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brialavellan · 4 years

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It has been 20 years since Inquisitor ‘Manehn Lavellan defeated Corypheus, and 18 years since the Exalted Council. Solas is furthering his plans and so far, all efforts to stop him seem to be in vain….until the Well of Sorrows begins to speak to ‘Manehn once more. Led by ancient magics and beset by enemies from Ferelden and Orlais to Antiva and Tevinter, ‘Manehn must gather allies old and new in a race against time to defeat Solas - at any cost.

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Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7

CH 8: Dalish Pariah

Since ‘Manehn and Davhalla had stepped into the eluvian on Sundermount, they had wandered aimlessly for what had seemed like eternity, though no time had actually passed.

Time flows differently in the Fade. Time in the permanent world is linear, static, unchanging. The Fade is fluid, always changing. There is no past or future, there is here and not. It is a concept only Dreamer mages like Davhalla, Mirwen and Solas could truly grasp. The link to the Fade was too strong to ignore it, and if Dreamers like them did not learn to know the Fade as intimately as they knew themselves, they would have long been consumed, stolen by a distorted spirit itching for a taste of the static world.

“We’re lost,” Davhalla finally said, her fingers thrumming against her sides as a sign of her twitching nerves.

“Davhalla -”

“Well, what would you call wandering about these Fade-like spaces without direction or without an end in sight?” Davhalla said. “It was foolish. I should not have done something so reckless,” she said, furrowing her brow and sweeping her locs from her broad face.

“Like leaving your position as Keeper?” ‘Manehn unhelpfully added.

“I would not be so flippant to speak of abandonment,” Davhalla said, in a defensive tone. “Many in our clan believe you abandoned us long ago…”

“I have done no such thing!” ‘Manehn snapped, stopping in her tracks, her hand balled into a tight fist that drained the color from her fingers. “Everything I have tried to do was for my people! I do not need to hear -”

“What your people think?” Davhalla said, “How can you win the war if you have not won your peoples’ hearts? Why do you think so many of our people rushed to Fen’harel’s side? His ambitions seem greater and his promises do not seem so empty.”

Davhalla softened her tone and gently clasped ‘Manehn’s shoulder. “I apologize. I did not mean to twist that against you,” she said, sorrowful, “I am stating what is whispered around the campfires and at the gatherings of clans. I know I did not, and neither did you - no matter how others perceive it.”

“I know quite well what people think,” ‘Manehn sighed as anger and pain and regret and bitterness roiled within her. She normally would have been livid with Davhalla. She was with anyone who dared question her dedication, cutting them down with biting remarks while forcefully recounting everything she had done not just for the elves, but for all of Thedas. But the kernels of truth within Davhalla’s words hurt more and, even worse, they frightened her. Years had passed. Decades. Solas had infinite patience and infinite time. ‘Manehn was wearing thin on both. She could no longer rely on past triumphs to silence her present critics.

A sad but tense silence passed between them as ‘Manehn and Davhalla surveyed their surroundings. The air hummed with magic like a singer with a tune on her lips, beckoning them forward down paths of dazzling light and color even though they still had no idea where they had come from or where they were headed. Even now, both of them could not help but marvel at the sight, which felt homey and inviting and filled with as much warmth as sorrow, for both of their hearts panged as they realized this was yet another marvel the elves had lost.

An interruption of shouting and the clink of armor and blades drew them back to reality. Five elves rushed towards them, blades and teeth bared. ‘Manehn and Davhalla had barely readied their weapons when they both felt a sudden searing heat near them.

“Stay next to me!” Davhalla yelled as she threw up a barrier. A wall of flame rushed towards them, immolating the elves, turning their screams of bloodthirsty rage into screams of unbearable pain. As the last ones fell, bodies ash-blackened, a figure strided towards them, carefully maneuvering around the bodies.

She was tall and pale, with angular features, a strong square jaw and a fiendish gleam in her piercing yellow eyes. Long jet back hair cascaded behind a crown of dragon’s horns that gave her a menacing aura. She pointed her staff, adorned with a ram’s head, at both of them.

“You are not lost,” She said in a cool tone. “You are just refusing to be guided.”

‘Manehn put her hand on the hilt of her dagger and Davhalla readied her staff.

“Doesn’t sound like much of a difference,” Davhalla said.

“And I wouldn’t exactly take guidance from a complete stranger,” ‘Manehn added.

Davhalla leaned into ‘Manehn and whispered. “Not a stranger. I know what she is. She is a Witch of the Wilds. I would not trust her.”

“My name is Yavana, young ones, and I expected you,” she said in a smoky voice, with the briefest glance at ‘Manehn’s grip on her dagger, which had grown tighter. “The Well of Sorrows led me to you as you were led to me, to play our part.”

Davhalla was raised on tales of Flemeth’s daughters, as all elves were. Though she knew it to be a childish impulse, she could not help but fear her, if only because she could sense the immense power that Yavana wielded.

“And what is your part, exactly?” ‘Manehn asked with a snarl, pointing her dagger at Yavana's chest.

“The same as yours," Yavana said nonchalantly, as if explaining the simplest concept to the most stubborn child. "To restore what was before. To protect what fools would destroy. To avenge what was lost.”

“I am merely here to aid you, not fight you.” Yavana added, “I have a purpose, as do you. Mythal compels you to fulfill your part, as I fulfill mine. And should you try to end me as others before me….” she flashed a wicked grin, “know you will not succeed. Kings and peasants alike have tried.”

“I don’t know,” ‘Manehn retorted, “Corypheus thought the same of me.” Unlike Davhalla, her fear merely did little more than feed her anger at this interloper.

“A grasping pretender is nothing compared to whom you face now.” Yavana’s eyes narrowed. “You have been given a great gift, to be the Vessel of Mythal, to be her beacon, her champion. Her will works through you.”

She came closer to ‘Manehn and surveyed her, slightly bemused at this brash elf. ‘Manehn glared back at her, her dagger still pointed at Yavana.

“You have not embraced what you were given. Hopefully you will learn after what comes next.”

“And what does come next, witch?” Davhalla said with a condescending sneer.

‘Manehn hesitated for a while, her temper cooling as she evaluated the situation they were in. They were lost. This strange woman was offering...something. And she had just killed a bunch of elves who were ready to antagonize them. She was not a friend, but she was being friendly enough. Still suspicious yet compelled, ‘Manehn sheathed her dagger and turned to Davhalla.

Yavana stared at both of them with an almost bored expression.

“We might as well follow her, unless you want to keep wandering around ‘refusing to be guided’,” she whispered to Davhalla with air quotes and a sarcastic tone. Davhalla lowered her staff and merely sighed, saying “I just hope this doesn’t end with our deaths.”

"You are smarter than you look," Yavana said as she turned her back and began to walk away from them towards a crossroads. She stopped after some distance and called to them. "Do you wish to follow, or would you prefer to stay here forever?"

"You don't want to miss your meeting, after all," she added, as she bade them to follow.

'Manehn and Davhalla studied the strange woman who strolled along the paths in front of them with inhuman ease. All humans, when they entered these in-between spaces, found the footsteps grew leadan and legs weary, struggling to keep up with elven companions. Both were equally curious as to how she even managed to not merely keep up, but outpace them.

Yavana would occasionally glance back with an almost amused expression and 'Manehn's eyes would narrow every time she looked back. If she had learned anything at all from Morrigan, whom she strongly resembled, it was that any alliance, boon, or favor from someone like her was a demon's bargain.

She would not find out until much later how high the price was that she had chosen to pay.

In between her speculations and suspicions of Yavana's intentions, ‘Manehn’s thoughts returned to those she had left behind, thoughts that she had reserved only in her times of greatest distress, the worries that came to her when she feared that her current moments were her final ones. Thoughts of her mother, sister and clan, now a wisp of memory she could almost never recapture. Thoughts of her friends and her daughter, those she loved most, who kept her from succumbing to the darkest corners of the darkest thoughts that came to her in her loneliest moments. She wasn't sure this was her last moment alive, but she also wasn't sure she wasn't making a grave mistake.

Davhalla's thoughts were focused elsewhere, on the strange witch who guided them. She noticed Yavana sauntered forward with an easy confidence but Davhalla sensed a secret within her. Whatever Yavana spoke of, she spoke of not as an agent freely acting within their will, but as a servant humbly obeying the wishes of a great master. 'Manehn had revealed Flemeth's true nature, and the nature of her daughters, these Witches of the Wilds, to her before. If Flemeth was Mythal, then why did she work through human daughters? Davhalla's fear grew with every step forward. This was not the will of Mythal the gentle Mother. What Yavana spoke of was a great vengeance that would shake their foundations. Either way, she thought, Thedas would quake under the power of a Creator. She just couldn't decide if it was Fen'harel's remaking or Mythal's reckoning she should fear more.

The twisting paths Yavana had guided them along stopped at a deactivated, darkened eluvian. With a wave of her hand and a mumble under her breath, the eluvian sprang to life, the silver sheen of the glass surface warping and whirling. Davhalla and 'Manehn almost audibly gasped and shared a weak laughter between them. She had actually guided them out. This wasn't a trap. Yet.

“Go ahead and meet your elf,” Yavana said as she began to walk away. “I will be waiting.”

“Great,” ‘Manehn said sarcastically, meeting her eyes with one last glare as she and Davhalla stepped into the eluvian.

