#also i would make carver a grey warden instead of templar | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nightowlwriting · 3 months ago

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summary: “Alright,” Anders says. There’s noise like he’s adjusting the way he’s standing, or maybe pushing himself up to sit on Perrin’s desk, and then a few heartbeats of silence. “Would it make you feel better if I told you that I want you to hurt me?”

word count: 4.2k

warnings: ss&c, implied/referenced drug addiction, grief, unhealthy coping mechanisms, sex as a coping mechanism, knife mentioned, dom/sub undertones, manhandling

note: perrin is a morally grey character!! he also doesn't know carver is still alive so the loss of his mother (paired with bethany being a grey warden) left him angrier and more prone to acts of violence. he and anders also have a barely healthy relationship with all of the shit between the both of them, but everything that happens in this fic (and future installments) is 100% consensual.

title credit: saintseneca

kinktober masterlist: here

perrin hawke: here

mobile masterlist - request - ao3

Perrin Hawke is alone in his sitting room when the knock on his door comes. It’s late, and he’s already dismissed Sandal and Bodahn to their quarters for rest. Even Lothering doesn’t raise his head, instead huffing and rolling to bask his other side in front of the fire.

“Sure,” Perrin says sarcastically to the hound, “I’ll get the door.” He’s just on the right side of drunk - the room isn’t spinning, nor is his stomach, but that’s not going to be the truth for long. The door is just a temporary distraction from the shit-show that his life has been since the Blight forced his family from their home. It doesn’t matter that Amell House is the family seat he rightfully owns, it’s not home. So he stumbles to the door, footsteps echoing in his silent and empty front room, and tries to right his finery before he opens the door.

Knight-Captain Cullen Rutherford is standing on the other side and for a brief moment Perrin is disappointed. He thought it would have been… Well, the news had to have spread through Hightown to Darktown, and he thought… Actually, Perrin isn’t too sure he wants to see any of his normal companions at the door, especially not any of his mage companions. Regardless, the Knight-Captain isn’t wearing his usual armor and has a bottle of brandy in one hand, looking contrite (for something that he did not do, Perrin notices), and then shrugs. “I heard the news. Figured that you would empty out the wine cellar before you’d be caught in the Hanged Man tonight.”

Perrin doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t really have to. He just looks down on the Knight-Captain and then runs a hand down his face. “Thanks, Cullen,” He eventually says, instead of all the things he wants to say, “But I’m not very good company right now.” And he punctuates the silent and I don’t want anyone to accompany me with a wry smile.

Cullen stutters - because that’s what Cullen does when he’s nervous and Perrin makes him nervous. Everyone knows that his father was an apostate and that his parents sired two mighty warriors who fought at Ostagar and one apostate mage that, until three or so years prior, roamed Kirkwall freely because of the threat that Perrin is. He’s six and a half feet tall and as broad as a barn, which had come in handy doing small labor jobs and mercenary work in Lothering. Saved his life, and Carver’s, at Ostagar. “No, yes,” Cullen says, “I - I understand. I only meant to, well, I only meant to drop this off and leave.” He passes the brandy over and it’s a good brand. He’s almost surprised, but then in a second he takes in Cullen’s appearance: thinner than the week prior (but that might just be that he’s without armor), deep bags underneath his tired eyes, and a light haze over his eyes. Perrin is smart enough to know when a man’s lyrium dose has been upped, again, and knows that Knight-Commander Meredith also pairs that with a pay increase to keep the Templars from straying too far from her orders.

He takes the brandy from Cullen, but it feels wrong. Everything feels wrong, really, so that isn’t a surprise. “Thanks, Cullen,” Perrin finally says, trying for a smile. “You’re right, this might be better than wasting all the fancy wine that’s been aging for years. And I won’t be caught at the Hanged Man. Surely you’d see me on the stocks in the morning if I went.” He laughs to tell Cullen that it’s a joke and Cullen chuckles too, rubbing the back of his neck. There are a few moments of awkward silence, with Cullen shuffling and unable to be still and Perrin standing at his door like a statue.

Once upon a time, he’d thought about pursuing Cullen. The man is handsome, wise beyond his years, and honorable. Perrin hadn’t pursued him because of those last two facts - he couldn’t stand the thought of sullying someone like Cullen Rutherford. Still, they’ve formed a strong friendship just by being two Ferelden men in another country, chased from their homes because of the Blight.

“Well, I should be returning to my chambers,” Cullen nods decisively. He shakes Perrin’s hand and smiles when Perrin claps him on the back.

“Don’t let Meredith take too much from you,” Perrin warns just before Cullen leaves, “She’ll steal your life with that leash if you’re not careful.” He doesn’t stay at the door to see Cullen’s face, instead pressing the heavy wood closed and setting the brandy on one of his console tables as he passes. He’s very careful to act normally as he passes the hearth where a fire had been minutes before and doesn’t look for where Lothering is as he climbs the stairs to his room. The windows leading to his room have all had their curtains drawn and now his bedroom door is slightly open.

Perrin slips an ornate dagger out of a sheath that’s strapped to his thigh. He’s never unarmed, and neither are the other highborns or those who ascended to Hightown. Most Kirkwallers take a note from the Orlesian playbook and never leave themselves truly vulnerable. It’s more for status and image than anything practical, but Perrin isn’t like most people who live in Hightown. He’s more equipped to exist in Darktown, where brawn and brains get you further than money. That’s why when the person hiding behind his bedroom door lunges for him, it’s only a few seconds before he’s wrestled them against the wall, dagger tip pressed dangerously between their ribs, not breaking fabric or skin.

Yet.

Perrin’s chest is bellowing, his teeth bared like a rabid animal’s. He’s almost growling, looking for a fight just to get some of the errant emotions swirling in his chest. It almost doesn’t register that he’s pinning Anders - nearly half a foot shorter than him and much thinner, too - to the wall. The mage doesn’t even flinch but yields to Perrin’s tight hold and the press of the larger man’s body. He smiles softly and says, “Sorry, love, I just wanted to surprise you.” Perrin jerks away, dropping the knife and separating himself.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be here,” He finally says, bristling when he turns his back on Anders. It’s not Anders that he has a problem with right now, but magic in general. The wound in his chest, however metaphorical, is still raw and aching. He can taste the magic in the air between them, just like he’d been able to hear the humming of lyrium when Cullen was at his door. Perrin chalks it up to being mage-blooded, especially with how powerful of a mage his father was. Still, the air ripples as Anders walks closer, and Perrin bodily flinches away.

“You shouldn’t be alone,” Anders says, still, knowing that maybe touching Perrin isn’t the best idea right now.

“I shouldn’t be near mages right now,” Perrin bites, striding to his desk if only to put some distance between the cloying taste of magic against his soft palate. He would say more but he risks ruining the burgeoning relationship that they have. He’s already going to have to apologize to Merrill for how he’d turned on her when she’d tried to offer him comfort.

Is it worth it now? Is your precious blood magic worth it? This is what you are. This is who you are. You’re just like him.

It’s unfair, but Merrill knows and has known how Perrin feels about blood magic. He doesn’t mind magic, or mages in general, but blood magic is an entirely different animal. He can’t stand the way it tastes in the air, or how it’s never enough. When he sees the scars on Merrill’s palms or arms, he flinches visibly. After the first time, before the Deep Roads, he’d cried to Bethany and begged her to promise him that she’d never turn to blood magic. She’d sworn on Carver’s grave that she’d never resort to that.

Anders doesn’t say anything because he knows that Perrin is right, but the mage has also never been good at following orders or listening to reason. He’d escaped Kinlock Hold time and time again because of that. He’d been so desperate to get to Kirkwall to find Karl, and instead found Perrin. The hand on his lower back almost physically hurts just as much as the loss of his mother. “I won’t use magic,” Anders says, voice low as he moves around to be in front of Perrin, “I won’t do anything you don’t want.”

And suddenly, Perrin is blindingly angry. Just like the day prior, when he’d lit his mother’s pyre, he can feel the anger burning past white-hot into something more dangerous. His lips curl in a snarl and he shoves Anders back, the blond man catching himself on the ornate desk. He looks shocked, Perrin thinks, and I like it. “And what about what I do want?” He presses close to Anders, jerking him lightly by the front of his robes, “What will you do, then, Anders?” He snarls his lover’s name to make it hurt, but there’s no reaction besides a small smile. Perrin shakes him again just to do something.

“Anything you do want,” Anders supplies, “I trust that if I use the watch-word you’ll stop.” Perrin pushes away, turning his back again, and moves to stand in front of the fireplace.

“And you think that will fix me?” He scoffs, “You think that if I fuck you that I won’t be like this anymore?”

“No,” Anders says without moving from the desk, “I think if you fuck me the way you want to - the way you’re afraid to - that it will give you something to take your frustration out on.” His voice is soft, like Perrin will break with any more force behind the words.

Perrin’s not sure he wouldn’t break, honestly. The anger inside of him darkens and turns into something else - lust that swirls like smoke in his ribcage and leaves him grinding his teeth. “No,” He finally says, “You may trust me, but I shouldn’t be doing anything like that right now.”

“Alright,” Anders says. There’s noise like he’s adjusting the way he’s standing, or maybe pushing himself up to sit on Perrin’s desk, and then a few heartbeats of silence. “Would it make you feel better if I told you that I want you to hurt me?”

Perrin turns around, slowly. His heart is thundering and the fire in his veins is starting to feel good instead of world-ending. His lover is sitting on his desk, all sharp angles and loose hair. It hands around his face and shoulders like a perverted halo as he smiles at Perrin, leaning back on his hands like an invitation. “Why would you want to be hurt?” Perrin asks, unable to help the way his voice drops or his trousers tighten. Anders has always been so good at reading him - he’d be afraid the man was reading his mind if he didn’t know any better. “Who wants that?”

“I do,” Anders answers, instead of rising to the obvious bait, “And I think you want to hurt me.” He adjusts again and begins to peel himself out of the linen shirt he’d worn to Perrin’s home. He doesn’t pressure Perrin to answer or to do anything, simply slowly strips down as he sits on the other’s desk. Perrin stands back to the fire watching as each inch of skin is revealed: scars, freckles, tan lines. He can practically taste his lover’s skin underneath his tongue, feel the resistance of it underneath his teeth.

He’s always hungered for dark things. Not in the way of forcing his partner to do things that they don’t want, but forcing them to do the things they do want. Perrin wants his partner to push back, to be a brat, to force him to use his strength on them. He wants to mark them as his, fuck them so thoroughly that anyone with half a brain will be able to see them and know that they belong to Perrin Hawke.

He wants to own them: body, mind, soul - if only for the hours that they’re in his bed. But how can he say that? How can he tell Anders these things when he’d spent every year of his life past twelve years old subjugated, owned, trapped? How can Perrin admit that he wants to fuck him until he’s crying, until he can’t speak, until he only begs?

And yet: here is Anders completely naked on his desk, cock hard, asking Perrin to do those things to him. To hurt him.

Perrin licks his teeth and drops one hand to his own cock, holding pressure there so that he can try and think. He screws his eyes shut and ignores the part of him that wants to do nothing but take and destroy and struggles to find the part of him that had stepped up and taken on the role of man of the house when his father died. “I shouldn’t.”

“Says who?” Anders snaps, “The Chantry? Fuck the Chantry. I want you to hurt me, Perrin, I want to ache.” He groans and Perrin’s eyes fly open to find him stroking his cock, sat there on Perrin’s desk like he owns it. “I want to feel you burn,” He gasps, pressing on his frenulum and then stroking again, and shudders, “I want be a mess, to be so fucked-out I can’t think about anything. I want you to use me.”

Perrin can feel himself just standing about, mouth open and hand pressed flat on his cock. He knows he should do something - say no, say yes, leap across the room and take Anders every way that he knows how to and some that he doesn’t yet know how to. Instead, he just shudders, squeezing his groin, and groans. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

“We already have-” Anders takes a second to writhe, circling his thumb and pointer-finger around the base of his dick to squeeze, “-We already have a watch-word. We’re already two men. How much worse can we get?” He grins, hand not otherwise occupied flexing on his thigh before pressing flat against his abdomen. Perrin watches it move up, up, up until Anders is pinching his nipple so hard it looks painful.

“I won’t be nice,” Perrin finally says, nearly choking on his lust. Anders grins, knowing he’s made his case as he watches Perrin frantically remove his shirt and shoes. He divests himself of his trousers as he crosses the room and doesn’t even go for his dick, despite the fire-warmed air making it twitch. He stops himself just short of Anders, chest heaving and feeling like he’s lost his mind, “I won’t ask for what I want,” He explains, voice rough as he tries to reel himself in. It makes Anders shiver, “I won’t stop if you say no, I won’t stop if you beg, I won’t stop if you fight. I will only stop if you say the watch-word.”

“Yes,” Anders moans, abandoning his futile attempt to not tug himself off before Perrin got his hands on him, “All of that.”

“I will be mean,” Perrin grits his teeth, watching the mesmerizing way Anders’ hand moves on his cock, the way that the head of his dick begins to redden and his thighs begin to shake. “I will do what I want when I want it. I don’t care if you don’t come or if you come too much.” His lover just nods, mouth falling open as he huffs out breaths of pleasure. Perrin watches for a few moments more before he can’t take it anymore. That dark, smoke-like lust in his chest overtakes him and he gives in to it. Anders doesn’t flinch when Perrin lunges at him, only shouts another yes! as he’s manhandled.

Perrin grabs him by the shoulders and twists, tossing Anders off of the desk. He doesn’t care if Anders lands on his feet or arse, just that Perrin towers over him when he’s not sitting on the desk. He grabs Anders by the hair and forces him toward the fire - not a mindless monster by any standards, but he holds the hair in a tight fist. Enough to hurt, but not to harm. When they get close enough and Anders realizes that Perrin isn’t going to stop before his face hits the brick, he catches himself on his hands. It brings a predatory grin to Perrin’s face, who leans in close to his ear. “Good boy,” He growls, “You learn quick.”

“I-I,” Anders manages, gasping when Perrin kicks his feet apart. Perrin mocks his stuttering gasp and grips Anders’s hip. He can’t resist the siren call of the broad expanse of naked skin holding the man by the head and hip affords him, so he leans down and sinks teeth in, drawing a howl from the trapped man. “Yes!”

Perrin jerks him back by the hair and then spins him around. Anders has tears in his eyes and a flush running from the bridge of his nose to the hardness of his cock. He grips at Perrin’s arm to hold himself up and look pathetic. It makes Perrin moan. “Look at you,” He rumbles, leaning down to press their noses together, “Look at how much I’ve already ruined you. I’ve barely touched you.”

“Please,” Anders gasps, trying to lean up to kiss Perrin. He can’t move past the hand holding him still. “Please!”

“Kneel.” Perrin says instead, dropping Anders’ hair and taking a step back. Anders barely catches himself, legs wobbly, and Perrin grins something sharp and feral again. He reaches down to stroke himself slowly, feeling pent up. Anders just stares and watches as Perrin preens and allows it for a moment. And then he snaps his fingers, “I said kneel.” He snarls, baring his teeth as anger chases lust through his veins. It feels good, feels better when Anders tilts his chin up and sneers.

“Make me.” His eyes flash for just a moment and Perrin isn’t sure who’s talking: Anders, Justice, or the fucked-up amalgam of them both that he’s taken to calling Vengeance. He cocks his head, waiting for the light to die down, and then Anders speaks again. “I said: make me.” It’s only then, in that moment where Perrin is sure it’s his lover speaking and not the spirit inside of his lover, that he moves.

“Incorrigible bastard,” Perrin gripes, manhandling Anders back several steps only to throw him off balance. He sweeps a leg behind the other man’s and presses against the back of his knees, all the while pressing down on his shoulders. Anders falls to his knees with a shout and a loud impact, but Perrin doesn’t stop moving. He can’t think past the throbbing of his cock, the memory of muscle and skin beneath his teeth. The sight of Anders on his knees, bite mark bruising on his shoulder, and an agog look on his face nearly makes Perrin spill right then. Instead, he almost gently rubs his thumb over Anders’ bottom lip before his face twists in a grin. Perrin shifts his hand so that his first two fingers are lying where his thumb just was and then he presses.

Perrin laughs almost antagonistically when Anders gags against fingers that are so much longer than his own, tears welling in his amber eyes almost immediately. He doesn’t pull away, or vomit, but closes his lips around Perrin’s fingers and sucks.

It becomes clear to both of them very quickly what move Perrin will make next. He almost doesn’t know he’s moving until his fingers are free from Anders’ mouth and his spit-soaked hand is in the mage’s hair again. “Open your fucking mouth,” He snaps, almost too impatient to do any of the things he wants to do. “I’m going to come down your throat, and you’re going to thank me, and then I’m going to fuck you until you beg me to stop.”

The only thing Anders says, just before his mouth is full of cock, is: “Please, yes, please!”

He’s not a monster, so the first push of Perrin’s dick is slow and steady. He holds Anders by the hair, the other hand steadying his length as he gasps - gasps and watches. It’s almost like a miracle the way that Anders looks on his knees, the way that he squirms and his eyes roll back in his head like he’s feeling the white-hot knife of pleasure that curls around Perrin’s spine. The first few push-pulls are just like that: slow, elaborate, all-consuming. “Maker guide me,” He groans, trying not to fist too hard in the mage’s hair and failing, “Andraste’s Sword of Mercy strike me.”

Perrin loses himself after that. Both hands grip the sides of his lover’s head as he moves faster and harder; he hisses when Anders grips at his thighs, nails leaving crescent marks and red lines. The pleasure burns, chasing away all of the dark thoughts and bad feelings, if only temporarily. He’s gasping for air, unable to decide if he wants to tip his head back and keep his eyes closed as he chases his end or watch as Anders chokes on his cock.

Anders groans, and gags, but doesn’t complain. He doesn’t pull away or pinch Perrin’s thigh - their watch-word for when they have their mouths full. Instead, when Perrin goes back to watching with his mouth open, chin against his chest and ragged groans filling the room, Anders relaxes his throat even more. He catches Perrin’s eyes and - oh, the bastard - he hums.

“Mine,” It slips out unbidden, chased by the roiling pleasure and power that he feels with Anders on his knees, “You’re mine, I don’t care who’s in your head,” He bares his teeth when, for just a moment, Anders holds himself all of the way down, gagging on Perrin’s cock. “Fuck, yes, just like that baby.” Perrin jerks Anders back by the hair, ignoring the way that the mage groans when his mouth loses contact. He holds, for just a moment, and then brings one hand up like he’s going to strike Anders.

“Say the word now,” Perrin warns, “If you don’t want me to slap you.”

“Maker,” Anders gasps, voice ragged through his gasping. He’s still gripping Perrin’s thighs, his own splayed wide as he thrusts at nothing but searches for everything, “Yes, I want it. Hit me, Perrin, please.”

He rears back even more and slaps Anders. The crack of his hand is almost deafening and he sees, for a brief moment, Justice flash to the surface. Anders either wrestles him down or he realizes what’s happening when he sees Perrin standing above him completely naked. Anders gasps when he comes back to himself and his body shudders. Instead of putting his cock back into his lover’s mouth, Perrin takes himself in hand. “No,” Anders whines, “I want - please, I want to swallow you.”

Perrin’s teeth flash in the light when he forces Anders to swallow him down again, focusing less on hurting like Anders had wanted and more on coming like he needs to. It doesn't take long with his cock in the tight, wet, heat of the other man's mouth. Typically Anders has control, chooses the pace, brings Perrin to peak in the way the he wants. Tonight he just lets Perrin chase that high, choking on the dick in his throat.

Only a few moments after the slap - that has left the man's face reddening - Perrin’s hips begin to stutter. He knows he's saying filthy things (I own you, I want you to taste me for weeks, I want to live inside of your body) but he doesn't care. He only cares about the fire in his veins, the way his body is tensing, the right feeling deep in his stomach. He only cares that Anders isn't even reaching for his ass, or his sac, or any of the places that he usually grabs and kneads to help Perrin along. The most Anders can do is keep his grip where it's at and take it.

It's that thought that finally makes Perrin come. Anders is taking it, every dark part of his desires, because he wants to. Perrin isn't forcing him, isn't making him, isn't hurting him in a way that he doesn't like. Anders is willingly taking the rough edges of Perrin, the way that the larger man can use his strength and size to be indomitable - in the bedroom or otherwise. The heat races through his body and he feels himself still with Anders’ nose pressed against him, groaning and writhing as he comes. He feels like he's been struck in the gut, knees weak when he pulls away but then Anders is swallowing - swallowing and smiling up at Perrin like he's gotten exactly what he wanted in the first place. He leans forward and bites Perrin in the thigh, hissing when he gets tugged back by his hair.

“I believe,” Anders says, voice hoarse, “That you promise me more.”

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salemcantupdate · 5 months ago

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hi returning the favor of sending me an ask for the dragon age oc ask game ^-^

for your warden: 13 16

for your hawke: 17 6

for your inqy: 4 10

Ok so I tried answering this once and everything got deleted, time to try again. Anyways, I’ve already answered 13, 6, and 4, but I’ll add them and try to add bonus info for the specific character requested! Now then let’s get to it.

13. What are Warden’ thoughts on the Grey Warden Order?

Surana at first likes the wardens a fare amount, but things get harder as he becomes more official and learns of other sects. The fact that it is traditional for each group of wardens to only have 1 mage? The fact that many of the warden higher ups were angered by his decision to spare the Architect? What he learns during that time? And now he seeks a cure. It's complicated, but at the end of the day they are his people, and he is a warden before he is a mage, a warden before he is an elf. [Additional Information:] He loves the Wardens, but in many ways they disappoint him. The fact that Wardens who receive their callings are so quickly sent away, the fact that if a Warden is injured they’re sent on their Calling early, the lack of research, how blood magic is so finicky, that mages are rarely remembered in the history books for their importance in each Blight, the fact that they don’t put more Ghouls through the Joining. He is upset that the Grey Wardens can’t openly stand with mages. But really he just feels that he is pulled in so many different directions. The elves, the mages, the Crown, and the Wardens. He is tired.

16. Does my Warden get sentimental about armor/weapons?

Yeah! Kind of, but he’s more attached to jewelry that he has received. The Ring of Study from the Circle, the Warden’s Oath pendant, the necklace ‘Reflection’ from “Jowan” in the Urn of Sacred Ashes quest, the earring Zevran gifts him, and the ring that Morrigan gifts him in Witch Hunt. But he did also grow a fondness for Wade’s armor and his specific craftsmanship, especially since he wore that same armor since he got it through all of the DLC’s.

6. What is my Hawke’s attitude towards the Qun?

Hawke considers them inhuman monsters, rather racist about it all tbh, but he hates them. [Additional Information:] He had a strong distaste from the beginning of the game, back in Lothering. All due to the Qunari that killed Bethany’s friend and her family (yes, Sten). His opinion worsened as he spent more time with Anders, who obviously hated how they treated mages. But, during Act 1 and early Act 2, Hawke knew better than to actively anger the Qunari and actually grew a begrudging respect with the Arishok. This went down the drain with the attack on the city. Either way Hawke does the duel with pleasure, after all I got Red Hawke who lives up to his Killer nickname.

17: What was my Hawke like as a child?

He was a very quiet kid, especially since he was basically raised to be constantly scared of the possibility of gaining magic or his father getting caught somehow. When he didn’t gain magic and Beth and Carver was born, he was instead taught and damn near trained to watch the twins like a hawk (haha) for any signs of magic to ensure that he could get them to safety if things went wrong. Essentially, he was being trained to act as a Templar for the family since he was little. He was forced to be an adult from a very young age and essentially parent-ified, more often than not the twins would go to him to settle disputes between them rather than going to Leandra or Malcolm. Another thing, Hawke actually trained Carver how to fight!

4. What is my Inqy’s view on Andrastianism?

Cadash goes through an arc. At first they're overall pretty neutral, it's just the human religion, but as they become the Herald they start to believe it, kind of. But yeah they end up having a way more complicated relationship, which makes sense! They are the Herald after all. [Additional Information:] Cadash actually did consider Andrastianism early on in their career in the Carta, they were feeling guilty as shit and they found some comfort in a Chantry Sister. This didn’t really work out though so they’ve long since shrugged that off by the point of Inquisition, but when they’re suddenly made the head of a Chantry organization is does lead to a bit of an internal crisis. Especially since the Chantry teaches that the Maker didn’t create the dwarves. Why would they be His chosen? They never fully convert I don’t think, and they aren’t really sure if He exists, and even if they aren’t really the Herald they feel a strong kinship with Andrade. But they do end up just accepting the comfort that faith sometimes provides.

10. Is my Inqy good at horse riding?

HA, no, they’re a dwarf. Too short and too heavy at the same time. Plus they’re lowkey scared of horses, freaky buggers. They do however end up getting and riding a nugalope, which they much prefer, they’re just more comfortable for their dwarfy self. They’re still not great at it though.

#salemcantupdate writes #salemcantupdate talks #answering asks #dragon age #dragon age origins #dragon age 2 #dragon age inquisition #dragon age veilguarx #dao #da2 #dai #datv #surana #Stellan Surana #Hawke #Cadash

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bleeding-star-heart · 1 year ago

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Alternate Ending to DA II where female! mage! Hawke just SNAPS

Up until this moment, Hawke has been a meek, obedient little mage. Borderline spineless, categorically unable to stand up for herself.

Can't bring herself to disagree with her friends or ask her family (*cough cough* CARVER) to treat her with respect. Never mind actual authority figures.

The introduction of Isabela and Anders into her life makes this SLIGHTLY better, but not much. The most she accomplishes is talking about mage rights in front of those two specifically. In front people like Fenris not so much.

Always doing WHATEVER her friends/the authorities/the randos of Kirkwall ask of her. Runs herself ragged doing so.

But then Act 3 rolls around. Leandra is dead, Carver is dead/a Grey Warden (because no spinal cord, she can't say no to Carver). Hawke has virtually no family left. No shits to give.

At the same time however, she is also immensely wealthy and beloved by all of Kirkwall at the exact same time Meredith really goes off the deep end.

