#female cadash/cole

[inquisimer]

the answer will be an echo

Day 4 of @tranquilweek! As Cadash & Avexis investigate Redcliffe Village, they learn what became of the other Tranquil.

read it on ao3 here!

Avexis & Female Cadash | Rated T | 1139 words | CW: implied/referenced abuse, chantry critical

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Cadash liked picking locks. It made Avexis wonder, as they waited outside the dilapidated shack in Redcliffe, if that was why the dwarf was always carting her places. She was a puzzle, an oddity—she wondered if Cadash simply saw her as a lock that could only be picked over time.

Well, she mused, thumbing the hilt of her dagger, hopefully she figures something out.

Being in Redcliffe made her itch. There were mages everywhere and odd magic on top of the rifts. It set her teeth on edge. The whole place was a disaster waiting to happen. Or maybe it had already happened. It was hard to say.

Their fear was as palpable to Avexis as her own. It hung in the air like a dense fog, coating her throat when she breathed and sitting on her skin like a cold, sticky sweat. Fear of the Templars, fear of the Breach, fear of the Tevinters and what their presence spelled for the mage rebellion.

Cadash grunted and the door clicked open, creaking ominously. Within, the cabin’s dirt floor was dappled with sunlight through the rotting roof.

“Why was it even locked?” Varric huffed.

They found out soon enough. Over a dozen skulls watched them from makeshift shelves, their empty eye sockets gleaming with Fade-touched crystals. Pointed stumps with odd runes etched into their ends were stacked against the wall and tipped over on the floor. When Avexis brushed her fingers across the runes, they flared a bright green.

For the briefest moment, she saw a face—square jaw, blank, gray eyes, freckles that sprayed up to the sunburst brand that marred his brow. Before she could dig up a name, or even where she knew him from, the vision was gone; the part of her mind that she knew was Cole slipped between her and the magic and whatever it meant.

And that meant only one thing. “Something's not right,” she murmured, skittering back a few steps. Cole was matching her rising panic with soothing comfort, but it was a cycle—the more he soothed her, the more she feared what, exactly, she needed soothing for.

She flinched at the too-loud crunch of parchment in Cadash’s fist. “That is fucked,” the dwarf hissed.

“I had noticed their disappearance, but imagined nothing like this.” Avexis could hear Cassandra’s scowl and that defensive mix of guilt and shame that the Seeker usually directed at her. A horrible realization was coming to her, sinking in her mind like boots in cold swamp mud. As if in a trance, she paced back to the shelf of skulls.

Varric coughed pointedly; she could feel his gaze boring into her. “Maybe we shouldn’t—“ he began loudly.

“It’s them, isn’t it?” she whispered. One hand cupped the smooth arch of a skull, thumb tracing the sharp edge of the dormant crystal. “We found the Tranquil.”

No one answered, not that it mattered. Their silence was all the confirmation she needed.

“Avexis—“

“Don’t,” she choked. Before she’d even taken a breath, her eyes glossed over with tears. She made no move to stem their tide. Her grief fell in heavy drops, each one sending poofs of dust up where it landed on the earthen floor.

Her other hand clasped the same skull and she stared into its empty sockets as though she could divine their identity that way. Who were you? she thought desperately. Did I know you? Is anyone missing you?

Of course not. No one missed the Tranquil. That was how this had happened; how the evidence of it existed right under the noses of the mage rebellion, and yet no one cared enough to know, or even ask.

Avexis trembled, an inappropriate laugh bubbling from her lips as anger ripped through her like an earthquake.

That should be me. Then, out loud: “I shouldn’t have— that should be me, too.”

“No.” Cassandra’s voice was closer than she’d expected and Avexis flinched. Her gloved hands caught the skull where Avexis’ grip left it bare and she slid it gently out of the mage’s grasp. Setting it back on the shelf, the Seeker put herself directly in front of Avexis instead.

“It should not have been you, and it should not have been them either.”

“Why don’t we mean anything to anyone?”Avexis whispered. She clenched her fists. “Why doesn’t anyone care?”

“Hey, we care.” That was Varric, and Cadash, coming closer as well but—thankfully—leaving the path to the door wide open. “We’re here, we see you. We care.”

“You see me,” she repeated, shaking her head. “As I am now. Would you still see me if I remained Tranquil? Would you have noticed that I was gone? Because apparently no one—” she gestured angrily to the shelves “—noticed them.”

Cadash caught Avexis’ fist in her roughened palm. “Hey. You’re right.”

“I—what?”

“You’re right,” Cadash said again. “The Circles used the Tranquil because they were conveniently controlled. Because the comfort of those in power was more important than those lives. Because they could.”

