#eden/varric

[mrs-theirin]

It wasn’t what the Champion would do. No, the Champion would raise her staff to the sky, a daring grin tugging at her lips as she boldly accepted the Arishok’s challenge, her blue eyes gleaming with determination as she sliced through him. She would stand tall, victorious, with minor injuries and a head held high as she accepted her new title of Champion and returned home to celebrate the victory, crumbled city be damned. The Champion would not be rolled over on her side, gashes littering her body, barely clinging to life as her mind surely raged with the guilt of killing a man she respected.

read all 5 chapters of my hawke/varric amnesia au fic here!

*ps - if this looks familiar, that's because it is! i started this years ago and never finished, so if you read it back then, start from the beginning! i rewrote the posted chapters

[stinkrascal]

also i genuinely think i was just playing da2 wrong the first time bc im having SO much fun in this playthrough... thats the difference between siding with the mages and the templars i suppose

[thedragonagebigbang]

Some truths are best left buried

Written by: Teine Mallaichte Illustrated by: Exalted Dawn and Eden

Rating: General Audiences Content Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Fandom(s): Dragon Age 2 Major Pairing(s)/Character(s): Male Hawke, Anders, Merrill, Varric, Fenris.

Long before Kirkwall was the city of chains, before it was Emerius, before the imperium there was Creanaom - a small settlement inhabited by the Daefad. When Hawke stumbles upon a cryptic note signed by The Band of Three, he has no idea where his new obsession might lead.

More from Teine Mallaichte: @teine-mallaichte More from Exalted Dawn: @exalted-dawn | bsky More from Eden: @diableriepervert | twitter

Full art by Exalted Dawn:

Full art by Eden:

[anakliro]

Name: Garrett Hawke

Title(s): Champion of Kirkwall Class/Specialization: Mage/Force magic, Elemental Magic, Telekinesis Traits: communicative, charismatic, willful Virtue(s): valor, justice, liberality Vice(s): intemperance, wrath, Martin Eden syndrome Jungian archetype: Rebel Tarot arcana: Tower

Favorite location(s): Kirkwall outskirts, Western approach, Lothering Chantry Soundrack: "LUSI", Offer Nissim & Nasrin Kadri

Habit(s): skin picking, singing out loud, reciting poetry whenever alone Fear(s): being replaced, fighting in vain, loss of loved ones and self Closest circle: Varric, Aveline, Solona, Carver, Alistair, Isabela Romance: ???

Misc:

Really likes romantic poetry. Ballads, short poems imbued with deep passion, yearning and desire. Has a preference for a succinct, striking manner of writing, rather than the one that builds up over time.

Tried his hand at writing, wasn’t exactly good at it until he actually was, but he keeps his poems locked up in a drawer. His poetry is not everyone’s cup of tea, but someone with a taste for sharp and straightforward word-weaving would certainly find it to their liking. Hawke doesn’t take his hobby and himself as a poet seriously, though.

He isn’t the reader type, his curiosity is rare and selective, but he’s the one to swallow and obsess over a topic of interest, whenever he finds one.

Likes gentle people. Likes being taken care of. It’s not easy for him to feel safe and calm, so he overcompensates it by assuming this fierce stance and providing safety and ultimate protection to others. Is the type of person who people assume don’t need comforting. And he usually doesn’t, but still.

Despite his temperament, has quite a lot of patience. Has an insane capacity for love.

Likes the smell of vetiver and blood lotus.

Walks fast.

Has a big nose, and whenever Hawke is about to sneeze, Carver would say “just don’t blow me away, now”.

[sharp-teeth-and-archived]

Get to know the author!

name : Bambi or Eden, mostly known by Bambi.

pronouns :  She/her.

preference of communication : My ims are messed up a bit sometimes, especially on my main blog because I hardly ever get a notification there, but I don't have a preference. Discord or ims work, discord is probably the quickest to reach me.

most active muse :  It changes daily and changes based on my mood, but usually Astrid, Sean, Cassie or Lydia, & Hewlett. Varric is the more active da muse, but my muse is really slow with that fandom for some reason.

experience / how many years :  In the tumblr rpc since 2018, I've been roleplaying since I was 10.

best experience : There are too many for me, honestly, but I think one of my best experiences are with Hewlett's threads, my ship dynamics over the years (like how Lilith/Jacob have been together for around 4 years, it makes me feel old lmao). But basically, I have too many to claim one as my overall best experience.