————————

In the Brecilian Forest, as sunlight peeked through the canopy of trees that covered an ancient Tevinter ruin, a small elf with short black hair and large forlorn green eyes dressed in a First’s robes sat in front of an eluvian, muttering to herself with while leafing through a large brown leather book.

The eluvian was a miraculous find, she mused, since the only other one she had found in this forest was nothing but a shattered frame sitting in her hovel in Kirkwall’s alienage. She would never get rid of it. It still had a use, though shattered beyond repair. It was a memorial to Tamlen and Naira. A reminder of mistakes that she, and those she loved, had made. And most importantly, it was motivation to finish what she had started.

When she heard the news that Fen’harel had risen, had revealed himself, and was now walking the mortal world with a promise to remake the world to his whims, she felt not just fear and anger but vindication. She had doubted herself for so long. But protecting the people, all of her people, from the Dread Wolf was what she had been born and groomed to do. Even if she failed, even if she perished, she thought, she would try to do something, no matter how small.

She was too lost in thought, and in her notes, to notice the small hum that began to emanate from the eluvian that stood behind her. Not until the hum grew louder and she felt the blast of magic behind her as two figures tumbled out behind her.

She tossed the book aside, leapt to her feet and grabbed her staff from the ground, pointing it at the two interlopers.

“Tell me who you are,” she said, trying her best to sound intimidating, “how did you - !”,

She lowered her staff and she surveyed their faces, trying and failing to hide her shock. Both of them were marked with vallaslin, the marks of Elgar’nan and June. They were her People. More importantly, she knew them enough to know they were friends.

Well, friend might be a strong word for the Inquisitor, she thought. Maybe she should say ‘ally’ or ‘enemy of Fen’harel’ instead.

“Keeper Davhalla! And the Inquisitor?!” she said, helping them both to their feet, “Anetha ara, Keeper, I thought you were still with your clan.”

“I was,” Davhalla said. “But this fight needs me more than the clan does. And it needs you too, Merrill. Why did you leave Kirkwall so suddenly?”

“I’ve had too much to do here!” Merrill protested, “I’ve gotten myself in far too much trouble chasing history before but -”

Merrill paused and took a deep breath.

“But when I found out about the eluvians and Fen’harel, I had to come back to do something, of course,” she said, twisting her fingers, “Protecting the People from the Dread Wolf is a Keeper’s place. You know that, of course and well, I’m not a Keeper - I would have been terrible at it - but you understand. But I know it wouldn’t hurt for me to try again. At least, I don’t think so. But maybe I could -”

Before either of them could interrupt her, Merrill’s voice trailed off as she walked past them towards the eluvian. She placed her hand against the mirror and closed her eyes, sensing the magic that still lingered.

‘Manehn and Davhalla’s eyes darted towards the collapsed stone walls when they heard a rustle in the vegetation. Both readied their weapons...and relaxed them while a deer bounded across, turned and walked away.

‘Manehn and Davhalla looked at each other with amusement, and Merrill ignored them both, until ‘Manehn heard the whistle of arrows.

“Barrier!” she screamed at Davhalla as she backed towards the eluvian. Davhalla readied her staff and erected a barrier seconds before the volley of arrows came down, bouncing off the erected wall of force magic.

Four elves jumped from the walls and barreled towards them, while another six elves perched on a collapsed pillar high above them readied another volley.

“Dread Wolf take you all!” they heard Merrill shout behind them as a stonefist flew between them and crashed into the pillar, knocking several of the elves to the ground. ‘Manehn unsheathed both her blades and lunged forward as the elves drew near the barrier, whirling fast as she cut into two of them. She turned and barely dodged a heavy hammer’s blow.

“They seem awfully cross!” Merrill yelled at both of them.

“Ya think?!” ‘Manehn yelled back as she lunged forward to parry another blow. Davhalla held steady but muttered a few words. ‘Manehn felt a new, cleansing power surge within her and felt her feet lighten and her blows land faster.

Merrill hurriedly drew a dagger and cut her arm. The small streams of blood began to levitate and surround her within a sinister aura. The rest of the archers and the fighters dropped their weapons and shrieked as their blood began to boil and their limbs twisted under Merrill’s control. They turned bright red and crumpled to the ground, gruesomely bloated and limbs twisted.

Davhalla lowered her barrier and shot Merrill a withering glare. Merrill pretended not to notice, calmly sheathing her blade and avoiding Davhalla’s gaze. ‘Manehn looked at macabre display of men, unsettled yet unwilling to contend against magic that, at this moment at least, had saved their skins.

“I don’t know why I keep getting attacked,” Merrill said, “I don’t think I’ve done much of anything, really. I’ve only helped the elves in the Alienage and then all of a sudden, I’ve got intruders trying to set me on fire and -”

“He thinks you’re a threat and that’s enough for him.” ‘Manehn said, “You must know enough to be dangerous.”

“Well, I guess I do know things. About the eluvians, I mean. I spent 7 years working on restoring one. You don’t learn how to do that without picking up a thing or two,” she said, scratching her head. “I felt the power when it opened, and I can feel the power behind it even with it closed, just like the eluvian I worked on. I’m still stuck on how you open it.”

“A witch said some magic words and it opened. These eluvians need passphrases,” ‘Manehn said as she sheathed her daggers .

“An incantation...” Merrill said, eyes widening. “Just a simple spell! Really, was that all I needed this whole time? Elgar’nan, but how did I not figure that out before! I guess the spirit could have told me but....” her voice trailed off as a profound sadness began to grip her but she shook her head and snapped back to attention. “...if that’s true, then for someone without the gift to open it, you would need an artifact. Some sort of a - a reservoir of magic like -”

“Like a keystone...” ‘Manehn said, pausing briefly as she realized the implications. “That’s how Briala could use the eluvians in the first place!”

Her voice grew excitedly, “And that means mages can unlock the networks independently, like Solas! Couldn’t we simply do that? Have a mage find the center of the network and just...change the code?”

“Not so simple,” Davhalla stopped her. “Remember? It’s a very specific passphrase. And there isn’t just one that unlocks all the eluvians. You would need to acquire a dizzying array of incantations. You only knew the first one because of luck.”

Merrill folded her arms. “If Briala did it the first time but if Solas can override it, then it’s pointless to try changing it back because he would just override it again. You need very powerful magic to tap into that sort of power. But, just how much would you need? Oh! Let me try to find out...”

She rushed past them to grab her book. ‘Manehn and Davhalla, who was still fuming, watched her pace around the eluvian for some time, muttering about misplacing things in between frustrated sighs and self-directed admonishments.

“What are you looking for?” ‘Manehn finally asked.

“This!” Merrill finally said triumphantly, holding up a quill and small earthen jar of ink. “Thank the Creators it didn’t spill over during all that fighting. Just imagine what a mess that would make on such beautiful tiles.”

She sat down near the eluvian,on the stone tile, crossed her legs, and rummaged through the papers within the book. Most pages were barely held in their binding, and some pages were completely loose. She dipped the quill in her ink and began scribbling some calculations and diagrams on an empty sheet, staining her hands and leaving streaks of pooled ink on the page while she muttered to herself some more.

“Well, I don’t have paper on hand to check my math but I know you’d need at least enough lyrium to kill every mage within a 5 mile radius,” Davhalla quipped between gritted teeth.

“You don’t need piles of lyrium at all, actually,” Merrill said without looking up, “there’s more power in blood magic, but... ” she paused sheepishly, “you could bleed yourself dry. That is, if I’m not messing up my calculations, of course. Let me see, did I use the right formula here?”

“Absolutely not!” Davhalla erupted with such fury that her almost-onyx skin turned hot. “Every blood mage eventually perverts magic to suit their whims!” She whirled around to face ‘Manehn, pleading. “You can’t possibly -.”

“Blood magic is just magic, like any other magic,” Merrill calmly replied with the slightest glare, repeating a tired line she had stated countless times to combat a tired misconception. “Everyone who uses it doesn’t turn into a demon, you know.”

“I can’t even believe you, of all elvhen, would succumb to such a thing!” Davhalla said, inching closer to her.

“I didn’t ‘succumb’”, Merrill snapped. “I’m not a child. I chose this path.”

“Enough!” ‘Manehn stood between the both of them with her arm outstretched towards Davhalla, “Right now, I don’t care right now about the morality of it. Let’s find out what we need to do to take back the network and worry about it later. We might be able to find a different way.”

Davhalla pressed her lips together in stony silence.

‘Manehn turned back to Merrill.

“Will you help us?”

“Well,” Merrill paused, tapping her index finger to her chin, “I’ve been doing this alone for so long, I never even thought to ask for help. Well, not from anyone who would know anything about it. Though I guess Fen’harel knew. And the Qunari. And Briala. Actually - ”

Her lips curled into a small smile as she closed her book and rose from the floor.

“I think I can, actually. I don’t know how helpful my assistance would be. But, of course, any assistance at all would be appreciated, right?”

“Yes, it would.” ‘Manehn said while shooting a quick glance at a still smouldering Davhalla, “Thank you.”

“But I don’t think I can join you directly. I just...” Merill paused for a moment, her voice lowered to a whisper, “Did you like her, when you met her? Hawke, I mean?”

“I did.”

“I did too. She had that effect on people.” Merrill said, her vivid green eyes beginning to glisten as she reminisced.

