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valerie-royeaux · 7 years ago
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Happy Endings
Just a series of sketches of happy endings for some OTPs:
For @mapplestrudel, Rona Norgreen and Dinlas’al’ras;
For @gwen-cousland, Gwen Cousland and Anora Mac Tyr;
For my wife @bloodmagespectre , Elizabeth Amell and Cullen;
And for myself, Hank Shepard and Ashley Williams!
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valerie-royeaux · 8 years ago
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Dragon Age: Origins - Role Playing Game
Hi, everyone!
I started running a DA:O role playing game with a group of friends via Roll20 in... mid-February, I guess. The main goal of this game is to put ALL my ideas and headcannons into this massive RPing project with 4 of the best players I know. I have been testing these ideas in solo games with my wife @element-104 since 2010, so, yeah, I want this to be an apotheosis in my GMing carreer. I’ve posted a few posts about the game already (Thank you SO much for all the feedback, @fereldenpeach), but without giving any context as to what is going on and who the main characters are. So the purpose of this post (and a few others to follow) is to bring you up to speed, generally, on who are the characters, their players, the NPCs and how things are going. Me and Gwen Cousland’s player will be generating most of the content. You can see all the posts related to the game here.
Oh, one more thing: I don’t believe spoilers should be an issue. But they might be! =p So beware.
Background
If you played Dragon Age: Origins, the game, at its beginning, is not very different than the one you find in the videogame. The difference is that this game starts in the spring of 9:29 Dragon, as the characters will slowly advance in their origins towards the main events of the story. As I said before, this is a collection of my headcannons, so here are some of them:
The Grey Wardens are NOT an esteemed order: the Fourth Blight was 400 years ago. While the dwarves of Orzammar and, Cailan specifically, cherish the order, they are very few, with dwindling numbers, and the vast majority of the people do not even know who they are. Put together, the number of Grey Wardens in all of Thedas in 9:29 Dragon would not reach 100.
There is NOT a common language: 8th Century Brittain had a few languages to count. Anyone with a minimum knowledge of language knows a Common Language is a construct that cannot sustain itself. Thus the “English Language” is actually Fereldan. The Orlesians speak French, the Antivans Spanish, etc, etc.
The Dalish are a myth: The Dalish elves inhabit the dense, virgin wilderness, protected from the humans by the very magic of the places they wander through. For all elves who live in human cities, the Dalish are but a tale, and it is the same for the humans.
Magic is rare: The rate of mages to non-mages in the sentient races is about one to every 10,000. The mages are successfully kept in check in the circles, and apostates are very careful about their magic. You can’t go to the Wonders of Thedas in Denerim and buy one robe and a couple of staves.
Sexuality is not open: l really don’t have a reason to say the sexuality taboos of Thedas would be like our world’s. But one of the characters is a lesbian, and the player and I agreed she would prefer her character’s conflicts to be in line with those a lesbian woman would go through in the European middle age. So, in this world, men don’t marry men, women don’t marry women, and any relationship between them is frowned upon, except in few clusters, like the Avvars.
The World is becoming patriarchal: Despite the Chantry and its Prophetess, women in Thedosian society, Ferelden included, are on the way of being only mothers and priestesses. Warring women are increasingly rare, and men are assuming a more decisive role in society. Women are not free to express their sexuality, and a “decent”, “pure” behavior is expected of them. Again, there is nothing in the lore to back this. This was agreed as a conflict source for the female characters, in discussions with their players.
The Templars are NOT able warriors: the knights Templar are an order focused on hunting and guarding mages. Their other duty is guarding chantries. Thus, the Templars are able at wolf-packing individual mages and bringing them down  - either for the capture or the kill. Also, since men cannot join any proper rank in the Chantry, second sons and the male faithful join and spoil its ranks because of their status in secular society. Templars are not apt at massive arm battles, shield walls, wedges, etc. The average Templar would be no match in single combat to the average warrior. But they do can hunt (and hurt) mages.