Potentially everything to gain, almost nothing left to lose.

So, Hawke throws a grand ball at the Amell estate, to which every important person in Kirkwall is invited. The nobles, the templar high command, the Dwarven Merchants' Guild, you name it. Even First Enchanter Orsino, Meredith, and Elthina are present.

Those last two names are very important, because guess what? Suddenly Meredith Stannard ends up choking to death in front of everyone present.

Elthina shrieks, points at Hawke, and screams "Murderer!"

But, instead of being horrified, Hawke just slow claps and says: "What a splendid actress you are, Grand Cleric. You would have made a killing on the stage."

Almost everyone is shocked-especially Anders, Merrill, and Fenris. This is completely out of character for her.

Hawke then reveals that it was, in fact, Elthina who killed Meredith-all Hawke did was provide a window of opportunity. "Isn't that right, Sebastian?"

Sebastian, horrified, cries "I thought you were going to stop her! I never would have told you if I knew you were to just...let the Knight-Commander die!"

That's right-Sebastian found out about Elthina's plot, and, in a panic, told Hawke. But Hawke happened to agree with the Grand Cleric-Meredith needed to go.

The doors then burst open, and in walks Leliana, accompanied by Aveline, and several city guards and Seekers. "Grand Cleric Elthina, you are under arrest."

That's right-Hawke showed the evidence to Aveline, who in turn told Leliana and the Seekers, and both were lying in wait to arrest Elthina. "Although you conveniently failed to mention the part about Meredith actually dying," Aveline grumbles.

Elthina is taken away, and in one fell swoop, Hawke has eliminated both the Grand Cleric and the Knight-Commander. There is no one who can stand in her way. "Isabela? Did you get it?"

Isabela then shows up, holding none other than the Viscount's crown. "Yep," she says as she hands it to Hawke.

Hawke grins widely, turns to the crowd, and asks: "People of Kirkwall! Will you have me for Viscount?"

A chorus of "yes" erupts from the stunned crowd, all of whom then get down on their knees.

"The queen is dead," Hawke declares as she places the viscount's crown on her head. "Long live the queen."

#fanfic prompt #dragon age 2 #fanfiction #dragon age #marian hawke #villain origin story #elthina bashing

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allmywardensaresafeandsound · 4 months ago

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so, UPDATE!

I got it. ✊😌

Her name is Andrea Amell!! Planning for her to be the pretty much standard Origins Amell and through her voyage to the Temple of Sacred Ashes developing a mystical connection (true or imagined only history will tell adsshghsd) with Andraste's "Spirit". (I headcanon her bonding without her direct knowledge to a spirit of Faith, probably)

Once she defeats the Archdemon (well, Loghain does, but we know how that goes down in history), she becomes really obsessed with Tevinter history and how it links to Andraste, magic and its role in society and the Blight! Really goes the faithful historian route (and sort of the religious conspiracy theorists as well adfgshgd) to wanting to learn of the origins of the Blight. So she quickly abandons her Warden Commander post (to my Orlesian Warden Beauchêne) and goes towards the North to look for more texts and make her own researches.

She finds herself in Kirkwall in the following years, studying the Tevinter history left there more or less under the Circle's tutelage but with the liberties coming from being the Hero of the Fifth Blight. She meets the Hawke crew (before Hawke gets in trouble ans i made tranquil) and gets into a semi pious semi overtly passionate relationship with Sebastian. After the disaster retaining the Hawke siblings (one tranquil and Carver templar) the crew is held more or less together by Varric and a ex-templar oc of mine (Ariel Bourgeois) who try to survive, fund Ariel's lyrium addiction, keep good relationships with the Chantry and the Circle so to keep their friends held there safe, and keep the rest of the crew afloat with the usual little jobs and personal quests. Amell will join them at time, keeping a very pro-Chantry approach though being very interested in things relating to Tevinter history. (her relationship with Fenris varying from tenuous to amusing). She leaves sometimes before the critical events of Act 3, because its being harder and harder for her to keep her freedom and liberties despite her status and clear allegiance to the Chantry, so she rather leaves to go furthernorth to continue her studies and researches closer to the core of all. Sebastian promises to become Prince to be better worthy of the Hero and Andraste's Chosen.

Blabla, Ariel allies with the Templar because she doesn't know what else to do, and by the end manages to smuggle tranquil!Hawke and Carver out of the city with her title of Viscountess, and then probably gets infected with red lyrium 👀.

And Amell!! Crosses the road of Coryphaeus!!!

I'm thinking of making her one of his minion in DAI, à la Samson/Calpernia, tho I don't really know if she should be leading the Templars or the Mages mhhh she has no strong ties to the Venatori/Tevinti, aside from their shared belief of Andraste being a mage, and she would be more likely to support the Templars, since she is very pious, but would they accept being led by a mage?

tho she could lead a third faction?? like, in my canon there's a way to recruit/contact at least a fraction of both sides, templar and mages, and she could represent, like, the anti-Inquisition Chantry? like if you managed to ally both factions, the only power Corypheus managed to bring to his side (aside from Grey Wardens ofc) would be the followers of the "True Herald of Andraste" Andrea Amell. idk, otherwise I think she could lead the templars instead of Samson, she has the reputation and respect for it I think. also her spirit was corrupted to a demon of Conquest.

And yeah! Carver and tranquil!Hawke are Varric's contacts and as they stumble into the fade the "Spirit" of Justinia heals Hawke 😌 so my best girl is back.

ANYWAY LOVING THIS WORLDSTATE A LOT MHNMN

(and in the multiverse, where my Conte would be the "canon" Amell, I think Andrea would be stationed at the Starkhaven Circle instead, but occasionally being let out à la Malcom, and would have met Sebastian before his "conversion" and possibly their passionate lovemaking would have gotten her pregnant. To keep the rumors to a minimum his family would have gotten her out of the Circle and hid her amongst their servants, to raise the babe in relative secrecy and safety. But then the family gets massacred!! and possibly Andrea survives her child, and is driven to a demon of despair because of it? I don't know what this could lead to, lots of possibilities!)

need help!! 👀

I have an oc I absolutely want to fit somewhere but I can't quite figure out where 😭 so help/advise/ideas needed!

she's an Amell, not necessarily *the* Amell (preferably *not* the Amell, but I can work around that), one of them magic children, and I wanted a full cursed Jean d'Arc aesthetic. She's a fire mage, but so devoted, raised in a Circle and almost dangerously loyal to Andraste, to her iconography, her symbolism, her martyrdom, etc. certainly traumatized by at least some extent by Circle life and clearly took refuge in faith to find some answers and escape. Probably even found out Tevinter believes Andrade was a mage and totally adopted that belief for herself too. But yeah, would love for her to believe she's she second coming of Andraste and stuff.

Initially I was thinking of making her an Inquisitor? would be hard to have her move around after the Circles fell *but*..... I find the idea of her romancing Sebastian way too hot.............. and her "pushing" him to his rivalmance and to become a prince to me makes more sense than what I have written down for his romance in my current worldstate, so I would love to make it fit. BUT I don't really see how I could make her be in Kirkwall while not being enclosed in the Circle? I already have *the* Amell from my canon worldstate in Kirkwall (he was moved after the events of "Broken Circle" because they didn't really have the resources to handle "difficult mages" anymore after the drama and so they moved him to Kirkwall at the same time as Cullen in my canon, and my Hawke ends up breaking him out of the circle with Anders' help), and, yeah, two Amells in Kirkwall + the whole Amell/Hawke family there really doesn't seem much like a coincidence anymore and more like a crowd. :/

but yeah I like the oc concept a lot 🥺 wondering what this silly little cult-adjacent lady could be up to.

(ALSO, so interesting if she sniffed those Andraste Ashes 🥺🥺 really she deserves it all)

#oc : andrea #oc : ariel #oc : claire #worldstate : four #also this means i'm joining my aeducan and brosca runs into one!!#since the amell run replaces the aeducan one #which makes the dwarven worldstate ultra dwarven hehehe #which i love honestly

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potatowitch · 4 years ago

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Hawke as Companion

Template by @little-lightning-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? 👀)

I did originally plan on doing this for my Inquisitor but, as always, I've got Hawke brainrot instead, and I figured writing some companion interactions would be so much more interesting with her as a companion than my Lavellan. This got .... very long.

You have selected RIAN to join your party!

Race: HUMAN

Gender: FEMALE

Class: MAGE

Specialization: BLOOD MAGE

BACKGROUND

Marian Elaine Hawke, known also as “Rian”, “Chuckles”, “Champion of Kirkwall” and “Hawke, NO” was born in 9:06 Dragon to Malcolm and Leandra Hawke. Despite having to keep her father's magic a secret, she was never led to believe that magic was anything but a gift. Therefore, she spent much of her younger years experimenting to see if she could produce magic, eventually managing at age 9 to light the fireplace with a tiny fireball.

Growing up, she was attached to Malcolm at the hip - the two of them shared not only their magic but their senses of humor and general chaotic energy.

After the Hawke family fled Lothering during the Blight, Hawke joined Athenril’s smugglers to pay off her entry into Kirkwall. As soon as she met Varric at the start of Act 1, they became inseparable best friends - Hawke often cites Varric as her soulmate and the platonic love of her life. During the Deep Roads expedition, Carver became infected with the Blight, and with the help of Anders, Hawke was able to lead him to the Grey Wardens so he could join their ranks.

Over the years, she developed close relationships with most of her companions except for Aveline and Sebastian. Her friendship with Merrill eventually developed into a committed romance, and Hawke started to practice blood magic after recognising that Merrill could do so without being "evil". The two of them eventually also developed feelings for Isabela, and as such she joined their romance as well.

By Act 3, Hawke had become a staunch supporter of mage rights, a dedicated member of the Underground, and wholeheartedly supported Anders’ choice to destroy Kirkwall’s Chantry.

Following the destruction of the Chantry, Hawke and her friends fled Kirkwall, splitting up despite Hawke desperately wanting them to remain together. Isabela and Merrill chose to remain with Hawke, and the three of them traveled across the Free Marches, occasionally running into Anders and assisting him in rescuing mages from rebelling Circles. Eventually, Isabela managed to acquire a new crew, and her partners were more than happy to sail with her as she established herself once again as the Queen of the Eastern Seas.

INQUISITION

Depending on the player’s choices in Here Lies The Abyss, Hawke can be convinced to stay and help the Inquisition further instead of accompanying the remaining Wardens to Weisshaupt, becoming a full companion. She will move to sit with Varric by the fire in the main hall. Hawke will also be present in Varric’s companion cutscene where he invites the Inquisitor to play Wicked Grace.

Upon first being recruited to the Inquisition, Hawke’s specialisation is not available - when automatically leveled, she will put points primarily into the Inferno and Storm trees. Her unique specialisation, Blood Mage, only becomes available if the Inquisitor has allied with the mages at Redcliffe. At that point, Hawke will initiate a conversation with the Inquisitor about their opinions on blood magic, and if the Inquisitor states that they have no problem with it, her specialisation will open. Otherwise, she will refuse to admit her use of blood magic to the Inquisitor.

At this point, Hawke will also speak more openly about her support of Anders. She will eventually admit that they are still in contact, though she won't tell the Inquisitor anything that could give them an idea of Anders’ whereabouts.

Her specialisation is not open to the Inquisitor, however Hawke can offer to teach a mage Inquisitor "a neat trick", which will give the player the choice to replace their current Focus ability with Hawke's.

BLOOD MAGE

Upon unlocking Hawke's specialisation, she will gain a large increase to her Constitution but her mana bar will become considerably shorter, and conventional healing effects will only operate at 25% efficiency. If she is out of mana, she will automatically revert to using her health pool to power her spells instead.

Her spell tree is very similar to the Dragon Age 2 Blood Mage tree, however it does not include the Blood Slave ability - it is instead replaced with Blood Bomb, which is a variant of Walking Bomb. Instead of applying a damage over time curse to a target, Hawke channels a spell that corrupts the targets' blood from the inside until the target dies - at which point they explode, doing damage to nearby enemies. This spell continually consumes Hawke's mana and health while it is being channeled.

Her Focus ability is Major Sacrifice, a variant of the Knight-Enchanter's Resurgence. Instead of healing the party to full health and providing an ongoing healing aura, Major Sacrifice will instead heal the party to full health but take 25% of Hawke's current health, and will provide an aura of ongoing damage to nearby enemies, converting their health into health for the party.

VARRIC'S PERSONAL QUEST IN VALAMMAR

If the Inquisitor brings Hawke to Valammar, she will be suspiciously quiet throughout the quest - though she will pipe up to complain about the Darkspawn. Following the reveal that Bianca shared the location of the thaig, Hawke will be furious and will argue with her.

Upon returning to Skyhold and speaking to Varric, the cutscene will begin in the middle of a conversation between him and Hawke.

HAWKE: You deserve better, you know. VARRIC: Yeah, you've said that before. HAWKE: It bears repeating. As many times as it takes to get it through your thick head. You deserve so much better. VARRIC: *sigh* Thanks, Chuckles.

APPROVAL AND ROMANCE

Hawke is not romanceable, though she welcomes playful flirting from a female Inquisitor. She will eventually initiate a conversation where she makes sure the Inquisitor isn't expecting the flirting to go anywhere further, as she is already in a relationship.

RIAN APPROVES OF: Supporting mage freedom, open-mindedness with magic and spirits, sarcasm, humor, stealing from nobility, pranking nobility, loyalty to your friends, being nice to Varric, terrible puns.

RIAN DISAPPROVES OF: Chantry rhetoric, the Circles, Templars, Tranquility, authority, betraying your friends, ignorance, pomposity, being mean to Varric.

Hawke will not leave the Inquisition, even if her approval is at Hostile. When questioned about this, she will say:

HAWKE: Did you miss the part where Corypheus is my responsibility? I’m going to fix my fuck-up, Inquisitor. If I have to put up with you while I do it, then, well … I’ve always said the Maker has a sick sense of humor.

TRESPASSER

Following Corypheus' defeat, Hawke leaves the Inquisition to rejoin Merrill and Isabela.

Once Trespasser is started, Hawke can be found accompanying Varric and Bran to the Winter Palace.

During exploration of the Eluvians, if both Hawke and Varric are in the party, they will briefly discuss how excited Merrill would be by all this, and Hawke will say "You'd better be writing all this down, Varric."

She will approve of redeeming Solas, though she won't disapprove if the Inquisitor decides they would rather kill him.

High Approval

If Varric has chosen to give the Inquisitor an estate in Kirkwall, Hawke will pipe up during the conversation saying she's excited to be neighbors, offering to give the Inquisitor the key to her wine cellar - though she will complain that Varric has never given her control of the harbor, to which Bran will mutter "thank the Maker".

Regardless of the Inquisition's fate, Hawke will return to her lovers, occasionally keeping in touch with the Inquisitor via letters.

Low Approval

If the Inquisitor has low approval with Hawke, they will be informed that she left as soon as the Inquisitor stepped back out of the Eluvian following the final confrontation with Solas. The epilogue slides will state that her whereabouts are, once again, unknown.

COMBAT COMMENTS

Killing an enemy

And stay down!

One more for me. We’re keeping score, right?

Have at you!

How’s my hair looking? (COMBAT ENDS)

I wonder what’s in their pockets. (COMBAT ENDS)

Oh, ew. I’m not cleaning that up. (COMBAT ENDS)

Low Health

This is going badly!

Little help, maybe?

Why are none of you healers?

This hurts! This really hurts!

Low Health (Companions)

INQUISITOR: You good over there, boss?

VARRIC: Varric, that blood better not be yours!

COLE: Help the kid!

CASSANDRA: They’re swarming the Seeker!

BLACKWALL: Hang on, Beardy!

IRON BULL: Bull’s in trouble!

Fallen Companions

INQUISITOR: Shit! Trevelyan/Lavellan/Adaar/Cadash is down!

VARRIC: Don’t you dare leave me now, Varric!

COLE: Cole! No!

CASSANDRA: Seeker is down! How did they manage that?

SOLAS: Come on, Solas!

DORIAN: Help Dorian!

SERA: Awful quiet, isn’t it? Oh shit, Sera!

LOCATION COMMENTS

(first time seeing a High Dragon) *laughing* "Oh, this will be fun!" IF VARRIC IS IN THE PARTY: "Hawke, the last time you fought one of these you nearly died." "Yeah, but I didn't die. That's the important thing."

(approaching a campsite) "Well ... I've slept in worse places."

(when collecting a Shard) "Let me guess. We have to collect a stupid amount of these for a really stupid reason, and they're all going to be in really stupid, hard to reach places. *sighs* I love adventuring."

HINTERLANDS

"Have we been here before? Feels like we've been here before."

(upon unlocking the cabin in Redcliffe with the Tranquil skulls) "That's ... fucking Maker. Tranquil have always made me uncomfortable but ... they were still people. They were still... shit, I need a second."

FALLOW MIRE

"Eugh, that smell! Worse than my dog when he's eaten cheese, and that's saying something."

(upon killing Widris) "Something, something, crazy mages ... "

"Oh, walking corpses. That's nice."

STORM COAST

(upon seeing the dragon vs giant fight) *laughing* "Oh, that's brilliant!"

"Not to sound like Varric, but why are there so many bloody hills around here? My legs hurt."

EXALTED PLAINS

"Maker, I hate Orlais."

(finding Valorin's corpse) *sighs* "Might sound a little hypocritical coming from me, but ... blood magic is not for the careless."

(seeing the ruined bridge, if Varric is in the party) "Hey Varric - " "Don't you dare, Hawke." "C'mon, please?" "You are not tossing me!" "Spoilsport."

EMERALD GRAVES

"I've always thought it was beautiful how the Dalish bury their dead under a tree sprout. Like ... I don't know, maybe death doesn't have to be the end."

HISSING WASTES

"There's sand in ... places. So many places."

"Have I said I hate sand? Because I hate sand."

EMPRISE DU LION

(seeing Red Lyrium) "Maybe don't touch that. It'll do all kinds of weird shit to you."

"I'm fucking freezing. When can we go home?"

(seeing Red Lyrium giants) "What the fuck?"

(Elfsblood River rift - near the lady with titsicles) *giggles*

SHRINE OF DUMAT

"I'm getting the weirdest sense of deja vu." IF VARRIC IS IN THE PARTY: "You're not the only one."

DEEP ROADS (THE DESCENT)

"Why do I always end up back in the Deep Roads? Am I cursed?"

COMPANION COMMENTS

VARRIC: "I was worried about what would happen if I brought her here, but ... it's nice to have Hawke around again."

CASSANDRA: "I have to admit, I do admire the Champion. A woman who built herself up from nothing to defeat the Arishok ... there's a certain romance to Varric's stories about her."

SOLAS: "I've been informed that Varric also calls Hawke "Chuckles". I ... don't see how we are similar."

DORIAN: "Hawke? Oh, I like her. She's not as daft as she acts."

BLACKWALL: "The other night, I found her getting teary-eyed in the tavern over how much she misses her dog. Don't quite know what to make of that, really."

VIVIENNE: "She is a powerful mage, I'll give her that, but she's also a naive fool. No wonder Kirkwall fell to pieces around her."

IRON BULL: "She's fun. Got a lot going on in that head she doesn't talk about, though."

COLE: "Fleeing, fighting, falling. Failed father, failed mother, failed Beth and Carver too. Fire and freedom, and she knows it's right but it still feels wrong. Old wounds that never healed, sometimes she can still taste the blood in her mouth. You chose to save her. She wishes you chose differently."

SERA: "Thought she'd be scary, but she makes me laugh. Hasn't let owning a mansion get to her head, either, and have you seen those arms? She's strong."

CULLEN: "I'd ... rather not talk about her, if you don't mind. We've a less than friendly history."

JOSEPHINE: "Lady Hawke is charming, certainly, but I cannot imagine her being popular amongst her neighbours in Hightown. She throws the very concept of decorum bodily out of the window."

LELIANA: "I knew her when she lived in Lothering. She didn't seem to like the Chantry much, but she was always sweet, and her jokes made me laugh. It's a little odd to see the woman she's grown into."

TRIVIA

Malcolm also made sure he trained Hawke in using a sword. She's not very good at it, preferring instead to use her staff as a melee weapon if an enemy gets too close.

She has a mean right hook.

Her and Varric have matching tattoos on their left buttcheeks.

Despite being Ferelden and adoring her own mabari, Hawke has a preference for cats.

She's awful at singing. She sings a lot anyway.

#oc as companion #who goes to weisshaupt instead of hawke? i don't know and i don't care #rian

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common-blackbird · 4 years ago

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it’s time... for a dragon age 2 playthrough post. scroll on!

The things i loved most:

1) the frame of the game - Cassandra interrogating Varric.

What a great way to get hook the player. Like, the opening of guards dragging this poor dwarf with cuts of the title, and then Cassandra demanding answers... Whoaaa! I have no idea if that’s usually done in games or not, but it’s definitely such an amazing intro with characters introducing themselves as well as the story so perfectly, it captivates instantly. The tutorial has a charm to it bc varric is messing around. Which serves to show more of his character. Cassandra’s personality was pretty much blank here but her presence is so powerful. Something happened, something huge and they know and i was about to find out. I can’t describe how excited that intro made me feel. Each time the scene cut to the interrogation scenes, my eyes were glued more than ever. Just GREAT.

Also it makes for a very convenient scapegoat for every plothole ever with the argument “it’s just his version of the story”.

2) The story.

It’s tragic. It’s amazing! The further you play, the more you can see that no matter what you do, everything leads to a disaster. Hawke doesn’t want to take sides, tries to mediate, does not want to get involved, but just can’t stop it. For every thing gained, Hawke loses two more. Your friends come with packages that get you involved in terrible stuff. Your good intentions result in disasters. The whole game you spent time climbing the social ladder not only to reach the top hauntingly alone after losing all of your family, but also losing even that empty title and watching as the city you started to find your place in fall apart in blood. UGH! GAH! FEELS!

3) Kirkwall.

“ But, I beg you my dear readers, never forget that, no matter the subject of any story that might ever be explored between the cliffs of Kirkwall, She will find a way to steal the thunder of the protagonist. Or become the antagonist. Kirkwall is never a mere background. We could even understand it so: the challenge for you dear readers is to prevail against the smokescreens and observe to what extent our characters are players or played by the merciless black souled stone giant. Enjoy playing the dare of the ages between the lines of these humble memoirs. “

Memoirs from the Downfall - Act I. Mirage by Pfefferminze on ao3 (fic rec!)

This paragraph summs up what Kirkwall is better than I ever could. This shrouded mystery that surrounds Kirkwall keeps you on toes. From the first intro when Varric describes it (paraphrasing from memory) “Kirkwall. The city of chains. It is a free city - keeping in mind i use the the word loosely”. You already start seeing how dark Kirkwall gets. The name, that derives from its black walls (interestingly, the walls in the game aren’t black...), the history of slavery etched into every corner of that city and its surroundings - the names (The Gallows, the Bone Pit, the Wounded Coast, the pub The Hanged Man), the scenery (sculptures of slaves, the sunken ships by the Wounded Coast, slums and underground of the Lowtown and the Darktown).

I was really digging the History of Kirkwall and it loved it. Kirkwall has a history of violence, from the times of slavery of the Tevinter Imperium, to Qunari conquests and liberation from Orlais. Many revolts and uprising. And though free now, it’s suggested that, seeing that the Templars hold the most influence, Kirkwall is in the hands of the Chantry.

It’s full of cultures mixing together. I love how not one of your companions is a native to Kirkwall, and it feels like a crossroads to every character’s life. a very tragic crossroads in their life, seeing there’s nothing ever good waiting for you in Kirkwall.

Also there’s these codex entries you look for about the Enigma of Kirkwall. It was when i started digging that up that i fell in love with the city and all. Combined with the History of Kirkwall and every codex entry for every place in and out of Kirkwall, I was pulling my hair out reading about the Enigma. I..i’m still not quite sure what happened. Did the magisters use blood of thousands upon thousands slaves to unbound a forgotten one? if so, is that corypheus? And around what time did that happen?? I get that part (or all?) of Kirkwall’s mysterious violent agency is owed to corypheus slumbering relatively close to the city, but is that all? or is there something more? In either case, the Band of Tree are my heroes.

4) The characters.

I’ll talk more about them later, but in general, i just love how they oppose each other, how complex they are, and there is just not pleasing everyone. They feel genuine. They are all deeply flawed. They all have a solid background that makes their beliefs and actions convincing. The friendship/rivalry points are shaky though, and sometimes really don’t fit the character, but i guess there must be someone hating/loving your bad choices for the sake of the game regardless of characterisation. But all in all, i really appreciated each and every character, and loved how their viewpoints challenged me.

First i want a disclaimer: i love each and every character in the game, whatever i say against them doesn’t diminish my liking of them. My issues really aren’t significant. Also, i might and probably will say smth wrong bc i’ve only played it once. I’m a baby.

let’s start with Family:

Mama Hawke:

i really loved mama hawke. after reading her codex entry and an excerpt of some book on this site, i really feel for her. I mean, imagine going back to your home city where you only remember being respected and wealthy only to find out everything you remember is gone, you are forced to live in poverty, your kids are doing dangerous jobs and you can’t stop them bc you do need that money, you write letters trying to get the old connections but keep failing (at least it was implied?), it’s really been hard for her. I get why she was so obsessed with her legacy. She wanted her childhood home back. She can’t feel like Kirkwall is her home until she is home.

Also loved her antagonism towards Hawke. It seems she can no longer treat him like a child, so she criticises him instead. and honestly, hawke is doing some crazy things so he defintiely deserves some criticism. And stopping Hawke from taking carver with him is just logical to me, idk. since she knows she can’t stop Hawke from going, she will at least attempt to prevent the last kid from going into mortal danger. I’d do the same. AND AFTER HAVING CARVER DYING IN DEEP ROADS I AGREE WITH HER

All in all, i don’t think she’s a perfect mom, but there is no perfect mom, and Leandra does care a lot for her kids. The All that remains killed me too :’(

Bethany

RIP :(

Her codex is not long, but i guess she wasn’t happy with her magic :(

CARVER

My favouritest bestest bro in the game. A secondary character with an inferiority complex towards his sibling, with no sense of humour, blaming everyone else for his inability to get a life? I see a lot of myself in him. He is sooo bitter, but doesn’t even realise (or at least doesn’t admit) that he’s his biggest obstacle. He feels like it’s Hawke’s fault for Carver not getting his place in the sun, but honestly, it’s Carver’s devotion to Hawke that keeps him from getting a life. He’s just tied with that responsibility and can’t break from it unless forced to.

