#anders whole thing being he refused to tell them his real name and so they just called him 'the ander' and it got shortened to anders | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

misscricket · 4 years

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Canders

Oh @stark-illerbase, let me take you on a journey...

Anders and Carver don’t like each other in Act 1 of Dragon Age II. That’s putting it mildly. Carver is a young man probably suffering from PTSD, grieving over his twin sister and struggling with the new life his brother and mother are pursuing. He strongly identifies as a Fereldan, hence the tattoo he got at Ostagar being a mabari, and he sees his mother trying to recapture the Amell name and legacy as almost a rejection of the Hawke lifestyle back in Lothering. As to the PTSD, not only did he see his beloved Twin sister get crushed by an Ogre right in front of his eyes, he was also at the Battle of Ostagar. He had to be dragged away from the battle by his fellow soldiers and told to run for it, or else he would have stayed, and fought and died right there, so determined was he to protect his country and family.

“ Said he wanted to protect his family. That someone had to, because his father had died and, well you know how the Champion turned out. Carver took it real serious...” (World of Thedas Vol 2)

Along with a love of using a sword, this was Carver’s motivation for signing up with the army, the Blight was threatening his home, and his family, and he saw it as his duty to protect them.

“The more ground we lost, the harder he swung that plank of a sword of his. He was shouting that we had to win, that it was to keep our homes safe. I swear he was crying when we finally tackled him, but damned if I’ll hold that against him. It took three of us to drag him to cover. I had to slap him back to his senses, to make him see that killing five, or ten, more ‘spawn wouldn’t matter. The wall was on us, and dying there wasn’t going to help anyone. I said if he wanted to do his family good, he’d get them safe. “ (World of Thedas Vol 2)

So he’s a bit of a prickleberry.

And then in comes Anders. Instantly he’s hyper focused on Carver’s brother, because Carver’s brother is a Mage. And Maker have mercy Carver has been hearing about the Mage plight for years. His whole bloody life actually.

He acutely understands the realities of living with an Apostate mage family, from the perspective of someone inside the family unit who doesn’t have magic himself. He couldn’t be too good at anything, or excel, because it drew attention. He wasn’t a Mage himself, but he too lived as an Apostate, in fear of drawing the Templars gaze.

And then Anders says,

Anders: I'm sorry about your sister. She sounds like a special girl.

Carver: Why? Because she was a mage?

Anders: (If Hawke is male) Your brother says she had a good heart. Being on the run never made her bitter. (If Hawke is female) Your other sister says she was a good person. That she never turned down a chance to help people.

Carver: Yes, yes. I'm sure the Chantry's got a shrine with her portrait on it.

Anders: I was trying to be nice.

Carver: Stick to surly. It works for you

And then this one

Anders: You don't like me, Carver?

Carver: I don't like you.

Anders: That's unfortunate. Hating someone just because they're a mage is a shameful thing.

Carver: I don't hate you because you're a mage. I hate you because you won't shut up about it.

Carver: Oppression this, templars that. I'd heard enough long before you.

Anders: Maybe it's time you put some thought into it.

To Anders, Carver looks like the sullen, angry, bitter brother of two Mages, resentful of their powers or perhaps, even, hating them because of them.

This isn’t the case. Carver bitches and moans about his siblings, but most of his gripes are familiar to anyone who has an older or over achieving sibling.

When there is a legitimate threat, Carver immediately steps between Hawke and danger. When Fenris snarls about Mages, Carver, unprompted, says.

Carver: You have a problem with my brother/sister, you have a problem with me.

It’s instantly protective, and it’s far from the only incident in the game. He continually worries whenever Hawke talks to Templars, or stirs up Mage trouble, not because he hates Mages but because he’s worried for Hawke.

Anders however can no longer seem to see greys, it’s all black and white for him. Either you’re for Mages and then you want wholescale freedom and down the Templar order, or you’re a Mage hater, and as good as a Templar.

Carver’s stance on Magic is actually one of the most subtle and nuanced in the game, if not the whole series. He understands the dangers on a level most people, who haven’t lived with unfettered magic, can’t understand. But he also understands the joys and love of those with magic, and doesn’t believe locking them up in the Circle to be the right thing, despite his potential choice to be a Templar.

So Carver and Anders...

Enemies to Lovers

The fit this trope beautifully. Even in Act 1 with surly Carver and judgy Anders. But throw in Carver either being a Templar, the thing Anders hates most in the world, or him being a Grey Warden, the organisation Anders rejected. Oh the potential for angry arguments and heated kisses.

They are not so ideologically opposed that I think they couldn’t understand each other I think, and I think if they actually hashed it out together they’d actually find a lot of common ground. It’s just whether they could get there without the prickles throwing them off course is the question...and no Carver isn’t the only prickly one.

Templar Carver

Carver joins the Templar order for two reasons.

1. His brother/sister hasn’t returned from the Deep Roads with the rest of the expedition. Bartrand has likely told him they’re all dead. That leaves him and his mother alone in the world, and Carver can’t get work. The Guards won’t have him because Aveline told them not to, and the other options are mercenary jobs or the Templars. He no longer has any mage siblings to worry about being caught, and he doesn’t have to disclose that he had Mages in his family if he doesn’t want to.

2. His namesake was a Templar. I think giving him his piece of his identity makes Carver interested in the order in a different way. Up until then they’ve kind of been the boogeymen of the Hawke children’s lives. ‘Be good or a Templar will get you’. But his father named him after a Templar, ‘skill thoughtfully applied’. There was some value to that path. And you can’t tell me that Carver wasn’t, in many ways, his family’s personal Templar. If Bethany or Hawke had fallen...would another Mage have been able to stand against them? They would have needed a swordsman. Carver.

Anders thinks Carver has joined the Templars out of spite, or hatred. But there is a wonderful array of fiction you can have with Anders and the Order and the fact they are continually trying to hunt Anders down. Carver wouldn’t stand for it, if one of his brothers companions was threatened, and he certainly wouldn’t want him to be hurt, killed or made Tranquil, which would have been his fate should Meredith have gotten her hands on him.

Grey Warden Carver

As for the Grey!Warden path, Carver thrives as a Warden, he blossoms under that structure and purpose where Anders did not. But they have the connection of Anders having been the one to beg Stroud to take him, to put him through the Joining.

We also know that Carver knows Nathaniel, who was friends with Anders during Awakening. This likely means he knows a number of the Ferelden Wardens, and you can’t tell me they wouldn’t be curious about Anders.

Alternate Universes ideas I have toyed with writing

Tevinter - Mage Healer who refuses to use Blood Magic and the son of a powerful Mage house who doesn’t have magic himself.

Special Agents AU - Agent Hawke and Anders have a turbulent relationship because the boy always comes back hurt.

Coffee Shop AU - Anders is an overworked and exhausted Doctor. Carver is his caffeine supplier.

Werewolf AU - Alpha Carver learns that being dominant doesn’t always mean barking orders, and Omega Anders learns that brooding wolves are definitely better lovers.

Mirror Universe - What it says on the box...darkfic.

Angel AU - Carver is Anders’ guardian Angel, and he grumbles about it a lot. He also keeps losing his feathers everytime he swears, and it makes Anders laugh at him.

and many many more.

To close out this rambling dissertation on the beauty that is Canders (praise be)

Enjoy this lovely fanart drawn by the talented @frikadeller in a commission for @autumnyte-old

Case closed!

#Carver Hawke #Anders #Dragon Age #Canders #Rambling Ramble

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goth-surana · 3 years

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Hope and Hopelessness Chapter 4

Chapter 4 of 7(?)

Main pairing: Anders/Male Hawke

Main tags: Angst with a happy ending, tranquil!Anders, cure for tranquility

Summary: After some time on the run with Hawke, Anders is caught and made tranquil. Hawke cannot bring himself to kill him, instead chasing a distant hope that there may be a cure.

Read on AO3 or below the cut

Hawke was on his last fucking legs when the letter arrived. More dead ends, more people recognizing them and therefore more fights

The inquisition was handling some amount of the chaos in the world, but enough was left that Hawke and Anders still had to make their way through.

Hawke wished they could still be helping the rebel mages from afar, but now they were too concerned with their own survival. Now Anders was practically defenseless. Sure, he still knew how to swing a staff as a weapon, but he was no longer the powerhouse he used to be without his magic.

Hawke used to get frustrated with Justice a lot, but now he missed the bastard. He may have worked Anders to the bone, may have been somewhat unreasonable, but by the Maker had he protected Anders. Hawke didn’t have to worry so much, knowing Justice was there.

When the messenger found them Hawke almost punched her in the face. She moved too quickly, too silently.

“I’m a friend!” the scrawny elf said after she deftly avoided Hawke. “Tethras sent me.”

She handed Hawke the letter, and scurried off without a word.

Hawke opened the letter and what was inside stole his breath away.

“We found a cure. I’ll grant you safe passage to Skyhold.”

Hawke’s hands went numb holding that letter, his eyes fixed on that first sentence.

It couldn’t be real. It. It couldn’t…

Hawke made it to a back alley before his knees gave out and he sank to the ground. His hands shook, his shoulders shook as he began to cry.

There was hope. There was a way to bring his love back.

“Hawke?” Anders asked. “What has upset you?”

Hawke just shook his head, unable to stem the flow of tears. He had stopped crying so long ago, and now that he started again he couldn’t seem to stop.

Anders waited patiently for him, standing passively. Eventually Hawke stopped crying long enough to speak.

“We’re going to Skyhold.”

Anders regarded him for a moment. “Okay.”

Hawke stood on shaking legs, then stared at Anders. He looked into his vacant eyes and thought about how they would be once more filled with emotion and anger and laughter, full of everything that made Anders himself.

There was hope. Hawke hadn’t been needlessly torturing Anders every day, hadn’t been prolonging his suffering for nothing. Hawke had made the right choice.

On the first night of their journey to Skyhold, Anders had figured out the contents of the letter.

“There is a cure,” he said simply.

“…why do you think that?” Hawke hadn’t been sure how Anders would react. Would he resist?

“Because of your emotional reaction to the letter. You have not cried like that in some time. I thought at first that you were given evidence of an inability to cure tranquility, but were that the case you would have killed me when we were away from sight.”

“You… you were going to let me kill you?” Hawke asked.

“I was not certain you would. The news would have to be either of a cure or of the absence of a cure to cause your reaction. If I ran from you I would likely die. But if I stayed with you there was a small possibility I would not die.”

Hawke just shook his head. Even after all this time, Anders’ blank deductions broke his heart just a tiny bit more. Only now there was an end in sight.

“You’re not going to resist?” Hawke asked. “I thought you were fine being tranquil.”

“I am,” said Anders, “but you are not. If I stay with you, you will force me to go through with the cure. If I run, I will die. I am skeptical about this cure you speak of, but I do not want to die.”

Another blow to Hawke’s heart. But Anders was right. No matter what Anders’ feelings on the matter were now, Hawke would make sure he was cured. He remembered what Karl described tranquility as, knew Anders could never truly be happy in such a state.

Before Hawke would have said he would never force Anders to do anything. Anders’ whole life had been full of others forcing their will upon him, Anders deserved to be free…

But not this time. This was Hawke’s breaking point, and he was making this decision for Anders.

They didn’t talk much during the rest of the journey. Hawke wondered if Anders was nervous about being cured, if he was even capable of nervousness.

Hawke didn’t know how he felt right now. It wasn’t happy, not yet. He wouldn’t be happy until he saw Anders returned to him. Until then, he was… hopeful. That too was a foreign feeling after so long. Hawke may have refused to give up hope completely, but he had been living with so little of it that it couldn’t be felt.

Skyhold was incredible, massive and daunting. Hawke and Anders both covered their heads with cloaks, it was still a secret that they were coming here. Many here would see Anders dead, so Hawke was content with the secrecy.

How many of those people also wished him dead, he wondered? Fewer, he knew. While he was an outlaw, a strange tale of a hero still followed him. Hawke found that strange, because he made it clear he supported Anders. Hawke doesn’t even know if he would have stopped him if he knew about the chantry… it was an awful thing, but wasn’t Kirkwall full of awful things? Hawke had done many awful things… with far less noble intentions.

Varric’s tales of Hawke as a hero had overwritten his past as a scoundrel, it seemed. A very affable scoundrel, but a scoundrel nonetheless. Hawke knew Varric’s stories also portrayed Anders in a positive light, despite how angry he was. But that wasn’t enough to sway public opinion. Why was that, Hawke wondered? Was it just easier to hate a mage, easier to love a man born from noble blood?

If Hawke could, he would take all the hate for Anders onto himself. He played no small part in the escalation of the violence in Kirkwall, although Varric tended to omit those parts. Hawke fought the bloody night commander at every turn, and probably had some hand in making her paranoid enough to try to annul the Circle.

It was no use dwelling on the past. Could there have been a peaceful solution to the monster that was Kirkwall? Probably not, in Hawke’s opinion. Others might say different, and maybe they were right, but Hawke was a jaded man. He had just seen too much.

An inquisition soldier met Hawke and escorted him and Anders through the stone halls. The young man was clearly nervous, knowing who he led.

They came to an imposing set of doors, and were let into a wide room with a large table in the center. Chairs surrounded the table, and Varric sat in one. Hawke caught his friend’s eye and wished he could muster a smile. He hadn’t seen Varric in a long time.

Next to Varric sat a woman who must be the Inquisitor herself. Whatever Hawke expected, this was not it.

It wasn’t that the woman was Tal-Vashoth, it wasn’t that she was a mage. He had thought she would be imposing in her stature, and maybe she was at her full height. But right now she was leaning on one elbow, long brown hair falling across her shoulders as she looked up at Hawke with sad, tired eyes.

Hawke recognized that look, it was the look of someone who needed a fucking break.

“Champion,” she said, smiling slightly. There was something familiar in her appearance, in her coloring and her ice-blue eyes.

The woman stood and walked over to Hawke, extending a hand. Hawke had been right before, she was more imposing at her full height. Hawke and Anders were by no means short, but she was at least a head taller.

“Rosalind Adaar,” she introduced herself, shaking Hawke’s hand.

Oh, Hawke realized. She was the daughter of the Tal-Vashoth couple that had saved his and Anders’ lives. The world had an odd way of playing jokes on him.

Hawke was about to respond, when the world decided it would be even funnier. The doors burst open, and in walked Cullen Rutherford.

Hawke barely had time to balk before he was speaking.

“Adaar, what is the meaning of this? Varric sent for Hawke?” He asked incredulously.

“You knew!” Came a new voice, a woman’s voice. She was tall, carried herself like a warrior and had short black hair.

“You lied to me! You always knew where the Champion was.”

“Why is-“ Cullen began, and then his eyes landed on Anders. The man’s expression turned to shock.

Hawke stepped in front of him, holding out a protective hand.

“Don’t get any ideas!” Hawke snarled. “We were promised safe passage by your inquisitor.”

What in the Maker’s name was Cullen bloody Rutherford doing here, and why hadn’t Varric told him? It seemed Varric was lying to quite a few people these days.

“Cool it, Curly,” said Varric, getting up from his chair. “He’s telling the truth, Sunflower promised they would both be safe here.”

Hawke presumed “Sunflower” referred to the Inquisitor. Varric seemed to have a thing against calling anyone by their name, excluding Hawke. Hawke had always wondered if it was because his name already sounded like a description.

“No!” The woman exclaimed in surprise. “Do not tell me… if that is the Champion, the man with him-“

“Is under my protection,” Adaar cut in firmly, her arms crossed. “I am Andraste’s chosen, am I not? That’s what you always say.”

The way she said that and the look she gave the woman spoke of some backstory there. An old argument.

“I will not allow this inquisition to shelter that murderer!” The woman responded.

“My inquisition,” Adaar said. “You keep telling me it’s my call to make, that I need to step up as the leader. Well I’m bloody doing it now, and I extended my protection to Hawke and Anders.”

The woman was about to reply when Anders took his hood off, probably because it was obvious now who he was.

“You’re tranquil…” the woman said. “I had not heard that. You could have told me that, Inquisitor. I would not have objected to his being here as much as I do now.”

Hawke wanted to punch that woman. She sounded relieved, relieved that Anders wasn’t dangerous. Wasn’t that how everyone saw mages? The rest of Thedas liked to pretend they weren’t the Qunari, but “dangerous thing” was all that mages were to them.

“Cassandra…” Adaar said calmly, but tiredly. “He won’t be tranquil for long. I’m testing out the cure.”

“You wish to return this murderer to his full power?!” Cassandra almost yelled. “Inside our base! Inside all we have worked to build!”

“I wish to return this man to his mind,” said Adaar. “Does his being tranquil make you feel safe, Seeker?” Adaar practically sneered. The two women may be coworkers, but something was clearly bubbling under the surface.

“Of course it does,” replied Cassandra, “you know well what he is capable of.”

“The same as I’m capable of,” said Adaar. “Same as any mage. Would it make you feel safer if I was tranquil too?”

Hawke felt he should really not be in the middle of this. He had clearly walked right into a storm.

“I have never begrudged you for what you are! You are the Inquisitor, and I have always respected you as such.” Cassandra shot back.

This only made Adaar’s face grow darker. “I am a mage, Cassandra. I have always been a mage, always will be a mage, even if you refuse to acknowledge it.”

“I do not see you as merely a mage!” Cassandra responded, frustrated.

