#divine aequitas ii

[rookfeathers]

we are sorely missing any depictions of the black divine aequitas ii, and after reading this ashur/tarquin fic by @greygerbil i wanted to take a stab at drawing divine robes inspired by their description. so, here we go. is this the first fanart of ashur as the divine? if not i would like to see the other ones :^)

[durararossart]

Most Holy, Divine Aequitas II

[the-northern-continent]

Southern chantry: magic is meant to serve man, and never to rule over him

Imperial chantry: magic is meant to serve man,,, and I am also a man *360 noscopes a Venatori cultist*

[waterdeepthroat]

i have so many thoughts about the viper rn… which should i focus on primarily for my next fic?

[halla-hunts-the-wolf]

The Pariah

Pairing: Dorian Pavus / Ashur

Warnings: Details the event of Halward Pavus' blood magic ritual. Slavery mentioned. Suicide mention. Alcohol use.

Dorian didn't think his life could get any worse after his father tried to change him, but his new life in the countryside brought back old friends, one who teaches him how to love again, and another who sends him racing Southward, on the heels of a would-be God and a mysterious cult.

The room smelt like Jasmine, the warm aroma washed over him like a wave as he pushed open the window of his countryside apartment. He was living off his mother’s pension, who wasn’t kind enough to apologize for her cruelty, but had a smidgen of maternal instinct left to ensure her only son didn’t starve. He was in the thick of that particular blunder: he replayed the memories of being drugged and dragged into an undiscerning building.

His vision had been so hazy that he almost didn’t recognize his father, or the ritual dagger in his hands. He remembers thrashing against the chains, summoning fire to his fingertips, only to become overcome with a wave of nausea as his father dispelled his casting, forcing him to lay prone upon the floor as he used blood magic to breach his mind. To make him crave someone carnally, as a man should a woman. Dorian had thought he was being brave by telling his parents that he could never love Livia Heradanus, his betrothed, and therefore could not marry her. Yet in those moments, as he stared into his father’s eyes and sobbed, he realized he had been terribly stupid.

Prior to those most frightening moments, his parents had him seized from the home of a family friend only to lock Dorian away within their estate. He stayed within a single suite for weeks, pacing the floor and thrashing against the walls, which had been warded to prevent spellcasting. He thought, certainly his parents couldn’t keep him locked within forever. Eventually they would banish him to another backwater Circle in the countryside, where he couldn’t make an ass of himself or their family name. Instead, his world began to fall apart around him, as he was brought to that terrible place and forced to watch as blood warped through the air, bringing with it the incorrigible scent of copper and decay.

He tries to ward his mind against it. He thinks of the boy he’d left behind a few weeks ago, the slave in his family’s estate that always drew his eye, the crush he had kissed that evening in Nevarra, only to be escorted back to their dormitory by Professor Volkarin. Yet, the images warp to memories of Livia against his will. He’s powerless against the draw of her eyes, the color of emerald. He can’t help but sigh as her scent, vanilla and lavender, replace the tang of metal in the air. His heart hammered when he remembered what it’s like to feel her hand gliding against his arm, or her lips against his cheek. Perhaps this wasn’t so terrible, an inner voice spoke from the back of his mind. At least this way, he wouldn’t have to continue going about life, living a lie.

Then something within him snapped, like a roaring inferno, and he lurched to his knees. While his head throbbed and his thoughts came slow, he could still feel the Fade pulsing past him like a current. His father’s blood magic had weakened the veil, and he was so preoccupied with performing the ritual that he didn’t have time to dispel the current of lightning that launched from Dorian’s fingertips and through the air. It was a clumsy shot, but it hit Magister Pavus’ foot. The older man flinched a step, and that was all Dorian needed to rush the door. What came next was a blur of shouting guards, the sensation of his fire burning his hands, and the stench of burning flesh. When Dorian’s mind finally cleared hours later, he was roaming the outskirts of the city, covered in dirt and his father’s blood. He was bone tired, but he kept walking, until the only thing before him was miles of countryside.

That incident had transpired months ago, and Dorian had taken a few odd jobs to keep himself afloat. He shelved books in a library here, tutored young mages there, and nearly every penny was spent in local taverns. He didn’t dare contact old friends or drop his name in polite company, in fear that his parents would find him.

The inevitable happened anyway, Aquina Pavus had contacts in many places, and one day, while sobbing into a bottle of wine, a missive was dropped upon his table by an unmarked stranger. Dorian was too drunk to care about laced envelopes or poisoned ink, so he ripped open the letter with reckless abandon, only to find his mother’s neat handwriting within. He scarcely read her half-hearted explanation- it’s what was best for the family- before coins rolled onto the table. Beautiful, gold, coins. The noise drew the eye of other patrons, and Dorian snatched up his mother’s bribe before he was mugged, or worse.