His interactions with other characters are so funny. Either he’s bitter or he’s awkward, i die every time ;;__;;

Anyways, he became a templar in my game and i thought it fits better thematically (throughout the game the grey wardens felt more like a fanservice material since they really aren’t connected to the story), but after reading that meta about carver and seeing the striking difference between warden!carver and templar!carver i wanna reload and redo everything ;;__;;

i mean... carver isn’t exactly a templar material. The codex entry for templars says that the wanted characteristics of templars are strong faith and utmost obedience, none of which carver really has... . But that moment when he stands up against meredith was *chefs kiss* worth it. I’m just wondering what happens after, is he still a templar? is he with hawke? is he in Kirkwall or if not, where did he go?? so many questions ;A;

Uncle Gamlen

I feel bad for him. Mostly he’s mean but i like to think it’s bc he’s so ashamed that his sister sees what he’s become. And he’s bitter about his own life. I was so happy when i realised he has a personal mission ;__; I feel bad that he didn’t come to live in the hawke estate tho, especially since Hawke is also alone there :(

COMPANIONS!

Varric

There are no words that can properly convey the amount of love for this guy. He is simply flawless. He’s a charming godfather of the dwarven mafia. I wanna have a charming godfather of the dwarven mafia in my life... He already becomes interesting with the intro, and i gotta say, out of all ~storyteller~ types of characters, he is the best. he puts a disclaimer at the beginning with that game tutorial, and during the whole interrogation he’s like “well, how do you know i’m not lying? i could be.” Also, his voice is the second best voice in the game.

As for his personal missions, oh wow, that thing with his big bro really hurt. I also gave him the red lyrium... was that a mistake? will i regret it? ;__; I know the true friend would prevent him, but i also trust that varric knows how to handle dangerous stuff...

On a side note, since i’ve read the comics (no self control whatsoever), i loved the beginning of the Until We Sleep, where varric mentions it’s easier to imagine all the people he had to kill were evil than to face the fact that those were normal people just doing their job or trying to survive. Man, it hurts TAT

*garret hawke’s voice when he looks a certain way at the family crest in the hawke estate* ISABELA!

Ok ok, so, i love Carver bc i relate, i love Varric because he’s simply perfect. But I love Isabela because she’s the most intriguing.

She just crashed in Kirkwall and really didn’t sign up for all the trouble she got. She never likes to have deep conversations, she is always downgrading herself and you just wonder, what is it that happened in her life, and you know her past mistakes haunt her, and she’s doing her best to move on. Her arc was i think my favourite. I think the comic Those Who Speak really adds a lot to her arc in DA2 and makes some of her choices more understandable. Her whole story is about her internal conflict of whether to survive or do the right thing. Her story about freeing the slaves got her ship wrecked is great and all for making her be a pirate with a golden heart, but that story about her drowning all the slaves few years previous make this freeing of slaves a big character moment for her. She finally did the right thing. And she got for it was more trouble, because she’s a pirate which means she can’t afford to just do the right thing. And throughout the game, that same story is going back and forth. She runs off with the Relic bc she’s done the right thing before and it got her nowhere, so now she decided to put her own survival as a priority, but comes back bc she’s too kind to just leave Hawke standing like that. And again, with the slaver papers, it’s the same reasoning: it’s her or the higher cause. She needs that ship. She chooses herself. It’s her biggest flaw. But hey, between pros and antis in your party, it was really refreshing to have someone who, along with varric, just gives you a break with moral high-grounds.

I only wish we actually got to see her more as a captain in power in the game or that she showed me that amazing hat she saw in lowtown. It’s cool that it’s implied that her crew doesn’t like her and she also lost most of them during the crash while the others probably left her after.

I love it when she says she goes sometimes to the docks just to watch the ships. That there is no feeling like sailing. I just want a spin-off with captain isabela’s terrible adventures (´A`)

Also, isabela’s VA is my fave, she really did an amazing job. she voices so smoothly, i wouldn’t know if i was playing a game or watching a movie. And has such a pretty way of talking...

Aveline

I’m really neutral towards Aveline. I like her personality and i like that she’s found herself a purpose and advanced in the guards, and she’s always looking out for everybody. I just wish her personal missions went in the vein of the one in act 1... i feel it would have been more interesting to see her having trouble in her position and that you can’t just waltz into Kirkwall and take command. It’s implied she’s being pressured, so i guess she’s just dealing with it herself, but i just... eh. She’s ok.

Merrill

Merrill actually has one of the if not the most tragic story-line that really challenges you both morally and emotionally.

Her cheerful and cute personality is dampened by her constant dark leitmotif of willingly practicing blood magic. And i think her story really showed well the indirect consequences of it.

Not in one instance was Merrill’s practice of blood magic an active culprit for all tragedy that surrounds her. First, it seems that blood magic is practiced in the clan, seeing there is no freeing Flemeth without it, but i’m guessing it’s seldom practiced and with great caution. So Merrill wasn’t in any danger of being prosecuted for her blood magic. It’s actually her wish to study it further with the help of the demon that makes her an outcast. That and the magic mirror that apparently is forgotten for a reason. Also, it’s made quite clear that Merrill would be welcomed back no questions asked if she at any point decided to ditch the demon and live without the study of magic mirror. She, on the other side, is driven by the higher cause, the idea that figuring out the forgotten purpose of some evil mirror might help her clan, and is willing to be an outcast if it means reaching her goal and helping her clan. Fast foward to act 3, the clan is still there when they should have moved away, and it’s only when you face the demon possessed Keeper, you realise why. She knew Merrill would sooner or later bargain with the demon again. And she sacrificed herself, trapping the demon within her, as to prevent it. And i think that is why the clan stayed so long there. She waited for Merrill because she wanted Merrill to kill her, and hopefully with her the demon. It didn’t go as planned, obviously, but i really think she had good intentions. When Merrill does manage to kill the Keeper she’s forced to face the clan and i chose the wrong option of telling the truth which resulted in a massacre. Merrill gets back and regrets everything. She, however resolves to help the alienage.

The thing is, there is no one to blame Everyone had the best intentions. Everyone is working for the safety of the clan. it’s a story of sacrifice and when sacrifice feels like the wrong choice (whether it truly is or isn’t depends on your worldview) and it’s really done well.

But here are my issues with Merrill. I love her as a character, but i don’t agree with her decisions. It’s a personal issue. Merrill is giving up everything as to help her clan by learning history of the evil mirror. And while this is a game where old things are important and significant, her mission is always explained as this duty of preserving history. And while i agree that preserving history is very important, there is a limit to it. you should never put history before the present. If your research endangers the present, you give up on that line. The other is that you need to make peace with the fact that many, many things are forgotten and will be forgotten. It’s sad, but you gotta make peace with the fact that some things are just gone.

And Merrill, who is a magic historian, fails to see that. So that kinda irks my historian moral codex. And in the end, as far as i know, Merrill doesn’t succeed in reviving the evil mirror and dedicates herself to help the alienage. It was a terrible way to learn that some things aren’t worth it.

The other, less personal issue, is that none of this had to happen. I mean, the keeper obviously didn’t think Merrill was experienced enough to actually deal with demons and therefore distrusted her and warned the clan about it. So, if Merrill was a little bit more patient she could have just studied normally under the keeper, and when she herself becomes the keeper, she could have fraternize with that demon however she wanted without much complications. So yeah... i guess youth is made of idealism.

But as i said, minor issues. Her story is really, really great.

Fenris

Fenris and Anders are my “i love you but i am soo annoyed by you but i still love you” characters. Half of the time they’re just there to make you feel guilty for being a neutral party. Which sometimes has me rolling my eyes. If Fenris and Anders actually got along with each other, slavery and mage oppression would have ended in 2 days. Which makes it all the more frustrating that they do not.

Fenris.. his voice. What a nice voice colour. So elegant, but kinda rough, sometimes he talks like he’s 80 years old, sometimes like he’s a teenager. I love it.

As for the rest, i mean, i don’t agree with his methods, but very often, the guy’s got a point. I get his experience with mages colours his view on them, so while i symphatise, it’s really hard to have him on my “free mages” missions when he’s my best tank and i want him to be on friendly terms with Hawke so this makes things... difficult. That aside, it’s interesting that fenris doesn’t see mages as evil per se, but rather victims who, in his experience, will always, always going to succumb to a demon. It’s an inevitable reality to him. And this makes me wonder if he ultimately, despite being his friend or lover, is just waiting for the day he will be forced to kill Hawke too :(

As for his missions, they were ok, it led up to culmination and i didn’t let him kill his sister bc Hawke has just lost his mom, don’t do smth you’ll regret ;__;

also, somewhere around the end of act 2 i decided to romance fenris bc i love to suffer, so i worked the whole act 3 trying to get more aproval points and also wondering why are there no romance options when i talk to him... turns out that one night stand with isabela romanced her and canceled fenris. But i never even finished the romance with her so i’m just ??? about it all.

I wish it was more explained about the tattoos fenris has? I just thought the tattoos would play a big role somewhere in the game and it just never happened. There was a banter with Merrill about how his tattoos are similar to valaslin, so i thought, hmm, interesting, maybe the two are connected. But nah they just glow in the dark and make you pass through walls. Whatevs.

also dude just goes and kills without a second thought, i’m just “mate, you gotta calm down”. But that’s his thing. He’s constantly bitter and is very bad at anger management. I can’t blame him, considering he lacks around 10- 20 years of experience due to amnesia.

He’s the only one who left me when Hawke sided with mages, and i was like, “ok i getcha, it’s been nice knowing you”, but then when i asked him to join me 5 minutes later he just went “ok changed my mind” which was so funny, like, where did all that integrity dissappear??? It would have been more impactful if the dialogue went in the line of “i want to stand by my principals but you’re a living breathing proof that not all mages are weak to succumb to demons so i’ll join you in the end” (and then side-eye “i told you so” when orsino turns into a demon)

And i wanna read the fenris comic now bc my question for every character here is what is their fate after kirkwall. I only know that isabela & varric are working for alistair and merrill wants to help the alienage. Aveline is i guess either dismissed from her job or got a pass after cullen took the command. But Carver?? Fenris?? Anders?? They never talked about long term plans...

Anders

ooh boy, here we go. there are many questions i have for him and am generally just hmmmm. First, as for his pro-mage rights - it’s like opposite fenris so i just have the same feelings: you mean well, i don’t agree with your methods, your experiences define your worldview so i let some things slide, but other things i will not agree with. Though, question: in how many circles has Anders been? He knows the kirkwall circle, he knows the fereldan circle. Seeing he has excaped 7 times, did they send him to a different circle each time or was the fereldan the last one? or the first one? Or maybe it was his boyfriend they transferred? did i miss something?

I’ll just whisper: awakening!Anders >>> da2!Anders. I just miss the old anders. Which says a lot bc during the awakening i was just “shut up anders”. I miss his bad jokes, his terrible attempts at flirting, his enjoyment of freedom, nagging all the time, and generally being more moderate in pro-mage rights. Like, in awakening, because it was not the only thing he talked about, it felt more personal and intense. Here mage-rights are the only thing he ever talks about + justice. I mean, please correct me if i’m wrong, this was just general impression. But to defend da2!Anders here, it makes sense that merging with mixed both of their personality, and i like that they did that. It’s also very sad.

The thing is, when i’m thinking about anders, i love his story and character. Just as it’s terrible that Fenris, having no memory from before being Fenris, Anders can never go back to being just Anders. And this, people, is why you don’t fraternize with spirits. He’s obviously afraid of how justice is affecting him and there are some bare traces of his old personality and i guess he wouldn’t be as radical if he didn’t have justice personality that can’t stand the injustice. And in combination with anders quite selfish personality (form awakening, and i say that lovingly), it makes him do things that justice wouldn’t condone. Anders is literally a walking bomb.

Again, same problem as with fenris, i really thought that the justice glow would have a incredibly significant culmination, and it didn’t, it was just to show that anders and justice are very bitter. Eh, ok.

Also, i let anders join after he blew up the chantry, bc he started it, so might as well follow it through.

Some minor characters that i remember

Senechal Bran for the next Viscount! He hated hawke so much but still put up with him.

Feynriel is the coolest mage in Kirkwall. I think his missions were my favourite. Dude goes from “oh no i’m a mage” to “i will just dreamwalk to tevinter and learn control the reality” to “i dream-killed bad people from thousands of miles away”. Does he appear in the next game? I want him on my side. He’s so cool.

I think the Maker is sending Cullen signs to quit being a templar. First job: evil mages that tortured you. Instead of “this job will kill you” h took it as a “never trusting mages again, got it”. Second job: your boss is evil possessed paranoid maniac. Man, talk about bad luck.

What is the story of the Lady Elegant?

Flemeth had that big great talk at the beginning of the game and i thought by the end of the game i’d realise what it meant, but nope, still no clue.

Ok so I defeated Corypheus, but there was this looong shot of Larius walking away. Corypheus possessed larius, didn’t he? He’s out there. In a madman’s body. I know he appears in inquisition.

Many thoughts

I gotta say, in Kirkwall, at least, it didn’t feel like much of a challenge to pick a side. Like, there was no mage who said “hey i actually really like it here in the circle, the templars aren’t so bad”, and having templars actually smuggling mages from the circle says a lot to say the least. Every time a mage talks to you, unless you go with “oh they’re 100% lying”, their stories invoke sympathy and of course you want to help them. And then in 99% cases they turn to blood magic bc there was no other way. Except that dude who always hanged out with the wrong people, he only did blood magic to save Carver. But yeah, that turning to blood magic was like having Fenris side-eye me with an unspoken “i told you so” bc every mage, whether in desperation or hunger for power, will turn sooner or later into a demon. Regardless, blood magic was always in the act of desperation and self-defense. The only times where magic was actually evil was the slavers and the serial killer, who is a madman.

When i was reading the Enigma of Kirkwall, there was a part that talks of a blood-mage conspiracy and i was all, oh shit, there is a reason why templars are mean to mages! maybe the conspirators are framing innocent mages on blood magic crimes that they actually commit, maybe Meredith is actually on trail of the conspirators, maybe there is a reason for animosity on both sides. After all, Kirkwall was known for having a bigger number of apostates, a bigger number of blood magic cases and far more ruthless templars. It added up.Thinking back now, i never even got any specific reason why meredith was so intensely anti-mage, other than going mad.

But yeah, no conspirators. Just sad mages and mean templars, and good templars that get screwed by desperate and mean mages.

While in Kirkwall it’s easy to be a pro-mage, i was thinking a lot about mage-rights in general so let me indulge myself: there are circles, but the mages aren’t oppressed. Rather, the circles would be educational centres and society in every larger city where one learns how to properly handle magic bc magic is dangerous. You can leave when you pass the final exam and also come back anytime to hang out with mages who decide to live there since the institution would support mages.

Also, when one gets possessed, i’d invest more into “walk into their head and free them of demons” specialists. It’d be cool if you could have a dreamer who does that bc no lyrium spent. Honestly, why don’t they ever do that? How did the keeper do that rite for Feynriel? Was it blood magic?

I guess, you’d still have to answer for your crimes, tho no death punishment and degradation allowed. Blood magic wouldn’t be punishable by death, but rather have specialists who study it, but practice with extreme caution and use of another person’s blood is strictly prohibited.

Templars would still exist but completely reformed. No more “mages are all potential disasters”, but i’d rather make it that mages can too be templars, since they both have abilities that prevents the others from casting magic. This way the control system would be much like the dalish: if the keeper(mage) is possessed, the clan (which means the non-mages and the first(mage)) need to kill them. You could argue that you don’t need templars as non-mages, since mages can do it too, but seeing that in general people fear magic and feel inferior to it (since there’s a collective memory of the great tevinter imperium), having non-magic specialists would make them feel like on equal ground. The extra-reformed templars would be under Circle, not under direct command of the chantry, and circle, depending of whether chantry is reformed, might or might not be under chantry.

(a side note, i was thinking about templars recently and i can’t recall an instance where it says who had the clever idea to chew lyrium first? i just wanna know)

I know that DA2 wasn’t about grey wardens and therefore not about darkspawn, but seeing as in legacy we get corypheus being... an evil version of the Architect(??), i was only wondering do we get more answers about the darkspawn? is there hope for them? is the Architect still alive?

And oh, to turn to the Anders question:

Is he a terrorist, or was that just activism? I mean, i don’t see why those two can’t go together. blasting a building with a symbolic significance killing and harming many innocent people to get a message of your radical activism across belongs into a schoolbook of terrorism. Does he have a good cause? He sure believes so, and i, too, agree that mages should not be oppressed for just being mages. But does that mean this is the right way to do it? Personally, i do not condone any act of violence in service of a political or religious cause. I know it’s sometimes inevitable, but i like to believe there are more diplomatic ways, or at least not including an attack on civilians.

That aside, the moment where anders goes in front and just announces that the church was gonna blow up in a minute was the best anders moment for me. Until that point i more or less just viewed his activism as a hobby since he just did it in his free time, but now he put his money where his mouth is and freaking went all out. Cool character moment. And incredibly heartwrenching. He was aware of how many innocents he killed, but just didn’t see other way to get the point across.

I still don’t agree with his idea of blowing up the church tho. Maybe if he told Hawke, they could have done something to empty the church previously and further people away from it and then blow it up?

But still, blowing up religious buildings isn’t the answer. If i was the radical mage activist, i would have gone for the open assassination. Seeing it worked in WW1, i don’t see why it couldn’t start a fantasy war.

Some random things i liked:

uniportant but lovable interractions in the house: it starts innocently with gamlen’s house, to see how you’re doing, and becomes really fun during act 2 when you see your friends have been here and left you things. In act 3, however, it feels melancholic. no more family to come back to, just ghosts of friends that have visited, Bodahn and Sandal being there for you, Orana still not getting some sunlight and your dog at the fireplace. The Hawke Family Suite is playing, and you feel older than you are, lonlier than you should be. just... ouch. I hope Bodahn adopted Orana and took her out of Kirkwall :(

t i named the dog “Maker” which is very funny to me bc every time i summon the dog i just imagine Hawke yelling “Maker help us”. Carver hates the name bc he needs to chase the dog often in the streets. Mama Hawke never ever calls the dog Maker, but she never has to call the dog anything: he’s super obedient towards her.

Fighting wasn’t as hard as in origins, i like that.

The haunted house mission was so cool.

When random people greet aveline in Hightown.

And that’s i think about it. There are probably plenty more things i loved, but i think this is already enough. if somebody told me i’d be playing so much this year, i’d laugh, but I already want to play the next game ;;___;;

#don't klick keep reading if you aren't ready to scroll endlessly #a very long post #in which i:#love everything #stan carver #cry over fictional characters #need a romance manual #form political opinions in a fictional game #give a random fic rec that is so worth your time #if you've read this you're a hero and i'm sorry #da2 #spoilers for those who plan to play #it took me a week to write this god

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lunchador · 4 years ago

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ok but!!! what happened!!! im screaming!!! you finished the game but there are no details!!! friend i need details!!! who sided with who!!!! im just!!! so excited about ur playthru and i need any and all details about how u feel about anders rn especially!!! i think there was less different paths because funding but i still would like to Know

SO!! MUCH!! HAPPENED!!

It was funny, cuz, y’know, in comparison to DA:O where the END OF THE WORLD is hanging above your head at all times, I felt the pacing was considerably more relaxed in 2. And in retrospect, it definitely was building up in ways you weren’t quite piecing together (Or am I dumb? That’s usually the case) as you aren’t even sure why you have the derogatory title from cassandras mouth of Champion. Champion, of fuckin what? I do chores for people.

So like most of the game feels like you’re chilling. Talk to some people, do some small quests, learn some lore.

Then like, the qunari attack happened. Which, I assume happens regardless, correct? Man that statue of me looks douchey as hell. Flaming sword?

ANDERS CAN SUCK SHIT. That fucker lied to me? and made everything OH SO MUCH FUKIN WORSE. Oh boohoo I want to rid justice, distract her so I can MURDER PEOPLE ACTUALLY INSTEAD?? Like, MAN, I really like him on paper, healer of the needy, activist, cat lover. But he is so warped in his thinking and self hate. Also I know I joked about this somewhere but our second conversation ever (first one being when I met him) he gives me a big speech about how he could see us together but how he’s so bad he’s a monster boohoo so i need to stay away from him romantically and I’m standing there like.......yeah ok man.

I SHOULD HAVE KILLED HIM - I was legit SO mad he did that. Everything was bad as is, and he made it worse. If I hadn’t have helped in that quest would it still have happened? AUGH. Almost everyone wanted him dead but I still felt bad. Of the companions, I think i bonded with him and sebastian the least. I tried really hard to side with the mages, cuz, i’m a mage, i dont think magic is bad but bad people can have magic, and Meredith IS a dick and instigated it, BUT THERE IS SO FUCKING MUCH BLOOD MAGIC IN KIRKWALL, WHY.

AND FUCKIN SEBASTIAN - SO MAD - was like if you let him live i’m coming back with an army to attack. like...bro what happened to being a peaceful monk or whatever the shit? I thought I told you taking the crown wasn’t worth it if you don’t want it? fuckin jude law looking motherfucker. But i barely played with him and i figured anders healing would be useful for the end. so, i took anders with me. So now I guess I’m gonna hear in inquisition about this dude coming in to attack kirkwall later idk SIGH

So yeah, I tried to side with Orison. Then that bitch ass gave in to blood magic too and turned into that disgusting abomination. I HATE when you try to defend someone and they too turn into a jackass. Fuck you, man. And Meredith of course is off her rockers with red lyrium. I hate all of these people. I tried to save the decent mages where I could and that bit me in the ass with one of them at the end FUCK YOU, UNGRATEFUL.

A N Y W A Y S,

since I’m sooooooo good at these games (how am I so so so bad??) Hawke basically...lost everyone. I didn’t officially romance anyone. Though in the epilogue, it says everyone eventually splits from Hawke except Isabela. I figured she had a soft spot for me. I think I couldn’t fully romance her because I didn’t get her the boat? Idk. I didn’t like the romance system in this game. Like, yes it makes sense for story plot reasons but it’s terribly confusing for someone not in the know and I hated looking at guides because they had spoilers.

My mom got murdered by a serial killer blood mage, r.i.p. My sister is dead. I am SO surprised Carver sided with me in the end. I thought he was genuinely about to pick being a templar over me and fight. I TRIED TO BE SO NICE TO THAT FUCKER.

i’m surprised cullen sided with me too. the few interactions you have with him in origins and here he’s kind of a dick. and i know all that shit going on with his VA so i am not stoked for him in inquisition

I tried/failed to romance Fenris. Man, I got SO attached to him?? He tries so hard to be grumpy but you get under his skin. Every time he called me his friend or smiled I was like YES, YOU FUCKER, YOU LIKE ME. But being a mage is such a cockblock. FUCK. I’m definitely kissing him next time. But I can at least brag that I guess I did his companion quest correctly enough and he was maxed out cuz he didn’t leave me. He seemed begruding that he was gonna defend mages but he was gonna do it for ME. BFFs til the end.

how the fuck did fenris turn around and settle for compromise while anders was still pissy as hell? I guess anders just feels so much for others. also the whole tranquil shit was sooo fucked. Also I love they’ve known each other for 6 years and they’re still disgustingly snippy with each other - FIGHT!!!!

MERRIL TRIED TO CONFESS FEELINGS FOR ME. HOW? I kept pissing her off by not supporting the blood mage shit. I HAD TO PULL THE LIKE A SISTER LINE. MERRIL IM SO SORRRRRRYYYYYYYYYYYY. She’s so sweet, yet her quest was incredibly fucked up oh my god?? We had to kill the dalish group and I FELT AWFUL. WHY SO MUCH BLOOD MAGIC????????

I thought this game was going to end with assigning a new viscount. ANd I was like man that sucks, Sid isn’t the type for permanent responsibility like that but like, if it’ll get everyone to shut the fuck up ok. But...that wasn’t the ending. I hope that gets addressed in inquisition? I felt like that kinda got cliffhanger’d. Also I’m assuming Aveline had to run too being she was associated with me so the guard is probably in shambles too.

oh my god what about dominic? D:

anyway, I would die for varric, and while I understand the story reasons for not letting him be romancable, it still sucks cuz he pairs SO well with a snarky Hawke, sigh

but yeah there may have been less big decisions but there certainly were a lot of smaller ones I felt I fucked up. I’m just.......so good at that. I got so many people KILLED.

def some replay value in there!! I tried to do a lot more sidequests in this one than origins. so we will see how inquisition goes. It’s been super hyped to me and I’m told it’s pretty long

Its just crazy all the shit hawke got caught up in without even particularly trying. Like the warden is there because, yeah, they’re a grey warden, one of the few, but in 2 its just kinda like..............oops lmfao.