rp pet peeves : Force shipping, not giving me much to work with in a reply, not communicating. I don't have too many rp pet peeves, honestly.

plots or memes :  Memes? I do like plots, but usually for a first interaction memes are easier. But I don't mind either way. I like both my plotted and meme-centered threads and interactions. Plotting tends to give me a better idea of where a thread is heading.

long or short replies :  Lately, short replies since I'm slowly easing into writing again and long threads weirdly overwhelm me when I'm easing back into writing. But I don't mind either one. Usually, I end up writing a lot in a reply anyways lmao.

are you like your muses : I have multiple muses, but I think I have a piece of myself in each one. I think it's hard to not have that occur when you are writing a character, especially ocs. But my muse type is kind of complicated: I usually go for muses that are not like myself or are just interesting to me in general with their perspective.

For what muse I'm most like, it has to be Cassie. She isn't a self-insert oc at all, but I think my current predicament in life really resonates with Cassie's character arc. I'm trying to find myself in my early years, I come from parents that sheltered me a lot growing up. (Cassie has a very extreme situation with her parental dynamic, way different from mine other than very small aspects of her sheltering situation). I feel my emotions deeply, similar to Cassie, and I love just as deeply (if not deeper). I'm still figuring out my past, trying to find myself, like Cassie and I'm going in the direction I think is right. I'm also looking for companionship as she strives for. But unlike Cassie, I cannot bottle up my emotions (especially anger and sadness). I'm not as gullible as Cassie is. Cassie is more rigid, polite, and formal than I am. I'm more laid back, especially with speaking. She's also more talkative and extroverted than I am. But Cassie does reflect a few traits I want to emphasize in myself. She's probably the oc and muse I'm most similar to.

[libartz]

Dragon Age characters’ favourite Boost Juice flavours (Feat. My PCs)

Nayra Brosca- veggie garden blend

Linda Amell- lemon crush

Alistair- all berry bang

Leliana- strawberry squeeze

Zevran- mango tango crush

Morrigan- raspberry ripple

Wynne- green tea mango mantra

Oghren- choc muscle hustle

Sten- cookies and creme

Nathaniel- 2 and 5 blend

Sigrun- caribbean green

Velanna- grape escape

Justice- blue honolulu

Benjamin Hawke- banana buzz

Anders- coffee dream

Fenris- lychee charm

Sebastian- blueberry blast

Aveline- brekkie to gogo

Carver- protein supreme

Bethany- razzberry mango

Isabela- janine’s favourite

Merrill- wild berry blend

Varric- mornin’ mocha

Ornaros Lavellan- berry remedy juice

Meraad Adaar- wondermelon

Cullen- mango magic

Josephine- tropical storm

Dorian- king william chocolate

Iron Bull- pink paradise

Vivienne- watermelon crush

Sera- power plant protein

Blackwall- mint condition blend

Solas- Pure eden super smoothie

Cassandra- strawbrekkie

Cole- lychee crush

[veorlian]

“You think too much. It’s me.”

the last chapter of the road, the hidden truth, & you is up!! @mrs-theirin you did such an amazing job with this chapter and with the whole story <3 <3 <3

[merrybandofmurderers]

used this generator to make some fake covers for my fics

Jain has never felt powerful. In the Circle, that was for the best. But the Inquisition is a far cry from that life, and as Herald, Jain is fashioned into a symbol of hope. Under the weight of these responsibilities, unexpected revelations are made, and Jain must contend with a newfound strength ney has always feared to possess. But the Inquisition is not the Circle, and Jain’s fears find no purchase here.

A letter written in a blocky hand on a tattered piece of parchment, found on Donal Sutherland’s pillow: Pa, I hate to leave like this, but I know I can’t convince you. I’ve gone to join the Inquisition. It’s calling to me, Pa. I want to be a part of this. I’m sorry to leave you alone, but Berta’s got more sons than she knows what to do with. I’m sure one of them will be glad to help you. I’ve only taken Freckles and some provisions for the trip. I’ll write when I get there to let you know I made it safe. Take care of yourself, Pa. I’ll see you again.

Eden Hawke sacrificed herself in the Fade at Adamant. She survived against all odds, but the Fade has not been kind to her. When she finally escapes, she finds that the world she remembers has drastically changed. But that can wait. For as long as she wandered the Fade, only the thought of her lover, Varric, kept her moving forward, and she's determined to reunite with him no matter how different things are.