The money kept coming after that. It was enough to put a meager roof over his head in the backend of a modest Tevene town, full of more hardworking Soporoti than mages of high status, but never enough to let him drown himself in copious amounts of alcohol. He worked for that. More books. More students. More drinking himself into oblivion.

The sex was few and far between, much to his jargon. As he would frequent bars, he would occasionally catch a man looking his way. There was something about that look, something starved, that would have Dorian downing his drink and wandering over to drop a flirt or two. With his prey baited, he never had to wait long for the fellow to follow him to the nearest room. He didn’t bother to learn their names, and they were always gone by morning.

Until a few weeks ago, when he had been walking down the dusty street with an uncorked bottle in his hands. It wasn’t his first drink of the day, but he was rationing the last of his coin to pay for fresh water, enough to soak in a proper bath. He imagined falling asleep in the water, sinking lower, and lower, until he could believe himself at the bottom of the Waking Sea. He imagined what the authorities would find, when his mother would finally inquire for his whereabouts: Scion of House Pavus, floating ass-up in his bathtub. He hadn’t even finished his bottle of brandy.

Unfortunately, he wouldn’t make it to his evening plans, because a familiar voice had him coming to a screeching halt. He nearly fell on his face with the sheer speed of his pivot, searching for the face of an old friend. Aequitas Vesperian was a few years younger than him, but they had studied together in the Circle of Minrathous, and he was as beautiful as Dorian remembered. He admired the other man’s finely cut jaw, his tousle of dark hair, and his eyes the color of a crystal sea. Dorian’s mouth struggled to form a hello, but that mattered little when Aequitas was already marching toward him.

“So the rumors were true.���

Dorian imagined his name being ravaged by the wolves, or rather, the Circle of Magi. “Aequitas-” he managed weakly, aware that his breath must have been rancid, “-what are you doing here?”

“There was talk among our fellow Enchanters,” Aequitas began, his voice so gentle that he must have thought Dorian would break. “About where you disappeared to, and why. Lady Livia called off your engagement, and your father missed a Senate meeting. I feared that something terrible may have happened, and was certain of it when no one knew your whereabouts. Eventually I heard of a mage in the countryside, encouraging his lessers to catch a few coat tails on fire, and I thought: that must be him.”

Dorian’s head swam as the words conjured a memory: he at the age of sixteen, burning the beloved coat of his pyromancy professor, who claimed that his bragging sounded like a bleating goat. Aequitas had been the only one to help him wash the flagstones, even though he wasn’t the one being punished.

“You shouldn’t be here.” Dorian said, “I’m doing just fine on my own, as my many pupils can attest.”

“I’m walking you home.” It wasn’t a question.

“Then we’ll be walking for an eternity, I’m afraid.”

Aequitas had of course meant Dorian’s shabby apartment, which overlooked the main street and was large enough to house a kitchenette, bed, writing desk, and an annoyingly constrictive privy. The wooden bathtub sat in the corner of the main room, ready to be used. To Dorian’s surprise, Aequitas had helped him bathe, no drowning required, put him to bed, and failed to leave since. He had grown comfortable with the company, it was nice having someone to talk to who knew of his old life.

It also made forgetting his sorrows at the bottom of a bottle less appealing, which allowed all of those nauseating memories to come rushing back. When he finally worked up the nerve to tell Aequitas the truth, his friend held him while he sobbed, kissed his brow, and promised that no such thing would happen to him again.

They were different after that.

Aequitas held his hand, slept in his bed, and brought him breakfast before he began his tutoring lesson. It was beautiful for a time, in the dusty countryside where few people would criticize their fleeting glances in public. Yet they were just a couple of Magisters’ sons playing pretend, and their fantasy wasn’t meant to last forever.

In the present, Dorian leaned against his open window, taking in the smell of summer in Tevinter, and trying to ignore the pang of homesickness it sent through him. The thought of home brought thoughts of his father, and the depressing cycle of- how did I get here?- began anew.

“A copper for your thoughts?” Aequitas’ words are a warm breath against his ear. As the other man’s arms envelope Dorian around the waist, a delightful shiver crept down his spine. There were lips at his neck, next, that trailed the line of his pulse by memory.

“I was just thinking, it’s been a very long time since I’ve had my way with you.”

Aequitas laughed, and the deep rumble of it made Dorian’s heart leap in his chest. “It’s been a day, Dorian, and only because you fell asleep while reading.”

Dorian loved the way he said his name. It took a moment for his brain to catch up with the conversation, and to come up with something clever. “And you didn’t do anything about it the moment I awoke? I hope I’m not beginning to bore you, Lord Vesperian.”

“You, a bore? Perish the thought.”