#dragon age

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purgatoryandme · 4 years ago

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Fade-touched. With no magic of her own, the Fade still dictates Hawke’s every move. It forces her to become a better escape artist near-daily - a runner from the moment her feet could first stay steady under her wobbling legs. Fade-touched. Fade-held. Fade-crushed. Her mother thinks the Fade is something they can run from. Maybe she’s right. Maybe if it were just the Fade, Hawke could tip it a crooked grin, do some fancy footwork, and then put it behind her like so many towns and Templars. From the moment she laid eyes on her twin siblings, though, and then again from her sixteenth year onward (a weight at her back briefly lifted, hefted into her arms like the twins so many years ago - begging to be spun, slashing through ozone and salt), Hawke knows there are some things that can never be escaped. Fade-touched. Fate-marked. She was always going to be a story. ____________________ Fade-touched and fate-marked. Sixteen years old with a long sword strapped to her back (freshly cleaned and swaddled in oilcloth), Hawke contemplates that which cannot be escaped. On the long walk home she laughs bitterly over the irony of it all. A life spent on the run, perfecting the skill until it was second nature, and she can’t escape this one thing. She doesn’t even want to. She doesn’t know what she would be without it. (A person, perhaps) (Certainly not a story) ____________________ Varric hears about her long before he sees her. Of course, that’s usually how his introductions go. His ears are open long before his eyes. None of his informants are terribly good with paints or charcoal, you see (useless bastards - he should get them to practice portraiture so he’s never caught so thoroughly off-guard again). The Amell siblings did not enter Kirkwall quietly. There was a lot of kicking and screaming and wailing. Business as usual, really. Most people didn’t enter Kirkwall willingly, and those that did were usually desperate enough for the usual theatrics to apply anyway. Still, the Amells made a splash. Disgraced (by an affair with an apostate no less) ex-nobles returning to an estate that’s been gambled away by a drunk?Juicy. Well, juicy to thieves. Until they proved to be dirt-poor Ferelden refugees barely worth whatever fee Arenthel was paid to get them into the city. Then, THEN, one of the siblings turned out to BE the fee Arenthel was paid. Just the one. Intriguing, but Varric can think of a lot of reasons Arenthel would pay for a pretty face - dark hair and blue eyes. Probably not the boy, too brawny and sour to be good at collecting information. The girl could be useful - her walking stick wasn’t fooling anyone, but those delicate features sure could. He’d overlooked the third Amell child entirely. A rookie mistake, really, her chosen last name notwithstanding. He let himself look (well, let his informants look) without really seeing. And when you were just looking...well. Hawke didn’t look like much. Or rather she didn’t look much like her siblings, who stood out in the way that you’d expect any purchase to in this city. In the way you’d expect a dirty secret to. It hadn’t occurred to anyone not in the know that Hawke was related to any of them. For all intents and purposes, coming from nobility as the Amells did, Hawke seemed to be a bodyguard (just like the red-haired guardswomen). She wasn’t the product of careful Kirkwall breeding. She didn’t even look Ferelden. Hawke’s nose seems certain to be her namesake. Prominent and high-bridged, hooked in a way that was unusual for people of her colouring (and, if Varric is being honest, the kind of thing that would prevent her from ever having a career at the Rose. Or, he’ll think later with ink and paper in hand, from ever being forgotten). Her skin is dark enough to look Rivaini, which, coupled with the russet-dark of her hair and her build (broad shoulders and hips, thick thighs, tall enough that his neck ached), is almost enough to make him forget the distinctly Ferelden nature of that nose. What makes him remember, what forces him to see the slightest family resemblance in the siblings he’s spying on, are her eyes frosty pale and narrow, or seemingly narrowed by thick heavy lashes, in the way only human eyes ever were (elves were always wide and guileless. Dwarves never seemed so...pointy. Qunari didn’t count - he didn’t look them in the eyes. Couldn’t at his height). Sharp, like ice chips, and made sharper against the warm tones of her skin. Wraith-like. Later, he’ll realize her eyes aren’t the same glowing Amell blue as the twins or her mother. Instead, they’re a shade of green so pale it’s nearly grey. He’ll only realize this when Carver makes it clear they consider her no sister of theirs, however, and he’ll wonder how he missed it over a week at her side. He’ll wonder that often about Hawke - how he missed things. How he missed her.

She’s a stunner, that’s for sure. Just not in an entirely good way. She cuts an intimidating figure, larger than life somehow, with features so bold that Varric can practically hear the nobles waxing poetic about her ugliness for years to come. Choppy dark hair and mismatched armour over dense muscle just make her seem more boyish and boorish, adding another layer to the tableau. Adding another layer to the distance between her and her picture-perfect siblings.

She’s certainly something - maybe something he hadn’t learned the words for yet (something that will send him, drunk and careening, to his library time and again. Paging cover to cover through poetic epics for a hero that had even a fraction of the something he wanted to describe). Not at all what he expected from the whisperings or from keeping tabs on the mage Amell in case the Templars ruined something interesting before it got to be INTERESTING. He’d expected a catlike rogue or some Feredelen beauty. Something for the history books, you know? Tawdry and bawdy and fitting to the tales he’d later spin in the Hanged Man for drunks and gentry alike. Varric’s forgotten that first impression a thousand times over and reread it on an old ledger just as many times. Hawke has a way of doing that to him. Making him forget the past, replacing it with their present (visceral like a knife to the gut. Which he’s experienced with her. More than once). Hawke also has a way of being underestimated at first glance. Maybe that’s why Bartrand refuses her and the little cutpurse thought he could get clever. Varric puts on a show with Bianca. Hawke is alone - no siblings in sight. She’d only volunteered herself for the expedition. It’s jarring to suddenly have the woman he’s been watching for hours watch him back. Even as she makes quips with the best of them, Varric can’t help but feel like she’s waiting for a blow. Hawke’s guarded in the way a kicked dog is. Unpredictable in the same sense. It makes Varric nervous, but also makes it impossible to walk away. He wants this one on the expedition. He thinks she’ll make it worth his while (just like Arenthel earned her money four times over with just one of a set of three. She passed up on an apostate beauty who knew healing magic. Hawke was definitely someone he’d take a bet on). She does. Creators, she does and then some, wrenching Varric and Anders, the Grey Warden she’d blackmailed and cajoled into accompanying them, through the Deep Roads with an animal glint in her eyes that increases with every day spent in the dark. She jokes with them often, but it isn’t until the near-endless battling with Darkspawn drains even her to the ends of her reserves that she begins to tell them stories to keep their long march going. “My father was an apostate.” She tells them, not meeting their eyes, likely anticipating and disliking their knowledge of this fact (Anders, through his willingness to come along at all. Varric because he was Varric - no stone unturned), “He was never contained in the Circle. To hear him tell it, he was never escaping anything. He moved because he felt like it. Because there was a great plan that he was following, and if it lead him away from the Templars? So be it.” Garrett Hawke was a man who did not exist, at least according to every record Varric had scoured (and he had, he believed, scoured them all). Varric had thought, up until this point, that the name was simply an alias. He still thought that, but now... Well, he had to wonder. Hawke’s sibling had never been caged. Perhaps her father flew free, too? Anders certainly seemed to think so (the animal glint in Hawke’s eyes was fever-bright in his own, near-glowing against the dirt and Darkspawn blood smeared on his skin). “Freedom isn’t free.” Hawke says, a sardonic little twist to her lips causing her teeth to flash in the torchlight as she glances at Anders, “He paid for it in destiny and a dragon was the shopkeep.” Varric would laugh at the frustrated befuddlement on the mage’s face if it wasn’t echoed on his own. “My father made this blade.” Another day, another story. The long sword on Hawke’s back stayed wrapped, no matter the fight to be had, twin daggers finding themselves home in her hands and her enemies throats. It was only exposed in moments like these - where she carefully oiled it as they made camp. “We forged it together, but the materials were things he had for years. It was mine to carry the moment it was finished. I’d never heard my mother so angry with him.” “Were you just a pipsqueak?” Varric asks, struggling to imagine her as something so small and soft as a child, “Not quite as tall as your sword was high?” Her eyes crinkle, or at least he thinks they do (torchlight stopped being an option in the morning, and Anders’ mage light was a dim and eerie substitute). “I was thirteen.” She tells him, lifting a hand to indicate how tall she’d stood then (about his height, he was chagrined to see), “Beth had just come into her magic. Father took me on a hunt the moment he realized, deep enough into the Wilds that nobody stood a chance of finding us. We came back with a blade, no meat to speak of, and to a little girl who had half-incinerated our cottage. My being a child bore no mind in her anger.” She snickered, despite the flicker of something Varric felt at the image she’d painted (a child standing apart from their siblings, pushed there by a parent declaring their favourite, widening the chasm with the gift of a weapon handmade and crafted in a moment no other family had witnessed - an intimacy impossible to intrude on and rendered in steel), “Carver also flew into a bitter tantrum about wanting a sword shortly afterwards. Both her angels were little hellions for years after that hunt.” Despite knowing they were being baited, Varric still asked the question that had taken root in his mind; “What made them stop? I’m certain it wasn’t from maturing - the very idea would probably bring your brother to tears.” Hawke’s calloused hands caressed the edge of the blade, skin just barely splitting (a cut so thin blood didn’t even bead. Or at least, that’s how the mage light made it appear). Her face was carefully blank no matter how Varric strained his eyes as she replied, “They realized what it was for.”

____________________ Varric tucked Hawke’s stories away for later contemplation. He embedded them into the skin of his arms with quill and ink, determined to remember their exact wording, on the night (or day or midmorning or whatever passed for time under the blasted Darkspawn damned ground) when Anders finally allows Justice out to play, emitting enough light and power that they can struggle their way to the surface, and Hawke mutters something about the Fade that has the spirit’s pupilless eyes settle on and see her. There’s something there. A story. He pieces it together in fits and starts. Junior, Carver Amell (who doesn’t deserve to go by that name, not with the sharp distaste he displays whenever Hawke calls him Carver like he’s asked), trails after them post-expedition and post-Bethany (sweeter than her brother, her bitterness reminiscent of dark chocolate instead of stale beer and regret) entering the Circle. Hawke doesn’t turn him away - Varric suspects she can’t after her sister turned her back on her protection and willingly joined the one thing their family had run from for years - and so Varric has a source of information. He’s somewhat loathe to use it, though. He doesn’t love the way Junior wields his words. They’re such clumsy weapons - he’s liable to hurt himself just as badly as he intends to hurt Hawke.

Still. Still - Varric is shameless in his pursuit of a story. He’s done more disgusting things (though sometimes...sometimes Hawke looks at him, ice-chip eyes warmed by firelight and wine and Wicked Grace, and her mouth twists a little. That same sardonic grin he’d seen underground when she told them freedom isn’t free. And he doesn’t like that look sitting on her face, not when it’s turned his way). And it’s worth it. It repulses him to think it, but all those little bits of information he’s hoarded are worth it. Because their party is chased down by Tevinter thugs in a set-up orchestrated by a magic-hating elf tattooed in lyrium who can physically reach into a person’s chest to crush their heart, and the most fascinating thing to happen was little brother’s subsequent freak out. “Chase him off!” He hissed into Varric’s ear, bent double to do so and no doubt rendering himself a comical image (red-faced under Fenris’ cool scrutiny and Hawke’s stiff-backed refusal to turn to him). “He can literally tear my heart from my chest. Forgive me if I’m not inclined to chase him off my lawn.” Varric hissed back, half-hysterical as Fenris’ gaze drifted between them. “You’ll have bigger things to worry about if he sticks around!” Junior fired back, shaking Varric by the shoulders and gesturing at Fenris’ bristling armour and weapons. “Hawke’s ‘I murder dragons and also really big spiders’ sized sword is almost the same size as his. While you’re all busy seeing which is the bigger thing to worry about, I’ll just run off to High Town in a set of heels where you lot will never think to look for me.” Varric mutters, much more careful than little brother (the littlest, with his petty attitude - a little dog barking at some junkyard Mabari) to keep his voice down, though Fenris’ lips twitched anyway. “Don’t talk about it like that.” Junior snarled viciously, “Her using it near him is exactly what I’m worried about. I don’t know what it will do.” Now Fenris’ shoulders were drawing up, impossibly spiky pauldrons growing dangerously close to his ears as his gaze flitted over to Hawke, who sighed unhappily. “I’m not going to stab you, Fenris. Not even in a fun way.” She said, sliding her daggers back into their sheaths and rolling out her neck with a crooked grin (one that didn’t reach her eyes and sent another stab of dislike rolling through Varric towards her bratty little brother that rose in sharp competition with his curiousity). “Is it enchanted?” Fenris asked, gravelly voice walking a knifes’ edge between interest and distaste that mirrored Varric’s own thoughts too well for comfort (he was pretty sure Fenris was crazier than a nug on lyrium - the comparison wasn’t flattering). “I’m pretty enchanted with it.” Hawke replied, sweeping the oilcloth bundle off her back and resting her weight on the pommel, driving the tip of the blade against the cobblestones below, “Most people find gifts enchanting, though.” A not at all smooth or subtle evasion, though Varric had to admire the way she’d managed to imply that if it was enchanted, it certainly wasn’t her who had done it. Fenris had cottoned on to the same idea, but Carver looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel. “Your...brother certainly seems to think there is something I would find distasteful about it. I doubt he’s worried about my wellbeing.” The humour in Fenris’ voice didn’t quite cover his unease, but it did reflect a desire to please. Varric was certain the elf meant to stick around if he could now that he was certain Hawke was no mage. “Distasteful?” Hawke laughs, leaning more heavily on the blade and flicking her gaze to Carver on time to see his wince, “No, he only applies that word to our kinship. He thinks you’ll turn out to be a thief.” Fenris’ jaw set and Varric’s heart quickened in response. Carver’s fingers practically crushed his shoulder. “Of a blade?” Fenris asked, taking a menacing step forward. Hawke chuckled again, though her knuckles had gone white where they wrapped around an exposed silvery green pommel. “No,” She shook her head, sardonic twist of the lips in place as she tutted, “Of a life.” Offence coloured Fenris’ sharp retort of, “Yours?” Making it blunt and threatening as he drew even closer. “Not mine.” She shrugs, "One that can’t be stolen, bought and sold. It’s a pointless fear related to those.” She taps a single finger against Fenris’ exposed throat, directly over a silvery green line, before leaning back and hefting her blade back to its resting place between her shoulders. Carver abruptly lunged forward, fingers still buried in Varric’s tunic (dragging him a stumbling step towards Hawke despite his dwarven weight. Quite the feat for little brother). “Don’t let her touch you!” He snapped at the elf, “Or she’ll kill you, too!” Turning on her heel, Hawke's face disappeared from view. She began to stride away, heading off to the Hanged Man most likely, without a single glance back. Instead she called out over her shoulder: “Maybe my poison touch doesn’t affect dwarves, because Varric’s not dead yet, Carver. I think you might actually beat me to that particular punch.” Needless to say, the elf followed. Varric did, too, unable to walk away when his last sight of her was her back. Junior didn’t. ____________________ “She’ll kill you, too.” Words meant something to Varric. Even the ones spilled from an imbecile’s lips (one who had realized Varric was not his friend, unfortunately. He couldn’t mourn the loss much, though something in his chest felt slightly out of place when Hawke cast a look about the Hanged Man on Wicked Grace nights and sighed at the utter lack of her brother’s presence. He’d come crawling back eventually, as unable to ignore her and she was him). “Too.” Meant something. It meant something in the context of that damnable blade, that sardonic twist of Hawke’s lips that meant she was telling a story, the one that meant honesty and a certain resignation (an animal glint in her eyes in the dark, a cornered animal that always knew the tunnel had an end, that always knew it was going to fight to its bloody last). “What made them stop?” “They realized what it was for.” “She’ll kill you, too!” Not enchanted, but enchanting. Apostate-forged in the Wilds by a man who bought his freedom for the price of destiny from a dragon. The answer was obvious. Somehow, though, Varric couldn’t quite put pen to paper. Couldn’t write down a new observation in one of dozens of journals dedicated to Hawke, the only way to keep track of all that made her her before she talked her way into making him forget. Sighing, Varric pushed his unbound hair back from his face. Slipped his glasses from his nose. Pressed his forehead to the page as he closed his eyes. He was shameless for a good story. Ruthless in its pursuit. He wanted - no, needed - answers. And yet. He could wait for this one. For another sardonic twist of the lips. For more crumbs that Hawke would drop at his feet, knowing he would pick them up, finding their reassembly as inevitable as her brother’s dislike and her mother’s silence (living in a manor Hawke had purchased with children Hawke had been bought and sold for). Pressing his face ever further into the paper, Varric groaned in horror. He didn’t want to be another inevitability in Hawke’s life. He wanted to be a choice.

#hawke x varric #things that I'll never finish #garrett made a deal with flemeth when he was just a boy #struck the bargain with her most might strike with a demon when the fade grew to be too much #magic the likes of which none of his peers had #freedom to follow his heart's desires and to be secure in his head at night #with the knowledge that one day his head would no longer be secure #and he would either become a monstrosity and be wiped off the face of the planet #or he could die a different way #not quite dying not quite immortal #a true plaything for something that has maybe lived forever but maybe hasn't #he bargained a daughter and destiny #there's a reason maybe that hawke doesn't look anything like her mother despite being born from her ohohohoho #he groomed hawke to be what she is since she was young #a wild untameable thing that can run far and wide and free from all but destiny #with a mind that is never quite honest #because she dreams in the Fade like all people do #but she's awake there. really and truly.#no magic to speak of #but wrapped in it nonetheless - a conduit despite all odds #when beth comes into her magic hawke links her and her father #so he makes the blade that's been in his bargain for years #and he gives it to her to carry with the knowledge that #on the day he becomes a monstrosity she will cut him down before his soul is torn to shreds in the fade #and that she'll keep him and his blood magic with her #he's kinda a shitty dude? loves her but doesn't REALLY care for his family in the face of destiny #he never concealed from leandra that he wanted hawke to kill him and she's horrified by the idea #and then hawke does it because she's always done what garrett has asked of her #and leandra just CANT #and carver is bitter for years because he wanted to be trusted like that

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the-halo-of-my-memory · 4 years ago

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Tell Me You Love Me Anyway (rough draft - tease)

A/n: This probably has a billion errors but I feel like posting it anyway. This is only a tiny bit of what I have in mind. I could use as much feedback as possible for this.

---- [Act 1] ----

Maker, did Anders miss being drunk.

Justice hasn’t let him sway under the influence since their union. He sees it as a waste of time and senses.

But to lose one's senses was such a beautiful and intoxicated mess to be a part of.

Can you stop speaking nonsense?

It’s not nonsense, it’s passion.

It is a waste of time.

Anders chuckles, nearly spilling his useless drink in the process.

“What’s so funny, mage?”

It’s Fenris. He held a drink also, now flirting with drunkenness that will soon take him fully.

The two have only met not too long ago through a mutual friend, one Garrett Hawke. Anders liked Hawke enough. He was a fellow mage and Fereldan refugee who suffered loss before reaching Kirkwall. He came to his clinic a month ago asking for maps to the Deep Roads.

It sounded so ridiculous. People who went to the Deep Roads voluntarily must have a death wish. To want to walk in a place full of darkspawn and deepstalkers. A place with rocky terrain and putrid wet air. It was dark and in some places you could hardly see your own hand in front of your place. He could light a torch but it wasn’t worth accidentally burning someone.

He never wants to go there again. Especially not without Pounce.

Things changed though. For a favor, he asked for a favor himself.

Karl……..

He did love him…….and to see him like that……...made tranquil…….

It broke more than just his heart, it shattered his entire being.

Oh Karl…..

Back in the Circle, the two had agreed between kisses in a quiet nook away from prying eyes, that if either of them became tranquil, they would not want to live like that. There was no known cure. It was either be made a thoughtless pet of the Templars and the Chantry or death.

It wasn’t actually a plan that would happen. He didn’t think this would be an actual choice that he would make.

Oh maker, Karl…….

It has been a month since he had to kill him. He still feels the blood on his hands, the sound of his last breath, and how empty he felt when he fell upon the floor.

He still yearns to get a letter from him…..anything from him.

Despite everything, he had Hawke to thank. At least Karl has peace now. He can have the maps and himself for the expedition if needed.

Though he resented it at the time, he was glad he went to have drinks with Hawke the night after. Hearing his and Aveline’s story of loss before reaching Kirkwall brought him back from the pain.

Hawke had asked him to join him on another night like that.

“But you know, in much better spirits,” he said with a hand on the back of his neck. He swore he saw him turn a shade red underneath that smile and beard.

And here he is now.

He sat at a table with Fenris, Isabela, Varric, and Merrill. The women were giggling and whispering, Merrill turning pink and covering her mouth while Isabella said something too low for him to decipher. The men were talking about one of Varric’s tales.

“No, dwarf. I have never read any of your stories.”

“Have you ever thought about it?”

“No.”

“And why is that?”

“Varric, I can’t read.”

Well, that’s news…….

Wait, where’s Hawke? He was here just a second ago.

Anders spots him at the bar. Talking with someone, a human woman.

He’s never seen her before. She was short, maybe the same height as Merrill. She had deep warm mahogany skin, short dark curly hair, and wore a shirt opened at the neck and chest tucked into the tightest pair of trousers he’s ever seen.

Sweet Andraste, what an arse!

They speak for a short moment before they each grab a drink and walk over to wear the rest of them sat.

“Maker, Hawke!” Isabella yells, “How did you find this fine lady? Tell me, are you seeing anyone. Do you have a sister?”

Hawke’s friend laughs loud and boisterous, covering her mouth half way before she sits herself down.

“I’m not interested, I'm afraid. If I have a sister, I wouldn’t know. But I know some ladies who would love to give some company to a humorous and attractive lady such as yourself.”

“You’ll have to tell me all about them, kitten.”

She sat next to Anders and Hawke sat on the other side of her.

Now closer to him, he gets a good look at her.

Fine lady indeed. She had deep dark wide eyes like the night’s sky. Lips pursed as she took sips on her drink. Lots of skin covered down her naked neck and chest, teasing the swell of her breasts where her shirt is undone by the laces. She had small hands with gentle fingers tapping on the drink and the table. She wore no makeup and no jewelry.

Not that she needed them.

“Friends!” Hawke stood up, hitting and shaking the table on the way. “I want you to meet my friend, Valentine. Val, these are my friends. This is Varric, and that’s Merrill and that’s-” He introduces everyone by name and they all exchange words and greetings. When Anders’ was introduced, he said “hello there.” She replies with only one word.

“Pleasure.”

*******

I have no idea where I am.

It’s green all over. The grass is green and long and being blown by the wind. And the sky is blue and cloudless.

It’s not cold. But it was cold? There were clouds and snow and cold. And now…..not anymore.

I don’t understand. I was in the car with Jackson. Where is he?

I remember something. When we were driving…...I saw lights. Like headlights and then…….

Am I dead? Is this a dream? Am I in a coma? I don’t understand at all.

My suitcase is here. It has my stuff still in it. Didn’t expect that old vintage thing to hold up. My clothes are there, but it’s too warm for them. I’m wearing the only pair of shoes I brought. My notebook was also there, and I’m writing in it right now.

I don’t know what to do.

*******

The next time he meets Hawke’s friend is when they get ready for the Deep Roads expedition.

They were all together meeting with Bertrand in Hightown. He had to give credit to Hawke for making a colorful group of friends. He sees her near him, dressed in leather armor and carrying a long thin sword in a scabbard by her side.

Her eyes catch his and she waves a hello to him. He waves back.

Hawke and the dwarven brothers are discussing something when someone cries out.

It was from a woman with tied back greying hair, running towards the group with a worrisome look in her exhausted eyes.

“Excuse me, but I need to talk to my children”

Oh, that must be Hawke’s mother. He’s only heard nice things about her whenever Hawke opens up about his family.

He sees him and Carver walk over to the lady and he’s too far to overhear.

Some sort of disagreement starts and Carver is yelling and Hawke and their mother try to subdue him. There’s a lot of head shaking and hand waving. At last, Carver appears to accept whatever was that was said. Hawke walks away and his brother and mother stay where they stood.

Hawke walks over to his groups of friends looking lost in thought. A moment passes and then with both hands he waves over the group to come over.

“What happened?” Merrill asks.

“Nothing,” Hawke sighs. “Mother just wanted Carver to stay. He…..eventually agreed.”

“Now what?” Fenris crosses his arms, a knot between brows form.

“We have to decide who I am bringing on this expedition.” Hawke sighs once more. He takes in a good look at his companions and bobs his head side to side as if he’s rolling die to choose who he’ll bring.

“Alright! Besides Varric, I shall bring Anders and Valentine. Do you two agree?”

Fuck no.

“Of course, Hawke,” Anders instead says. It was inevitable.

“Sure,” Valentine nods with a small smile upon her lips.

“The rest of you can go about your business. We’ll be gone for a while in the meantime.”

Some murmurs of “alright,” “be careful,” and “see you soon,” were heard before the others left their separate ways.

Anders watches Hawke go back to the dwarven brothers, no doubt to wrap up a few things before they head out.

“So you were a grey warden, correct?” It was Valentine.

“Yes, I was.” She really was quite short. She was a whole head short of him, couldn’t look like she could put her head on his shoulder if she wanted.

“That’s a lifelong joining, isn’t it? I imagine they’re not happy having you…..displaced.”

That got a chuckle out of him.

“Yes, you could say that.”

“That’s too bad,” she kicks a pebble with the tip of her boot, her eyes looking into the sky and nowhere in particular. “I’m sure they’re doing fine without you. You have more important things like spelunking with us losers in demon infested caves.”

That got him to laugh out loud.

“Well when you put it like that, I’m even more grateful I left the wardens.”

When she laughs, she laughs with her being. She bends forward with her arms wrapped around her abdomen as if she was a tree swaying in the wind.

She’s kinda cute, isn’t she?

I do not see what this has to do with the task at hand.

Relax. It’s just an observation.

*******

I am in a country called Ferelden. I have never heard of this place before. Is that old English or whatever the fuck? I don’t know, my head hurts and I’m tired from all the travel.

It took me days by foot, but I eventually reached a small village called Draycott. I asked around for a place to stay and work. And luckily I did. Their innkeeper/pub owner was looking for someone to help clean and keep order in their establishment. He seemed like enough of a nice guy to trust for now. Everything is ancient. There is no electricity or indoor plumbing. Everyone uses candles, gets water from the well, and shits in a pot. I’m afraid to ask why that is.

I am currently writing in my journal in a room of my own by candle light in the late evening. I’m even using a quill and ink. It’s much harder than I thought. Hope I can read this later.

This place is so much more strange than I first thought.

This country and land is certainly beautiful. I believe it's either mid to late spring to early fall. Grass is long, the hills roll, mountains are tall, and the trees high.