@mrs-theirin, @gaysolavellan, @calicostorms, @fade-and-loathing-in-thedas, @transfenris-truther, @midnightprelude

[self-conscious-author]

Master list

Please note that these are not necessarily in order of when they’ll be released.

Coup de Foudre ~ Teen Wolf ~ Being rewritten

Eira Einarsdottir, the merciful Witcher, devotes her life to traveling the world saving supernaturals after someone she loves is killed by hunters. After two years she and her pack arrive in Beacon Hills and Stiles finds himself quickly falling for the protective blue eyed alpha.

(Stiles Stilinski x OC)

The Lion’s Heir ~ Harry Potter ~ On hold

Very few people believe Harry when he says Voldemort is back, but maybe this confident little redhead with golden glasses does.

(Harry Potter x OC)

Survivor ~ Avengers ~ On hold * maybe re-writing

ban·shee

/ˈbanSHē/

(noun):

a female spirit whose wailing warns of an impending death.

(Loki x OC)

To Boldly Go ~ Star Trek

Space, the final frontier.

All Lerona O’Hara has ever wanted to do is help people, but she supposes that’s a given being half Betazoid. That, and exploring the vast beauty of space. She just didn’t expect to hit so many bumps in the metaphorical road.

(James T. Kirk x OC)

Cherry Red ~ Teen Wolf

Madelaine Martin has secretly always had a soft spot for the asthmatic Scott McCall and his hyperactive hopelessly-in-love-with-her-twin-sister best friend, Stiles Stilinski. So she notices rather quickly when they suddenly start acting strange.

(Scott McCall x OC)

Juniper ~ Detroit: Become Human

Detective Juniper “June” Mcallister quickly finds her life taking a drastic turn after meeting the new Cyberlife Android, Connor.

(Connor x OC)

Sunshine ~ Harry Potter

“I wasn’t always blind. I lost my sight after my first prediction when I was seven. Trading my outer eye for my inner one, I suppose.”

(Cedric Diggory x OC)

Prim’s Pick ~ The Hobbit ~ Finished

In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit..

(Bilbo Baggins x OC, one shot)

Azaghâl ~ The Hobbit

( 1 )

A family forever standing as a shield to the line of Durin protects them still, as Jon follows Thrya and their kin on a perilous journey to retake their homeland. Starting in the cozy little hobbit hole of one Bilbo Baggins.

(OC x OC)

Emeralds and Pearls ~ Harry Potter

A walk in the woods when they were six changed the Malfoy twins’ lives forever.

(Harry Potter x OC)

A Rose By Any Other Name (Would Smell As Sweet) ~ Harry Potter

What matters is what something is, not what it is called.

(OC x OC)

Athena ~ Avengers

Cut off one head, two more shall take its place.

Deep in the Ozark Mountains there is a mansion. A mansion so shrouded in secrecy and security that the world around it has no clue it houses one of Hydra’s most unique creations.

(OC x OC)

Friendly Foes ~ Avengers

The son of a billionaire industrialist, and the youngest daughter that survived the bombing of her home.

(OC x OC)

Of Eden ~ Teen Wolf

-description pending-

(Scott McCall x OC)

The Wit of A Raven ~ Harry Potter

-description pending-

(Harry Potter x OC)

BloodLines ~ Harry Potter

-description pending-

(Cedric Diggory x OC)

The Graceful Queen ~ The Chronicles of Narnia

-description pending-

(Caspian x OC)

Bend ~ ATLA/The Hobbit crossover

-description pending-

(Fíli x OC)

Fade Into Me

Lyra remembers almost nothing of her life before Varric Tethras found her in the rubble of her home beneath a fade tear. But her life after, and the family she made, makes up for it.

Only, now she must stop someone in her family from ending the world as they know it.

(Lucanis Dellamorte x Lyra Tethras)

[mrs-theirin]

[ao3 link]

Andraste’s ass.

After the Seeker left, well informed but deeply dissatisfied with Varric’s answers, all Varric had left was the ruin of the estate and silence.

Hawke’s estate wasn’t used to silence. Even on her worst days, she managed to keep it loud and bustling, bursting with music or laughter or just plain shouting. Whether it was the chaos of the mages taking refuge or the banter of their friends, there was always noise. Yet silent it had been for years. Until now.

Letters scattered on the cold tile. Lamps shattered, desks haphazardly laid ajar, doors thrown open and left agape. Even bottles of wine poured onto the floor in case there was something, anything hidden within them. Cassandra and her men did not spare a single corner.