Dorian is whipped around in an instant and brought face-to-face with the man who had single-handedly brought him back from the brink of death like divine intervention. He found himself mentally thanking the Maker as Aequitas’ lips pressed against his. The kiss is soft, sweet, and safe. It’s so practiced that Dorian doesn’t need to think about where his hands go next or where to place his feet as he pushes his lover toward the bed. For a brief moment, that voice in the back of his mind droned about replacing the alcohol with Aequitas, but the guilt didn't go further as they lowered onto the mattress.

A knock at the door stopped them in their tracks. Dorian sat back on his calves, his head tilted to catch the sound of a voice on the other side. He can feel a thrum of magic in the air as Aequitas drew a defensive spell to his fingertips.

A second passed, and there was another, more forceful, knock at the door. It’s followed by a voice calling Dorian’s name, and all at once, he feels as if someone had doused him with a bucket full of icy water.

“Dorian?” Aequitas called for him as he climbed from the bed and crossed the room.

The visitor outside knew his preferences and had never shunned him for it.

It was one of many reasons why they had gotten along, in addition to making an excellent team. The last time Dorian had seen Gereon Alexuis, it was while standing in his study. They had spent the past two years trying to develop time magic. The thought of creating a new type of magic had inspired Dorian so much that he thrived under Alexis’ tutelage. It was an added bonus that he acted as a surrogate father, welcoming Dorian into his home alongside his wife and son, Felix. The latter of which had become one of his closest friends, until an encounter with Darkspawn had killed his mother and left Felix fatally ill.

With his son living on borrowed time, Alexius’ research into time magic turned to obsession. Dorian had tried to help him, but after years of getting nowhere, their relationship began to fracture. Until one day, a few months ago, when Dorian had drunkenly marched into Alexius’ study and demanded that the older man let it go. Let your beloved wife dying go, Alexius! There’s no cure for the Blight, Felix’s fate is set in stone! None of it matters, so why prattle on with a broken trinket that has never worked in the first place?

Alexius sent him packing that night, which is why Dorian had ended up with family friends. Without Alexius’ patronage to protect him, he couldn’t keep putting off his wedding to Livia. The inevitable gave him the courage to march home and declare that he was done pretending that everything was perfectly fine. Then, not long after, he had been dragged away, hidden from the world, and touched by blood magic.

Thankfully, he had escaped before it altered him. Otherwise, Alexius wouldn’t be standing on the threshold of his backwater apartment, looking over Dorian’s rumbled clothes with a critical eye. “Ah,” he said after spotting Aequitas sitting up in bed. “I didn’t realize you had a visitor. I hope you’re well, Vesperian. Your father has been looking for you, last I heard.”

“Alexius,” Aequitas’ voice was steady, unflinching. “I trust he’ll keep looking?”

“No one knows I’m here, not even Felix.”

At that, Dorian took a step back to let Alexius into the apartment. “You look well,” he remarked, although it was politeness at best. Alexius looked as if he hadn’t slept in days, and his robes were oversized, hanging limply from his lithe frame. Dorian’s heart ached to see him in such a state, which is why he fell into an old routine: pulling out one of his dining chairs and offering Alexius a cup of tea.

“They’re called the Venatori,” Alexius was telling him as they sat across from one another. Aequitas listened from the bed, which made Alexius choose his words carefully. “They’re a group of mages dedicated to studying ancient magic and they have a benefactor who believes he can help Felix, so long as I can make the amulet work.”

Dorian cocked his head to the side, an uneasy feeling brewed in the pit of his stomach. “We’ve only managed to slow time in miniscule intervals. It’s the opposite of a haste spell, which is nothing awe-inspiring. What makes you think you can crack it now?”

Alexius’ gaze cuts to Aequitas, but being on the brink of saving his son made him careless. “There is something brewing in the South. About a year ago, a mage blew up the Chantry in Kirkwall. You remember hearing about that, yes? Well it started a revolt, a chain reaction of sorts, and now the mages have started a rebellion. If I understand correctly, their Divine is calling an Imperial Conclave that will end the war between Mages and Templars. Hundreds of powerful people will be there, and my benefactor has it on good authority that an object will be at the Conclave, strong enough to give our amulet the boost it needs.”

Dorian couldn’t ignore the gleam of hope in Alexius’ eyes, but his concern was so loud, his words came out like cannon fire. “You’re being awfully vague about all this, Alexius. What is this object your benefactor has? Will the Southerners not stop you at the gates when they notice a Magister on course for the Divine? Not to mention, we’ve theorized that tampering with time can have countless side effects. All of which, I must remind you, were bad.”

Alexius gripped his cup. The tea sloshed around the rim, but he didn't flinch as the hot liquid doused his fingers. “The Venatori may be my last chance at saving Felix. I came here to ask you to join me, Dorian. I do this because half of our research is rightfully yours, and you should see its success, but also because you’re family. Aside from me, you’re all Felix has left, and he needs your help.”