Timeline & System: As a whole, Thedas is in the technological equivalent of the early 13th Century, exception to full plates, which are the stuff of kings, champions and heroes. The rule system we are using is GURPS.
Characters & Players
So, now that you all know the world state we’re in, here is a bit about the players and characters:
Felandaris
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An apostate woman, recently escaped from the Circle with the help of Templar Bran. In her youth, she had been raped and abused repeatedly by Knight-Captain Kendells, brother of the Arl of Denerim. In hopes of losing herself in a mass of people such that her philactery would not be able to pinpoint her, she made her way to the Denerim alienage. There, she wanted to provide healing and succor to the elves, and find a shelter amid the faceless mass who live around the Vhenadhal. 
She starts the game trying to manage to stay hidden, while at the same time dealing with the issues the elves face.
Beorn Molloy
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Beorn was the eldest son of a family of freeholders who could afford to send him to become a Templar. He was sent to the monastery against his will as soon as he became a grown, tall, strong giant of man, who could stand against his abusive father and the mistreatment of his mother and more-than-beloved-sister. As a child he learned of the history of the Blights and always dreamed of becoming a Grey Warden (which is an exception to the general knowledge of people about the Wardens). He is a man of deep faith and mistrust in the Chantry as an organization. Beorn started the game in his and Alistair’s joining ritual, after having been recruited along with this only friend in that monastery.
Beorn’s player is also a Dragon Age veteran, and the one whose insisting led me to agree and run this game.
Fionn “Giantsbane” ar Morwen o’ Stonebear
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Fionn is an Avvar barbarian who never managed to adhere completely to the many superstitions of his people. From an early age, he realized the Lady of the Skies, Korth Mountain-Father and Hakkon Wintersbreath were flimsy deities who toyed with the destiny of their followers, and thus he bade them no love. This questioning behavior led him to be somehow of a joke theme among his fellow avvar, but never an outcast. The fact that he was not the tallest or strongest of the hold’s warriors added to the general perception of Fionn as a quiet trickster.
Fionn was always fascinated by his opposite: Astrid Cirildotten o’ Wyrmhold, an enormous, strong, battle-driven woman who encompassed all of his desire. He did attempt to kidnap her and marry her according to Avvar custom - only to fail for being unable of carrying her weight - despite her not resisting at all.
In the beginning of the game Astrid is married to another member of the Stonebear hold who did manage to kidnap her. But his mind is distracted with the strange sickness of Storvacker, the hold-beast.
Fionn’s player never played Dragon Age before!
Gwendoline “Gwen” Cousland
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Even though Gwen’s player never played Dragon Age before, @element-104 insisted (and so did I!) that she should play a Cousland. As you can see from my url, me, as veteran Cousland, walked her through the specifics of the family, and she created this character even though she has no idea of how the Cousland origin plays in the video game. The difference from the default Cousland is that Eleanor, her mom, died at childbirth, and Bryce married a younger woman years after. 
Gwen has been brought up shielded by the eternal bliss of being a younger daughter, and spoiled by a father, a brother and a grandfather who love her very much and saw to her every whim - including allowing her tomboyish ways with bow and arrow, and allowing her to refuse every possible suitor - even king Cailan himself.
Gwen starts the game accompanying Fearchar MacEanring, her grandfather, in an expedition to hunt a weird bear who Fearchar wants as a prize. In this expedition, he suggests that Gwen should go and meet a good friend of his - another rebel woman, Bann Alfstanna Eremon - in a trip to Denerim, where she intends to confront the son of the Arl of Denerim about a series of slanders he has been saying about Alfstanna. But of course - only after Gwen helps him hunt the bear.
This is all for now - I’ll follow up with another post about the NPCs, and probably another with the current events so far. 
Cheers!
-J
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valerie-royeaux · 8 years ago
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Lulaby
So, here’s another post from the Dragon Age RP I’m GMing. It sheds some light on what is going on in this post. It is written by Gwen Cousland’s player. As usual, please, avoid spoilers in the comments. =)
The party for the Grey Wardens is a success. They seem to enjoy themselves and the nobles also have their fun, well… most of them do. For some of them the night has only just begun.