“She was always joking, always wanted to laugh,” she said as a wistful smile spread across her face. “She always wanted to make sure you were laughing too. She really cared. She might have been wrong about the eluvian in the end, but it wasn’t out of maliciousness. She cared about me. About everyone. How they were treated. How she was treating them. She has...she had a good heart.”

She paused for a moment, then looked directly into ‘Manehn’s eyes. ”I hope you don’t forget her.”

“I haven’t,” ‘Manehn said, biting her lip, looking away from Merrill’s intense, almost accusing gaze. “I can’t bring her back, but I can kill the man who was responsible for all of it.”

Merrill paused as she pondered her words, her brow wrinkled and a small frown on her face.

“I’ll accept that,” she finally said, still clutching her book. “I can’t join you, and I’ve been away from my People in Kirkwall too long now. I have to check on them. And help them. But I can share everything I know and everything I’ve found.”

She thrust her book into Davhalla’s hands.

“Dareth shiral for now,” Merrill said with a nod as she left the ruins. “You’ll hear from me again, of course, I’ll find out as much as I can. I have notes - more notes - I can work on and, well, let me stop blathering on.”

“But I do have one other thing to ask of you, Inquistor,” she turned back to look at ‘Manehn, a cold anger in her voice.

“Send Fen’harel to the Void where he belongs.”

‘Manehn nodded as Merrill disappeared out of sight.

“I will.”

#yavana #merrill #oc lavellan #dragon age fanfiction #da fanfic #da fic #fic by brialavellan

6 notes · View notes

buttsonthebeach · 5 years

Note

For the director’s commentary thing: The entire Ch 15 of Reckoning. The juxtaposition during Solas’ lead up to having to go back to the roll of Fen’Harel got me so emotional. The contrast between hating/loving the power and detachment that comes with what much be done. I’d love to know more about what you feel his thought process would be after the events, the temptation of just existing neutrally after unleashing so much hell on these asshats. It’s awesome, please give me more!

AHH yes this is a good one!! Thank you for this ask! Commentary below the cut!

I do have to start with Ellana, because rereading this opening had me laughing:

Ellana was certain that war was mostly paperwork.

Paperwork, and a worry that gnawed its way into her bones. A burrowing insect like the kind that destroyed aravels and trees. Tiny and unstoppable and devastating.

If her time as Inquisitor started to convince her of these things, her time as High Commander of Enasan only solidified it.

(High Commander was a stupid title, and she hated it, but she also understood its political necessity. She outranked all of the field commanders, but while her role was primarily political, she was not royalty. Enasan was a republic. She'd lobbied to be called regent, but was overruled.

"Regent makes it sound like you are waiting for something," Arlanal pointed out. "Like you are waiting to step aside."

I am , Ellana thought.)

But while her time as Inquisitor had at least featured long stretches in the field, where she could loose her frustration and fear through her arrows, this war had been nothing but talk for her. Aside from that initial foray to the mountain pass where the first true battle of the war took place, she had not been in the field for more than an hour or so at a time. And even those forays were spent at a distance from the fighting, watching through a spyglass. And they were blisteringly quick visits. Ellana never thought she would dislike the Crossroads, but she hated how quickly she would go from her office in the capital to some outpost or fortification or battlefield. At least when she was Inquisitor she had the leisure of those long rides, or hikes, just her and her companions, where she could shed as many of the layers of her title as she dared.

Now there was no reprieve.

This whole fic was an exercise in “how far can I push my characters out of their element” in a lot of ways, and I think this is probably one of the clearest moments where you see that for poor Ellana. I also have to say that her internal commentary on the title High Commander is a direct nod to me figuring out what her title would be, since President sounds far too modern, but it still couldn’t be a title associated with royalty. I started with “Commander in Chief” and then worked back to something that sounded more fantastical.

(Also, poor Ellana, trying to wriggle her way out of every title she has ever been given. That’s why I bring it back in the epilogue, and say that the titles Mamae, vhenan, Hahren Ellana, and Mamaela are the only ones she truly accepts)

Once I established the idea of paperwork, of how different this war was from the other wars Ellana fought in, how helpless she feels, I could keep coming back to that idea to build up the sense of tension within her, as I did right before she blows up at Solas:

She’d flung the paper but it was not an arrow. It did not fly straight and true. It did not give her the physical release of her bow. The physical release that had been lost to her for two decades and more. The sense that she could fight. That she could pick up a weapon and do something about the dangers that surrounded good people, people who did not deserve it. That she could protect people.

Now all she had was another stupid title, and paperwork.

Then I had to make sure that she was so tunnel-visioned on all of those issues that she wasn’t paying attention to any of Solas’s more subtle cues that he is also suffering under their personal helplessness. Ellana is usually very attuned to the emotions of other people, and Solas by this point is usually far more open with her, so it was interesting to write those short little exchanges where she comes in, vents, and he only has two or three words for her, and she isn’t thinking straight enough to understand why that is. It was so important to me to show that even a good marriage, even one that has lasted a long time, still has failures in communication.

I’m also following a very typical writer’s trick that I learned in my upper level fiction class in college, which is to do things in threes to get maximum impact, which is why we get three snippets of Ellana venting and frustrated and Solas seemingly unaffected before we hit the scene where she finally loses her temper:

Solas snorted. “Would you be served by my anger?”

She wanted to strangle him.

“At least I would not feel alone in my anger if you seemed to feel - something!”

But as she said the words, she turned, and saw his face, and it was the face of the man she loved. And it was raw with pain and rage.

“I would think that you, of all people, would know not to accuse me of having no feelings just because I am hiding them.” His words had an edge she hadn’t heard in - gods, in years.

She was a fool. A temperamental fool, no better than the squabbling youth who’d been hauled before her Keeper for picking fights with other youths who picked on her for the darkness of her skin.

Ellana’s temper is something we see less and less of as she gets older in the series, and it was also important to me to point out that as she is subjected to this immense pressure and helplessness, she’s going to start resorting to behaviors she used in the past, even as far back as her childhood.

I also did my best to show that Solas is cracking here through how I wrote his dialogue - he ordinarily speaks very smoothly, in long, well-thought out sentences, but here I broke up his thoughts frequently, showing his agitation:

“You hand me papers like the one you handed me tonight,” he did not look at her as he said it, but she winced at his choice of words. As she always was, she was embarrassed by her loss of temper already. “And I see the number of the People we lost, and I think of how many I could have saved with a single spell. I am not all that I once was, but I am not helpless, and yet this war has made me feel only that. And yet none of this is your problem, and so I should bear it, and see this through - but - vhenan - if we lose this war - if we lose our daughter - while I sat by and did nothing -”

He’d turned back to face her as he said the last of those words, and there was no mask at all anymore. There was only her bondmate, as sad and lost and angry as she was. Her frustration with him loosened more. She was not as alone as she thought. Solas did not have the paperwork (the fucking paperwork ) or the responsibilities she did. But he carried the same helplessness. They were together in that. She stepped close to him, and pulled him down, and kissed him hard.

"Let's go," she said when they parted. "And let's stop being helpless."

And at the end of the section we get one more repetition of paperwork as the symbol of everything Ellana hates - I didn’t count, but I think that is also the third one, tying back in to that rule of threes - and oh my god I just realized that I themed this entire chapter around the word helpless as well which ties directly back to The World Turned Upside Down and Ellana’s role as Eliza. Wow. I didn’t even realize I was doing that.

As far as the next scene goes, where we switch to Solas’s POV, I was drawing on two main things - the idea of Solas as a weapon, which it seems like he was to Mythal, and which Ellana is now seeing him as, and the scene from 300 where Gorgo sends Leonidas to Thermopylae with the words “come back with your shield, or on it.” I always loved that scene because you can see the love in their eyes, but neither of them can acknowledge it physically or verbally, because they are political leaders, and because it’s not actually what Leonidas needs in that moment. He needs to be treated like another Spartan.

That’s how we got to this line:

“Come back to me,” she said, her voice quiet but her tone firm as steel. “That’s an order, Dread Wolf.”

And Solas, smart cookie that he is, does not miss what she really means here:

For more than twenty years now he had been the peacemaker, the partner, the father, the scholar. But Ellana had not called him vhenan, or even Solas , as he left. Ashara was not there to call him Papae . No. Ellana had called him Dread Wolf. And that was who he would be today. He would again where the mask of Fen’Harel, He Who Hunts Alone, the Bringer of Nightmares. Because that was what his people needed of him once again.

It felt better than he wanted to admit.

In terms of tension building, we get several more instances of the rule of three here - first with three times that the altar to Mythal has mattered in this series: Flemeth showing up in DA:I, shattering the last of Ellana’s faith in the gods, Solas and Flemeth meeting at the end of DA:I, and then Solas and Ellana meeting there during Body of Knowledge when she has considered leaving him. Then we get another repetition of three with one of my favorite headcanons/pieces of Solas meta, which is that Solas’s life is shaped by three women in this series: Mythal, Ellana, and Ashara.

Then we get three repetitions of the phrase “Go. Hunt. It is time for justice,” with the final repetition catching even Solas off guard, as he says he thinks the last word might actually have been vengeance. That ties into a great piece of meta we’ve heard about Mythal - that while she did once represent justice, she may have been corrupted over the millennia into vengeance.

I relied on all three of those repetitions, each of which is also somehow related to three, to build and then release the tension of Solas finally arriving at Shalasan and unleashing hell. Of course, we’re also relying on several things I’ve set up throughout the fic and even back into the previous fic - like how Solas knows it is not really Mythal within him, just as it is not really Falon’Din within Ashara - but on a sentence level, those were the tools I relied on to make that scene happen.