To bring him here, to interrogate him about her in her own home–

Varric’s fist tightened around a discarded bottle of wine.

Rivain’s purest, the bottle read. The telltale sign Hawke was traveling with Isabela.

How stupid did Cassandra think they were?

Straight from the Anderfels, said the bottle at his feet. Taste of Tevinter, read the bottle shattered a few steps away. Finest from Ferelden, said the bottle in her room upstairs. Did the Seeker really think that Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall, a woman of lies, of banter and deceit and all things criminal, the woman who had survived in Kirkwall by hiding her identity, would be stupid enough to send Varric letters? 

Given that Cassandra had taken everything he had said as fact, Varric didn’t think she was all that bright in the first place. Sure, Hawke had known nothing of Anders’s plan–after all, why wouldn’t she be oblivious to her closest friend’s plans to change the course of history? Everything that had happened to Hawke was an unlucky happenstance; of course she killed the Arishok with pride, of course she had been up and running with a grin immediately after Leandra died, of course she was best buddies with the captain of the guard. Surely none of these could be false.

Meanwhile, if Cassandra had just asked Aveline what she thought of Hawke, she’d be able to provide her with such a long string of synonyms for the word “bitch” that she’d still be talking a week later.

He tilted the bottle in his hand. The simplest code, and the Seeker still couldn’t crack it. Didn’t even consider it. Hawke always knew how to outsmart the public.

Interrogated in her home. It was all such complete bullshit.

If he had just come here a second sooner–

Maker’s breath, the place was empty. So empty. 

And now, just like everything else in Hawke’s life, it was tainted by people who thought they were entitled to her life. To come here looking for her as a sign of faith, as if dragging her to continue being the #1 punching bag of the cosmos was a luxury, as if it was an honor. As if all she had fought for was to get yanked back into it against her will by idiots who were just trying to do “the right thing”.

Hawke’s estate was empty. And if the Seeker had her way, it would stay that way forever. Silent. Everything that Hawke never was. And never would be, if Varric had anything to say about it.

But even as he stood in the ruins of her home, clutching a bottle with her essence on it, with the sound of her voice in the dryness of the wine, with a wisp of her hair stuck to the side, he knew he’d never had a say in the matter, and likely never would. Because no matter how many stories he wrote, no matter how many lies he spun, his writing couldn’t change reality, and reality had never been kind to people like Hawke. Hawke especially. 

In her own fucking home.

Andraste’s ass.

[hawkeish]

Happy Friday! It’s the end of the week, and you know what that means. Time to rec! some! fics!

I haven’t read that much this week because work’s been a whole lot and I’ve been hanging out with my family (read: indoctrinating them into the cult of Anthony Bourdain, may he rest in peace), but here’s what I’ve been enjoying.

(As always, please let me know if any of the creators are on Tumblr and I’ll tag them, if I haven’t already!)

- The Seventh Circle by dismalzelenka and ladymdc. A really cool modern w/magic Awakening AU where the Wardens & darkspawn are a myth, a bedtime story parents tell their children. Focuses on Cousland, Tabris and the Awakening gang, whose dynamics are SO well-written. Only two chapters in, but it’s pretty fun!

- Reflections by @mrs-theirin​. What happens when the ever-joking Eden Hawke can't find the joke anymore? Varric visits her home in hopes of a warm night; he instead finds her in the worst state he's ever seen her in. If you like hurt/comfort, angst, trauma and Hawke/Varric, this one’s for you. Beautifully sad and beautifully written, but does contain implied/referenced self-harm, just to warn!

- Burn A Path by serenityfails. The slow-burn enemies-to-friends-to-lovers Nate/Velanna fic of my heart. So I’ve never actually played Awakening, but fics like this have given me such a second-hand love of it and the whole cast of characters. Again, so wonderfully written, and the action is such a delight to read. And the romance. The romance!

- The Coolness of Your Shadow by Viscariafields @nug-juggler​ Bethany/Alistair. Bethany/Alistair! BETHANY/ALISTAIR. The ship I didn’t know I needed, but it’s just *closes eyes, throws a chef kiss up to God* so good.

Happy reading, have a great weekend and don’t forget to season ur reads with a little kudos or a few cheeky comments!

And feel free to reblog/reply with any more good fics to read - I always crave some fanfic-based procrastination when I should be focusing on real life.