The words ripped through Dorian like a lightning strike and he worried his bottom lip between his teeth. “What will happen, when your benefactor disrupts the Conclave?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then you can’t go, Alexius. This is madness. I know you only want to save your son, but you should spend what time he has left by his side, not halfway across Thedas, heeding the words of a nameless stranger in the hopes of saving him.”

For a few painstaking moments, Alexius remained seated in silence. His gaze grew hazy, and Dorian worried he might cry into his tea, before he finally spoke: “So you won’t be joining me?”

“No, I won’t.”

Alexius put down his tea, rose from his seat, and crossed the room to the door. “Very well, then. I apologize for interrupting your afternoon. I hope the countryside continues to serve you well, Dorian.”

Alexius is through the door and in the adjoining hall before Dorian called out again, his body was as taut as a coiled spring. “Alexius! I didn’t mean what I said, all those months ago.”

Alexius paused on the other side of the door, his voice a waning whisper. “And I shouldn’t have thrown you onto the streets.”

Dorian stood in the center of his apartment, stunned. It’s only Aequitas’ hand in his that brought him back to the present. “We should tell someone in Minrathous about these… Venatori. I’ve heard whispers of them too, in the city. They sounded more like a cult than a group of aspiring scholars.”

Dorian’s heart fluttered in his chest. Would Alexius really go so far? But then he remembered what his father looked like, standing over him with a bloodied dagger in hand. Yes, he would.

“You should go.” Dorian agreed. “Someone should keep an eye on their influence here, and there’s no one I trust more with that task than you.”

Aequitas furrowed his brow as he stepped into Dorian’s view, forcing them to meet eyes. “You’re not going to come with me? I know your parents are more likely to find you there, but if your mother hasn’t come knocking yet…”

“No,” Dorian cut him off. “You mistake my intentions. I’m going after Alexius.”

“What?”

“I’ve already failed him once before, I can’t do it again. If the man is so consumed by grief that he can’t see he’s making a terrible mistake, then I’ll have to stop him myself.”

“Dorian,” Aequitas’ fingers grazed against his cheek, followed by his cradling palm. “You mean to journey South alone? You’d be a Pariah. Prey left to the wolves.”

“Aren’t I already?” Dorian answered with a wry smile. The look he received has him tilting his head. Another wave of guilt surged through him as he made the selfish call to place a kiss against Aequitas’ palm. If only to feel his lover’s skin beneath his lips one last time. “I have no life here, Aequitas. What we’ve conjured here in this apartment, it’s beautiful, but it was never going to last. For all his rambling, Alexius was right about one thing. I have only one person I consider family left, and he just walked out the door. I can’t leave him to this fate, not without making him see reason first.”

Aequitas considered his reasoning in silence, and Dorian thought he might witness the man’s first violent eruption, but then his lover leaned in to place a sobering kiss against his lips. It’s over too soon. “I still don’t like the idea of you going alone.”

“I won’t be alone, not completely. Felix made peace with his condition years ago, and I’m certain he has no idea what his father is planning. If anything, he’ll be my eyes on the inside, and ensure I make it Southward without being put on a pike or mauled by Mabari.”

It was Aequitas’ turn to offer him an amused smile. “Will I see you again? When all of this is said and done?”

“I suppose we’ll have to see if Mintrathous has enough room for a Pariah, assuming he survives his next adventure. Be a dear, and tell my parents they can mail their letters of discontent to the middle of nowhere.”

Aequitas took a step back, but dropped his hand to intertwine their fingers. “Wherever you end up, Amatus, give them Hell.”

[ofcrowsanddragons]

It rends my heart in two. As designed.

cannot believe that BW said you can EITHER

Romance this man with a demon inside him who is an Antivan assassin AND angsty AND a romantic

Who we basically made as bait for you ppl

OR you can save the Black Divine who is an abolitionist that secretly joined a radical movement for change in the back alleys of Minrathous that is led by one of the fan favorite characters from the last game

you may have ONE

but not both

Hilarious tbh

[the-raven-and-the-tower]

[forallofthedas]

NAME: Ashur Vesperian

NICKNAME(S)/ALIASES: Viper, Divine Aequitas II, Most Holy, The Black Divine

GENDER: Gender-fluid, male leaning

DATE OF BIRTH: Funalis aka All Soul's Day, 9:20 Dragon

PLACE OF BIRTH: Family home in Minrathous

CURRENTLY LIVING: Minrathous, Imperial Grand Cathedral

SPOKEN LANGUAGES: Common (Fluent) - Tevene (Fluent) - Ancient Tevene (Conversational) - Qunlat (Conversational)