Gwen, Anora and the happily intoxicated engaged to be married couple are escorted to a waiting carriage just outside the royal palace. As they approach the waiting transport, Alfstanna walks, more like wobbles ahead pulling Fearchar by the hand so they can climb in the front seat. Gwen doesn't notice the quick exchange and curious glances between them as they move past her for she's far too entranced by the shy smiles Anora is sending her way.
As she hears her grandpa whistling at the horses to get them going, she feels the butterflies in her stomach getting restless as she remembers Anora's words from earlier.
We'll have our party later.
As she looks towards Anora to ask when their party can officially begin, the words die on her lips at the sight of the smoldering look she's receiving. She doesn't need any further encouragement and her hands quickly find Anora's waist, pulling her closer and into a searing kiss.
It's a short drive and by the time they arrive, the occupants of the backseat are already flushed and out of breath. They take a few moments to recompose themselves before they step out of the carriage. Gwen throws her goodnights over her shoulder as she pulls Anora inside. She doesn't even glance in Fearchar and Alfstanna's direction or she'd see the blatantly knowing look they share.
They rush up the stairs in a fit of giggles like two little girls who just got home from some boring gathering and who can finally go to their room to play. It'd be the same if only their definition of 'play' didn't divert so far from playing pretend with dolls.
"Finally." Gwen says out of breath as she reaches their destination. She rushes inside pulling Anora by the hand as she turns to close the door behind them.
She doesn't even have time to turn to face Anora before she feels a pair of hands on her hips spinning her around. Anora presses her body flush against hers, effectively pinning her against the door before whispering huskily in her ear.
"I'll say, my love. Do you have any idea how hard it was watching you dancing all night and having to keep my hands to myself?"
Gwen gasps, surprised by the forwardness in her words. She keeps forgetting about this bold Anora until she finds herself trapped under her stare. As Anora presses her body further into hers, taking a hold of her neck with her lips, she releases a low throaty moan.
"I don't know…" She puffs out between moans. "Why don't you tell me?" Anora stops her assault on Gwen's neck to stare into her eyes. Seeing a teasing smirk on plump lips that gets promptly erased by a hungry kiss. Gwen smiles into the kiss, more than happy to be overpowered by the imposing figure before her.
"Hmm… What… have I told you… about teasing?" Anora punctuates her words with kisses delivered to any reachable bit of exposed skin she can find.
"That you love it?" It's getting harder to keep the smirk on her lips and her eyes opened under Anora's assault.
"Hmm… maybe I do." She stops and looks into dark blue eyes. "I love you, Gwen." And as she's done before, she looks for confirmation, for the truth in Gwen's eyes. And in an instant her smirk is gone, replaced by a genuine smile.
"And I love you, Anora… so much." She says without shying away from the weight present in those greenish eyes. She can't read past the affection in them though, as if a thin veil covered what lies beyond it.
Anora just sighs… long and drawn out as she relaxes into the embrace. They stay like that for a while, just holding each other. Gwen's back against the wooden door and Anora's body pressed against hers. As time passes, Gwen can almost hear the cogs and gears turning inside the blonde's head. Worried she might be over thinking the situation or even reconsidering it, Gwen calls her attention.
"Hey…" she calls softly. "Come here." She pulls Anora's hand towards the bed where she lies down, pulling Anora to lay her head on her shoulder so they can resume their embrace. She doesn't know what's going on behind the veil, all she knows is how she feels about it. As she tips Anora's face upwards to look into her eyes, the expression she sees there is utterly unreadable… but that doesn't stop her, not for a second.
"You know… I can hear you thinking from up here." She smiles and Anora smiles back, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes.
"I've been thinking too... a lot. About us and about everything that we've talked about and everything that's been left unsaid." She takes a deep breath before continuing, purposefully avoiding Anora's eyes, afraid of what she might see in that unreadable stare.
"I know your situation is a lot more… delicate than mine, and I'm pretty certain that you think things through a lot more than I do. I tend to just react and feel, not so much analyze and think. I really respect that about you, Anora. I admire it."