I also have to shout out my two deliberate Hamilton references here, for fun: “You cannot be everywhere at once, Dread Wolf” and “Why are you telling me this?”. I am a sucker for sneaking them in everywhere :)

Oh man, I missed the second part of what you asked! In terms of his thought process after, I think Ashara is the thing that immediately grounds him and reminds him he can’t give into this side of himself totally. That’s why it was important to me that she is the first person who goes and sees him, that he leans on her just as much as she leans on him in that moment. He can risk the rest of the world seeing him as a monster, but he can’t risk his daughter seeing him that way, so he always has to come back.

Thank you for the ask!!! it was such fun to go back through that chapter.

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diagk · 7 years

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Unexpected.

Chapter 24 –> Before we say goodbye.

AU fanfic featuring Solas/Dread Wolf. After the Trespasser events Solas walks through the eluvian only to find himself thrown into the modern-time England. Year 2016. Yup. That’s it.

First Chapter: Read here or on my AO3 account; Read Chapter 24 on AO3

“Merde, am I doing it wrong again?” I asked frustrated after another attempt to withhold my emotions.

Solas sighed but I saw a pleasant smile dancing on his lips.

“No, this requires a lot of patience and practice and you barely have started. You’re doing well.” He pondered a moment. “Maybe… if you would’ve concentrated on a… less emotional topic you’d find the practice easier?” He suggested.

I hummed. “Ok, let’s try that.”

A tilt of his head to one side and a smirk on his lips. “Ask me questions then.”

Ah, so he agreed to my earlier request. Good. What should I ask him? What I really want to know?

“Keep your emotions close though,” he whispered leaning towards me.

Damn. Ok, I can do this.

“Will you tell Morrigan about Flemeth?”

A flash of surprise crossed his face. So, he did not expect me to ask difficult questions then.

He cleared his throat before answering. “One day… I will.”

“What will you tell her?”

He averted his eyes as if not wanting me to see the guilt and pain. “It would be pointless to deny the past. She would know sooner or later. And I need her as ally, so...” He trailed off still not meeting my gaze.

“You’re afraid of how furious she will be? About her reaction of you killing Flemeth?”

“I did no such thing!” He bristled. “It saved her-in the transition. Since her host was not ready she needed another one.”

“And somehow it coincided with your own needs,” I retorted evenly.

He met my gaze then. His was cold like ice. “And I would do it again.”

A shiver ran down my spine. How easily it was to forget who he really was. About his past and future plans. About his pain and persistent way to meet his goals.

“She was your friend. Your falon.”

“She still is,” he admitted. “I hope.”

“Do you think Morrigan will be a good vessel for her?” The coldness in his eyes melted slightly. “I do hope so. It’s not for me to judge. I just hope she’ll carry Mythal with pride and respect she deserves.”

I pang of jealousy hit me but I focused on keeping it close to me. It was irrational to be jealous of an old friend. They have known each other for thousands of years; they shared a common goal before she was murdered; and they supported each other against all odds.

Solas was looking at me closely as if trying to decipher my reactions. The slight crease on his forehead meant that he could not discern them properly. So, the change to a topic I was not so attached was beneficial to my training. Maybe, I should push my luck and ask another question.

“Will you lose your powers if you transfer Mythal’s spirit to Morrigan?”

He laughed. “Not really. I’ve been regaining my own since I woke up. It has been accelerated since I carried Mythal with me, that’s true, but I have enough of my own to carry out my plans.” He smirked and then leaned towards me again. “And if I had found another orb… well-that would be beneficial as well.”

I opened my mouth to fire another question but got frozen on the spot. Another orb? That-bastard! He knew where another one was… or he had already found one!

Looking at his relaxed form sitting cross-legged on the plush carpet in my living room, smile and mischief dancing on his lips, I realised just how little I really knew about him. I got swayed by my own emotions and desires. By what I could see without looking at him. Dismissing everything there was to know about him right there in front of me. And I thought I was clever. Such a foolish girl. Master of manipulation and a brilliant strategist. That what he was. And is. He does not stop using everything and everyone to reach his own goal. Fight the battles you can win and do nothing that would not further your goals, right?

I groaned frustrated at myself and him. Solas noticed my state of distress as I did not try to hide it and he was at my side instantly. His arms around me.

“What’s wrong, ma lath?”

I turned to him; anger colouring my voice. “You. You play and trick people all the time. You do it subconsciously even without trying. It’s the skill you mastered and use all the time.”

His hands stopped caressing my back and he leant away to meet my gaze.

“You think I have tricked you into this?” His mask dropped and I could see and feel his pain and hurt. “Do you?” He repeated quietly.

“No,” I admitted averting my eyes. “But you cannot blame me for thinking that.”

“No, I cannot. Actually, you know so much of me that sometimes I wonder why you let me live.”

I met his eyes. More blue than this morning. He was serious with that question. Oh well…

“Because… as I said before… I have a penchant for broody, sexy, and dangerous elves?” I smiled timidly.

He shook his head. “Ar lath ma vhenan.”

And then I could feel a warm blanket of energy covering me and spreading through my body. Reaching every inch of it and caressing with tender movements against my skin.

“You’re crafty with magic,” I admitted against the crook of his neck when he pulled me to him. He chuckled.

“Magic has its uses. And you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

We sat there holding each other in a comfortable silence. The time was ticking slowly and I could feel it seeping through my fingers. Tick-tock.

“May I ask another question?” He hummed in response. “What do you think of Cullen?”

He chuckled. “Cullen? Hmm… I find him being an excellent commander and a good person. Why do you ask?”

“Well… I got them together. Daeva and Cullen,” I admitted smugly. “And she married him.” I resolved myself to caress his collarbones as far as his a few-buttons-open shirt allowed me. His hands were at my back.

His chuckling reverbed through his body. “I forget too often how involved you have been in all this.”

“Oh?” I leaned back to look at him. Soft smirk at the corner of his mouth told me he was jesting. “You really shouldn’t, as you have no idea how much I wanted Cullen since his early days as a Templar.”

His eyes turned into slits. Ohhh, jealous. One for me.

Tick-tock.

“Since his early days?” He asked confused. “How?”

I laughed. “I forget that you don’t know that he appeared in Origins.” His eyebrows drew lower in confusion and suspicion. That earned him an eye roll from me. “In the first game of the series of Dragon Age, and yes, there were three of them, Cullen is a young Templar in a Circle of Magi. And,” I raised a finger at him then traced it across his lower lip, “if you play as a female Mage you start at that Circle and he is infatuated with you. So…” I shrugged.

“You played as a female Mage then.” He stated evenly only slightly distracted by my touch.

“Ha!” I snorted still tracing his lips. My eyes followed the slow movements. Yet, he seemed unfazed. “I have played every origin and scenario possible on this one.”

He caught my finger with his teeth. When he met my gaze he released it only to ask, “Every scenario? How many there were?”

“Plenty, mon chèr. You could be human, elf or dwarf. And of different background. I like that one with a City Elf who has her arranged wedding interrupted. And then she meets a charming assassin who wins his way to her heart.” I sighed.

He moved his hands tighter around me. The look of possessiveness was not absent from his gaze. Also, his jaw tighten slightly. I smiled at him innocently. I loved to rile him up. He liked to play his games so… I have every right to play my own.

“An assassin?” He inquired in a whisper.

“The one who took over the Antivan Crows. If… he’s still alive,” I admitted.

He sighed and moved his gaze to one side. Then he chuckled before meeting my gaze again. “Ah, this Crow.”

I beamed. “Oh, so Zevran is still alive! Yes!”

His nostrils flared and his fingers splayed on my back in a more possessive manner. “Yes, he is. For the moment.”

“Jealously does not suit you, Solas,” I admitted looking at him.

“Jealousy, as you find, is a new concept to me, ma lath.”

I leaned closer, only an inch from his slightly parted lips. “You have nothing to worry about, mon Loup. You’re the only broody elf I want.”

He rolled us over so I got under him. “Say it again,” he whispered against my lips. His voice raspy and needy.

I giggled while raking my nails gently against his scalp. “I want only you. I may tease you all way to Ferelden and back but… all I want is you, Solas.”

He groaned and claimed my lips with a searing kiss.

“Ma vhenan, I don’t mind you teasing me as long as I know I’m the one to warm your bed at night,” he moved a stray of hair off my face. “I love you beyond reason or understanding. I need you. As I need to breathe. Don’t forget that.”

I caressed his cheek and his ear to which he half closed his eyes. “I know. And I need you too, Solas.”

He chuckled. His gaze dark and focused. “I want to bind myself to you, Nehn. With all I have.”

I laughed but stopped at his serious expression. “What do you mean?”

He slowly caressed my cheek. “There’s no wedding ceremony between the Elvhen. When we wish to be bound to someone it is usually for life and only requires one’s willingness to do so. It has to be spoken though. And… I wish to bind myself to you, ma vhenan.”

This was not to be taken lightly. I knew that. And yet, as I was laying beneath him, comforted by the warmth of his body and soft caresses of his hand, I failed to realise the meaning behind those words. I should have known better. I should have reacted right then... but I did not. I was content and satisfied and drunk on happiness of simply being with him.

“Why… why would you do this?”