EDUCATION: Private education in the imperial chantry

HAIR COLOR: Black

EYE COLOR: Dark Brown

HEIGHT: 6'5

Family Information

BIRTH SIBLINGS: Marcus (Eldest brother), Caes (older brother), Amatia (Eldest sister), Livia (older sister), Camillia (younger sister)

PARENTS: Corimer Titus Vesperian (father) Valeria Vesperian (mother)

CHILDREN: None

PETS: Two cats named Ebris and Vivial

Relationship Information

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Demisexual/Demiromantic

STATUS: Single (verse dependent)

tagged by: @bloodofoldtevinter

Tagging: @chcngenation (for Juniper or Nerys), @lcveblossomed (for Florian), @freewillds (for Jehanne), @mov1ngparts (for any Dragon Age character of your choosing) and whomever hasn't done it yet

[sydneystarlights]

The Viper | Ashur and his ties to the chantry

Wanted to compile a post with all possible references I've found (so far) to Viper being the Black Divine both in game and from other sources (I’m brainroting hard and need to ramble.)

In game connections

Starting with the most obvious connection, the Venatori Message by Bataris found during the quest “The Tempered Soul, Everlasting” to save the captured Viper that states that the venatori have heard rumours that the Vipers true identity is that of the scion of the Vesperians, the fruit of at least 4 bloodlines.

And the Cult Victim you rescue during the “Last Rites” prelude quest says that the Venatori mentioned that killing the Viper at the Temple of Andraste specifically would “suit him” thus starting the quest “The Tempered Soul, Everlasting”

Viper himself is confirmed to be a Highblood mage “Born and bred” during the argument he has with Tarquin and that fits with him being the scion of the Vesperians.

Side note-

The tile of the quest to save Viper “The Tempered Soul, Everlasting” is taken from the Chant of Light: Canticle of Exaltations 1:8 "Whatsoever passes through the fire Is not lost, but made eternal; As air can never be broken nor crushed, The tempered soul is everlasting!"

Which ties into saving Viper from being executed at the Temple of Andraste, but also could tie into his connection with the Chantry itself.

In the Codex entry: Different Flavors of Andraste Harding mentions that the current divine is Aequitas II and the youngest son of Corimer Vesperian as mentioned in the codex Neve’s Case Notes: Maevaris Tilani. Said Case note codex further elaborates on how Aequitas II Vesperian was supportive of Maevaris and Dorian’s Lucerni faction.

In an ambient conversation between Tarquin and Viper, Tarquin directly implies that Viper has at least some power in the Chantry, asking him why he cannot do anything about Knight-Commander Lenos since Lenos answers to the Chantry.

The Vesperians have ties to house Tilani. Maevaris taking the Lucerni underground and the Viper happening to be one of the leaders on par with both her and Dorian is noteworthy.

With Viper having power in the Chantry, the Venatori rumours about him being Aequitas II, him being a highblood like the Divine is, and his closeness with Dorian and Maevaris him being the Black Divine fits.

Datamines

Now, the datamined lines are cut content and not present in the final game, but with all the evidence that is already in the game they're important to note.

Firstly, a direct quote remarking on Viper being the Divine 

(shout out to amirdrassil on twitter for originally posting this script line and starting my downward spiral into the insanity of spending hours going over the script myself and going through frosty editor for the game files)

Second script thing is from a whole conversation between what seems to be Rook, Viper, and Lucanis where Viper is referred to as “Your Holiness”

The conversation is pretty jumbled with how the scripts formatted but it seems like Viper might?? of been Lucanis contact who found out where Zara was for him, since Zara is found in the Treviso Chantry. 

The Third is a reference to his “The Tempered Soul, Everlasting” quest, it's unclear who is speaking the lines but it directly comments on Vipers ties to the Chantry.

[Editing to add another script pic] While these lines from mae to viper are vague, with the codex that mentions that house Tilani has ties to the Vesperians it felt relevant enough to add.

Extras

This section is more or less unrelated conjecture but still some fun things to note.

On page 206 of the art book Docktown is described as "We thought of it like Gotham City from Batman: The Animated Series. A less-grim Sin City with magic instead of guns.”

And on page 208 Viper is described as Minrathous’s equivalent of the Shadow.

The Shadow is one of Batman's main inspirations drawing a clear parallel between docktown and gotham and Viper and Batman. The Vipers secret identity then being of someone of very high importance further fits with the Batman thing he has going on, since Bruce Wayne isn't just a generic normal rich guy he’s on another standing from that. (Also the picture of Viper no mask and with hair looks so similar to depictions of bruce wayne haha)

Bonus things I'm including for fun that have vipers religion influencing things he does: Viper repeating a part of the Chant of Light: Canticle of Trials 1:2 during the memorial for the dead shadow dragons.

And the codex on the pawn shop and how Viper totally chose it partially due to its relevance to Shartan and Andraste, adorable.