Her voice was steady and grounding. Though Avexis' sorrow remained heavy, the tension wound in her relaxed. She pressed her palm flat against Cadash’s and curled her fingers down over the dwarf’s blunted nails. As she searched her eyes for answers and assurances, the filtered sunlight shifted and caught the casteless brand burned into her cheek.

“But the Circles are gone,” Cadash said firmly. At her back, Cassandra scowled, but wisely bit her tongue. “We’re not putting them back unless we’re sure they can do better. For the mages, the Templars, and the Tranquil.”

Avexis exhaled slowly. She knew that was what Cadash thought, but it was good to hear her say it anyway. And yet—

“They’re still gone, though,” she whispered, nudging her chin toward the shelf of skulls. “They still died like that. Were murdered like that. It’s not something we can fix.”

“They were. And it’s not.”

“That hurts,” Avexis whimpered. She ground her teeth together. “It hurts, and I want it to stop hurting. How do I make it stop if I can’t fix it?”

“Sometimes, you can’t.” It was Varric who answered, but Cadash nodded. “Sometimes you just have to sit with it. It might never go away, but you’ll go on. And eventually, you’ll grow around it, instead.”

“That bloody sucks.”

Cadash snorted. “Yeah. It does.”

“Can we…” Swiping at her eyes, Avexis took a shaky breath. “I don’t want to leave them here. Not like this.”

“There is a Sister up the hill—“

“No.” Cadash cut Cassandra off. “We have time, and they deserve better than the Chantry’s biases. We’ll take care of them ourselves.”

Relief flooded Avexis where she hadn’t realized she’d grown tense. “Thank you,” she murmured, ducking her head. Cadash laced their fingers together and squeezed.

“Let’s go.”

[a-gay-bloodmage]

Made some cute little picrews of my Inquisitors using the "Little Guy Maker" (Link)! While both my Adaars are grey-skinned in reality, I figured I'd give them their non-Qunari skin tone for the sake of the picrew. I'd hate to leave them out!

Here's a link to the post about my Wardens!

I'm planning on making a proper series of posts to serve as reintroductions to my Wardens and Inquisitors, but I couldn't help but share these adorable little versions of them! I've added little descriptions of them below in the Read More!

First up is Mallory Trevelyan! He's a lovely little (six foot) guy who got caught up with the Inquisition in full crossdresser garb and just kept up the ruse for as long as he could. He fully identifies as Mallory, but has no issues with being referred to by the name and pronouns (she/her) his female "persona", Mallie. Disowned at 20 for being a gender-nonconforming homosexual, Mallory made his way to Ansburg and quickly formed a friend group made up of sex workers. The fact that he ended up the Herald of Andraste while trying to meet up with his estranged father at the Conclave never ceases to baffle him. I do hope it's no surprise that he fell in love with Blackwall! Not a Warden, Thom? Not a woman, Inquisitor?

Next to Mallory is Kiora Trevelyan! While a rift mage in game, she really functioned as a magical cuddle therapist and budding somniari back in her Circle days. She's a narcoleptic, her intense connection to the Fade often pulling her into sleep incredibly often and quickly. She's often encountering demons, but she's become incredibly proficient at tricking or coaxing them out of her over the years. Thanks to her, Skyhold is full of little black cats, all of which she's named. She adores her girlfriend, Sera, as she's one of the few people who never fail to keep her awake.

Below Mallory is Aelon Lavellan! He's a chaotic little man, obsessed with tinkering and order. He barely identifies with his Dalish heritage, and quite enjoys all of the new things the human world has to offer. He just wishes it was less full of humans. With the exception of Dorian, of course. The stress of battling Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder and likely several other issues has left his incredibly soft ginger hair with many grey patches. He has few friends in the Inquisition, but that doesn't stop him from somewhat enjoying it.

Next to Aelon is Ashavise Lavellan! A woman who cares far, far more for the dead than the living, it's no wonder that Cole is her closest companion in the Inquisition. She has a deep love for elven history and uses her summoned spirits to help her learn. As soon as Solas started talking about his trips in the Fade, she instantly started flirting. What better way to get a man to tell you about his ancient knowledge than to offer him a beautiful woman's body? The day he told her that her vallaslin were slave markings however, she realized that an ancient culture is nothing compared to the one she was blessed with in the present.

Below Aelon is Ademamar Cadash! His mother was from Antiva, his father was from Orzammar, and his mostly-faux confidence knows no bounds. Regardless of the Iron Bull's insistence that he'd break, Ade never let that stop him from trying to ride the Bull. He got there, eventually, of course. Deeply romantic and social despite never having been romantically kissed nor having had friends, Ade would kill and die for the members of the Inquisition, especially Bull and his Chargers.