He smiled. His fingers trailing against my right cheek and ear. “Because I love you. If you have not noticed before… I have fallen in love with you from the start. I tried to supress it and deny it. Tried to keep you safe but-“ he sighed, “the Fate does want us to stay together. You know this, my love. Sometimes, I feel like I was pulled here so I could meet you. You’re my solution and more.”

“Solution?” Oh, for sake. Was I only his solution to the war and incoming battles? Wake up, Solas! I yelled in my mind.

“No, maybe I phrased it incorrectly,” he admitted averting his gaze for a moment.” You’re the one I need to help me see other ways. Your insight is more extensive than mine.”

I chuckled. “That’s one way to say that.”

We smiled at each other. Gosh, he was so- I sighed. His blue-grey eyes bore into mine and I could only sink into them. ‘Festis bei umo canaverun’-He’ll be the death of me. If I allowed him to. But it was not such a bad thing according to Fenris, right?

“You're being grim and fatalistic in the hope of getting me into bed, aren't you?” I joked hoping he would get the hint. Or not. Or maybe I was just testing things.

“I am grim and fatalistic. Getting you into bed is just an enjoyable side benefit.”

I melted and rolled my eyes. Which earned a raised eyebrow from him. I laughed. Gosh, how different and the same this was from the game? Oh my. I needed him in my bed. Oh yeah.

“Then maybe we should move into the bedroom. Before we are invaded by John and Daniel tomorrow?” I proposed. His smile was only lesser than a rising sun.

“Yes. That’s a good idea. Especially for what I want to do to you,” he whispered in my ear while leading me upstairs.

I swallowed hard only slightly anticipating the things he wanted to do. With his mouth. Tongue. Fingers. Legs. And magic.

“I know. I just don’t want to.” Maya’s voice got shaky and she looked aside. She was back at the job even with her arm in a sling; resolved to do at least some basic tasks around the house. Which meant confining herself mostly to the kitchen while her older sister was cleaning the rest of the house. I knew that leaving her in charge would be good for the house. John approved as well. I think he secretly enjoyed her stubbornness and bossiness even if he would not admit it. Ever.

“Maya, it’s just I want you to stay here with your family and whoever you feel you need, so the household is kept clean and in decent state. Any issues which may arise you’d need to forward to John who is to take the legal guardianship of the place. And if anything else fails then there’s Daniel,” I pointed at my solicitor who smiled at Maya reassuringly, “whom you can approach with any questions.”

“It’s not the same as having you around, Miss Emily,” she pointed out.

“I know,” I admitted. “But this is the way things are going to be right now. You have every right to exercise the proper behaviour from any visitors from now on, and even ask them to leave the place if you feel they do not behave. I leave you in charge. Your daughter is to have the guest house to herself to use at her own leisure as long as she pursues her education. Also, her expenses and tuition fee is to be paid under the supervision of Mr Stewart.” I nodded towards John who was sitting quietly on a stool.

I decided to have the final meeting and dispose of my assets giving the last minute instructions to the people I cared most. I was leaving the estate and all I had in the capable hands of John with Daniel Stouts acting a solicitor, which he was doing for the last 40 years. Well, at least his company, so I felt my affairs were in good hands. And John was fine with Daniel to act as a legal representative. It looked less like he was to gain anything from the trade. Which he was in truth but knowing his disposition I knew this was the simplest and more rational way to approach to leaving him all my funds. Which he had no idea of. Until an hour ago when I showed him my account. Well, one of them. He sighed and agreed for Daniel to keep his hands on that. Surprisingly, he did not turned away the offer to have his sister’s expenses covered if she ever considered to pursue higher education.

Two hours later and we were still sitting in my kitchen. Daniel was on his way back to London to make sure all the papers were corrected before sent for the final approval. John hunching over the kitchen isle; a tumbler with whiskey in his hand and a sad smile on his lips.

“Damn, I have never thought of losing you that way,” he admitted quietly.

I sighed. “I have never thought of leaving this way either,” I admitted.

Maya was supervising Solas who was kneading the dough for the bread. And she regaled him with another folk story about ghosts visiting the local cemetery once every fortnight. I rolled my eyes while glancing appreciatively at him clothed in blue jeans and tight white t-shirt. It might have something to do with my remembering him without them actually. Well, the memories of last night still lingered on my mind and body. I tried to reign a pleasant shudder at the thought of him- ohh, nope, stop. I inhaled deeply before turning my attention back to John.

He needed a refill. And since he was to stay overnight I did not see a problem to get him drunk and relaxed. His job, whatever exactly it was, did not allow him to get too much of a relaxing time anyway. So here, maybe from time to time, he would. I hoped.

I placed a new tumbler in front of him and started sipping my own. The clink of ice cubes against the glass made John to look at me. “You’re sure about this?”

I sighed. He did deserve the truth. “I am,” I looked straight into his eyes saying that. He closed his for a moment before grabbing his drink and emptying it in one go. Oh well, more whiskey for him then.

“I know I have asked this before but… are you’re certain of him? You know, the things he can do... I’m sure he’s dangerous and such… I really think you may... Maybe you could reconsider?” The hope in his eyes clenched my heart.

“John, as much as I don’t want to leave, it’s-” I sighed, “he won’t leave without me. I have explained that to you. He needs to leave and help his people.”

“God, Joy. They are only fictional people. And he is only-“ he gestured towards Solas trying to articulate the thought which had crossed my mind several times in the past.

Not real. A fictional person. From a video game. And yet, he was there, kneading the dough and talking to my housekeeper. How come?

“I know, John. It took me a while to comprehend it myself. Maybe, if we believe that something or someone is real they become real?” One of the ice cubes in my drink cracked. Tick-tock. Bottoms up it seems. “He’s real as much as I’m real. Take it or don’t. But I believe this.”

John was quiet for a moment. I refilled our glasses.

“Did he have to do anything with Maya’s recovery?”

“Why do you ask?”

He sighed. “Because the doctors were mildly confused of how quickly she recovered. Look, it’s been only two weeks and they took the cast off. It’s not what I would called normal.”

“Oh, well. Maybe a bit. He volunteered though,” I raised a finger to make a point.

“He would do anything for you, Joy. It’s clear to me. Even if he tries his best to hide how much he cares.” A smile appeared on his face. Maybe the first one tonight. Hope, it wasn’t the last one.

He was sitting quietly on the sofa holding a book in his hand and balancing the iPad on his thigh. Clearly engrossed in reading and finding references on the internet. Or, that’s what I have been convinced of for the last half an hour when I joined him in the otherwise quiet library.

“Why Cullen?” His question broke the comfortable silence.

I looked at him. “Why not?” I retorted.

A long sigh. “But why specifically him? You could have chosen anybody else, so why him?”

I snorted. “Are we really going to have this conversation?” It seems that ‘yes’ as his gaze was serious. Alright then.

“Well, I played as a female human from the circle of Magi. It was actually unusual for me as I tend to play as a male warrior or rogue first. But I guess I wanted a change. As far as to choose whom to romance… it was simply a matter of Cullen being sweet and dorky at some point. And… a bit of awkward with his stuttering and shyness. Still - more mature than in Origins,” I admitted thoughtfully.

“But shouldn’t you, as a Mage, be afraid of a Templar?”

“Why? I personally do not have any negative experience with Templars.”

“True. But as you… played as a Mage maybe you should consider her point of view?”

“Solas, I don’t think that at that time I was aware that Daeva is actually real, you know? I played this way for fun. Besides, I was curious on how their relationship would progress.”

He hummed. I waited for several moments before continuing.

“Well, I could not romance you, so my options were limited.” I announced coyly to which he chuckled. “As Deava is into men then I had options of Cullen, Blackwall or Bull.”

He hummed again. “I see. That certainly explains a lot.”

I raised from my chair and went to sit next to him on the sofa. He put the book and iPad on the side table and pulled me into his arms.

“Why didn’t you try to romance me?” He asked after a while.

“Well… because you were not available for humans. I mean for a female human Inquisitor. Only an elf.”

“Ah, so that’s why all the videos I’ve watched are with a Lavellan?”

“Yes. The game makers decided that if you were to romance anyone she’s to be a female elf. That’s it.” I leaned back to look at him. Suddenly I started laughing.

“I admit I fail to understand the reason for your sudden outburst,” he commented on my behaviour. His arms were holding me although I was laughing very hard.

“Because… imagine their faces if they could see us now! You have fallen for a human after all!”

He chuckled as I hid under his chin. “That’s-indeed- well… I suppose none of them could have predicted me meeting you.”

I calmed down after a while. His hand was caressing my back. It was nice, to sit with him, relaxed and happy, talking about normal things and forgetting about the future for a while. Breathing in his unique scent I squeezed him.

“Oh? You’re happy it seems. The vibes you’re sending me are really strong and warm, vhenan.”

“That’s because I am happy. At least for the moment.”

His hold on me got tighter. I could feel his regular breathing reverberated through me and his calmness washing over me. He must also be enjoying the quiet before the storm, as we both knew it was just a question of time.

Time we did not have.

This morning I woke up, limbs entangled with his own, my head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat, and I realised that I knew how to make the mirror work. I have known about it for some time, yet I did not realise that.

But I was scared to tell him. Scared that we were going to lose the last moments of peace and quiet and, as stupid as it sounded, I wanted to keep him here for a while longer. Even if I knew it could not be forever.