[loustica-lucia]

DATV — Aequitas II

The Black Divine/Imperial Divine🙏

(Ashur/The Viper)

Refs & Timelapse below:

Illustration from Dragon Age: World of Thedas Vol.1

[thorinoakenbutt]

I know some people aren't considering the whole "The Viper/Ashur = Divine Aequitas II" canon cause some of it was cut from the game, but I'm considering it canon despite the poor way it was implemented for the sole reason of

"The pope moonlights as Batman" is a very funny sentence

[mt07131]

7, 9, 18 for the mercar ask. sorry i hadnt seen youd reblogged one or i wouldve sent asks sooner. it is okay if you arent vibing these any more! <3

I'm going to be so real I only have the brain power to do one of these otherwise this was going to sit in my inbox for wayyyyyy too long lmao

7. Rook discovering Ashur's real identity

Mercar Writing Prompts

“We need to talk.” Maeve’s voice was low, and oddly serious, in Ashur’s ear. When he looked up from the table scattered with documents, he watched her eyes flick back and forth through the empty Shop. “In private.” She finished. Sure, it was late and they were the only two that hadn’t either turned in for the night or set out onto the streets to expose more of Minrathous’ dirty secrets, but she had to be safe. Certain.

He nodded her towards a more secluded corner of the Shop. The two of them sneaking away was nothing new, but this felt different. Maeve was tense, almost drawn tight like a bowstring. And quiet, something else rare for her. “What’s going on?” He asked.

It was unusual to see Maeve Mercar lost for words. Yet, she had spent all day wondering how she was going to go about this, and how he was going to react. “I was in Hightown yesterday, trailing Velus as planned. He ended up going to the Chantry for a service. Of course, I snuck in, got myself comfortable. Must have been a special day, because the Divine himself was there to give a sermon.” She paused, waiting to see if there was any reaction from him. Annoyingly, he was as stoic as ever, though she supposed there could’ve been more behind that damn mask he was wearing. “Never really was the faithful type you know, but it was a pretty decent sermon. As I listened though, I had the strangest realization. His voice sounded… familiar. Obviously this threw me for a loop, because in what world would I ever cross paths with the Divine?”

“Maeve…” Ashur sighed. She was clever, which made her an excellent Shadow Dragon. It seemed now that said cleverness was being turned on him.

“Do I need to keep going? Or can we just get to the conclusion here?” She finally looked him in the eyes. Looking back, it all made sense. The getup, the alias, the late-night rendezvous always at different inns. “When were you going to—were you ever going to tell me you are Divine Aequitas II?” Even though they were as alone as they could possibly be, she still whispered the name.

Now it was Ashur’s turn to be at a loss for words. Truthfully, he hadn’t planned on it. While being the Viper wasn’t any easier than being the Divine, it was certainly more freeing. Normally, the two lives didn’t cross. Normally. He removed his mask. “It was safer for you not to know. Very few people do, including yourself.”

Maeve scoffed. “Let me guess: Tilani, Pavus, and Tarquin?” She rattled the names off. The four of them were the leaders of the Shadows, or at least had some type of authority, so it only made sense for them to be in the know. When he nodded, Maeve pinched the bridge of her nose. “Months, Ashur. This… thing between us has been going on for months, and you didn’t think to tell me? Feels like it would be something that would come up eventually.” She pointed out. She sighed. Now came the even harder part, the part that really made her a bit nauseous. “We can’t do this anymore. See each other, I mean.” She said.

“Maeve, wait.” His voice was even, and it almost made her more annoyed how calm he was. “Things between us don’t have to change.” He pleaded.

An almost incredulous laugh escaped her. “Things don’t have to—this changes everything.” A deep breath, it was not worth getting worked up over something that shouldn’t have started meaning as much as it did. “The nights together, stolen kisses in the dark, all of that was fun when we were equals, or as equal as we could be. But you are the Divine, Ashur. You are one of the most powerful men in the Imperium, in Thedas.” She stepped closer to him. “Imagine if someone had found out. You and I both make a lot of enemies doing what we do, and this,” She gestured between them. “Is blackmail. So, for both of our sakes, it’s better that we are colleagues and nothing more. All I ask is that you don’t make this harder than it already is.”

It was clear she had made up her mind. If there was one thing that Ashur had learned about Maeve in their time together, it was that once she set her mind on something, she would make it happen. It would be cruel of him to not respect that. “Alright. Colleagues, that can be done.” He agreed.

Maeve nodded, and he swore she looked a little lighter, like this conversation had been weighing her down. “Good, I’m glad we could… figure this out. And besides, our little arrangement was always more fit for a bad serial than it was a romance novel.” Then came that little knowing smile, one that he was too familiar with. “Now, if you want to talk romance novels… you should probably have a little chat with our local Templar.” She wiggled her brows.

In response, Ashur furrowed his. “What are you talking about?”