“You don’t see me as a mage at all!” Adaar raised her voice, clearly some deep frustration boiling over. “Say it Casandra, say I’m a mage because it’s what I fucking am! I know none of you want to see it, none of you want to reconcile that you work for a mage, I know you think I’m different, but I’m not! I’m just like the others! If you’re so happy with fucking tranquility then brand me right now, because every mage you feel glad is tranquil is me. We are the same!”

Cassandra took a step back, still angry but somewhat stunned. “I would never wish you tranquil.”

“Every mage you hurt is me!” Adaar replied, tears forming at the corners of her eyes. “None of you see it because you’re all so busy pretending I’m not a mage! Do you know what Sera said to me the other day?”

Adaar almost laughed, but clearly she was miserable.

“I know you and Sera don’t always see eye to eye-“ Cullen began, raising a placating hand.

“She was worried, because of my training as an arcane warrior, that I was becoming like them! Like other mages! Dangerous things…”

Tears fell from Adaar’s eyes. “I’m sick of it. You all say you respect me but do you respect what I am?”

Cassandra had no answer for that. She looked taken aback, and tried to regain control of the conversation.

“This-“ she pointed to Anders, “is an important matter. You still let a murderer into Skyhold-“

“We’re all bloody murderers!” Adaar snapped. Then she took a deep breath and steadied herself. “… I’ve made my decision as Inquisitor. You may inform the inner circle but no one else. Leliana already knows.”

She sounded so very tired, as tired and full of hurt as Hawke was now accustomed to feeling.

Cassandra left in huff, storming from the room. Cullen made to leave as well, when Adaar stopped him.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Cullen.”

“Adaa- Rosalind, please don’t think I would ever want you tranquil…”

The man looked genuinely hurt. What a joke, Hawke thought to himself. This monster had stood by when dozens of mages were made tranquil. Something was clearly different about Cullen now though, especially as the Inquisitor didn’t actually look mad at him.

“I don’t think you do,” Adaar assured him, “I don’t think any of you do… and you know, you actually see me as a mage. I don’t have to be someone I’m not around you… so thank you.”

“I know that has been a source of contention between us in the past…”

“What we fought about was better than the silence I get from the others,” Rosalind huffed. “And you know we’re past that. I know you were a Templar and I recognize that about you, you know I am an apostate and you recognize that about me. You’re my friend, Cullen.”

Hawke must be fucking dreaming. Cullen, friends with an apostate? This Rosalind woman was showing him genuine charitability… she must not know who he was. Hawke filed that away for later in his mind, but didn’t voice anything. It wasn’t his business, he didn’t know these people. He was here for the cure, nothing else.

Well… he had agreed to help them with Corypheus, that was part of the exchange. Before he hadn’t thought of that as his responsibility, he had already tried his hand at killing the bastard. But the inquisition’s spymaster still wanted his take on the situation.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, Champion,” Adaar said. “I am… not at my best, currently.”

“Don’t worry,” Hawke replied, “I’m not either. And just call me Hawke. Kinda got sick of the whole “Champion” thing.”

Adaar chuckled. “I can relate. I’ve spent so long being the Inquisitor now, it’s hard to remember being myself. Rosalind, Roz, Adaar…even Sunflower, those all suit me better.”

The room was silent for a moment after, all present acknowledging how tired they all were. Thankfully, Cullen left. Hawke breathed a sigh of relief. Cullen may be different now, but Hawke didn’t trust him around Anders. Hawke still remembered his words back in Kirkwall, his actions back in Kirkwall.

“How do we cure Anders?” Hawke asked the room. This nightmare needed to be over soon.

“Right,” said Adaar, giving her head a small shake. “It turns out that the Seekers of Truth have known the cure for tranquility for some time now. They… they kept it from the world…”

Adaar’s eyes were brimming with tears again, she looked furious.

“The Seekers that you’ve been working with,” Hawke pointed out.

Adaar smiled sardonically, wiping a tear from her cheek. “Cassandra didn’t know… but those above her did. I’m… I’m so sick of this place, honestly, but I’m too involved to leave. I have too much power at my disposal to leave, I have the power to help mages.”

The conviction in her voice was so painfully familiar. Hawke smiled at the woman. Adaar continued to explain.

“To cure the tranquil, a spirit must touch their mind. The problem is convincing a spirit to do that, so a spirit healer is needed.”

“And you have one?”

“Not yet, but Leliana sent for Commander Surana.”

“Surana’s a spirit healer?” Hawke asked, startled. The woman hadn’t seemed to have much of a knack for healing. Hawke’s shoulder remembered that.

“Leliana said she learned on the battlefield,” said Varric, easily sliding into his role as storyteller. “So her methods were… unconventional and untrained.”

“But she can connect with a spirit of the Fade,” came a new voice. Entering the room was a red-haired woman that Hawke knew must be Leliana.

“And,” the woman continued, “my beloved is willing to make the connection to help her dear friend. She should be arriving tomorrow.”

“We will be safe for the night?” Hawke asked, frowning.

“As long as you are under my protection, no one will touch you,” Adaar said firmly.

“Why are you doing this for us?” Hawke asked, trying and failing to let his guard drop for even a minute. The world was cruel, they shouldn’t keep meeting people who were kind. First they met Adaar’s kind parents, and how she was going out of her way to help.

“It’s the right thing to do,” Adaar told him. “Anders started something incredible, something I never thought I’d see in my lifetime. Ever since I was a girl I’d known that tranquility would likely be my fate were I ever caught… thanks to him, there is a future where the next little Vashoth mage grows up without that fear. Where every mage has a family like I did.”

Leliana spoke next. “My feelings on his actions may be complicated, but he has allowed the dream of my beloved to come true. Adaar and I want to build a world without Circles, where people like my Regan will never be caged again.”

“And,” Varric added quietly, “… people care about him. He was a good friend.I wasn’t just gonna let him stay like this, and Commander Surana wasn’t either. You know, Hawke, you don’t have a monopoly on caring for Anders.”

Varric chuckled while he said it, but the sincerity in his voice brought tears to Hawke’s eyes.

“I…” Hawke said, making sure he kept his composure. “I suppose I just got used to being his only protector.”

“And you’ve done your job,” Varric assured Hawke. “You brought him here. Now let the rest of his friends and supporters handle it. We’ll bring him back to you.”

Hawke took a sharp breath, covering his face as he began to cry. This was real. This was happening.

#handers #anders/male hawke #anders/hawke #m!handers

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malgal7777 · 3 years

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Hiking with Tracy 2021: Weekend 3, the Lost Weekend

As I went back to re-read my blog I noticed I had cut off my WHOLE weekend of 4/17!! This is my 20 mile walk from the Emeryville Marina to the Richmond Marina and back via the Bay Trail along the water & Hwy 80. So let me try to reenact my journey!

The theme of this hike was “Don't tell me this town ain't got no heart, you just gotta poke around” - Once again I tip my hat to the great Jerry Garcia. Not sure if you all figured it out, but I love Jerry. I came to the Bay Area to follow the Grateful Dead’s music and I never left.

This particular hike was absolutely beautiful. I wish it wasn’t so I can mix this blog up, but sorry folks, you live in a beautiful area. Even along a dirty highway, there are things of beauty all around you. Take for example this hike, wildflowers everywhere. Even popping out of the sidewalk. I'm reminded of Jeff Goldblum’s character in Jurassic Park...”Life refuses to be contained...it just finds a way”. And sure enough, Sunflowers out of the sidewalk!

Since I was next to a highway, I went with headphones this time around. One of my positives during this pandemic is my rekindled love for music radio stations. I love listening to a radio station and I definitely have my favorite DJ’s. My personal favorites this past year were: WWOZ - a local New Orleans station; KCSM - a Bay Area jazz station and KXT - out of Dallas, TX. These stations literally kept me sane during the lockdowns. I highly recommend them, especially if you’re cooking, doing chores or working in the garden.

This particular morning I went with WWOZ. And what a good decision that was. Ron Phillips was spinning his favorite Saturday morning tunes and I was going down the road feeling BAD (as in good)! Irma Thomas, Anders Osborne, The Subdudes and a little known singer/songwriter out of New Orleans, Chris Smithers. If you get overwhelmed and about to burst...stream Chris Smithers “Let it Go”. So funny. Anders Osborne is a name my friends have been trying to get me into for a long time. And I’m a bozo, definitely missed the boat on this one! From his new album, try this song: Welcome to Earth.

Ok, so I digress! Back to the walk. In one of my last posts, I mentioned the people I meet. Well this am was a doozy! As I was grooving to the sweet sounds of the Crescent City I was approached by a group of ladies. They had a question for me: What’s more important in a relationship: Love or Economics? My first response was “Wow, you ladies don’t mess around for a Saturday morning! Going deep on me”. But, because I’m me, I had an answer. Now usually I would have said Love, Love, Love. Hands down right? But they caught me at a weird time. I have been obsessively thinking of a comment I overheard from another group of ladies while doing my Diablo hike. One of them had commented “I have no desire to marry just for love. Forget that, I need to be economically stable”. My reaction was pity for this poor girl. I literally felt sorry for her. The more I thought about it (obsessively for two weeks) I came to realize, she didn’t necessarily say she wasn’t going to work, she just wanted someone with their shit together and would contribute to their family being comfortable. What’s wrong with that? Is being comfortable taboo now? So when my Bay Trail friends asked me, that’s how I answered. Love was great but there’s nothing wrong with wanting to be comfortable, isn’t that love after all? I obviously made one of the women very happy. She loved it. The other two nodded and smiled, they were on Love’s side. So we said our goodbyes and I felt like I had gotten a weight off my shoulders. As I was walking away though...I asked myself...But didn’t YOU marry for love? And sure enough, I did. Bob & I didn’t have a pot to piss in. And while we’re not the Rockefeller's, we’re comfortable enough for us. I love him dearly and love has to be the basis that you build your financial future upon. If you don’t have that, it get’s ugly when $$ is involved. The best part of this moment was that song “Welcome to Earth” was playing as I was coming to this realization and the last line is literally “Love is always the answer”. The Universe works in mysterious ways! But, where were the ladies...I wanted to change my answer??!! No where to be found. Man, I blew it. I would now obsessively think about this for the next 20 miles. Told you I was a bozo.

By this time I had reached The Albany bulb. A Bay Area gem to the north of Golden Gate Fields. There’s a great beach and then it jets out into a peninsula which is covered with art installations all over. I’ll talk more about that later, since I came back on Sunday to finish my 25 miles. This morning though I watched a group of swimmers about to enter the freezing bay waters, no wet suit mind you! CRAZY and No Thank You! Brrr. Next Stop, Point Isabel, dog heaven. A large open spaced off-leach dog park. I go there all the time. If you have a dog, you should take them. They will love you even more than they already do.

Now past Point Isabel is where the trail gets interesting. You start to wander away from the highway and are now among the prettiest beaches and marshes. It’s an interesting view of the Bay Bridge and you can no longer see the Golden Gate Bridge as you veer north of it. You now start to come upon single family homes along the trail. You’re instantly reminded of Cape Cod. A ocean view from Richmond, CA. The best part is once you see this neighborhood you know you’re close to the marina. And sure enough, I turned the bend and there in front of me was the Ford Assembly plant, my 1/2 way point. But, it’s a very cruel joke. You see the plant across the opening of the marina, it’s literally right there!! Then the realization hits you in order to get to it you need to go around the WHOLE marina. And as you continue to walk and go around another bend, the sidewalk gets longer and longer and longer. The Richmond Marina is HUGE. Lovely though. Large green spaces with people doing yoga; a ladies bootcamp class along the water; boats coming and going from the marina and two pretty cute restaurants also along the water.

I finally made it to the Ford Assembly Plant and now Richmond Ferry Terminal. The assembly plant hosts seasonal events, we’ve been to the women’s roller derby ones. Nothing like watching tough chicks bully each other on roller skates. Then there are a few businesses strewn throughout the building. Dolls Kill, which I believe is a clothing business for those on the freakier side of the spectrum. And Mountain Hardware! Quality clothing for the outdoorsy types. I should have gone in and gotten a windbreaker. The wind was pretty brutal.

The best part was of course the Rosie The Riveter museum. A museum dedicated to the women that left the kids at home and joined the workforce to help build ships during WWII. This whole area was built for the war effort. Richmond grew from 25,000 to over 100,000 within three years!!! Can you imagine? How does any town build the infrastructure needed to maintain that population? Grocery stores? Clothing? Schools? Highly recommended. It’s a suggested donation, so don’t be cheap, donate. You won’t be disappointed. I once brought Charlotte and a couple of her Girl Scout troop there to meet a real life “Rosie”. She told the girls her story and it was of course about LOVE! The trials and tribulations of her and her partner as he was fighting in the war and she was here making the ships that would keep him safe. Man, where were those 3 ladies!!

The way back was pretty much the same. I made it! Now onto Sunday, 4/18. The Albany Bulb! A Bay Area gem. Bob & I have been coming here for years. Way back when it was a landfill full of broken concrete slabs and rebar. Some artist types took it upon themselves to start living there. They kept the concrete slabs and rebar and started to make installations out of them. Giant sized figures; rows of wooden paintings; mazes and one guy even built a concrete castle along the water facing the Golden Gate Bridge. Best real estate in the Bay. They exemplified the phrase “one mans trash is another man’s treasure”. Of course the stuffed shirts got wind and kicked them out. But gave the stuffed shirts an idea...Hey, why not make a park out of this dirty unused lot? Duh. So before you harass your kid for taking art classes, remember it’s usually the artists who push the rest of society in the right direction.

It’s also a great place to bird watch and now the wildflowers are a blooming, so it’s quite serene. If you’re looking for some inspiration, this is the place for you.

So my posts/weeks are a bit out of order. Oh well! It’s my blog and I’ll create chaos if I want to!

I’ll end on this note: Love is ALWAYS the answer.

So sponsor me (hehehe): https://runsignup.com/tracyalbert/Donate

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doctorhawke · 4 years

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all six of my oc hawkes in one big thing, i have an au where they are all a big happy family and run amok in kirkwall

below the cut theres “brief” bios for them all (including their names because my renditions of their handwriting might not be very legible) and a little chart showing more insight into their personality makeup

all the ages are from act 1, after a year in kirkwall, relative to carver and bethany’s 20 (fyi they both survive in this au and both become grey wardens. cannot IMAGINE that any of these hawkes would let one of their littlest siblings fight an ogre 1v1 when theres literally eight of them lmfao they tag team it like they do everything)

steve hawke- he/him, age 27, adopted by the hawkes at 8. steve is a mage, a healer, and a pacifist. as such when there are fights he will focus on incapacitating enemies without harming them (force magic and mind blast comes in handy) and especially on supporting the team through healing. he’s gay and immediately takes to anders, mainly because he spends a lot of time helping in his clinic.

he strongly believes in mage rights especially as malcolm imparted a lot of responsibility on him towards his younger mage siblings, nyx and bethany. he’s protective and a bit of a worrier, though as time goes on in kirkwall he becomes more and more exhausted, and starts to cope through making light of things. post-game, he and anders are on the run.

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kit hawke- he/him, age 24, bio kid, and a dual-wielding rogue. he’s bold, charming, and a bit of a pessimist- all of which kirkwall amplifies by virtue of being a crazy fucking city. kit is also pretty business minded and usually spearheads bone pit related shenanigans. varric (who deeply cares for all the hawkes of course) immediately takes to him and the two are inseparable.

kit is bi, and likes to have fun, though over time he falls for both isabela and fenris, and over time the three get together and become the most impressive trio you ever saw. all kit’s siblings are kind of like “are you serious dude, we have a limited number of friends and you end up with two of them? what about the rest of us” but considering the amount of drama and heartbreak kit undergoes over the years in relation to his love life, they all kind of figure he’s earned the happy ending. post-game the three of them become pirates on isabela’s ship and free slaves in between tracking down hidden treasure or whatever it is that pirates do, and they eventually have adorable baby twins.

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syl hawke- she/her, age 26, bio kid but only leandra’s, she actually is varric’s half sibling (though she does NOT know this and the sibling rivalry that develops upon them meeting is incomprehensible to the both of them). so syl is the shortest of the bunch, and looks a lot more like varric and bartrand than kit, carver, or bethany, despite them all being related.

syl’s the only warrior of the group (other than carver- a dynamic duo), fights with hammers exclusively, and has a tendency to be super intense. she doesn’t really get humor at all, in the rare case that she accidentally makes a joke and people laugh she assumes they’re laughing AT her. she’s also very shoot first and ask questions later, and the only hawke more protective than steve is. her big sister energy is off the charts and she’s prepared to kill any templar that so much as looks at her family. as such she’s staunchly pro-mage.

she’s a lesbian and has massive game despite not really being any good at flirting- it’s probably her sheer intensity. she and isabela have a brief fling, tallis is very taken with her, and she has a rivalry-fueled sexual tension with aveline for ages (the long road is a VERY fun quest to play through with syl). however she was always very supportive of and close with merrill and eventually the two fall in love. once they’re together they’re insanely sweet and have mega chemistry and i love them so fucking much. post-game they’re forced to leave kirkwall but end up living in the denerim alienage.