But then I noticed the plant and wildlife. I have never seen these herbs or flowers or whatever the hell they are. They look like something out of a story book. And the animals. I’ve seen wolves and bears from a distance. Luckily, I haven't bothered them enough to attack me.

But then I noticed a crow. It had such a large beak with ruffled feathers and splashes of red?

And spiders. The most gigantic ones I have ever seen. They look like the size of horses! What the fuck??

I must’ve been hallucinating. I should get some rest. The people here like to wake at daybreak.

Farmers are insane.

*******

They have been in the deep roads for a few days.

It’s as claustrophobic and dark and all things awful as Anders last remembers.

He wished the warden commander was here. She must be so warm and cozy now being the queen of Ferelden.

And Pounce. His little mews and purrs was what really kept him going.

Well, that and screwing around with Nathaniel was also fun. He had the best expressions.

The company he has now however wasn't too bad. They certainly made an entertaining crowd.

“Garrett, if you had to choose, would you rather eat your shirt or your trousers?”

The echoes of Hawke’s belly laugh lasts almost a minute as they trek along. He had to hold on to his staff to keep himself upright. It was quite contagious and made himself, Varric, and Valentine laugh along with him.

“Maker Val, I knew I wouldn’t regret bringing you. I think I would eat my shirt. My shirt in particular today looks rather tasty.”

“I swear no one wants to eat their pants, it’s always the shirt.”

“Who the hell wants to eat their pants?” Varric raises a brow.

“I don't know, but I’m waiting for someone to tell me.”

Without daylight, it’s impossible to tell when it's dawn or near dusk. After crossing corridors and making quick work of darkspawn that lurked, they all agreed to make camp and rest.

Spare food and drink are brought out, bringing out better spirits for the exhausted party. Bottles of wine and flasks of water. Wrapped packs of dried fruit, meat, and nuts.

Words start spilling and conversations follow.

It never ceases to amaze Anders how well Hawke carries himself in social situations. He held a poise like a noble yet spoke like a child raised by pirates. Held confidence in his chest and said things like “Anders, can you help me get my hand out of this jar?”

He was like an affectionate pet.

“Val,” Hawke said. He sat next to Varric while Anders and Valentine sat opposite them. “Did you know that our friend Anders runs a clinic in Darktown?”

Valentine laughs.

“That’s very all of a sudden, Garrett. That would make you a healer, yes?” She looks at Anders now.

“That’s right,” he smiles back for politeness. “I just try to help the sick as much as I can.”

“That’s incredibly thoughtful of you. You must make decent coin as well.”

“Oh, I don’t charge.” Valentine nearly spits out as she drinks from a water flask.

“You don't?” Her eyes wide and brows raised. “That’s insane. How do you get by?”

“I get by by getting by. Also being dragged around by Hawke helps.”

“And you are incredibly welcomed!” Hawke laughs, so does Varric, Valentine, and Anders.

The group would soon pack their things and move on.

*******

NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE GIANT SPIDERS ARE REAL I HATE WHERE EVER THE FUCK I AM AT

ANYWAYS....

Life in the village is peaceful. I can’t complain.

Yeah sure, the food could be better and I have to shit in a pot but overall, I like it.

Not shaving is a big plus for me.

I’ve made the mistake of asking too many questions. Some of the things I don't know are common knowledge, causing people to look at me weird. Someone even asked if I had brain damage.

And then I realized having amnesia is a great excuse. Everyone now believes I have suffered such an injury. That’s my life now.

The innkeeper offered me a position to keep his rooms cleaned and naturally, I accepted. He also asked me to watch and possibly teach his young daughter to read and write along with watching her.

She is the dearest thing I’ve seen in a long time.

Her name is Wenona. She is nearly four years of age, has light brown hair that is always braided, has a freckled face, and wears homemade dresses.

She is mute. I have never heard her talk or make any noise. Her father says she’s only shy, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she was on the spectrum. She is nice nonetheless and gestures when she wants something like food. I speak to her with simple words but not any different than to the others i have spoken here in the village. She understands me just fine.

We have so far spent days outdoors, picking herbs and flowers and laying in the grass and staring at the clouds. Indoors I help her learn how to write, have tea parties, and cook and bake . I read to her every night before bed and sometimes I sing to her.

I’ve also realized that this girl has no friends. I’ve seen a few other children here, but they never go up to here to talk or play. I asked her myself and she nodded. I told her that she was my friend and the look in her eyes…..

Learning about the world through her is an amazing experience too.

They have a religion here called Andrastanism. It sounds similar to Christianity, but instead of God, they have a maker and instead of a son, the maker has a bride named Andraste. I’ve read their biblical stories to Wenona.

I still have so much to learn.

****

#i honestly dont know if my writing is good anymore #but thats not gonna stop me from being self indulgent af #hopefully ill finish this in the future #anders is a cutie fight me #my writing #anders x valentine #anders #valentine volk #da #da2

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abbeyfangirl · 5 years ago

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dragon age: all characters (companions)

I’ve been in this fandom for a hot minute now and I want to update my opinions on characters :)

Origins

Alistair: super sweet dude who literally is not the stereotypicalchantryguyfightme. He’s a great example of healthy masculinity and I totally wish he was bi because I have an entire essay on that— also: he’s a poc! His mum was brown. In game he’s got dark features. if you really want a blond/blue-eyes/white guy, make your warden that. or accept that brown people can be noble and moral. or just draw cailan, idk. just because BioWare whitewashes doesn’t mean you should.

Leliana: someone hug my singing girlfriend before I crush her under with my own hugs. Also: nugs. Yes! Shoes. Yes! She likes how I style my hair? YES!! I honestly think she’s super duper and it pisses me off whenever someone’s like: yeah she enjoys killing people and the Game. ok. and michel de chevin willingly participated in genocidal marches through the alienage he grew up in with his elvhen mum.

Morrigan: dirty swamp witch that i stan and also have a v big crush on. tiddies. Have a son with a GW so we can raise him with our tiddies out in the forest. she’s also white-passing, as her father was chasind and all people we’ve seen that are chasind are black. therefore, she is biracial. therefore, poc can be goths and don’t shy away from giving morrigan a darker skintone. if the devs had of been thinking, she’d have a darker skintone.

Zevran: Actually is the best romance, I think. Loves consent, therefore I will stan him so hard my skull cracks a little. Also: he is a very brown boy and if he’s white in da4 I’m seriously going to throw all canon out the fucking window. genuinely a good person who needs to be told so.

Wynne: grandma who only likes my friends who go to church. but also super sweet and I’d rest my head on her bosom (in a platonic way omg ZEVRAN)

Sten: angry quiet boi. the bestest boi. I totally would give him a kitten for a gift and bake him cookies. Thicc softie. I think if I had DA:O and i knew how to use mods i would mod the fuck outta him. sorry.

Sha(y)le: who’s gender? idk her. See also: fuck birds and authority. pound ur ass into the ground you feathery meatbag little shits. fuck songbirds.

Dog: such a good boi. thicc. thinks Alistair is a whiny fuck and is Morrigan’s only friend. love him. he’s the cutest companion. bet.

Ohgren: honestly forgot about him bcc he’s such a shitbag. also: he could’ve been a really cool addiction recovery type but NOPE. probably would have a trump shirt in a modern au and would catcall wlw and hit mlm. no thanks.

Awakening

Anders: he acts like rlly straight but he’s so gay I can smell it. also he’s rlly cute and fun and I love him so much.

Justice: MAYBE i’M selF CONSCious OF THE twitchING. is the friend that genuinely doesn’t get dick jokes but is ur 110% ride or die.

Nathaniel Howe: honestly is sort of a white knight/neck beard a little, but it’s kind of charming with his whole velanna m’lady?? grump boi. annoying soul patch that I’d mod out SO FAST—

Sigrun: would have ROMANCED the FUCK out of her. why she even entertains the idea of fucking with ohgren makes me realize most of the writers are dumbfucks.png. peppy little emo. 12/10 would die if she kissed my cheek teasingly.

Ohgren: why. why. why. I’d have brought Shayle over. Maybe Zev? Definitely Dog.

Velanna: she was written to be an annoying feminist and you can tell but I deadass am a kindred spirit with her bcc I too am deadpan annoyed with Thedas’ general population too. love her. Would’ve loved to romance her. She’d totally be one of those who’d get all tsundere and be like “n-no i hate you” *kisses the fuckin soul out of you then blushes so hard she’s now a tomato*

Dragon Age II

Anders: fuck the cops. i don’t care. fuck the cops. (vine reference). also: do i hate him for blowing up the chantry that would eventually annul a huge collection of his people? no. read dalishious’s meta on Anders. v intriguing. didn’t they retcon the fuck out of the reported deaths too? like there was like eight Templars and Elthinia in there. Templars killed more “abominations” in a day than Anders in the game canon—

Aveline: initially thought she was fine and then realized she’s shit to my lil brother and I will fucking clap her ginger ass. See also: whorephobia isn’t a joke so fuck off with treating Isabela badly, you tit.

Bethany: sunshine. Literal sunshine. I feel my freckles grow in her presence and i love it. she’s my little baby sister and I’d slam that ogre so fuckin hard before it touched either twin.

Carver: there has to be a mod where both twins survive. I love them both to bits. My babies. carver is my bitter, angry little brother and I can relate because I too am very angry and would totally clap my own ass. hes so genuine and I don’t get the competition between Beth and Carver. Like, both are fuckin stellar in different ways. In this essay I will—

Fenris: honestly, I don’t get the general hate between him and Anders. Fenris’ main arc should’ve been a recovery arc, not drunken moping and revenge. he deserves better. give him a soft sweater instead of his spikes and let him love himself as much as I love him for MAKERS SAKE. like when you really think about their relationship, it could’ve been an eye-opener for fenris and finally some legit sympathy for anders. but we all know that if they had of teamed up that Meredith would’ve been dead before the end of Act 1 so.

Isabela: whorephobia is not a joke. oversexualizing your only appearing brown woman is so poorly written. how about we appreciate her and her lovely bosoms but also let people tease her about her heart of gold? her innate understanding of freedom? instead of just a wave of dick? please?? can we give her some pants for when she fights? can we accept that i fall for rogues who hate themselves?? fuck. also whomever draws her x femHawke x Merrill literally is after my own heart.

Merrill: my fucking babygirl MARRY ME. Fenris could’ve been her older brother type, but NO. she and Isabela should’ve been canonical gfs instead of Isabela/Fenris (no shaming the pairing tho!!). I love how she’s written as neurodivergent. V nice. Sometimes I just look her up and cry because she’s fucking everything. Also: she’s in the Dalish origin and she’s far from being white. Why did they make the most innocent/naïve character really white? hmmmm.

Sebastian: whew that boy. Would totally be that annoying Mormon at your door but you still let him in bcc he’s super sweet. Also: huge ass bible thumper and should get his head slap because you said the maker loved all his children why do you defend a complicit old hag you annoying attractive fuck—

Varric: totally is a bard and the devs couldn’t handle the idea of him being one bcc it might make him look less straight. is the only grey morality person I don’t want to fucking bash in with a fry pan. he sees people and I like that, but you totally know he’s siding with mages every time bcc him and Anders are like besties. I’m sorry. I don’t make the rules. “Professional Younger Brother”.

Tallis: I know nothing about her but she seems okay. I think she was an escaped slave and honestly? Fucking props. Spy on a shitting organization, idk what you’re doing, but your VA was that cool lesbian from SPN so I think ur okay?

Inquisition

Blackwall: Redemption Arc 101. Love him to bits. Sad dad bunwall. good man. actually atoned for his sins by actively becoming a good person. his initial design is 80% hotter im so sorry but so not.

Cassandra: was way browner in the last game. would romance the fuck outta her. I love me a butch lady who melts at my dorky recitation of poetry. BioWare is a coward. also is the worst choice for divine. but not a bad person. could use some more guidance or get her ass whipped by a dalish elf about religion or a circle mage kid whos like “yeah bud i didn’t ask for the templars to whip my ass everyday for existing.”

The Iron Bull: I think the Qunari/Vashoth were a little based off black people (the whole anti blackness thing where ppl are scared of them bcc of whatever reason) and it pisses me off that he had a weird ass dubcon thing with Dorian in banter. It doesn’t make sense— he’s an A+++ dom and would not jump straight in role play without at least checking in at first like wtf BioWare.

Cole: his mother was chasind so he’s like not supposed to be that white? or like biracial? albino? idk. love him to bits tho. He’s neurodivergent and I deadass love him. romancing him? idk. I see why ppl think it’s fuckin nasty but also like as a writer I’d age him the fuck up so fast before my inquisitor even THOUGHT about that. like idk. I’m down with him being a sweet little bro character tho. he’s a babe. love him.

Sera: had the worst fucking writer I’ve ever seen and I willingly read the twilight saga twice by a shit ass racist white lady who okay’d pedophilia. like. Fuck you Kristjanson suck your own dick you fuck. had the worst options in regards to speak to her. has a thicc case of internalized racism that literally most of the fandom just loves to use against her. my lesbian neurodivergent queen. Would write a thousand fix it fics for her. Love her to bits. im gay.

Varric: I haven’t played DA2 so i don’t get why everyone wants to romance him but like. a dwarf romance? yes please. Idk he reminds me of my uncle so I only see him as fun uncle material. Deadass should adopt Cole and Merrill and co parent with Blackwall for Sera. dads? fuck yeah. love me some wholesome, present fathers.

Dorian: is a gay stereotype that I love/hate so much. and he’s also just as bad about being a creep bcc he sexualizes qunari men (in banter). I attribute that to shit writing tho. I want to protect him from all the “omg gay best friend!” people. he’d clearly be that tired gay that wouldn’t give a diddly damn about ur het romance. wanna talk about politics? he’s ur guy/gay.

Solas: “me, an intellectual:”. I don’t hate him, but I’m not about him. He comes off as mysterious and suave (which he totally is) but I deadass would not save him from himself because he’s a racist, exclusionist eggshell. idk. not my cup of tea, but I can totally see the appeal. And he’s interesting, I’ll totally say that. “I think the Dalish are garbage but they made you” is not a compliment. it’s so offensive. and such bait for “quirky girls” which I’m no fan of. Would be Achilles and let Patroclus (Lavellan in his case) die before he realized how his pride is literally a waste of time. If he gets a redemption arc I hope Lavellan gets to slap him before getting him to teach all about ancient Arlathan and show that the Evanuris weren’t all total dicknozzles. (Aka I really have a hard time believing that they’d be slavery cult things. especially since they’ve compared elves to indigenous ppl, Jews and the Romani.)

Vivienne: it’s so racist that they’d make a black woman be pro-slavery. That’s such internalized racism. She could’ve been the cool ass “educate yourself first before you speak, fool” ice lady, but NO. the devs could’ve kept the “Templars are a tool that I proudly can mandate” and the “circles are very good education” and we. Could. Have. Romanced. Her. Like. Fuck. Sake. I just wanna give her a hug and say “love yourself omg!!” and not even in a romantic way. Also: she and morrigan should not have been so antagonistic towards each other. I’d expect them to have great respect for each other, as they both moved up in the world through hardwork and very little help. They could learn different magic from each other too and still maintain that rival respect “oh you” mood. Sidenote: probably the cooler option for Divine. if her approval is high enough she’ll love and be loyal to you forever and i can’t see her agenda being bad. she improves the circles exponentially and tells all the antis to suck her pretty painted toes.

Josephine: an actual disney princess. romanced her my first playthrough. I love her so much. she just makes me so happy. And she’s like: “Integrity, Loyalty, peace. That is what it means to be a GREY WARDEN good fucking person.” she’s the person who would let you hold her hand if you got anxious and she’d be that person who shouldered the whole group project with finesse and poise and would probably lie for everyone as to not be mean. i love josie. her and leliana’s relationship is so cute, too. whether it’s romantic or not: women supporting women.

Leliana: if you leave her hardened you must hate her. why. she becomes so against herself. i like how shes feminine and lighthearted because that’s so powerful-- to remain hopeful when the world is hopeless. (its hard to know when to soften her/harden her so i get it but. google it. she deserves to be happy and sweet again.)

Cullen: uwu war criminal with shit ass “redemption arc” that was actually a half-assed (at BEST) recovery arc. Recovery isn’t linear, it isn’t pretty, and even the broken need to be told they are wrong in order to heal right. Like I’m offended by that bullshit. I’ve had to do some mental health recovery in the past and unlearning lots of toxic ideologies— which I’m still unlearning— and it bothers me that he gets an easy pass because he’s hot. It’s one thing if you like Cullen, it’s another thing if you hold him accountable.

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pikapeppa · 5 years ago

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Fenris/f!Hawke and the Inquisition: Good Intentions

Chapter 31 of Lovers In A Dangerous Time (i.e. Fenris the Inquisitor) is up on AO3!

The crew heads to frosty Emprise du Lion this week, and I asked my darling @lethendralis-paints do a BEAUTIFUL little painting of FenRynne staying warm, so I simply had to post the art and the chapter together!

Read on AO3 instead; ~9000 words.

Hawke shivered and rubbed her arms. “You know, I think I’ve been spoiled by Skyhold. It’s all lovely and warm there with the elven magic and all. It’s made me go soft.”

Fenris glanced at her as they picked their way through the destroyed village on the way to Suledin Keep. She did look exceptionally cold.

“Would you care for my cloak?” he said.

She batted her eyelashes at him. “So chivalrous, you are,” she purred. “But no. I’ll just keep complaining. This way I’ll distract everyone else from how cold they are.”

Varric chuckled. “Thanks, Hawke. That’s really helpful.”

“That’s me,” she chirped. “Always being as useful as possible.” She elbowed Dorian, who was trudging through the snow beside her. “How are you holding up, northern boy? Maybe you need Fenris’s cloak.”

“I would, if his cloak wasn’t such a marvelously mundane shade of murky green,” Dorian said. He shot Fenris a mocking pout. “What happened to your black one? It suited you far better. It would have suited me far better.”

Fenris didn’t bother to look at him. “This one is warmer. I prefer to choose my clothes for—”

“— function over form and so on, I know. More’s the pity.” Dorian shot him a sly look. “You know, if you had something tailored, it could be both attractive and functional…”

Fenris shot him a flat look. “Dorian. I don’t need tailoring. In fact, nobody needs tailoring.”

Dorian laughed. “Tell that to Josephine the next time you have to go to an Orlesian function.”

Fenris gave Hawke a long-suffering look. “I thought this conversation about clothing and tailors would end with the wedding.”

“Apparently not,” she said cheerfully. “For what it’s worth, I think you look handsome in everything.”

Her smile was wide and wicked, and Fenris shot her a forbidding look. He knew exactly what she was about to say next. “Don’t,” he warned.

Heedless of his warning, she sidled up to him leaned in close to his ear. “I also think you look even more handsome in nothing at all,” she murmured.

He huffed and shook his head. “You are shameless.”

“Of course I am,” she said. She twined her fingers with his. “Lucky for me that skin-to-skin contact is the best way to stay warm.”

Fenris shot her a chiding look. Her voice was quiet, but to her left, Dorian was smirking. “Later, Hawke,” he muttered.

She chuckled. “I hope that’s a promise,” she whispered. She released him and strolled over to Blackwall instead. “Blackwall, are you all right? You’ve been terribly quiet since we raided the quarry.”

He gave her a small smile. “I’m just fine.”

She looped her hand through his elbow. “Come now, I don’t buy that. You look like someone stole your favourite puppy.”

He sighed. “I suppose I’ve just been thinking—”

“You? Thinking?” Dorian said archly. “Quick, someone send a raven to Skyhold so Maryden can write a ballad in honour of the occasion.”

Blackwall shot Dorian a venomous look, and Fenris and Varric exchanged a quick glance. Blackwall and Dorian had been sniping at each other on and off the whole time they’d been in Emprise du Lion. Fenris was growing rather weary of it, but he was biting his tongue, especially after Varric had pointed out — to Fenris’s chagrin — that he and Anders had carried on far worse during their seven years in Kirkwall.

Hawke, on the other hand, had spent the trip trying to smooth things over with flirting and jokes. She seemed to have reached the end of her rope today, however. “All right, all right, you’re both manly men with giant weapons and beautiful facial hair,” she snapped. “Now please shut up.” She turned pointedly to Blackwall again. “Thinking about what?”

“About the Templars, I suppose,” he said. “And the Grey Wardens. They were all just trying to do the right thing, and Corypheus used their morals against them.”

She grimaced. “I know. It’s a rather shit deal, isn’t it?” She patted his arm comfortingly. “We’ll stop Coryfish, though. He’ll get his comeuppance sooner than later.”

He shook his head sadly. “You make it sound easy. But how many more people will die before Corypheus does? How many more good people will be corrupted before we stop him?” He sighed. “It’s not right. To want to do good, to be good, and have that turned against you.”

They were all quiet for a moment. Then Varric chuckled. “Damn, hero. You’ve been having a real existential crisis over there, haven’t you?”

Hawke shot him a quick grin, then turned back to Blackwall. “You’re right. It sucks to try and do the right thing and have it blow up in your face. But what else can you do?” She shrugged. “You’ve got to trust your gut, right? Keep on moving forward. What other choice is there?”

“But how do you know you can trust your gut?” Blackwall asked. “Warden-Commander Clarel’s intentions were righteous. Her desire to protect was so great it led her astray. How do you know if your intentions are guiding you down the right path?” He looked askance at Fenris. “You’ve brought us this far. Everything you’ve done has led us to victory. How did you know that everything would go well?”

Fenris wearily rubbed his hair through his hood. He knew it shouldn’t surprise him that people thought he actually had a plan for taking Corypheus down, or that he was always in control of everything that happened. This was the way of so-called ‘heroes’, after all; most people never saw the uncertainty and the terrible choices and the sheer dumb fortune — or lack thereof — that conspired to result in any given outcome. It had been the same with Hawke back in Kirkwall; she won one duel with the Arishok, a terrible duel in which she’d almost died, and suddenly she had the reputation of being the only person who could keep the entire city safe.

A reputation that had nearly gotten her killed.

He looked at Blackwall. “I didn’t know that everything would go well,” he said bluntly. In his opinion, everything hadn’t gone well since the Inquisition had begun; they’d lost people at Haven, and they had lost many soldiers at Adamant, and he had left Carver behind in the Fade. “No one can know for certain that their course of action is right. It is as Hawke said; you must trust your instincts. And the instincts of the people you trust,” he added, with a glance at Hawke. “And you must move forward.”

A memory of Carver’s determined face flashed across his mind. He breathed through the guilt, then looked at Blackwall again. “There is no point sitting stagnant in the regrets of what might have been if you’d made another choice. There is only forward,” he said.

Blackwall’s expression was attentive but melancholy, and Fenris felt another little writhing of guilt in his gut. He’d ultimately told Stroud and the Wardens to remain at Weisshaupt until Corypheus was eliminated, and he knew Blackwall wasn’t pleased about the decision. Fenris had initially considered telling only the Warden mages to remain at Weisshaupt, but Hawke had immediately argued the idea, saying it was barely a step away from imprisoning them in a Circle and that it would send a terrible message about mages in general to the rest of Thedas. So Fenris had reluctantly agreed to isolate all the Wardens to Weisshaupt until further notice.

It was a decision that Fenris was still not entirely comfortable with, particularly given the darkspawn presence that Harding had reported in the Storm Coast. But Fenris didn’t feel informed enough about the Warden’s secretive ways to be entirely comfortable with their joining the Inquisition, so this seemed the more prudent option for now.

Hawke squeezed Blackwall’s arm. “Come on, Blackwall, you don’t need to worry. You’re one of the good ones. If you weren’t, Fenris would kick you out of Skyhold in a heartbeat.”

Blackwall heaved a heavy sigh, then nodded. “I hope so, my lady.” He winced and pulled a copper out his pocket, then handed it to her. “Sorry, Hawke.”

She smiled and pocketed the coin. “No harm done.”

Fenris looked at them in surprise. “What was that for?”

“Blackwall is giving me a copper every time he calls me ‘my lady’,” she said.

Fenris raised an eyebrow. “Dare I ask why?”

She rolled her eyes. “Because I’m not a fucking lady, obviously.” She smiled cheekily at Blackwall. “We’re breaking a bad habit one copper at a time.”

“I dunno, Hawke,” Varric said. “You did get the Amell name restored, so I think technically—”

She groaned. “That was in Kirkwall. We’re not in Kirkwall anymore.”

“Yeah,” Varric said. “That’s true.”

She shot him a guilty look, then slung an arm around his neck. “Don’t you get mopey on me now. When Corytits is dead, maybe we can all go back to Kirkwall for a bit.”

He looked at her and Fenris in surprise. “You’d come back to Kirkwall? Seriously?”

Hawke and Fenris exchanged a nonplussed look. They’d somehow never discussed settling in Kirkwall when this war was over. In truth, Fenris had a hard time imagining them returning to a life in Kirkwall after everything that had happened there.

“I… don’t know. Maybe?” Hawke said. She pulled a face at Fenris.

He shrugged. “Perhaps. For a visit, at least.”

“Mm. Yeah, a visit would be nice,” Varric said. He rubbed his nose.

Hawke’s face crumpled, and she hugged Varric more tightly around the neck. “Oh, Varric, stop it,” she begged. “You’re going to make me cry.”

He cleared his throat and patted her arm. “Ah, come on, Hawke, don’t do that. Your tears will freeze on your face.”

She gave a shaky little laugh and kissed the top of his head, and Fenris watched them with an ache behind his sternum. He felt rather stupid now for not realizing that Varric had probably missed them — especially Hawke — during their two years in hiding. Hawke wasn’t the only one who considered their Kirkwall group to be family, after all.

Varric looked up and met his eye, and Fenris grimaced and shrugged helplessly, uncertain what to say. They continued their trek toward Suledin Keep in an increasingly awkward silence.

Thankfully — or perhaps not so thankfully — Dorian broke the silence. “I’m sorry, but is no one going to protest the fact that Hawke is essentially robbing Blackwall of his coin?”

Blackwall raised his eyebrows. “Since when do you care about me getting robbed?”

