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charincharge · 5 years ago

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Cruel Summer, Part 10

cruel summer masterlist

AN: Warnings for the beginnings of angst, drinking and some sexual situations. Your comments keep this thing alive. As always, feel free to message/ask/etc. about anything. I adore hearing from you all. xo

If there’s one thing Rowan has learned in the last few days, it’s that Aelin loves sneaking around. Maybe it’s the intimacy of sharing a secret, or maybe it’s just the way Rowan allows his touch to linger just enough to leave promises of the future – but Aelin’s barely let him out of her sight since she left his bed, greedy for more.

This is how they end up in the break room bathroom during Rowan’s lunch break. They were supposed to just sit together as Rowan ate his lunch, but as Aelin’s eyes darken as they watch his lips wrap around his fork, he knows her restraint is about to break. When a drop of dressing drips onto his finger and his tongue darts out to lick it off, she grabs his hand and drags him into the closest room with a lock.

The bathroom is cramped and dirty, but Aelin doesn’t seem fazed. Rowan chuckles as she kisses her way up his neck. She hops onto the pedestal sink to get better leverage, but the unsteady porcelain rocks slightly beneath her. Rowan grips the sides and stops it from swaying any further, never stopping his soft laughter.

“I’m not having sex in this filthy bathroom,” Rowan snickers, though his hands make their way to her waist, anchoring her against him.

Aelin scrapes her teeth against his jawline and runs her tongue against his stubble. Goosebumps raise on the back of his neck under her hands, and she smirks, satisfied.

“You sure?” she asks, and Rowan groans as he pulls away from her, breathing hard.

“You’re evil, you know that?”

Aelin hops off the sink and sashays toward him, like a predator stalking her prey. He backs up with every step, until his back is pressed against the door. He slides his hands into the back pockets of her jean shorts and exhales, shakily using all his restraint.

“I swear we will finish this later,” he says and leans down to kiss her softly. “I’m coming over tonight,” he reminds her.

“But my parents will be home, so we’ll have a Dorian chaperone until super late,” Aelin whines.

Rowan frowns at the mention of her parents and Dorian – he’d forgotten about that little detail. But he shakes it off and remains resolute. “I’ll make it worth the wait. But I have to eat before my afternoon shift. You know I get hangry.”

Aelin winks saucily. “I’ve got something for you to eat.”

Rowan’s cheeks heat as he pulls her closer. He peers down at her, his green eyes both amused and horrified. “I’ve created a monster.”

“You have no one but yourself to blame,” she says as she rests her chin against his chest. Their heads lean towards each other, that magnetic pull raging, and meet in one last reckless kiss.

“Food,” Rowan breaths.

“Fine,” Aelin agrees with a roll of her eyes. “Wait like five seconds to come out. Just in case.”

Aelin slips out the bathroom door, and Rowan takes a second to breathe and adjust himself. That woman will kill him. He counts to five slowly before exiting the bathroom himself. He slinks back to the table, avoiding looking up at Aelin, who’s now mid-conversation with Elide.

“…do you mind? My phone is at 5%, and I can’t find a charger anywhere.” Aelin plugs her phone into the wall, and Rowan wonders at how easily Aelin can lie on her feet.

“Rowan!” Elide calls out. “You eating lunch?” He nods stiffly. “Mind if I join you?” she asks, and Rowan gestures for her to take a seat.

“So, what’s everyone up to tonight?” Elide asks innocently, because she has no idea the implications of the answers of her question.

“I was actually going to see if you wanted to come over?” Aelin asks, and Rowan trains his face into a neutral stare, wondering what the hell Aelin is doing. It’s bad enough that Rowan is going to have to share Aelin’s time with Dorian tonight. At least Dorian knows about them. With Elide there, they won’t even be able to touch each other. “Dorian’s coming over for a movie night, but who knows what he’ll make me watch,” Aelin continues, oblivious to Rowan’s plight.

Elide is touched and thanks Aelin for the invite, but declines. She already has dinner plans. But the pair of them excitedly pencil each other in for the weekend – for some girl time and catching up. Rowan sits quietly and finishes his salad as the two of them chatter about how much they miss the other, relieved that Aelin somehow knew Elide wouldn’t take her up on her offer.

At the end of his break, Aelin grabs her phone from the wall and bids the pair goodbye, leaving Elide with a hug and a small squeeze to Rowan’s arm. He smiles after her, hoping to spot Aelin around the park in the afternoon. But he never does.

For the first time, Rowan drives up the Ashryver’s long driveway. He’s changed out of his uniform and into a nice pair of jeans and a t-shirt, but he’s nervous nonetheless. There’s something about being in this house that makes his stomach churn. Aelin opens the door before he finishes knocking and flings herself into his arms for a tight hug. He nods hello to Dorian, who watches their interaction with interest.

“Aelin,” a voice calls from the kitchen. “Please come say hi before you disappear for the night.”

Aelin apologizes and leads the boys into the kitchen where her parents are already seated at the table for dinner.

“Mom, Dad, you remember Rowan?”

Rowan smiles politely. “Thanks so much for having me In your home again, Mr. and Mrs.—”

Rhoe cuts Rowan off. “Please. Call us Rhoe and Evalin.”

Rowan scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “I’ll try.”

“Aelin Ashryver Galathinius!” Evalin scolds from the other side of the table as Aelin reaches onto her dad’s plate with her fingers and plops a large piece of potato salad into her mouth.

“Iss mah favorite,” she says around her mouthful, and Rowan can’t help but chuckle.

Evalin’s brow furrows as she chides her daughter. “You know the rule. If you want Emrys’ food, you have eat it at the table with us.”

Aelin looks at her company with questioning eyes. Dorian and Rowan shrug in near unison, letting her decide. Rowan isn’t exactly fond of the idea of having unexpected dinner with her parents, but Aelin seems to want to, and he’ll do whatever she wants.

Aelin slinks into her seat, and the boys follow her lead, Rowan taking the seat next to her. Rhoe grins widely. “Wine?” he asks, holding up a bottle of Sancerre.

Aelin looks around the table. “My favorite meal. My favorite wine.” She looks at her parents. “What do you want?”

Rhoe chuckles as he fills her glass. “Is it not enough to want to spend time with our beautiful daughter and her lovely friends?” he asks, but Aelin’s eyes narrow suspiciously.

“No.”

“Drinks first,” Evalin turns to Rowan as she stands from the table. “Rowan, I know Dorian prefers beer. Can I get you one, or is wine okay?” she asks. “Or we have a full bar if you want something completely different, or sodas or lemonade or sparkling water if you’re not a drinker.”

“Beer is great,” Rowan says.

“IPA? Hef? Stout?” she asks, reaching into a fridge tucked into the base of the large kitchen island.

Rowan is overwhelmed by the choices. He usually grabs Coors Lite from the grocery and is done with it. He’s not a fancy drinker by any means. As if sensing his distress, Aelin reaches out beneath the table and places her hand on his knee and squeezes lightly.

“We know what Dorian wants,” Aelin says with a laugh, diffusing his discomfort. “IPA, like every other former frat boy in the country.”

“Excuse me – it’s delicious,” Dorian says with a wide grin, “And I will not be shamed for being in a fraternity, Ms. Ashryver. Some of us had a four-generation legacy to uphold.”

Rowan relaxes as he tells Evalin he’ll try an IPA, and Rhoe turns to Dorian and questions him about his father, speaking of legacies.

As the conversation continues, Rowan slides his hand under the table and finds Aelin’s hand still on his knee. He lifts it up and laces his fingers with hers, thanking her for helping him. She swipes her thumb along the backside of his hand, a silent you’re welcome.

Dinner is far more painless than Rowan suspected it would be. He participates in the conversation occasionally, but he’s more than happy to let Aelin and Dorian to do most of the heavy lifting. He’s mostly pleased she doesn’t remove her hand from his knee the entire time. After their fourth beer, Evalin sternly tells the boys they should not plan on driving home.

Rowan’s hand stills on Aelin’s. “Dorian, you have your room, and Rowan, you can take Aedion’s old room. And Rowan, please feel free to join us any time. We love having Aelin’s friends over.”

Rowan smiles and nods. “Thank you, Evalin.” She wraps him into a long hug, and though he’s startled, he can’t help but return it.

As they separate, Evalin turns to Dorian, who is ducked down into the island fridge, pulling out a handful of beers.

“If we’re not driving…” he says with a cheeky smile, and Evalin shakes her head at him.

“Aelin,” Rhoe pipes up, and Aelin turns toward her father, who finishes the dregs of his wine glass with a long sip.

Aelin shouts. “I knew it!”

Rowan stares, perplexed, and Rhoe laughs. “Know what?”

“I don’t know, but I know there’s something to know. I knew this meal was suspicious,” she rambles.

Rhoe sighs, exasperated with his daughter, making Rowan smile. At least Aelin exasperates everyone, not just him.

“You know the Cortlands,” Rhoe begins.

“Our neighbors?” Aelin asks. “Yes, Dad. I know the Cortlands.”

Rhoe continues on. “The Cortland’s nephew, Sam, is coming here for a few weeks. He’s just around your age. You probably don’t remember him. He used to come here when he was very little. You two used to make sandcastles together.”

Aelin sighs loudly. “And?”

“And I may have told the Cortlands that you would welcome him into your group of friends. And that you would take him to the park tomorrow.” Aelin looks like she’s going to protest, but Rhoe barrels on. “The young man just lost his father, and you will be nice to him.”

“Fine.” Aelin grumbles as she refills her wine glass. “Is that all?

Evalin rolls her eyes. “Yes. We’re turning in. Don’t stay up too late.”

As the Ashryvers disappear upstairs, Aelin practically drags Rowan down to the lower level of the house and into the home theater. He stumbles down the stairs after her and exhales in awe upon seeing the theater. It’s filled with reclining couches and blankets and a small bar is filled with movie candy. The ceiling is dotted with tiny lights, making it look like a starry night sky.

“Dorian, close your eyes,” Rowan hears Aelin say, and he’s taken by surprise when she pulls Rowan in for a kiss with all her strength. It’s not gentle. Refusing to separate from him, Aelin tugs him down onto the recliner with her, and he lands on top of her, laughing.

“How are you so strong?” he asks, getting situated upright on the couch. Aelin leans into his side and rests her head on his shoulder.

As Dorian picks the movie, Rowan wraps his arm around Aelin’s shoulders, playing with the ends of her hair and running small circles down her arm. She leans further into his side, relaxing sleepily against him. He kisses the top of her head, and she smiles up at him.

“That wasn’t horrible, right?” she asks, eyes wide, and Rowan shakes his head.

“No, it wasn’t.”

Dorian hands out candy and drinks to them as the movie comes on – Twizzlers for Dorian, Milk Duds for Aelin and Sour Patch Kids for Rowan. They watch the crappy action movie, and Rowan has to hide his smile in Aelin’s hair several times as she and Dorian make their boisterous, drunken commentary. But despite how perfectly the night has been going, something in Rowan feels unsettled. He wonders if it’s because Aelin introduced him to her parents as her friend. He wonders how they would feel if they knew what he and their daughter were really up to.

By the time it’s time for bed, Rowan’s thoughts are tangled into a complicated, insecure knot. Aelin whispers that she’ll be right back after wishing him goodnight far too loudly. And Rowan strips down to his boxers and climbs into the soft bed.

He closes his eyes and tries to relax, but his mind won’t stop racing. He feels so far out of his league when it comes to these people with their fancy beers and mile long driveways and home theaters and personal chefs. It’s no wonder Aelin only thinks of him as a convenient, warm body.

“I really like him, Ace.” Rowan hears Dorian’s smooth tenor through the crack in the door. Rowan knows he shouldn’t be listening to their private conversation, but they’re standing right outside his room, and he can’t help but strain his ears to hear the reply, wondering what Aelin has to say about that.

“We’re not turning this into a threeway thing. Get your own fuck buddy,” Aelin replies with a laugh. Rowan’s stomach twists with an uncomfortable pang, feeling every one of his insecurities confirmed with her swift reply.

A heavy pause before Dorian begins again. “I just… I thought tonight was going to be weird,” he admits. “I didn’t know what the dynamic would be, you know? Anyway.” He clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable from talking about his feelings, and Rowan feels slightly guilty for listening. “Feel free to hang out with both of us whenever. It was fun.”

“I appreciate your best friend approval, but like I told you. This isn’t serious. We’re just… hanging out.”

Rowan frowns, bothered by her answer. But unable to articulate why.

“Well, if you could hang out quietly, that room shares a wall with mine and I’d like not to be completely scarred by morning,” Dorian mumbles, and Rowan closes his eyes as he hears the bedroom door open and Aelin slip into the guest room, joining him under the covers.

Aelin runs her hand up his side and kisses his shoulder. Then his chest. And as they go to land on his lips, Rowan stops her.

“Aelin? Do you mind if we…don’t?”

“Oh,” she whispers, surprised.

“I’m just a little more tired than I thought I was,” he says. “Too much beer, I think.”

Aelin rolls onto her back, staring at the ceiling, and the abrupt space between them feels like a giant chasm, and he longs to pull her back into him. She props herself up, staring down at him, and he’s grateful for the dark, because he’s not sure what his face looks like.

Aelin tucks her hair behind her ear. “Should I go back to my room?” she asks softly.

“Only if you want to,” he replies, and he’s relieved when she scooches back down onto the mattress and lays her head on the pillow next to him.

“I don’t want to.”

Aelin inches closer, and Rowan holds his breath as she snakes herself under his arm and rests her head on his chest. “Is this okay?” she whispers, and Rowan’s heart thunders in his chest. He nods as he runs his hand down her back, relishing in the silky feel of her nightgown. The nightgown has somehow ridden up, though, and as Rowan goes to pull it back down, he feels the bare skin of Aelin’s behind under his fingers. He can’t control his hands as they slowly trace over her smooth thighs and run between her legs.

Aelin lifts her head and angles her hips up to give Rowan more room to let his fingers roam.

“I thought you were too tired,” she says, and he can hear the smirk in her gravelly tone.

“That was before I discovered you were in my bed with no panties,” Rowan admits as he rubs his fingers over the apex of her thighs, their physical connection undeniably present.

Aelin breathes heavily, but her hips still as she places a hand against Rowan’s chest. “I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do,” she says seriously.

Rowan’s breath stutters as he leans up and captures Aelin’s lips. “I appreciate that, but right now, I need to be inside you.”

He lifts Aelin up, and she sinks down onto him slowly. As she rocks on top of him, her head thrown back in pleasure and the headboard thumping softly against the wall, Rowan thinks what he wants with Aelin is anything but casual. He’s going to break his own heart. He just knows it.

~*~*~*~*~*~

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#rowaelin #rowaelin fanfic #aelin x rowan #rowan whitethorn #aelin galythinius #tog fanfic #throne of glass #cruel summer au #amusement park au #charincharge writes #angst #it's starting

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ms-katonic-of-tamriel · 4 years ago

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DAI Playthrough idea

Inquisitor Lucien Flavius Trevelyan. Ex-Circle mage, mostly content with life in the Ostwick Circle, likes the learning and academic side, does miss his parents, but no inclination to rebel until it was actually happening, at which point he ran off with the rebels because all his friends were doing it. Not religious, no real belief in Andraste whatsoever but kept quiet about it in the Circle. Since leaving, he’s become a lot more open about his views, and found to his surprise more people than he thought shared them, and there’s enough anger at the Chantry for him to acquire a coterie of fans and fellow freethinkers. He’s at the Conclave hoping to try and talk some sense into the Templars but it doesn’t go well.

Decisions!

Broadly pro-mage, not very pro-Chantry. Not anti exactly, but very much not pro either and really doesn’t like the Herald of Andraste title. Not up to speed on elven issues but the more he learns the angrier he gets at the Chantry, and he does find the culture fascinating.

Goes to Redcliffe to talk to the mages, finds out about the bargain with Tevinter, goes ‘what the actual hell have you done’ and ends up sorting that mess out. Templars can very much sort themselves out in his mind. He wasn’t harmed at the Circle but he saw things happen to others. Gives the mages an alliance. They were his friends after all.

As Inquisitor he wants to stand for order and justice rather than the faith or revenge and does his best to pick merciful, rational choices where possible. After Adamant, he keeps the Wardens as Inquisition allies, and at Val Royeaux, there’s a good chance of him getting all three parties to work together. Failing that, he’ll keep Celene as Empress, with or without Briala at her side. At the Well of Sorrows, Morrigan is getting the power - Lucien hears the words binding geas and goes nope, not for me kthnx.

Romances:

Awkward demisexual who preferred books and studying to anything else, Lucien’s got no romance experience but might consider it for the right person.

Cassandra: too intimidating by far! Also twice his age. Even if he was into intimidating older women, Cassandra has expectations of a romantic hero who will sweep her off her feet. Lucien has no idea where to even start so... doesn’t. Also she will not shut up about the Maker, and Lucien has spent the past two years becoming a fervent atheist and loving not having priests around any more. He can’t pretend to be Andrastian for her sake.

Iron Bull: Bull’s stories about his sexploits make Lucien’s eyes pop out and his hair stand on end. As far as romance goes, Lucien is fleeing in the opposite direction from this one. They get on well enough, and Lucien’s curious about the Qun... but not curious about anything else, thank you very much. Still, he cares enough to save Bull from the Qun.

Dorian: a possibility, and Dorian would definitely be interested, but it’s more likely these two will end up as besties rather than boyfriends. Never say never though. Lucien's really not OK with the way Dorian's family treated him and completely sides with him over it. If Lucien was accidentally flirting with him previously, Dorian might well choose that moment to confess his feelings. Not known how Lucien would respond.

Josephine: most likely out of all of them. Pretty, cultured, goes out of her way to make Lucien feel at ease, Lucien would likely adore her. Also the duel scene would be way more poignant with Lucien the inexperienced mage going rapier to rapier with a master duellist for her affections. Plus they’re both probably demi.

The rest of them:

Cullen: hasn’t got a clue what to make of this somewhat unimpressive young man but he’s who the faithful are rallying around and the only one who can close rifts so he’ll keep him alive. Becomes steadily more impressed with Lucien over the course of things. Lucien talks him out of going back on lyrium, having no wish to see anyone shackled by the Circle if they don’t want to be there, even Templars.

Leliana: scares the hell out of him. “No, don’t murder people!” becomes a common refrain. However, over time, she softens, he starts to see her less scary side, and he’s able to talk her down from murdering Sister Natalie. On seeing the change in her after, he’s got no hesitation supporting her for Divine.

Blackwall: they get on rather well! Lucien respects Blackwall’s experience, always appreciates a big strong fighter to hide behind, and Blackwall’s avuncular nature appeals. Finding out the truth about him is heartbreaking but Lucien can’t help but rescue him and give him another chance to do better.

Solas: Lucien respects his skills, does rely on his advice, but there’s something a bit off there. He doesn’t know what though. He wants to like Solas, but something just rubs him up the wrong way. Still, he’s a useful companion, they do get on, Solas seems to approve of Lucien’s decision-making on the whole, and Lucien loves asking him about ancient elven culture. He's less keen on the whole 'what if the Veil wasn’t here’ angle though. Solas disappearing will feel like a betrayal and really hurt.

Vivienne: nothing in common at all. Excellent chance he never recruits her in the first place. If he does, he spends the entire adventure regretting it.

Varric: takes Lucien under his wing from the outset and looks after him. Lucien’s appalled by some of Varric’s wilder exploits but does laugh anyway, and the two become fast friends. Even if Lucien does keep wanting to know how Bianca works.

Sera: they drive each other up the wall but Lucien is somehow still fond of her. That Tempest stuff is terrifying though.

Cole: weirds Lucien out completely, but he senses the spirit’s heart is in the right place and a spirit who turned human?? Come on, that’s a paper in its own right! Cole’s fate could go either way, but I suspect Lucien will go for the human option.

Lucien's parents: never had any other kids. They still miss and mourn him. They've been worried sick since the rebellion started and Lucien disappeared. He never wrote because there'd been no contact allowed for over a decade and it never occurred to him. But word of their son surviving the Conclave and joining the Inquisition reaches them and they put all family business in their steward's hands and go to Haven. They get there in time to find the ashes, but returning scouts, maybe even the Chargers, can tell them Lucien is not only alive but Inquisitor and take them to Skyhold. Cue tearful reunion, Lyra as quartermaster, Davidicus joining the researchers, either available as a party member if Lucien needs them.

Training specialty: none of the mage ones appeal. Knight-Enchanter? “No I don’t want to be up close and personal with the enemy, I want to be far away from the stabby things!” Rift Mage: “so... the initial innovators of this field are all dead due to the magic destroying them, and the second wave of experts are all off their trolley due to magical weirdness and seeing their friends disintegrated. Er... think I’ll give this one a miss, thank you very much.” Necromancer: “NO!”

In the end, he ends up studying Artificer after persuading his advisors that just because he's a mage doesn’t mean he should only study magic. “There’s so much else to study and learn! It can’t just be learning about magical energies and the Fade! There’s a rest of the world to see and study! Why should being able to do one thing make me incapable of doing anything else?” Cue magically enhanced traps, grenades and possibly some sort of Dwemer laser-enhanced crossbow thing replacing his staff.

Trespasser Lucien is a bit more cynical and battle-hardened and the constant pain from the Mark is no joke either. He’s honestly not surprised at Solas’s identity by the time it comes out, not as much as he should be. Does his best to save the dragon, would like to try and save Solas from himself if possible, but isn’t that committed to the idea. Disbands the Inquisition entirely, thinking it has served its purpose, and then returns to his parental home. He’s reinstated as their son and heir and is soon using Trevelyan money to build himself a whole series of prosthetic arms with a variety of attachments. Just in time for the big society wedding involving the Trevelyan heir and the Montilyet heir whose families saw a couple in love and made the wedding decision for them. Mostly they end up living in Antiva but Lucien’s parents are regular visitors... as are the rest of their former Inquisition colleagues.