[johaerys-writes]

I’m prompting you with this entire Emily Dickinson poem for Tristan and Dorian. :) Wild Nights – Wild Nights! Were I with thee Wild Nights should be Our luxury! Futile – the winds – To a heart in port – Done with the compass – Done with the chart! Rowing in Eden – Ah, the sea! Might I moor – Tonight – In thee!

Thanks so much for this prompt, babe! For @dadrunkwriting :)

The sounds of music, conversation and the clinking of cups as they met in merry toasts drifted through the tavern. The upper floor of the Herald’s rest had been entirely reserved for the Inquisitor and his inner circle to celebrate his triumphant return from the Emerald Graves. The Inner Circle was there. The Inquisitor wasn’t. 

Sitting by the low table, Dorian took a generous sip of his wine and winced. Whatever passed for wine in this part of the world was nobody’s business. He took another sip, just for good measure, and winced again. He was wondering whether drinking enough of the stuff would temporarily make him forget his sense of taste, when he was startled by a hand clapping him hard on the shoulder. 

“Why’re you wrinkling that nose of yours?” Sera said, plopping on the chair next to him. She leaned forward, sniffing the contents of his cup, then proceeding to make a disgusted grimace. “Did something die in there?”

“I think so, yes.” He swirled the wine in the cup a few times, then placed it on the table. “It appears you have a keen nose for wine.”

“Never liked the stuff. Ale’s better.”

“Ah.” He stayed silent, eyes drifting towards the door. What in the Void was taking Trevelyan so long?

“Oi.” Sera’s face, when it blocked his vision, wore a curious, perplexed frown. “What’s with the puppy eyes?”

Dorian huffed, folding his arms before his chest. “Sera, I’ve told you time and time again. These are no puppy eyes. This is what it looks like when people think. You should try it sometime.”

She blinked, leaning closer. A toothy grin widened her lips. “Miss your boyfriend?”

“My b- would you stop it with all the questions?” he hissed, swatting her away. “Preposterous. Wherever you get those ideas, I’ll never know. Now , if you’ll excuse me, I must-“

He was ready to stand up and go to the bar and demand a decent drink, when the door swung open, and the cheers that rose from the people gathered in the tavern were nigh on deafening. 

Dorian’s breath hitched as he watched Trevelyan make his way through the tables downstairs, giving reserved nods and half smiles to the people holding their cups up, shouting greetings and praises as he passed. 

He hopped up the steps to the upper level two at a time, his pale blonde waves bouncing before his face with his movements. His cheeks were flushed when he reached the stair landing and glanced about him. His eyes met Dorian’s, and he smiled. A warm, slow spreading smile. Dorian gulped. 

“There he is! The man of the hour,” Bull said, standing up. “Good to see you, Boss.”

“Likewise.” Trevelyan took the cup that was offered to him, glancing at Dorian over its rim as he drank. He sauntered over to the seat next to him, snaking a hand around his waist as he sat. “Did I miss anything?”

Dorian blinked at him. “Have you been drinking?”

“Had a meeting with some nobles from Orlais. There was wine.” He sipped some more of whatever swill Bull had given him, wincing as he swallowed. “But this is better.” He leaned closer, sighing as he nuzzled Dorian’s ear. “You smell good.” 

Dorian’s skin prickled with his touch, a shiver running down his spine. He noticed a few eyes straying to their direction and he cleared his throat, reluctantly edging back to look at him. Trevelyan’s eyes glinted oddly in the light from the torches, the lingering scent of fruity wine on his breath. Dorian swallowed thickly, trying to keep his voice level. “Thank you. So do you.”

Trevelyan smiled cheekily at him as he took another draught from his cup, fingers skimming the small of Dorian’s back before he stood up again to speak with Leliana. That dratted tease of a man. 

Sip after sip, cup after cup, and soon everyone in that room was floating along different levels of inebriation. Josephine was clapping excitedly as Bull and Krem were perched atop a table, singing a bawdy tavern song, while Varric and Cullen had stopped their game of Wicked Grace to join them. 

Bull and Krem’s song drew to a close amongst thunderous claps and jeers. Bull’s laughter was loud and booming echoed when he stepped down, slinging an enormous arm over Trevelyan’s shoulder. “Who wants to hear a word from the Inquisitor?” 

Everyone stomped their feet, laughing and cheering. Bull nudged Trevelyan towards the table, who brought no resistance -for once in his life. He was swaying slightly on his feet when he stood upon the table and cleared his throat.

“Shit,” Sera whispered in Dorian’s ear. “Is he going to sing? That oughta be good.” 