When Gwen doesn't continue, too lost in her own thoughts, Anora coaches her. "Go on, Gwen. I'm listening." After another intake of breath, Gwen continues.
"Right… Hmm… I think you already know how I feel… I could be wrong but I'm quite sure I've managed to get my feelings across. But sometimes… sometimes I'm not sure that's enough." Gwen can feel Anora moving to perhaps rebut what she said, so she speaks before Anora has the chance.
"You don't… you don't have to say anything. That's just how I feel sometimes... I feel like you feel like you can't trust me. And I guess that's fair…? I mean, you said it yourself, we've only just met. I know you spent the last five years with someone that you felt you couldn't trust completely. I know you could be doubting your own intuition about us and I feel like there's not much more that I could do to show you that this is real. At least for me…" Her last words are spoken so softly that even Anora who's right next to her has to strain a little to hear. The blonde doesn't say anything. She just lies there with one hand over Gwen's heart, drawing small patterns on the clothed surface.
Gwen doesn't even notice that Anora steals quick glances her way every now and then. She's still rummaging through her brain, trying to find everything she wanted to say to Anora while she has the chance, while she has the guts to rationalize her own feelings. It's strange, maybe it's the hand on her chest, but she feels a weight on her heart, something that's keeping her from breathing fully, from relaxing completely in Anora's embrace.
After a few more moments of silence, Gwen sighs and starts again.
"You asked me if I wanted to be your queen. And at first I thought you were asking me if I wanted the same things as you, not in a sense of wanting to share the throne and its power and responsibilities with you, but in a sense of sharing your life with you. But I'm not so sure anymore, I'm not so sure I understand you all that well. And the truth is… I don't mind. The parts of you that you allowed me to see are enough for me, Anora. They are enough for me to know that I love you." This time she looks Anora in the eyes and it's hard not being able to identify what it is that she sees in them, but it's too late to back down, too late to turn around from the feeling she gets in her heart when their eyes meet like this. It's stronger than any rational thought she might have, from any doubt her mind might try to impose into her heart. She's tired of thinking about it… she just wants to feel… and that's what she does, releasing all the tension in her body she simply lets the words roll out of her as they come.
"I love you for your courage and I love you for the tiny bits of fear that I see slipping through the cracks. I love you for your demanding presence and I love you for the way you melt under my touch. I love you for the way you love yourself and I love you for the way you love me. And there's nothing I'd love more than for you to let me love you... all of you, not just the parts you've allowed me to see so far."
"I understand that your life is bigger than this. I truly do." She squeezes Anora's hand, making her look up into Gwen's eyes. "I get that being queen is a big deal for you but that's just one part of you and it's only a reflection of one of the reasons that I love you, it's not one of them. People live for different things. Even you and I… we're different."
When she looks up again she sees Anora looking at her, her usually carefully constructed mask, that's been failing as time passes, is not quite there. The veil however is still there, teasing Gwen as she sees hints of different emotions playing behind it. She wants it gone, more than she's ever wished for anything in her life. And if she has to bare her heart and expose everything she is and everything Anora means to her to achieve it… well then… that's exactly what she's going to do next.
She starts out softly, quietly allowing the words to flow through her lips.
"Some people live for the fortune Some people live just for the fame Some people live for the power Some people live just to play the game"
She looks up to see the reaction she's getting and she sees a million different questions reflected in Anora's expression. But the one thing she doesn't see is indifference. So she sings the next couple of lines, softly still, but putting all the emotion and truth she can into it.
"Some people think that the physical things define what's within
And I've been there before, but that life's a bore
So full of the superficial"
The truth in her words hit Anora with full force. Even if she didn't realize before, she can tell that Gwen is opening her heart to her, that she's allowing her to see how she sees the world and how she feels deep inside.
Gwen looks down at their joint hands before singing the next part in her full voice.