#dragon age #lucien flavius #dai #dragon age:inquisition

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hoodwinkd1 · 4 years ago

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the stars that shine Ch 2

Ch 1 here.

Chapter 2: woke up to find that summer gone

Evangeline sat at the dark cherry desk in her bedroom, staring down at the piece of parchment which seemed to be staring right back at her. She had picked up a pen almost half an hour ago and had successfully written one line.

Dear Lys,

“Damn this!” Tossing the pen to the side, she stood and began pacing around the bed. Normally, her letters back to Caraverre were pages and pages of stories, filled with every minute detail and every silly joke that Lysandra and Aedion might enjoy. Tonight, she could barely get her thoughts in order enough to discuss what she’d eaten for dinner two hours ago.

Evangeline knew exactly who to blame for this conundrum. Hollin Havilliard.

Her first two weeks in Rifthold were amazing. Ever the social butterfly and lacking peer friendships back in Terrasen, Evangeline absolutely loved getting to know the other students in her lessons.

“You should come shopping with us next week,” Regina suggested, her smile genuine. As the third eldest daughter of the Callot family, the largest noble support of Adarlan’s fashion industry, Regina would certainly have good taste. “Anya and I are looking for springtime outfits.”

The other girl had jumped in then. “How long will you be staying? My parents always plan a trip to the country house right after the Spring Solstice and I can bring a few friends.”

So yes, Evangeline had no problem making friends. She was downright delightful and ready to try anything, go on any adventure.

Her lessons were equally wonderful. Part of the reason she came to Rifthold was to expand her education, filling in gaps that Darrow had no expertise in, and she enjoyed the challenge immensely.

Point being, she should have plenty to write home about. The shopping trip, the mathematics concept she finally mastered, even the amazing duck stew she tried two nights ago.

Unfortunately, the fond memory of her duck stew faded when she remembered what had immediately followed.

Dear Lys,

I had the most awkward night of my life. I’m relatively confident I’ve made my first enemy and I may never go back to the ballet after this traumatizing experience.

No, she couldn’t possibly send that. Aedion would charge into the palace and demand revenge at the mere thought of anyone disliking Evangeline, if he didn’t laugh himself to death trying to imagine the concept first.

Her popularity aside, she was still in disbelief. Hollin had approached her first, offering to escort her to the royal box at the Rifthold Theater for a travelling dance troupe that evening. Evangeline accepted (delightfully and more than ready for an adventure). She even dug through her closet for the stunning cerulean gown Aelin had gifted for her fourteenth birthday.

And then the prince proceeded to ignore her. All night.

“Who goes two entire hours without speaking one word?” Evangeline grumbled, moving towards her closet to grab a nightgown. The letter could wait until tomorrow. “Why bother inviting me in the first place?”

Whatever. She would be just fine with her new friends, who’s families also owned boxes at the theater.

----

“It’s been two days.” Dorian dropped into the chair next to Hollin. “Two whole days, and I haven’t heard a word from either of you. Quite rude, if you ask me, considering it was my idea to take her to the ballet.”

Hollin kept his eyes on the book in front of him. “Some people think it’s rude to speak in a library. And yet, here we are.”

The king sighed, as if his little brother’s social life was as draining as running a nation. “At least tell me if you enjoyed yourself. Or if you think Eva enjoyed herself.”

“The dancers were talented.” Hollin turned a page. “I can’t speak for someone else’s opinion.”

Dorian huffed. “I meant, did you enjoy spending time with her?”

Hollin shut the book with a bit more force than needed. “Do you have nothing better to do than force me to go on dates with your friends’ wards? I’m working on something here.”

“It wasn’t meant to be a date!” Dorian protested. “Just...Evangeline is so delightful. And friendly. I thought she could, you know, be a friend?” His words trailed off at the end.

He heard the unspoken words. Hollin was not delightful and not friendly. Dorian probably hoped this picture-perfect girl could change him, mold him into a better prince.

“She has friends. And I have work to do.” He looked pointedly at the book strewn across his lap.

Dorian, finally, took the hint. “Fine. Enjoy your suspicious research.” He stood up, fixing his tunic. “I expect to see you at the merchant’s council dinner tomorrow night.”

Hollin waved him off. “See you then.” He’d been searching for some excuse to get out of that event, some way to avoid all the grouchy, greedy men that tried to grab the king’s attention.

Maybe if he fell off a horse, he could avoid politics for a few days.

----

The two months passed quite quickly. Evangeline was expected home in time for Aedion’s birthday celebration, so she took the last day in Rifthold to search for a gift. He might grumble about her spending money on him, letting his annoyance over aging take over his usual good mood, but Eva knew he would secretly cherish something special.

Anya had offered to join her, commandeering her family’s carriage for the trip. The two of them, along with Regina, had become inseparable during Evangeline’s stay.

She had never had friendships that were entirely her own before, outside of her family’s vast and unyielding legacy. Spending the day shopping tasted like freedom and youth.

“Where are we heading first?” Anya asked, shifting her long skirt to make room for Evangeline to sit on the bench next to her. “What does one even buy for the most infamous General in the world?”

So maybe she never could fully escape that legacy. Evangeline chose to ignore the honorific. “Aedion? He can be quite the sentimental type. I was imagining some sort of calendar he could use; one that I’d add drawings and photos and secret notes to. Something useful, but still personalized.”

“Oh, thank the Gods. I was terrified you would drag me to some boring weapons shop.” Anya fanned herself in mock horror. “Minsky’s has the best stationery.”

Once they arrived, Evangeline lost herself in the rows of parchment. She adored the smell of the shop, somewhere between a library and perfumery, thanks to the variety of candles that lined the walls.

She wandered for a while, enjoying the feel of books, journals, scrolls, and other trinkets underneath her fingertips. Anya struck up a conversation with Minsky, the elderly owner who apparently had very strong opinions about what time of day one should light lavender candles.

Evangeline stopped in front of the rack she’d been looking for, eyeing the different color choices. Each calendar looked sturdy and durable, perfect for Aedion’s regular travels, but only a few had carrier cases. She selected the emerald one, to match Lysandra’s eyes.

“Oh that’s lovely!” Anya beamed as Evangeline joined them at the counter. “Very practical.”

Minksy nodded solemnly as they checked the price. “Smart child, finding a way to stay organized.”

“It’s actually a gift,” Evangeline corrected. “Would you have any wrapping supplies?”

They pulled out a few choices of paper, and the girls left the shop with the package securely tucked under Evangeline’s arm.

Anya opened the door of the carriage to let her enter first. “Do we have any other errands - Gods!” Her question was cut off with a curse. “Galen, you scared the life out of me.”

Evangeline found herself face first with Anya’s older brother. He shot her an apologetic look.

“I spotted the carriage and didn’t fancy a walk back to the house,” he explained, musing at his dark locks with one hand. “Any change you two lovely ladies want to go out for lunch?”

“You are unbelievably annoying,” Anya sighed. She moved to sit next to him, glancing at Evangeline. “What do you think? One last meal before you go?”

Galen turned to face her as well. “Leaving so soon?”

Evangeline hadn’t had many interactions with the older boy. Galen had danced with her at one of their parents’ parties, and had teased her a couple times when she joined them for dinner. But all of a sudden, Evangeline found herself wishing for some more time in Rifthold for an entirely new reason.

“I have to return to Caraverre tomorrow,” she informed him. “It’s my....it’s Aedion’s birthday.” Explaining their relationship was difficult enough, and easily avoided since everyone knew exactly who he was.

“Pity,” Galen replied. “But that just means I have to treat you to the best sandwiches Rifthold has to offer before you go.”

Anya groaned. “He always drags us to this tiny little place, when there are plenty of nice restaurants around.”

“A tiny little place sounds perfect,” Evangeline reassured. The carriage jolted forward, carrying them away from the main streets.

An hour later, she wasn’t lying in the slightest when she praised her meal. The sandwiches were really quite good. And the twinkle in Galen’s eyes when she stole one of his chips was even better.

“Oh goodness,” Anya interrupted as they stepped outside into the twilight hour. “I left my pouch at the table. Be right back.” She strode back into the restaurant, leaving Galen and Evangeline alone by the doorway.

Galen leaned against the stone. “Do you have plans to return to Adarlan?”

“Not in the next half-year,” Evangeline admitted. Her thumb rubbed the edge of her pointer finger, a nervous tick despite her calm tone. Was there meaning behind his question? “I’m due to spend two months with one of my mentors in Arran after some time at home.”

“Pity.” He offered her a light smile. She prayed to the former Gods to keep her face from turning pink. “Next time you come around, I’ll have to move faster. Ask you on a date at the beginning of your stay, instead of the end.”

Evangeline couldn’t hold back a wide grin. “Yes, I suppose you will.”

---

Hollin threw himself onto his bed, head spinning a bit from the wine he snuck during dinner. Evangeline was leaving tomorrow, a fact that wouldn’t affect his life much since Dorian had stopped forcing a friendship between them.

Maybe the wine was a mistake. The prince didn’t like alcohol much, knew he was far too young to start drinking, but insomnia had plagued him for weeks now. Hollin tried so many home remedies, from herbal teas to meditation, before attempting to drink himself to sleep that night.

It wasn’t working.

He still couldn’t force his mind to relax. Ideas for new experiments and inventions swirled around, mixed with memories of his most recent failures that stabbed him with self-doubt. Then came the childhood memories, the horror of being raised by the devil without noticing and the shame of past cruelties keeping him far from relaxation.

Hollin groaned into his pillow. He wanted someone to talk to. It was such a simple solution, one that most people would find easy. Dorian had even hired a specialist, a healer who worked with minds as well as bodies, for palace staff who needed help after a traumatizing war. Hollin had paced by their office more times than he could count, never entering.

Somehow, he fell asleep before sunrise. A sharp knock at the door yanked him out of restless dreams.

“Hollin?” He recognized Herina’s voice, one of his personal servants who was years past using formalities. Changing a baby's diaper gave one that privilege. “I have your schedule for the day.”

Hollin stood up, blindly feeling for the robe hanging next to his dresser. “Come in, thank you.”

She pushed the door open, pulling a cart of food behind her. “I didn’t see you eat nearly enough at dinner last night, certainly not enough to be stealing drinks of wine like you did.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but shut it quickly. “I - thank you,” he said again, too tired to form a better sentence.

Herina left the cart by the entrance and walked further into the chamber. “You have a couple lessons scheduled, one before lunch and one in the evening. Light day.”

“Not too terrible.” Hollin took the parchment from her. “Herina..” He trailed off.

“Yes?”

“Could you - do you know how to add things to my schedule?” he asked.

She nodded. “Of course. What grabbed your interest?”

He pushed past his discomfort at the idea. If he didn’t sleep well after, that would be the end of it. “Training. Physical, that is. I’d like to learn how to fight.”

Herina eyed him warily, no doubt taking in the lanky and awkward features that haunted most fourteen year old boys. “You know the king would never expect you to fight. He knows that isn’t where your interests lie.”

“I know.” Gods, he was blushing now. “It’s for myself, just a new hobby.”

Thankfully she moved on. “Well, alright then. Don’t be late today.”

With a final meaningful look at the breakfast, she left. Hollin thought about ignoring the food and falling immediately back to sleep, but his stomach chose that moment to growl loudly. He would need the calories if he planned to actually follow through with his new training idea.

If getting knocked on his ass for two hours a day didn’t help him fall asleep, then nothing would,

#tog #throne of glass #fanfic #sjm #evangeline vuolo #hollin havilliard #dorian #dorian havilliard

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puppy-phum · 4 years ago

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thank you once again @yibobibo for tagging me ♥ even if, like I said, this is pure torture. I have so many sons that I’ve given up on counting them sigh but here goes.

favourite male fictional characters.

I took it that this meant ten so am going with that (tho am not gonna try and put them into order). am also sticking to all the characters I loved this year. and gonna ramble and add gifs so cutting it here.

1. Liu Sang

The Lost Tomb Reboot/Reunion: The Sound of The Providence

I have so much love for this boy it’s not even healthy. it’s a bit funny tho bc once I started tltr, I didn’t really like him and almost forgot about him as the first season ended. he just felt so annoying and bitter in what I saw him, even if I did get that he had a Tragic BackstoryTM (I felt for him but well. tltr really made him hard to like at first). but then they brought him back in the second season with his sad puppy eyes and inability to handle his thoughts on wu xie and being all touch-starved and pitiful and whatnot and baam, I had the adoption papers ready. he’s wonderful and so strong and so smart and amazing. and liu chang as his actor has been wonderful (and he’s so pretty my god, have you seen him??)

2. Shen Wei

Guardian

never did I expect to just. fall into this hole after a year? I remember what a mess I was when I first watched guardian over a year ago, right after finishing the untamed. I was in shambles even as I knew how it would end. and now I’ve done this all again while also reading the novel and. my love for shen wei, especially bc it’s zhu yilong acting as shen wei? astronomical. I want to write poetry about him and his stupid responsibilities that he chooses to carry silently and his devotion to zhao yunlan and his love for his ppl and his didi and. I hope that one day I manage to write weilan bc I have this one idea and you can come pry it from my cold, dead fingers if it doesn’t get out there (am also super happy about the edit I made bc my god does he deserve at least that)

3. Cloud Strife

Final Fantasy VII

ok so stepping into the video games territory now. I was waiting for the remake like crazy and it was everything to me once the quarantine hit during spring. the game is so beautiful and I felt like I looked at this gorgeous boy once and was ready to give him my heart (tbh am quite sure he owned my heart before I even learned to know him). he is tragic in so many ways (I’ve only scratched the surface of all of his pain I know) and I wish I could just. hug him a lot. he is kind and cares very deeply even if he hates to show it and I love it how remake showed him also just being a human disaster (some of his scenes are just. peak comedy). I would kill for his smile (I have already cried for it a dozen)

4. Geralt of Rivia

The Witcher (The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt)

if there’s one grumpy, brickwall of a man I love, it’s geralt. I affectionately call him “papa wolf” while playing witcher 3 and his voice in it does things to me (I am just so fond of him ok, begone you dirty fuckers). I got introduced to him through the books and adored him in them bc he is so prickly and sarcastic and still so full of love even if he will never admit to it. he is the father figure I wish I could have in real life. (and yes, I’ve seen the tv series (or at least a couple of the first episodes) and it looks stunning but. this is my version of geralt and that’s the hill I will die on)

5. Xiaoge

Zhang Qiling, Daomu Biji (The Lost Tomb 2)

(wow finding a gif for him was a pain, apparently I gotta learn how to gif or?) ah, my dear boy who I’ve ended up just calling xiaoge bc he seems to prefer it over his real name/title/whatever zhang qiling really is. I got introduced to him through tltr where we really didn’t get to know that much about him bc he was just... there. huang junjie was absolutely stunning tho and his soft smiles made me super fond, but only in the lost tomb 2 did I really fall in love with xiaoge as a character. I was surprised tbh bc I didn’t expect it to be this drama? I had so many doubts about the cast in tlt2 but they all delivered! and I think cheng yi’s xiaoge is now my favorite bc he somehow captured that softness and the pain of him? (and we do not talk about that buxun storyline tyvm) tho now that ultimate note is on the way, I gotta say that xiao yuliang does a wonderful job as xiaoge too!

6. Wu Xie

Daomu Biji (Ultimate Note)

(sorry we have to go with a pingxie gif now but maybe it’s only fitting) tbh it’s hard to choose my favorite version of wu xie. I think all of the actors for him have done amazing job showing wu xie in different parts of his life (all of them are very distinct but still feel like the same person) but currently zheng shunxi takes the lead. I really wanted to put the reboot version of him here (bc I love that mature, relaxed and somehow very soft version of him and the angst is phenomenal and the thoughts he has about death... yeah) but I already have zhu yilong’s face here once so :’D wu xie is just one of those characters you cannot not like. he is so strong, so kind, so stubborn, so wonderfully stupid sometimes and in need of careful protection. I also adore it how smart he is and I could listen to him spew history facts for 10 hours straight (even if it was in a tomb full of blood zombies) ♥

7. Jiang Cheng

Jiang Wanyin, The Untamed

my darling boy! my beautiful angry grape! I love him beyond words. I love him in all of his raging, misunderstood, stupid, sassy, constipated, abused, tragic, bitter, big hearted glory. I could write novels about him (and I did and am still writing oh boy) and his love for ppl and his inability to show that love and his loneliness and his issues. I could also write another novel for all of his outfits etc. bc damn, what a fashion king. he is just so great. he owns my soul. he deserves happiness and in this essay I will

8. Isana Yashiro

Adolf K. Weismann, K Project

I rewatched k project this spring bc a) it’s one of my favorite animes ever (it just looks stunning with all the colors) and b) I love yashiro to bits. I remember falling in love with him when I first watched k project many years ago bc he was just so kind and bright. this time though, I ended up seeing another side of him and my god did I cry. he is... so sweet. he cares for others so deeply and is ready to sacrifice so much for them and his love for his two clansmen... yeah. I think I finally saw the tragedy of him too, all the pain and loneliness and insecurity he decides to hide behind his smile and obnoxious personality. he reminded me a lot of myself and watching him made my heart bleed in a good way

9. Qi Tiezui

Ba Ye, The Mystic Nine

(wow am going to riot for the lack of all the gifs hhh) yes, we’re continuing with the dmbj universe that sucked me in big time this year. the drama of the mystic nine wasn’t probably that earth shattering for me as it somehow got boring more than once but I did love ba ye to bits. he was just... so nice? I got it that he was somehow this “comedic relief” in the drama with all of his funny scenes and ridiculous mannerisms but I could see the brilliance of him. he is warm and smart and kind of a romantic too and he cares for all of his friends so deeply? it was also sweet how protective of him his two zhangs were (does that run in the family? the tendency to imprint into one smart but disastrous man and keep him safe? maybe) and I really hope I knew more about him bc he seemed to have a lot of knowledge and a lot of impact to ppl’s lives (I yelled when they mentioned him in ultimate note, I miss him ;;)

10. Dorian Pavus

Dragon Age Inquisition

(yes I’ve been replaying DA:I this year, this counts!) another darling boy! my lovely sass master son! I have so much love for him and his story in DA:I. he is my favorite companion (and his romance is my favorite too, probably obvious in the way am currently romancing him for the third time) and he has given me a lot of strength. the way he stands up against his father, how he’s ready to reform his homeland instead of walking away, how he’s so caring for those he sees struggling... it’s very warming and I feel like I’m safe with him. it feels a bit silly to say that but he really is that comfort character I will seek out when I just want to know am doing fine :’) (and I am so excited to see him again in DA4! probably?)

+ 11. Li Cu

Tomb of the Sea

yes I cheated a bit (with my own rules lol) to fit li cu here. I didn’t really expect to like him or tomb of the sea as much as I did once I started it? I’ve seen leo wu elsewhere before this (battle through the heavens, nirvana in fire) and his face always makes me think about a sad puppy so maybe I just grew fond over li cu instantly bc he was... so hurt? the first episode really slaps you in the face with all of it, showing him being abused, wounded, kidnapped, tortured, used and then just very, very scared and broken. he continues being that throughout the whole drama and I feel like tomb of the sea (or sand sea or sha hai idk) is the darkest and angstiest story in the dmbj universe. I know it deserves to be bc this is a dark time for wu xie but... my darling li cu. I wish him only happiness ;; he was so strong and smart and wonderful in this and it was just so amazing to watch him grow and find his own place in the world just bc he did something himself (even when he got dragged into all of this bc of wu xie) also I support the wu xie adopts li cu -agenda

Honorary mentions:

Zhang Rishan, Xie Yuchen and Hei Xiazi from DMBJ universe. The Twin Jades of Gusu and Ouyang Zizhen from The Untamed. The Iron Bull and Fenris from Dragon Age games. Thane Krios, Kaidan Alenko and Jaal from Mass Effect games. The whole lot of Assassin’s Creed protagonists (especially Ezio Auditore and Shay Cormac). Adam Parrish and Ronan Lynch from The Raven Cycle. Neil Josten from All For The Game. Eduon and March from The Smoke Thieves. Qiling from L.O.R.D. Critical World. Luo Fei from Detective L (played by Bai Yu).

well, with this I can really see that I have a thing for those who are tragic :’D I have a thing for grumpy, prickly and antisocial guys or those who hide their pain behind a smile. maybe it’s bc I am somehow both, even if I can’t show my anger or be mean to others and even if I feel like my smile never sticks either. I just find kinship in all of the characters who are on this list. and I feel like I aspire to be as strong and as kind and as loving despite all the pain I’ve been put through.

thank you, this was so much fun! and sorry I made this so long and so complicated ^^’ but well, there are just way too many male characters I love haha

at the end I want to tag @i-am-just-a-kiddo @ashenwren @kholran @tiesanjiao @lan-xichens @aheartfullofjolllly @manhasetardis and @lzswy ♥ feel free to do this in your own way or not at all! and thank you if you managed to read through my rambling :’D

#tag game #wow this was something #i've been waiting for one #bc there is so much love in me #and this year i've discovered so many #new characters to just gush over #about me #random #edit: added a few characters #and tagged some more ppl sorry #also mobile tumblr wouldnt let me edit so lol

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fancytrinkets · 3 years ago

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Sitting in Judgment Is the Worst

In the context of Trevelyan/Dorian, Trevelyan fantasizes about domestic life after the Inquisition

It’s supposed to be a solemn and regal affair, but to Trevelyan’s eyes it’s all a ridiculous spectacle. The proceedings practically scream ‘petty bandit warlord playing at grandeur.’ In keeping with that awful theme, he always chooses to wear the most flamboyant outfit in his wardrobe — his dress armor, a glittering display of authority and, supposedly, righteousness. Or, as Iron Bull calls it, his ‘pretty gold dress of sending assholes to gaol.’