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lith hawke- she/her, age 25, adopted by the hawkes at 9 along with her twin nyx. an archer rogue, with speed taking precedence over power or precision. lith is a lot to take in okay. she’s the only one who’s pro-templar in the group, and is a rabid andrastian. back home in lothering her chantry beliefs were instrumental in keeping her family safe, as she not only knew every templar by name (as the whole family did) but also is endlessly trustworthy to them and to all the chantry sisters and mothers. countless times a templar might have come calling to take away one of her siblings or her father, but was dissuaded by lith- after all, little lith hawke would NEVER help hide apostates, right?

she supports her siblings because she believes that in the end their souls will be saved. (the only thing that freaks her out more than nyx’s blood magic is when syl casually drops that she’s thinking about converting to merrill’s religion.) she doesn’t trust mages if they aren’t related to her, and always advocates for the circle when given the chance. she’s best friends with fenris and they hang out a lot, more and more as the years pass. since merrill and anders both move into the hawke estate (which was already a bit of a circus, can you imagine the chaos?) lith finds herself more and more outnumbered ideologically and often escapes to fenris’ mansion for some quiet.

during the endgame, she sides against her family and the mages. she basically has a villainous breakdown. she helps them kill meredith and once it’s revealed that meredith had been influenced by the lyrium idol, lith’s whole worldview is pretty much shattered. post-game she leaves the city and seeks out her cousin, ash amell (i have eight wardens so im not going to get into this but basically my amell and my cousland (eve) are in a gay throuple with leliana and its dope as all hell). spending time with ash, eve, and leliana is very healing for her, but all her siblings assume she’s dead and she doesn’t see them for years after kirkwall.

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nyx hawke- they/them, age 25, adopted by the hawkes at 9 along with their twin lith. nyx is the blood mage of the group, and is an absolute icon quite frankly. they’re very chaotic, and especially close with kit, merrill, and isabela. nyx has a ton of fun fighting, and they and syl make an especially good team in combat. nyx always looks up to syl and its very sweet, and syl is the only one in the family who never once messed up nyx’s pronouns (everyone is very good about this of course, and by kirkwall its a non-issue, but even lith slipped up once or twice early on).

they have very noodly arms because they’ve never had to worry about fighting hand to hand when running out of mana, because of the blood magic. this leads to quite a bit of teasing but tbh they pull it off. nyx is bi and has a thing with isabela for a short while but in the end they’re better as best friends.

nyx and lith are very close. they’re often perfectly in sync when doing things, especially in combat, and have that twin esp thing going on which can get spooky at times. however they also bicker a lot, and obviously clash on ideology pretty much constantly. though this is the norm nyx always assumed they would have each other’s backs no matter what when it came down to the nitty gritty, and lith’s betrayal during the endgame is really heartbreaking for them.

over the years anders and nyx do a lot of collaborating when it comes to mage rights. they help him polish his manifesto, and smuggle mages out of the gallows. the only real reason nyx isn’t brought into the loop on the chantry explosion was a mixtures of anders’ crushing guilt and his knowledge that if he told nyx and not steve, steve would be really hurt. (however he couldn’t tell steve because he didn’t want the deaths to be on steve’s conscience- anders knows he definitely would have helped if it came down to that). post-game nyx goes on to be one of the leaders of the mage rebellion.

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lou hawke- he/him, age 22, adopted by the hawkes at 10. hes a cowboy and i love him. an archer rogue, he prioritizes powerful firing over speed or precision. he’s a massive sweetheart, terminally polite, and has massive ears that he’s self-conscious of and tries to cover with his hair. however whenever his hair gets long enough to cover them leandra starts poking and prodding him to get a trim and he’s always too soft to refuse for long, beginning the cycle again (and after leandra is murdered he always keeps his hair to her liking- he gets weepy if it grows too long). he’s the only hawke i’ve drawn without his in-game outfit because this fucking game doesn’t have cowboy hats or cute shirts with tassles and i do what i want.

lou also plays instruments, he’s got a guitar and a harmonica and plays the piano passably. he IS the piano man in the eyes of the hanged man’s patrons. sing us a song, they tell him, etc. he manages ten minutes of harmonica in the deep roads, citing excellent acoustics, until anders tells him to stop because the darkspawn will hear. when the hawkes get rich lou buys a horse and goes for morning rides out on the wounded coast.

lou is bi, and runs around for years with a massive crush on isabela but that doesn’t exactly work out. he ends up with jethann (theres a lot of lore here but suffice it to say its extremely tender) and post-game they leave kirkwall and end up owning a ranch not far outside denerim. lou hires lots of farmhands that end up looking to him as a father figure and its super sweet, and jethann refuses to do manual labor.

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this got insanely long i am SO sorry flkjsdlkgjlkcxjglsfkd

feel free to send any asks relating to them because i really love this family so much and could talk about them forever dlfskjlxcjglskd if you couldnt tell from this diatribe

#six fanarts #six fanarts challenge #dragon age #dragon age 2 #custom hawke #hawke #steve hawke #kit hawke #syl hawke #lith hawke #nyx hawke #lou hawke #extended hawke family au #my art #my posts #oc lore

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haledamage · 5 years

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Pairing: Female Cousland/Nathaniel Howe

Story Summary: Cathain Cousland had been in love with Nathaniel Howe for as long as she can remember. It doesn’t take long after they reunite in Amaranthine to realize she still is.

Chapter Summary: Cait and her companions have their first real run-in with the Architect, and the plot against her comes to a head.

They found a pit full of bodies early the next morning. Humans, armored but weaponless. If they had had any doubt that the Dalish camp had been staged, they didn’t now. One of the bodies, just outside the pit, was still moving. Cait rushed over to him.

He was emaciated, looking more like a corpse than Justice, if only barely. Even if she hadn't recognized the bruise-like blemishes of the darkspawn taint, she would have felt the man in her blood. He didn't have long; even on the small chance that the Joining might save him, he wouldn't survive the trip back to the Vigil. His grip on her hand was crushingly strong even though his eyes couldn't focus on her face. In the halting, meandering manner of those lost to the taint, he confirmed the truth of their assumptions. The darkspawn killed both sides and baited the elven woman into her misdirected vengeance.

His hazy eyes snapped to Cait's, suddenly intense and focused. "The dark ones are curious about you too. They watch you as well as her. Can you feel them?"

"Always," Cait said solemnly. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you."

"Make… make an end… please," he pleaded, eyes not leaving hers.

"Find peace at the Maker's side, brother." She slid her blade between his ribs, quick, clean, and as painless a death as she could make it.

Her vision blurred, angry, frustrated tears brimming to the surface. She stubbornly refused to let them fall. Nathaniel’s hand fell on her shoulder, but she could barely acknowledge him. She just wanted to be done with this place. Find the Architect, or whoever he had sent to kill all these people, to leave this bloody message, and rip them to pieces. She would leave her rage in their ashes and not a moment sooner.

Later, when she feels more like herself, she’ll remember the pain and rage on Nate’s face, too, and the way he still remembered himself enough to look after her. She’ll be grateful for it, grateful for him, and will show him exactly how much she appreciates him, the best and only way she knows how.

But she couldn’t be that woman right now. The taint burned in her blood as darkspawn approached them, and fury solidified in her heart as something colder, harder. Her blade was already moving for the closest one as her body turned to follow it.

They ran into the Dalish woman twice more. Both times, she was unreceptive to conversation and angier than the last. Cait was getting really tired of fighting trees, especially after one of them gouged a thin, sharp branch through her thigh like a needle. Cleaning the bark out of the wound was even more painful than the injury itself and cost them too much time.

They finally cornered her back in the Dalish camp. She roared at Cait, a wordless, primal sound of frustration and futility. She seemed surprised that she wasn’t cowed by it. "You… you will never take me alive," she hissed.

Cait held her hands up away from her weapons, but she didn't stop walking forward. "I’m not going to kill you. I'm not here to arrest you. I just want to talk."

The Dalish woman laughed, harsh and humorless. "Talk, then."

"The humans didn't kill your people,” Cait said, trying to sound calm and not fooling anyone. “The darkspawn did. They killed the human soldiers and planted their weapons at your clan’s campsite.”

For the first time, the elvish woman’s hostile posture faltered. “What? That’s impossible. The darkspawn are mindless monsters.”

“Not anymore,” Cait shook her head slowly, “not all of them.”

“Then are you telling me the darkspawn took my sister?” She dropped her arms to her sides.

Cait dropped her arms too. “Yes. Most likely.”

“Why? Why would they do this?”

“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”

They stared at each other from less than a foot apart, a silent challenge passing between them. Neither of them blinked first, but the Dalish woman did eventually concede enough to say “Let me come with you.”

“Okay.”

“My name is Velanna, if you care for such things.” If she was surprised at how quickly Cait acquiesced, she didn’t show it.

“I’m Cathain. These are my friends,” she gestured at the others, standing far back from the standoff between the two women. She’d let them introduce themselves on their own time. “How well do you know this area? Are there any tunnels the darkspawn might be coming from?”

Velanna thought about it for a moment, before pointing deeper into the forest. “There is an abandoned mine some ways to the north. That would be the most likely place they are hiding.”

“Very well, then. Lead the way.”

The moment they stepped into the mines, Cait knew what was waiting for them there. The bad feeling she’d been carrying since they left the Vigil squirmed in her gut again. There was nothing good in this place.

It was her last thought before unconsciousness took her.

-------

The next thing Cait was aware of, she was strapped to a table. She tested the ropes at her wrists, but they held firm. The tallest darkspawn emissary she’d ever seen stood over her. It wore fine, gold and purple robes that were vastly different from the piecemeal and haphazard armor most darkspawn wore. Its eyes were covered by an intricate golden mask, but Cait could feel it watching her nonetheless.

“So you are the commander of the Grey Wardens,” it said in a hissing, sonorous voice.

Cait snarled at it, a barely human sound. “Where are my friends?”

“They are being tended to,” The Architect said. That’s who it had to be; her blood knew it even if they’d never met before.

“Tended to like I am?” She couldn’t move enough to look around the room, but she didn’t hear any familiar voices. Or any other voices at all, beyond her own and the Architect.

“I apologize for what I must do,” it said, and it almost sounded like it meant it. “I do not wish to be your enemy.”

“I don’t know if your kind have a god,” she snapped, straining at the ropes again, “but I hope you’ve made your peace with him.”

“Charming,” the Architect said, its composure slipping slightly. “Now is not the time for this. Rest.”

Cait didn’t know how long she was on that table. Her consciousness came and went in waves of pain and screaming and the smell of blood and the Architect, always the Architect, watching her, studying her, speaking to her in that slow, calm voice.

She woke up on the cold stone floor. Metal bars filled her vision and the air smelled like blood and hay and dust. Her head spun when she moved it to look around.

“She is awake,” Justice said softly, and Cait was so happy to hear his voice that she could have wept if she had the energy.

“Is everyone okay?” Cait’s voice was a broken rasp, lost to screaming.

“We’re not hurt and we’re all here,” Sigrun said from somewhere to her right.

“I think it kept just kept us here as leverage,” Anders scoffed. “In case you proved uncooperative.”

“I wasn’t conscious enough to be uncooperative,” she said, struggling to sit up. No one reached to help her, but she could feel how much they wanted to. Her whole body felt like it was on fire, pain lancing into her joints and behind her eyes and prickling like needles along her skin. “Maker, everything hurts. Does it look as bad as it feels?”

“You look lovely as ever,” Nathaniel said. She turned her head slowly toward him; his smile when their eyes met was heartbreaking. “Hi, Caitie.”

“Nate.” She reached for him, squeezed his hand as hard as she was able. “You’re a bad liar, love.” He made a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob and she pulled him close. It hurt to touch him but it hurt more not to. “Any plans on how we’re getting out of here? I’m open to suggestions.”

“I have a place you can start,” said an unfamiliar voice, and there was a scramble of motion in their little cell as everyone got to their feet. Cait was the last one standing, Nathaniel and Anders flanking her and keeping her from collapsing. There was an elven woman at the bars, dark-skinned and pale-haired and obviously Velanna’s missing sister. She showed signs of the taint, but her eyes were bright and alert.

Velanna reached her first, reaching through the bars for her sister. “Seranni! Oh creators, what have they done to you?”

Seranni took her sister’s hand and pat it in an affectionate and comforting way. “They haven’t done anything, Velanna. I’m fine. It’s not me he wants.” Her eyes met Cait’s as she finally made it to the bars. “I have to get you out of here. I don’t want anyone else to be hurt.”

“What does it want with me?” Cait asked, clenching her hands on the bars of their cell to hold herself up without help.

“I don’t know,” said Seranni. “I don’t know anything. I just know you need to hurry.” There was a sound father into the tunnels and she looked over her shoulder, an edge of panic in her eyes.

“Come with us, Seranni! Let me take you home!” Velanna tried to keep a hold on her sister, but Seranni slipped a key into her sister’s hand and then stepped away.

She shook her head sadly at her sister. “You have to go, Velanna. Please.” There was another sound, closer than the last, and then voices. Seranni looked once more at her sister, then at Cait, and then she was gone.

“Seranni, wait!” Velanna called. “I can’t just leave you!”

“We don’t have a choice,” Sigrun said gently. She touched Velanna’s arm and coaxed the elf to turn back to her. “If the darkspawn take Cait back out there, she won’t survive it. We have to get her out. Your sister is alive. We’ll find her again, I promise.”

Something passed between them and then Velanna nodded, defeated, and handed Sigrun the key she’d been given. Sigrun unlocked the door and it opened with a loud creak.

Cait staggered as the bars moved away from her and she had to catch herself from falling. Several hands reached to catch her, but she waved them all away. All of them backed off except Nathaniel, who wrapped an arm stubbornly around her. “I can walk, Nate. I won’t be much good in a fight right now. You’ll need both arms free.”

“No,” he growled. “I am not letting you go. It’s been a week, Caitie. A week in this cage listening to you screaming.” He touched his forehead to hers and released a shaky breath. It was a long time before he spoke again. “I am not. Letting. You. Go.”

She let him help her.

They fought several small groups of darkspawn as they made their way through the mine tunnels, letting the mages take the lead since their combat prowess wasn’t lessened without their gear. The rest of them picked weapons off corpses as they went. They found their own armor again eventually, on ghouls that were wandering the halls. If this whole situation hadn’t been personal for Cait already, having to peel her armor off of a ghoul and the smell of taint and decay clinging to the leather would have made it personal.

When they found the Architect again, Nathaniel’s strong arm was the only thing that kept Cait from throwing herself at it, weapons drawn. It was on a balcony, high above their reach with Seranni and a dwarven woman Cait didn’t recognize; the temptation to climb up there and start stabbing was strong, but she wasn’t. Another opportunity would present itself. As the Architect stared down at her, something mournful on its twisted face, she hoped it saw the threat in her eyes.

It turned to leave, dwarf and elf in tow, and sealed the tunnel behind it. She felt them recede deeper into the earth until they blended in to the hum of the rest of the darkspawn and were gone.

Velanna looked like she wanted to go climbing after them too, Sigrun gently restraining her from doing so. “Why is she with that monster? We must get to her!”

“We will,” Cait said quietly, voice still too broken to speak above a whisper. “We’ll find another way, I promise.”

Velanna nodded at the conviction she heard in her voice. “They say the Wardens can sense darkspawn even deep beneath the ground. Is this true?”

“It is. And that one," Cait tore her eyes away from the buried tunnel entrance to look at the Dalish woman, "will not escape me. Even blind, deaf, and dying, I could hunt him down.”

Velanna lifted her head, something exultant and proud in her eyes. “I would join you in your hunt. Let me join the Grey Wardens.”

“It’s a death sentence," Cait said simply. "Maybe soon, maybe later, we all end up in the same place.”

“I am not afraid of death!" She grabbed Cait by the shoulders, eyes and touch burning in equal measure. "I pledge myself to your service. Let me help you hunt the monster who has stolen my sister from me, and I will follow you.”

Cait offered a hand to Velanna, weak but steady. “Welcome to the Grey Wardens, sister.”

Velanna shook her hand triumphantly. “Ma serannas.”

“My first order as your commander is to find us an exit back to sunlight." Cait dropped her hand and leaned heavily on Nathaniel. "I think I’ve lost a lot of blood and I won’t be able to stand much longer.”

“With pleasure. I’ve had enough of this place.”

-------

Getting back above ground was easy enough, since all their impediments to doing so were gone. They stopped in the first clearing they found so Cait could rest and they could all eat something that hadn't been cooked by darkspawn.

Nathaniel hovered by Cait where she leaned against a tree. He needed to go hunt, but he didn't want to leave her.

"Go, Nate," she rasped. "I'll be right here."

He looked like he had several things he wanted to say, but none of them came out. Instead, he turned to Velanna and told her, "Don't let her leave. The moment you take your eyes off her, she'll be on the road trying to march home on her own."

"I love you too," Cait whispered with an exhausted smile.

Nate froze. It took her a long moment to realize why, and almost as soon as she had he was moving, dropping to his knees in front of her. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her fiercely. "Stay. Here."

After he left, Cait turned to Velanna, who was tending the fire and watching her like a hawk. "Tell me the truth, Velanna," she said, "how bad is it?"

"You look tired, starved, and like you've lost a lot of blood, but there aren't any marks on you from whatever they did," Velanna said, as bluntly as Cait had hoped she would. "I think the rest of them would be coping better if there was." She tilted her head in an almost bird-like motion, studying her. "He almost ripped the bars off our cell trying to get to you. So did the other one, the mage. He shot lightning at the dwarf woman when she brought us food."

Cait huffed a laugh. "I'm sorry I missed that."

"I am surprised that these men that care so much for you would leave you in my care." As if to give an example, Velanna weaved her hand through the air and several wooden spikes, roots or branches Cait couldn't tell, shot up from the ground. She collected them to feed to the fire. "Last you remember, we were barely allies."