The roll of Maeve’s eyes was long and dramatic. “Now I know you’re messing with me. You and Tarquin already bicker like you’ve been married for a decade, everyone sees it. Consider this my blessing, not that you needed it. And don’t you dare tell him I said any of this, or I’ll never hear the end of it from him.” There was a friendly little smile at the end of that sentence, but he knew well the teeth behind those words.

She made her way past him, but stopped before she could leave fully. “And just so we’re clear.” She said without turning around. “Your secret is safe with me. I wouldn’t do that to anyone, least of all a friend. Goodnight, Ashur.” And with that, she made her way down into the Shop’s bunks. It needed to be done, and she knew it. All that ruminating and worrying she had done all day had turned out better than she had expected.

[dracaeons]

fenris learns of the viper’s true identity while accidentally foiling a venatori assassination plot. he would already have been against the assassination of divine aequitas ii on account of his public support of the lucerni & denouncement / hatred of slavery but finding out that he’s been actually getting into brawls alongside him in the streets was a bit of a mental adjustment for him (:

[omni-writes-stuff]

Parallels (Lavellan OC Rambles)

I have an Veilguard AU fic I'm in the middle of writing and in the planning process I realised some things about my M!Lavellan and Solas that I thought I might as well share in case this fic goes nowhere. Vulfel Lavellan and Solas are mirrors (or inversions?? role reversals??); even if they differ in personality, they share similar journeys. Vulfel is far from being the Wisdom spirit Solas once was; he aligns more with Justice. More under the cut.

Inquisition:

Lavellan’s purpose was solidified upon being forced into being the Herald of Andraste. Solas’ was twisted when he was forced into a physical form.

As if by fate, Vulfel was always going to be bound by Mythal - his Vallaslin forebodes it.

Vulfel was always learning from Solas during the Inquisition days. Much of the tactics he uses are based on Dalish mythos, and his greatest teacher just so happened to be the Dread Wolf.

Though the Lavellans were always peaceful, Vulfel, First of Keeper Istimaethoriel, was always dissatisfied with the injustices done to the Dalish. It was this quality and his protective nature that earned him Mythal’s mark.

Upon leaving, in a way he becomes First to Solas, ever keen on his blasphemous takes on elven lore. Open minded, Vulfel was willing to consider that perhaps there was a nugget of truth to these claims.

As Lavellan and Solas’ friendship grows, Solas begins to realise too late that Lavellan may repeat his and Mythal’s mistakes. And it was all his doing. Lavellan becomes a reminder of what was done to him.

Despite their shaky beginnings, Vulfel grows to love Cassandra deeply. In spite of their differences and beliefs, both respect and trust each other. This bond they share enriches them and enhances their purposes. She helps him become the Inquisitor and he helps her become Divine. Equal-footed, unlike the dynamic presented by Mythal and Solas.

Justice and Faith are parallels to Benevolence and Wisdom. Both can be twisted into Vengeance and Pride.

Drinking from the Well of Sorrows seals Vulfel’s fate. The foundation was already there. Mythal's will takes root within him.

Vulfel disbands the Inquisition, not wanting it to fall to corruption.

Veilfall:

Mythal loves Thedas. Vulfel loves it just as much and wants to protect everyone. This alignment makes him a wonderful vessel for her will, though he wants the Veil to stay up.  The events of Veilfall just tips him ever closer to becoming Mythal’s full host. He struggles against her and has many plans and countermeasures in case he falls, but will that be enough?

Vulfel uses Solas’ own tactics against him. Rook is even his “Slow Arrow”.

Vulfel witnesses Cassandra get murdered before him during the meeting of the Divines in Minrathous. She is killed protecting Imperial Divine Aequitas II, making her an accidental casualty of power-hungry. Her death results in positive change for the world, but he is forever scarred by it. The same happened between Solas and Mythal, although, in this case Vulfel and Cassandra’s love was never manipulative. 

Vulfel is ultimately pushed into becoming Mythal’s Vengeance against the Evanuris - her plan was always to punish the Evanuris for murdering her, but it came at odds with her love of Thedas, for the Veil must come down in order for her to incite her revenge.

[lairofsentinel]

Tevinter: Political and Religious Structure

Government: Magocracy

Capital: Minrathous

Known Cities: Vyrantium, Ventus/Qarinus, Neromenian, Carastes, Vol Dorma, Marnus Pell, Asariel, Perivantium, Marothius, Solas, Nessum,

Places potentially disputed with Nevarra: Caimen Brea, Trevis.

Religion: Imperial Chantry

Sections:

Magisterium

Imperial Chantry and Hierarchy

Imperial Templar Order and Hierarchy

------------------------------- Lore Warning: A good amount of information presented here is canon, linking their sources when it correspond. The rest is crafted-lore for personal fictional reasons.