Today is no exception. It’s early afternoon when Trevelyan dons his armor and heads downstairs. But he’s early — the main hall is still dark and mostly empty. So he leans against the wall and takes a slip of paper from his pocket to look it over one last time. Four items are written in Josephine’s elegant penmanship: death, Grey Wardens, Tranquility, prison. These are the suitable punishments his advisors have chosen in advance for Livius Erimond. Trevelyan’s role in the outcome feels minimal. He’s simply the dart they throw at their list of possibilities to see what sticks.

This could all be done privately — a solemn administrative hearing conducted in closed chambers. There, the accused could speak up for themself without all the glamor to get in the way. But that’s not how it’s done. And of his three advisors, Leliana was the one who explained it to him with the greatest candor.

“We have a handsome Inquisitor. It wins us favor every time we show him off.”

So yes, the entire point of having him judge people in a public hearing is to give the visiting dignitaries a pretty show. And they are so eager to watch. The nobles tend to cluster together, whispering amongst themselves and daring to hope for an execution. Trevelyan always refuses to satisfy them. Fuck you, he thinks, go kill someone yourself if you lust for death so much. And no matter how many times his advisors add the Rite of Tranquility to the list for use on a mage enemy, that’s not going to happen here either. Wielding the Rite as a punishment feels cruel on purpose — and Trevelyan’s pretty sure that’s the worst sort of cruelty.

He’s not paying attention as the guards and his advisors file into the room, followed by the guests of the Inquisition. He’s still standing against the side wall, glittering fabulously in his armor while staring at the dais with his eyes unfocused, his thoughts drifting.

He’s really not fond of that throne.

Oh, yes, he chose it himself in consultation with Leliana, Cassandra, and Vivienne, all of whom approved of the Andrastian theme. It’s opulent and somber — a serene, sculptural portrait of Andraste being burned alive in stylized golden flames. That part’s rather grisly, but he has to admit he does like the chair, which sits at the base. It’s elegant in its simplicity — two slabs of heavy stone, hewn in straight simple lines.

Topple the statue, remove the gold, toss some brightly colored pillows and blankets on it, and that chair would look friendly and inviting. He could keep it around for the rest of his life if he wanted, after stealing it from Skyhold and installing it elsewhere in a parlor or sitting room. Guests could lounge on it as if it were ordinary — and so it would be! Without Andraste and the flames, they’d never know it had once been the symbol of everything Trevelyan was required to do for the Inquisition, but not remotely qualified for.

He smiles to himself at the thought of breaking the throne and then stealing it. If he were ever to go through with it, he could place some sort of lush, green potted plant in the cavity where the statue once was. If he were feeling truly ambitious, he could track down a plant native to the region where the stone was quarried. What a satisfying detail! Most guests would be bored and annoyed to hear about it, no doubt — so he wouldn’t tell them. He’d be content just knowing it himself. Dorian would have to hear about it, of course, because it would be an item in their shared living room. And if he didn’t like how it looked, then they’d have a gentle but serious conversation about the value of aesthetic compromise in intimate relationships–

He’s so lost in his daydream about future home furnishings that he startles when Josephine touches his arm.

“It is time,” she says.

Trevelyan looks around, his gaze sweeping the hall. He’s surprised to see so many people watching him. When last he looked, the lamps were unlit and the hall was empty.

He nods to Josephine.

“Right,” he says. “Let's get this over with.”

Writer’s note: At this point, my longfic is super weird and hard to get into, I’m sure, but it’s full of these little scenes that I adore and want to share separately.

#dragon age inquisition fanfic #ficlet #dorian pavus #male trevelyan #dorian x inquisitor #dorian x trevelyan #sitting in judgment

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homeformyheart · 4 years ago

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and the winner is... - m!raleigh carrera x mc (plat)

author’s note: a happy ralence fic for @raleiighcarrera (to make up for the angsty one i published on her birthday XD)

copyright: all characters owned by pixelberry studios. song mentioned is “home” by gabriella aplin. series/pairing: platinum – m!raleigh carrera x mc (cadence dorian) rating/warnings: 13+; fluff word count: 2.4k summary: raleigh and cadence continue to test the limits of their competition to see who is more fashionably late throughout their relationship.

and the winner is…

raleigh checked his phone for what seemed like the tenth time in the last hour. cadence hadn’t replied back since she told him she was running late 40 minutes ago. unlike raleigh, she prided herself for being fairly punctual, so being more than 20 minutes late to an event was a cardinal sin and just plain absurd. they were attending some a-lister’s tequila brand launch party and agreed to meet at the venue since cadence was busy with marketing details for the upcoming album.

a familiar pair of hands suddenly covered his eyes. “guess who?” he didn’t need to turn around to know that it was his stunning and breathtaking girlfriend of two years.

“you’re late, even for you,” he murmured into her ear as he let himself fall into her embrace.

“i think i’m just very fashionably late. besides, i learned from the best,” she said, giving him a quick kiss before pulling back just as a waiter came by with a tray of drinks.

they both grabbed a glass of the featured tequila-based cocktail but not before raleigh gave her a knowing look, his eyebrow quirked and his smirk close to becoming an excited grin.

“i think that has us tied now. i guess i’ll have to up the ante at your album release party next week.”

cadence took a measured sip of her drink before giving him a flirty smile. “don’t. you. dare,” she said sweetly, but raleigh heard the threat underlying her tone.

it had become a game for them, fueled by their competitive streaks, occasionally tempered by their love for each other and not wanting to hurt each other. sometimes they alternated who showed up late to the award shows and event appearances but walked a more careful line for more personal events, like album release parties or concert afterparties.

unfortunately for cadence, raleigh was true to his word and told the group he’d “meet them at the party” the week after cadence’s album dropped. in just a week, she had three singles crack the top 10 list. her release party was at 10 circus again, despite fiona’s best attempts to convince cadence to keep things new. raleigh had given her the idea to celebrate how her success had come full circle since the odyssey and she thought it was an appropriate sentiment for her third studio album. of course, she was currently distracted by the growing frustration at how much raleigh was pushing her patience. he was already half an hour late and that was after she made it clear that he was on thin ice. at this rate, she was going to have to perform without him there.

fiona finally gave her the signal that meant she couldn’t wait any longer and she took a deep breath, preparing herself to perform on the elevated stage. she grabbed her guitar and took a seat in front of the microphone, strumming a few chords to get the crowd’s attention.

“thank you to everyone who helped inspire, create, promote, and enjoy this album. this is ‘home’,” cadence said, looking out at the crowd with fondness at the familiar faces. all but one, of course.

“i’m a phoenix in the water, a fish that’s learned to fly...” as cadence began singing, she didn’t notice raleigh sneak in from the back entrance.

he watched her perform from the side of the stage so he was out of her peripheral vision. he knew he was pushing his luck by making her think he was a no-show but he was putting the finishing touches on his surprise for cadence. as she neared the end of her song, raleigh carefully shuffled forward so he would be in her line of sight. as soon as she noticed, he gave her his trademark smirk and winked, enjoying the glare she gave him.

“as long as we’re together, does it matter where we go?” cadence held the last note before humming along with the final chords. she waved and bowed to the crowd before walking off behind a makeshift paneled area next to the stage, where raleigh quickly caught up to her.

cadence just glared at him and attempted to walk around him. raleigh blocked her until she huffed and stopped in front of him, arms folded over her chest.

“i’m not in the mood to put up with you right now, raleigh. you missed my performance after i told you not to be late,” cadence said, trying to keep her tone even.

“i didn’t miss your performance, i promise – i was watching from the back. and i know i’m late but i have a very good reason, if you’ll humor me,” he said in his most apologetic tone, throwing in what he hoped was an irresistible smile.

it must’ve worked because cadence rolled her eyes but grabbed his hand, allowing him to lead her to the back of the club and up the employees only stairwell. cadence’s irritation at raleigh was replaced by curiosity as she followed raleigh up multiple flights of stairs, past the manager’s office and storage rooms, until they ended up on the roof. raleigh led her away from the doorway and cadence gasped – at least 50 candles created a path from the doorway to the opposite railing, their soft glow illuminating the otherwise dark roof.

as they walked toward the railing, cadence suddenly heard booming sounds and looked up to a fireworks show over the east river. she turned to raleigh, who was looking at her adoringly, but before she could say anything, he pulled her in front of him so that he could wrap his hands around her waist from behind.

“this is why i was late. i love you, cadence dorian,” he murmured into her ear as he watched the fireworks reflected in her eyes.

“alright, you’re forgiven. i love you too,” cadence whispered back, her eyes mesmerized by the fireworks show. “why did you do all this though?”

raleigh stayed silent and before cadence could question him further, her eyes widened as she noticed the “will you marry me, cadence?” spelled out in the sky by the fireworks in dazzling white. as she turned to face raleigh, he took a few steps back and bent down on one knee, holding out a small box with a large emerald-cut diamond ring nestled inside.

“cadence, when i first met you at the one in a million audition, the last thing i expected was to fall for you. but you continued to surprise me with your strength and courage in facing down this crazy industry without losing sight of the real you. and every day i’m reminded that you choose to see the real me and that made it so easy to fall in love with you. i never expected that i’d ever experience true, real love in my life and now, i can’t imagine the rest of my life without you. cadence dorian, will you marry me?” raleigh took a deep breath and held cadence’s gaze, trying to make sure he conveyed as much emotion as he felt.

cadence’s hands flew to her mouth and tears started prickling the corner of her eyes. she had to blink rapidly and remind herself to focus on what raleigh was saying. in truth, she was shocked and overwhelmed. she was always reminding herself not to expect a long-term future with raleigh, since the likelihood of him settling down was low and she tried to just enjoy the present moment.

“cadence?” raleigh shifted anxiously as he waited for cadence to respond. it didn’t really occur to him until that moment that there could be a chance she said no.

cadence let out a laugh and nodded furiously. “of course i’ll marry you. i love you, raleigh,” she said enthusiastically, leaning in to give him a deep kiss.

raleigh pulled back and stood up, taking her left hand in his right so he could slide the large diamond ring on her finger, the cool band sliding down her finger reminding cadence that this wasn’t a dream. she wrapped her arms around raleigh’s neck, kissing him over and over again until she was breathless.

1 year later

raleigh closed the door behind him and took a step toward cadence, his hands tucked into the pockets of his gray suit.

“you know, it’s supposed to be bad luck to see the bride before the wedding,” cadence said, adjusting her veil as she smirked at raleigh’s reflection in the mirror.

raleigh didn’t say anything, but his casual smirked softened into a genuine smile as he approached her from behind. he slid his arms around her waist and gazed at her reflection in the mirror with adoration.

“it’s a good thing i’m not superstitious. you look breathtaking, mrs. carrera,” raleigh said, with genuine affection in his voice.

cadence tilted her head slightly so she could give him a kiss. raleigh immediately deepened it, coaxing her mouth open with his tongue, his hands tightening at her waist.

after a few moments, cadence gently pushed his chest back. “i’m not going to become mrs. carrera if you make us late to our own wedding!” she giggled as raleigh leaned in for one more kiss.

“we can’t have that, can we? i still have more points than you,” he smirked as he walked away.

cadence continued gazing at the door after raleigh walked through it, tapping her chin thoughtfully. two can play at that game, she thought to herself as zadie walked in and immediately scolded her for smudging her lipstick. she stepped outside of the room with zadie, who adjusted her train once before heading inside the chapel, leaving cadence alone with her father.

“you ready?” he smiled gently at her and cadence almost considered being on time. key word being almost.

she heard the music soften that was supposed to be her cue. raleigh, his groomsmen, and her bridesmaids would be waiting at the altar, and her wedding planner would be standing by to cue the organist.

“not yet, i want to make him sweat a little,” cadence said with a mischievous smirk. her dad chuckled and she was grateful that he was going along with her little prank.

it didn’t take long before people came by to check on her. first, she had to convince her wedding planner that it was okay she was delaying the ceremony by a few minutes and swore her to secrecy. next, when zadie came up to her and found out what she was doing, willingly offered to mess with raleigh’s head and tell him that cadence was reconsidering. finally, by the time fiona came out to check on her, cadence knew she couldn’t delay any longer.

“he is about 10 seconds away from running out here in a panic thanks to zadie,” fiona warned, but cadence could tell she was enjoying this too.

“fine, fine, let’s get going, then,” cadence said, rolling her eyes. she walked up to the archway with her father and waited for the music to start before stepping forward.

all mischievous thoughts instantly vanished when she saw her husband-to-be waiting for her at the end of the aisle. cadence barely registered the faces of her friends and family around her as she walked toward the love of her life, and when she was a few steps away, noticed how vulnerable he looked. she immediately felt a pang of guilt for freaking him out, but pushed it aside to marvel at the wondrous look in his eyes as he lifted her veil and took in her appearance.

it wasn’t until after their vows were said and they were walking back down the aisle as mr. and mrs. carrera that raleigh leaned in so that only cadence could hear him say, “you almost gave me a heart attack – can we call a truce so i never have to worry about that again?”

cadence laughed and gave his arm a squeeze. “truce.”

2 months later

“raleigh, i officially win!” cadence said triumphantly, holding out a white stick. “my period is late.”

“what?” radence just looked at her, dumbfounded. she handed the stick to him and he noticed that it had two pink lines. even he knew what that meant.

“are you seriously telling me that we’re having a kid by announcing it as part of our stupid competition? didn’t we call a truce?”

cadence beamed and raleigh laughed. “yep, but this definitely makes me the official winner. you’re going to be a daddy and there is no way you can beat this one and you shouldn’t even try if you know what’s good for you.”

raleigh wrapped cadence up in his arms and twirled her around. “alright, you win. i love you.”

8 months later

cadence squeezed raleigh’s hand as another contraction hit; she barely registered the gasp of pain he released as he tried to pull his hand from her grip, without success.

“why won’t you come out?! you’re already a week late. please, please come out already!” cadence begged her swollen belly.

“ow, cadence! i love you, but you’re definitely going to break my guitar hand,” raleigh grimaced, pulling his hand from hers and massaging it.

cadence gave him a murderous glare. “this is your fault, carrera. karma for that stupid competition and you’re not the one trying to push a human being out of their body so i don’t want to hear another complaint or so help me, i’ll—augh!” cadence reached out and grabbed raleigh’s arm as another contraction ripped through her.

a long 11 hours later, cadence and raleigh looked on in awe at the tiny bundled human in her arms.

“hi baby girl, we love you so much already,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion.

raleigh kissed cadence’s forehead and shifted so he could sit on the bed and put his arm around her. “i didn’t think it was possible to love something this much,” he agreed softly. “she sure took her sweet time getting here and put her mommy through hell.”

“i think that means she’s probably going to have a rebellious streak like her father,” cadence joked, watching her infant daughter sleep.

“we might have a new winner on our hands, if you’re ready to pass on your crown,” raleigh said, gently taking the bundle from cadence and holding her in the crook of his arm.

cadence laughed softly. “i think you’re right. she wins.”

* * * * * mentions: @raleigh-edward; @dulceghernandez; @thegreentwin; @kat-tia801; @otherworldlypresents; @brycesgirl; @robintora;

#choices platinum #reposting for new blog #choices fanfic #choices #choices fanfics #raleigh carrera #cadence dorian #raleigh x mc #raleigh carrera x mc #raleigh carrera x cadence dorian #playchoices fanfiction #pb choices #playchoices #not twc #my writing #choices fic writers creations #my choices fics

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forestofschwarzwald · 4 years ago

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More swallowed asks, I’m so glad I keep docs with the questions lol.

ANONYMOUS: Wow Victoria x Reiji sure have a lot of kids and they are all gorgeous! Any headcanons of their kids? What are their favorites and hobbies and how well do they get along with each other

And do they have a favorite uncle? I am really partial to Demetria I think.

I couldn’t help myself after I started figuring out how much Reiji wanted to top his father all ways possible. After the first 3, I ended up wanting more children… heh I guess he charmed me.

As for favorites... they are all special to me in some way, let’s say to each of my babies I have a special but different link that cannot be compared.

About their uncles, Reiji killed the triplets a long time ago, before Gin was born. So they never met them, in case that it seems strange that they’re not mentioned!

Here’s what they have to say about your question:

Hah I feel like you humans sometimes are interested in very trivial stuff… aren’t you?

Most of my free time is spent training and studying, even if it’s tough to keep up with a strict schedule, my parents don’t micromanage every minute of my day so… it feels nice. For a long time I was a prisoner, so most of my hobbies are simply habits of escapism where I put my mind away.

I like crafting bijouterie.My mother has been nurturing it for a while now, she goes out of her way to pick up the items I want.

The earring I wear is the first I made, I’ve always loved feathers.

As for my uncles… I… don’t know. Dmitri’s father, Shu, is a music teacher but I was never interested in learning, so we don’t talk.

Uncle Subaru is nice, he wasn’t too good at swordsmanship so Dmitri and I had to teach him. Despite being a weakling he has spirit, and he likes me to make bijouterie pieces for his little girl, so I’d say I get along with him the most.

When it comes to my siblings… Dianthe and Damien were always hard to get used to, up until they grew older I couldn’t really… “fit in”. When I returned to my parents I was an adult and there were two little kids I should call siblings?

I preferred to keep my distance and rebuild the relationship with my parents. The older they became the better they understood my space but they still feel like “classmates” or “roommates” more than siblings. I don’t particularly dislike them, Dianthe used to set my cape on fire whenever I accidentally made Damien cry… but gladly she grew out of that habit. Sadly she still nags me about my language… It’s irritating…

Dorian. Demetria and Dante always chased me around when they were young, and they still do when they need help… I guess they’re scared of Dianthe’s reaction so they use me as their shield. I think they’re nice, but Dorian and Demetria get in trouble on purpose often.

Dante and Damien are… a bit weird though, they’re so calm? I’m not saying I myself am annoying, but… it feels like they’re not even vampires. I think I prefer spending time with the rest of my siblings… those two make me feel like an oddball faster.

Hobbies… I believe this heavily depends on my mood.

When the weather and the atmosphere is peculiar, I enjoy writing poetry.

Our uncle, Shu, taught me how to play the violin and sometimes I play alongside Damien when our parents organize a ball at the mansion, I must say I find it pleasurable.

But… fufu ~ of course, there are things I learned to indulge in.

We were all home-schooled, however, we have a duty to attend high school as a way to keep a human cover. Humans are very interesting, what they call sins are things they are quick to indulge in with no hesitation… a little pull and I have a dog for weeks…

They quickly get greedy and want my attention for themselves… ~ And there is no better feeling than the tears of a heartbroken pet that couldn’t help but want more of me.

Ah… of course, this is a secret. My parents hold me in high regard when it comes to school behavior, trying to tell them that I’m bullying other students will get you killed ♥

About a favorite uncle, I certainly prefer uncle Shu. He is well cultured and knows quite a lot about music, he has never been mean to me or my siblings… despite clearly disliking my father. I am unaware of the tensions between them however I know it’s a centuries-old story. Because of this I never talk about it with my father, and to be sincere… I feel more comfortable talking to uncle Shu than I do with my own father…

No matter how much he says he loves his children, I can’t help but think he only sees us as… the product of him and my mother. It irritates me… even if perhaps that’s what parenthood is… I feel Shu-sama’s appreciation for us is far more sincere, and unconditional. Father also thinks he can control how we look and how we behave at all times… we are not his little toys for him to try and mold us to his taste! We are individuals.

Ah… I may have gotten carried away… I have a bad habit. I picked it up from both my parents… I just keep talking and talking about things that irritate me. Fufu… well it doesn't matter anymore.

For my siblings, I would appreciate it if they were all like Damien, well behaved, well mannered, able to follow the rules and quiet. However this is not the case.

Gin may have been excused by our parents, even spoiled in my honest opinion, but I believe he needs to be properly educated in how to address formal situations! Despite me heavily disliking the imposition of a mold to adapt to, I understand its importance. Gin could have some consideration and at least not make the whole family look weak! He rolls his eyes, does not stand straight and eats like a caveman!

I don’t care how much he says he was a soldier, a prisoner, and whatnot! He is not anymore, he’s a prince and he should behave as such!

Damien is the one I get along with the most. He’s adorable and always looked for me for help, he was always interested in learning etiquette, and everything my father and mother taught us. He was always a respectable part of our family and he is the cook at the mansion! Our father is still far more skilled, but Damien makes very nice… “homemade” looking food. It has a loving warmth to it… I love my little brother.

Dorian… he thinks he is so much better than everyone else… he keeps competing with me at everything and, of course… he fails miserably. He is a mediocre number 2 that does not realize that being royal is about meeting goals, not just being born it. I would burn his eyebrows off if our parents weren’t so keen on reminding us not to fight. Despite this fact, he is quite the skilled dancer and always stands at parties, I am below average at this, and that is the only thing he’s allowed to win at.

His vanity will catch up to him one day, however. My mother has always expressed her concern about Dorian’s extravagant behavior, she believes he will be one day shot down from the skies and he’ll fall deep, and if anyone is to be believed… that is my mother. She knows how vampires are… or perhaps, Dorian has a bit of my father in him.

Demetria is quite the impressive lady, she meets all expectations… but she doesn’t talk to me much. As her older sister I have always offered my help, but she is… cold. Most of the time I can’t tell what’s going through her mind.

And our baby boy Dante… he was always a sick child. He was so weak when he was born that our mother decided to curse herself to not bear any more children. I know the word “curse” sounds strong… but worry not, she merely magically sterilized herself, it is a “curse” because it is irreversible.

Anyhow, Dante is the weakest among us and we all feel generally protective of him. However, I suspect there may be more to him than just… weakness. You see, Dante is usually calm and… quite tolerant, but when enraged… even I have trembled at the sensation of his aura. I think Dante may have explosive powers that he is unaware of… so I keep a good eye on him, we do not want his overwhelming power to hurt his weaker body. Despite that… he really is a brat, he likes to mock my manners as if I was some grandma roaming the mansion, and that is quite irritating! I know he is having fun whilst teasing me, but can’t he shut up for one millisecond as I talk to my mother?!

