#dragonagextopgunmaverick

[horseshoegirl]

Dragon Age: Inquisitor!JavyMachado

Hey, somebody had to be the Inquisitor...

Javy sat at his desk, the dim light from the flickering candle casting long shadows across the war room. The map of the south of Thedas, reports, and letters were strewn about, but his gaze was distant, unfocused.

It had been a long day—hours, weeks, months since he’d had a moment to himself. He didn’t know what time of day it was anymore. All he knew was the weight of the Inquisition’s demands crushing him.

Another life-or-death decision loomed on the horizon. Another group of lives he’d have to decide fates for. The constant pressure, the choices that never felt right, that always left someone behind—he couldn’t escape it. He couldn’t escape the fear that no matter what he did, he would always be the one to lose.

The door to the war room creaked open, and he looked up, half-expecting to see one of his advisors or one of Lelianna's spies coming to remind him of some new task.

Instead, it was her.

Her name still felt too soft on his tongue, like something he didn’t deserve to speak. She was his closest companion, his confidante, the one person who had stood by him through everything—whether it was endless battles closing fade riffs, political scheming, or the deep, gnawing uncertainty that came with being the Inquisitor.

She stood in the doorway, her expression unreadable. “You’re still here,” she said softly, stepping into the room.

Javy shrugged, trying to mask the exhaustion in his voice. “There’s always more to do.”

“I’ve noticed.” Her tone was light, but there was an undercurrent to it. Something deeper. Her eyes lingered on him for a moment before she took a few steps closer, her boots quiet against the stone floor.

He watched her carefully, afraid of what she might say—or worse, what she might not. For weeks, he’d been aware of how she looked at him when she thought he wasn’t paying attention. The way her gaze lingered a little too long.

He was no fool. He could see it in the subtle shifts of her posture, the way she reached for him in battle without hesitation, the way she always seemed to be near when the weight of the world felt unbearable.

He couldn’t let himself acknowledge it—not while he was Inquisitor. Not while he was the one making the impossible choices. The ones that could tear their world apart or tear them apart.

That could tear her apart.

“You should rest,” she said quietly, her voice pulling him from his thoughts.

He shook his head, letting out a heavy sigh. “Rest doesn’t seem like an option these days.”

She didn’t speak immediately, and for a long moment, there was only the sound of their breathing. Then, almost too quietly to hear, she said, “I’m worried about you.”

Javy’s heart skipped. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had said that to him. Not in this way. Not with the tenderness that only someone who truly cared could convey. And that scared him. More than the chaos swirling outside the doors of Skyhold. More than the war against the demons, the mages, or the templars.

More than Corypheus.

He set the quill down and stood, turning toward her. “You shouldn’t be.”

Her lips pressed together, and her eyes flashed with something he couldn’t quite name. “I can’t help it. I see how hard you’re trying to hold it all together and what it’s doing to you.”

“I didn't have a choice. I don’t have a choice,” he said quickly, his voice tighter than he intended. “The world depends on the decisions I make.”

“And what about you?” she asked, taking a step closer, her voice soft but insistent. “What about what you need, Javy?”

He didn’t know how to answer that. He hadn’t given himself a moment to think about what he needed in months, maybe longer. He was the Inquisitor. His needs didn’t matter. Only the mission mattered.

But staring at her, he realized how wrong he was. She mattered. And the thought of losing her—of pushing her away with the decisions he had to make—was a fear he’d been burying under the weight of his duties.

He wanted to get out of his chair and reach out to her, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t risk it. Not now. Not when the world teetered on the edge of destruction.

“I’m… I’m not the man you think I am,” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper.

Her eyes softened. “And what do you think I see?”

He shook his head, the words stuck in his throat. “That someone else should be in this role. That Cassandra should have fought harder for Hawke or that she...”

Her brow furrowed, and she took another step closer, her hand reaching out to touch his arm. “That’s not true,” she said, her voice firm. “You’re not the monster you think you are. You’re human, Javy. And you’re doing the best you can.”

He swallowed hard, looking down at her hand resting on his arm. Her touch was warm, grounding. He didn’t want to pull away. Didn’t want to push her back. But he was so afraid of what his decisions might do.

“I’m scared,” he confessed, the words escaping before he could stop them. “Scared that everything I’m doing will drive you away. That the things I have to choose will change me into someone you won’t want to be around.”

Her gaze softened, and she stepped closer until they were inches apart. “Javy,” she said gently, “nothing you do will make me leave. I’m here with you, no matter what.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Javy allowed himself to believe that—truly believe it. The Inquisitor he was supposed to be, the leader burdened with saving the world, didn’t have to be the man standing alone in the dark. Not if she was willing to stand beside him.

It wasn’t much, but in that moment, it was enough.

[sarahsmi13s]

“You’re not the monster you think you are”

AAH 😭

I don’t think I could imagine being in that role. The weight of the world literally being on your shoulders. It sounds awful.