For more world-building and crafted-lore: Dragon Age Dreadwolf Tag of DA Crafted Lore

Political Structure: The Magisterium

Tevinter is not a democracy; it is a magocracy. The system features two primary leaders: one with political authority, known as the Archon, and another with religious authority, referred to as the Divine. The Magisterium is composed of several magisters from across the country, each of whom is a mage—primarily Altus, though Laetans can gain access with some degree of effort.

Magisterium

Imperial Senate. It is the legislative body of Tevinter.

Composed of many Magisters that discuss laws for the Country. Unspecified number of members in lore.

The title of Magister is inherited to their heirs or apprentices.

The majority is composed by Altus, although some Laetans can be present. There no Soporati presence in the Magisterium but it used to be ages ago.

Members of the Magisterium:

The Archon

The Divine

Every Grand Cleric of the Imperial Chantry [they all belong to one of the seven Circles of Tevinter]

Magisters chosen among the Seniour Enchanters from the Nation’s seven Circles. First Enchanters are excluded.

Random Magisters picked by the Archon

Archon

He is the supreme ruler of Tevinter by divine right. His authority and personal magical power is believed to be granted by a god. Over time, that god changed: in teh beginning was the Old Gods, later, the Maker.

He can appoint new seats in the Magisterium at any time.

The Archon holds the final word over any law that passes through the Magisterium. However, they rarely do it. Cancelling laws too frequently can put the Archon's life in danger.

His title is inherited: sons, nephews, brothers, cousins or apprentices. The reigning Archon designates his heir to the Magisterium before he dies.

If the Archon dies without an heir, the Magisterium elects a new one. Historically, candidates were chosen from the ranks of the Magisterium, but this practice was banned during the Black Age. Currently, candidates are limited to individuals who do not hold a seat in the Magisterium or a rank in the Chantry.

Historically, a one-third of the Archons have been Laetans. All of them were men.

Religious Structure: Imperial Chantry

Hierarchy:

Divine Grand Cleric Revered Father/Mother Father/Mother Brother/Sister

Every chantry in Tevinter has an Eternal Flame that is kept burning with magic.

Magic is openly performed within the institution.

Religious holidays:

Day of the year where the chantries renew the Eternal Flame

Day of anniversary of Hessarian’s death

Visitation, day that celebrates Andraste appearing in dreams to many mages as she crossed the Fade.

Imperial Chant of Light

Contains several canticles denied by the Orlesian Chantry

Hessarian, founder of the Imperial Chantry, is considered the most important disciple of Andraste.

Andraste has her place in the Imperial Chantry, but it's not as central as in the South. Andraste is considered a mage prophet, and not the bride of the Maker, making her death at the hands of Hessarian less dramatic.

Divine

The Divine is a mage and has a seat in the Magisterium.

He is elected by Grand Clerics, picked among their ranks or among the First Enchanters of Tevinter [There are seven Circles]

His work is not only focused on Divine tasks but also as a Grand Enchanter.

Canon-inspired fanart of Divine Aequitas II.

Grand Clerics

All of them have a seat in the Magisterium.

They all belong to the Circles [hence, they are all high rank mages]

They elect the Divine by majority within their ranks or within the First Enchanters. If it’s tie, the Archon decides.

Priesthood

Men and women are allowed to be part of the priesthood.

They can marry.

Most of their clergy work runs in families, as most professions in Tevinter do.

Soporati only reach the rank of mother/father. Further rank requires the person to be part of one of the Circles [thus, they need to be a mage].

Includes positions such as Revered Father/Mother, Father/Mother, and Brother/Sister.

Religious Structure: Imperial Templar Order

Hierarchy:

Imperial Knight-Divine Imperial Knight-Commander Imperial Knight-Captain Imperial Knight-Lieutenant Imperial Templar Imperial Knight-Corporal Imperial Knight-Templar Imperial Templar-Recruit

The main base of the Templars is in the Argent Spire, Minrathous.

They are under the control of Magisters and the Imperial Circle of Magi.

Imperial templars do not consume lyrium, so they are unable to counter magic as their southern counterparts do. Their training is basically military/city guard related.

Due to the lack of counter-magic abilities, they possess a vast arsenal of weapons, armor, and artifacts that can provide similar effects. However, the use of these items is not permitted on a regular basis; they require temporary permission that can only be obtained through a lengthy bureaucratic process.

Their main role is law enforcement, mixing their members with the city guards. They usually only act against weak mages or those who have fallen out of favor with the magisters.

They keep the Right of Annulment at their disposal.

They don't have "Imperial Seekers of the Truth". Most Tevinters do not see difference between a Seeker and a Templar.

It maintains a close relationship with the city guards, since the most questionable Templars are often demoted to city guards, while well-behaved city guards can be promoted to regular Templars.