"Some people want it all
But I don't want nothing at all
If it don't have you, babe
If I don't have you, babe"
At this point Anora's eyes are sparkling with unshed tears and she brings one of her hands to her face in an attempt to hide her surprise. Gwen reaches over and takes the hand back, kissing it gently before continuing her confession with a loving look.
"Some people want diamond rings
Some just want everything
But everything means nothing
If I don't have you"
When Gwen feels Anora's body shaking from a sob she stops singing and pulls her closer, holding her in a warm embrace as she continues humming the song. She doesn't say anything else. It's Anora's turn to speak when she's ready and it's up to her to decide what to do with Gwen's love now that she's given it away.
And cradled by Gwen's lullaby they fall asleep in each other's arms, onward to the land of dreams where there are no masks, where there is no fear. Where love can be as endless and as beautiful as they feel it in their hearts.
Anora shall respond! =p
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valerie-royeaux · 8 years ago
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Spring
Some consequences of the last session of our RPG table. I swear I’ll post what is going on one day!
“And she thinks I am the one who goes so out of reach...”
Still it made Anora proud how Gwen strove to stand tall, despite her fiancee failing to hold back the tears after the conversation with Bryce.
Fiancee. 
Anora felt surprised at how easily the word came to her mind. Not her lips - her mind, her mind’s voice, her mind’s eye: it cast a whole new glow over Gwen’s saddened, battered countenance. It painted those first bewildered, innocent smiles over the Cousland’s frown. Anora’s eyes moved from the sunken shoulders to the modest golden ring in her finger. 
Engaged. To another woman. To Gwen Cousland.
Gwen would likely not be able to perceive the smile that flashed, quickly, on Anora’s lips. And even if she did, Anora feared the other woman would think it due to a clever ploy, a breach in Bryce’s defenses and arguments, the thread’s end that would bind the Couslands’ full support to Anora’s plight for Ferelden’s throne. Of course, these things whispered rushing through the queen’s mind, but the queen’s mind was a blur, a blurb, backdrop and tear drops behind Anora’s hand. A hand with just the one engagement ring. A hand free from the golden band-shackle lost in one of Gwen’s drawers.
“You should have allowed me to have one ready for you!”
“Sorry -- What?” Gwen replied, snapping out of her gloomy trance.
“Nothing, love.” Anora said in a sly smile. That very particular one Gwen loved so much. “Come.” Maybe the tone she used was also that specific loving-commanding that did indeed command Gwen’s sighs? She held Gwen by the hand, feeling bothered and at bliss by the unusual feeling of the golden circle in between her fingers, in between Gwen’s. Through the corridors and hallways, Anora could not believe she managed to put the room where Bryce would meet Cailan and Arl Urien so far back, in the deeper recesses of her mind.
The women reached the Cousland’s state winter garden, in fervent bloom in the last days of the very apt Bloomingtide month. Anora liked the old, stern Teviner names for the months. But 9:29 Dragon did not have a Molioris. That year, it was Bloomingtide. She guided them to a stone bench under a birch tree. The green leaves matched Gwen’s dress - always green. Anora loved that.
“This is where you first met me. Anora.” She continued forcing her voice through Gwen’s protest. “No. When Alfstanna introduced you to me, she did not introduce me to you. This is where you first saw me. Unfortunately, or maybe not - in the arms of another woman.” She paused, on purpose, letting that sink on Gwen and holding a firm grip on her hands  - the brunette would feel resistance if she moved them away. Her eyes, too, they assailed Gwen’s - they were in love.
“They feel like silly youngling affairs, those days. That time with Celene is a blur. That night with Celene is a blur. There is only one thing I see clearly from that night: Celene’s shoulder and hair framing your face, my love. Your pure, radiant smile. You caught my eyes that night. You snapped my thoughts.”
Anora looked up at the birch tree above them. “I want this to be our special place, my love. I want this to be my engagement gift. This garden is our garden. And this spring is our spring.” And finally, she laid upon Gwen a pure, radiant smile. That other specific one Gwen loved so much.