Hm… Ah… I have spoken for so long that my throat feels dry… You should be paying for this, you know? I have given you such a thorough explanation… blood is the least you should be offering right now.

Oh good evening, that is an interesting question. I always enjoyed gardening, the castle has many different types of flowers, even flowers you won’t believe existed are in underground hidden gardens, so I can confidently say that is my hobby.

I keep a diary where I draw each flower and study its properties. Being sincere, my father gives me the details since I personally am not fond of chemistry.

I also enjoy making bouquets for decor when there are parties at the mansion or as gifts, Aurora enjoys them a lot.

I don’t think I have a favorite uncle, both of them are nice to me.

As for my siblings, hm… —he sighs— I wish they weren’t so closed about their feelings. Dante and I agree that half of their problems are because they don’t admit how they feel.

Gin is very distant… We don't know what really happened to him before he attacked the castle years ago, and when I tried asking I got punched in the face haha… —he scratches the side of his face, smiling awkwardly — He apologized so many times afterwards, I’ve lost count of it. I learned not to ask about that. My older sister Dianthe is always treating me like I am her baby, and always pretends everything is okay, but I think something about Dorian and Demetria wanting to be the next head of the family is bothering her. She doesn’t talk about it and keeps acting like she is the eldest and in charge… but I think she’s having a hard time, she should realize how much of a perfect fit for a queen she is.

She’s a really gentle person… She may have some really weird hobbies… but I think deep down Dianthe is a kind soul, like our parents.

Dorian and Demetria both keep competing with Dianthe because they see her excel at so many things, that they feel like they’re less than her. They simply are insecure and they crave attention. I have to keep an eye on the kitchen or they’ll try to cook and blow it up… Our father is very sensible about the kitchen so I have to guard it.

I think Dorian and Demetria will have the hardest time coping with immortality… I sincerely worry but they don’t listen to me! They think that because I’m soft spoken I’m simply weak… —he sighs again.

Dante is usually quiet and I would say he is the most healthy mentally. However, he has some anger issues… whenever he is extremely angry his aura will rise… I never saw Gin and Dianthe scared before… so I’m aware they felt like not even them could handle Dante’s power. I worry about him since he is very frail, I’ve seen our father check on Dante’s physical condition regularly.

If he gets injured he takes longer to regenerate, he doesn’t drink live blood… he drinks donated blood from a plastic bag. I can understand how disturbing it is that we have to sink our fangs and hurt someone to feed… but… I worry he is deteriorating his state… He’s not interested in relationships so the chances of him having someone personally feed him are low as long as he does this.

He’s nice… he always keeps Dorian and Demetria in line by calling their attention or advising them. Despite being the youngest, he acts like he’s older than those two troublemakers.

We often find ourselves shaking our heads at the behavior of our siblings, I think he understands me the most, although I don’t think I understand him fully.

I hope to have answered all of your questions.

Usually I would request for you to be on all fours and kiss my boots before you try to get any personal detail from me… but out of whim, I will be lenient. Just know that the rest of my pets won’t like you and… if they bite you, I won’t take any responsibility —he fixes himself on the sofa, legs spread in a relaxed manner — Anyway… what were you asking me about? Ah yes yes… Well I enjoy creating poisons. My father expanded on this with other types of chemicals… but I just like the good old slow burn of death… of course, I was prohibited from killing animals and people on purpose… so I simply focused on antidotes as well.

I don’t use them often however, they’re harder to make than you’d think.

As for my siblings… they’re unavoidable and a nuisance. Dante is extremely creepy with his aura bursts and Dianthe keeps nagging, I could do without them, but if I had to choose the least of nuisances I would say Dante is good enough. The older three have a tendency to exert authority over the rest of us and I am frankly not a fan.

When it comes to a favorite uncle I of course have none, the only reason they are around in the first place is thanks to my mother’s incomprehensible kindness and my father’s loyalty to her will. Whenever they visit I rather spend my precious yet limited time somewhere else.

Well, what are you waiting for? Either bow down to me or leave, I have plenty of hungry pets to discipline already so don’t waste my time.

Your favorite, huh ~ I am not surprised. After all, who wouldn’t fall for my charms ;)

Anyway, let’s paint a clearer image of myself for you, shall we? In my free time I like to design BDSM instruments and sextoys… fufu~ Humans rarely ever openly embrace their sinful nature, but beasts like us shamelessly embrace our darkest thoughts in a “heartbeat”.

As for my siblings… I wish Dianthe didn’t exist. She thinks she’s special and every time I get to impress our parents she shows up, almost like she has a timer set for it.

Her facade sickens me… one small poke at her and she will blow up and drop her “perfect princess” mask. Yet our parents think she is deserving of the crown?! She does not have true manners if all of her manners are fake!

Anyway… Gin is quite the brute… and Dorian gets on everyone's nerves quite fast. He is the reason we are all afraid of our mother in the first place, he has managed to somehow make her furious once. That day we knew she could kill us if we defied the crown.

Dante is… —her lips curl into a soft smile— while he is a bit younger than me he has always behaved like my older brother. He helped me whenever I struggled, and he always tells me I’m good enough.

About my uncles, there is not much to say about them is it? I am not interested in the non-royal side of the family.

Hobbies...I love videogames, and I have a favorite character that I love and cherish. I also enjoy streaming and speedrunning some games, sometimes my mother joins in for some quality content.

With the exception of my mother, I think my entire family is crazy… I don’t hate them though, I think they’re cool. But… they’re weird.

Uncle Shu is always donating to my streams, he’s really supportive. Despite his and father’s terrible relationship, he seems to be willing to stay a family figure for all of us.

#AVictoria #AGin #ADianthe #ADamien #ADorian #ADemetria #ADante #Diabolik Lovers #OCs #Self shipping

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pikapeppa · 5 years ago

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Cullavellan & FenHawke pirate AU: Stories

Chapter 28 of Where The Winds Of Fortune Take Me is up on AO3! In which Piper tells stories. Many stories. Of different kinds. (NSFW. bahahah.)

There are TWO sketches for this week too!! But the second one is saucy... go to the AO3 chapter to check it out!!

Read here on AO3 instead! ~6300 words.

- CULLEN -

Cullen smiled and sipped his beer as he listened to Merrill and Piper’s storytelling. He and a handful of the crew were in a haphazard circle on the deck and listening as Merrill and Piper took turns telling stories about the elven gods. The evening’s activities had begun as something of a lesson in elven history prior to the Lady Luck’s journey to the Arlathan Forest, but the gathering had become more and more informal as the inevitable drinks began to flow.

Merrill was giggling at some interjection Piper had made. She wiped a tear of mirth from her eye before continuing her tale. “As I was trying to say, Andruil turned Ghilan’nain into a beautiful halla – the very first halla. With her keen eyesight and her keen sense of direction, Ghilan’nain found her way home to her sisters, and there they lived happily together… until Fen’Harel found them.” The little cook’s smile grew mysterious. “But that’s another story.”

There was a murmur of interest from the crew, and Varric nodded approvingly. “Very nice cliffhanger, Daisy.” He turned to Hawke, who was sitting cross-legged beside him. “See, this is why she proofreads for me. Daisy’s got a knack for storytelling.”

Hawke sighed dramatically. “I understand, Varric. You need an ego boost, you come to me. You need an actual brain, you go to Merrill.”

Varric snorted in amusement. From across the informal circle, Anders called out to her. “Come on, Hawke, you have a brain. Maybe just not for proofreading.”

Hawke blew him a kiss, and Fenris shifted restlessly beside her. Then Cole spoke from his position perched on the taffrail near Piper and Merrill’s heads.

“If she was a deer, how did she sleep?” he asked.

Merrill blinked up at him. “What do you mean, Cole?”

Cole lifted his shoulders. “There are no holes for hooves in a bed. Did she stand?”

Merrill smiled. “Oh! Well, you see, Ghilan’nain was able to change from a halla to an elf and back again. And actually, that’s one of the things that drew the Dread Wolf to her. Or so the legends say,” she said enigmatically. Then she patted Piper’s shoulder. “But it’s the Captain’s turn for a story now.”

Anders groaned. “Not Piper’s turn again. Her stories are always an enormous joke.”

“Don’t forget a terrible exaggeration,” Dorian added. “Sometimes they’re a terrible exaggeration.”

Piper punched Anders in the arm. “Excuse all of you! What mutiny is this?”

Varric waved a hand. “Yeah, cut the Captain a break. Sometimes her stories are true. Like the time she outwitted a handful of qunari with a ball of twine, a handkerchief and a measuring stick.”

Cullen lowered his stein and looked at her in surprise. “Is that true?”

“Almost true,” Fenris said. “They were tal-vashoth, not qunari.”

Anders tutted. “Like that detail makes any difference to the story.”

Fenris shrugged carelessly and sipped from his bottle of wine, and Hawke waved her hands impatiently. “Come on, enough of this, I want to hear another Piper story.”

Cullen cleared his throat. “I would as well.”

“Aren’t you both just adorable,” Piper purred. She winked at Cullen from across the circle, then clapped her hands once. “All right. Here’s another story of the Dread Wolf. Once upon a time, during a very hot summer, the Dread Wolf had been walking for a three whole days and three whole nights without a drop of water. Luckily, he came upon a tavern…”

Varric sighed playfully. “Here we go.”

Hawke poked his arm. “Hush!”

Piper winked at her and continued her tale. “... but the tavern didn’t allow wolves to come inside. The Dread Wolf was so desperately in need of a beer that he came up with a plan. He found a sapling and made a bow–”

Dorian interrupted. “I thought this creature was a wolf. How did he–?”

Hawke tutted and threw a cork at him. “It’s a metaphor, obviously,” she said loudly.

Dorian raised his eyebrows. “Is it, though? That’s not what Merrill’s stories are implying.”

Everyone hushed him loudly, and Piper grinned. “Thank you. The Captain is speaking,” she announced. “Now, the Dread Wolf made a bow and an arrow, but he had no feathers for fletching. ‘That’s all right,’ he thought, ‘it will be a slow arrow instead.’ So he stood back and took a deep breath… and he shot the slow arrow right over the tavern.”

Cullen blinked. “Over the tavern?”

Piper smiled at him. “That’s right, Golden Boy: over the tavern. He shot the slow arrow, then settled down beside the tavern to wait. Later that night, a drunken man came out of the tavern with a full stein of ale in hand. He spotted the Dread Wolf, and for one single second, the wolf’s eyes met the man’s.” She paused and looked around at everyone suspensefully, and when her hazel eyes met Cullen’s, the tiniest hint of a smile lifted the corner of her scarred lips.

A little jolt of contentment squeezed his heart. Then Piper suddenly snapped her fingers. “And that’s when the slow arrow came down and struck the man dead,” she said. She folded her legs and rested her palms sagely on her knees. “The dead man’s stein of ale fell into the Dread Wolf’s lap without a single drop spilled. And that, boys and girls, is how the Dread Wolf got his drink.”

Anders clicked his tongue ruefully. “Brutal bastard, this Dread Wolf.”

Cole folded his legs up on the taffrail. “Waiting, wanting, wandering the world. Justice, not revenge, but the faces are close.”

Cullen frowned slightly at Cole’s perplexing comment, but Merrill smiled up at him. “I think I know what you mean, Cole. The Dread Wolf can be very patient when it suits him. But sometimes he just likes to do mischief for mischief’s sake.” She turned to Piper eagerly. “Is it my turn?”

“Absolutely, my lovely lethallan,” Piper said with a flourish.

Merrill beamed at everyone. “All right. Here’s another tale of the Dread Wolf’s mischief. There once was a farmer who wished to dam a river to irrigate the crops for his village. But in the next village over, there was a fisherman who wanted to divert the river to supply fish for his people…”

Cullen sipped his beer again as Merrill told her tale. He was listening to Merrill, truly he was, but he couldn’t help but gaze at Piper while he listened. The lanterns lit her complexion to an even warmer shade of its usual burnished bronze, and as he often did, Cullen marvelled at the contrast between her bight silvery hair and the deep sunkissed gold of her skin. Not to mention the fascinating pale patterns of the ink that decorated her entire back, from the dip at the base of her spine up to the delicate nape of her neck…

Hawke suddenly plopped herself down between him and Fenris, and he jolted in startlement.

“Cullen!” Hawke exclaimed. “Don’t you love–”

He held up one hand and darted a look at Merrill, who was still animatedly telling her story. “Quietly please, Hawke,” he murmured.

She winced. “Shit. You’re right. Sorry.” She lowered her voice. “Don’t you love it here on the Lady Luck?”

On Hawke’s other side, Fenris smirked, and Cullen forced himself not to laugh at her tipsiness. “Yes, I do,” he said politely. “I’m glad to see that you’re feeling at home here, as well. I was concerned at first.”

She tilted her head. “Why? Because I’m the precious pampered Belle of Kirkwall?”

He blinked in startlement. It was still something of a shock at times to hear Hawke speaking in such a blunt manner. He was still far more accustomed to her immaculate manners than her brashness. “Yes, actually,” he admitted. “I had assumed it would be a difficult transition for you. Navy life was a difficult transition for me, and I was prepared for it.”

Hawke shrugged and stretched her legs out. “Not really. I love Merrill’s cooking, and the dried rations aren’t so bad. I love being Anders’ assistant, and the crew’s hammocks are quite comfortable! Though Fenris’s bed is even nicer.” She turned and winked at Fenris, who huffed in amusement and sipped from his bottle of wine before offering it to her.

She took the bottle and took a gulp, then turned back to Cullen once more. “Besides, desperate times call for desperate measures. If you get a chance to start a new life, you don’t turn that down. As you know,” she added with a friendly squeeze to his arm.

Cullen smiled. “That is true,” he said, with a fond glance at Piper.

Then he suddenly realized something odd. He turned back to Hawke with a small frown. “Hawke, it occurs to me that I never did learn why you left Kirkwall,” he said. He knew that her family was stained by a bit of scandal, what with Leandra Amell’s marriage to the lower-status Malcolm Hawke. But the Hawkes were one of the more well-off families in Hightown. Cullen had tried to avoid the petty gossip as much as possible, but he’d always been under the impression that the Hawke family was content. Or stable, at the very least.

Hawke’s eyes widened. “Oh Maker, I didn’t tell you, did I? Well, you certainly heard about my engagement to Duke Prosper.”

Fenris shifted slightly beside her, and Cullen glanced at him apprehensively before replying. “I was aware, yes,” he said. “It sounded like a prosperous match.” His eyes widened in horror as he realized what he’d said. “Er, no pun intended,” he said hastily.

She grinned. “Too bad. It would have been funnier if it was. But yes, the match would have been prosperous for my mother. Not for me, though.” She gave him an appraising look. “I don’t suppose you know of his reputation?”

Cullen frowned slightly. “Reputation?”

Hawke studied him for a moment longer, then folded her legs. “Duke Prosper has beaten and raped more than one of the female servants in his household,” she said baldly.

A jolt of horror stopped his breath for a moment. He stared at her flat expression in horror. “Maker’s breath,” he finally stammered. “I… I didn’t know.”

“Most men don’t,” she said quietly. “Most people didn’t, actually, unless they were servants as well. Carver didn’t know, for example. He was just as shocked as you when I told him.” She gave Cullen a kindly look. “It’s not your fault. The good Duke hides it well.”

Did your mother know? Cullen wondered. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask, but something about Hawke’s neutral expression – combined with the scowl on Fenris’s face – told him everything he needed to know.

He licked his lips nervously. “I understand why you wanted to leave,” he said carefully. “How did it come to pass? Your decision to, er…” He faltered as he tried to find the appropriate word. Before this, he would have said she had run away. But now, knowing the context…

“How did I escape?” she said. She chuckled. “Honestly, it was almost a whim. A heartfelt whim, but still a whim. I wrote a shameless letter to Piper asking for her help, and one of my friends – er, one of our servants – she took it to Lowtown for me. Then I just waited and hoped Piper would receive the letter and take pity on me before I was married off.”

Cullen nodded slowly. “Piper did mention that she helped you to… to escape.”

“She and Fenris, yes,” Hawke confirmed. She chuckled and shook her head. “It was madness on their part, really. They didn’t even know why I wanted to escape; I didn’t want to put it in the letter in case someone got snoopy and read it. And Piper had only met me… what, twice? But she and Fenris came anyway.” She smiled at Fenris.

Fenris shook his head. “Piper deserves the credit for your rescue, not I. She refused to leave without you. I–”

“Don’t,” Hawke said firmly, and she took his hand. “You helped me to escape. That’s what matters.”

Cullen, meanwhile, was preoccupied by Piper’s role in Hawke’s escape. At the time that Piper had gotten Hawke out of Kirkwall, her capture would have meant her death, and Cullen hadn’t been present in Kirkwall to prevent it. Piper had risked her life to help a woman she barely knew, even at a risk to her own safety.

But that was Piper. Her sense of right and wrong was very clear, as was her tendency to be both reckless and selfless in equal parts, and Cullen adored her for it, even as he worried about her.

He looked at her again from across the informal circle of crewmates. She was listening to Merrill’s story with a soft smile on her lips, and Cullen studied the scars on her face with a painful sort of fondness. There was the jagged slash that bisected her left eyebrow and ran just below her eye, and the scar on her left earlobe as well as the shallow slash that ran over her left hipbone: all testament to her haphazard weapons training and her tendency to ignore her left side, just as she tended to ignore the possible risks to her own life. She wouldn’t do anything to risk the lives of her crew without their wholehearted consent, but her own life…

“She is something, isn’t she?” Hawke said softly.

Cullen glanced at her distractedly. “Pardon me?”

“Piper,” Hawke said. “She’s wonderful, isn’t she? I’ve never met anyone like her before.”

Cullen swallowed hard. Hawke was wearing a knowing little smile, and he could feel his cheeks turning pink in response. “Neither have I,” he confessed. “Every pirate I had ever met before her was… a monster.”

Hawke’s eyebrows rose in sympathy, but Cullen shook his head. “It’s not worth speaking of,” he said. “Regardless, Piper was… from the moment we met, she was nothing like any pirate I had met before.” He rubbed his chin slowly. “I was unwilling to admit it to myself, but… I always knew she was more than just a pirate.” And now, more than a year after they had first met, Piper was still more than he’d ever imagined she would be. She was more than just a beautiful troublemaker who appeared once a month to give him hassles and stories. She was more than a mischievous criminal with a courageous heart.

She was the woman who offered him help with no expectation of anything in return. She was the woman that Cullen trusted with his history and his heart, and who gave him those parts of herself in turn. Piper was the best thing in his life, the catalyst who had led him from a static life of routine to a more chaotic but much more joy-filled life that he would never otherwise have seen.

Hawke was beaming at him wordlessly, and Cullen bashfully ducked his head. Neither he nor Hawke had spoken for a few long moments, but he couldn’t help but feel that she understood exactly what he felt.

She chuckled and stretched her legs out once more. “Who would have thought the Belle of Kirkwall and the Commander of the Kirkwall Navy would find love on a pirate ship of all places?”

Cullen smiled at her. “Who indeed?”

Hawke beamed at him, then nestled her head against Fenris’s shoulder. Then Piper’s loud voice pulled his attention.

“All right, one more,” she said. She was sitting up on her knees, and she had a very mischievous look on her face.

“Now this is a good one,” she said. “This is about a time that I faced the Dread Wolf myself.”

Cullen hid his smile in his stein,and Anders scoffed. “This ought to be good,” he said.

Piper grinned and punched him again. “Not only is it a good one, but it’s true. Just you wait.” She looked around at everyone. “One day when I was small, I was walking through the market when I felt a shadow following me.” Her face became serious as she continued her tale. “It was a large shadow with a very quiet whispering voice, but I couldn’t tell what the voice was saying. I turned around, but the shadow was gone.” She took a sip of beer, then continued in a low and somber voice. “This went on for two more days. The shadow would follow me with its silent steps, and every time I turned, it was gone. On the third day, however, I turned just in time to catch a glimpse of my shadow. It was a huge black wolf with glowing red eyes and slavering fangs.”

“The Dread Wolf!” Merrill exclaimed.

“Exactly,” Piper said. “The Dread Wolf had caught my scent. I knew right then and there that I had to make a trap to catch him. So I set up a crate propped up by a stick, and I caught a rat and roasted it, and I put the roasted rat in the trap and waited for the Dread Wolf to come.”

“Wait,” Anders protested. “Seriously? That’s what you used to lure the ancient elven god of mischief who kills men for beer and screws over entire villages? A roasted rat under a propped-up crate?”

Varric chuckled. “It’s so implausible, it must be true.”

Piper graced them all with an enigmatic smile. “Regardless of what our dear skeptical doctor thinks, that’s what I did. And sure enough, the Dread Wolf drew near.” She leaned forward and widened her eyes. “He was terrifying up close, let me tell you. His fur was dark and matted, and his eyes were bright with rage. He took one sniff of the perfectly roasted rat and stepped into the trap.” She clapped her hands sharply, making Hawke and Merrill jump in alarm. “The crate came down with a crash, and I had caught the Dread Wolf!”

Dorian raised his chalice of wine to her. “Benefaris. Well done, Captain.”

She held up a cautionary hand. “Hold on. The tale’s not yet done.” She leaned forward again and looked at them all with wide eyes. “I crept close to the trap and lifted the corner of the crate. The roasted rat was gone, and so was the Dread Wolf.”

Merrill shook her head wryly. “Oh, Piper. You should have known the Dread Wolf couldn’t be caught that easily.”

Piper shrugged and chuckled. “I know. I should have listened better to Deshanna’s stories. But sometimes, on very quiet nights when I close my eyes, I can still hear the Dread Wolf’s whispering voice.” She closed her eyes and held up a finger as thought she was listening to a voice that none of them could hear.