"Do you mean me harm, Velanna?" Cait asked plainly.

"No." She kept watching her while coaxing the fire to life, curious and still a bit suspicious. "Do you truly not plan to punish me when we return to your fortress?"

"No." Cait said. She almost left it there, but Velanna deserved an explanation. "Almost two years ago, a man came into my family's home and slaughtered them. The only people that survived were myself and my brother, who was at the time missing in the forest far to the south."

Velanna nodded, a single terse bob of her head. "I see. So you sympathize with my motivations, then. That explains why you didn't kill me before." The fire now crackling happily, Velanna joined Cait by the tree. "What did you do to him, this man who killed your family?"

"I hunted him down and killed him in cold blood." A smile tugged at her lips and she added, "And then I seduced his oldest son."

Velanna laughed delightedly. She had a very pretty laugh. "Would that be your bondmate, then?"

"Yes." Cait liked that word a lot. Bondmate. It felt much less formal than the terms she was more familiar with. "We will get your sister back, Velanna, if I have to storm the Black City itself to do so."

"I believe you," Velanna said, and seemed surprised that she had. "Thank you, Commander."

Cait scoffed. "Call me Cait. Or Cathain is fine. I try not to stand much on formality."

"I see." Another bird-like head tilt. "Very well. Cathain, then."

Cait dozed against the tree as the others returned and food was cooked. Someone was always close, sitting by her side or watching over her; every time she opened her eyes it was someone new. When their meal was ready, she found her plate magically refilling itself whenever she took her eyes off it, but no one would take credit for it. She wanted to scold them for it, but she also didn’t know the last time she’d eaten anything, so she settled for sneaking food back onto other people’s plates when they turned their backs.

She felt a little steadier when she stood up, no dizziness and her balance only a little wobbly. She started to make her way, slowly but without help, back towards the trail.

“We don’t need to hurry, you know,” Anders said, walking beside Nathaniel, who was still glued to her side. “We can camp here, go back to Vigil’s Keep when you’re feeling stronger.”

“I want to go home. I want to sleep in my bed. I won’t let the Architect take that from me.” Cait didn’t know what else the Architect had taken from her - or worse, had added to her - but it would not take the Vigil from her. “So I am going to walk until I either get back to the Vigil or I collapse. You can stay here in you want to.”

He didn’t, of course. He kept doing this very unsubtle thing where he would bump into her as they walked, or touch her arm, and every time she felt the warm rush of healing magic, and every time he said he had no idea what she was talking about. It didn’t do any good; nothing that was wrong with her now was something that he could heal, but he kept trying.

Cait didn’t end up collapsing on the way back to the Vigil, but only because the first time she showed signs of struggling, Justice silently scooped her up and carried her the rest of the way. He said nothing to acknowledge what he was doing and she could do nothing to stop him. He was very strong for a corpse.

Loghain, Leliana, and Varel, all armed and armored, as well as Byron and half a dozen soldiers in Amaranthine colors - including, Cait recognized, Jasper and Avina - were in the courtyard when they walked through the gates. They looked like they were waiting for something.

Judging by the cheers and overlapping voices and general commotion on their approach, they weren’t what the keep had been preparing for.

Justice finally put her down with a little coaxing, and she met her people in the center of the courtyard. They all spoke over each other rapidly.

“What’s going on?” Cait asked, straining to be heard over the din. “You look like you’re prepping for war.”

“Where have you been?” Leliana demanded at the same time. “It’s been a week and a half! We were about to start sending out search parties.”

"There's been a situation that you should be made aware of, Commander," Varel said, soft voice carrying even though he didn't raise it.

“Quiet!” Velanna’s voice carried over the noise. Everyone fell silent, even the sound of Wade’s blacksmith hammer pausing. Once she saw that everyone was looking at her, she nodded to Nathaniel.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, then turned to the rest of them. “What is all this about?”

“We received word from a contact in Amaranthine that Bann Esmerelle was seen with a full escort of guards on the road to the Vigil,” Loghain said tersely. “I doubt she’s coming just to chat, and even if she is, I doubt she’d be willing to sit outside the walls while we waited for you to return.”

“We were waylaid by the Architect,” Nate growled. “It spent the last week with Caitie on an operating table.”

“Are you okay, Caitie?” Leliana asked quietly. She touched Cait’s hair and face gently, and Cait was careful to keep her face blank when that careful touch seared across her skin.

“Nothing a bath, a good meal, and a week or two in bed won’t fix,” Cait said in her broken voice, and she hoped it was the truth. “You think Esmerelle will wait for me?”

“Give it a minute and you can ask her yourself,” Loghain muttered. His sharp eyes saw a lot of the things they weren’t saying. “I don’t suppose you’d listen to reason and go inside while we handle this.”

“I’ve never been reasonable a day in my life,” she said with a ghost of a smile. “I don’t know why you think I’d start now.”

“Will you at least let us do the talking? If she senses any weakness in you, she’ll try to seize on it.” He put a hand on her shoulder and everyone in their little huddle froze at her tiny, pained gasp. “She’ll try to challenge you to a duel. She could probably even beat you as you are right now.”

She did her best to keep her back straight and her head high. “Then it’s a good thing I have so many champions lined up to fight for me.”

With a complete lack of subtlety or finesse, Bann Esmerelle’s entourage clanked and stomped into the courtyard. Cait leaned casually against a wall, in plain sight of the gate, and her people spread out through the space. Nathaniel, Loghain, Leliana, and Varel stayed close, flanking her like an honor guard. It was all delightfully dramatic and she had to fight to keep her face blank.

Esmerelle wore a set of armor that didn’t look made for her, too wide in the shoulders and long in the arms. She approached Cait with unconcealed malice in her eyes, stopping only when Loghain, his armor like a second skin and his eyes much more malicious, stepped to block her path. “I seek an audience with the Warden-Commander,” she said coldly.

“Her Grace was not expecting you,” Nathaniel said in a dangerously formal tone. “She is not speaking with visitors today. Go home, and she will send for you when she has time for trivial matters.”

Esmerelle turned her hateful eyes on him. “I don’t take orders from you.”

Nate’s smile was sharp and bright as a blade. Cait tried not to look too smitten; she could watch him do this all day. “I think you’ll find that you do. You don’t have any power in these walls, Esmerelle.”

“Neither do you,” she snarled. “Her Grace left you with nothing and sits on your throne while you kneel at her feet like a loyal little pup and beg for scraps. Your father would be ashamed.”

Nathaniel actually rolled his eyes at her. “I don’t doubt it. He never wanted me to be Arl. I bet he’s rolling over in his shallow, unmarked grave that I will be.” He crossed his arms, almost casually. “He’d be ashamed of you, too, Esmerelle. You do a very poor job of ensuring the loyalty of your soldiers. If you don’t give your assassins enough incentives, they’re very quick to turn on you.”

“It’s ironic, really,” Zevran said lightly, his blade sliding ever so gently against Esmerelle’s unarmored throat as he stepped into view wearing the same armor and helm as the rest of the bann’s soldiers. “Your Rendon Howe hired me to kill the Warden once, too. It worked out as well for him as it is for you.”

“Bann Esmerelle of Amaranthine,” Varel intoned, reading from a piece of paper that he hadn’t had in his hand before, “you are accused of conspiracy against the arling of Amaranthine and treason against its ruler. Before these witnesses, we find you guilty of all charges. The punishment--”

“Kill the Commander!” Esmerelle called out to her guards. “Do with the rest as--” she never got to finish her sentence, collapsing to the ground with a dagger in the back of her neck.

“Oops,” Zevran said with a shrug. “My apologies, my dear. I got tired of waiting.”

“The punishment for treason is death,” Varel finished dryly. “Maker grant you mercy, for you’ll find none here.”

Her soldiers hadn’t fared any better. Esmerelle either thought Cait was stupid and unaware of her conspiracy or had vastly underestimated the skill of the Wardens. She would have needed twice the people to even pose a threat; as it was, they hadn’t even broken a sweat.

“Someone please clean up this mess,” Cait rasped, as loud as she was able. “And Varel, please prepare the Joining.”

“As you say, Commander.” Varel looked happy to be moving to more familiar ground, and led Velanna inside the keep. Sigrun followed them, and Velanna visibly relaxed once she saw the Legionnaire with them.

“I’ll stand witness at this one, Cait,” Loghain said. “You should go recover before the next crisis arrives.” Cait opened her mouth to protest, but he continued, “Howe, please see our Commander makes it safely to her room.”

“He is not yours to give orders to,” she hissed. “Neither am I.”

He put his hands on her shoulders and lowered his voice. “You look like you’re on death’s door. I know you think you can take on the world, but even you have limits. You need to heal. To rest. Please, Caitie.”

The fight went out of her and so did the last of her energy. Loghain never called her Caitie. It had taken four months to get him to stop calling her Warden. He looked at her the same way as he had after her close call with the archdemon, concern and something fragile and kind in his eyes; it told her more than everyone else’s careful, worried distance exactly how rough she must look. She nodded, too tired for words anymore, and Nathaniel wordlessly picked her up and carried her into the Vigil and straight to their room.

He set her down as soon as the door shut, but she didn't let him go far. She grabbed the collar of his armor to pull him down to her height and kissed him with every bit of passion she could muster, which was a rather pitiful amount after the day--the week--she'd had. He returned the kiss very gently, keeping his hands at his sides so their lips were the only point of contact.

"I love you," she whispered against his lips as he pulled away too soon.

He loomed over her, close but not quite touching. "I have wanted to hear you say that for a long time, but you are shit for timing, Caitie."

She laughed, a wheezy and fractured sound. "I know. I should have told you a lifetime ago. I'm sorry it took so long."

"I love you," Nathaniel said, hands like ghosts, almost but not quite there. "Maker's blood, I wish I could touch you. I don’t want to hurt you."

"Then touch me, Nate." She took his hands and brought them to her sides. "I'm not that fragile. I won't shatter."

He pulled her against him and buried his face in her shoulder. It burned, but she didn't care. She clung tighter, buried her fingers in his long hair and breathed in the familiar scent of him.

"The screaming was horrible," he whispered into her hair, voice fractured and pained, "but the silence was worse. Every time, I was afraid that you'd… that I'd never see you again."

A sound escaped Cait's throat that was dangerously close to a sob and she pushed him back until she could see his face. She found his hand and pressed it to her cheek. "I am right here. We're both here and alive, and we're safe and we're together. Okay? Concentrate on that." She was crying and she hated it, but she couldn't make it stop, and then he was too and they collapsed to the floor by their bedroom door and held each other through it.

Eventually, once they'd collected themselves again, he helped her undress. Then he helped her bathe. The bath had long gone cold by the time they got to it, but it helped to numb and soothe her skin. There was a lot of blood on her, but under it they couldn't find any new scars, any incisions or punctures from needles, not even the burns from the ropes they bound her with. Cait didn't know what was worse: that they'd healed them all to hide what they'd done, or that they used something in the torture they inflicted that didn't leave any visible mark.

The only evidence at all that anything had been done to her were a series of tiny red marks, each smaller than a pin prick but covering most of her body. As if something had been drawn from her or forced into her through her pores. Neither option was a pleasant one. At least it explained why it hurt to be touched, and hopefully meant it was something that would heal with time.

Sleep came in fits and starts. The sheets may as well have been made of broken glass for all the comfort Cait found in them. Twice, she awoke screaming, the Architect’s slow, hissing voice in her ear and intense stabbing pain in her ribs. Several times, Nathaniel woke up, just to make sure she was still there; he didn’t intend to wake her, but his hands on her, gentle as they were, always drew her back to wakefulness. He pressed his face to her chest, listening to her heartbeat, feeling the rise and fall of her breathing, needing that proof that she was still alive and real.

Sometime in the predawn hours, both of them exhausted but neither asleep, Cait pressed herself against Nathaniel and kissed him hungrily. She expected him to refuse her, as tired and broken as they both were, but he needed her too and met her halfway, something vulnerable and fascinated in his eyes as he moved beneath her.

It hurt, but in a good way, in a way that told her she was still alive, a deep and satisfying ache that chased all the other pain away for a while. When they were both sated, it was her cries and not her screams that awaited Nate in his dreams, and instead of the Architect, Cait heard Nathaniel’s deep, warm voice in her ear, and they were finally able to sleep.

-------

The next day dawned bright and clear and troubled. Cait finally climbed out of bed just before noon, found some clothes loose enough that they didn’t rub her skin, and joined her Wardens, plus Varel, Zevran, and Leliana, in the war room.

Velanna was there, looking tired but alive, and Cait could feel her in the chorus in her blood along with the others. She still stayed near Sigrun, an ease in her posture when they were close that Velanna didn’t have around anyone else. Cait wished she knew what had happened in the week she was missing that had brought them together.

When no one seemed willing to start, Cait spoke up, voice cracked but no longer broken. “So do we want to start with the good news?”

"One less piece on the board," Anders said cheerfully, eyes serious and worried and watching Cait closely for any sign of pain.

"It is too bad we didn't get a chance to question Esmerelle," Leliana said, circling the room slowly. "I would have liked to know if she really had been working with the Architect.”

“The timing of her arrival was a little too perfect to have been coincidence,” Loghain said gruffly.

“It would explain why she brought so few soldiers with her,” Sigrun piped up. “If she was expecting all of us to still be locked up.”

“I was only in her employ for a few days, it’s true, but she seemed to me just another power hungry noble with more money than sense,” Zevran mused. “If she was taking orders from darkspawn, she never mentioned it to me.”

“Would she have?” Cait asked coyly. “Just how far into her good graces did you get?”

Zev laughed. “Please! Even I have standards, my dear.”

“At least now we know what the Architect is,” Nathaniel growled. “I think I liked it better when we thought it was a Warden.”

“It’s working with Wardens, though,” Oghren said. “There was a dwarf woman in Warden armor working for it. She never said anything. Heard it call her Utha.”

“And it’s got my sister,” Velanna said sourly.

“How does the Architect convince them to work with it?” Leliana stopped her pacing and leaned against the wall next to Loghain. “Is it brainwashing them? Blackmail? Is it simply very persuasive?”

“It didn’t seem especially persuasive to me,” Cait said. A dozen overly sympathetic pairs of eyes turned her way. She ignored them. “It wasn’t torturing me. At least, that wasn’t the intention. It wasn’t trying to get information from me, or blackmail my friends, or break my spirit so I’d take orders. It was… experimenting on me.”

“What kind of experiments?” Loghain asked in the silence that followed her statement.

“I wasn’t awake for most of it, but I think… I think it’s trying to stop the cycle. Break the darkspawn free from the call of the archdemon.” She met his eyes and held them. “It wants to know how I survived the death of the archdemon.”

“Then it has the wrong target. It’s been after the wrong person this whole damn time.”

“No one really knows what happened up there,” Leliana said gently. She covered Loghain’s hand with hers, and he relaxed just slightly. “It would be easy for one to assume it was Caitie who killed it, if all they have to go on is rumor.”

“How did you both survive the archdemon?” Nathaniel asked into the silence.

Cait kept her eyes locked to Loghain’s. They knew they’d have to talk about it sooner or later, but she didn’t want to mention his part in it if she could help it; he had saved her life with that ritual, the least she could do is spare his dignity. “Blood magic. A ritual Morrigan found in her mother’s grimoire. I don’t know much about it, but we swore to her we’d keep it a secret. I feel like I’ve already said too much.”

“You let the Witch of the Wilds cast blood magic on you and you didn’t ask what it was?” Anders laughed.

“I asked a lot of things. I still don’t understand the answers. I don’t understand magic.” Cait shrugged, then cringed as it made pain ripple across her skin. “But I trust Morrigan. She wouldn’t have deliberately caused me harm. And we’re still here, so whatever she did worked.”

“We are also getting off topic,” Loghain said.

Cait’s nightmares last night had at least served to help her figure out what had been done to her in that mine, had played it out over and over in sound and color. Her voice shook as she spoke of it. “The Architect took a lot of blood. Pulled it out through my skin with magic unlike anything I’ve ever seen.” She paused, took a deep breath. “I’m worried it did something to me. Weaponized the taint, maybe, or accelerated it. Something feels off, and not just because I was tortured.”

“Avernus might be able to tell you something,” Leliana said. She stepped away from Loghain and circled the room to Cait and took her hand. “Once we take care of this, you should go see him. It cannot hurt.”

It could and likely would hurt, but Cait didn’t say that. She was pretty sure Avernus and the Architect had a similar approach to scientific experimentation and she was not eager to be on another operating table. But Leliana was also probably right, so she just nodded.

“If the Architect is after what we think it is, it’s going to know soon that it had the wrong target,” Nate said slowly, eyes distant in thought. “If it doesn’t know already.”

“Then it’ll probably come here once it figures it out,” said Sigrun. “We should prepare for a siege.”

“It will not breach the walls of the Vigil,” Justice said plainly. “It will attempt subterfuge or coercion before risking a frontal assault.”

“It will send my sister to parlay,” Velanna said angrily. “Try to use her to draw me out and use me to draw you out. Like in the forest.”

“Maybe,” Oghren said. “But maybe not. If I wanted to drag an enemy out of hiding, I’d find a weak point. Maybe that’s your sister,” he pointed at Velanna, then at Nathaniel, “but maybe it’s yours. There’s a city full of innocent people less than a day from here and a lot less fortified.”