It didn’t feel like spring, not at all. The rain was unforgiving, the cold chilled through the moist into the bones, and it was not fair, it was not fair at all! The look of despair in her mage-sister’s face drove through Adaia’s flesh the same blades she was not able to pierce the Skeleton-thing with. The elven woman simply dove into her sister’s arm, pulling her into a gripping hug that assured her own self more than the human that everything would be alright. She didn’t need to look at Alistair’s despairing face to pull him into that hug too. The man did not resist. The three of them pressed themselves together, in silence, against the cold, against the rain, against the shivering through of the golden crown on the mage’s hand.
Truth be told, Adaia: this was more than you signed-up for. Being a Grey Warden was supposed be an easy ride. An easy way to make some money, live off the king’s purse and larder, get something back to Shiani. Now... Now you are soaked in rain in this Maker-forsaken place called Ostagar, after having being humiliated by one of the senior wardens, and abandoned by the other one. Surrounded by thousands of Darkspawn. Oh, Maker! she could feel them! By the thousands, lurking, communing, hundreds of feet beneath the ruin’s cliff.
She wanted to tell them it would be alright. She wanted to tell them they would be alright, her Warden-siblings; that, as usual, she would take care of them. Yet, she knew it was a lie. She was desperate to hear those things herself. To hear that Octavius would come back from wherever he went to. That Ser Knight was a good sport and not a bully. That Fionn and Astrid were arriving with that Avvar certainty of theirs. That she would be able to cuddle with her mage-sister in a warm bed and be healed of everything. She wanted sunshine. She wanted it to be spring again. 
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valerie-royeaux · 8 years ago
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Snares
Another post for the DA RPG game I am running. Gwen Cousland’s player really wanted to know how Celene would receive Anora’s parting letter. As usual, please avoid spoilers in the comments! =)
The letter lays limp on the folds and shines of the finest blue dress in the empire. Hands gloved in white velvet rest next to the missive, their paper-like stillness assailed by the faintest, intermittent, nervous and invisible shivers. No perfume rises from the parting words; no love curves the frowny lips in one of the few sincere smiles they can perform.
“What did she write this time, ma belle? You don’t usually look this distressed when she writes.”
The empress turns to the elven woman on her bed with a dismissive smirk, and the overall calm and perpetual frown of her face does not convey the waves of disappointment assailing her chest. Yet, Celene knew Briala would not buy it - she needs to pepper the lies with some speckles of truth. “She wants us to part ways. There is a Blight, she says. Which, in her own words...” Celene lifts the unfolded finger to the height of her eyes’ scorn, “...blights our plans. She does have a gift for words”.
The elf sniggers and stretches lazily over the silk sheets - a lazy cat, unafraid. “I am positive you suffer, Celene. I know she had ensnared you. You must admit it”.
“You know me, mon amour. Way too well.” The empress stood, turning her back to the woman on her bed, exposing her neck and the myriad buttons of her dress to the elf’s mercy. “I do have allowed her to ensnare me. Par le Créateur, I have fallen prey to many a snare!”
Silence ensued, as the elf stood slowly from the bed, always with quiet, unhasted movements, allowing the rising and falling of Celene’s back to speak its case with enough time. No frown in Briala’s smirk - she actually contained her joy better than Celene did her disappointment. “Will you do something about it?”, Briala asked.
“Anora has to take care of her country.” Celene paused. Her breathing shouted again. “What I will do, mon amour, is nothing. Rien. I do know how to navigate my snares, after all. Worry not - this did not trap me”.
The elven fingers took their time in each button. Celene’s long neck was safe, coated in armor of heavy jewelry. “Gaspard, our dear cousin, though: he may want to do something about it. It is a good thing Anora will have her mind free to deal with it.”
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valerie-royeaux · 8 years ago
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Wrong
Bryce Cousland had finally made it to Denerim. The Kendells ships still blazed on the harbour. Gwen, on her father’s war tent, revealed to him not only that she loved women - but that she loved Cailan’s wife. The king had wronged the Cousland in so many levels, Bryce was ready to defy him. But not the Guerrins, heirs to the throne by right, should Cailan fall. Highever would not support Anora over Eamon. When told this by Gwen, Anora did not flinch: “...then the Guerrins must fall too.”