A tense moment later, Hawke leaned toward her. “What does he say?” she asked eagerly.

Piper was silent for another moment. Then she lowered her finger and opened her eyes. “He says…” She paused for a moment, then smiled. “‘I need a fucking stein of ale’.”

Everyone exploded into laughter and jeering, and Hawke and Dorian threw peanuts and corks at her. Piper laughed, then stood up and bowed. “All right, all right, don’t throw corks, just throw coin.”

Dorian and Anders playfully booed her, and she let out another lovely rolling laugh. “On this note, I’ll turn the storytelling over to our resident author,” she said, and she bowed ostentatiously to Varric.

Varric nodded graciously. “My pleasure, Captain. Now, I don’t have any ancient elf stories, but I’ve got an amusing story about this one over here.” He jerked a thumb at Hawke.

Hawke rested her fingers delicately on her chest and batted her eyelashes. “Who, me? Oh Varric, you shouldn’t tell a lady’s secret tales.”

Fenris snorted. “You aren’t a lady anymore. Your secret tales are fair game now.”

She laughed and draped her arms around his neck. “Right as always, Fenris. All right, Varric, slander away.”

Fenris smirked, and Varric launched into a story about Hawke hiding out in his book shop back before he had joined Piper’s crew. As Varric spoke, however, Piper was sidling around to Cullen’s side.

She held out one hand to him as he drew near. “Come on, Golden Boy,” she murmured. “I have a story just for you.”

He eagerly reached for her hand, but he couldn’t help but glance guiltily at the assembled crew as he rose to his feet. “You don’t think the others will mind?” he murmured.

“Not at all,” she said. “Come on.” She twined her fingers with his, and they began a leisurely stroll toward her quarters. “Remember how I told you I’d come up with a better story for you?”

He gently squeezed her hand. The ‘story’ she’d told him – of her father’s death – was still on his mind. “Yes, of course,” he said. “But you don’t owe me any stories, Piper. There is no obligation.”

She shrugged cheerfully. “I know. But this is a good one.”

He looked down at her. Her hazel eyes were twinkling, and her lips were curled with mischief once more.

Then she launched into her tale. “There once was an elven girl who was the captain of a ship. She had dirty feet and a back covered with tattoos, and instead of a brain, she had a huge pile of silver hair that threatened to swallow anyone who came too close.”

Cullen chuckled. “Now Piper, that’s hardly a fair description of yourself–”

“Hush now, the Captain is speaking,” she announced. She pushed open the door to her quarters and ushered Cullen inside.

He entered her cabin, and she continued her story as she closed the door. “One day, the elven captain came to Kirkwall for an errand with her dwarven quartermaster. While she was in Kirkwall, she decided to take a little stroll up to the Hightown market. And it turned out to be the best idea she ever had, because who did she meet in the Hightown market but the Kirkwall Navy’s most handsome commander?”

Cullen ruefully rubbed the back of his neck. He knew what she was telling now: the story of the first time they’d met.

“Maker have mercy on the commander,” he said jokingly.

She laughed and poked his chest. “Now, this handsome commander had a very stern frown on his face, and the elven captain almost had him pegged as another navy asshole.” He scoffed, and she grinned at him before going on. “But while she moved through the market, she watched him doing his patrol, and she noticed that he wasn’t hassling anyone. He wasn’t trying to provoke anyone to get them into trouble. He was just… observing. Just keeping an eye out to make sure everyone was safe.”

Cullen looked at her in surprise. He didn’t know that she’d noticed him before they’d actually met.

“You were watching me?” he asked.

Piper quirked an eyebrow as she approached him. “How could I – I mean, how could she not? The commander was so handsome, with a lovely strong chin and perfect hair that was more golden than the sun. But the longer she watched him, the more she noticed that he seemed to be not only a handsome human, but a fair one.” She reached up and stroked his cheek, then pushed him down to sit at the edge of the bed.

An instinctive jolt of interest stirred in his groin, but Piper turned away from him and started slowly pacing around the ornately carved meeting table. “So the elven captain started looking around at the fancy Hightown wares,” she said. “The shopkeepers sneered at her and ignored her, but this was what she wanted: when a greengrocer was busy ignoring her, she stole three sachets of almonds and a loaf of fresh bread from his stall.”

Cullen ruefully shook his head. He still remembered the ruckus that the greengrocer had made. He’d been so dramatic that Cullen had initially thought Piper had attacked him.

He gave Piper a chiding look. “It was a foolish move,” he said sternly.

She smirked, then continued to speak as she wandered around the meeting table. “The elven captain ran away with her almonds and bread, and the commander pursued her. But the commander had been doing quite a bit of desk duty–”

Cullen folded his arms. “I was not out of shape. You are very quick.”

She barked out a laugh. “All right, fine. The elven captain was so fast and clever that she got away from the commander for a little while. Once he caught up to her, though, he saw her giving the almonds and the bread to some dirty little elven kids who didn’t have any parents.” She came to a stop beside the table and met Cullen’s eyes, and the seriousness and warmth of her expression made his breath catch.

“She knew that the commander saw her,” Piper said softly. “But he let her give the children the stolen food, and he let the children run away. And he didn’t move to arrest the elven captain for theft.” She tilted her head.

Cullen swallowed hard. Her expression was very tender and curious, and Cullen wasn’t sure what to say. He still remembered his surprise and his uncertainty as he’d watched this wild-haired elven woman giving stolen food to a handful of orphans. He had genuinely never encountered anyone doing anything like this before – committing a risky crime for a selfless reason. He’d been so stunned that he’d simply watched as the children ran away.

He gazed wordlessly at Piper. A few heartbeats later, a slow smile lifted her lips.

She sauntered toward him. “The elven captain walked up to the commander, and saucy bitch that she was, she ran her finger down his chest.” Piper stopped in front of him, then trailed her finger along the length of his sternum.

A flush of warmth ran down his throat, and he swallowed hard. Then Piper sidled closer to him until she was standing between his legs. “The commander’s face turned red – yes, just like that.” She let out a throaty laugh as Cullen’s blasted cheeks started to warm. “And the elven captain said–”

“I remember what you said,” Cullen blurted.

She smiled at him. “Oh yes? What did I say?”

He took a deep breath. “You said, ‘you’ll remember this as the day you almost caught Captain Piper Lavellan.’”

Her smile widened. She slowly traced one finger along the line of his jaw. “And what did I call you?” she murmured.

“You…” He cleared his throat. “You called me Golden Boy.”

Piper studied him with that warm and enigmatic smile, and Cullen just stared at her. Her expression was so knowing and so sly, and the way she was watching him was making him feel… well, his heart was thrumming in his throat, and he couldn’t decide if he was excited or inexplicably nervous. Or some tantalizing combination of both.

She tilted his chin up. “And then you let me go,” she said thoughtfully.

“I… I did, yes,” he stammered.

“Why?”

He nervously licked his lips. “What do you mean?”

She tilted her head curiously. “Why did you let me go? You had never let a criminal go before, had you?”

He shook his head. “No, I hadn’t.”

“So why me?” Her fingers left his jaw to slide along his temple through his hair, and he tried to ignore how good it felt as he scrambled for a reply.

“It… I was not certain how to define the nature of the crime, given the… intent,” he finally said.

Her hand returned to gently stroke his cheek. “And that’s how I knew you really were a Golden Boy,” she murmured.

He didn’t know what to say to that. His heart was pounding in his throat and his ears and – Maker save him, between his legs as well – and her sly and knowing smile was soft and tender now.

Then, to Cullen’s disappointment, she dropped her hand and stepped away from him.

She started to pace again in a slow and aimless way. “Now this is a part of the story you don’t know,” she said. “The elven captain ran off and left the Golden Boy behind, but he stayed on her mind when she returned to her ship – which, by the way, was the finest ship in all of Thedas.”

Cullen released a slow breath and smiled. “Of course.”

She shot him a quick grin. Then, as she continued talking, she started to untuck her loose linen shirt from her breeches.

Cullen‍ straightened with anticipation, but Piper was still talking in that low, calm, storytelling sort of voice. “The elven captain knew she should be doing work, like writing in the captain’s log or sparring with the crew or patching her clothes. But all she could think about was that handsome Golden Boy.” She pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it on the table.

She slowly pushed her hair back, and Cullen stared gormlessly at her pert nipples and the tattoos that framed her breasts. Then she was sashaying slowly toward him, and her half-nude body was competing for his attention with her husky voice.

“She kept thinking about his lips,” Piper said. “How pouty they were while he was scowling, and how she’d like to lick the scar on his upper lip.”

Cullen’s eyes flew to her face. Her expression was one of unequivocal intent, and the excitement that was simmering low in his belly turned up to a boil.

“You – she – you did?” he said weakly.

She nodded as she came to stand between his legs once more. “She kept thinking about this scar right here.” She ran the tip of one slender finger over the scar that marred his upper lip, then met his eyes.

She raised her eyebrows, and Cullen nodded eagerly.

Piper tilted his chin up once more and traced the very tip of her tongue over his lower lip, and Cullen instinctively parted his lips. Her tongue danced along his upper lip and across his scar, and Cullen waited breathlessly for her kiss–

She nipped his lower lip, and he stopped breathing from sheer excitement. Then she released his chin and stepped away.

He leaned toward her, but she was already out of his reach. “Piper,” he begged.

She started speaking again as though she hadn’t heard him. “The elven captain also kept thinking about the Golden Boy’s body,” she said casually. “Now, she couldn’t really be sure what kind of body he had under his fancy navy uniform, but she liked to imagine that it was hard and muscled, with just the right amount of hair.” She was working the buttons of her breeches as she spoke, and Cullen stared stupidly at her slim and scarred hands for a moment before realizing that she watching him expectantly.

He swallowed hard, then followed her implicit demand: he pulled off his shirt and laid it on the bed, then met her eyes.

The corner of her lips quirked in approval. “Yes, that’s exactly what the elven captain was thinking about.” She pushed her breeches down, leaving her body completely bare.

His manhood pulsed with want, and he shifted restlessly on the bed, but Piper was talking once more. “Now this elven captain: she was a lusty lady, you see, so she was also imagining that Golden Boy’s cock, and how thick and hard it must be when he was ready to fuck.”

Maker’s breath. He wasn’t sure why, but every time Piper started up with these dirty words, it was like a part of his mind left him entirely, leaving him incapable of thinking about anything but the next naughty thing that might fall from her mischievous lips.

He stood up and untied his sash, and a few ragged breaths later, he was naked as well. Piper’s heated gaze slid slowly down his body, and Cullen almost shivered with desire: her attention and her intention were so patently clear, and when her eyes came to land on his manhood, he was so aroused that he didn’t even blush.

She bit her lip, then slowly raised her eyes back up to his face. “The elven captain was so turned on by the thought of this Golden Boy, with his handsome golden hair and his thick hard cock, and she wanted him lying back on her bed. She wanted to ride that handsome face of his while he licked her with his pretty mouth.” She raised one quizzical eyebrow.

His eyes dropped to the telltale sheen of moisture at her inner thighs, and he immediately sat on the bed. Before he was fully settled on his back, Piper was crawling over him. Her petite breasts skimmed over his swollen shaft, and Cullen gasped and jerked his hips.

She bit his nipple gently, making him gasp again. By the time she was straddling his face, his manhood was almost aching with want, and his mouth was watering for her.

She looked down at him and ran her fingers through his hair. “Lick me,” she purred. “Make me scream with that handsome mouth of yours.”

He didn’t hesitate. He wrapped his hands around her thighs and pulled her hips closer to his mouth, then placed an open-mouthed kiss between her legs.

She gasped. “Yes,” she breathed, and then she was undulating toward him, pushing her warmth toward his willing mouth, and Cullen enjoyed the rolling of her hips as she coated his lips and tongue with her sweet-and-salty taste.

She moaned and rested her palms on the wall overhead, and Cullen’s manhood throbbed in response to her pleasured sounds. He lifted his hips by instinct, but Piper’s hips were still moving and pressing her swollen nub toward his tongue, and Cullen forced himself to focus on the sharpness of her breathing and her secret scent as she rocked herself toward his mouth.

She suddenly pounded the wall. “Fuck,” she gasped, and she threw her head back and let out a wild cry. The sound of it was guttural and uninhibited, sending a fresh thrill through his chest and straight down to his impatiently throbbing groin, and he clenched his fingers in her thighs as she rode his face to the end of her peak.

She slid her hand through his hair as she climbed off of him, then reached down and wrapped her fingers around his pulsing shaft. “Now,” she gasped, “what the elven captain really wanted was for the Golden Boy to fuck her exactly how he wanted her.” She squeezed his manhood, and Cullen blurted out the first thing on his mind.

“You on top,” he said. “Piper, please, I… I would like–”

“Whatever you want, Golden Boy,” she said, and she swiftly straddled his hips. “Take me how you want me.”

“Gladly,” he panted. He sat up and shuffled back so he was resting against the wall, then grabbed her hips and pulled her onto his desperate manhood.

Maker, she was so incredibly warm and wet. An unstoppable groan left his throat as he slipped inside of her, and a moment later, his palms were splayed on her luscious bottom as he pulled her against his body in a frenzy of want.

She dug her fingers into his shoulders. “You want me to fuck you hard?” she demanded.

“Yes,” he gasped.

She grinned, then thrust herself hard onto his lap, and he jerked and dropped his forehead against her shoulder. “Piper,” he begged.

She pressed her lips to his temple. “Again?” she breathed.

“Please,” he moaned.

She lifted herself once more and came down hard onto his lap, and Cullen pressed his gasping lips against the side of her throat. Then she was riding him fast and hard, and the tendon in her neck was salty and firm against his teeth, and his heartbeat was a frantic tattoo in his ears and her hair was a tangle of silver silk in his fingers–

He hit his peak in a sudden blinding rush, and Piper’s sharp cry of pleasure only made it better. By the time he could open his eyes once more, it was to discover that his hands were still twined in her long and wavy hair.

He released her hair and leaned away from her, and a prick of guilt pierced his contentment: he’d left a bitemark at the juncture of her neck and shoulder.

“Maker’s breath,” he murmured. He winced and gingerly stroked the mark with his thumb. “I – forgive me, Piper, I…”

She laughed merrily. “Don’t be sorry. I’m not sorry, not one bit.” She ran her hands through his dishevelled hair, and Cullen sheepishly admired her cocky little smile before she leaned in to kiss him.

Despite her playful mood, her kiss was sweet and soft, and he smile was just as soft when she pulled away. “Did you like my story?” she asked.

A shiver of residual pleasure ran down his spine at the memory of her carnal words, and he could feel his cheeks warming yet again. “I did,” he murmured. “I love all of your stories, Piper.”

Her smile widened. She kissed him once more, and Cullen happily savoured her lips. Piper’s stories weren’t always serious or grounded; they ranged from suspenseful to irreverent, breathtakingly adventurous to absurd, and Cullen loved the spirited retellings of her imagination come to life. But the stories he loved most were the ones that were the most mundane. In these stories of her life, Piper was giving him little veiled pieces of her long-guarded heart.

In telling him those stories, Piper was trusting him. And for that reason alone, Cullen would cherish every story she ever told.

(Check out the second sketch at the end of the chapter on AO3!)

#cullen rutherford #cullen smut #where the winds of fortune take me #pirate au #cullen/lavellan #cullavellan #cullen x lavellan #piperford #pikapeppa writes #schoute draws #pikascout #fenhawke #fenris/hawke #fenris x hawke #fenris/f!hawke #fenris x f!hawke #fenris/femhawke #fenris x femhawke #fenrynne

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kita-lavellan · 5 years ago

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Beyond The Veil Discord OC-Asks

We have an OC-Question-Time channel on our Beyond The Veil Discord, and I keep forgetting to Copy/Paste my answers from there to here, so I’m about to do a single large post! To those of you still waiting on answers from my Ask Box, I’ll get to them I promise ^_^

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Q. Why might someone dislike them? For kita -- From @rivainisomniari A. She's stubborn. She knows she's stubborn, but Kita doesn't often realise when she's crossing the line from stubborn to just being bull-headed. Nel, her sister, is often the one to call her on this behavior and force her to back down.

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Q. What Hogwarts House would they be in? -- From @rivainisomniari A. Kita would be a Ravenclaw

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Q. When bored, how do they pass time? For Kita -- From @rivainisomniari A. Running. Kita loves running. As a child she would spend hours running through the forests and wilds with Nel. She misses it while at Haven, but once they reach Skyhold she often runs around the battlements, people getting out of her way with the assumption she is rushing to speak to an advisor.

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Q. When publishing a book it is wise to make comparisons with well known published works, to help a publisher see your understanding of the market, and also to help them decide on the best way to market your manuscript. So, that thought in mind, whom can you compare (from other popular media) your OCs too? -- From @mrstethras A. Oh nice question!! Kita is a cross between Elsa from Frozen, Loki (Marvel) and someone I'd LIKE to be :D ... Ghilana Mahariel, my Warden, is a bit of a blend with Natasha Romanova (Black Widow from Marvel), and Rupunzel from Disney's Tangled... Malia Hawke is a Self Insert, but with a dash of Killian Jones from Once Upon A Time for some sassy Hawke-Sarcasm

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Q. What do they value most in others? -- From @noire-pandora A. Honesty! Kita would rather you outright tell her you don't want to speak about something than LIE about it.

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Q. Who is your inquisitor's best friend in the Inquisition? -- From @rivainisomniari A. Kita's favourite people are Dorian, Leliana and Varric. Dorian wormed his way into her heart very quickly by being so protective of her during the Redcliff mission. She found it amusing, but also sweet and endearing, and the whole mission was a fast-bonding experience for the pair. Watching Leliana be willing to die for her to, washed away the wariness and caution Kita had carried for the inquisition up until that point, but especially for Leli when the woman was so clear in telling her she would do it again, once they're back in their proper time. Varric was the first person, after her sister, to ask how SHE was, which made a soft spot for him, and honestly, who can't like Varric eventually?

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Q. Is there any situation in which they would make a deal with a demon? -- From @noire-pandora A. Tough one! Kita has always been very connected to the Fade and the spirits within! She would probably barter and/or bargain with a spirit, because she is familiar with in her interactions with them, demons are still spirits but corrupted, so she would probably either avoid them or try to help them, especially after she learns more about spirits and the Fade from Solas throughout the Inquisition timeline.

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Q. Name one big flaw for your ocs? -- From @mrstethras A. Kita is slow to trust others, especially humans. She is aware that she distrusts people outside of her clan, but Kita doesn’t see it as a flaw, simply being cautious. Sometimes overly cautious, but she tries to balance her distrust with logic where she can. Ghilana's automatic response to someone showing any interest in her is to be abrasive, abrupt, and rude. She doesn't give people the benefit of the doubt, or chances, if they want her companionship they need to work at it and/or earn it. She comes across as a cold-hearted bitch, but if you persevere and crack that outershell she's a marshmallow. Malia's flaw is thinking she could have stopped or prevented anything and everything that goes wrong around her. Usually something Lydia has done, that she feels she could have predicted and avoided.

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Q. Do they have any family? -- From @rivainisomniari A. Kita has her sister, Nel (@mrstethras‘ Character) and their grandmother, Deshana, other than that, no. their father died when they were young, and their mother died during the War Table mission/attack on wycomb. Ghilana doesn't have any family that she knows of. Her father was killed by humans and city elves, and her mother wandered into the forest never to return when she was a baby. Ashalle raised her, and she considers the woman family, but she's not blood family. Malia has her older sister, @mrstethras‘ Hawke, Lydia. There's also her brother Carver and her sister Bethany, both of whom survive the trip to Kirkwall.

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Q. Are they close to their family? -- From @randomfallout4posts A. Kita is VERY close to Nel. She was fairly close to Deshana, but felt like she had to keep some of her magical talents hidden from the woman, because they weren't strictly "normal". Once she was able to be more free with herself with the Inquisition, and with Solas and Nel in particular away from the Clan, she began to feel less close to her grandmother and more judged for the ease with which she communed with spirits. Ghilana is not particularly close with her family. She struggles with the idea that Ashalle is not her "real" mother, and feels guilty for thinking like that. Tamlen was the closest thing she had to a 'real' family in her mind, and she had to abandon him, it took her a long time to begin to trust Briar and Alistair and instantly latched onto the first elf she saw with tattoo's (Zevran). He becomes her family, and as soon as the Darkspawn Threat is under control, she follows him to Antiva to kick his ass for being gone for so long. Malia... *sigh* She is SUPER close with Lydia, and despite being the younger of the two, she feels responsible for the other girl, especially since Lydia struggles with their father's death the most. Having no one older to share her magical talents with was difficult too and so Malia did her best to support and back up Lydia as much as she could. She struggled to connect with Carver, and they disagree on a lot of things, but they love each other despite it and they bond particularly closely during the battle of Ostagar, helping each other survive what was otherwise a slaughter of epic proportions. Malia adores Bethany, and coddles the younger girl, giving her anything and everything she can. She picked up pick-pocketing to buy Bethany birthday presents, and it's how she fond her way to learning a rogue's skill set. Malia does not get on with her mother, and often goes out of her way to annoy the woman so that Leandra will aim her vitriol at Malia instead of Lydia.

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Q. Where's their favourite place to be kissed? -- From @mrstethras A. Kita loves the tips of her ears being nibbled on, and the junction where neck becomes shoulder. Ghilana loves the back of her neck being kissed, especially once her hair grows out and Zev has to push it out of the way to reach it. Also kisses trailing down her spine. Malia ends up a shivering wreck if her hips and thighs get kissed, but also the palm of her hand while her eyes are locked with her lovers.