Next to Ade is Harta Cadash! A very proud member of the Antivan branch of the surface Carta, Harta is a bundle of joy and poison. She loves wine, romance, and all things warm and sunny. Having to live in dreary Skyhold and not beautiful Seleny is one of the biggest drawbacks to being the Inquisitor, in her mind. While she initially flirted with Cullen, she quickly moved on to pursuing Dorian. It's no wonder why her attempt at romance didn't work out, but she couldn't care less. After all, she got a best friend out of it!

Below Ade is Ozol Adaar! A Tal-Vashoth by choice, Ozol is the world's largest pacifist. Originally an Arvaard, he helped his saarebas escape the Qun, unable to tolerate the cruel way it treated mages. Once in the South, he renamed himself Özil—Öz- meaning self or essence, and -il meaning city—but, with time, the name morphed into Ozol thanks to the non-Qunari accents of his mercenary company. While initially hopeful that the massive qunari would be a good fighting force, Cassandra was incredibly disappointed to hear that the massive mercenary was the tax guy for his company. He won her over, in the end. Pie and poetry go a long way in wooing a Seeker.

Next to Ozol is Semiha Silva-Adaar! Found at the edge of a wheat field in a town outside of Markham, Semiha was adopted by two older human parents. Her birth parents left her with only the word "Adaar" scrawled onto a piece of paper. While she wishes she knew them, Semiha doesn't resent the Qunari who left their daughter, only a few days old, out in the elements. Semiha was incredibly proud to be deemed as the "Herald of Andraste" despite being a grey-skinned farm girl. Her adoration for the grace and charm of Josephine quickly turned into a full-blown crush, and it was only through the lack of available livestock that she didn't try to woo her using cattle.

[daitranscripts]

Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts Pt. 6

Introductions to the Empress

Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts Masterpost First: Gaining an Invitation Previous: Enter the Winter Palace

Gaspard heads off as the Court Herald approaches and bows to the PC before guiding them to the ballroom floor.

Royal Herald: And now, presenting: Grand Duke Gaspard de Chalons. And accompanying him…

Herald (Qunari PC): Lord/Lady Inquisitor Adaar! Herald (Dalish PC): Lord/Lady Inquisitor Lavellan! Herald (dwarf PC): Lord/Lady Inquisitor Cadash! Herald (dwarf PC, ???): Lord/Lady Inquisitor Cadash! …Or possibly Inquisitor Gavron, Helmi, Aeducan, or Paragon Fancypants. [I do not know what triggers this.] Herald (human mage PC): Lord/Lady Inquisitor Trevelyan, of the Ostwick Circle of Magi! Herald (human non-mage PC): Lord/Lady Inquisitor Trevelyan, son/daughter of Bann Trevelyan of Ostwick!

The PC continues down the steps and across the floor as the rest of the Inquisition party is announced.

Herald (allied mages): Vanquisher of the rebel mages of Ferelden, crusher of the vile apostates of the Mage Underground! Herald (allied templars): Shepherd and leash of the wayward Order of Templars, purger of the heretics from the ranks of the faithful!

Party Comments:

Vivienne: Remember to smile. This is all for show, my dear.

Sera: He is so full of it! That’s not how it went.

Varric: This guy writes better fiction than I do.

Herald: Champion of the Blessed Andraste herself!

Gaspard chuckles.

Gaspard: Did you see their faces? Priceless.

Herald: Accompanying the Inquisitor:

Party Introductions:

Herald: Seeker Cassandra Allegra Portia Calogera Filomena– Cassandra: Get on with it! Herald: … Pentaghast. Fourteenth cousin to the King of Nevarra, nine times removed. Hero of Orlais, Right Hand of the Divine.

Herald: Madame Vivienne, First Enchanter of the Circle of Magi, Enchanter of the Imperial Court, mistress of the Duke of Ghislain.

Herald: Renowned author Varric Tethras. Head of noble house Tethras, deshyr of Kirkwall to the Dwarves Merchants Guild.

Herald: Lord Dorian Pavus, member of the Circle of Vyrantium, son of Lord Magister Halward Pavus of Asariel.

Herald: Warden Blackwall of Val Chevin, constable of the Grey. Bearer of the Silverite Wings of Valor.

Herald: The Iron Bull, leader of the famed mercenary company Bull’s Chargers. As the name might imply.

Herald (male PC): The Lord Inquisitor’s elven servant, Solas. Herald (female PC): The Lady Inquisitor’s elven serving man, Solas.

Herald: Her Ladyship Mai Bhalsych of Korse. Sera: (Snickers.)