“Since it means you have less coin for personal hygiene products, of course,” Dorian said disdainfully. He shot Hawke a pleading look. “At least use some of that coin to buy him some soap. Consider this a heartfelt plea.”

Blackwall grunted. “You know, some of us have better things to do than spend hours preening in front of the mirror like pompous prats.”

“That’s true,” Dorian said. “Like rolling around in the stables with the other hairy beasts. That is what you’ve been doing, yes? That’s certainly what it smells like.”

Blackwall scowled, but Hawke turned to Dorian before Blackwall could reply. “I didn’t hear you complaining about bodily smells when you were talking to Bull the other day.”

For a split second, Dorian’s eyes went wide — tellingly wide. Then he flicked some snow from his collar. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Hawke cackled and skipped over to him. “You know exactly what I mean. And if you didn’t want anyone to know about you and Bull, maybe you shouldn’t have been talking about it so loudly right in the middle of the courtyard.”

“Wait,” Blackwall said. He stared at Dorian. “You and Bull are canoodling?”

Dorian wrinkled his nose. “Canoodling? Oh, my. I didn’t realize you were a prissy octogenarian. Shall we buy you a cane during the next trip to Val Royeaux?”

Blackwall grunted, but Varric grinned. “I don’t hear a denial there, Sparkler.”

Hawke snickered and elbowed Dorian. “Me neither.”

“Vishante kaffas,” Dorian muttered. He shot them a resentful look. “For such a large castle, there’s certainly no privacy to be had at Skyhold.”

Hawke tutted and linked her arm with Dorian’s. “Oh come now, Dorian, we gossip about everyone. Why should you be exempt?”

“My dear Hawke, we gossip in private,” Dorian retorted. “If we’re talking publicly about everyone’s sex lives, let’s talk about yours and Fenris’s.”

“No,” Fenris said loudly.

Hawke tutted again. “Fine, fine. You’ll dish in private, then? Later?” She gazed imploringly at Dorian.

He rolled his eyes. “You really are an intractable pervert. I don’t know how Fenris copes with you.” He gave her a mocking look. “Should I draw diagrams for you? Would that be sufficiently entertaining?”

“Ooh, yes,” she said with relish. “I’ve been looking for some good reading material. I’ve run out of Randy Dowagers to read.”

“If you’re looking for something smutty, you can always ask Cassandra,” Varric said. “Maybe she’ll lend you the chapters I wrote her if you ask her really nicely.”

Hawke whipped around to look at him with wide eyes. “You wrote smut? Already? Aren’t you only about three chapters in?”

“Five, actually,” Varric said. “I found some time before we left Skyhold.”

Hawke whistled and released Dorian’s arm. “Good on you. All right, you’ve got my attention. Tell me more.”

Varric and Hawke sank into a discussion of Varric’s writing, and Dorian breathed a soft sigh of relief. He and Fenris walked side-by-side in silence for some time.

“Is it serious?” Fenris said quietly.

Dorian groaned. “Oh, not you too. You’re as bad as your wife.”

Fenris shrugged. “Fair enough.” He said nothing more.

A minute later, Dorian spoke again, very quietly. “I don’t know what it is. It’s only happened twice.” There was a brief, pregnant pause. “All right, fine, three times.”

Fenris nodded an acknowledgment. “Are you happy when you’re together?”

Dorian shot Fenris an odd look, almost as though Fenris was trying to trick him. Then he scoffed. “I can just imagine the stories everyone will tell. The evil Vint magister and the big boorish qunari taking over Thedas one sordid sexcapade at a time. The rumours will be worse than the ones they were making up about you and me.”

It didn’t escape Fenris’s notice that Dorian hadn’t answered his question. “They don’t know you. Ignorant tongues speak nothing of value,” he told Dorian. “You know that.” He thought of Hawke and the way she’d always defiantly faced down anyone who disdained her for mating with a knife-ear.

“Ah, Fenris. So innocent about the weight of a good rumour,” Dorian said playfully. “Or a bad rumour, I should say. I do enjoy your naiveté in this, it’s one of your most endearing traits.”

Fenris narrowed his eyes. “Do not mistake my words for naiveté. I know whose opinion matters and whose doesn’t. Do you?”

Dorian raised an eyebrow, then looked away. They walked in silence for another minute. Then Dorian shrugged and smirked. “Maybe I am happy. Or maybe I’m entirely mad. Happiness and madness can be so difficult to distinguish, can’t they? They’re both accompanied by such a lovely little state of euphoria.”

He was deflecting, exactly as Hawke did when she was disturbed by something. Fenris glanced at him, then reluctantly switched to Tevene. “It is difficult,” he said. “Liking someone that you thought you should hate on principle.”

Dorian raised his eyebrows at the language change, then chuckled. “Charming though these overtures may be, you don’t have to butter me up. We’re already friends.”

Fenris gave him a serious look. Finally, at long last, Dorian’s shit-eating smile slowly faded.

“You don’t think this is just a foolish lark, then?” he said. “Dorian Pavus going off and pulling another shameless act of debauchery?”

Fenris gazed at him in exasperation. “When have I ever accused you of debauchery? Arrogance, perhaps. Being smug, perhaps. Having overly coiffed hair—”

“I knew you liked something about me,” Dorian quipped.

Fenris ignored him. “Do you think it’s a foolish lark?”

“I don’t know,” Dorian snapped. He took a deep breath and started twisting one of his gold rings around his finger. “I… I don’t know. Maybe it’s not a lark. I haven’t… been with anyone since leaving home.”

Fenris shrugged. “For that reason alone, perhaps it is a good thing. A way to break from the chains that Tevinter society placed on you.”

They walked quietly for another minute. Then Fenris spoke again, this time in the common tongue. “I hope you can trust him. He is still a qunari spy.”

“Fasta vass. I knew you didn’t approve,” Dorian complained.

Fenris frowned. “That is not what I said. And why do you care if I approve?”

Dorian stared at him in exasperation. “Do you even listen to a word out of your own perfectly pouty mouth?” He put on a mocking baritone voice. “‘Rely on the instincts of the people you trust. Know whose opinion matters.’ And then you go and ask why I care what you think.” He snorted and continued to fight his way through the knee-deep snow.

Fenris doggedly strode through the snow beside him. “You want my opinion.”

“And finally the Inquisitor catches on,” Dorian said waspishly.

Fenris bit back his irritation. “My opinion is this. You should trust your own instincts. I am not your father,” he said severely. “I am not going to place judgement on whom you lie with. Just be careful.”

Dorian pressed his lips together and didn’t speak. After a moment of tense silence, he sighed. “Thank you. I… I appreciate your concern. Truly.”

Fenris shrugged and didn’t look at him. “Thank me by not drawing diagrams for Hawke. I do not want to see them tacked on the wall of our bedroom.”

Dorian grinned at him. “And why would she tack them on the wall of your bedroom, pray tell? Inspiration, perhaps?” He gasped playfully. “Are we about to gossip about your sex life after all?”

Fenris snorted in disgust. “I regret saying anything.” He turned on his heel and started to return to Hawke and Varric.

“We’ll pick up this discussion later, then!” Dorian called after him. “Perhaps over tea and those little frilly cakes that Solas is so partial to.”

Fenris ignored him. A moment later, however, the distinctive sounds of clashing swords reached his ears, followed by the distinctive roar of a rage demon.

He whipped around to look. Suledin Keep was less than a hundred paces away, and a lone blond figure was valiantly fighting two red Templars and a handful of demons.

“Shit,” Hawke said.

“That’s the chevalier guy,” Varric said. “Michel.”

“Let’s move,” Fenris snapped, and they bolted toward the entry to the Keep.

A few minutes later, the red Templars were dead and the demons were scattered to the wind, and Fenris and their party were catching their breath along with the lone chevalier.

“Herald,” he said. He bowed quickly to Fenris. “Your efforts at the quarry have not gone unnoticed. The demon Imshael sent a pack of shades to Sahrnia. I must go back and defend the villagers. Please, destroy Imshael before he escapes.” Without waiting for a response, Michel sheathed his sword and bolted away – but not before doing a quizzical double-take at Blackwall.

Hawke raised an eyebrow at Michel’s departing back, then turned to Blackwall. “That was odd. Do you know him?”

“No,” Blackwall said brusquely. He nodded toward the Keep. “Let’s stop this demon.”

Fenris nodded agreement, and they began to make their way carefully through Suledin Keep. The fortress was enormous and the potential threat of enemy numbers was great, so they moved as silently as they could through the snow and stuck to corners and shadows to retain the element of surprise.

The steady trickle of Templars they encountered were easy enough to ambush. But when they reached the cages containing the red lyrium-infested corpses of giants, they all took pause.

“Maker’s balls,” Hawke breathed. She peered into the cage. “Poor bastards.”

“Poor them?” Dorian said archly. “Poor us, I say, if these mad Templars managed to tweak their red lyrium recipe properly.” He grimaced as he studied the grisly corpses.

Varric, meanwhile, was standing some distance away from the cages. “Careful, Hawke,” he said tensely. “Don’t get too close to that stuff.”

“It’s all right, Varric,” she said soothingly. “We all have our charms from Dagna. We’re safe.”

“Not entirely safe,” Fenris reminded her. “It is still as toxic as regular lyrium.” He walked over to her and gently took her arm. “Come. Varric is right. We should move on.”

They moved away from the cages and through another snow-encrusted arch, and Dorian wilted in dismay. “Kaffas. Of course.”

Thirty paces away, a giant was stomping around and blocking the path ahead. Red crystals were sprouting from its shoulders and back, and there were three red Templars standing guard around it.

They crowded back against the wall out of sight. “Fuck,” Hawke muttered. “How did they tame it? I thought giants were really wild.”

“It’s a good question,” Dorian whispered. “You would think the red lyrium would render it wilder than usual.”

Fenris shook his head. “Red lyrium sickens them. That’s what all the notes we found have said. Sicken them slightly to make them more compliant, while also making them stronger…”

Blackwall furrowed his brow. “That makes no sense.”

“Since when does any of this shit make sense?” Varric muttered.

Fenris huffed in agreement. He could only hope the Inquisition’s mages would have more information on lyrium when they next returned to Skyhold. “In any case, we must move on.” He looked around at their little group. “We all know what to do.”

They murmured assent, and Fenris quickly squeezed Hawke’s hand before leading her quietly toward the giant by skirting the sides of the castle walls. Once they were all in position, Fenris nodded to Hawke and Dorian.

Two rings of flame erupted around the Templars and the giant, and the frozen air was rent with the sounds of anguished screams and angered roaring. The warm tingle of Hawke’s barrier settled over Fenris’s shoulders, and he bolted toward the Templars while Blackwall ran at the giant with a battle cry.

The red Templars were dispatched without too much fuss; their combat style was relatively predictable, especially after studying their strategies while decimating their operations in the quarry, and it was a simple enough matter for Fenris and Varric to kill the Templars without further magical help.

The giant, however, was another matter. After several long, gruelling minutes of combat, its flesh was crackling with burns and wet with blood from Fenris and Blackwall’s strikes, but it was still roaring and flailing its long arms as though it had hardly been harmed.

“Damn, it’s strong,” Varric panted. He loaded three more bolts into his crossbow and scowled up at the enormous creature. “What are we supposed to do?”

“Let’s hamstring it,” Blackwall shouted. “Get it on its knees, then bash its sorry head.”

“Try it,” Fenris yelled. It was as good a plan as any; sheer brute force was clearly not working.

Unfortunately, before they could enact the plan, the giant grabbed an enormous boulder and lifted it overhead, then turned toward Hawke and Blackwall with a roar.

Fenris’s stomach lurched in horror, and he bolted toward them. But just before the boulder came smashing down, Hawke thrust her hand toward the giant and clenched her fist.

The giant froze, entrapped in a cage of blazing white light. “Got you,” she hissed through clenched teeth. “Dorian, hamstring the fucking thing.”

Dorian swung his staff in a lashing motion, and a bladelike projectile of ice slashed through the backs of the giant’s thighs straight to the bone.

Hawke lowered her hand, breaking the cage of light, and the giant fell to its knees with a shriek of agony. With a roar of battle rage, Fenris slammed his blade into the beast’s skull.

He and Blackwall hacked at the giant’s head and neck until it finally fell facefirst into the snow with a thundering crash. For a moment, they stood in shocked silence catching their breath and staring at the giant’s bleeding body.

Fenris trudged over to Hawke’s side, then unstrapped a bottle of lyrium solution from her belt and removed the cap. He silently handed her the bottle, and she took it with a nod and drank it down.

She wiped her mouth and placed the empty bottle back on her belt, then smiled at him. “That was fun. Let’s never do that again, shall we?”

He managed a half-smile as he studied her face. Her lips were turning blue and her normally-golden skin was bleached from the cold, but she looked strong enough despite using her most mana-sapping spell.

He forced himself to breathe normally. “And you said we never go anywhere fun,” he drawled.

“I believe that was me,” Dorian put in. “And it’s true. You never bring me anywhere fun.” He adopted a mocking voice. “‘Oh, the coldest place in all of Thedas, where red lyrium crystals compete for territory with human-sized pillars of ice. You know who would adore such a place? Dorian.’” He disdainfully rearranged his dishevelled hair.

Fenris cast him an exasperated look as he helped Hawke to step over the giant’s body. “Do you want to come on these trips or not? It would not be difficult to leave you behind.”

“Wouldn’t that be a relief,” Blackwall said acidly.

Dorian shot them an affronted look. “What, and deprive you of my scintillating insights and intelligent badinage? Perish the thought.”

Varric chuckled weakly and patted Fenris’s elbow. “Come on, let’s get this party moving. This fortress doesn’t seem like it’s gonna clear itself, unfortunately.”

And so it was a weary party that continued the foray through the keep. They moved more cautiously than before, wary of conserving their energy and mana; Fenris was quite sure the showdown with the demon would be a significant trial, based on what Michel had told them back at Sahrnia when they’d first arrived in Emprise du Lion a few days ago.

Unfortunately, the path through the enormous keep only became more populated with enemies, including one more giant and a number of large demons. By the time they had nearly reached the top of the tower, all of them were bloodied — albeit healed thanks to Hawke — and Hawke was down to her last lyrium potion.

She blew out an angry breath and glared at the faintly steaming piles of ichor that had been a rage demon just a few minutes ago. “All right, I’ve had enough of this. Let’s kill this fucking Imshael thing already so I can find a hot bath.”

She was shivering, and Fenris wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or exhaustion. He unclipped his cloak and draped it around her shoulders.

She shook her head and tried to brush him off. “No, I don’t need it—”

“It hinders my movement,” Fenris said. It was only a small lie; it did hinder him a bit, but that hardly mattered when he was able to skate along the edge of the Fade with his lyrium tattoos. “Keep it for me.”

She frowned at him, then blew out a sharp breath. “All right. Fine. Let’s go, shall we?”

Fenris quashed a jolt of worry in his gut. If she was giving in so quickly, she must be more tired than she looked.

They moved toward the door, and Fenris surreptitiously took her hand. “Stay far back,” he murmured to her. “Be cautious, Hawke.”

“I know, I know,” she said. She squeezed his hand in turn. “No running in headfirst, I promise. I’ve got your back.”

He nodded and bit his tongue to stop himself from nagging her any further. Then Dorian appeared at her other side.

“My gift to you,” he said, and he offered her a bottle of lyrium.

She frowned and pushed it back at him. “Dorian, come off of it. You need that.”

“You’ve been doing all the healing, if you didn’t notice,” Dorian said. “Take the bottle, please. It’s not very tasty, I know, but I can guarantee the next one I give you will be full of brandy.”

She rolled her eyes and took the small bottle from him. “Well, when you put it that way, how can I refuse?”

Fenris met Dorian’s eyes and nodded his thanks, and Dorian smiled faintly at him before stepping forward and pushing open the enormous double doors to the tower.

The moment they stepped through the doors, a smug, smooth voice addressed them. “Ah, the hero arrives. Wearing the marks of the ancient warriors, no less. But is it hero, or murderer? It’s so hard to tell.”

The speaker was a man: a rather nondescript, middle-aged man wearing a fine black coat and fine black shoes with tidy silver buckles.

Fenris narrowed his eyes. Imshael may have taken the form of a man, but his taunts reminded Fenris all too clearly of the Nightmare.

“Demon,” he spat.

Imshael’s pleasant smile hardened. “Choice spirit,” he corrected.

Hawke snorted. “Spirit, demon… either way, you’re a complete asshole.” She pulled her staff from her back.

Imshael held up a finger. “Wait, wait!” he said. He looked at Fenris. “These are your friends? They’re very violent. It’s worrying.” He folded his hands behind his back. “True to my name, I will show you that you have a choice. It doesn’t always have to end in blood.”

“Not always, no,” Fenris said. “In this case, yes.” He unsheathed his greatsword.

Imshael’s smile twisted into a snarl. “Fine,” he said. “If you won’t be smart, be afraid.” He suddenly burst into a huge and hideous rage demon.

Hawke’s barrier fell over Fenris’s shoulders, and it was more comforting than any cloak. Three of Varric’s bolts struck the demon’s face in quick succession, and then Fenris and Blackwall were hacking at the demon’s body with all their strength.

As promised, Hawke stood back and maintained a steady barrier over all of them while they attacked the demon. Dorian coated the creature with ice, rendering it brittle for their sword and arrow strikes, and the poison from Varric’s arrows withered the demon’s lava-liked flesh.

Just when Fenris was sure that Imshael was beaten, he let out an unpleasant cackle of a laugh, then transformed into the largest demon of pride that they’d ever seen.

“Maker’s balls,” Blackwall swore. Then he and Fenris dodged away from the lashing of Imshael’s lightning-laced whips.

The fight continued for an improbably long time. Imshael continued taunting them and changing forms, and each form he took seemed to lose some portion of the damage they’d inflicted.

The demon backhanded Blackwall across the face, sending him sprawling to the ground, then laughed again. “Where’s that Michel, hmm? Afraid of another disastrous blunder, so he sends you to do his dirty work? A clever choice, that. Maybe I underestimated him… hah. I do amuse myself sometimes.” Imshael chuckled unpleasantly, then snarled as Fenris cleaved straight through his left leg.

“Vishante kaffas,” Fenris spat. “I’ll paint these stones with your vile blood, demon.”

“Choice. Spirit,” Imshael hissed. “Allow me offer you another one.” He phased across the ichor-and-ice-spattered ground, then grabbed Hawke by the throat and hauled her off her feet.

“Hawke!” Varric shouted.

“Release her!” Fenris roared. Hawke was gripping Imshael’s scaly arm for support, and Fenris’s heart was beating a panicked staccato in his ears.

“Gladly,” Imshael said. “If you give me the anchor on your hand.”

Imshael knew how to remove the mark? For an instant, the shock rendered Fenris breathless.

He took a step toward Hawke, then stopped when Imshael squeezed Hawke’s throat more tightly. “Ah-ah-ah. You have to make a choice. Either you give me the anchor, or she dies.”

Hawke was staring at him with wide eyes. Her face was going red, and her kicking was growing weaker.

“Fine,” Fenris blurted. “The anchor is yours. It is a curse. I never wanted it.”

Dorian and Blackwall exclaimed in surprise, and Imshael’s monstrous face twisted into a grin. “And the hero throws aside his purpose!” he crowed. “How disappointing. For your friends there, I mean.” He held out one grotesquely clawed hand. “Now let’s have a look at that pretty palm of yours.”

Fenris approached the demon, his eyes fixed on Hawke’s reddening face.

“Wait a minute,” Dorian protested. “Imshael, let’s — let’s talk about this. What other options—”

“Too late, Tevinter princeling,” Imshael said. “The grand Inquisitor has made his choice.”

Fenris ignored them. When he was within reach of the demon, he held out his crackling left hand.

Imshael chuckled — an evil, guttural sound. Just as Imshael was about to touch his hand, Fenris nodded surreptitiously to Hawke.

She twisted her fist in a wrenching motion. A blazing cage of white light appeared around the demon, making him scream with rage, and Hawke fell to a heap on the ground.

Her right hand was outstretched to maintain the cage. She looked up at Fenris with bloodshot eyes. “Do it,” she rasped.

Without another moment’s hesitation, Fenris flung his snapping left palm at the cage of light, and an enormous burst of pure rift magic exploded from his palm and bloomed violently inside of the cage, encapsulating the demon completely.

A horrendous, furious scream of pain and fury emanated from the cage. Fenris gritted his teeth and held the cloud of magic in place until the screaming died away, then clenched his fist shut and released his breath.

The demon was destroyed, nothing more than a breath of ash that was swiftly dissipating into the frigid wind. Fenris fell to his knees beside Hawke, who was hunched on the icy ground.

Blackwall, Dorian and Varric ran over to join them, but Fenris ignored them. “Hawke,” he said. He rubbed her arms, then cupped her cold cheek in his trembling palm. “Rynne, look at me.”

She lifted her face and smiled at him. She looked absolutely exhausted. “Hey, handsome. Are you a choice spirit? Because you take my breath away.” She laughed feebly, then broke into a hacking cough.

Fenris pulled her into his arms and buried his face against her ear. “You are an idiot,” he whispered.

She took a slow, rasping breath. “Only for you, Fenris,” she said. “Only for you.”

He swallowed hard and tucked his cloak more securely around her body. Varric patted his shoulder. “That was some fast thinking, you guys. Nice work.”

“You knew they were going to do that?” Blackwall asked Varric in surprise.

Varric shrugged. “Ah, I saw them staring at each other. They’ve got that sappy married couple’s mind-reading thing going on.”

Fenris didn’t respond. Varric wasn’t completely wrong; Hawke’s gaze had darted to the snapping magic building in his left hand, so he’d figured out what she was thinking. But in that split second, that terrifying instant when Imshael had tightened his monstrous fingers around her throat…

Fenris would have given Imshael the anchor to free Hawke from his grasp. He would have done it.

He pressed his face to her hair and inhaled her sandalwood scent. Then Varric patted his shoulder again. “Come on, we should get her somewhere warm. A tent and a few blankets at least.”

Fenris nodded. “We’ll set up camp here,” he said. He glanced around at the blood-and-ichor-stained paving stones. “Not right here,” he corrected, “but somewhere close by. I don’t want to move her too far.”

“I’m fine, honestly,” Hawke said. She tried to push herself out of Fenris’s embrace. “I can walk. We can go back to the nearest Inquisition camp.”

Her voice was hoarse and weak. Fenris tightened his arms around her. “No,” he said. “We remain here until the morning.” He looked at Blackwall, who had a livid bruise swelling across his right cheek. “Find an Inquisition runner; let them know that Suledin Keep is ours. Have them send a healer.”

Hawke tutted. “Come on, Fenris, I don’t need a healer—”

“Right away,” Blackwall said, and he marched away in the direction of the keep’s entrance. Varric and Dorian, meanwhile, had gone off to find a spot to set up for the night, leaving Fenris and Hawke alone.

He carefully arranged the fur-lined hood of his cloak over her hair, and she gave him an exasperated look. “You don’t need to coddle me. Just give me some elfroot and I’ll be grand.”

“You are close to being overextended,” Fenris scolded. “Don’t take me for a fool. I know the signs by now. I will not take any chances with your life.” He pulled a bottle of lyrium potion from her pouch belt and handed it to her, then brushed her spiky bangs out of her eyes.

She reached up and took his hand. “Hey,” she said. “I’m fine. I’ve rubbed elbows with death way more closely than this—”

“Don’t,” he snapped. “Don’t talk like that.”

She raised her eyebrows, then feebly shifted in his arms so she was sitting up in his lap. “What’s going on? What’s the matter?”

He took two deep, slow breaths before answering her. “I… I was ready to give the mark to the demon,” he admitted. “I was ready to trade the mark for your life.”

She gazed at him in silence for a moment. Then she stroked his neck with her cold fingers. “You didn’t, though. It didn’t come to that.”

“But I would have,” he said. He ran a hand through his hair. “I — the Inquisition — Hawke, I did not even consider it. It was the last thing on my mind—”

She cupped his cheek in her palm. “You think I would have done differently?” she said. “Fenris, I… Maker fucking knows I would do the same for you.”

He swallowed hard. “What does that say about us?”

“What do you mean?” she said. Then she grinned. “Wait. Don’t tell me Blackwall’s existential crisis is rubbing off on you.”

He scoffed and rubbed his hair again. “Perhaps. He… they… there is no plan,” he said very quietly. “Even Varric thought that was planned. How we defeated Imshael. That was not planned.”

“No, it wasn’t,” she said. “But it was a little bit awesome, right? I mean, come on. We tricked a really powerful demon. Sorry, ‘choice spirit’.” She snickered mockingly, then shrugged. “Maybe we really can read each other’s minds.”

Fenris gave her a chiding look. “I am being serious. They think… I am not what they think,” he said. “The Inquisitor should be someone who is committed to the Inquisition. Someone like Cassandra.”

Hawke shrugged. “I disagree,” she said. “It should be someone like you who has a life outside of the Inquisition. Someone who knows what it’s like to not be in the Inquisition and remembers what we’re even doing all this shitty fighting for.” She made a little face. “Can you imagine having no life beyond the Inquisition? It would be pretty fucking sad, I think.”

He idly ran his thumb over her knuckles. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps he was just trying to find an excuse to shunt this responsibility off on someone else.

Perhaps he just needed some rest.

He sighed. “Come on, Hawke, let’s get you into a bedroll.” He carefully scooped her up and rose to his feet.

She tutted, but draped her arms around his neck nevertheless. “You know, I really can walk, but you’re so dreamy that I’m not going to complain.”

He huffed. “That would make it a first for this trip.”

She chuckled hoarsely. Then Varric called out to them. “Hey, you guys probably want to come over here.”

Fenris frowned slightly, then carried Hawke over to the most north-facing balcony of the keep where Varric and Dorian were standing over a half-dead red Templar.

Fenris raised his eyebrows and gently set Hawke on her feet. “Why have we not put him out of his misery?” he asked.

Varric jerked his head at the Templar. “Just listen.”