“No.” Dorian’s smile was hidden behind the rim of his mug. “No, he won’t.” 

Sera looked at him questioningly, but before she could say anything else, Trevelyan’s voice cut through the silence that had spread over the company. 

“I would to heaven that I were so much clay, As I am blood, bone, marrow, passion, feeling- Because at least the past were passed away- And for the future- (but I recite this reeling, Having got drunk exceedingly today, So that I seem to stand upon the ceiling) I say- the future is a serious matter- And so - for the Maker’s sake- whisky and ice cold water!” 

More cheers, claps, and the sound of mugs banging against the table erupted from the crowd as Trevelyan bowed dramatically and hopped off the table, landing on his feet like a cat, staggering only a hair. He made as if to return to his chair next to Dorian, when Varric shouted “More! More!” 

Trevelyan shook his head, laughing, but more and more took up the chant. He turned to look at Dorian, who was watching him carefully, silently. Waiting. A playful smirk curled the edges of his lips as he covered the distance between them, falling on one knee before him. 

“Wild Nights,” Trevelyan started, and silence fell in the room once again, “Wild Nights! Were I with thee, Wild Nights should be our luxury. Futile - the winds - To a heart in port - Done with the compass - Done with chart! Rowing in Eden - Ah, the sea! Might I moor - Tonight… in thee.” The scoundrel had the audacity to wiggle his eyebrows at him. 

Dorian’s heart beat madly against his ribcage, making his head swim. He could feel all eyes on them, waiting for his reaction. Trevelyan was watching him, too, that tiny dimple at the corner of his mouth more pronounced than ever. Dorian couldn’t remember the last time he had seen him so… jovial. So carefree. He let his eyes glide over Trevelyan’s features, and so rosy was the flush in cheeks, so wide his smile, so bright the glint in his dark blue eyes, that suddenly Dorian couldn’t care less who was to see. 

He reached out, gently cupping Trevelyan’s cheek. His lover’s gaze softened as he leaned into his touch, brushing his lips over his palm. Lips soft like flower petals, the tiny bristles of day old stubble caressing his skin. His beautiful, drunk, exquisite man. 

Without a word, Trevelyan stood up, pulling Dorian into his arms. The raucous of cheers and applause around them was deafening when Trevelyan’s lips closed over his, arms wrapping around his waist. He tasted of wine and that terrible swill Bull had given him, and Dorian lapped at it eagerly, uncovering the sweet, earthy taste of him. 

He was dangerously short of breath when Trevelyan drew back to look at him, thumb brushing his cheek. “So… is that a yes on the mooring thing?” 

Dorian laughed against his lips, pulling him flush against him, oblivious to everyone and everything that wasn’t them. “Festis bei umo canavarum.“ 

*********************

Poem 1: I would to heaven that I were so much clay - Lord Byron (changed only slightly to fit the scene!)

Poem 2: Wild Nights - Wild Nights! - Emily Dickinson

[rileymcdaniels]

Dear Winter, I hope you like your name.

@magicaltalents

“I promised Felicity that I would go with her and Sam today. Is that okay?” Eden nearly hops with excitement as she walks next to her papa, grinning up at him.

It’s the Harvest Festival, which is her favorite time of year and not just because her birthday was last week. Their town’s main thoroughfare is lined with vendors selling everything from apple candy and autumn beer to fine woolen clothing for the winter. There are entertainers of all kinds playing music and telling stories.

“Sure,” Papa says. “Here.”

Eden holds her hand out, surprised when two gold pieces are dropped into her palm. She beams. “Thank you!” she chirps, putting the money in her pocket for safekeeping.

“Don’t tell your mother,” he warns, but he’s smiling.

Eden giggles as Mama catches up to them, Eden’s little brother at her heels. Her brother is five and has recently decided to become very annoying, so she ignores him. Eden much prefers Alara, who is six months old and asleep in Mama’s arms. Eden goes up onto her tiptoes to peer at Alara’s face and kiss her round baby cheeks.

“Wait before you run off,” Mama says as she passes Alara to Papa, who cradles her with his arm.

Mama refastens Eden’s cloak as Eden stands still, impatient with excitement but obedient. “There,” Mama says as she looks Eden over. “I know you were disappointed we wouldn’t be able to stay as long as usual.”

“Alara’s too little,” Eden says, shrugging like she has never been bothered by anything in her life. “I don’t care.”

Mama smiles. “Your papa and I decided you’re old enough to stay a little longer. Be home before supper, alright?”