The whole room fell silent at that, considering the implications.

“Well, shit,” said Anders eventually, breaking the pall over the room.

Cait sighed and leaned heavily on the table for a second, thinking. “Okay. Varel, I need whatever soldiers you’ve got ready to go. Double patrols between here and Amaranthine, scouts, whatever you’ve got.”

“As you say.”

“Loghain, I need you to write to your daughter. See if she’s got soldiers to spare. If they attempt to split our focus between the city and the keep, I need enough people to hold both.” She considered a second, then added, “And see if she can get her husband off his ass to be a Warden again, even if just temporarily. Have her tell him I’m calling in a favor, if he’s pigheaded about it.”

He smiled humorlessly. They both knew exactly how pigheaded Alistair could be. “Yes, Commander.”

“I want to know who this Utha is. If she was a Warden, she’ll be in the archives at Weisshaupt. Someone convince the First Warden to part with them.”

“I can do that,” Anders said gleefully. “I’ve got a few questions for the old bastard anyway.”

“I want to know what the Architect is, too. Nathaniel’s already got some contacts looking, but I need information sooner rather than later. Anything you can find. I want to know what I’m up against.”

“I have some ideas of where we can start looking,” Leliana said.

“And I need healing,” she said last, the words hard to force out over the lump in her throat. “Magic isn’t working. I need something else, and fast. If they march on us tomorrow, Ser Pounce-a-Lot will be better with a blade than I will.”

“I have some suggestions,” Zevran said quietly, something in his voice Cait couldn’t quite place.

“So do I,” Velanna added.

“Is it really that bad?” Sigrun asked. “You look like you’re holding up pretty well to me.”

Cait held up her hand, the one that wasn’t still clasped in Leliana’s. It shook alarmingly. “I am being held together by spite and pride and not much else,” she said honestly. “I could fight better at twelve years old than I could right now.” She sighed again and gripped the edge of the table until her hand stopped shaking. “Dismissed. Move quickly. We’re on borrowed time as it is.”

They filtered out until it was only Cait, Leliana, Loghain, and Nathaniel in the room; it was starting to feel familiar, the four of them gathered like this.

“I did not want to alarm the others, in case I was wrong,” Leliana said slowly, shutting the door to give them some privacy, “but I think I might know what the Architect is.”

“She was up all night pouring over books,” Loghain murmured, watching Leliana as she walked across the room to a side table and started flipping through papers.

“Mmm, and how would you know that,” Cait said slyly.

“How indeed,” he said, but his cheeks were red.

“Oh, hush,” Leliana said playfully, then handed Cait a piece of parchment. “Here.”

She skimmed it quickly. “The Chant of Light? Really?”

Leliana smiled and pointed at a passage about halfway down the page. “Yes, really. Start here. Canticle of Silence.”

Cait read aloud from the page. “The High Priest of Beauty, Architect of the Works of Beauty, designed every work and wonder of the Imperium according to the plans of his god. To him, the Conductor went in secret, armed with the whisper of Silence.” She paused and looked up at Leliana, alarmed, but she just nodded toward the paper for her to keep reading. “But the High Priest of Beauty was sorely troubled, for he served only the Great Plans and would in no wise raise a servant of Silence above himself or his god. And yet, the fire in the Conductor's heart ignited within the Architect a terrible flame. And so he turned all the lesser priests and acolytes from the Temple of Beauty to beseech counsel from his god.”

Cait dropped the paper to the table. She was shaking again, barely able to keep on her feet from the force of it. Awed and terrified, she whispered, “He’s one of the first darkspawn. One of the magisters that corrupted the Golden City. Blight and damnation, I… I can’t fight that.”

Loghain barked a laugh, loud and bitter. “I think I’ll retire once we’re done here, before you attract the attention of something even bigger.”

Nathaniel pulled Cait into a hug and she buried her face against his chest, fighting to keep her breathing steady and even. “We’ll figure it out, Caitie. Everything dies if you stab it enough.”

“Thank you, Leliana,” Cait said, voice muffled in Nate’s shirt. “I’m glad we know what we’re really up against, as terrifying as it is. It makes me even more concerned about what it may have done to me, though.”

“We will figure that out, too,” Leliana said, stroking her back comfortingly. “Together. It is what we do.”

“I know.” This room felt too small, more crowded with four of them than it had been with a dozen. Cait slipped out of Nathaniel’s arms and toward the door. “I need some air.”

#nathaniel howe #cousland/nathaniel howe #dragon age #dragon age awakening #dragon age fic #cait cousland #cait/nate #rhi writes #something might be found #so much stuff happening this time around!#big drama!#also I love cait and velanna #there's a lot of fun parallels with their stories and personalities

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sleepymarmot · 6 years

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COUNTER/Weight liveblog, part 2

Episodes 23-40

Keith hasn't listened to the previous episode and Austin & Ali are cackling like “You got a big storm coming” lmao

…Look I understand the idea of making Tea an ally after the players and audience got to know her in the Kingdom game but the excuse is really thin

“A gift for his little brother” You guys are really bad at this gender neutrality thing huh

AuDy talking to Orth makes my head spin a bit now

Oh so Addax is the leader of the Angels? The person who has been watching the Chime from the shadows = the group that has been spying on them? Okay, I now feel dumb for not putting this together myself.

Wait I lost track again. Who were Jacq & Jill working for initially that gave them access to those immortality tanks? Iirc it was Odamas who had that technology and then gave Horizon access to it while imposing strict rules on them during the merge? So why does Jacqui get less fun assignments now if she was a part of the winning faction, not the losing one?

Oh cool, so Jamil wanted to hand over the virus to the Angels because they're both just from the Rapid Evening?

“A bard notices their enemy's heart isn't in the fight, so they stop fighting, fall in love” is such a specific thing. How the hell did it happen twice on the same show. Is this the new big gay trope now

Heeeey could you stop punching me in the stomach with intros

So, Jacqui was working for Horizon, which in turn was given this job by Petrichor? Still doesn't answer my question…

Do I have to mentally rewrite the entire holiday special so that in every scene on the Kingdom Come everyone is floating in zero gravity all the time?! I'm sorry but this makes no fucking sense!

The doppelganger thing started really creepy but now it just makes my head spin! Please stop it with the names, I'm too easily confused, especially with a show that has a record of passing characters back and forth between the GM and the players!

Re: that whole thing: aaaaAAAAA???

I don't understand what Austin and Jack are doing but it's pretty magical

God, the Aria/Jacqui scene is so… tender? Idk. Austin's gentle “PC's love interest” voice has murdered me again. I'm not sold on Jacqui by herself as a character but on the feelings between the two? Definitely. (Though I still wonder about Aria’s heroism vs Jacqui’s disregard for life. That’s a biiig value clash)

Okay, this was all very unsettling and I still understand so little

I really love that Sokrates' refusal to make that one nameless person take the fall, which seemed (at least to me) kinda stubborn and shortsighted, turned into a key moment, both because it demonstrates integrity, and now because that person becomes an actual NPC as an important asset in their faction

I love how the idea of moving Rigour to September comes up and everyone starts screaming and I do too! They sure love leaving horrifying surprises for the ground team to stumble upon lol

Is it too callous and unwise of me to react to Ibex overthrowing the Hands of Grace as “good riddance”?

Maryland's letter has strong Alyosha/Arrell vibes

I love the “reluctant alliance with an antagonist” trope and was hoping it'd happen with Ibex so I'm happy! Also in one of the early episodes Austin mentioned the Anders-Justice storyline and I'm glad to hear him finally deliver. (There was stuff about the pilot/Candidate->Divine influence with Order, but not about the other way around or fusion, like with Vengeance)

Okay thankfully things are clearer now (I'm reeeally glad I wasn't spoiled on this) but I still have so many questions. How were LD made in the first place? Why and how did they hide in/turn themselves into a simple robot? What are they – just software, like Righteousness, or is there some Divine hardware core inside the normal Automated Dynamics unit that nobody has noticed somehow, or is the hardware in a remote location they access through the mesh? Did Ibex know AuDy was LD the whole time – he didn't act very surprised? Why didn't Ibex rescue his brother, did he die really quickly? How will Mako be able to fog without Righteousness? Shouldn't AuDy be gamebreakingly powerful now? How and why do LD count as two Divines but have a single consciousness, are they like Garnet?

Lazer Ted feels like a fucking TAZ character lmao

The comic relief was welcome but at the same time I'm continuously like “What is AuDy thinking and feeling. Why are they acting like nothing happened. Where's the existential crisis. How do you realize you're a pair of ancient gods and just proceed with your life? Are they so impenetrable on purpose because they're a robot”. Like, it was chilling when they were suddenly chatting with Ibex like old friends, and now it's chilling that they're acting just in the early episodes.

I'm glad the robot incident made everyone realize it might be unwise to put the two charming extraverts in the same half of the party lol

Looks like they decided to permanently switch back to “he” for Cass… Probably for the best.

Jack keeps excitedly jumping at every opportunity for creepiness™. God, AuDy makes so much more sense as his character now after the Reveal

Is September just fucking Solaris now?

I think this is the first time I'm not excited to hear a faction game episode because I really didn't expect it at this point in the story. My reaction was “Wait what? Are you telling me everyone gets stuck on September waiting out that storm for a whole month?! I wanted to hear what that cliffhanger led to!” Idk, the September arc was generally kind of a let down after the intensity of the episodes leading up to it, and this further deflates the tension.

Speaking of tension and letdowns, I just have to complain… It's really disappointing when the show sets up really big dramatic hooks and then does practically nothing with them! I complained about Addax and Cass in the previous post and that point still stands. Case two: Mako and Righteousness/Voice. It's set up in a faction episode, and in the immediately following arc Mako indeed is in danger from something inside his own head, but it's a completely unrelated thing! At the end of the arc he finally finds out, but the threat immediately gets nullified with no consequences – no self-doubt or identity crisis, no diminished abilities in terms of game mechanics. Case three: Ibex himself. Out of the reasons the Kingdom game is what it is, the excuse for it happening in-universe was to give more details on Ibex, and at least half of it featured a collective effort to make him as central to the story and as threatening as possible. But as soon as that flashback ends, so, counterintuitively, does the role of Ibex as an active antagonist to the Chime -- the role which was literally just supposed to begin in earnest. So by this point I can barely recall why we were all so intimidated by this guy in the first place. I'm more like “This is a useful ally to have”. This is what I don't like about the world-ending threats like Rigor: all other interesting conflicts fade in their face.

Dang, I thought Isurus was a cooler name than Enhydra!

Sokrates, forced to shake Ibex's hand: *clenched fist meme*

Wait, I missed something, why is Rigor deep underground and has to dig itself out?

Okay, after the lore episode I'm also confused how Rigor ended up underground on Ionias after it was blown up 20000 years ago in a completely different place

I'm very distressed by the idea of Hieron as a future popular franchise!! No, it's supposed to be real when these people are talking about it!! Oh wait a fucking second, does this mean Jace's Panther was a deliberate reference in-universe?? Like you're fighting in a real serious terrible war and you model a giant war machine after, like, a thestral from the fucking Harry Potter and just call it “Thestral”??!

No, no, wait, do tell me who Cass and AuDy would cosplay!

Oh no, Rigour wants to talk to Voice(?), great

Hey Cass, your Hadrian is showing??

Speaking of Hadrian, I was caught off guard by description of Tower as a “hot young Hadrian”, for some reason Hadrian never struck me as a character who's supposed to be exceptionally attractive. But then again, I imagined him as very young until that letter to Hella, and then I imagined Cass as a young adult until I did the math, so I might just be bad at visualising Art's characters lol.

Austin is so generous and unsubtle about throwing hot gay NPCs right at the players. Too bad Mako doesn't sound as interested as Aria did.

I expected they'd find a room with one copy of everyone plugged into the mesh, that'd be even creepier. What's with the false memories though? This doesn't explain them.

So, how does this whole clone system work? How does time work? Why don't the real students like Tower or Maxine notice that there's a new guy who looks just like their friend, but doesn't know them – or, for that matter, why don't the other clones notice? Oh, maybe that's the purpose of the fake memory aura? So that Maritime-4 could continue right from where Maritime-3 left off?

When Cass saw Apokine's face I thought it meant that the humans had genetically engineered the Apostolosians and that's what “we made them look like us” meant, which would be two of my long-standing questions answering each other. And then it was just another giant mech.. :/

Wait, does Orth calling Cass “Apokine” mean that he pilots the mech now or that Sokrates died and Cass inherited his position?! I'm worried now…

I'm even more worried about Mako, because at first I of course reacted to the question about being in two places at once as “hah, Larry”, but it's probably the other thing, and on one hand that must mean that the rescue of clones was successful, but also that means that our Mako might be dead and the one in the intro is one of the clones… Considering that in the Winter post-mortem I caught Keith saying how emotional the C/w finale was for him before I started fast-forwarding in fear of spoilers, do I need to start mentally preparing to bury Mako already or what?

Speaking of spoilers… The farther I go, the less I understand the advice to skip Autumn. I thought that at least for C/w it wouldn't matter, given it's a whole different universe, but they keep referencing it, and then casually dropping major spoilers, and then referencing it again in a story-relevant way. (The Ordennan ships arrive on the screen as Rigor does, and the next episode is named “The Storm over September” and quotes Lem's poem in the description. That's really cool but I somehow feel vaguely irritated on behalf of my potential alternate self who skipped season 1.) I really hope they've grown more careful about this by now, because I'll probably not even begin Twilight Mirage by the time the next season starts, and I would really like to stay in the dark about the intense events they're all vague-tweeting about at the moment!

Why was AuDy alarmed by Voice's presence as “a” Divine accompanying Maxine? Shouldn't they be familiar with it already because of Mako? (And I don't want to even ask about the ontological difference/border between Righteousness and Voice. I'm tired and feel like a nitpicker. But just for the record, this still isn't clear.)

Well that's a sadder family reunion than I hoped for!

So AuDy does have a split personality to some degree?

Oh well. AuDy's got a fate worse than death: Liberty and Discovery, imprisoned indefinitely. Or devoured I guess, I didn't really get it. Great. Thanks. Fucking RIP I guess. Out of all ways I expected them to go, this wasn't one.

(By the way I still don't understand how the portal works. Where is this portal to? Why can't L&D fly out and take the slow way home, and why can't Rigor?)

There's still about ten minutes left in the episode and I don't understand how it isn't the finale. What's there to do for three more episodes now.

“With Rigor defeated so easily, so permanently, she thought” *Rigor screech*

Yeah, fuck Grace btw

Sounds like cultivating saplings is not a priority anymore for a certain someone… (Wait, btw, what happened to that patch/seed they left? Will it ever come back into play?)

“...Why they would put themselves into a body like yours? And I think, maybe, it's that they were curious about what it would be like for four years to feel like a long time” AAAAAA

Okay, things are better on September than it sounded initially, but still… Wtf's going to happen? Rigor repairs itself, takes over the survivors, takes off again? But what's the timeline on that? I genuinely have no idea wtf the finale is going to be about after this.

Oh, what happened to the clones btw? Did Larry manage to get them off the planet in time, despite the Minerva ships in orbit and, more importantly, Rigor? Or are they stuck on September, unable to continue reenacting the plot of Orphan Black?

From how it's been described in this episode, feels as if Liberty and Discovery are a candidate of AuDy… They didn't want a candidate but were curious to learn how it feels for the other side?

Paisley's dead-eyed, Tower's gone, and even Ibex, who is barely holding on himself, loses his ex… Everyone's love life takes a nosedive: the episode. At least Jacqui's okay… (And because of Jacqui, it was doubly sad and surprising to hear Aria still has feelings for Paisley…)

#friends at the table #blah blah blah

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jamiedodgerart · 7 years

Photo

hey i marathoned da2 over the course of a week at @1500birds‘s house and drew a lot of stuff for it. there’s info in the captions but im gonna talk more about him under the cut (spoilers for all of da2)

this is mal hawke! (short for malcolm, he was named for his dad.) he’s a rogue

mal’s pretty purple, his emotions are behind 7 layers of jokes but he’s very dedicated to his family. he took his role as eldest sibling seriously- haha, no, he teased the shit out of carver and let bethany climb irresponsibly tall trees with him, but he did really care and look out for them. he was kinda lowkey a highwayman before the blight- probably did some poaching, robbed a few rich merchant vans, stuff like that. gambled and got drunk a lot.

blight happens, ogre smushes carver. in the moment, his mother blames mal. and although later she apologized and forgave him, he never forgot, and never forgave himself.