(text by Gwen’s player)
A couple of minutes pass after Anora shares her plans to inherit the throne once Cailan is 'deposed'. Gwen has yet to say any words cradled in Anora's embrace. Her inner turmoil proving to be stronger than her superficial thoughts, imprisoning her mind in a whirlwind of emotions without being able to grasp at any single one.
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'Us'. Why does it bother me so that you include me in your dreams of grandeur? Why does it feel so wrong to think of being by your side when you face it all to achieve what your heart desires? You shared your dreams and your fears with me and in my loving reverie I misunderstood the implications they carried. Now I must face them alone in an internal battle to end the doubt and quench my own fears. I have but myself to blame for that; me and my inability to perceive the world for what it is. I feel so burdened by your expectations of me. After days of living in the clouds by your side I feel our fairytale has come to an end and we've been thrown back to earth as reality comes crashing down on us, on our happily ever after. I should have seen it coming; I should have known what tomorrow brings, and now that tomorrow is here I've been caught unaware by the winds of change blowing my way. And as I stand by this precipice considering if our love could survive the fall, your gaze betrays you, your walls crumbling before me even as you try to hide behind them. I can see by the uncertainty reflected in your eyes that you already jumped. You jumped and you left me behind. I want to follow you, but I'm scared, I feel trapped inside my own mind, a hostage to your words, to the dimension of your ambitions and what they could do to us. Will you still see me standing by your side when you have it all? Will my love be enough then? Will it ever? Is it fair that I ask that of you when you've been dreaming towards this for so long? Long before I touched your heart, long before I reached into your soul and pulled you towards me. And now as much as my childlike vision of the world tells me to run away from the evil queen who dares challenge the old ways in order to gain what she believes is hers by right, my heart sings telling me to give you everything, to kill for you and to die for you. And here I stand; puzzled by how it is that I can't seem to love you less even when my mind tells me this should be wrong. That it should feel wrong. Who am I to say you're wrong when the life I've known so far has been so sheltered from its true colors? I'm the wrong one in this; I'm the one going against the current, trying to live in a better world without fighting for it to come true. You're the brave one, fighting for what you believe in, for what we believe in, fighting for us. I shouldn't be fighting you; I should be fighting beside you. So why can't I? As time passes I can feel your confidence beginning to fade, the color in your eyes turning a dull shade of its usual grace. And as minutes turn into hours, the moon graces us with her light once more. How long have we been dancing, my love? How I wish we could turn back time and go back to that first moonlight. You're as beautiful as then, even as the light evades you. Would you go with me? Dare I ask? Or have we gone and spoiled it all with talks of war and of death? Can't we go back to yesterday and live beyond the horizon, amongst the rainbows? Will you hold me tonight as I dream once more of fairytales and happier times? I can sense your presence near me and I feel contempt as I fall asleep beside you.
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As the sun rises in Ferelden, so does Gwen. After a night of tossing and turning, she wakes up with cheeks stained by her own tears. As she takes a glance around the room she finds something she did not expect, someone she did not expect.
"You're still here…" She says bemused, somewhat in awe that after all she'd done the day before, after doubting the most certain thing she ever knew, Anora would still be there to catch her as she fell.
Any fear and doubt that still remained vanish completely as she stares into greenish, gorgeous eyes. How she missed those eyes that for so many nights graced her dreams with their light. As she searches Anora's gaze in search of the love she last saw yesterday, she can see her straightening up, trying to call upon that distant façade Gwen has come to know so well. And as she does, Gwen simply smiles, something warm and loving.
"I really won't miss that." The levity in her words doesn't seem to reach the woman before her, as instead of relaxing and acknowledging the devotion in them she remains poised, uncertainty and fear blemishing her beautiful features.
"Can I ask you something, Anora?" And Gwen glows, close to floating off the ground filled with undiluted love.
"Anything."
"Will you be mine?"
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