Eden bounces, smiling so hard her cheeks hurt, waving at her parents as she dashes off. Felicity and Samantha, twins with bright red hair, are easy enough to find, and together, the girls go off to enjoy the festival.

They split the cost of one of Miss Turner’s famously sized pumpkin pastries and eat it sitting on a bench near the blacksmith. With the rest of their money, Sam and Felicity buy real silk ribbons so the dresses they wear to the Chantry each week will not be so boring.

Eden does not need ribbons. She has never attended Chantry services in her life. And after last week, she isn’t even curious anymore. Eden’s palms itch as she thinks about watching her brother tumble out of a tree and the crackling energy that exploded from her hands to form a protective bubble around him so he hit the ground without a scratch on him.

Once the twins tuck their new ribbons into their pockets, Eden buys apple candy and hot apple cider for all three of them. She puts the handful of silver pieces she has left back into her pocket with her apple candy. Sam leads the way to a bard with the largest audience.

The bard is a stout human woman whose glorious textured curls fall down to her waist, and the bard begins a story just as they walk up.

Eden hears the story of the Inquisition and of Corypheus and of an end of the world that never came to pass that afternoon. It’s not the first time she has heard the story. She doesn’t remember the first time she heard it. She knows most of the names.

Seeker Cassandra is her Aunt Cassandra, who taught her to throw a punch when she was six. Magister Pavus is Uncle Dorian, and Eden makes a face to hear someone talk about him so seriously because Uncle Dorian is absolutely ridiculous. Eden has never deigned to call Uncle Bull The Iron Bull in her life. Her parents still do not know about the copy of The Viper’s Nest by Uncle Varric that she keeps under her pillow, and if her brother knows what’s good for him, they never will.

The archer with deadly aim – although the bard seems to knows more about the archer’s love for the Herald than anything else – is her mama.

And to her, the Lord Inquisitor, Herald of Andraste, is just her papa.

But – the bard’s telling is not the story she knows. Her mouth tightens as she looks around and watches people’s faces. When the story is over, Felicity and Sam chatter excitedly, but Eden follows a step or two behind, head heavy with questions.

“Are you okay?”

Sam and Felicity are looking at her with concern.

“What? Oh, yes, sorry. Um. I think I’m going to go home. I promised my mama I wouldn’t stay too late.”

The twins nod and say goodbye as Eden takes the path away from town towards her house. It’s not far, only a few minutes, but it’s not even close to suppertime, so she takes it slow.

The story she just heard is a lot bigger than the one she’s heard before. Maybe she used to just be too little to understand it. It’s not like she thinks about it everyday. And Corypheus had been dead for ages by the time she was born.

The world had almost been destroyed. She almost was never born. But she was. She’s eleven years old. Just this morning, Papa had asked her, in a long-suffering tone, to be a little kinder to her brother. Mama nagged her about picking up her books yesterday.

They saved the world.

And then, as the house comes into view, it occurs to her that Papa is more powerful than empresses and kings. Or he was. And the bard said Papa deliberately left all of that for a quieter life. It didn’t end naturally like Mama used to say. It occurs to her that Papa and Mama would have known that they were having her when Papa left the Inquisition.

Papa had been greater than an emperor or king or Archon, but he and Mama came here, to their little house and farm, a few months before she was born. She hesitates before opening the front door. Papa didn’t have to do that. Lots of important people have kids but stay important. But unlike those kids, Papa is there to ruffle her hair and remind her to be nice to her brother and kiss Mama everyday.

“I’m home!” Eden calls out as she opens the door and hangs up her cloak, kicking her shoes off. She only just remembers to nudge them out of the walkway before going further into the house.

Mama comes down the stairs, smiling. “Hey, little love. You’re back early. Everything okay?”

Eden nods and looks down at her stocking feet to avoid seeing the skepticism in Mama’s eyes. “Nothing’s wrong. Felicity and Sam were bickering and I didn’t want to listen to them,” she lies. She swallows around the lump in her throat, and she pops up onto her toes to kiss Mama’s cheek. “Where’s Papa?”

“Getting Alara to sleep,” Mama says. “He’s going to start supper soon.” Mama pauses and looks at her. “I love you, Eden. I am so proud to be your mother.”

Tears threaten Eden’s composure, so she just nods. Mama always seems to know what she means even when she can’t say it, so she probably understands.

Eden goes up the stairs to her parents’ bedroom and peeks in. Papa is looking at Alara in her crib with soft eyes, and Eden taps lightly on the door to get his attention.