(aveline killed the ogre btw. mal was taking care of grunts, halfway across the field)

he joined the smugglers when they got to kirkwall. it wasn’t too far from what he did before and he wasn’t keen on going out of his way to harm people. he was good at finishing fights, though, and he gained a reputation for it over his year with the smugglers. it got his family into the city, and for that it was worth it.

mal got along REALLY well with varric, merrill, and anders (whom he later fell in love with. more on that later) he didn’t always agree with aveline, but they were still close, and he really didn’t get along so well with isabela or fenris. ah well. he tried to be friends, tried to help, but it didn’t work out.

he almost took bethany to the deep roads. almost. but as he was planning who to take... well, out of the game, my friend bran spilled the beans and said something very bad would happen if i did. EDIT bran said i got that part wrong and that i figured it out myself, which i forgot, and ordered me to clear their name. official statement: bran kept that secret. so mal had a really bad gut feeling and took merrill instead. bUT SHIT, SHE GOT CAUGHT BY THE CHANTRY INSTEAD OF DYING. i GUESS that’s better. but still, mal blamed himself for not being there to protect her.

so apart from lingering guilt, mal’s doing pretty well in act 2. hes got a relationship going with anders, hes financially stable, bethany’s doing pretty well, considering, he’s got a cool house- oh and kirkwall’s headed towards possible war but that’s nothing new, is it.

a bit more bg on mal hawke: he’s real fond of compromises. in his mind, there’s always a way out, always a third option. he’s pretty pro-mage, bc he did grow up w two mages in his family and never really learned to fear magic, and later because he spent a lot of time with anders, whose enthusiasm for mage rights is kind of infectious.

that third option thing? a really bad philosophy to have in kirkwall. why are people so polar. have none of you ever heard of nuance

anyway can’t remember a whole lot more bc this post was supposed to be done and posted in june, when i actually played, but his mother is murdered. because he wasn’t there/because he didn’t get to her fast enough/because he didn’t solve that mystery in time/because he screwed up. so guess who he blames (it’s himself)

so amidst mal’s grief the whole city is going to shit, because the qun won’t fuck off and isabela stole a book. mal asks if she’ll please give it back, because Everything Is Going To Shit, This Is The Best Resolution We Have, and she refuses bc if she does she’ll be in deep shit herself, and runs off with it. damn. so mal fights the arishok, wins, and decides hes had enough of kirkwall’s shit for a little while and takes a long-ass nap.

three years later, kirkwall’s going to shit again, because it just can’t keep it together. come on, kirkwall. the templars and mages are fighting, and everyone expects mal to have some kind of authority on the shituation. he doesn’t bc hes literally just some guy who happens to fight good that everyone seems to think has a handle on things. he asks meredith and orsino if they could maybe chill out for two seconds but of course they don’t because this is kirkwall and nobody knows how to chill in kirkwall except varric. mal ends up supporting the mages

anders asks mal for help with getting un-possessed. mal 100% wants his bf to not be possessed anymore, bc it’s getting scary, so he readily helps out getting the stuff anders needs. but. it’s a little fishy. look mate i know the qunari are the only ones who know what gunpowder is rn in history but you’re asking me for saltpeter and i dont think you’re supposed to ingest that. anders is like ok, i did lie a lil bit, but there’s a point to this- and mal’s pissed! bc anders lied to him! but agrees to help a little more

so that’s how mal ended up chatting with the grand cleric about the shituation and how there’d probably be an ok solution if people just sat down and chilled out a little, while anders set up the charges to blow up the chantry and escalate the whole thing to hell tier

as you might expect, mal’s hELLA PISSED when anders blows it, not just because he lied, not just because he took advantage of mal trusting him, but because now the templars are going to, yknow, kill every mage, so mal’s remaining family (bethany, and merrill, bc she counts as family too) are in danger, and at this point mal doesn’t have a lot of family left to lose. he tells anders to gtfo before he kills him.

aveline, varric, and merrill stick with him, and fenris leaves to join the templars. later on, they fight. mal doesn’t WANT to fight, and makes an attempt to hash out some ending that didn’t involve one of them dead, but fenris isn’t having any of it. he’s not a fan of mal never wanting to make a straight decision on anything, and forces him to make a choice: die, or fight and kill his former friend.

fenris dies.

the remaining boss fights continue as expected- bethany rejoins the party, orsino panics and goes full corpse-monster, meredith goes nuts and full lyrium-monster, the mages and templars are left without leaders and if things weren’t on their way to hell in a handbasket they sure are now. mal decides it’s time to retire, and never set foot in kirkwall the hell city again.

hes got a cabin in the woods, living out the lumberjack life and drinking away his problems

#this is from june and is the reason i kept not posting things over here on tumblr rip #dragon age #dragon age 2 #mal hawke #da2 spoilers

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glowyelfboyfriend · 7 years

Note

Can you talk more about Varric as a character? I am intrigued by your remark that he is strange and complicated. He's my fave so I would love to hear your thoughts on him and what it was like to write with him!

Hooo boy.

Alright, you know how Varric admits he lies? Yeah. you gotta watch for that. You also got to watch for what he omits, and he omits a LOT. The whole thing about how he wouldnt tell the story of how his crossbow was named? It turned out to be a Big Deal. A Huge Deal. A Deal that made you shake Varric and go “BUDDY WTF IS UP WITH YOUR LIFE”

And he knows, so he omits it.

Anyways, I gonna get real tangent-y. I did my heavy character delving with him several months ago so unpacking it all is going to be messy and missing some pieces. I wont be surprised if people correct or add onto this post at all.

One of the most defining things about Varric is his history, and he isnt super open about it even though he often references it. But once its pieced together it gives a really good base for what Varric is really like as a character~

So Varric’s mother was exiled from Orizmar. A HUGE deal in dwarven culture. She was disgraced and alone in a strange world with two sons having lost everything. Bartrand took this situation and decided to do everything possible to try and get the family back in good standing, did lots of business and the dwarf-y like. This took him from home a lot. And a young Varric, who (forgive me I can’t remember exactly) was too young/not born in orzimar, did not have an understanding of what the fuck they were ‘disgraced’ for or had lost… and was left alone most of the time to try and take care of his mother who had taken to drinking to cope with her devastation.

Varric grew up taking care of his mother, while his brother was off trying to fix shit. Varric grew up with no personal pride or ties to being a dwarf cause all he experienced of dwarven culture was the gaping void that hovering over his family and ripped it into shreds and eventually killed his mother.

Varric has an interesting case of complete disconnect from his race (The only other character in DA I can think of similar is Fenris actually…) and it extends into an active distaste:

Fenris: I thought all dwarves had beards. Where’s yours?

Varric: I misplaced it, along with my sense of dwarven pride and my gold-plated noble caste pin.

[sic]

Fenris: You’re a very odd dwarf.

Varric: And you thought I was joking about the pin.

As a result Varric is, in a very undwarf-like manner, quick to define himself in his own terms as much as possible. He has built a persona around himself that omits that he happens to be a dwarf, that omits the family drama, that omits the noble caste pin. Because he doesnt want to be involved in all that crap that took his family apart.

Additionally, the taking care of his mother thing, it really shows in how Varric interacts with pretty much ALL the companions. He is always characterised in fandom as being the ‘best friend’ but its more complicated than that. He isn’t best friends with anyone (save Hawke I guess), he takes care of everyone but he doesn’t let anyone get too close to him. He offers advice to EVERYONE, everyone, and what is MORE interesting is how he responds to how people take the advice.

When people are receiving of his advice and care (etc, Merrill) he is generally friendly and chill with them. When the person refuses the advice Varric pulls away, and quickly sometimes, its easy to see with Anders and Fenris as well. Either he is proven wrong and shuts up or he gets a bit sour with the person for not taking his advice, because uh, thats how Varric KNOWS how to connect with people. He spent his formative years taking care of his mother when someone should have been taking care of him.

Varric also has the DA trademark so many characters in the series have of joking about the thing that bothers them. The more they joke the worse it hurts. Like, uh, you know what Varric jokes about the most? Bianca.

And like.

Bianca ok.

Varric actively loathes dwarven culture and rules and nobility and the merchants guild and all of that. He rejects it at every turn and shows open distain for it and THEN……… he falls for Bianca. And its like all of his issues rolled into one love interest that can Never Be and the tragedy of Varric’s life comes full circle and you want to shake him and tell him to stop making jokes and lying and omitting shit about himself and his life and just maybe open up to someone so he can get better.

Then you get real sad.

Then you get decent at writing Varric cause you got an idea of how his thinking works -finally-.

#da #varric tethras #varric

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kirkwall-group-therapy · 4 years

Text

City of Blood, ch 5

[Mature content warning, Act 1: cursing, adult topics, violence]

Chapter Five: Daisy

Unfortunately, the Captain of the Guard was not impressed with Aveline’s initiative. But it only raised further questions and revealed other flaws. Aveline dug deeper, and with Hawke’s help, they patrolled Lowtown one night, to get to the bottom of whatever the Captain was trying to hide. It was another ambush, and another guard would have been killed, if Aveline hadn’t stepped in. This time the guard was a handsome, sturdy fellow by the name of Donnic. After the events that night, Aveline took her findings to the Viscount, and the Captain of the Guard was arrested.

“And then he made you Captain of the Guard?” Varric asked.

“Yes,” Aveline replied heavily.

“Not happy?” Varric asked.

“I am, it’s just. Unexpected. Sudden. And even though I think I’m up to the task, it’s a big task to undertake,” Aveline said. “How is Bethany doing?”

“You wouldn’t know anything happened to look at her, or talk to her,” Hawke said. “She’s back to her old self. Maybe even more than that. She hasn’t stopped grinning from ear to ear since the night we spent at Anders’ clinic and he carried her all the way home.”

Fenris cocked his eyebrow and took a bite of nug jerky that Varric had offered him.

“So Hawke,” Aveline began. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Uh oh,” Varric laughed.

“Hush Varric,” Aveline scolded. “When are you going to take the amulet to Sundermount like you promised Flemeth? You are going to take it, aren’t you?”

“Bethany and I were just discussing it the other day actually. We had totally forgotten about it. Bethany found it in our trunk when she was rummaging through it trying to find something nice to wear for when she went to thank Anders,” Hawke said. “We were thinking of going in a few days. Did you want to come Aveline? I don’t think we all need to be there. I think we just have to hand over the amulet.”

“Wait, wait,” Varric said. “Flemeth? You couldn’t be talking about the famed Witch of the Wilds, Flemeth?”

“We are,” Aveline said. “The one and the same.”

“Back up. Tell me the whole story. And I do mean the whole story,” Varric said pulling out some parchment and ink.

“Haven’t we told you how we escaped Lothering, Varric?” Aveline asked.

“The version I got included running from darkspawn and catching a boat to Kirkwall. There was no mention of Flemeth,” he replied.

“Who is Flemeth? A mage I assume, by the moniker ‘Witch of the Wilds’?” Fenris asked.

“You haven’t heard the stories of the Flemeth?” Varric asked. “Does that mean you haven’t much about the Hero of Fereldan?”

“Haven’t exactly had time to be catching up on stories, what with running from Danarius and all,” Fenris retorted.

Varric waved his hand at Fenris. “Say no more Fenris.”

“The short version, Varric,” Fenris said.

“I’m wounded, elf,” Varric laughed. “But I’ll agree only because I’m eager to hear Hawke & Aveline’s story. So, the Hero of Fereldan, the beautiful warrior, daughter of the Cousland family, and now Warden Commander. Well soon after she was initiated into the wardens, the Battle of Ostagar took place. Another story that Aveline & Hawke could tell us more about since they also fought in that battle.”

Surprised, Fenris turned to Hawke & Aveline. This was the first time Fenris had heard that they participated in the Battle of Ostagar.

“No.” Aveline said shortly, refusing to speak of Ostagar.

“Anyway. As I was saying, the Hero of Fereldan lit the beacon to signal for reinforcements, which never came. They were wounded and overrun by darkspawn, and without reinforcements they surely would have perished - if it had not been for Flemeth, the Witch of the Wilds, who turned herself into a dragon and rescued them from the tower.”

“Who is this Flemeth?” Fenris asked.

“No one really knows,” Aveline said. “There are plenty of stories though. The dragon part, we can vouch for.”

“The stories say many things about Flemeth. Old, old mage. Long past a normal life span. They say she eats children. Some say she possesses them. But very few have ever actually met her,” Varric said. “She was mostly just a legend. A tale mothers used to scare their children into behaving. But nothing more. Until the Hero of Fereldan.”

“Whatever she is, she is very real,” Hawke said. “We … we met her just after Carver died. We had been running from the darkspawn for days. Their numbers were growing. We ran into Aveline and Wesley just a day prior. We came to a clearing. At first there weren’t any darkspawn. But then we heard … thundering footsteps. A darkspawn ogre came charging up the ravine, and straight for us. Carver didn’t even think twice. He was right - it had to be headed off quickly or both mother and Wesley would have died. Carver rushed at it. But he …” Hawke stopped. After a moment, Aveline continued where Hawke had left off.

“The ogre picked Carver up and crushed him with one hand. It was a quick death Hawke. He didn’t feel any pain,” Aveline said, putting her hand on Hawke’s shoulder.

“The ogre was still a threat, but his course had been altered and his charge thwarted, giving Wesley and mother time to retreat to a safer area. Bethany, Aveline, & I dealt with the ogre. As if that weren’t enough, more darkspawn poured into the clearing. We took them out, one after the other, but for each one we killed, two more took its place. We were outnumbered and quickly growing tired. That’s when a dragon appeared. I’m not going to lie. I thought we were done for in that moment. I figured it was the archdemon. But instead of joining the attack against us, it took out the darkspawn in one fell swoop - and landed in front of us. A moment later, the dragon was changing, transforming in glowing light, until a beautiful woman stood there.”

“Beautiful?” Aveline asked. “More like terrifying.”

“I guess I couldn’t help but be impressed by her appearance. So graceful. And her clothing was not what I would have expected from a witch. They were, sophisticated? Maybe sophisticated isn’t quite the right word. It’s hard to describe her. Beautiful, and terrifying. Her hair though,” Hawke said laughing a little.

“I’ll give you that,” Aveline agreed. “Her hair was certainly a beauty.”

“Do tell,” Varric said.

“At first I thought they were horns,” Aveline said. “And I’m still not entirely sure they weren’t?”

“No, it had to be her hair. They were white, just like her hair, and they didn’t push aside the rest of her hair the way horns would have. Nor did they appear to be hardened like horns. I don’t know. At any rate, she had her hair fashioned into what looked like horns, and they were wrapped in ribbon. I can never do anything with my hair and there she was, just ….” Hawke said.

“Ahahaha, so let me get this straight. Flemeth lands in front of you as a dragon, taking out a horde of darkspawn, then transforms into a woman, and your first thought at the time was her hair?!” Varric asked.

“Mm, no. Her hair was a quick second thought. My first thought was how fucking cool it was to be able to turn into a dragon. Another reason why I always wanted to be a mage. I’ve always envied Bethany for that,” Hawke said.

“You wish you were a mage?” Fenris asked both shocked and disgusted.

“I know you have reason to distrust them Fenris. And I know that there are dangers with being a mage. But. I just think magic is so amazing. I idolized my father who was a mage, and next to him and my sister I always just felt so … ordinary,” Hawke said. “But it’s probably best that I’m not a mage. Haha, I would probably be a bad mage.”

“Oh Maker,” Aveline said. “I can just see it now. Thank the Maker indeed that you are not a mage.”

“So Flemeth is standing there, and …” Varric asked.

“She talked to us. She had seen Hawke take down the ogre, and was impressed,” Aveline said.

“I didn’t take down the ogre, Aveline. We all did,” Hawke said.

“Hawke, be modest all you want, but we both know that it went down because of you. We mostly just managed to distract it for you,” Aveline said.

“Anyway,” Hawke said, quickly shrugging off the compliment. “I don’t think she had initially intended to do anything more than what she had done for us. But after speaking with us, and learning where we were headed, she said that she would help us get to Gwaren - if we delivered an amulet to a clan of Dalish elves living in Sundermount.”

“And so you just accepted this witch’s help, just like that?” Fenris asked.

“Actually,” Aveline said glancing at Hawke. “The rest of us were a bit weary of her. Even Bethany. Perhaps especially Bethany. But Hawke - Hawke trusted her right away I think.”

“We didn’t have any other option. Our path was clear for the moment, but Gwaren was still a long way off and the darkspawn numbers were getting larger, not smaller. And without Carver,” Hawke said.

“We didn’t have any other option, you’re right, but that’s different than trusting her. Still a promise is a promise, and I would not want to break a promise with someone like Flemeth,” Aveline said.

“So you still have the amulet?” Varric asked.

“Yes,” Hawke said.

“To answer your earlier question Hawke, no, I don’t need to be there with you. As long as the promise is fulfilled, I will be happy. Or rather, at ease,” Aveline said.

“I would like to come along, if that’s alright Hawke,” Varric said. “I can’t pass up the chance to see how this ends.”

“We’re just handing the amulet over to the keeper of the Dalish clan,” Hawke said. “I really don’t expect there to be any fighting or anything.”

“Still, you can never be too careful,” Fenris said. “I would join as well.”

“I admit, I’m surprised anyone is interested in this little trek, but you’re more than welcome to come along. Bethany and I were planning on heading to Sundermount in two days. She has the day free from her jobs, and Anders’ clinic will be closed for the day so that he can do something or other,” Hawke said.

“You were going to invite Anders?” Fenris asked, bristled.

“No. But if the clinic was open, then Bethany would spend the day there,” Hawke said, rolling her eyes.

“So it’s a date then?” Varric said, winking at Hawke.

“It’s a date,” Hawke winked back, adding a sultry smile.

“Have you been to Sundermount before?” Hawke asked Varric, as they approached the road out of the city, to the mountain.

“I have not. I have no reason to. And besides, I’m a city dwarf. Honestly, if this didn’t have something to do with Flemeth, I wouldn’t even be here. All this walking and hiking and climbing is not my thing.” Varric said.

“Have you been to the mountain before, Hawke?” Fenris asked.

“No. And I’m nervous about meeting the Dalish. I know that the Dalish are not fond of humans, to put it mildly. And I don’t blame them. But I hear that they often shoot first and ask questions later, and I don’t want to fight them,” Hawke said.