As my thoughts got darker, his hands held me tighter. He hummed into my hair which sounded more like a question.

“No, it’s nothing Solas. I’m thinking about all of it... and I’m a bit overwhelmed. But I’ll be fine.” I didn’t know who I was trying to convince, him or me, but I knew that it was not actually working.

“Something is bothering you,” he stated calmly.

“Maybe.” I admitted reluctantly.

He sighed. “Vhenan. I can feel that something is bothering you. Tell me.”

I didn’t want to and yet… I knew I had no choice.

“I know how to activate the mirror,” I whispered.

His whole body went rigid and his hands stopped their movements. He left a ragged breath as if fighting with himself. “How?” He whispered back.

#unexpected fanfic #my writing #writing #solas #emily joy cooper #modern au

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princess-tiffie · 7 years

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In Their Eyes - Ch. 05

Men's hearts hold shadows darker than any tainted creature.

Alistair x Warden Cousland A love story told in the eyes of their companions and those who knew them.

Ch. 05 - Flemeth (The Aftermath)

Black smoke fills the skies of Ostagar that night.

The king is dead. Their battle is lost.

And though the beacon of light continues to shine its signal for Teryn Loghain, the renowned general leads his men away from the bloody battlefield. The anguished cries and pleas from their falling comrades still echoing behind them.

Above the retreating troops is a high dragon, blending among the dark clouds but bearing witness to all that occurred. It makes its way toward the beacon, just as a group of darkspawn break through the doors and ambush the last remaining Wardens.

The hound chases them away from its master and her friend, and the dragon swoops down and plucks the two Wardens from the top of the tower. Neither of them wakes as it carries them toward a familiar hut in the Kocari Wilds.

“And here I was, hoping we would not see them again,” Morrigan drawls, watching as the dragon drops them into the open field nearby. The apostate sighs and brings the female Warden inside the hut, leaving her mother to deal with the idiotic male one.

Nearly a day has passed until one of them wakes.

The boy sits up so suddenly, he practically tears a stitch. “Where is she? Where have you taken her?”

“Careful, boy. If you’re just to bleed to death out here, I should’ve left you in that tower,” Flemeth scolds. “The girl you were with is resting inside. She hasn’t woken up since I rescued you.”

“I – oh. You rescued us?”

“A thank you would be nice, young man.”

He seems grateful when he does, and holding onto a silver-lining of hope, he asks Flemeth if she managed to save anyone else. The witch slowly shakes her head, watching as his face drops. She doesn’t think he is ready to hear the news of what’s happened at Ostagar, but he insists he needs to know.

Since then, the boy’s been devastated over the loss of his Warden-family. Especially a man named Duncan who, from what Flemeth could gather with his weeping, was like a father to him.

Hours passed and his tears has dried. There’s a deep frown of worry on his face when he turns to her. “She hasn’t woken up yet. You didn’t put her under a sleeping spell, did you?”

“Why? Do you want to kiss her and find out?”

The boy looks baffled at the suggestion, and the witch nearly laughs.

As the only two Grey Wardens in Ferelden, they will always be bonded to each other in one way or another: by their duty to defeat the darkspawn and slay the archdemon, from the secrets and obligations their order requires them to keep, or through the shared emotions of loss, friendship, and love.

Hah. Love.

Love is a hindrance; she’s lived many years to know that much. She’s taught her daughter to understand that at a very young age as well. Yet, when the other Warden wakes and steps outside the hut, the boy turns to her with a mix of relief, and worry, and … care.

“You … you’re alive! I thought you were dead,” he breathes, and the tenderness in his tone – as if he thinks he’s in a dream – is most intriguing to the witch nearby.

Flemeth sways the Wardens to make use of the ancient treaties she protected for them, and gifts them the aid of her daughter. While the girl is sensible enough to accept Morrigan to their party, the fool boy looks ready to stand between the two women to protect his Warden if she were in any danger to them. And that certainly puts a minor damp to their plan.

As they part ways, Morrigan wordlessly nods to her mother – a gesture of both goodbye and understanding as she begins to lead the Grey Wardens out of the Kocari Wilds. Flemeth chuckles as she watches them, and while she may predict many things, she can’t help but wonder how it will all play out in the end.

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Thanks for reading! Also published in: Luna | AO3

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#dragon age #alistair x warden #my writing #in their eyes

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mrfancyfoot · 8 years

Text

Some Assembly Required: It Didn’t Come With Instructions So I Googled and Found the Swedish Version, pt.1

Since I’ve been asked to clarify/explain/spoil “the spirit” companion of Bevin more than a couple times now, I figured that I would make a one stop post for this and other stuff since bits are kind of scattered throughout several chapters now and I can’t blame anyone for needing a refresher. I’ll make two sections: one for where we currently are in SAR and one for where I’ve currently developed (i.e. spoilers and in-depth explanations). To explain the spirit will also need me to explain some of Bevin’s powers and a little more background, so that will also be included in both sections, though primarily the latter. Also added are other fun bits. Spoilers are included, as I’ve mentioned, but they will be in the bottom section for if you don’t want to read them.

I’ll try to update this as the story progresses, but if I fall behind, just let me know.

The Spirit so far:

Bevin officially meets the spirit in Chapter 12. She starts off as the soothing presence that Bevin feels after having one of her “nightmare visions” of the torture she went through in the Red Future.

After her talk with Dorian, who is fleetingly concerned about potential spiritual possession after witnessing it in the Red Future, the spirit makes herself known so that Bevin can throw Dorian off of this line of inquiry. A “that must have only happened in the alternate timeline” kind of excuse.

The spirit explains that she is the one responsible for protecting Bevin from the eruption at the Conclave. She saw Bevin pulled through and decided that an outsider was what Thedas really needed. Specifically, she says: “I was but an ever-weakening spirit, watching our worlds for over two thousand years from inside the Fade. I saw you pulled through that very first rift between the worlds. I believed that an outsider was the exact thing this tumultuous land needed, and used what power I had to protect you.”

So, two thousand year-old (at least!) spirit who was able to watch both worlds from some corner of the Fade.

She goes on to mention that she knows nothing of how Nikki came to be involved or anything about the Conclave.

During talks, the spirit frequently uses terms that Bevin knows to be elven.

She specifically calls her “‘Ma da’isenatha” which translates to “my little dragon.”

The spirit refers to Solas as Bevin’s “hahren” or “mentor” frequently.

Bevin’s Powers:

From the very first chapter, we learn that Bevin has weird powers and brand new facial markings.

Powers = foresight

Markings = blood red sideways tear drop shape angled across either cheek near the outer corners of her eyes that she describes as being about as big as her thumb(nail).

In Chapter Three, Solas deduces that Bevin is passively syphoning in mana from the environment somehow. Her storage limitations and general output are still very low, so any sudden increase in intake (such as magic applied directly to her) creates a surge that bounces right back out (which makes her face itch and sneeze).

To a much slighter degree, all Mages recover mana from the Veil this way, and some can learn in intake excess mana from around them as a very temporary, active skill. Solas and Dorian discuss this briefly during their general party banter in the game.

Dorian shares (also in Chapter 12) that the markings on her face are from syphoning magic. It’s an old Art, the effects of which were known to “make one’s palms itchy.” He has never heard of anyone being able to sustain the magic passively before.

“Passively” here meaning “without trying.” The magic automatically draws in mana from the environment around Bevin.

Bevin eventually deduces that she is also taking in what she calls life energy. This is something that everything living has (people, animals, plants, etc).

She thinks this is driving her innate healing ability and has fears that it might leave her with a form of at least temporary immortality based on her knowledge of fictional lore and mythus.

Bevin’s (Awful) Background:

Chapters Four and Five are where most specifics of Bevin’s past begin appearing.

In ch.01, Bevin mentions that she’s from Michigan.

In ch.04, Bevin visits the Fade for the first time.

She starts off in a memory of her childhood that she recognizes as the precursor to a particularly bad event. When Solas joins her dream, she immediately asks how to stop it and he dispels it, drawing her deeper into the Fade.

Soon, they are attacked by Fearlings that have taken on the forms of various church elders and her father. Her magic, fueled by her anger is able to get rid of them but draws the attention of a Rage demon. Solas kills the demon for her, stating that she is not quite to the strength to be able to take on and defeat such a demon.

In ch.05, Bevin and Nikki are prompted into sharing details of their lives prior to being dropped in Thedas.

Bevin tells the group that she had just finished her university studies for Linguistics and Criminology and was working as an intern for the local Coroner (also known as the Office of Medial Examiner). Fairly certain somewhere she mentions that she’s going on to graduate studies.

Following more prodding, Bevin shares that she grew up in a religious cult.

Said cult was made up of fanatics, many of whom were eventually found guilty of murder, namely her parents, due to her efforts.

She grew up homeschooled, so would attempt to sneak out to the forest around her house any chance she got when her dad was gone.

Remained homeschooled up until highschool (when it becomes state mandated that children join a public/private school at least part time - no idea if this actually applies to her state, but it did apply to mine :P).

Here she gains access to the internet and eventually talks to someone who wants to get her out of her situation. Through the help of “kind internet strangers” she is eventually able to escape her family by the opening of a successful murder investigation against them/the cult.

As is made clear from ch.04, memories of her father in particular still haunt her.

General (not entirely so awful) details:

Has a number of “adventurous” piercings and hints of a tattoo on her back

Underwent surgery to remove her uterus following health complications.