Javy deserves to choose her. To choose himself. But in a way, if the world is safe — she’s safe. She’s there.

Dragon Age: Inquisitor!JavyMachado

Hey, somebody had to be the Inquisitor...

Javy sat at his desk, the dim light from the flickering candle casting long shadows across the war room. The map of the south of Thedas, reports, and letters were strewn about, but his gaze was distant, unfocused.

It had been a long day—hours, weeks, months since he’d had a moment to himself. He didn’t know what time of day it was anymore. All he knew was the weight of the Inquisition’s demands crushing him.

Another life-or-death decision loomed on the horizon. Another group of lives he’d have to decide fates for. The constant pressure, the choices that never felt right, that always left someone behind—he couldn’t escape it. He couldn’t escape the fear that no matter what he did, he would always be the one to lose.

The door to the war room creaked open, and he looked up, half-expecting to see one of his advisors or one of Lelianna's spies coming to remind him of some new task.

Instead, it was her.

Her name still felt too soft on his tongue, like something he didn’t deserve to speak. She was his closest companion, his confidante, the one person who had stood by him through everything—whether it was endless battles closing fade riffs, political scheming, or the deep, gnawing uncertainty that came with being the Inquisitor.

She stood in the doorway, her expression unreadable. “You’re still here,” she said softly, stepping into the room.

Javy shrugged, trying to mask the exhaustion in his voice. “There’s always more to do.”

“I’ve noticed.” Her tone was light, but there was an undercurrent to it. Something deeper. Her eyes lingered on him for a moment before she took a few steps closer, her boots quiet against the stone floor.

He watched her carefully, afraid of what she might say—or worse, what she might not. For weeks, he’d been aware of how she looked at him when she thought he wasn’t paying attention. The way her gaze lingered a little too long.

He was no fool. He could see it in the subtle shifts of her posture, the way she reached for him in battle without hesitation, the way she always seemed to be near when the weight of the world felt unbearable.

He couldn’t let himself acknowledge it—not while he was Inquisitor. Not while he was the one making the impossible choices. The ones that could tear their world apart or tear them apart.

That could tear her apart.

“You should rest,” she said quietly, her voice pulling him from his thoughts.

He shook his head, letting out a heavy sigh. “Rest doesn’t seem like an option these days.”

She didn’t speak immediately, and for a long moment, there was only the sound of their breathing. Then, almost too quietly to hear, she said, “I’m worried about you.”

Javy’s heart skipped. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had said that to him. Not in this way. Not with the tenderness that only someone who truly cared could convey. And that scared him. More than the chaos swirling outside the doors of Skyhold. More than the war against the demons, the mages, or the templars.

More than Corypheus.

He set the quill down and stood, turning toward her. “You shouldn’t be.”

Her lips pressed together, and her eyes flashed with something he couldn’t quite name. “I can’t help it. I see how hard you’re trying to hold it all together and what it’s doing to you.”

“I didn't have a choice. I don’t have a choice,” he said quickly, his voice tighter than he intended. “The world depends on the decisions I make.”

“And what about you?” she asked, taking a step closer, her voice soft but insistent. “What about what you need, Javy?”

He didn’t know how to answer that. He hadn’t given himself a moment to think about what he needed in months, maybe longer. He was the Inquisitor. His needs didn’t matter. Only the mission mattered.

But staring at her, he realized how wrong he was. She mattered. And the thought of losing her—of pushing her away with the decisions he had to make—was a fear he’d been burying under the weight of his duties.

He wanted to get out of his chair and reach out to her, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t risk it. Not now. Not when the world teetered on the edge of destruction.

“I’m… I’m not the man you think I am,” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper.

Her eyes softened. “And what do you think I see?”

He shook his head, the words stuck in his throat. “That someone else should be in this role. That Cassandra should have fought harder for Hawke or that she...”

Her brow furrowed, and she took another step closer, her hand reaching out to touch his arm. “That’s not true,” she said, her voice firm. “You’re not the monster you think you are. You’re human, Javy. And you’re doing the best you can.”

He swallowed hard, looking down at her hand resting on his arm. Her touch was warm, grounding. He didn’t want to pull away. Didn’t want to push her back. But he was so afraid of what his decisions might do.

“I’m scared,” he confessed, the words escaping before he could stop them. “Scared that everything I’m doing will drive you away. That the things I have to choose will change me into someone you won’t want to be around.”

Her gaze softened, and she stepped closer until they were inches apart. “Javy,” she said gently, “nothing you do will make me leave. I’m here with you, no matter what.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Javy allowed himself to believe that—truly believe it. The Inquisitor he was supposed to be, the leader burdened with saving the world, didn’t have to be the man standing alone in the dark. Not if she was willing to stand beside him.

It wasn’t much, but in that moment, it was enough.