“Me either,” Bethany said.

“Me three, Sunshine,” Varric agreed.

The group traveled slowly into Dalish territory, doing their best to look non-threatening, if that’s even possible for Hawke. It wasn’t long before they were stopped by Dalish scouts who reluctantly agreed to take them to see their keeper. The keeper greeted them warmly, but informed them that, unfortunately, their task was not yet done. They must take the amulet to the top of Sundermont, and there, with the help of one of their own, they must perform a funeral rite. However, as the keeper mentioned, the way to the top was dangerous. So much so that the clan had been told to stay away. Hawke was suddenly glad that she brought more than just Bethany with her.

Merrill, the clan’s First, joined them part way up the mountain. She was a thin, petite framed young elven girl. Her dark dark was cut short, and dotted with braids. She had light facial Dalish tattoos, and a beautiful green scarf that she wore around her neck. She led them up the mountain and to some caverns that wound through to the other side, and eventually to top of the mountain itself. Hawke realized with horror, what lie in store for them in the caverns, as soon as they stepped foot inside. A faint skittering noise was the only warning they had before a number of giant spiders descended upon them. Hawke shrieked bloody murder at the top of her lungs and leaped into Fenris’ arms in a single bound, still shrieking.

“Hawke!” Fenris shouted, startled and confused. He managed to peel himself free and rushed at the bulk of them. Shaking, Hawke unsheathed her sword and took several deep breaths trying to steel herself. Hawke hacked and slashed at the giant spiders erratically and frantically. One spider got past their circle of defense and tried to pull Hawke to the ground, from behind. It’s legs on her shoulders, pinchers screeching over her head, Hawke screamed again and whirled around, slicing it in half. Unfortunately, this also managed to spray spider guts all over Hawke and Fenris.

“Hawke, don’t tell me you’re scared of spiders,” Varric panted after they killed the last of them.

“Terrified,” Bethany said. “Even tiny ones.”

“Aren’t there giant spiders in the wilds near Lothering?” Varric asked.

“Yes,” Hawke said, still trembling and dripping in spider guts. “Carver used to make fun of me, but in the end he would always fight them for me. I don’t really know why they scare me when so many other things don’t. Or rather, I know exactly why I’m scared of spiders, just not why I’m not scared of reanimated corpses or darkspawn. Well, I am scared of darkspawn but it’s a different kind of fear. A manageable one, anyway.”

“Maker’s breath,” Varric cursed getting a whiff of the spider guts. “That smells awful, Hawke.”

Merrill used a little bit of magic to help clean Hawke off, as best as she could. Fenris refused the magical help, but accepted a rag from Varric which did very little truthfully. The rest of the path was littered with risen skeletons and corpses, but luckily, no more giant spiders.

When they finally reached the top, Merrill instructed Hawke to place the amulet on the alter so that she could perform the funeral rite. Varric, handsome devil that he is, knew that he would be greatly rewarded for joining Hawke. His keen sense for great adventures and stories was right. As Merrill spoke the last words, there was a small flash of shifting light and a moment later, a tall woman with white hair, horns, some sort of crown, and a truly distinguished sense of fashion stood before them. Flemeth, the Witch of the Wilds.

“Aah, and here we are,” Flemeth said.

“Son of a nug,” Varric whispered.

“Witch,” Fenris cursed under his breathe.

“Andaran atish’an, Asha’bellanar,” Merrill said, bowing.

“Do you know who I am, beyond than that title?” Flemeth asked.

“I know only a little,” Merrill said.

“Then stand. The people bend their knee too quickly,” Flemeth said, then turned to Hawke. “So refreshing to see someone who keeps their end of a bargain. I half expected my amulet would end up in a merchant’s pocket,” she said.

“I keep my promises,” Hawke said. “Though I confess I don’t understand: you were in the amulet the whole time?”

“Just a piece, a small piece, but it was all I needed. A bit of security, should the inevitable occur. And if I know my Morrigan, it already has,” Flemeth said.

“You are no simple witch,” Fenris said.

“Figure that out yourself, did you?” Flemeth asked, mockingly.

“I have seen powerful mages, spirits, and abominations. But you are none of those things. What are you?” Fenris asked.

“Such a curious lad. The chains are broken, but are you truly free?” Flemeth asked.

“You see a great deal,” Fenris said, as an icy chill slithered down everyone’s back sides.

“I am a fly in the ointment. I am a whisper in the shadows. I am also an old, old woman. More than that, you need not know,” Flemeth said - making absolutely zero sense. But true to Hawke’s story, her hair was spectacular. After some more questions, and some more senseless, eerie answers, Flemeth bid Hawke good bye.

“You have my thanks,” she paused. “And my sympathy.” And she transformed into a dragon and flew off. Just like that.

The keeper thanked Hawke, glad to see that there were at least a few honorable shemlen, that is humans, left in the world. Then she asked Hawke to take Merrill, the clan’s First, back with her to Kirkwall. It was a very unusual request, since the First is the apprentice to the Keeper. A very critical position for a Dalish clan. Everyone at the Dalish camp was acting weird about it too. The Keeper didn’t explain, and Hawke had sense enough not to pry. So they headed back to Kirkwall, mostly in silence. Varric asked Merrill a few questions, and had arrived at a nickname for her before they even reached the city: Daisy.

“So, how did it go? And where is Hawke?” Aveline asked, sitting down at Varric’s table as the others arrived.

“It was not what I expected,” Fenris said.

“Fenris, do you live here with Varric?” Aveline asked.

“No. You know I live in Danarius’ old mansion in Hightown,” Fenris said, puzzled.

“It’s just that- oh never mind,” Aveline said.

“Hawke,” Varric started as he rummaged through some papers, looking for more blank parchment. He had been busy writing since they got back. “Hawke is getting Daisy setup in the alienage.”

“Daisy? Who?” Aveline asked, turning to Fenris.

“The Keeper asked us to bring her to Kirkwall, once we finished returning the amulet to Flemeth,” Bethany said.

“Wait, you actually saw Flemeth?” Aveline asked.

“In the flesh, or at least I think,” Varric said.

“She was in the amulet,” Bethany explained. “Or, a piece of her was.”

“I don’t understand,” Aveline said.

“Sweetheart, none of us do,” Varric said.

“’A fragment cast a drift from the whole. A bit of floxsam to cling to in the storm,’” Fenris quoted.

“Oooo,” Varric said, racing to jot it down. “Thanks Fenris. I couldn’t remember the whole line.”

“And then she turned into a dragon,” Fenris said.

“She did. She really did,” Varric said, shaking his head without looking up as he wrote.

“Sounds like I missed all the fun,” Anders said as he joined the group and sat down.

“You would say that,” Fenris said, shooting daggers with his eyes. Anders fired back.

“I for one am glad I was not there,” Aveline said. “That woman scares me.”

“Me too,” Bethany said. “She gives me the chills.”

“Me three,” Varric said. “But what a story! It was worth it just for that. A dragon!” He shook his head again.

“And so this Daisy person?” Aveline asked again.

“She is the Keeper’s First. It’s … like an apprentice, she said. It was all a bit weird, the way everyone was acting, but they asked us to bring Merrill to Kirkwall. Hawke agreed,” Bethany said.

“She’s a mage,” Fenris spat. “Who’s dabbled in blood magic.”

“That makes me uneasy as well,” Bethany confessed. “But she is, I think, the nicest person I’ve ever met.”

“She’s naive,” Fenris said.

“Always glad to have another mage around,” Anders said. Fenris turned and glowered at him.

“The alienage, huh?” Aveline asked. “Poor girl sounds like she doesn’t know what she’s getting herself into.”

“No, she doesn’t. Poor kid. She looked so wilted when we left, to see what the alienage looked like,” Varric said.

“That place is depressing. Let us speak of it no longer,” Fenris said.

With that the table grew silent, all except for Varric’s scribbling and occasional rustling of papers, and murmuring to himself as he wrote. Fenris and Aveline called it a night early. Bethany and Anders stuck around chatting, while Varric continued writing. Hawke joined sometime later, just as Bethany and Anders were leaving.

“Those two seem to be getting along quite well,” Hawke said, watching Bethany alight with pure joy as she exited with Anders, who was escorting her home before returning to Darktown.

“Huh? Oh ya,” Varric said, looking up for the first time in a while.

“Hawke, you sure know how to stumble into some pretty crazy shit,” Varric said.

“Don’t I know it,” she replied, downing her mug in one go.

“How is Daisy settling in?” Varric asked.

“Daisy? You already assigned her a nickname, that fast?” Hawke asked.

“That fast,” Varric laughed.

“She’s …” Hawke paused. “It’s going to take some time for her to settle in.” They were silent for a moment.

“Did you know that the first time we met Flemeth, I actually asked her if she could teach me how to turn into a dragon?” Hawke said. “Pointless, I know, since I’m not a mage. But I couldn’t resist.”

“Haha. That’s pretty ballsy, Hawke,” Varric said.

“What can I say? I just want to be a dragon,” Hawke said and grinned.

“I know, and that’s why I love you,” Varric laughed.

Hawke checked on Merrill a few days later, to see how she was doing. Leandra had packed Hawke a basket of baked goods as nice “welcome to your new home” gift.

“Hawke,” Merrill said when she answered the door. “I … I didn’t expect to see you so soon.”

“I wanted to see how you were doing,” Hawke said. Merrill invited her inside.

“Oh, you know. I’m … I’m getting by,” Merrill said.

“I have a ‘welcome home’ present for you,” she handed Merrill the basket.

“What this?” Merrill asked, pulling out a small wrapped package. She unwrapped it carefully, to discover a small carved statue of Andraste.

“Ah,” Hawke laughed nervously. “It’s a tradition in Fereldan to give new home owners a statue of Andraste. I … I realized after I gave one to Fenris that maybe it’s not the most appropriate home warming gift for everyone. I honestly don’t know what else to get someone though, in these situations. At least it’s pretty?” Hawke said sheepishly.

“It’s … thank you, Hawke,” Merrill smiled.

“Mother baked sweet rolls and a baguette, another tradition in Fereldan,” Hawke said.

“Thank you, Hawke. It’s a very sweet gesture,” Merrill said.

______________________________________________

This fanfic is based on the amazing Dragon Age games, specifically focusing on the DA2 game. Thank you EA/BIOWARE for such amazing games & characters!

I’m new to tumblr, so please bear with me as I figure out the best formatting.

#dragon age #da2 #f!hawke #merrill #fenris #flemeth #champion of kirkwall #hero of ferelden #fanfic #2020

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haledamage · 5 years

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Pairing: Female Cousland/Nathaniel Howe

Story Summary: Cathain Cousland had been in love with Nathaniel Howe for as long as she can remember. It doesn’t take long after they reunite in Amaranthine to realize she still is.

Chapter Summary: Once, Cait could have walked the road between Vigil's Keep and Amaranthine with her eyes closed. She knew every endless, rainy mile of it as well as she knew the halls of the Vigil. It was nearly as familiar as the walls and flowers and hidden passages of Highever itself - which, regardless of her fondness for Amaranthine, had still been her home.

Once, Cait could have walked the road between Vigil's Keep and Amaranthine with her eyes closed. She knew every endless, rainy mile of it as well as she knew the halls of the Vigil. It was nearly as familiar as the walls and flowers and hidden passages of Highever itself - which, regardless of her fondness for Amaranthine, had still been her home.

But time was more cruel than any darkspawn, and the road to Amaranthine was not as she remembered. It had grown wild, packed dirt and cobblestone now broken by tree roots, overgrown by the encroaching forest, beset by bandits and worse.

They were traveling with a couple of Varel's soldiers - Garevel’s soldiers, technically, but Cait tended to think of everyone in the Vigil as either ‘my people’ or ‘Varel's people.’ Even though Varel himself was one of her people, as loyal as any of the Wardens and he had to deal with a lot more shit than they did.

These soldiers, Jasper and Avina, were… certainly enthusiastic. Young and excited to be on a mission with the Hero of Ferelden, which they insisted on calling Cait instead of any of her actual ranks or, perhaps, her blighted name. She stopped trying to strike up conversation with them before they’d even left sight of the keep.

“Cait,” Anders asked slowly, “why are there children following us?”

“Because we are going on a rescue mission and we need someone with us to bring the girl home. I doubt she’ll want to continue on to the city with us.” Very quietly, she added, “I never thought I’d regret wanting to save someone from kidnappers, but here we are.”

“Look on the bright side!” He slung an arm around her, conveniently blocking them from view by his height alone. “Free cannon fodder!”

“Shhhhh!” She put a hand over his mouth but was laughing as she did.

It was a beautiful day, by Amaranthine standards. The sky was overcast and heavy, but it didn’t smell like rain was due yet and the air was warm with the promise of summer around the corner. Good day to embarrass some kidnappers and maybe visit the market in the city.

Cait was trying very hard not to think about Delilah. Delilah, who had been her sister in all but blood since the moment they were born, less than a week apart. Delilah, who Cait hadn’t seen in three years, who had gotten married and she hadn’t known about it.

“You weren’t at breakfast this morning,” Anders said, quiet and dangerously casual.

“I slept in.”

“I didn’t know you knew how to do that,” he said, which she elbowed him for. “You know, Nathaniel wasn’t at breakfast either. What an interesting coincidence.”

She knew her face must be red. She refused to acknowledge it. “Don't ask if you don't want the answer, Anders."

“That is an answer.” He looked everywhere but at her, but his arm tightened around her shoulder in a quick, one-sided hug. “Good for you. If he breaks your heart, I'll set him on fire."

She hugged him, wrapping her arms around his still too skinny waist. It was awkward, and they tripped over each other a little on the uneven road, but it was good. “Noted. And appreciated.”

He pointed behind them before she could say anything else. “Not to interrupt, but I think Oghren is giving your baby soldiers some of that swill he ferments in his backpack.”

“Of course he is.” She sighed, weary to the depths of her soul, then turned around to see if he was telling the truth. “Oghren, if they pass out, you’re the one carrying them. We’ve got a schedule to keep.”

-------

“Leader up front, two flanking” Cait muttered.

“Three archers in the back,” Nathaniel added, barely loud enough for her to hear.

“That bridge is a bottleneck,” Oghren grunted, “Either get across it real sodding quick or wait for them to come to us.”

“One on the left is a mage,” Anders said, nodding briefly toward the woman in question.

“There are four in the tent,” Justice said sternly, much louder than the rest of them. “One of them is afraid.”

That meant ten bandits total just to shake down a nobleman that was supposed to come alone? There was no way Ser Bensley would have left this cove under his own power. Wouldn’t be enough against five Wardens, though.

Nathaniel put a hand on Cait’s shoulder and leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Please tell me you aren't honestly considering giving these bastards money.”

“Of course not. Trust me, remember?” She touched his hand, then shrugged it off. “Be ready.”

Then she strode ahead, staying three paces in front of the others. She tried to affect the cocky swagger Zevran always wore into these situations; he had a way of convincing people he was supposed to be there, no matter where it was. Cait was pretty sure she just looked angry.

The man she’d identified as the leader confirmed her suspicions when he called out to her. “We told Bensley to come himself. Alone.”

Cathain leaned against a small rock outcropping, relaxed and casual and blocking herself off from anything that might try to sneak up on her. “Yes, well, I was in the neighborhood so I thought I'd come on his behalf.”

“And who the fuck are you, princess?” He looked her over. She didn’t miss the way he paused at the griffon on her chest, again at her knives.

“I'm the Warden-Commander, who the fuck are you?” The two bandits behind him took an involuntary step back. Cait bared her teeth. She was already bored with this. “Where's the girl?”

“Where's the money?”

She held up a small pouch, letting the coins jingle within. “Give me the girl or you won’t see a single blighted copper of it.”

They dragged a young girl out of a nearby tent. The girl, Eileen Bensley, couldn’t have been any older than sixteen and was terrified past the point of being able to speak. Her dress was ripped and filthy, her hair so dirty Cait couldn’t even tell what color it was, and she flinched at the slightest movement. Rage hardened in her chest at the tear streaks on Eileen’s face; she fought hard to keep her hands off her weapons.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” she said, as gently as she could manage. She waited until she nodded before addressing the apparent leader again, voice full of steel, “Hand her over.”

“Give me the money first.” He dropped several points in her estimation of his intelligence.

“Hand. Her. Over.” She stared him down, impatient, unintimidated, furious. He blinked first.

He nodded brusquely at one of the men holding the girl and they shoved her forward. Cait caught her before she fell and she clung to her, sobbing into her armor. “I've got you, sweetheart,” she said, not taking her eyes off of the bandit leader. She brushed a bit of the girl’s hair back from her face. “Eileen, right? You're safe now, Eileen. We're going to get you home to your father. Nathaniel.” Nate gently pried the girl from Cait and led her to Jasper and Avina, speaking gently to her the whole way.

“My money,” demanded the dead man.

“You know what I think?” Now that Eileen was safe, Cait no longer bothered to sound the slightest bit friendly. “I think I don't want kidnappers on my lands. I think that girl was the only thing keeping you alive.” She drew and threw a dagger in one fluid motion. The leader surged into action, but too late; It caught him in the throat, and she watched with a cold gratification as his body slumped to the ground.

There had been twelve of them, in the end. Two were hiding behind a large rock outcropping, behind the mage where her magic had obscured them from Justice’s senses. It didn’t make a difference.