To be continued via edits as the story progresses. :]

The Spirit (and everything else) as a whole:

Spoilers galore from here on out for almost everything in SAR (for the past and future). This part will touch on the spirit, Bevin’s powers, Bevin’s background, Solas’ thoughts/actions/inactions, background plotlines, future plotlines, and my own personal headcanon/lore-bending. Basically, I explain all the nuances and shit here. It’s very hodge-podge and I try to keep relevant stuff together if not in chronological order. If I’ve missed anything or you want more for some part, let me know.

Open secret that the spirit possessing Bevin is actually Mythal.

The first time the spirit makes her debut is actually in Chapter 10 during Nikki’s venture into the Red Future. The is the entity that takes over when Bevin is too frail to help with the fight (to note, Mythal is still very weak here).

In this alternate future, Solas is captured along with Leliana when they mount a rescue attempt that ultimately fails. Solas originally leaves the Inquisition following the Herald going missing/presumed dead, but becomes overcome with guilt and agrees to join with the Nightingale once seeing that his plans have little to stand on with the Elder One gaining so much power in the first place. They see getting the others back as an all or nothing effort.

Well, they’re captured. Solas spends the days/nights listening to them torture Bevin and Leliana while he’s very slowly dying of lyrium poisoning. He attempts to entertain and soothe Bevin with stories of the Fade and his past. He doesn’t really bother hiding anything at this point. Future-Leliana is far more concerned about getting Nikki back to the past to defeat the Elder One than she is with sharing Solas’ identity.

Later in present day, when Bevin is getting flashbacks of these days, she hears bits of these stories, but doesn’t have much context for them. She sees them as the bits of sunshine that peak through her nightmares. She’ll start to wonder about certain details later as some will conflict with what she otherwise knows.

When Bevin officially meets her present day, Mythal explains why she saved her. But she’s leaving out a lot of details and not at all telling the whole truth. Let’s break down her lieslines:

“I am the reason that you survived that eruption those months ago.”

Yes, well, she’s also the reason that Bevin was pulled through in the first place. Bevin’s entire involvement is due to Mythal.

“I was but an ever-weakening spirit, watching our worlds for over two thousand years from inside the Fade. I saw you pulled through that very first rift between the worlds. I believed that an outsider was the exact thing this tumultuous land needed, and used what power I had to protect you.”

She’s conveniently skipping over the part where she used Flemeth as a host for a long time. Mythal/Flemeth have been aware of the other universe for a long time. A habit of theirs has been watching select occupants as they live their lives unknowing. Mythal takes a shine to Bevin and her plentiful childhood struggles growing up in a crazy cult of psychopathic murderers. She reminds her of a much younger Fen’Harel. Upon seeing the fleeting opportunity, she decides that Bevin would make a perfect companion for her old friend given her unique insights and experiences.

Bevin is brought through the Breach and confronted by Flemeth, in an exchange that she has been made to fully forget for her own good. Mythal is transferred to Bevin who becomes the new host. In exchange, Mythal states the she will help Flemeth with her desires in the future (namely the events following the Well of Sorrows saga with Morrigan). Mythal ultimately sees this as getting what she wants. Solas succeeding with his plans and being happy is vengeance against the other gods for killing her. Bunch of long con-ers.

She’s not above poking and prodding, but, for the most part, she stays out of Bevin’s relationship with Solas simply so she can prove a point later when Bevin inevitably figures everything out. She made the opportunity but never forced or groomed her into anything.

When asked if she knows anything about Nikki’s involvement: “I am afraid not. Her circumstances are a mystery to me, just as those surrounding the events that took place here.”

This is actually true. She has no fucking idea about Nikki or the Conclave. She merely saw an opportunity and took it.

During talks, Mythal frequently uses terms that Bevin knows to be elven.

She specifically calls her “‘Ma da’isenatha” which translates to “my little dragon.”

Bevin garners the nickname from Mythal’s affinity for dragons and because of the large, ornate dragonfly tattoo across her back.

The spirit refers to Solas as Bevin’s “hahren” or “mentor” frequently.

There’s some lore bit somewhere that I read - absolutely no idea if it’s actually canon or not anymore since I have a horrible habit of not taking note of precisely where I read things (definitely my headcanon, hehe) - that mentioned that student/mentor romantic relationships were almost expected in some elvhen clans/alienages.

Within SAR, I’ve made reference to this through Solas. He uses his mentorship of her to keep her close and help enforce a sort of private authority over her even while she gains influence within the Inquisition and Thedas. He does, ultimately, want to include her in his plans, and that means ensuring that she listens to him above anyone else. He gets a bit underhanded.

Leliana’s doing something similar with taking Bevin under her wing (minus the romantic angle). Solas recognizes this and it creates a sort of rivalry between the two that escalates over time.

Bevin’s Powers:

Okay, you read all the general stuff on her powers above, so this is the nitty-gritty of it.

Solas really doesn’t have a clue about this particular magic beyond how he has used a form of it to intake excess mana from around him in a kind of “one fell swoop” gathering of it. He can sustain himself via the Fade for prolonged amounts of time, but this isn’t quite the same thing.

So he keeps an ear out for any new information regarding it, both in the Fade and out. It irks him to no end that Dorian has more knowledge of this area than he does while still not knowing enough about it.

Bevin’s syphoning magic is knowledge passed from Flemeth and Mythal.

She’s essentially been “branded” with it by them.

It’s involved in most of Bevin’s “peculiar” gifts.

Her vast, perpetual stores of mana from syphoning is part of what is powering her Foresight abilities.

The other part is spiritual energy, as is conveniently provided by Mythal.

This is why Mythal becomes dormant to recover after visions, especially more “involved” ones or after times where there are multiples.

As Bevin’s mana stores are depleted, Mythal grows weaker. As they become larger/stronger, Mythal grows stronger.

Foresight wasn’t actually a purposeful endowment by Mythal or Flemeth but an odd happenstance that came about from combining the powerful magics just right within one particular person (Bevin). To a much lessor extent, spiritual/Fade magic is used in minor divining and fortunes.

Cole, as a spirit, is also able to influence her visions. When he happens upon one, he can help make her “lucid” during them so that she has free range to move.

The life energy that she’s intaking is what is driving her healing ability.

To a more extreme end it is also part of what is changing her into an immortal being.

The other part being her gradual merger with Mythal/spiritual energy.

Her healing still has its limits: she cannot regenerate lost limbs or organs.

Cutting off her head would still probably kill her if it’s not reattached quickly. Smashing her head in would definitely still kill her. If a blade were to be shoved into her heart and twisted a few times, there’s a chance that she’d recover from it as that would still leave it mostly intact. Just removing her heart from her chest would kill her, though.

Her healing will revert her back to the body that she gained the ability with. So her prior scars will remain. She’s not getting her uterus back spontaneously.

So, Bevin is well on her way towards immortality.

A kind of “gift” from Flemeth/Mythal.

Flemeth has used spirit energy to remain effectively immortal for many, many years. Mythal helps deliver the spirit of the old god Urthemiel to her to fulfill their exchange so that Flemeth retains her immortality as well.

Yes, this is my hack for fixing this issue with her being human with Solas. >.>

After she fully merges with Mythal, she’d still be human, but she’d have an Elvhen mana system...thing.

Bevin’s other powers:

She’s primarily Storm natured, with a secondary nature for Fire (thanks to Mythal)

She can’t use Ice magic for shit (not the whole of the Winter School, but this is where most of her struggles lie).

Water’s not fun, either, but not seemingly impossible for her.

She eventually will learn that she can manipulate plants/nature magic.

And thus thinks that the entirety of Circle magic teachings are a load of bullshit.

She’s, like, half right.

Lotta bullshit, but she’s practically using Elvhen magic herself since she hosts Mythal, so she’s also not entirely right.

I am, of course, referring to the bit of game lore that says only Elves can use Nature magic/certain other aspects of Creation magic.

Mythal teaches her to shapeshift.

Beginning with forcing her into the body of a fennec and making her figure out how to turn back.

This first comes up in the Schematics side bit, “A Foxy Look for You.”

Bevin really likes her Barriers.

A lot.

Defensive magic is her A-game.

As a recap:

Mana

Life energy (I’m toying with just calling this “chi”)

Spirit energy

How Other Lore Ties In:

My pet theory for SAR.

Certain people from our world, typically of more creative minds, have been able to see dreams and memories from the Fade while asleep/dreaming.

Popular works of fiction have elements based on things that actually happened in the DA world.

Religions here have influences from events and religions there.

So when Bevin’s noticing an awful lot of similarities in the cultures and histories of the two worlds, it’s not just a coincidence.

Spells and magic theories that she’s read/heard/watched frequently have real world counterparts in the DA world.

And this is why some of her seemingly bizarre magic works.

Bevin’s Really Awful Background

Bevin’s background is based on bits of actual events/cases that I’ve read about/studied and my own experiences with growing up in a highly religious area and finally being able to “escape” it. This will move fairly chronologically through her life.

In ch.01 she mentions that she’s from Michigan, but she means this as in “I was living in Michigan at the time.”

She actually grew up in Louisiana, born Bébhionne Chael Ní Hallmhuráin (which is read “Bevin, daughter of Chael, (female) descendant of Hallmhuráin” in traditional Irish).

Daddy wanted a boy and took out his resentment on Bevin after they were unable to have any more children.