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Q. Your OC’s favourite pastimes when they're not gallivanting, murdering or hunting Dread Wolves? -- From @mrstethras A. For Kita; Running, Reading, and/or singing. Post Trespasser she's learning how to control using a god damned foci, and pretending to be dead, but that's an essay for another time Ghilana's favourite pastime used to be huntng... until she had to spend the whole blight hunting for their party since no one else knew how. How her favourite pastime is annoying Brair, and sitting quietly/stargazing, while Zev braids and/or plays with her hair. Malia's favourite pastime used to be pick pocketing the Templars and Chantry Sisters and redistributing the wealth amongst the citizens of Lothering. Once they reached Kirkwall, she enjoyed hanging out with her friends, and helping them with what they were doing, when she had time. Keeping the patients at Anders clinic entertained until he could see them. Helping Merrill go shopping. Helping Fenris rearrange the furniture in the mansion etc.

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Q. Name one regret of your OC’s? -- From @mrstethras A. Kita: Not going to Wycome herself and keeping her mother safe. Also, for not doing/saying/being enough so that Solas could feel he could trust her. Ghilana: Not insisting that she search for Tamlen. Ghilana regrets letting Duncan talk her into leaving with him immediately. Malia has lots of regrets, but the biggest one is that she didn't push Anders for more answers, when she knew the ingredients he'd collected were intrinsic components for an explosive.

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Q. Are they tall or short or somewhere in between? -- From @randomfallout4posts and @silvanils A. For a modern Elf, Kita is Tall. She's on the upper end of the height range for MALE elves at 5'8.... having said that, it's one of the first things that draws her attention about Solas, he's one of the only elves she's ever met taller than her, and he's taller than her by a fair margin. // Kita is tall for a modern elf. Tall for a MALE modern elf. Ghilana is small, around 5'1 and slight. She can, almost literally, hide behind a tree. It helps with her stealth abilities, and her speed, but it's why she focused mainly on a bow to keep a distance from stronger opponents. Zev fixes that, telling her she needs to know how to defend herself, and teacher her to dual weild daggers. // Ghilana is average for a female modern elf, but she comes across as looking smaller because she's slight as well. Malia is average, around 5'6/7. A little taller than her older sister, but not by much. // Malia is average for a human female.

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Q. Has Varric given them a nickname? If yes what is it and how did they get it? -- From @this-basic-mage A. Varric HAS given Kita a Nickname ^_^ It's Satina! She's a night owl, and so often wanders Skyhold late. Plus her whole colour's/aesthetics are blues and silvers.... Satina is, also, canonically the name of Thedas' moon. Malia finds it hilarious the Varric calls her sister simply "Hawke" and it annoys Lydia no end when he starts giving Malia the nickname "Copper". She's considered a bit of a "bad penny" by many, especially whenshe spends a lot of her time in Darktown, and is known to be a prolific pickpocket, but Varric also chose the name because of the burnished copper undertones to her otherwise dark brown hair.

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Q. Pick any god from greek/norse pantheons for your o.c to "be" -- From @rivainisomniari A. I'm not sure I know enough about mythology off the top of my head to say for most of them. Kita has some Loki in her, with her playfulness and love of wolves (even before the whole Fen'Harel reveal, she's always admired the Emerald Knights) Ghilana would be Athena, goddess of the hunt. Owls for nightime and stargazing, and the stealth aspects of her character etc. Not sure who Malia would be. Is there a mythological god or goddess of chaos and disaster OTHER than Loki?

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Q. Since the game has them: A tarot card for your o.cs. -- From @rivainisomniari A. After some research, I think Kita would be the High Priestess, meaning Intuitive, unconscious inner voice. Ghilana would be the Hierophant Reversed, meaning Rebellion, subversivness and new approaches. Malia would be the Tower, meaning sudden upheaval, broken pride, and disaster. Research Source: https://labyrinthos.co/blogs/tarot-card-meanings-list

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Q. What is it that drew y'all's OC’s to their LIs? -- From @bratwurstprophecy A. Tough one because it was me drawn to Solas before Kita was. I think it was the way Solas almost immediately told Cassandra that Kita couldn't have opened the breach. She read it as an elf defending an elf, a mage defending a mage, and it made her respect him very quickly. His opinions on the Dalish were painful but didn't surprise her. At the Keeper's first she's been to the meetings of the clans and knew how unwelcoming some of the other clans were towards outsiders, but it made her want to show him not all Dalish were like that... then she began talking magic and the fade and spirits with him, and a lot of his opinions on those aligned with what she'd always felt but had been told was wrong, and that was it, she was basically a goner. Ghilana was drawn to Zev, despite the fact he tried to kill her, because he was the first elf she'd seen since leaving her clan, and she figured he might be useful, help her hunt for the party (Ahahahhahaha). His warmth and easy going attitude though is what endeared him to her, he easily let her abrasiveness roll off him, and that was something she'd encountered only rarely and valued highly. Malia saw a lot of her sisters in Anders, a mage run ragged hiding from the Chantry, but still a kind soul wanting to help. She wanted to help him, to find a way to separate him from Justice so neither of them became corrupted in spite of their mutual good intentions. She can often seen the glimpses of the man he was before he merged with Justice, and while she loves him as he is, she wishes she could see more of the lighthearted and playful man he was before because it's those glimpses of gentle care and humor that draw her in like a moth to a flame.

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Q. What's your OC's favorite food? -- From @randomfallout4posts A. For Kita Lavellan, an Elfroot based stew her mother used to make, and Lemon flavored frilly cakes from Val Royeux For Malia Hawke , she never thought she's miss it, but a simple ferelden vegetable pie brings back happier memories of family meals with her siblings and both her parents in their cosy kitchen in Lothering. Ghilana Mahariel used to love roasted rabbit, but she hunted and cooked so many of them during the 5th blight she now can't stomach the sight of them. She loves exploring antivan spices, and the different flavors they can make when being mixed together in different combinations, and on different meats, so although it's not a "food", Antivan Spices would be her answer.

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Q. CAFFEINE. I must know what your ocs first reaction to coffee was. For inquisitors, their first taste was likely when Bull offers it in the Storm Coast, unless they came from noble roots and got lucky. -- From @lacrymosa-of-lavellan A. Kita firmly believes that coffee is a creation of the gods. Perhaps Ghilan'nain. It finally means she can stay awake long enough to get through the stacks of paperwork that Josephine keeps leaving on her desk, and still have enough energy to go and fall asleep read a book on Solas' couch. Ghilana doesn't drink it, unless Zevran serves it up with a metric tonne of sugar, and at least half the cup being made up of milk. Malia Hawke takes coffee as part of her regular morning ritual, but only if she makes it herself. Too many times has she picked up her sister, Lydia’s, coffee, only to splutter on the strong taste of whiskey or rum that's been added to it.

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Q. If you could use a song (or entire album if you like) to sum up one of your OCs in terms of personality and whatnot, or even just similar vibes, what would it be? -- From @bratwurstprophecy A. Kita Lavellan would get the Frozen 2 Soundtrack, but specifically "Into The Unknown" or "Show Yourself"

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Q. The most important oc / otp question: Who shares their thinmints and who tells the other to go heck off? -- From @lacrymosa-of-lavellan A. Kita would share, and Solas would not. We know he has a sweet tooth! Between Malia and Anders, I think both of them would share. They both know what it's like to go without, and how a little treat can bring someone's mood up. As for Ghilana, Zev would spoil her with all sorts of exotic foods and sweet treats, and Ghilana would not share them (even if he asked) ;-)

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Q. If your oc was in a modern time (or if they're brave as heck in da times) do they have any (non-vallaslin) tats or piercings, and if so, where? -- From @lacrymosa-of-lavellan A. Kita would not have a tattoo. Apart from the fact her mother really doesn't like them, Pre-Crestwood her Vallaslin are important and meaningful and she wouldn't want to take away from their importance by getting just 'another tattoo'. Post-Crestwood, when she knows that the Vallaslin were slave markings, she wouldn't want to be permanently marked in that way again. Ghilana does have other tattoo's besides her Vallaslin, all of which were done by Zevran. He has given her a vine that wraps around her ankle and curls up her leg with little symbols hanging from it, like charms, each charm marking an important event in their life together. Zev has also tattooed matching bands on their ring fingers, instead of wearing rings. Ghilana also has one ear pierced, to wear the earring Zev gave her during the 5th blight. It's the only piece of jewellery she regularly wears. Malia Hawke does not have any tattoo's or piercings. Her philosophy is that she does through enough pain without subjecting herself to more of it willingly.

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Q. Wood smoke or ocean breeze? -- From @lacrymosa-of-lavellan A. Kita hates the smell of the ocean. She got seasick on her way from the Freemarches to Ferelden, and the salt air always makes her feel a little queasy now. Woodsmoke on the other hand is food, and warmth and comfort and she misses the perfume of crackling pinewood. Ghilana has always loved woodsmoke smell, but when she travels with Zev and on her Grey Warden duties, she learns to love the smell of the ocean. Malia Hawke can take or leave woodsmoke. It's not terrible but after fleeing Lothering with the village burning behind her it has some difficult memories attached to the scent. Living in Kirkwall though, the fresh sea air waking her every morning was something she grew to love.

#Dragon Age #Dragon Age Origins #Dragon Age 2 #Dragon Age Inquisition #Dragon Age OC Asks #Beyond The Veil #Beyond The Veil Discord Server #Beyond The Veil OC Question Time #OC Question Time #OC Asks

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fanonorcanon · 5 years ago

Text

Cullen & F!Trevelyan

“We move on Adamant in a few days time,” Cullen said as he moved pieces on the map at the war table.

Josephine and Leliana left as they chattered away about the trip they’d have to make to the winter palace in the coming months.

Adelaide looked up from the map and saw Cullen pinching the bridge of his nose. “Headache?” She asked.

“Yes. I can't seem to get rid of it.”

“Let me,” Adelaide said, reaching her hands out to him.

Cullen stepped closer and bowed his head.

Adelaide massaged her fingers over his temples and scalp, pouring healing magic into her hands.

Once the tension seeped out of his body and his brow smoothed once more Adelaide began to pull away. Cullen raised a hand as if to call her back to him. They stood facing each other, close enough to share breath. Cullen leaned in slowly, enough so that she could pull away. He rested his forehead against hers then nuzzled their noses together.

“I'm very fond of you, Adelaide,” he whispered so soft she had to strain to hear him.

“I believe I’m growing fond of you too, Commander,” she said just as softly.

“Could you ever come to care for, to love me? I've left my templar days along with the vows behind me, but I would understand if-”

“Cullen,” Adelaide said a little exasperated.

“I'm sorry for my forwardness,” he said as he smiled. Cullen took hold of her hand and kissed her knuckles. “You don't have to tell me now. Take as long as you need. But before whatever may happen at Adamant, I wanted to make my intentions clear, my lady. I don't want to have any regrets.” Cullen nodded curtly and walked away leaving Adelaide speechless.

...

“Oh, nice scarf. Matches your eyes.”

Addie nodded.

“Where’d you get it? Some lovesick person set on wooing you?”

“Dorian,” Adelaide hissed.

“Hm? What's wrong, you look serious. Did we lose someone?”

“Cullen. He confessed to me.”

“Kaffas! Don't scare me like that, Addie. It's about time he did, too. Now did he give you that before or after he stuck his tongue in your mouth?”

“It wasn't like that! He was really sweet. Kinder than I've ever known. Better than I deserve if I'm being honest.”

“Don't be ridiculous.”

“Wait, you said you knew?”

“Adelaide. Dear, guileless child that you are. The entire Inquisition knows that he's mad for you. How could you not?”

“Even Blackwall?” Adelaide gaped.

“All of us in the Inner Circle have been debating on whether or not to take bets. But Cassandra's insisted that it's in poor taste.”

“You're joking.”

“Why do you think everyone's been dropping hints about you two?”

“I thought they were just trying to be funny. Like when children tease each other about kissing in trees.”

“You're adorable, my dear; but oblivious. I suppose that's why we're all fond of you. Now for fucksakes, go talk to the man. He's been frowning at me since you walked over here.”

“But what do I say?”

“Do you really not know?”

Adelaide shrugged.

“There wasn't a lot of room for casual romantic dalliances during my time at the Circle, Dorian.”

“Oh Maker, Addie. You poor thing.” Dorian pulled her into a hug and kissed her forehead.

“Still older than you,” Adelaide joked.

“Shut it, you,” Dorian said as he smiled warmly.

“Is there any one around that you’re interested in?” Addie asked shyly.

“Perhaps,” Dorian said mysteriously. Unintentional though it was, his eyes were drawn to Iron Bull. He was a dozen or so paces behind Adelaide, dunking his head in a bucket of water after sparring with several recruits at once.

“Keep your secrets, then.”

“I shall.”

...

Soon they left for Adamant. Cullen rode at the front with Cassandra both of them insisted that Adelaide ride in the middle to shield her from a brute assault.

“I wonder if this stupid anchor would work if it wasn't attached to me,” Adelaide huffed.

“What, if you were to just chop off your arm and give it to someone else?” Dorian chuckled, twirling his mustache.

“Yes. Exactly,” she replied.

“Your humor is very grim these days, Adelaide. Let no one say that love changes a person for the better,” Dorian said.

“It's not love,” she whispered to herself. “Not yet.”

“Does he know that?” Dorian asked.

“I'm not sure. He still hasn't kissed me. We've only taken walks and held hands and even then he asked permission.”

“Well isn't that sickeningly sweet,” Dorian sighed and frowned. “Have you tried making bedroom eyes at him?”

“I don't even know what that is,” she groused.

Dorian demonstrated, faced her, tilting his head down and looking through his lashes with a smile that would seem smug on anyone else.

“I can't do that. No way. My face muscles don't work like that.”

“Nonsense. You can try on me,” Dorian said enthusiastically.

“You're not going to let this go are you?”

“Not likely, no.”

...

“Try again, and try not looking constipated this time,” Dorian sighed. “The key is to think of them naked, think of what you want to do with them naked. Are you even thinking of Cullen?”

“Was I supposed to?”

“No wonder we haven't gotten anywhere!” Dorian cried and threw up his hands.

Adelaide tried again. Her thoughts drifted to Cullen. Cullen in the sparring ring, shirtless, knocking men into the dirt. Her face went pink and she looked up at Dorian, worried that he could hear her thoughts for how vivid they were in her mind.

“See? I knew you could do it. Oh, just in time. Cullen saw you! Yes, progress. This is fantastic. I'll be going now.” Dorian waved goodbye.

“Inquisitor? Have you eaten yet?” Cullen asked.

Adelaide looked to where she'd left her full plate, then around to see if see if she was mistaken. Dorian waved from across the camp, cheeks stuffed with a bread roll from her plate.

“No, I think someone ran off with my plate by mistake,” she said.

“I was hoping we could dine together,” Cullen said.

“I think I'd like that,” Addie smiled.

“I hope I wasn't interrupting,” Cullen started cautiously. “I know you're close with Dorian. If you prefer his company to mine, I will not pursue your affections any further.” Cullen passes Addie a plate but didn't look at her, afraid he'd lose his nerve.

“Why would you think I'm interested in Dorian romantically?”

“Forgive my glibness Inquisitor, but the way you've been looking at him throughout the day, I thought that-”

“No, it's not like that. At all. If I may be honest?”

“Of course,” Cullen faced her fully and set his plate in his lap.

“He was trying to teach me to be more enticing,” she admitted.

“I'm not sure your admirers would be able to handle that, Inquisitor,” Cullen replied sheepishly.

“My admirers, or just you?”

“Both, most likely,” Cullen rubbed at the back of his neck.

“If I was, would you kiss me?”

“If that is what my lady wishes for, perhaps I could indulge her.”

“Perhaps?”

“We should eat before the food gets cold,” he said, trying to deter her.

“Do you not want to? I know there are some who only long for companionship, not physicality. Is that what you're seeking, Commander?”

“I do! Want to, I mean. But you deserve to be courted, treasured. I can do no less.”

“Is that what we’re doing? Courting?”

“If my lady permits, yes,” Cullen blushed and hurried to put food in his mouth to avoid saying something cheeky.

Adelaide smiled gently and began to eat as well.

…

“What in the void is she doing, Cassandra?” Cullen shouted as he watched Adelaide fade step into the thick of the battle.

“Just watch,” she chuckled even as she knocked a demon over the head with her shield.

Adelaide swung her spirit sword and Blade of Tidarion in tandem, cutting down all the demons who surrounded her in several quick strokes. Once the courtyard was clear, Cullen called everyone over to strategize. He gave orders but his eyes kept drifting towards Adelaide. Once dismissed the soldiers dispersed. Adelaide lingered.

“Please be safe, Adelaide,” Cullen whispered.

She nodded.

“You too, Commander,” Addie smiled.

Cullen watched helplessly as the battlement the Inquisitor and her companions were on began to collapse.

“No!” Cullen shouted.

He ran towards the pile of rubble, but Adelaide was nowhere to be found. Cullen clenched his fists and headed towards the courtyard where the remaining Wardens had gathered. His soldiers watched them cautiously, waiting for orders.

“Commander, your orders?” Rylen asked.

“I-I don't know,” Cullen murmured.

Only a few moments later a rift opened. Cullen watched as Dorian, Cassandra and Cole tumbled out followed shortly by Hawke.

“The Inquisitor! Where is she?” Cullen shouted.

“She was behind us, I don't know what happened,” Cassandra replied.

The air hung heavy with a nervous type of energy. Adelaide wasn't gone. She couldn't be. Cullen refused to believe that.

After what seemed like an age, Adelaide stepped out of the rift. She seemed pale. Unwell. Dark circles lined her eyes.

“Inquisitor? Your orders?” Cullen asked.

“Those who remain are welcome to join the fight against Corypheus. They can consider it a step towards atonement for the wrongdoings of their fellow Wardens,” Adelaide shouted, her voice carrying throughout the fortress. “Commander, walk with me,” she said quietly. Cullen saw that her companions seemed very worried for the Inquisitor, though he nodded and followed Adelaide silently. They would do well to not show weakness now.

Adelaide found an empty room and stepped inside. Cullen closed the door behind them. She sunk to the ground trembling. “A healer, Cullen,” she pleaded.

“Commander!” Cassandra said from outside the door.

Cullen hesitated before he opened the door. Cassandra pushed past him, a senior healer in tow. Everyone hurried to get the Inquisitor comfortable. Cullen removed his fur mantle and laid it beneath her head. Adelaide reached for him and held his hand tightly.

“Please, stay,” she panted.

Cullen nodded.

“I need to get her armor off. You said it was her left side, correct?” The healer asked Cassandra.

“Yes,” Cassandra replied and began stripping Adelaide's armor off. Starting with the lightweight plates designed carefully by Dagna, then the leathers the Inquisitor had crafted herself. Cullen averted his eyes before they removed the thin tunic until only her breast band remained. Adelaide squeezed his hand as they peeled the cloth stuck to her side, sticky with blood. The healer worked quietly, rinsing the wounds with alcohol, then healing it with magic. Cullen turned to ask Adelaide how she was feeling but saw that she had faded into unconsciousness. He gasped when he saw the extent of the damage. Aside from a myriad of old scars covering most of her torso and arms, her left side bore deep claw marks that had once been closed with burns. They’d come open from movement but much of the bleeding had been stopped.

“Cassandra, what in Andraste’s name happened?” Cullen hissed.

“A fear demon,” Cassandra replied simply.

“Cassandra, what happened?” Cullen asked sharply.

“She stepped in front of an attack meant for me. I've told her time and again that I'm sturdier than I look, but she chose to ignore that,” Cassandra said angrily.

“And the scars? I've seen scars like that before. In Kirkwall,” Cullen said as he frowned. “So many of them. That Circle she was in… she's never said much about it,” he murmured.

“She's guarded and very stubborn. Much like yourself,” Cassandra smirked at Cullen.

“I've done as much as I can. She needs to rest. You can move her to a tent if you need to but be careful with her,” the healer said as she spread a poultice over the freshly healed skin then went about wrapping it with fresh bandages.

Cassandra and Cullen gave their thanks and bid the healer farewell.

“I don't know what we'd do if we lost her. So much hinges on her survival. She barely has time to breathe. Please treat her as she deserves,” Cassandra whispered.

“I'll do my best,” Cullen replied.

“I suppose that will have to do,” Cassandra sighed.

“What were the fresh burns from?”

“She told Dorian to cauterize the wounds to staunch the bleeding and fend off infection, but refused to show him the damage,” Cassandra said.

“He did an amazing job,” Cullen said quietly in awe.

“He's good at what he does,” Cassandra agreed. “I'll get bedrolls for you both, you should rest too.”

Cullen nodded.

Well into the night Cullen stayed awake, watching for signs of discomfort from Adelaide. He brushed her hair away from her face. It’d gotten long enough to cover the rest of her head. He smiled to himself.

Adelaide suddenly sat up, the dagger from her boot in her hand. She panted, pressing the blade against Cullen’s neck. Her eyes were unfocused and teeth bared.

“Cullen?” She asked, pulling the dagger away from him. “I’m so sorry. Are we still at Adamant?” Adelaide hung her head and slipped her dagger back into her boot.

“Yes. A nightmare?”

She nodded, looking down and seeing her state of undress. “Shit,” she swore quietly, looking to cover herself with a nearby blanket.

“Apologies. I didn't wish to disturb your bandages,” Cullen said and averted his gaze.

“Nothing to be done about it now,” she shrugged. “Guess you saw all this mess.” Adelaide gestured to her body.

“Mess?”

“The scars. I'm sorry. It seems as if I was deceiving you. I-I was worried you'd lose interest. Women should be soft my mother has said,” she laughed humorlessly.

“Nothing could make me lose interest, Adelaide. You've been through a lot today. Please take this time to rest,” Cullen said as he took her hand and squeezed it. “You have my affections as long as you want them, that will not change. I'm plenty scarred myself and it hasn't seemed to change your opinion of me.”

“On the contrary. They make you look very dashing,” Adelaide admitted shyly.