The red Templar was muttering to himself. “A garden needs a gardener. Nurturing, gentle hands, directing the change,” he said hazily. “Not too fast, not too slow. Just right. Has to be just right.”

Hawke frowned. “He sounds like that note we found in the cellar here.”

“A red lyrium gardener: how very macabre.” Dorian’s face was serious despite his flippant words. He looked at Fenris with a frown. “It makes sense, however. The red Templars we encountered here were far more cognizant than the first ones we encountered in Haven. Whatever the demon was doing here to slow the mental decay, it was working.” He eyed the dying red Templar with a mixture of pity and distaste. “Fortunate we stopped that Imshael fellow before they refined their technique any further.”

Varric grunted. “Yeah. Every bit of red lyrium we get rid of is a good thing.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Hawke said. She gestured at the red Templar, who was still muttering to himself. “Are we going to end this poor sod’s suffering, then?”

“Yes,” Fenris said. He removed a short knife from his belt, then knelt and quickly slashed the Templar’s throat. A moment later, the man released a sigh of relief as he died.

They stood silently for a moment. Then Fenris placed a hand at the centre of Hawke’s back. “Come. Let’s rest. We should be set out for Skyhold in the morning.”

They returned to the spot that Dorian had magically cleared for their tents, and Dorian lit a fire with a wave of his hand while Varric and Fenris set up their tents. Hawke sat by the fire and began unpacking some simple camping rations.

“So let me get this straight,” she said as she handed Dorian a piece of oat bread. “Dwarves mine regular lyrium from the deep roads, but red lyrium just… grows bloody everywhere on everyone and everything?”

“Red lyrium came from the Deep Roads too, though,” Varric said. “I mean, who knows who made the idol, but we got it from the Deep Roads.” He sighed.

Hawke frowned sympathetically at him. “The idol can’t have been the only piece of red lyrium,” she reasoned. “It’s not where Corypheus got his stock from, because the idol’s still in Kirkwall with creepy statue Meredith, right? He must have gotten his red lyrium from somewhere else. Before he started farming it, at least.”

Fenris knew why she was saying this to Varric: Varric felt guilty about the role that red lyrium was playing in their current troubles, even though Bartrand had been the one to spearhead their journey to the Deep Roads all those years ago, not to mention who had brought the idol into Kirkwall in the first place.

Varric wryly raised one eyebrow. “That’s not exactly comforting. To think there’s a vein of red lyrium somewhere that Corypheus is mining?”

Dorian stroked his mustache slowly. “Why grow it if they can mine it, though?”

“Growing is way more efficient,” Varric said darkly. “I mean, think about it. Who’d want to go mining in the Deep Roads when you can just harvest it from people’s bodies?”

Hawke and Dorian grimaced. “Such a charming thought,” Dorian said. “I may vomit.”

Fenris and Varric joined them at the fire, and Fenris handed Hawke a vial of elfroot potion. “It puzzles me that red lyrium can grow in the first place,” he said. “It’s a mineral that must be mined. How is it possible that it grows?”

Hawke sipped her elfroot. “That’s true,” she said slowly. “Minerals crystallize. So maybe it’s just a form of… exaggerated crystallization?” She grimaced doubtfully.

Varric and Fenris shrugged. Then Dorian spoke up. “Well, we keep saying people are infected with red lyrium. Maybe that’s really what it is: an infection. A parasite.”

“A parasitic mineral?” Hawke said.

Varric sighed. “As if shit wasn’t weird enough already.”

Fenris twisted his lips ruefully. He had to agree with Varric. It was hard enough trying to fathom the nature of regular lyrium without the red kind making matters more complicated.

He stared moodily at the white lines on his palm. For years he’d thought himself cursed by the tattoos that twisted and twined around his limbs. He’d become a bit more comfortable with the lyrium marks over the past few years, but with all these disturbing new questions, combined with what Solas had said about his erstwhile magic being held captive in the lyrium lines that marred his skin…

He glared at the livid white lines on his palm. Then Hawke gently placed a piece of oat bread in his open hand.

He looked up at her, and she smiled. “Eat,” she said softly. “I’m not the only one who’s tired after all that fighting.”

He closed his fingers over the bread and nodded. She handed some bread to Varric too, then took a bite of her own bread. “I don’t know about you fellows, but I could eat an entire pot of stew right about now.”

“Mm,” Varric agreed through a mouthful of bread. “Don’t remind me. I’d even eat the stew they made at the Hanged Man as long as it was hot.”

Fenris snorted. “You’re fooling no one with that remark. We know you enjoyed the Hanged Man’s mystery stew.” He took a small bite of his bread.

“‘Tolerating until your taste buds go numb’ isn’t the same as ‘enjoying’,” Varric drawled. “Either way, I’d eat it.”

“I have to agree,” Dorian said. “Anything as long as it was hot. Kaffas, I would even drink mulled wine right now.”

Varric raised his eyebrows. “You don’t like mulled wine? I thought you Tevinters loved your wine.”

“Oh, do we ever,” Dorian said with relish. “Hence why those with discerning tastes—”

“Privileged tastes,” Fenris put in.

“–don’t drink mulled wine,” Dorian finished while blithely ignoring him. “I can’t quite fathom the logic behind mulled wine. ‘Ah yes, let’s take every bottle of wine in a ten-metre radius and dump it in a pot with a box of random spices. How delicious!’” He shuddered dramatically. “It’s truly one of the most ghastly discoveries I’ve made in the south.”

Fenris scoffed and took another bite of bread. Dorian raised his eyebrows. “Oh, don’t even try and pretend you enjoy mulled wine.”

Fenris swallowed his bread. “No,” he admitted. “But that doesn’t mean–”

Dorian laughed loudly. “Ah, be careful, my friend. Your true colours are showing.”

Fenris huffed. “I don’t like it, but I would still drink it.”

“So would I,” Dorian said archly. “That’s the point. Desperate times, desperate drinks.” He raised an eyebrow. “Speaking of which, did none of us bring any alcohol? How terribly remiss.”

Hawke pointed accusingly at him. “You promised me a bottle of brandy. I intend to collect on that promise.”

“Yes, all right,” Dorian said patiently. “The moment we return to Skyhold, I will positively drown you in brandy.”

Hawke grinned, and Fenris shook his head in dismay. “Don’t encourage her.”

“I’m tempted to encourage her just to watch her run you ragged,” Dorian teased.

Hawke and Varric chuckled, and Fenris ruefully shook his head, and for a time they sat by the fire simply chatting and eating their bread. Hawke leaned companionably into Fenris’s arm, then eventually rested her cheek against his shoulder. When she fell quiet, listening and laughing instead of making her usual cheeky remarks, Fenris patted her knee.

“Come,” he said. “Let’s get some sleep.”

She nodded, and they bade Varric and Dorian a good night and walked over to their tent.

Hawke crouched and peered into the tent, then grimaced. “Ugh, it’s so fucking cold. Hang on out here for a moment.” She crawled into the tent and tucked the flap shut. A second later, a dim orange glow filtered through the cracks in the tent flap.

Fenris waited patiently as she shuffled around in the tent. A few minutes later, she called out in a muffled voice. “All right, come in. Quickly!”

He knelt and crawled into the tent. The inside of the tent was tangibly warmer than outside thanks to a tiny glowing fireball hovering near the top of the tent. Hawke was already bundled in their bedding, tucked in so securely he could barely see her face.

A burst of fondness filled his chest. He began pulling off his armour. “You’re certain this flame doesn’t draw too much energy?”

“It’s fine,” she said. “I’ll put it out once you get in here with me.”

Her tone was playful, and Fenris noted with relief that her voice only sounded mildly raspy now — thanks to the elfroot, no doubt. He stripped down to his fur-lined leggings and thermal shirt, then slipped under the covers.

Predictably, she was naked aside from her smallclothes, and she pressed herself against his chest the moment he slid beneath the bedding. “Hey,” she complained. “You promised me skin-to-skin.”

“I didn’t, in fact,” he replied. “You were the one–” He broke off and grabbed her hands as she tried to slip them beneath his shirt, then relaxed when he realized he hands weren’t freezing.

She laughed softly and curled her arm around his waist. “I wouldn’t stick my cold hands inside your shirt. I’m not that much of a bitch.”

“You stuck your frozen fingers inside my collar the first day we got here,” he reminded her.

She laughed again. “Shit. I guess I am a bitch then.” She snuggled as close to him as possible and tucked her head beneath his chin. “Please get naked with me. I’m still cold.”

He scoffed as she tucked one knee between his legs. “You never stop, do you?”

She shook her head. “Never,” she said. “There’s no such thing as being too close to you.”

A thread of tenderness squeezed his heart. Carefully so as not to disturb her too much, he pulled his shirt off, then shuffled his leggings off with some difficulty.

Hawke helped him with the leggings, then chivvied him into lying on his back and draped herself across his body. “Better,” she whispered.

He smiled and idly ran his hand along her arm. “Yes, it is.”

She hummed happily in response. Less than a minute later, her breathing evened out into the slow and easy cadence of sleep, and the tiny fireball at the top of the tent winked out of existence.

Fenris let out a long sigh. The inside of the tent was dark aside from the dim glow of the fire where Varric, Dorian, and a returned Blackwall were sitting, and the indistinct murmuring of their voices was oddly soothing. Despite the intensity of their activity today, however, Fenris didn’t really feel tired.

He ran his palm in a careful path from Hawke’s bare shoulder to her wrist and back, and he thought about Blackwall’s words from earlier today: how the intention to protect had led Clarel astray. It was easy enough to judge Clarel after seeing the horrific blood magic rituals she’d perpetrated, but what Fenris had almost done today…

To save Hawke’s life, he’d nearly made a deal with a demon. It was something he would never have imagined himself doing, but seeing Hawke so terribly threatened had driven everything else from his mind.

Being willing to deal with demons in order to save Hawke’s life… what did that say about him? Hawke seemed to think it didn’t matter, since he hadn’t made a deal in the end. But intentions were important. Consequences were important, of course, but intentions were important too. Perhaps this meant he was no better than Merrill, with her pride demon and her cursed eluvian.

Perhaps this meant he was no better than Anders.

He mentally recoiled from the thought the moment it crossed his mind. It is not the same, he thought. He wasn’t seeking knowledge or power like Merrill or Anders.

But his motivation — to save one person at the expense of everything else — was still ultimately selfish.

Hawke shifted on his body. “This arm rubbing is nice and all, but you’re keeping me awake,” she mumbled.

“Ah,” he said. He relaxed his fingers. He hadn’t realized he was rubbing her arm quite that firmly. “I’m sorry.”

She pulled away from him slightly. “Are you all right?”

“Yes. I’m well,” he murmured. He forced his hands to stay still on her body.

After a quiet moment, she spoke again. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He nibbled the inside of his cheek. “Later, perhaps,” he said. “Get some rest.”

“All right, if you’re sure.” She nestled her cheek against his chest once more, then yawned. “I love you.”

He swallowed hard. Hawke frequently told him she loved him, but tonight it brought a lump to his throat.

“I love you,” he whispered.

She hummed contentedly, and a minute later she was asleep again.

Fenris closed his eyes and began to practice the same meditative breathing that he’d reminded Cullen to try. But even as he felt the muscles in his shoulders and his jaw loosening and relaxing, he continued to worry about intentions and consequences, and about himself and Hawke.

He and Hawke refused to be apart, and they had never hidden their willingness to protect each other at all cost. But for the first time, Fenris couldn’t help but worry how high that cost might be.

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meticulousfragments · 5 years ago

Photo

Aliss Hawke

Mage, Champion, human disaster

Once again with art I commissioned (while I was using my old blog) from the wonderful @cakiebakie!

tag pinterest fics

Aliss is the twin sister to Damon Hawke, another of my OCs. post for him coming soon

Physical Description

Aliss is a giant ginger asshole, standing at 5′11″ with biceps and thighs to kill a man. She inherited her dad’s golden brown eyes, and her mom’s cheekbones. Aliss has a golden tattoo around her eye and a scar down her face, both of which tend to make her described as “interesting” rather than “beautiful.”

Bio

Malcolm and Leandra Hawke's oldest child, Aliss Hawke shared her father's gift of magic. After Malcolm's death, Aliss took responsibility for her mother and siblings--a responsibility which, despite her flippant nature, she took very seriously.

Though her sister died escaping the Fifth Blight, Aliss, her mother, and her brother made their way to Kirkwall. To earn their way into the city, Aliss and Carver worked with Athenril's gang of smugglers.

Kirkwall

One year later, the remaining Hawke siblings signed on to the Tethras brother's Deep Roads expedition. In the process of preparing for the venture, Aliss collected a band of rogues, apostates, and outcasts. With their aid, they raised enough to fund the enterprise. Though Carver became infected with the Darkspawn taint, Anders was able to guide them to a nearby party of Grey Wardens. By recruiting him to their ranks, the Wardens saved Carver's life.

Over the next several years, Aliss rose in both status and noteriety, culminating in a duel with the Qunari Arishok that led to her being named Champion of Kirkwall.

Other important events in her personal life--her mother's murder, a stalled-and-restarted relationship with Fenris, and various degrees of meddling in her companions' personal lives--occurred against the backdrop of increasing tensions between Kirkwall's templars and mages.

When these tensions came to a head, Hawke chose to side with the mages. She refused to execute her close friend, Anders, instead having him join her in defeating Meredith.

Important Decisions

worked with the smugglers

sent Carver to the Grey Wardens

killed the Arishok

bought the Bone Pit, then slayed the dragon

sided with mages

supported Anders

sided with Larius during the Legacy DLC

After Kirkwall

Aliss left the city with Fenris, they spent some time wandering Thedas, helping where they could and loosing any pursuers in the chaos of the mage rebellion. When needed, she helped the Inquisition, and returned to Fenris after making it out of the Fade.

In the Three Mages fic, Aliss stays with the Inquisition for some time, assisting with their efforts from Adamant onward.

Otherwise, Aliss and Fenris seem to disappear for a time, though rumors suggest that they’ve gone north, to the Grey Wardens.

Personality

Aliss is an extremely purple Hawke; she uses humor and deflection in almost every situation. In some respects, the laughing swagger she tries to maintain is genuine, but it’s also a mask for a someone who genuinely cares more than she’ll admit and who has a massive fear of abandonment.

Aliss Hawke’s upbringing and education was sort of piecemeal; she learned magic one-on-one with her father, learned etiquette against her will from her mother, and learned various ragamuffinry from growing up on Fereldan farms. The end result is someone with strong shoulders who casts spells with homemade forms and knows the proper way to address every noble she doesn’t respect.

Aliss is extremely witty--in her own mind. To other people, the reception for her humor varies wildly. In some cases it’s helped diffuse a conflict, in others it’s probably served to escalate things. Regardless of the potential outcome, Aliss tends to speak the first though in her head without totally thinking things through.

When Aliss decides that she cares for a person, they’re family. And she would fight or sacrifice just about anything for family. While also poking fun at them mercilessly, of course.

#aliss hawke #my ocs #oc bio posts #aliss x fenris #hawke x fenris

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daughter-of-the-prophet · 5 years ago

Text

Areida Hawke (TV Tropes)

Action Mom: By Inquisition, Areida and Anders have two sons. Three-year-old Karl and one-year-old Malcolm.

By Trespasser, they have a third child. A one-year-old daughter named Leandra.

Action Survivor: Along with her younger brother, Carver, Areida survived Ostagar and managed to outrun the darkspawn horde to Lothering. She also obviously survives the Blight, getting to Kirkwall, and thence the entire story.

Adaptational Badass: Played with. Areida is already a certified badass, but Varric is often found telling stories in the Hanged Man that exaggerate it to truly ridiculous levels. By Act 3, there are people claiming that Areida uses the Arishok's skull as a gravy boat and sleeps on a bed of dragon bones.

Adaptational Dye Job: In Universe example. Areida has brown hair while in Varric's book, her hair is black.

Adaptational Ugliness: Another In Universe example and more like adaptional plainness. In Varric's book, Tale of the Champion and the story's prologue, Areida's physical appearane is badass and tomboyish looking, complete with boyish short hair while in real life, Areida is much more prettier.

Varric likely change Areida’s physical appearance in order to protect her identity.

The only physical description of Areida that Varric kept in his book were her striking blue eyes.

All-Loving Hero: Areida is unfailingly kind and compassionate to those around her. However, one of the most tragic parts of the story is that, no matter how loving and heroic Areida is, she cannot prevent the deaths of her brother and her mother or prevent Thedas from collapsing into war. It's really not her fault at all, but she’s the one that history will blame.

Almighty Janitor: Before becoming Champion, Areida is just a citizen/noble of Kirkwall. She has no special titles or ranks nor is she interested in getting one. In fact, Aveline gives her a bit of a hard time for not petitioning for a title. Areida prefers to run things from the ground, as this gives her the freedom to act without going through political red-tape. By Act III, this is actually given as the reason why the nobles want Areida as the new Viscountess, because instead of political posturing, she is the only person who actually manages to get things done.

Ambadassador: The Arishok is willing to speak Areida and only Areida in Act II, mostly because the Arishok views her as the only one in the entire city of Kirkwall worth respecting.

In Act III, Areida mentions that she’s occasionally been called upon in her role as Champion to "rescue" visiting foreign heads of state from having to put up with Knight-Commander Meredith for too long.

Animal Motifs: Hawks, of course.

Her "Mantle of the Champion" armor has spurs and talons. Additionally, it has a beak-like hood and belt buckles shaped like hawk beaks/skulls.

Carried over in Inquisition, where Areida's tarot card is a hawk with the city of Kirkwall on its wings, weighing it down.

Asskicking Equals Authority: Areida defeats the Arishok in single combat and is rewarded with the title of Champion...

Authority Equals Asskicking: ... And becomes even more badass as a result.

After becoming Champion of Kirkwall, it is implied that Areida has enough authority that the Templars purposefully choose to ignore Anders and Merrill, two of Areida's well-known Mage friends because of this. And if Meredith hadn't been able to seize power in the wake of the Viscount's assassination, Areida would likely have been declared Viscountess of Kirkwall, not merely Champion.

Audience Surrogate: Oddly enough, Areida fits this in Inquisition more than she did in her own story.

Badass Creed: When Tallis tells Areida that the Qun could give her a purpose.

Areida: "I have a purpose. I protect Kirkwall."

Badass Family: Both the Amells and the Hawkes are ridiculously badass.

Badass Normal: Along with Carver, Areida actually survived the fighting at Ostagar.

Compared to the other two protagonists, Areida is not a Grey Warden and has no magical mark, but she is simply a normal fighter.

Badass Unintentional: In the beginning of the story, Areida is just trying to protect her family. When she gets to Kirkwall... it doesn't go well.

Beauty, Brains and Brawn: In a trio with Bethany and Aveline, Areida is The Brains; She becomes the de facto leader of both the Hawke family and her Ragtag Bunch of Misfits in Kirkwall, making the major decisions and guiding the others.

Because Destiny Says So: Areida becoming Champion of Kirkwall. Invoked by Flemeth during the Destiny trailer:

Flemeth: "There are men who struggle against destiny, and yet only achieve an early grave. There are men who flee destiny, only to have it swallow them whole. And then, there are men who embrace destiny... and do not show their fear. These are the ones that will change the world forever."

Belated Happy Ending: In Inquisition, after stopping the ritual at Adamant Fortress, Areida travels to Weisshaupt (having unrevealed issues at the time) to explain things. Trespasser reveals in the epilogue that Areida has indeed come back from Weisshaupt and returned home to Kirkwall, helping out the newly appointed Viscount Varric and getting to enjoy her Champion of Kirkwall title without the political turmoil of the Dragon Age II years. She's also living happily in the Hawke estate again with Anders, their three children, and her sister Bethany.

Benevolent Boss: Areida doubles the wages of the Fereldan workers in the Bone Pit along with protecting the workers from dangerous creatures that threaten the mine. It's also mentioned that Areida donates most of her earnings from the mine to help the Fereldan refugees and those orphaned by the Blight. She also lets Bodahn and Sandal stay at the Estate, despite insisting that Bodahn doesn't owe her anything for saving Sandal's life in the Deep Roads. Areida also frees Orana from slavery and offers her paid work as her maid, with it mentioned in Act 3 that she also encouraged Orana's musical talents and paid for her music lessons out of her own pocket. She also treats Bodahn, Sandal, and Orana like they are part of the family.

Berserk Button: Areida is diplomatic and kind most of the time but she will become agressive if anyone dares threaten to harm anyone in her family, especially her mother and younger sister.

The only other time Areida ever raises her voice in anger is when Meredith brings up the fact that her mother was murdered by a blood mage as they argue at the beginning of Act 3 about the fact that Meredith has become a tyrant towards the mages.

Beware the Nice Ones: Areida might attempt to be reasonable, but she's the Champion of Kirkwall for a reason.

Big Sister Instinct: Areida is protective of both of her siblings, but she's obviously more protective of Bethany.

The first thing Areida does when Ser Wesley identifies Bethany as an apostate is get right in his face with fire in her eyes.

Areida gains Feynriel’s trust by openly admitting that she's spent her entire life protecting her sister from the Templars.

It's heavily implied that Areida joined the army at Ostagar simply because she wanted to keep an eye on and protect Carver.

Big Good: Areida is this to the people of Kirkwall. As Varric's narration makes absolutely clear, she is the only person in Kirkwall actively trying to make the City of Chains a better place for everyone to live, and repeatedly puts her life on the line in order to go out of her way to help people.

Boyish Short Hair: She has straight boyish short black hair in the prologue and Varric's book about her. Her hair is actually brown, a little bit longer, and more wavy.

Break His Heart to Save Him: Averted. Areida does not break up with Anders but she doesn't bring him along when she goes to Skyhold either. Areida is not happy about leaving him behind, but she is not willing to take the risk that Corypheus will affect Anders' mind again.

Broken Ace: Despite being powerful and well-respected, Areida can't help but feel she is a Cosmic Plaything.

Taken even further in Inquisition, where she admits that she no longer uses the "Champion of Kirkwall" title, given her failure to stop any of the madness.

Brooding Boy, Gentle Girl: Increasingly, Areida becomes the Gentle Girl to Anders' Brooding Boy as time goes on.

Bullying a Dragon: Place this kindhearted, affable woman in front of enemies, and let them see that she's entirely capable of slicing them with her daggers. Next to no one seems able to get the hint that they should tread carefully to avoid trying to start a physical fight with Areida.

Despite being well-known as the Champion of Kirkwall by Act III, the amount of people who try to murder the person who defeated the Arishok in single-combat is particularly baffling.

Calling the Old Man Out: Downplayed, as Areida never really yells or talks angrily at Leandra, but she points out that the Hawkes are only in Kirkwall because they fled the Blight, and therefore they're not entitled to have her family's wealth.

The Caretaker: As head of the household since Malcolm's death, Areida's primary motivation has been and continues to be looking after Leandra, Bethany and Carver. Unfortunately, as the story goes on, she fails to protect her brother and mother through no fault of her own. This extends to her companions as well. Her need to take on other people's problems is borderline unhealthy.

Hawke: "Your problems are my problems."

Fenris: "Unlucky you."

The Champion: Areida is this towards Bethany. When Ser Wesley realizes that Bethany is a mage, Areida's immediate reaction is to step in front of her sister and give a Death Glare to the Templar that informs him that he will have to go through her first.

For the entirety of Act 3, this is Areida's official title - Champion of Kirkwall - and she commands a high level of respect from almost everyone because of her devotion to protecting the populace. It's noted in supplemental material that "Champion" is a special title used only by the city-states in the Free Marches.

Characterization Marches On: In Inquisition, Areida has become very anti-blood magic. One could assume that the Mage/Templar war was the catalyst to make her despise blood magic between the second and third story.

Child of Forbidden Love: Areida's maternal grandparents disowned her mother for getting pregnant with the child of a mage and then running away to elope with the mage, making Areida this along with her younger siblings.

The Chosen One: Areida's actions ultimately change the face of Thedas forever. Word of God has even stated that because of this, Areida is one of the most important people in Thedas's entire history.

This trope is averted in-universe, however; as there is no Big Bad orchestrating everything behind the scenes, there's also no good counterpart to Save the World from the villain. Areida is just a Rags to Riches��refugee who's sufficiently badass enough to gain a measure of political and financial clout - and even that can't stop the tide of unrest that consumes Kirkwall. Varric speculates to Cassandra on the complexities of whether Areida's presence was for better or for worse.

Cosmic Plaything: Sorry, Areida, but being The Chosen One doesn't preclude you from being Destiny's bitch.

Country Cousin: Rural Ferelden-born Areida is one to the noble Amell family.

Cruel Mercy: Played straight in Mark of the Assassin when Areida decides to spare Baron Arlange instead of having him killed. Areida had mopped the floor with Arlange after he attempted to murder her and her companions for having the audacity to kill the alpha wyvern first during the hunt. Despite Tallis pointing out that Areida is the "Champion of Kirkwall" and eats people like him for breakfast, Arlange still doesn't learn his lesson. The next time he tries to kill her, Areida isn't so merciful.

Deal with the Devil: Areida is forced to make one of these with Flemeth - help her with her Thanatos Gambit in exchange for getting the Hawke family and Aveline to safety. By the end of the story, there seem to be no negative consequences, at least for Areida. Considering Areida's Cosmic Plaything status, this could actually count as a minor Plot Twist.

Did You Just Punch Out Cthulhu?:

The reaction of pure shock on Meredith's face when she enters the room to find that Areida has defeated the Arishok. Cassandra even has this reaction of utter disbelief that Areida did so in single combat.

Cassandra reacts with similar disbelief in Legacy when Varric tells her the tale of Areida defeating one of the first darkspawn in existence - one of the Magisters who brought the Blight to Thedas in the first place. Admittedly, it's hard to blame her.

Flemeth invokes this during the Prologue, claiming Areida successfully piqued her interest by killing the Ogre.

The Dutiful Daughter: Areida's entire motivation in Act 1 is to simply provide for her mother and gain enough money to win back her mother's childhood home.

Earn Your Happy Ending: It's revealed in Trespasser that Areida eventually returns to Kirkwall as its Champion, and helps rebuild it with Varric as the new Viscount.