As a clan/cult elder, he dictated her life. She’s forced to participate in his extreme tutelage to follow their religion (which she describes as “quote-unquote Catholic.” Anything viewed as a mistake or slight to his demanded perfectionism of her resulted in mental/physical torture.

Her mother basically enabled him through her passivity, as is what is expected of women in the cult. She did nothing to physically abuse or detain Bevin (beyond neglect), but would inform on her to her husband. So there was some mental abuse, there.

Bevin has a couple friends from the cult that she would sneak off to play with (not all families were as strict as hers).

The first time her father catches her, he shaves her head to humiliate her.

Bevin tells herself from then on that she doesn’t care about her hair, but she still can’t stand to have it short. Once in Thedas, she really only wants it shorter to make it easier to manage.

Past that, though, it was more beatings/locking her in the closet/etc.

Also results in Bevin’s fear of small, dark places/claustrophobia.

Becomes best friends with a female cousin named Delanay, who has epilepsy.

Her clan had essentially overrun a small, isolated bayou town, which lead to her physical struggle to leave it.

Bevin tried numerous times to run away from home, each time spending a number of weeks/months surviving off the land as she tried to work her way further from the town. The first time she ran away to seek local authorities was when she learned that they would only delivery her right back home.

The last try, she’s hunted down by dogs until they’re attacked/scared off by the local, highly territorial pack of red wolves. She proved herself to the pack, gaining a new set of scars across her ribs, but voluntarily goes back home after one is found shot dead and threats are made on the rest of the pack.

She’s given up on life a lot by the time she’s in highschool.

She’s the small, quiet, awkward homeschooled kid that no-one really pays any attention to. This was her first exposure to computers and the internet. She uses the time waiting for her bus departure to explore online and eventually finds people that she talks to.

Someone points her in the direction of a group that helps minors leave abusive households.

She initially reached out to the group and even agrees to meet with an investigative lawyer named Jeremy after months of talking, but got cold feet, stood him up, and quit all contact.

When she was fifteen, she witnessed Delanay die of a seizure during an exorcism ritual performed by her father and other elders/clan members.

Following this, she’s plagued by guilt and reaches out to Jeremy again thinking that if she had followed through in the first place, this could have been avoided.

Through her talks with Jeremy, she learned that there was a case being built against the cult following several suspicious deaths and missing persons. She knew of evidence to support this and agreed to help him out, even though she has the physical evidence (in the form of scars) that could more easily get her removed from the family.

She then learned that her family was planning on marrying her off to a much older man. With this new development, she worried that she would no longer have access to where she knows that evidence is hidden since upon that marriage, she would be moved out of the home.

Bevin sneaks off to the forest in search of a certain plant warned to be avoided for its high degree of toxicity. She doesn’t want to kill the man outright, but knowing of her family’s superstitious nature, she takes advantage of the extreme hallucinogenic nature of datura (also known regionally as ‘devil’s snare’ or ‘moon flowers’).

The man was brought over to see her and she managed to poison him via his frequent drinks of alcohol.

His following extreme behavior that lasted for several days was enough to put off her parents before he managed to drown himself.

Bevin later greatly distrusts alcohol (and other “mind altering substances”) and the general culture of drinking due to this incident. She doesn’t like how easy it is to take advantage of someone under the influence, so will not partake herself.

Bevin used this time while they were distracted to gather the evidence needed and take it to Jeremy. After a time of further investigation, they had all that was needed to turn it over to the proper federal authorities, who ran with the case.

Aside from murder, most of the cult/clan was involved with money laundering among other crimes. The cult was disbanded.

Once free of her clan, Bevin changed her name by anglicizing it and taking on the name of her best friend (Delanay) in order to cut ties with and formally disown the clan name.

She was transferred to a group home in Michigan before being adopted by the man she had come to see as a father figure over the past year. She stayed with him for a quick two years until she was accepted to a university on scholarship and funds brought in from interviews and donations.

With life finally settling down following the initial trial verdicts, Jeremy took on another case through a boy trapped within another cult. This one gets a target painted on him and eventually killed for his efforts.

Bevin very much retreats into herself following his death, and throws herself into her coursework.

Running into a friend named Greyson from the group home finally brought her back out of her shell and she started actual therapy. She began volunteering in projects, including the study and tagging of wolves. This took her back to her roots where a group was looking to relocate her pack of red wolves to a protected reservation.

Throughout these years in uni is when she amasses her collection of piercings and select friends “civilize” her to the modern world.

A friend recommends a tattoo artist who ends up doing her dragonfly back piece.

Which Bevin gets to cover up the physical scars of her childhood.

Also saw a doctor about frequent abdominal pains that often completely incapacitated her. One thing lead to another, and she ended up with a hysterectomy to remove her uterus.

She had already intended for her family line to die with her, and was more than okay with this outcome.

In my headcanon, Solas is perfectly fine with this. He’s not looking to personally revive his people through the fruit of his loins.

I will never write about babies.

Puppies. Everyone gets puppies.

This mostly takes us to the present day.

Other details:

English is not a native language for Bevin (despite growing up in the US, her family spoke Irish almost exclusively), and she forgets words all the time. Sometimes the entire language. She had to learn it for high school and pushed herself really hard in order to make the most of her little online time and to not flunk out of school and be more permanently stuck with her family.

She grew up speaking Irish and Latin at a native level thanks to her clan roots and religious influence.

To a slightly lessor extent, she speaks fluent Bayou French (which is kind of more of a creole language).

She purposefully lost her Irish accent and adopts the General Midwest Dialect.

She occasionally lapses.

Solas and Leliana

As pointed out a bit above, there’s a growing rivalry between the two.

They both take on different mentoring roles for Bevin quite early. While Nichole learns more about the troops and warrior-ing, Leliana takes Bevin under her wing and teaches her more about the scouts/spy network.

Starts off as minor things at first: basic cyphers for messages, handling the ravens, general workings of the network and The Game.

Leliana increasingly sees Bevin almost as a younger version of herself.

Leliana doesn’t fully trust Solas from the beginning but not for the typical reasoning of him being an apostate.

She’s very aware that he doesn’t have a known background, and she’s worked to verify the little he has shared.

When she’s unable to, she becomes suspicious of him.

And worried about Bevin since the others rather lobbed her under his care exclusively.

Her agents’ inability to track him for very long also rings alarm bells.

So she knows that he’s likely more knowledgeable/ skilled than he lets on.

He is constantly under surveillance.

She sends Scout Kalen Highridge, who’s been in charge of watching out for Bevin, along with them when they head out after the lead on the Grey Warden.

He’s been kinda flirty with her before, and takes advantage of her reciprocation (she sees him as fling material) to try and wheedle his way into answers about Solas.

Her being not forthcoming at all really irks him as he’s begun catching actual feelings from their growing “relationship” and internalizes this as a kind of betrayal.

He “doesn’t see what she sees in him.”

He ends up botching his mission by pissing off both Bevin and Solas in such a way that makes it obvious what he’d been trying to do.

Solas specifically warns him away from Bevin for his duplicitous intentions.

Bevin has every intention of confronting Leliana, who she knows put Kalen up to it, but isn’t able to get the woman alone prior to the attack on Haven.

Had the attack on Haven not occurred, Leliana would have lobbied for the removal of Bevin from their shared hut.

Given that, she’s quite pleased that Bevin is given her own quarters at Skyhold.

Not so pleased that Bevin continues to spend quite a bit of time with the elf.

Bevin’s increasing duties take away most of her free time, so Solas begins seeking her out instead.

Leliana is the source of a lot of this work, and she takes the time to pull Bevin aside to have a “heart to heart” about their resident apostate.

Pretty much warns her but also says that she won’t come between them (just make it really difficult).

Also around the time that Bevin realises she has feelings for him, but this reaffirms to her that Solas may have ulterior motives or a sketchy past.

Game Solas vs Concept Art Solas

This is something I’ve been toying with for awhile that I finally decided to make into SAR canon.

They’re the same person. Solas uses a complex glamour spell, rooted to the halla jawbone he keeps on him. Removal of the jawbone wouldn’t result in an immediate change, but a gradual one as the weaving of spells wore off, so temporarily removing it would not be cause for alarm.

He created himself as-is out of the mildest parts of himself. He purposefully tries to make himself look bland to blend in with the first elven populations he comes into contact with upon waking up from uthenera. Older looking, no hair, lighter skinned, slightly softened bone structure.

Keeping it tied to the bone makes it so that he expends the least amount of mana/energy on it and so that it’s harder to detect.

Bevin can tell there’s magic attached to it, but doesn’t really question it, yet.

Bevin (and we) first sees a glimpse of him in Ch.21 when she finds herself in one of Mythal’s memories. He looks different enough that she isn’t struck by any kind of familiarity (and such a thing would not occur to her at this time, anyway).

The Minor Bits and Details:

““Never thought I would meet another sky watcher in these parts,” he heard the Avvar Mage mumble as he stepped to follow after Bevin. Turning, the Mage faced away to the flames, head once more upturned to the sky.”

Found in Chapter 23. Totally headcanon, but Amund is also able to see mana and life energy the way Bevin can. He recognizes the way she “watches the sky” as he does, leading to an offhand comment that Solas picks up, but has no context for, so pays it no mind.

To be continued via edits as the story progresses. :]

#Some Assembly Required #MrFancyfoot #The Details #SAR #dragon age fanfiction

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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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