Cullen blushed and coughed, trying to regain his composure. "Seeing yours reminds me of your strength."

"Thank you," she murmured, positively stunned.

…

The Winter Palace was a nest of vipers at the best of times, with talk of an uprising it was much worse. Adelaide was able to charm the nobles through good natured pressure or strict advisement from Leliana and Josephine. Cullen himself was at a loss. Though he'd been dogged by admirers all evening he still felt out of place. Surely he was more of a curiosity or would be seen as a conquest to the social climbers. Not for the first time he thought back fondly to quiet walks with Adelaide on the battlements of Skyhold and their chess games in the gardens. He very much wanted to kiss her, but worried his timing was always ill chosen. She'd confessed that she'd never had a relationship and he didn't want to disappoint her. He worried about it far too much by Cassandra's opinion. Cullen lost himself in his thoughts until he felt someone jab him in the ribs with an elbow.

“She's sneaking off. You promised her a dance, go,” Cassandra smirked.

“Thank you,” he said earnestly.

Cullen found her on a lone bench in the courtyard away from the crowd. “Inquisitor, how are you feeling?”

“Relieved more than anything. I'll be glad if I never have to do that again.”

“I couldn't agree more,” he chuckled.

“Now, how did you escape your vast throng of admirers, Commander?”

“I doubt they were as vast as it seemed.”

“Can't you let me be a little jealous?” Adelaide teased.

“Maker's breath, I hadn't thought-”

She smirked.

“May I hold your hand?”

“You needn't ask, Cullen,” she chuckled.

“Yours is the only attention I want,” he murmured.

“Truly?” she leaned into him.

“It's all I want.” He lost himself in her eyes.

She leaned in closer and closed her eyes, lips slightly pursed and parted.

He turned his gaze away and cleared his throat. “Can you hear the music from here?”

“Oh, um, yes. I can.”

“I believe I promised you a dance?”

“Hm, as I recall you turned me down.”

“And as I recall, I amended such a grievous error as soon as I could.”

“So you did.” She smiled at him fondly.

#headcanon that Cullen's gaydar is busted to the point that he thinks the default is bi unless otherwise confirmed #cullen rutherford #female trevelyan #dai #dragon age inquisition #dragon age #fanon writes fic

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writinginstardust · 6 years ago

Text

Fashion Emergency

Pairing: Dorian Havilliard x reader

Request: anonymous asked “ I don't know if your requests are open or not but I haven't seen anything Dorian on Tumblr so here I am!Imagine the reader being Dorian's girlfriend and him being so smitten and loving her so much and him always helping her choose dresses or read to her “

Warnings: none

A/N: I mean I hope this is what you wanted? like I kinda got waaaay carried away in my outlining for this and this is currently just part 1 of 2 but you like don’t necessarily need to read both, they stand alone pretty okay. Set pre-Throne of Glass

Word Count: 1854

“Help, fashion emergency!” The young woman waiting in the hall grabbed Dorian’s hand and dragged him into the hallway as soon as the door opened. His fond laugh echoed on the old stone walls of the castle as hand in hand they ran back to (Y/N)’s room a few halls away. The speed a necessity if the girl didn't want half the castle to see her in nothing but a slip and silk robe.

Fortunately for the two, there weren't many people in the halls between their rooms so she was spared the embarrassment of being seen in such a state, though the shocked and confused look on Chaol's face as they raced past was an unexpected benefit of the situation.

She leaned against the door once they'd finally stumbled over the threshold, breathing heavily from the exertion. A giggle rose in her throat at the ridiculousness of what they'd just done and as the image of Chaol's face took form in her mind again (Y/N) couldn't stop that joyful sound from escaping, followed quickly by another...and another...and another, her laughs becoming almost uncontrollable.

Dorian leaned against the wall beside her, this beautiful miracle he'd somehow managed to claim the heart of, and just watched as pure, unadulterated joy took over her expression. Watched with a smile filled with love as laughter shook her body, small laughs escaping his own lips. Completely lost in awe as he stared at her, it took a minute for (Y/N) to snap Dorian back to reality, dragging him further into her suite and to her wardrobe. The mess surrounding it caused Dorian to let out a brief chuckle, clothes were everywhere, on the floor, thrown across the bed, hung from doors and curtain rails, there was hardly an inch of space not covered in fine fabric.

“When you said you had a ‘fashion emergency’, you weren't kidding were you?”

“No, I wasn't,” she sighed, looking at the piles of clothes, “I seriously need your help, you're really good at this stuff and I'm Running out of hope that I'll find anything good enough to wear tonight.”

“(Y/N), I know for a fact that you've got stacks of beautiful gowns and you'll be perfect in any of them.”

“But I've looked through this wardrobe for over an hour now and there's...nothing. Nothing good enough at least. It's your mother's birthday celebration, the Queen's birthday celebration, I can't just wear anything.” She paused, surveying all the clothes she'd discarded earlier. “Gods, I've tried on so many dresses and none of them feel right, none of them feel worthy of this, of you. And...and I can't mess this up, this is important, it all needs to be perfect. I mean this is the first time they're all going to see us together and they're going to analyse and judge everything and none of this is good enough, I'm not good enough and... Gods I can't...I can't do this…”

Her rambling was cut off with a sharp intake of breath, she was really starting to panic about this, could feel tears forming in her eyes. She loved Dorian, would do anything for him, but she was really starting to doubt her ability to get through tonight.

As Dorian had listened and noted the rising hysteria in his love's voice, he'd moved to wrap the girl in his arms and was now gently stroking a hand up and down her spine, holding her tight, and willing the embrace to calm her nerves.

“Breathe, (Y/N), just breathe. Don't stress about this. Everything will be okay, I promise, we'll find something for you to wear and you'll look beautiful, absolutely perfect, like you always do.” The low, tender sound of his voice slowly began to ease her panic and Dorian could feel her begin to relax in his arms, tears coming to a halt and breathing evening out. “And no more talk of not being good enough. Darling, you're more than I deserve, more than anyone deserves, not one person in that court can hold a candle to you. Now,” he pulled away and pressed a light kiss to her forehead, a smile stretching his lips as he noted the embarrassed one on her face, “let’s find you something to wear.”

For a few minutes, Dorian rifled through the wardrobe, humming to himself as he assessed and compared the many options. He thought she’d look amazing in all of them but had a surprise for her, one which he’d already asked a maid to bring by around now, all he had to do was pretend to search for a little longer. He pulled out a beautiful sparkling gown and turned to where (Y/N) was sitting, knees tucked up, at the end of her bed. He held up the gown, looking between it and the girl before him as if thinking about how it would look on before gesturing questioningly at the garment.

“While I do love that dress, it’s too wintry to wear in the spring.” She sighed and looked at it longingly, wishing the party could have been even just a month earlier. Dorian merely shrugged and returned the dress, resuming his fake search.

After another couple of minutes (Y/N) fell back on the bed with a groan. “It’s hopeless.”

But before she could complain further a knock came at the door and Dorian left to open it. When he returned it was baring an armful of intricately detailed fabric which made (Y/N) gasp in wonder when she caught sight of it. As it was hung on the wardrobe door, (Y/N) found herself climbing to her feet and walking towards it as if in a trance, expression full of awe. She reached out and traced her fingers along the embroidery of the full skirt, the delicate floral patterns, the soft flowing fabric, admiring the thought and love that had so clearly been poured into the making of the dress. She finally turned away from the dress and Dorian’s breath caught in his throat as he beheld the total adoration in her eyes, mirroring that which he knew was in his own.

“You...you had this made...for me?” He merely nodded with a soft smile as she threw herself into his arms, thanking him over and over with both words and quick, joyful, kisses all over his face. He laughed through it until finally managing to capture the lips of the elated girl in his arms.

“I take it you like the dress then?” He asked when they pulled apart.

“It’s perfect Dorian, absolutely perfect. Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome. Besides,” he smirked down at her, “I can’t turn up without the best-dressed girl in the room on my arm. It would be unseemly.”

“Good to know this was done for purely selfish reasons.” The teasing was clear in her voice and Dorian didn’t bother to reply, merely dropped a quick kiss on her forehead and pulled her over to the bed. Once settled, (Y/N) curled into his side, Dorian reached over to grab a book off the nightstand, expecting some adventure story but was surprised to find something very different.

“Romance novels? Have my reading habits finally started rubbing off on you?” he teased.

“Tragically yes, and rather irritatingly I’ve been enjoying it.”

“Of course you have! You need to learn to trust my reading tastes as much as you trust my fashion sense.”

“I know that now.” She rolled her eyes at him. “So, have you read this one yet?” He looked at the cover and shook his head. “Well we can read it together, if you’d like?”

“That, my dear, is an excellent idea.”

“Go on then, read to me Prince Charming.”

And so, he did. For the remainder of their free time before the ball Dorian read to her, the constant hum of his voice and the steady beat of his heart lulling her to sleep.

When (Y/N)’s soft snores met Dorian's ears he quietly set down the book and settled more comfortably onto the bed, eyes lingering on the dozing form beside him. Even in sleep, face squashed into the pillow and drooling ever so slightly, Dorian thought she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Just a couple of years ago the notion he might ever feel so strongly about another person would have seemed ridiculous, but here he was, so completely in love it almost terrified him.

Wrapping an arm over her waist, Dorian allowed himself to relax and rest a while before the evening festivities. He may have had other matters to attend to but nothing he considered important enough to actually bother doing, he'd much rather stay here with the girl he loved. So, following her example, he drifted off to sleep as well.

Far too soon they were both awoken again. One of (Y/N)’s maids knocked tentatively on the bedroom door and Dorian was instantly awake.

“Your Highness,” the maid executed a clumsy curtsey, taken off-guard by the Prince’s presence, “I’ve come to help Miss (Y/N) get ready…” she frowned at the girl still sleeping peacefully across the room, “if I can wake her up that is.” Dorian let out a low chuckle at that before walking back to the bed and gently shaking (Y/N) awake, the maid busying herself drawing a bath elsewhere.

(Y/N) did little more than groan in annoyance as Dorian attempted to wake her, too warm and drowsy to even think about moving.

“Wakey wakey sweetheart, you have to get up now.”

“I don’t want to, give me five more minutes...or 50…” She yawned and let her eyes drift shut again.

“I don’t think your maid is going to allow that.”

“What’s the point in dating a Prince if he won’t even get my maid to let me sleep?” She pouted almost childishly and damn him if that wasn’t the most adorable thing he’d ever witnessed.

“Well I could let you sleep but then you’d be late to the ball and I don’t thi-” he cut himself off as (Y/N)’s eyes flew open and she scrambled out of bed, pushing him towards the door to make him leave.

“Okay time to get out, go make yourself look decent and I’ll see you later.” They both laughed as she dragged him to the suite door where he paused and a mischievous smirk formed on his face.

“You know...I don’t have to go just yet. Maybe I could help you, give your lovely maid a rest. What’s first? A bath?” He winked at her and she shook her head at his joking words.

“I think we’ve got it covered, I’ll see you later.” Rising up on her toes, she kissed him sweetly, hands resting lightly on toned shoulders as she felt the ghost of his at her waist.

The door shut between them and Dorian couldn’t help the lovestruck smile as he wandered back to his own room to prepare for the ball.

#Dorian Havilliard #Dorian Havilliard x reader #Dorian Havilliard imagine #Dorian Havilliard x you #Throne of Glass fanfic #Throne of Glass imagine #tog fanfic #tog imagine #dorian x reader #dorian x you #dorian imagine #throne of glass #Dorian Havilliard fluff #Dorian fluff #reader insert #tog

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nilesdaughter · 6 years ago

Note

(Talesfromthefade) Drink me (a drabble about characters drinking, alone or with each other.) for DWC for whichever character strikes your fancy :)

For @dadrunkwriting.

[Also available on AO3.]

[Blank] Me Prompts

“Sweeter Than Honey”

“You look like you could use another glass,” Sarel said wryly as he approached Dorian, offering up a goblet that was nearly filled to the brim with wine.

“Ah, my hero,” Dorian replied, taking the new goblet in hand and taking a drink. “Though I do think I would have preferred if you had brought a whole bottle,” he added, feigning disappointment.

“Oh, I’m aware. But I suspect Josephine would have murdered me if she spotted me trying to smuggle an entire bottle of wine out of the ballroom.”

“Hmmm… You make a fair point. Still, I dare say that it’s needed after all the excitement from this evening.”

Sarel offered up a strained laugh and moved to lean against the balcony railing, staring out over the carefully manicured grounds of the Winter Palace. For a moment, it seemed as if the outside world were frozen, pristine and oblivious to the events that had occurred within the palace walls. After a few silent moments, he sighed and hung his head.

“I’d say excitement may be a bit of an understatement…” he admitted.

“…I’m aware,” Dorian mused quietly, turning to also lean against the railing. “And, erm, how are you doing, after all of that?”

“I think my mind hasn’t caught up to the rest of me quite yet,” Sarel replied. “How about you check back with me tomorrow?”

Dorian let out a faint snort. “You’re a terrible liar, you know.”

Sarel hummed once before falling silent.

Dorian sighed and passed the goblet over. “You probably need this more than I do.”

“You know I don’t really like wine, Dorian,” he reminded gently.

“This seems like the perfect opportunity to change that, then.”

Sarel rolled his eyes but did take the goblet in hand, lifting it to his lips and taking a small sip. As he handed it back to Dorian, he made a face with a soft, “Blech.”

Dorian chuckled a bit. “You really do not like wine, do you?”

“No, I don’t,” Sarel replied with equal amusement. “It’s too bitter.”

“You really think so?”

He nodded and fell silent for a moment before he decided to explain his reasoning. “In my Clan, one of our aravels is solely dedicated to maintaining bee hives. The travel is never easy on them, but we manage to keep the population relatively thriving, and we benefit greatly from the honey they produce.” He smiled softly, wistfully. “Nothing can ever compare to Dalish-brewed mead.”

“Ah, so you have a sweet tooth, then.”

“Guilty as charged.”

Dorian nodded. “And, as such, you’re simply particular about the sort of alcoholic beverages you enjoy.”

“Precisely.”

“Hmmm,” Dorian mused with another small nod. He think smiled faintly and nudged Sarel. “But do you truly mean it? That nothing compares to Dalish mead?” he added with a quirk of his brow, suggestion creeping into his tone.

Sarel tried to fight a smile from tugging on his lips. “Oh, I don’t know…” he started slowly. “There may be a certain Tevene that I’m starting to grow fond of…”

“Well, that sounds marvelously scandalous.”

“Now you’re just fishing for compliments.”

Dorian pretended to look horrified. “You dare accuse me of such needy behavior?”

Sarel snorted a little. “Oh, don’t deny that you can be needy sometimes,” he quipped, before leaning in towards to Dorian to give him a brief kiss. When he pulled away again, he smiled faintly and nodded back towards the Winter Palace. “Shall we return to our adoring public?”

“I suppose if we must,” he sighed and looped his free arm into one of Sarel’s, before leading the way back inside.

#4vrafangirl #da drunk writing circle #pavellan #dorian pavus #sarel lavellan #inquisitor lavellan #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #dadwc #Tia writes

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veridium · 6 years ago

Text

While the recovery process has been arduous, Inquisitor Trevelyan is ready to disembark and return to her primary responsibility of battle and conquest for the Inquisition’s side. One night stands between her and her departure, and one final wish of her love creates a disturbance in the short-lived respite she has enjoyed. It is back to reality, and perhaps not all of what helped her recover was meant to survive, after all.

The eve had finally arrived: tomorrow morning, the recovered Inquisitor would return to the front in Emprise du Lion to help finish what the Inquisition started. The Iron Bull and his Chargers had done well to maintain their holds and even put pressure on the quarry stronghold, but now, the game was going to be on again.

Her scar still looked sort of beastly, but it was dormant for the most part. The soreness in her side had largely subsided save for a weary ache when she overworked her abdomen in rehabilitation training. The surgeon warned that the blade had cut through some of the muscle, and would take time to rebuild its strength and durability. If she could manage, she would stretch out at the end of her days before going to sleep.

Theia stood in the Courtyard, observing the last bit of packing for their early morning departure. The lucid evening was giving way to opaque night, but the light fringe of blues on the horizon left them with some light to finish up under. Theia wore her rest clothes, a step up from a top made of bandage and pants that felt like a pelt. For all who witnessed her, she looked completely back to normal.

“Inquisitor,” Cassandra approached, “It seems that we are all set for the morning. The dinner will begin soon. I will not be there, however, as I wish to get some rest.”

Theia grinned and nodded back to her ally, who stood at her left side now. “Understandable. I have sent you all across this countryside defending my broken ass,” she teased.

“Hopefully, this time I will not have to bring you back in two pieces.”

Theia chuckled and waved her away playfully. “Don’t tempt me, Seeker, I have a penchant for trouble.”

Another woman approached, coming to stand on the Inquisitor’s right side. Varric called her Ruffles, Leliana called her Josie, but for the last two weeks, Theia had been fighting every urge to refer to her as the woman she was falling deeply in love with.

“Inquisitor, I see you are prepared for the morning’s events,” Josephine greeted, leaning her head forward and nodding at Seeker Cassandra with warmth.

Theia looked down and eyed the two pieces of parchment that had been in her hands, reporting stock levels of supplies, rations, and weapons. “Yes, at last, back to business. Something tells me the crew up there will be more than willing to let me return to my position at the front line.”

That made Cassandra smirk. “Lady Montilyet, Inquisitor, I will retire. We shall see each other in the morning, Your Worship.” Then, a withdraw back up the courtyard stairs. With her exit, Josephine inched towards Theia’s side a little closer.

For the past couple weeks, the Ladies Ambassador and Inquisitor scarcely spent private time apart from one another. Indeed, most nights Josephine spent in Theia’s room, and simply woke early enough to steal away into her own bedroom to prepare for the day. Those early morning goodbyes were evergreen in their bittersweetness, but the day would brighten up as they were able to work together, pushing for the end of the day when the night would take hold of the sky and they would take hold of each other. And while they had not yet crossed the threshold into sexual intimacy per se, the nights they spent together were soaked down to the bone with adoration, intimacy, and vulnerability. Hours of conversation, storytelling until the light breaths of sleep could be heard from the other’s chest, ravenous embraces in the temperamental firelight.

Josephine had quickly become Theia’s closest confidant of her emotions, and had gained access to many sides of the Inquisitor that had remained shut away from prying eyes and mouths. People began to take to heart the assumption that wherever Lady Trevelyan was, Lady Montilyet was not far away, and vice versa. Surprisingly, the question of just how many of the Inquisitor’s goings-on were that important to diplomacy was not brought up as much as it could have. Perhaps no one thought to dare either of the formidable women’s tempers with such a critique.

But, back to the conversation at hand.

“Who is all going with you this time?” Josephine asked, watching the men pack.

“Dorian and Cassandra only, well, and some troop reinforcement of course. We have Warden Blackwall and Bull awaiting us. I would just bring Cassandra, but I need Dorian to help with rehabilitation training and to be my back-up if I falter.” Theia sounded so professional, so authoritative, even as she admitted to her weaknesses. Her and Dorian had been doing their forest adventures as soon as she was able to reliably wield a staff without buckling over, and he had been helping her recover her dexterity when casting and using a staff as a bladed weapon. Some days were more arduous than others, and there were multiple nights where Theia would return with a limp or extra soreness. But, it made her stronger, and she knew she would have to be rough on herself in order to prepare for the lethalness of the Emprise du Lion’s grasp once more.

“I understand. I have half a heart to warn Dorian that if he lets anything happen to you, I will have all of his garments re-sown in that ghastly plaidweave.” Josephine’s irreverence towards Dorian was part impatience with his vanity, and also an ironic fondness. He was Theia’s close confidant, and he had been there when she needed him most. Though, there were times when he would run his mouth, and Josephine would feel like banging her head against her desk, wondering why Theia couldn’t pick better friends.

Theia laughed under her breath. “He would adore that, I’m sure. You know he insists that you secretly love him and are using me as only a coddled stepping stone on the way to your true paramore?”

“Oh, please.”

“Tell me once and tell me honestly, my love, I will forgive you--”

“Theia!”

The Inquisitor couldn’t help but let a jubilant laughter erupt from her chest as she folded her stock papers and slid them under her belt. “My love, the sooner you grow a patience for sarcasm, the better for your health.” Theia snuck a caressing hand on Josephine’s cheek, discrete and easily missed if you blinked. A small token of sweetness before turning towards the stairs.

Josephine sighed heavily and followed after her. “The sooner you have respect for my worries, the better for your health. Corypheus isn’t the only temper you should take caution with.”

“Oh, a threat, Lady Montilyet? In my sanctum of Andraste?”

“Andraste would understand the consequences of one’s trifling.”

“Well then, let me know what she would wish my punishment to be,” as soon as they had the cover of the stone stairs on the second level of the courtyard, Theia reached a desirous hand around Josephine’s waist and pulled her close, backing herself up against the stone walling and her Love up against her.

Josephine gasped like a true lady, aghast at the intention but aroused at the boldness. Her hands went up against Theia’s chest, feet trying to not trip. Their mouths came within an inch of one another, and Josephine couldn’t help but grin. Her eyes couldn’t evade the touch of sadness in them.

“She would say you did not have to go.”

Theia eyed her longingly, surprised even with her audacious move that the Ambassador would admit such a thing in the open air of the fortress.

“Josephine,” Theia comforted, a hand moving upwards and adjusting a fallen strand of Josephine’s curls. “I will be careful. I promise. You know me, I always come back from a fight.”

“Yes, but for how long? You came so close this time…”

“I was healed and recovered. Cassandra brought me back herself. I have so many allies around me at any given time. I wish you would have come out to watch me rehab train, you would feel so much better having seen me back on my two feet.”

“Training practice and the thick of battle are two different things, my Darling.”