Even the Girls Want Her: A lot of female characters come on to Areida.

Eye Take: Areida's reaction to Aveline needing three goats and a sheaf of wheat.

Facial Markings: In the prologue and Tale of the Champion, Areida has a red blood smear on the bridge of her nose.

Failure Hero: Fails to prevent her brother’s death in the beginning of the story. Fails to prevent the Templars from taking her sister away to the circle. Fails to save her mother from a serial killer. Fails to stop the Qunari attack on Kirkwall. Fails to prevent the Mage/Templar War. Fails to properly kill Corypheus. Essentially, Areida tries to stand against massive wave after massive wave and most of what she achieves is getting soaked to the bone. Even her one unambiguous success (the Deep Roads expedition which makes her filthy rich) turns out to have disastrous effects in the long run thanks to her discovery of red lyrium. The best that can be said for Areida is that her actions at least prevented bad situations from becoming many times worse. In Inquisition, the Nightmare demon taunts Areida with the fact that nothing she did made a big difference and that she couldn't even succeed in saving Kirkwall.

Though the ending of Trespasser reveals that she eventually returned to Kirkwall as it's Champion and helped it rebuild. Her efforts did amount to something, it just took a long time to get there.

Family Eye Resemblance: Areida's striking blue eyes are her most notable physical feature that she inherited from her father, Malcolm. This may have been how the Catra from Legacy knew she was his daughter.

Field Promotion: When it becomes clear that Meredith's going to keep bickering with Orsino over who's leading the assault, Orsino suggests following Areida as a compromise.

Fighter, Mage, Thief: Areida is a rouge who specializes in fighting with a dagger in each hand.

Fight Magnet:

Areida can't even drop off a piece of mail without fighting more faceless, rooftop-hopping enemies with pointy weapons than most 80's action movie heroes did in their entire careers. Delivering a piece of mail? Mercenary horde! Meeting a contact late at night? Random assassin attack! Taking a talisman to an altar on a mountain? Legions of undead and giant spiders! Going for a stroll on the beach? Tal-Vashoth squads, raider groups, and packs of feral mabari hounds! And Areida can't go a week without running into one insane mage or another. This is lampshaded extensively, too. Bodahn comments that he's never had to clean up so many bloody footprints in someone's house before.

Varric lampshades this in Legacy:

Varric: "The day you go to the beach is the day an armada of angry demon pirates show up."

Folk Hero: Varric's exaggerations are the retelling of the Champion's story through the public's eyes.

Fluffy Tamer: Inverted. Mabari choose their owners and Maximus chose Areida.

Friend to All Children: Areida doesn’t react well when it comes to children being hurt. Discovering that a deranged serial killer has been targeting the elven children of Kirkwall, simply because they are "too beautiful," is enough to make the diplomatic Areida so utterly furious she vow to slit the man's throat.

After Areida becomes a Noble in Act 2, it's implied by Aveline that Areida has donated a large amount of her reclaimed family fortune, in order to help her fellow Fereldan refugees and the children orphaned by the Blight. She also gives money to a specific beggar in Darktown who asks for help in feeding her children.

From Nobody to Nightmare: From at least some people's perspectives after Dragon Age II.

Generation Xerox: Areida greatly resembles, and takes after, her father, Malcolm Hawke.

Like her mother, Leandra, she starts a romantic relationship with an apostate and goes on the run with him while pregnant with his child, though unlike her mother, Areida didn’t know about her pregnancy until one month after she left Kirkwall.

Good Counterpart: To her Uncle Gamlen. Both are heads of the household and sole breadwinners, responsible for looking after their siblings and parents, as well as belonging to a family that has fallen on hard times. However, Gamlen blames others for his misfortune while attempting to bribe, cheat and swindle his way back into riches. By comparison, Areida immediately demonstrates that she is willing to roll up her sleeves, get her hands dirty and actually do some work in order to change her situation.

It should be noted that the latter is partially because Areida didn't really have much of a choice. She was perfectly willing to rely on Leandra's noble roots to house them in Kirkwall, but was forced to roll up her sleeves and work when it became clear that Gamlen's bungling and fraud had cost the Hawke family the option they thought they had. Still, we never hear Areida complain.

It's also worth noting that Uncle Gamlen can be something of a Jerkass at times, but he's not really evil, and he does love his family even if he's a bit incompetent.

The Hero

Heroic BSoD: After her mother dies, Areida spends the next few cutscenes in a depression.

Heroic Self-Deprecation: When she shows up in Dragon Age: Inquisition, it's clear that Areida has been hit hard by her frequent failures. In their first meeting, Areida honestly doesn't understand why Inquisitor Rosabelle Trevelyan would even want her help.

Hero of Another Story: Despite being the protagonist, Areida oddly enough qualifies for this, due to the Framing Device being set in the present day and depicting Cassandra's attempt to glean the truth about Areida's tale from Varric's recollections.

Highly Visible Ninja: Areida’s “Mantle of the Champion” armor is a very practical armor, secured with a series of straps to her body without hampering her mobility.

Honorary Aunt: She becomes an honorary Aunt to Aveline and Donnic’s daughter, whom they named after her. She is known as “Aunt Reedy”.

Hurting Hero: Just look at some of her TV Tropes entries. There are certain points in the story where Areida is depressed. The most notable example is when after her mother dies. This is upped considerably in Inquisition, where after four years of constantly being on the run, her failure to stop the Mage-Templar War and failing to kill Corypheus have done irreparable damage to Areida's self-esteem and left her lonelier than ever.

Hypercompetent Sidekick:

To Viscount Dumar in Act 2, routinely stepping in to deal with the Qunari on his behalf.

Likewise fulfills this role opposite Tallis in Mark of the Assassin, being mentioned as one of the reasons she chose to seek Areida out.

To Athenril's smugglers during her first year in Kirkwall. Athenril's group of smugglers went from a minor thieves' guild to rivaling both the Carta and the Coterie during the year they had Areida among them.

I Am Your Opponent:

Invokes this towards the Arishok, indicating that if he wants to take Kirkwall, he has to go through her first.

For his part, the Arishok consistently treats Areida as a Worthy Opponent and the greatest threat that exists in Kirkwall. During his attempted coup d'etat at the end of Act 2, he tries to eliminate her before anyone else. When that doesn't work, he challenges Areida outright, complimenting her with the title of basalit-an - an outsider worthy of respect.

I Was Never Here: Areida's apparent work ethic, typically taking jobs that involve acting beneath anyone's notice. Throughout the story, Aveline, the Viscount, the Templars, and even the Arishok all use her as a neutral third party agent so that if she get caught, she can claim plausible deniability in that she isn't doing anything officially sanctioned.

In Mark of the Assassin, Along with the fact the Areida is basalit-an, Tallis implies that one of the reasons she sought her out was because she can operate under the radar.

Iconic Outfit: Her "Mantle of the Champion" armor is an in-universe example. She’s still wearing it by the time of Inquisition.

Indifferent Beauty: A lot of different characters comment on Areida's beauty, even Varric, who's already spoken for . Areida knows that she's considered attractive looking yet she doesn't seem to take any particular pride or interest in it. The only time she takes interest in her own beauty is when Anders comments on it.

It's All My Fault:

Areida thinks this after Carver is killed by an ogre. She even silently agrees with her mother when she lashes out at her in grief that it's her fault. Areida still blames herself for Carver's death even after her mother apologizes to her for lashing out at her for it.

She takes this attitude again after her mother is murder by a blood mage serial killer, believing that she could have prevented her mother’s death if she had watched over her more closely.

And again in Inquisition when Corypheus returns. This is one of the reasons why she wanted to perform a Heroic Sacrifice in the Fade.

Knife Nut: Areida can practically dance with her daggers.

Lady of War: Areida is a soft-spoken, graceful, complete and utter badass.

Last-Name Basis: Practically everyone refers to Areida by her last name. More than once, Areida will introduce herself as such; apparently, she prefers being on a last name basis. However, in salutations of letters from family members, Areida is addressed by her given name.

This is actually a little amusing when you hear the party members refer to Bethany by her first name and then immediately after, in the same sentence, refer to Areida by her last name.

Even Anders always call her Hawke. The only ones who don't are the members of her own family, who instead use affectionate nicknames. For example, Bethany calls Areida "sis".

It's also a little weird when Areida has Bethany in the party and characters still say things like "So, you're Hawke." Bethany never mentions that she is also a Hawke. Of course, in many cultures, the eldest child and head of the household is addressed by their family name, so this makes some sense.

Played with in Legacy. The Carta attempted to abduct both Areida and Bethany, hedging their bets that one of them has to be "The Hawke", since they were tasked with finding the blood of "The Hawke"... and they were a little unsure which Hawke was actually required?! Taken further when it is reveled that Areida and Bethany’s father, Malcolm, was also called "The Hawke", which leads to some conversations, where all three are known by this title, completely interchangeably. So in other words, Malcolm was "The Hawke", Areida is now "The Hawke", and Bethany could be "The Hawke"! should anything happen to her older sister.

This trope is averted by Orana, Areida's elven maid. As a former slave, she's been instilled with the unconscious urge to refer to someone in authority as "Mistress". This is despite Areida's insistence that she's not a slave anymore and is free to refer to her by her actual name.

Legacy Character:

In Legacy, the Carta frequently refer to both Areida and her late father, Malcolm, as being "the Hawke".

It becomes more confusing as Bethany is referred to by this title too.

Like a Son to Me: Areida invokes this towards Sandal. Bodahn worries in Act 3 that he's starting to get on in years and he doesn't know what will happen to Sandal after he is gone. Areida assures him that Sandal will always be welcomed in her home.

Like Mother, Like Daughter: Just like her mother, Areida starts a romantic relationship with an apostate and goes on the run with him while pregnant with his child, though unlike her mother, Areida didn’t know about her pregnancy until one month after she left Kirkwall.

Gamlen: “I hear you moved that apostate boy into your home. You really are your mother’s daughter.”

Living Emotional Crutch: She serves as an emotional anchor for a significant number of her friends, either at certain points or throughout the entire story. This is especially pronounced with Anders, Merrill, and Fenris.

Lonely at the Top: Played with. Her friends mostly stick around, but Areida's family doesn't. As she gets closer to glory, Carver dies in Lothering, Bethany gets sent to the Circle, and her mother is kidnapped and murdered by a blood mage serial killer. Every step up the ladder Areida takes, she becomes steadily more alone. By Act 3, only Gamlen, Charade, Bodahn, and Sandal, and Orana are left. It makes Areida's offer for Anders to move in with her in Act 3 much more poignant.

Love Martyr: Even though Anders flat-out lied to Areida and the other companions and tricked her into helping him start the final battle in the first place, Areida commits to him before the final battle, even though this means being hunted as a fugitive along with the most wanted man in Thedas.

She also has this towards her Uncle Gamlen in a family type way. Despite the fact that he acts like a jerk towards her most of the time, Areida loves her uncle and is willing to protect him, as shown in Act 3.

Magnetic Hero: Arguably moreso than Ilona Cousland. While in the first story, the party is tied together by a common cause, this is not the case here. Although some companions develop friendships, it's their bond with Areida that keeps them working together as a group. Legacy reveals that Areida inherited this trait from her father.

Besides her regular companions, it's shown that Bodahn Feddic vowed complete Undying Loyalty after Areida rescued his adopted son, Sandal, in the Deep Roads, becoming her man-servant and official Team Dad of her estate, despite Areida's protests that it really wasn't necessary. Areida's elven maid, Orana, was a former slave that she rescued from an insane Tevinter Magister. Orana is naturally bewildered when Areida informs her she's now free, proceeds to offer her a job... and more astoundingly, is actually going to pay her for her service.

Meaningful Name: Both the Hawke and Amell family names derive from birds of prey. Flemeth lampshades this, telling Areida that when the time is right, she should not be afraid to leap, as it only then that she will learn how to fly!

Amell literally means "Power of an Eagle", which becomes very apropos considering her (former) high status in Kirkwall. Likewise, it also is very apt given the family's return to prominence through their scion, Hawke.

Memetic Badass: Areida is an in-universe example, at least through Varric's storytelling.

Modest Royalty:

Despite being acknowledged by the Viscount as the legitimate heir to the Amells, Areida turned down the title of "Lady Amell" because she wished to make the Hawke family name as respected and earn the title of "Lady Hawke".

Unlike her mother, who was born into wealth, Areida hates socialising with the aristocracy. After becoming Champion of Kirkwall, it's mentioned that she only attends formal banquets held in her honour because she has to. Truthfully, she'd rather be down at the Hanged Man with her friends.

Must Make Amends: For releasing Corypheus and failing to kill him. She joins the Inquisition because of it and it's one reason why she was willing to sacrifice herself later in the story.

My Greatest Failure: Areida's inability to prevent her brother from being killed by an Ogre, as well as prevent her mother's murder.

Nay-Theist: A variation. While Areida appears to believe in the Maker and Andraste, she often appear to be highly skeptical of the Chantry and affiliated organisations like the Templars.

Neutral Good: Invoked by Aveline, who expresses her annoyance that Areida has never sought any kind of position in Kirkwall society in all the years she's been in the city. Areida repeatedly states that her only concern is the welfare of her friends and family and that she'd rather stay out of Kirkwall politics, only becoming involved when she absolutely must.

Nice Job Breaking It, Hero!:

Several horrible events in the story are indirectly Areida's fault. In fact, Areida seems to know that she does this.

Areida: "Summoned a horror. Of course. Why wouldn't I do that?"

In Legacy, Areida causes Corypheus to inhabit a nearby Grey Warden after defeating him, who then goes on to become the main villain of Inquisition. That particular screw-up hit her hard.

Areida's look when she realizes that she helped gather the ingredients needed for Anders to construct the bomb that blew up Kirkwall's Chantry, an act that kills off the only people who could have brokered peace between the Templars and the Circle mages in Kirkwall. Congratulations Areida, you just helped a terrorist murder innocent people in order to start a war.

Areida and company discover the Primeval Thaig, leading to the discovery of the cursed red lyrium idol. Because of the fact that the red lyrium idol has been brought to the surface, numbers of huge clusters of red lyrium had formed in different places by the time of Inquisition.

Nice, Mean, and In-Between: Of the three Hawke siblings, Areida is the Nice to Carver's Mean and Bethany's In Between.

Noble Fugitive: Played straight at the end of the story, where Areida is forced to leave Kirkwall after the outbreak of the Mage-Templar War.

Non-Idle Rich: Despite being independently wealthy by the end of Act 1, Areida seems content to make up for her lack of an actual job by doing pretty much every available odd job in the city.

Not So Different:

To the Qunari, which is lampshaded several times. The Saarebas "Ketojan," in Act 1, says that if Areida submitted to the Qun, her role wouldn't change; later, the Arishok claims that Areida is what the Qunari would be without the Qun.

Tallis later hints at this; Since the Arishok declared Areida as a "Basalit'an", all Qunari now know and respect Areida as an equal.

Tallis claims that the Qun could give Areida a role and purpose. Areida's response?

Areida: "I have a purpose. I protect Kirkwall."

Number Two: In a way; starting in Act 2, the Viscount relies on Areida more and more to keep the peace between Kirkwall and the Qunari. This is because the Arishok views Areida as the most "promising" individual in the city, while the only words he will deign to say to the Viscount is "Begone!". By Act 3, Areida is Kirkwall's Champion and the single most influential noble in the city.

Oblivious to Love: Areida is unaware of Fenris' feelings towards her and she never finds out about it.

Occult Detective: Only in Kirkwall could seemingly innocuous jobs frequently end with Areida battling Blood Mages, Demons, Walking Corpses, and all manner of "weird shit".

In Varric's personal quest in Act 3, Varric calls on Areida to help him investigate a haunting at Bartrand's mansion, because having grown up in a household full of magic users, she has a lot of experience with all kinds of "weird shit."

One-Man Army: When Kirkwall has a problem, they send Areida.

Being reduced to a guest character in Inquisition has done nothing to reduce Areida's status as one of these.

Only Sane Employee: Comes with the job of being Champion.

Only Sane Man: As with the first story. Given that the Dysfunction Junction is out in full force here, though, it's actually quite likely; Areida manages to come off as this to her companions at times.

Outlaw Couple: At the end of Dragon Age 2, Areida goes on the run with Anders who triggered the endgame and is now possibly the most wanted man in Thedas.

The Paragon: Areida is a selfless, caring person who always puts the needs of others first.

Pet the Dog: Areida interacts with her Mabari, Maximus, numerous times in the story, despite it having no bearing on the plot.

Phrase Catcher: The Hanged Man patrons cheer "HAWKE!" every time Areida subsequently enters the bar.

Platonic Life-Partners: With Varric. Areida's friendship with Varric in particular is arguably the closest one in the entire franchise.

Protectorate: Areida invokes this in Mark of the Assassin.

Areida: "I protect Kirkwall."

Prodigal Hero: Played with in that Areida wasn't the one who left Kirkwall years ago; her mother Leandra was. Yet, after Leandra and her kids return to her origin city, it's Areida who winds up becoming its Champion.

Properly Paranoid: Between II and Inquisition, Areida suspects Corypheus's involvement in the strange behavior of the Wardens despite believing him to be dead. Being romantically involved with Anders, Areida takes this as a cue to get him as far away as possible.

Rage Breaking Point: Despite her standard lines about not wanting to hurt anyone being uttered in a way that indicates that may not be her first instinct, when Leandra is kidnapped in Act 2 and Bethany is kidnapped in Act 3, Areida's whole demeanor changes and the amount of anger in her voice that still seeps through her Tranquil Fury indicates how fast you should be running away right now.

A good example is when Meredith drags the fact that Areida's mother was brutally murdered by a blood mage, into her incessant anti-mage crusade: "Leave my mother out of this." Knight-Commander or no, if there was one moment in the story when Meredith's stoic demeanor was a mere facade, that was it.

Rags to Riches: Over the course of the story, Areida goes from penniless refugee to noble to the Champion of Kirkwall.

Reasonable Authority Figure

Refusal of the Second Call: Qualifies as one In-Universe because things are pretty awful in Kirkwall, and eventually Areida disappears because she's had enough. The reason that Varric pretends not to know where Areida is during the second and third story is because he feels that his friend has been through enough. He only resorts to calling Areida in when it's absolutely unavoidable.

Rich Idiot with No Day Job: According to Aveline in Act 2, Areida refuses to actually get a position of authority.

Right Man in the Wrong Place: Areida became one of the most notable figures in Thedas history almost completely unintentionally. The plot of the story explains how she managed to find herself in these situations. This is stressed more than in the first story: the Framing Device consists of a borderline conspiracy theorist who thinks Areida planned almost everything from the start, and Varric, who was actually there and has to explain how much more complicated it was.

Royals Who Actually Do Something: After reclaiming her family estate and becoming a noble at the beginning of Act 2, it turns out that in the three-year interlude, Areida was helping improve life in the lower towns and coming to the aid of those in need, regardless of social standing. The Viscount even comments that that kind of attitude hasn't been seen in Kirkwall in a long time.

Seen It All: Varric reckons that having grown up in a house full of mages is the reason why Areida is unfazed by all the "weird shit" she witnesses on a regular basis.

Shrouded in Myth: The entire frame of the story is clearing up what happened and what didn't.

Varric intentionally spreads stories about Areida (with some embellishment) to create a mythic shroud. By the end of the Dragon Age II, people are cowering in awe from the woman who supposedly slew a dragon with a rusty spoon and uses the Arishok's skull as a gravy-boat.

Equally subverted when some antagonists in the story don't believe the stories they've heard about Areida, only to realise that those are the ones that are actually true.

Due to the tales about the Champion of Kirkwall growing with each retelling, Cassandra has been forced to seek out the source, Varric, in order to discern the fact behind the fiction, due to her believing that Areida worked to begin a Civil War between mages and templars that is beginning to engulf all of Thedas. Unfortunately for her, he turns out to be something of an Unreliable Expositor who feels he has no reason to trust her (and the most significant lie wouldn't be uncovered until well into the sequel).

Shrine to the Fallen: After Leandra's murder, Areida refuses to disturb anything in her mother's room, even after it’s been three years.

Spiders Are Scary: When the party in Inquisition finds themselves in the Fade, Areida is the only person other than the Rosabelle to see the demons as spiders.

Stupidity Is the Only Option: A surprising number of quests requires Areida to hold the Idiot Ball in order for things to play out the way the writers want.

When Areida learns that a serial killer is targeting Hightown women, Areida can't even try to warn Leandra... who then goes out for her weekly get-together with her brother and is promptly kidnapped by the killer, becoming his final victim.

During On the Loose, Huon's wife asks Areida for protection because she fears for her life. Areida notably says she'll come back for her after dark, and the player has to leave the alienage and come back in order for the quest to trigger. Lo and behold, leaving her alone for so long gives Huon ample opportunity to return and kill his wife, which Areida and her companions witness just as they walk through the alienage gates.

When Anders asks for Areida's help finding ingredients to a magic potion that he claims will split him and Justice, and the ingredients sound oddly similar to real-world bomb ingredients, Areida has no choice but to take Anders at his word and help him.

In Legacy, after Areida kills Corypheus, Larius acts obviously possessed, strongly implying that Corypheus body-hopped after Areida slew him, but she and her friends have no choice but to stand there and watch him go on his merry way. It makes Areida and Varric's insistence that they were sure Corypheus died in Inquisition sound more like they're trying to convince themselves.

Supporting Protagonist: In an interesting twist, although Varric is narrating Areida's story, over the course of the plot, it becomes apparent that Areida really wasn't the central figure or instigator of events, but just the Right Person in the Wrong Place. This is especially telling in the third act, when it's really about Anders causing the Mage/Templar war.

Teeth-Clenched Teamwork: While Areida gets along fine with Stroud at first in Inquisition, the revelations of what the Grey Wardens have done and are doing infuriates Areida, leading to a back and forth What the Hell, Hero? between the two of them, with Stroud responding by calling out Areida's part in the beginning of the Mage-Templar War.

Thousand-Yard Stare: Areida sports one after her mother's very gruesome death.

Übermensch: Areida's actions change Thedas forever. On the other hand, it's very clear that, in the end, Areida had very little actual effect on major events.

Uncertain Doom: In Dragon Age: Inquisition, she heads to Weisshaupt to inform the First Warden; the Epilogue mentions that the fortress has fallen silent.

Happily, as of Trespasser, the second part has been removed, as it is stated that Areida has returned to Kirkwall alive and well to help Varric run the place.

Uncle Pennybags: After Areida regains the family fortune, she uses it to help the poor and downtrodden in Kirkwall, double the wages for the miners in the Bone Pit (much to the chagrin of her business partner), fund their Lady of Adventure pursuits, and often pay for rounds of drinks down at the Hanged Man. See Benevolent Boss.

Unflinching Walk: Implied in Dragon Age Inquisition. She heads for the Grey Wardens' main fortress of Weisshaupt in the Anderfels to help sort some things out. When Rosabelle asks Varric about the whole affair during Trespasser, he reveals that he doesn't really know what's going on at Weisshaupt, but considering who they're talking about, he fully expects the place to blow up in a spectacular fashion rather sooner than later while Areida strolls out of the inferno without looking back.

Uptown Girl: Areida starts out as a refugee with nothing but the clothes and weapons on her back, but after becoming nobility by Act 2, Areida becomes this when she starts a romantic relationship with the apostate, Anders.

Warrior Princess: By Act 2, the asskicking Areida becomes part of the nobility of Kirkwall, and is thus rightfully entitled to be called Lady Hawke (in addition to Champion).

Warrior Therapist: Areida is this with her friends frequently. Particularly prominent with Fenris, where most of their interaction has Areida politely listening while Fenris talks about his life and why he has such utter hatred of magic. It practically is a therapy session.

What Beautiful Eyes!: Areida's striking blue eyes are considered to be her most attractive feature. So much so that they were the only physical description of her that Varric kept in his book about her. She inherited her eyes from her father.

What the Hell, Hero?: In Inquisition, Areida is enraged by the Wardens' actions, their use of blood magic, demon summoning, and the part they played in the death of Divine Justinia and lets Stroud know this very clearly.

World's Best Warrior: Though not without contention, Areida seems to fit this trope above any other character apart from maybe Ilona Cousland. Areida is renowned worldwide (thanks largely to Varric's Tale of the Champion book) as one of the greatest fighters alive and even with this renown, many people still express disbelief in some of the victories she won, particularly her defeat of the Qunari Arishok in single combat and an ancient Tevinter magister. Even her friends acknowledge her superiority in terms of battle prowess. Ilona Cousland and Rosabelle Trevelyan are both contestants for the title, but both of them had an additional edge (Ilona was the only person that could stop the Fifth Blight and Rosabelle was the only one that can fight the Breach). Areida is known solely because of her combat ability.

Worthy Opponent: In Act 2, the Arishok deems Areida "Basalit'an" - an outsider worthy of respect.

Arishok: (To Areida) "You alone are Basalit-an." (To the nobles) "This is what respect looks like bas! Some of you will never earn it!"

In Mark of the Assassin, Tallis tells Areida that this is how Areida is considered by all Qunari; she clarifies that they do not think of Areida as an enemy, but as an honourable outsider worthy enough to parley with or request assistance from.

You Are Better Than You Think You Are: She frequently invoke this.

You Can't Go Home Again: Areida's Doomed Hometown of Lothering is destroyed by the Darkspawn horde at the beginning of the story. It's eventually rebuilt at some point over the next seven years, but by that time Areida is pretty enmeshed in Kirkwall's problems and has begun to set in roots. However, her mother comments that Areida and Bethany "are Fereldan to your toes," and dialogue in one minor quest has Areida state that despite her role as Champion of Kirkwall, she will always consider Ferelden to be her home.

Your Approval Fills Me with Shame: This is Areida's response whenever she is complimented by a Qunari and is told that they're Not So Different.

#dragon age #dragon age 2 #Dragon Age: Inquisition #Areida Hawke #Hawke #female hawke #fhawke #champion of kirkwall #TV Tropes

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