“Search the area,” Cait ordered. “Make sure there aren’t any others hidden in the shadows. And check the bodies. If they weren’t working alone, I want to know about it.” Trusting that her orders would be followed, Cait turned her full attention back to Eileen.

The girl stared up at her with wide eyes. She hugged Byron, fingers clutched in his fur, and he tried to make himself look as harmless as possible for a war dog. She was so small. Cait couldn’t remember ever being that small. But Eileen met her eyes and held them, and no longer looked afraid. “Are you really the Hero of Ferelden?”

Cait fought not to cringe. “Some people have called me that. I prefer to be called by my name. I’m Cait.”

“I’m Eileen. But you knew that already. Did my father send you?”

“He did. This is Jasper and Avina.” She pointed at Jasper, hovering awkwardly nearby; he was barely older than Eileen. “They work for me and they're going to get you home safe to your family, okay?” She threw the pouch of gold that she’d shown the kidnappers at Avina, who fumbled it a little before catching it. “Anything she needs, get it for her. If that isn’t enough, let me know how much I owe you when you get back to the Vigil.”

“Yes, ser!” They said together as they actually, honest-to-Maker, saluted her.

She watched them leave until the forest swallowed them, then turned back to the bandit camp. It didn't contain much: a few crates of half-spoiled food, a pile of firewood, the single tent they'd been keeping Eileen in.

Oghren and Justice found no other bandits; the cove ended at a steep cliff down to the Amaranthine Ocean and no other places someone might hide. Nathaniel returned her dagger from the body of the leader, as well as a blade he'd drawn but never had a chance to use.

She gave it a cursory spin, checking the balance. It was front-heavy, the blade of much denser metal than the hilt, but it hummed ever-so-slightly from some kind of enchantment. She stuck it in her belt to inspect more thoroughly when she had time.

Anders was the last to return, bearing a small stack of papers for her. Most were drafts of threatening letters to Ser Bensley. One was a half-written and clearly heavily forced note written by Eileen; most of it was written in a shaky hand, but it suddenly ended in a large, angry DON'T GIVE THEM ANYTHING PAPA and then a blot of spilled ink. Cait swelled with pride for the girl. She'd fought back where she could.

The last note made Cait's stomach drop to her knees. It was orders to the lead kidnapper from his apparent patron, signed ‘burn this letter once received’ with a very familiar signature and the symbol of a bear on a yellow and white shield.

She'd known Esmerelle was behind a lot of the issues still plaguing Amaranthine. She knew in her gut that the bann was also behind the plot against her, though she still didn't have any proof. But that bear… that made things much more complicated.

She held it out to Nathaniel without a word and he stared for a moment uncomprehending. “That's my family crest. Why is it here?”

“Any chance your sister could be behind the assassination plot?” Anders asked hesitantly.

“No.” Cait and Nathaniel said simultaneously. She added, “Delilah never had much taste for subterfuge. If she wanted me dead, she'd do it herself. She’s like her brother, in that way.”

“Then they're trying to make the old Arl into a martyr.”

Cait pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache building behind her eyes. “Of course they are. Oust the Cousland usurper and put the arling back in the hands of it's rightful owners.”

“Such a shame that the remaining Howes have been brainwashed by the usurper,” Anders said sourly, voicing exactly what Cait was thinking. “They have no choice but to remove them as well.”

Cait sighed. She hated politics. “We should get moving if we want to get to the city by nightfall.” She folded up the papers and stuck them in her bag, then led the way back to the road.

-------

They did not, in fact, arrive in the city before nightfall. They walked through the main gate just after full dark, when the market was closed but the streets weren't empty yet. The open doorways of taverns beckoned to them, beacons of light and laughter in the night.

As they walked past the first one, a seedy bar with light peeking out through the uneven boards of the walls, Cait became aware of an additional presence at her side.

“You are getting complacent, my dear Warden,” Zevran said with a sly smile. “If I were an assassin, you would already be dead.”

“You are an assassin,” Cait said, feeling an answering smile spread across her own face.

“Then it is a good thing for you that I am retired.” He chuckled. “Is it strange to say that I missed you?”

“It’s barely been two weeks,” she said fondly, “but I missed you too.”

“Ah, but there is someone else who has missed you as well. She's waiting for you.”

Cait froze, suddenly nervous. She fidgeted with a buckle on her armor. “She is? It’s not too late? Maybe we should wait until morning. I don’t want to impose.”

“I have seen you face down demons without blinking, but you’re scared of a merchant’s wife?” Anders laughed, appearing behind Zevran. Cait had kind of forgotten he was there. She’d remember to feel guilty about that later, when she was in a calmer state of mind.

“I don’t care about the opinions of my enemies.”

Nathaniel put his hand on her back, warm and reassuring. “If we don’t go see her tonight, she’ll just hunt us down.”

Cait laughed and it settled her nerves. “You’re right. Of course you’re right.” She turned to Anders and gave him a handful of sovereigns from her coin purse. “Whichever tavern you pick, get Nate and I rooms.”

“Are you sure?” He asked, but he took her money anyway. “You must not know the kind of places I drink at.”

“Whatever it is, I guarantee I’ve slept in worse.”

Then they left, following Zevran down the winding, cobblestone streets of Amaranthine. Cait hadn't often been here at night; 'the city wasn't safe for children', Adria, the Howes’ governess, had always said, 'especially not for pretty young ladies'.

It was beautiful. The windows shone like fireflies, warm light reflecting on the stone of the streets and buildings until the whole city seemed to glow. Jewel of the North, indeed.

Delilah's house was small but tidy, in a quiet corner just off the market district. The lights were on, and Cait could see shadows moving around inside. Zevran knocked before she could try to back out again.

The door burst open and a tiny woman with the same dark hair and pale eyes as Nathaniel sprang out and threw herself into her brother's startled arms. He wrapped himself around her, nearly dwarfing her entirely, and they stayed like that for a long, quiet moment.

From somewhere within the tangle of Howes, a delicate arm snaked out toward Cait. “Come on then,” said Delilah's stern, sweet voice. “This is a family reunion, Caitie Cousland. That means you too.”

They enveloped her as soon as she stepped close. She couldn’t tell which arms belonged to which person; she pressed her face into the nearest shoulder and willed the tears building in her eyes not to fall.

She didn’t know how much time had passed before Delilah cleared her throat and stepped back, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her dress. “Well, come on inside. Dinner’s getting cold. You too, Zevran, don’t think I don’t see you hiding back there, you aren’t as good at it as you think.” She turned and walked inside, assuming that the rest of them would follow.

The inside of the house was as cozy and tidy as the outside, filled with the smell of baked goods. A man with light brown hair and a nervous smile stepped out of the kitchen, wearing an apron covered in flour. He shook Nate’s hand and said, “Albert Reese. You must be Nathaniel.”

“I am. Pleasure to meet you.”

Albert offered Cait his hand next. “I know who you are. Everyone in town’s got something to say about you,” he said, sounding so genuinely friendly that she couldn’t help but smile.

“They’re probably untrue. Definitely exaggerated,” she said and Albert laughed.

“My Lilah tells some wild stories about you too.” He started walking back toward the kitchen and they all followed.

“Those are likely true, I’m afraid.”

Dinner was delicious, the best meal Cait had had since Nan died, and by the time they’d finished dessert she was already trying to figure out how to convince them to come live at the Vigil. Albert was charming, with a warm smile and easy laugh, and was clearly, hopelessly in love with his wife. Delilah shuffled around the house, never seeming to stop moving; Cait wondered if she actually thought she was hiding the roundness of her belly under the loose housecoat she wore over her dress, or if she just didn’t want to talk about it yet.

“So how long have you been back?” Delilah asked her brother as they all settled in the little sitting room.

“Two months back in Ferelden. One in Amaranthine.” Nathaniel laced his fingers with Cait’s as he relaxed on the sofa next to her. “I didn’t know where to find you or if you were alive, otherwise I’d have been here sooner.”

Delilah looked skeptical, but turned her attention to Cait. “And you’ve been here a month. And clearly possess the resources to have got in touch sooner.”

“I didn’t think I’d be welcome,” Cait said honestly. “Nate tried to kill me as soon as I got here.”

“Nathaniel Howe!” Delilah scolded, looking like she was considering throwing her teacup at him.

Cait laughed. “Relax, Lilah. It was a misunderstanding. We’ve worked it out.”

“I see that,” she muttered, but set her tea down at least. “I heard about what happened to your family, Caitie. I am so sorry.”

“It’s…” she started to say okay, but that was a lie. She amended, “It’s not your fault.”

“I hear you’re the one that killed Father,” Delilah said, voice hard. All Cait could do was nod. “Good. It should have been you if it couldn’t be me. Good riddance to bad rubbish.”

“Delilah! The man may have done some terrible things, but he was still our father!” Nathaniel said, but he just sounded resigned, sad, instead of angry. Cait squeezed his hand.

“You weren't here, Nate. You didn’t see what he became. Violent, paranoid, lashing out at everyone over the smallest slight. I ran away as soon as I could. That’s how I met Albert.” The anger faded from her face as she smiled at her husband. “He saw me in the market and offered me a loaf of bread and a job at his bakery. We’ve been together ever since.”

“And when are you due?” Cait was happy to move to friendlier subjects.

“Due? Delilah, are you pregnant?” Nathaniel sat forward on the couch, studying his sister.

Cait laughed. “How could you miss it? That baby’s almost as big as she is!”

Delilah put a hand on the swell of her belly, leaning back against Albert to really bring attention to it. “Soon. Before summer, likely. Do you want to feel her kick?”

Watching Nathaniel greet his niece or nephew for the first time was a revelation Cait had not been prepared for. His smile was boyish and joyful and exceedingly attractive, and when he turned it toward her it felt like a punch in the gut. She’d never given much thought to having children before, but for just a moment it overwhelmed her. She pushed it down, bottled it up as well as the wave of panic that followed in its wake, and by the time Delilah approached her, her smile was easy and uncomplicated again.

“Hello, sweetheart,” she said to Delilah’s belly, feeling the strange shift and twitch of the life growing within, “I’m your Auntie Cait. I can’t wait to meet you.”

Delilah’s smile was warm, but her eyes were shrewd as she stared at the spot on the sofa where Cait and Nathaniel’s hands were still linked between them. “So how long has this been going on?” she asked, as if she didn't know. As if Cait hadn’t confessed everything to her in the dark of their shared bedroom, as if she wasn’t the only person alive who had ever heard Cait say ‘love’ and ‘Nathaniel’ in the same terrified sentence.

“Four days,” said Cait and it wasn’t quite a lie. At the same time, Nathaniel said “thirteen years,” but it wasn’t quite the truth.

“Uh-huh,” said Delilah, somehow seeing through both of them to the truth in between. But she relented, and returned to her seat next to her husband, and the conversation turned to lighter things.

It was very late when they left with many hugs and promises to visit soon and often. Zevran stayed behind, had apparently been staying with them for days. Cait was too tired to question it.

They found Anders at the Crown and Lion Inn, still drinking merrily and losing a lot of money at cards. The patrons were apparently too drunk to notice he was a mage, or simply didn’t care, even as he used a bit of frost magic to chill his drink. How refreshing. Anders gave Cait her room key with an exaggerated wink that she didn’t understand until she went upstairs to find Nate was already in her room, their room, having gone up before her while she chatted with the drunken mage. At least he’d gotten them a decent-sized bed.

It had been a good day. Long, emotionally draining, mildly panic-inducing on several different levels she didn’t have the time or energy to examine, but good. She undressed quickly, leaving her armor, weapons, and clothes in an untidy pile in a chair, and crawled into the thankfully clean and surprisingly soft bed. She watched Nathaniel disrobe more slowly, leaving his belongings neatly folded and sorted. It was cute. The novelty of this stage in their relationship was still fresh enough that she couldn’t help lay there and stare at him, gorgeous and graceful and hers.

He climbed into bed and pulled her close and she was asleep within minutes.

-------

Cait woke him the next morning with her lips on his skin and finally took the opportunity to explore him like he'd done to her a few nights ago. Their bed creaked alarmingly under his grip as Nathaniel clenched his fists around the posts of the headboard in an effort to keep them out of her hair. She felt a heady rush at the idea that this was something she was allowed to do now, first thing in the morning or whenever they wanted to. It was almost the same rush she felt watching him shake and gasp as he came undone. He was quick and eager to return the favor, and she didn't last much longer than he had, had no means or desire to defend herself against his clever tongue, and covered her mouth with her hand so she didn't wake the whole inn as she shouted her release.

He grinned against her lips as they curled back up together on the bed. “Good morning.”

“Mmm, it is now.” She chuckled and pulled him down for another kiss. “We should have done this ages ago.”

“I know it's been a while, but we have definitely done this before.” He caressed her back, tracing the scar from the archdemon.

“You know what I mean.”

“I know what you mean.”

Neither of them made any attempt to get out of bed for a long time.

Byron eventually took issue with it and came over to stand next to Cait. When she turned to look his way, he let out a deep, warning boof. If they didn't get moving, he would bring every patron in the building running their way.

They still managed to beat Anders and Oghren downstairs, but Justice sat at a corner table in the bar with a mug of ale in front of him. Cait was pretty sure he'd been in the same place when she'd gone to bed last night.

“Did Anders not get you a room?” she asked as she sat down across from him.

“He did. I preferred to stay here.” His eyes traveled the room, more emotional than she’d ever seen from him before. “There is an energy to this space, of all the souls that have passed through it. It is… enlightening. Invigorating. Are all human cities like this?”

“I… don’t know,” Cait said. “You can see the energy people leave behind? Or feel it?”

“I can feel it. Like the sun on my skin.” Justice held his hand over the table between them. “A man once sat in this chair with a ring in a box, practicing a speech to ask his beloved to marry him. Another was drinking to numb his pain, a persistent headache that had lasted several days. He could not afford to visit a physician, but he could afford another drink.” He dropped his hand to the smooth wood of the tabletop. “Layers upon layers on every surface.”

“That’s beautiful,” she whispered.

“The Vigil must be very noisy for you,” said Nathaniel. “They say it’s been around for thousands of years. I can’t even imagine how many lives have been lived there.”

Justice studied Nate with those too-knowing eyes of his. “You want to know about the lives of your ancestors.” He nodded to himself as if Nathaniel had answered, even though he didn’t say anything. “In the Fade, nothing outlives the spirit that made it. Here, everything is built upon the bones of what came before. Yes, many souls have passed over the stones of Vigil’s Keep. Some of them bore the name Howe. When we return, I will tell you of them.”

The conversation shifted as Anders and Oghren stumbled downstairs and slumped into empty chairs. They looked like they were regretting several of their life choices.

“So!” Cait said, loudly and with more cheer than necessary. She clapped her hands once and grinned as her hungover friends groaned at the noise. “Does anyone have business in the city while we’re here? I know Justice, you wanted to visit Aura. I also need to find a man named Colbert. Apparently he found a gorge in the hills to the west that may lead to the Deep Roads.”

As she spoke, she reached into her bag and pulled out a couple vials, placing one each in front of Anders and Oghren. “Maybe try to limit yourselves next time when you’re on the job, please,” she said sweetly, but she knew they could hear the order in the words; they were hungover, not stupid. “Drink all you want on your own time, but I will not hesitate to drop you into a nest of darkspawn while you’re wasted.”

They both muttered something that sounded like “yes, Commander” as they drank their potions. She gave them a few minutes for the worst of their headaches to fade, and then they all got to work.

Their second meeting with Aura went… better. She didn’t panic at the sight of her husband’s possessed body, which was a start. Justice told her, fumbling but sincere, that he mourned Kristoff’s loss with her, that he would avenge him. Cait didn’t know Aura well enough to read the look on her face, but she hoped she found comfort in his words. He stood as little taller as they left.

Talking with Colbert and his partner Micah was enlightening, but frustrating. Colbert said a lot of things that didn’t matter and Micah said barely anything at all. They spoke in circles for what felt like hours until Cait gave in and threw money at them to get an answer that made sense. A couple sovereigns magically got her exactly the information she needed.

Cait wished a couple sovereigns could solve the problem Colbert’s story brought to light. An open path between the surface and the Deep Roads, in a land beset by new types of darkspawn. There was no way this could be coincidence, and no way Cait could ignore it either.

“I won’t order any of you to come with me,” she said, once they’d moved away from the city crowds. “The Deep Roads are miserable. It’s either a slog through empty, lightless tunnels a hundred miles underground, or it’s a constant battle versus endless hordes of darkspawn, and there’s not much in between. Volunteers only.”

“I go where you go,” said Nathaniel firmly.

“That’s really sweet,” Cait said, and it was. It was hopelessly, stupidly romantic, but she was apparently into that. “but I don’t think you understand what you’re committing to.”

“Then I guess I’ll find out when we get there.”

“Well, I can’t let you have all the fun,” added Anders.

“We’ve been to the Deep Roads together before,” said Oghren. “How much worse can it be?”

“If it is as dangerous as you say, I will not leave you to face it alone,” Justice said.

Cait was torn between indignation that they were all so stubborn to not take the opportunity to stay behind, and humbled that she had such loyal friends. “Thank you. We’ll take the rest of the day to resupply and head out at first light tomorrow. Anything you need to do in the city, do it now. And try to stay sober please.”

#nathaniel howe #cousland/nathaniel howe #dragon age #dragon age awakening #dragon age fic #cait cousland #cait/nate #rhi writes #something might be found #just a little lighthearted fun and rescuing a damsel before we get back to plot stuff #delilah was fun to write

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