He looks up and smiles when he sees her. “Hey. Did you have fun today?”

Tears burn at her eyes again, but she nods. “It was good.” There are more words she wants to say, other words, but they get all tangled in her mouth. And she’s shy all of a sudden. She hesitates at the door.

Her papa saved the whole world. He was more important than the empress of Orlais. And now, instead of being the most important person in the world, he’s leaning down to kiss Alara’s forehead as she sleeps.

Eden crosses the room to him, and he rests his arm around her shoulders when she wraps her arms tightly around his waist. She presses her face against his chest.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, rubbing gentle circles on her back.

“I love you, Papa,” she says, mouth pressed against his shirt’s fabric. A couple of tears slip out. “I’m so glad you’re my papa.”

[intoxicatiing]

WHAT HOZIER SONG REPRESENTS HOW YOU LOVE?

From Eden

Love for you is about comfort and familiarity. Love is that feeling of coming home. It’s about always finding a way back to each other no matter what, because your love is stronger than what can keep you apart. “I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door” fits this so perfectly. Overcoming anything that has separated you, but also there’s something so gentle and true about waiting at your lover’s doorstep. It’s a pure connection of patience and belonging. You have belonged together since the beginning of time, and you feel that in your chest when you see them. There’s a magical eternity there between your souls.

tagged by: @brycecousland​t

tagging: @longmayshereignxcersei​ @sharp-teeth-and-wide-grins​ (varric and sera?) @intothewildsea​ @paramounticebound​ @pcrseverance​ and @ you!

[veorlian]

So when he said—

“I need you to be my date.”

—she heard—

“I need a plus one and you’re the only one I can ask.”

—when what he really said was—

“I want you to go to this wedding as my girlfriend.”

i am once again thinking about the road, the hidden truth, & you by @mrs-theirin and crying so

[merrybandofmurderers]

five fave fics

tagged by @gaysolavellan, thank you marcus 😘

The Revolt Inside Me

NB/M, M/M | M | 9,940 | Iron Bull x OC, Dorian x Trevelyan

definitely the fic on this list that i'm most excited about, the infamous tranquil oc fic (ill-famed for taking me so fucking long to update). i have,, very strong feelings about the tranquil and already i've immensely enjoyed exploring my thoughts on the matter with this fic. also i have come to love writing the interactions between my two ocs more than i can express. and i am very nearly done with the long-awaited chapter 3 and cannot wait to share it with y'all

For Know My Crime Was Cruel, And All My Pain Deserved

Gen | M | 11,685 | Dorian x Lavellan

the re-write for In Hushed Whispers for my pavellan long fic. another in the long list of fics i thought would not take me too long and then ended up being over twice as long. i couldnt fix everything i wanted to but that would've required re-writing the quest from scratch so. i settled for what was plausible. that said, i am supremely proud with how this fic turned out, both with the changes i made and the amount of emotional depth i was able to add to the quest

In Heart's Drumming

NB/F | G | 1,901 | Josephine x Trevelyan

i hadn't really planned to write for these characters so soon, but i got an idea and it was just robust enough i felt i could make a fic out of it. it was my first time writing with neopronouns, and that was an interesting challenge. i love writing sibling relationships and i adore josephine's romance, so i look forward to adding more to this story (also i've decided that i'm not satisfied with the summary and now i need to fix that)

And No More Will I Pray

F/M | T | 3,099 | Varric x Hawke

my most recent piece that i wrote as a surprise gift. i find it fitting, honestly, that my first m/f fic is for hawke/varric; it's what eden deserves frankly. anyway, i originally anticipated this being a few hundred words which, well. i should know better than to make predictions like that. still, i had a lot of fun working on it; eden is a great muse. and as someone who has always written solely for myself, it was an interesting experience to write a story for someone else's tastes, and i really enjoyed figuring out the details with quill

Lost Love (Is Sweeter When It's Finally Found)

M/M | G | 1,616 | No. 6 manga

the first fic i ever wrote, which happened kind of on accident. i'd never felt compelled to write fic before, but after this, obviously i fell fully into it. it will always have a special place in my heart for that reason, but i am also proud of it on a technical level. i really like romances where there's work involved in making it, well, work so this was an engaging piece to write

tagging @mrs-theirin, @calicostorms, @fade-and-loathing-in-thedas, @midnightprelude, @pinkhairedlesbianadventures, @transfenris-truther