Theia let air release from her lungs. Thoughtfully, she pursed her lips, her forehead leaning into Josephine’s. “I don’t know what you want from me. I must go. You are one of my advisors, you help make all of this possible. You act as if I want to leave you,” she swallowed with nervousness.

Josephine could see her emotions were muddying the waters for them in this moment. She had tested the air with her sentimentality and had seen just how stressful it could be. It made her stomach turn with anxiety. Could they sustain this? The leaving and going, with the emotions of lovers, and the diligent duty of allies?

“I am sorry. I know you have to do this. I have moments of shortsidedness.” Josephine curtailed her admonitions for now. Pulling away from Theia, but locking a hand with hers, she beckoned them to keep walking.

Theia grinned sorely. As they approached the second round of stairs, stairs she now walked without pain again, she thought of a way to lighten the mood. Maybe now she would ask.

“There is something you could do that would bring me great honor and happiness. It’s small, but, that only means less work on your part.”

“Hm? And what, exactly, is that?”

“At the banquet tonight, enter the hall with me, at my side.”

Josephine stopped in her tracks, and eyebrow raising as she looked her lover in the eyes. “You…you cannot be seriously suggesting that?”

Theia shook her head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Enter at your side…like a mistress of your house?” Josephine stepped back, a tone of temper in her voice.

Theia immediately felt the shift in mood, and trying to retain some semblance of control, she gripped onto Josephine’s enjoined hand and guided her energetically to a more sequestered corner of the upper courtyard, by the door to the Gardens.

When they arrived at their destination, Theia turned and faced her.

“Josephine, I did not mean it like that.”

Lady Montilyet’s eyes narrowed. “Then how? Is this really how you want this to be?”

“I am confused as to what you mean, but, if you’re referring to you being at my side and everyone respecting it as such, then, yes?”

“Gah!” Josephine turned around and paced with frustration. Theia was even more confused now. It was like oils slipping out of her hands and her trying feverishly to re-collect it into a bottle.

“You spent your early childhood in the walls of a noble house. Tell me, did you ever remember banquets where the man would enter with a woman at his side?” Josephine’s voice became her curt and exacting side.

“Um, yes. A few.”

“And on how many occasions was that woman their wife?”

Theia shrugged her shoulders impatiently. “I don’t know, I was a child? I could not ascertain—“

“No worry, I can give an adequate estimate. Hardly or none.”

Theia sighed with exasperation. “So, your point is that you’d be like a mistress…to…an unmarried woman?”

“Oh, would you just listen!”

“I am listening, I suppose I’m just dumb?”

Josephine turned to face her, a moment of tense silence consuming the air around them, as she warned herself in her mind to keep her voice low.

“Theia, you forget that I have my own reputation to maintain. I am the Chief Diplomat of the Inquisition. I am the eldest of a noble family. I am an accomplished politician. Everyone attending that banquet tonight will greet me, even with all of my accolades, and you know what they will see? A woman entranced by the shadow of another, enveloped in intrigue and idle lust.”

Bashful anger began to brew in Theia’s chest. “You’d function your life around the thoughts of gossip-starved people than what would make you happy?”

“Parading around Skyhold as your mistress would make me anything but happy.”

“I never asked you to parade, only that you would walk into a damn dinner with me. You do it with Leliana and Cullen all the time!”

“Yes, as the Council, it is so different a situation. That is hardly comparable to an implication that I am now the Mistress of the Inquisition.”

Theia went silent, caught off guard by that specific string of words. She had clearly let the intimacy and quietness of their last two weeks cloud her judgement, but she never meant to disrespect or degrade Josephine’s position. Perhaps she had spent time in a noble home as a small child, but all the knowledge she had of goings-on in the lap of luxury came from stories and books in the Circle. The idea of entering a gilded and warm dining hall with the woman she adored and respected by her side, like the heroes in heroines in her story, touched her. But what those stories did not infer was the political and diplomatic affairs of two women who had dedicated their lives to a Holy War.

“Josephine, I know I haven’t opened up much about my past or my time in the Circle, but, you should know that I mean it when I say my noble birth was about the most “noble” aspect of my life. I was not a child that wanted for anything, that is for sure and for certain. But the minute I became myself, I was ostracized. They sent me to the Circle as soon as they could, and there I stayed, until the rebellion when I was on the run and at the mercy of wherever we could go and remain safe for a night or two. The outside world and the gilded walls I thought I was supposed to belong in were closed off from me. So, forgive me if I am not well-versed in the elusive underpinnings of walking into a fortress banquet hall with the one person I care about most.”

Theia put her hands on her hips and stepped to the side, eyeing the floor, trying not to grind her jaw into dust.

Josephine’s postured had softened, but the temper in her was still thriving. As much as she longed to understand Theia’s perspective, she saw the bigger picture in play, and she could not concede her obligations for the imagination of anyone.

“Theia, you must remember that not all situations will take care with the truth of your life. It is my foremost responsibility to advise you in these circumstances and I will happily do so for as long as you wish me to. But this includes saying no when you so desperately wish me to say yes.”

“So your true wish after all is to steer me in the right direction, and not be with me because you sincerely wish to.”

“You would say that to me after all I have done, after all I have endured in the wake of your endangerment?” Josephine’s voice took a higher, more emotional pitch. Her voice cracking with emotion.

“If that was so hard, surely being seen with me in a formal and non-flippant fashion would be effortless.”

“It is my responsibility to avoid such errors in decorum, Inquisitor. I cannot oblige if I am to remain true to that.”

“Yes, thank you. I will watch my mouth from now on then, to be sure.”

With that, Theia bowed her head with a burdened stoicism. “I shall see you at the banquet, Lady Ambassador.” The Inquisitor then walked away with a brisk step towards the stairs.

“Theia! Ugh,” Josephine called out to her, but for naught. As she was left alone, the anxiety of the night filled Josephine’s body with dread.

She is leaving tomorrow, and that might have been our last conversation.

When Inquisitor Trevelyan entered the Great Hall, the banquet tables pushed together in the middle of the room all together so as to unite one table and one force of voices, she felt all eyes turn to her. She wore a simple grey set of a coat and slacks, similar to her resting clothes but with a tad more embellishment. As she came to her seat at the head of the table, she smiled broadly. The lines of people she adored – some more ferociously than others – greeted her with warmth in return.

“My friends, thank you for honoring me with this gathering. As you have known, I have spent quite some time having the audacity to be injured.” A rumble of chuckling reverberated through the room.

“But, alas, the Healers and surgeons are too good at what they do. And for that, I have welcomed them to dine with us tonight, to regale you in stories of my fallibility.” She picked up her chalice and held it out towards the subsection of faces to the left-hand side of the table, at the several personnel who had so wonderfully oversaw her recovery. Anya’s kind face being one of them.

Her eyes then returned to oversee the rest of the densely-packed table.

“We return to the front in the early dawn, but now, we enjoy each other’s company, and relish the life we’ve been given. And that is what I drink to tonight!” The room erupted in voices and people putting their lips to their drinks along with the Inquisitor. After all was said and done, she took her seat, and the feast was there for all to sink their teeth into.

Meat, fruit, and various other tastes had been plated and mouths chewed on both gossip and dinner like a feast before a battle. Theia made easy conversation with those seated closest to her: Vivienne and Dorian being among them. Cullen and Sister Leliana were paired together on the right-hand side, further towards the middle, strategically placed so as to pick up on anything and everything of importance. Lady Montilyet was seated on the left-hand side, betwixt the nobles, as was her specialty.

The imagery marked the farthest positioned the Inquisitor and the Ambassador had been, and for the longest, without engaging with one another so much as a nod or a wave, or a tacit smile.

“My friend, I am thrilled to be heading back into the snowy desolate hellscape the South has given such an illustrious name. Though, I will admit, you owe me at least several generous favors,” Dorian jested, chewing a bite of mean on the side of his mouth.

Theia smirked, sitting back fully in her chair. She had taken a break from eating, though her appetite had vanished an hour or so before she even sat down. “Dorian, I will be at your beck and call, every demon, every giant, you may use me as your shield.” Their party banter was fact becoming legend in the halls of Orlais. Surely, they would get numerous invitations to soirees and parties if they survived the war.

Theia would not favor his clever company, though, out of respect for the rest of her company. She titled her head in Vivienne’s direction and smiled. “Madame de Fer, my people are still scouting for the remaining Circle Tomes you told me about. When we have a general idea, I will secure them myself.”

“My dear, thank you. It will be most relieving to have custody of them again.”

Theia nodded reassuringly before reaching and trying to take another forkful of food. She knew she needed her strength for the morning, but every time she motioned for food, her stomach turned sour. The nerves rattling from her conflict with Josephine were gnawing at her. It was made worse every time she took a gander at Josephine’s seat, and saw her smiling and giggling with her textbook allure. The noblemen seated on either side of her were beguiled, pouring her wine for her, while she sweetly grinned in return.

It made her want to set their bogus masks and hates aflame, and it took a lot to make Theia crave pyro.

Leliana watched carefully as she caught the Inquisitor looking again in the Lady Ambassador’s direction with a look as if she had just ingested a sour gulp of wine.

“They have quarreled” she said in a hushed tone, leaning towards Cullen’s ear.

Cullen, robustly chewing a mouthful of food like any sensible soldier would, eyed Leliana through his periphery, the scoffed. “Leliana, you’re getting court intrigue in my peas, again,” he said low and sarcastic.

“Cullen, you’re always happier with food in front of you, why not look like it,” Leliana countered. “This effects the productivity of the Inquisition, much to your dismay. A distracted Diplomat means stressed negotiations. A distracted Inquisitor means a possibly dead Inquisitor. Take care.”

The Commander swallowed his bite and took another sip of wine to wash it down. “They are both adults. Perhaps this will embolden the Inquisitor to refocus on her responsibilities at hand.”

Leliana’s heart and chest stiffened with stubbornness. She knew all-too-well the consequences of arguments between two lovers cast into the thick of the Game and the Battlefield. She recalled a few times in her life with the Hero of Fereldan, and how a spat or fight turned into angry energy utilized in the thick of combat. Sometimes it would end in…very deep and apologetic embraces, and others, cold shoulders in the night. Either way, the situations always made her feel a pang of regret for losing focus on what mattered.

The sympathy in her bones that ached for Josephine, and by extension the Inquisitor, left a sorry taste in her mouth as she ate.

Theia once again ripped her eyes from the sight of Josephine hard at work with her words and mannerisms, and she decided there was no more room for food tonight. She took a deep breath, another gulp of wine, and looked at Dorian.

“My friend, I fear I should retire. You should feel free to as well, since you and I have the same plans tomorrow.”

“Me? Retire? Inquisitor, I should sooner die and be made a martyr in the Chantry! Go, be boring and sleep,” Dorian patted her on the shoulder, making her smile bittersweetly. Calmly, she rose to her feet, causing everyone to stop and turn their attention towards the tall figure of the Inquisitor.

“My friends, I am afraid it is time for me to follow in the footsteps of Seeker Pentaghast and prioritize my rest. I am sorry to be leaving such warm and rejuvenating company, but please, stay as long as you like, and do not get into too much trouble while I am away,” her words were tender-hearted, like her chest had been aching with sentimentalities all evening.

She did not look for too long, but if she did, she would have seen Josephine’s face sink from a face of charm to a face of concern. She did not let it stay that way for long, but the fact that she let it stay at all was telling for her friend, the Spymaster. They had quarreled, and it was not left on good terms.

Everyone mumbled and worded their goodbyes to the Inquisitor as she bowed her head in respect and sought her way out to her bed chambers for the evening. The dinner continued to run its course until late, and eventually, the Hall quieted and darkened.

Theia sat on the railing of the balcony, her feet over the edge and hovering over the 2-3 story drop, perhaps more, but she wasn’t going to see for herself. She wore a long-leeved night dress of dark ring velvet, one that hugged her body like armor, but twice as deadly to look at. She had wore it two separate nights while Josephine slept over, once she could wear more “high-maintenance” garments over her bandage. Josephine adored it, and could hardly keep her hands off of the smoothness and richness of Theia’s body wrapped up in the texture of luxurious velvet.

Perhaps, tonight, she wore it for herself, because the touch of Josephine’s hands and the smell of whatever body oils she used still lingered in its stitches.

“Inquisitor, if I may have a word,” Leliana’s voice broke through the quiet night like a nocturnal thief. Theia was surprised, but did not let it show in her body. She continued to gaze out at the mountains.

“Leliana, I did not even here you come in,” Theia greeted, her shoulders rolling back.

“I have my own entrance style, you know as well as I,” Leliana responded, coming out into the balcony, standing beside Theia’s seat on the railing.

“What is your concern, then? Another man going missing with a mission to stick me with a dinner knife?” Theia reminisced for a moment on the last time Leliana was in her bed chambers after hours, with a similar look of concern and nervousness.

Leliana smirked, hands behind her back as she looked out as well.

“Inquisitor, I watched you and Josephine tonight. You were not as engaged with each other as you have been these past weeks. Has something happened?” she went straight to the point, in typical Leliana fashion. Theia appreciated it, even when it felt like a punch to the gut, a body part that was a stressful one for her as of late.

“We were seated far away from each other, surely to skip over that many people just to have dinner banter would have been arbitrary for the both of us,” Theia tried to put up a front, but she knew Leliana already had her eyes and teeth waiting to get into the jugular of the circumstance. Perhaps this was just formality.

“Inquisitor, I know the face you made when you watched her mingle. It was not one of polite consideration, it was one of seething jealousy. Jealousy after a couple has differences and does not successfully put them to bed before night festivities. If I was still a Bard, it would have gone on the top of my report to my patron.”

“Leliana,” Theia said, flipping her legs around and hopping down from the railing, “There is so much for me to focus on right now than this, and I am not sure what you hoped to get out of me tonight, but, I beg for your mercy in this,” she peered at Leliana from her side, a face of sincere fatigue.

“What happened to make you two so estranged? Surely the meaning of this last night before your travels would make you want to cling even closer.”

“Leliana.”

“Inquisitor.”

Theia sighed and turned away, stepping towards the other side of the balcony, trying half-heartedly to get some space. Leliana watched her, knowing she was close, but also with the fact in mind that Theia would put up a fight. There were layers to this Inquisitor, many for the sake of self-preservation, but also ones for the sake of duty, of respect.

“Whatever you say, I only ask for honesty. Your truth will not break my respect for you, your dishonesty will,” Leliana advised, remaining where she stood, stalwart.

There was a silence, while Theia pondered her options. She knew Leliana would find out sooner or later what had transpired, whether it be from her mouth, Josephine’s, or the mouth of one of her people. Their argument was in a quiet corner, but not in a secured room. Surely it garnered someone’s attention.

Fine, then.

“I asked something of her that insulted her position. We could not see eye-to-eye on it, and I left it there.”

“What did you ask?” Leliana became concerned, as it she was about to hear something grotesque or cruel. A defensive and loyal friend through and through.

“I asked her to enter the banquet hall with me tonight, at my side. And she—“

“She declined because she does not wish to be diminished to the position of a leader’s mistress.”

Theia swallowed. “Yes, but, that was not my intention, because—“

“Because you were not familiar with such nuances, and genuinely wished for her to enter as your beloved equal. She could only see the ramifications on the big picture of it, and rebuked your sentimentalities, which in turn made you upset.”

“Leliana.”

“Inquisitor?”

“If you knew what had happened, why did you come to interrogate me?”

“I did not know what had happened, but I do know how to fill in blanks. I also know my friend and colleague extremely well.”

Theia folded her arms tightly and shifted her weight between her feet. “Well, then, what is it you wish to say?”

Leliana let the silence take the helm before she responded. Though her hood was covering most of her head and some of her face, Theia could still make out her lightly-colored, luminescent eyes as she scanned out at the sky and landscape. She still wasn’t sure if she was about to get told that it was “say sorry” or else, or if she was about to start crying. It was very obscure and uncharted territory between the Inquisitor and the Spymaster.

Finally, the verdict.

“I know I have kept the details of my past and life with the Hero of Fereldan to my chest, Inquisitor. Most of that has been for the sake of security and austerity. Some of it has been for my own, personal sake. However, when my experiences are useful, I put them to work. You have depended on me for that, no?”

Theia was caught of guard, not really sure how to read the situation. She nodded once, curious as to where this would all lead.

“She and I traveled together, even after the events of the Blight. It is weird, to have a life after an event such as that. You swear to yourself not to get attached to anything or anyone, and then you do. Everything in your mind’s eye is screaming at you to reject, to turn away. And then, she appears. She changes everything. Then she survives, and the disaster you planned for is evaded…for the time being. In the meantime, you must piece together a life, a purpose, again. Still, half of you is already grieving her existence in your life as you watch her assume her destiny.”

Leliana had approached the railing once more, looking away from Theia, who watched and listened like nothing could tear her away from witnessing such an insightful testimony from someone she revered and was terrified of all the same.

“Loving a woman who’s fate is to stare death and destruction in the face and smile is no easy task, Inquisitor. I know. And Josephine does not even have the luxury of walking at your side in the field, weapon unsheathed, with the ability to fool herself into thinking if something comes for you, she can be the wall between you and that danger. The motivation and aggression that takes hold when you walk that path is unlike any other. You feel invincible, and at the same time, ready to be obliterated like scrap metal. Yet, the reality is, you leave her every time you throw yourself into the lion’s den, and she waits as much as she works.”

“Leliana, I—“

“But she is still a woman of formidable power in her own right. She still has the weight of empires on her shoulders. She is one of your mouths, one which parlays and negotiates on your behalf, on all of our behalf. She does vital work for us, and is depended upon greatly. And when she is not our Diplomat, she is someone’s daughter, sister, heir. The future. Surely, she cannot part with that either, while her heart aches for you to be alive with every day that passes in your absence.”

Theia stayed quiet, fearing if she tried to interject once more, Leliana would fly away like one of her ravens.

“I know you meant well. It touches me, actually, thinking someone would want to adorn and hold my friend close in such a way. But, in order to understand her anger, you must also understand all she has to lose. If she fails, if she sells herself short, and then, if she loses you.”

A pause of silence. Theia finally felt like the floor had reopened to her.

“Leliana, I cannot even begin to describe the feelings I have for Josephine. Every time I do, my mind just overwhelms itself beyond reason. But, perhaps she has the right idea. I cannot bear to make her into some sort of lustful figure, but I also can’t deal with not being able to claim her. I do not mean to possess her as an object, but…I look at her, and I want to tell the entire world she is mine. Mine to love, mine to protect.”

“I know, but such things are not always possible. You have a choice, as we all do, when we choose to love women who have destinies greater than their own whims: do you still choose to love her when she cannot belong to you, or will you let her go, to fulfill that destiny alone?”

The words hit Theia’s heart with a pang of misery.

“I will say this, Inquisitor,” Leliana came closer, until only about a few feet separated them, “Fulfilling a great fate alone is hardly comparable to doing it with someone you know, who will always be at your side, ready to fight, ready to do what must be done. She will be regretful tonight, alone, in her room. I know her well enough to say that you leaving in the morning with this being your parting terms will rob her of sleep. Go to her, if your choice is to not back down.”

“It cannot be so easy.”

“Some things are so easy, we make the worst mistakes in overlooking their importance. I will retire now. Thank you for talking with me, Your Worship.”

Leliana bowed her head, her expression one of a friend warning another of her risky decisions. After all the time, Theia was awe-struck to be so confided in by a woman she believed beyond such interactions. It made her admiration and respect of Leliana grow ten-fold, and it was already amassed beyond measure.

Theia went and sat on the couch in front of the fire, anxiously staring at the burning wood. She could go to her, she could slam on the door, she could get on her knees and beg for Josephine to forgive her. She could swoop in, wrap her in her arms, and kiss her so deeply that her body would come undone. She could talk and talk and talk for hours with her, without tiring or growing uninterested. She could sift through and play with her beautiful hair, practice intricate braids and twists. She could read books of poetry and prose to her as she fell asleep on her lap. She could step forward, rip her night dress off her her body, and lay herself out for the taking. The world was at her feet, the feet of a remorseful lover.

Or, she could crawl into her own bed, leave the fire to run its course in the fireplace, leave the balcony doors open like she always did to breath in the air, and then, when she felt sleep draw near, she could blow out the remaining candle on her nightstand table.

And that is exactly what she did.

In the morning, she would awake, and encase her body in thick, metaled armor, while the night sky still embraced itself in darkness. She would comb her hair into a tight bun, without personality. She would pack her satchel with herbs and some meat jerky from the kitchen for the long road. She would stomp her heavy, equipped legs down the steps, and through the Great Hall, where bodies of sleepy troops would be flurrying around and preparing to leave. She would find Seeker Cassandra, who was ready and fiery as she always was, unburdened by the early morning fatigue that seemed to run amok with everyone else. She would greet her, before slipping on her riding gloves, stretching them out with her fingers.

She would look up at the façade of windows on the front of the Skyhold hall, wondering just how long it would be before she woke up. Or if she was awake still. Just for a moment, before a soldier would bring her ready horse to her to mount. When that would happen, she would mount unceremoniously, turn to the men taking control of the wagon, and nod once. A nod of “we’re moving out.” Then, she would take her place at the front of the wary processional, beside Cassandra on horseback. Dorian of course, in the supply wagon, sleeping amongst their weaponry. Always the best spot to be in, he would say.

She would be gone in what felt like a swooping, unforgiving morning wind. But, not before she had stolen away into Josephine’s empty office. Leaving a single note on a small piece of torn parchment, sealed by a small stamp of wax, crimson in color.

A note that said only one line that was everything and not nearly enough.

“My equal, my advisor, my friend, my confidant –

I am sorry.

T”

#oc stuff #inquisitor trevelyan #Theia Trevelyan #inquisitor x josephine #leliana #leliana x hero of fereldan #romance #heartbreak #fanfiction #oof #this was tough to write

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