(Cole has no introduction.)

Herald: Ser Cullen Stanton Rutherford of Honnleath. Commander of the forces of the Inquisition. Former Knight-Commander of Kirkwall.

Herald: Lady Leliana, Nightingale of the Imperial Court. Herald (recruited in DA: O): Veteran of the Fifth Blight. Herald (romanced Warden, Warden rules with Alistair): Mistress to the Queen of Ferelden. Herald (romanced Warden, Warden rules with Anora): Mistress to the Prince Consort of Ferelden. Herald: Seneschal of the Inquisition and Left Hand of the Divine.

Herald: And Lady Josephine Cherette Montilyet of Antiva City. Ambassador of the Inquisition.

The PC joins Gaspard on the steps below Celene.

Gaspard: Cousin. My dear sister.

Celene: Grand Duke. We are always honoured when your presence graces our court.

Gaspard: Don’t waste my time with pleasantries, Celene. We have business to conclude.

Celene: We will meet for the negotiations after we have seen to our other guests.

Gaspard: Inquisitor.

Gaspard bows and leaves.

Celene: Lord/Lady Inquisitor, we welcome you to the Winter Palace. Allow us to present our cousin, the Grand Duchess of Lydes, without whom this gathering would never have been possible.

Florianne curtsies.

Florianne: What an unexpected pleasure. I was not aware the Inquisition would be part of our festivities. We will certainly speak later, Inquisitor.

She turns and leaves.

Celene: You arrival at court is like a cool wind on a summer’s day.

Dialogue options:

General: It’s an honor. [1] +10 Court Approval (Vivienne in party)

General: The weather may turn foul. [2] +5 Court Approval

General: An assassin is here. [3] - 15 Court approval - Vivienne greatly disapproves

1 - General: It’s an honor. PC: I am delighted to be here, Your Majesty. Celene: We have heard much of your exploits, Inquisitor. They have made grand tales for long evenings. [4]

2 - General: The weather may turn foul. PC: Let’s hope the breeze does not herald an oncoming storm. Celene: Even the wisest mistake fair winds for foul. We are at the mercy of the skies, Inquisitor. [4]

3 - General: An assassin is here. PC: Someone here is working for Tevinter. Celene: To the uninitiated, the court is full of intrigues which might seem sinister, Inquisitor. But they are of little note. [4]

4 - Scene continues.

Celene: How do you find Halamshiral?

Dialogue options:

General: It’s lovely. [5]

General: I can’t do it credit. [6]

General: Call off the ball! [7]

5 - General: It’s lovely. PC: I’ve never seen anything to equal the Winter Palace. Celene: We hope you will find time to take in some of its beauties. Feel free to enjoy the pleasures of the ballroom, Inquisitor. We look forward to watching you dance. [8]

6 - General: I can’t do it credit. PC: I have no words to suffice. Halamshiral has many beauties, and I couldn’t do them justice. Celene: Your modesty does you credit, and speaks well for the Inquisition. Feel free to enjoy the pleasures of the ballroom, Inquisitor. We look forward to watching you dance. [8]

7 - General: Call off the ball! PC: You’re in danger. End the ball. Send everyone away. Celene: Inquisitor, we suspect that our court has overwhelmed you. You may benefit from a glass of wine and some time to recover. No doubt you will find something in the ball room to entertain you. [8]

8 - Scene continues.

The PC bows and leaves up the stairs. Leliana approaches them.

Leliana: Inquisitor. A word, when you have a moment.

She leaves.

Next: Speak with Leliana

[jellydishes]

tagged by @autistic-council-spectre for a game!

Rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have wips.

i am NOT tagging that many people uhhhh how about @heniareth, @notebooks-and-laptops, and @msarduenna

and oh man writing down ALL of them?????? okaY, gonna have to put these under a cut cause i have a slightly large number because adhd:

wip: botw natterings

wip: sequel to believe it's easier

wip: i am selfish, i am broken, i am cruel

wip: monsterfucking

wip: shark teef

wip: fenris writing

wip: all you have is your fire

wip: krem/cole

wip: varric/fenris fake dating

wip: female hawke/isabela

wip: botw

wip: heavy tools

wip: scifi thing

wip: stoke the flames

wip: young protag story

wip: michaelgerry

wip: fae gerry and vampire michael

wip: operation zev

wip: something dragon age

wip: silhouette

wip: fire emblem thing

wip: ff7 thing

wip: statement of tim spooky~

wip: step on a crack

wip: gerry gaem

wip: anders thing

wip: doctor who

wip: pacific rim

wip: malcolm/anders

wip: henrietta amell

wip: hotel california story

wip: morrigan/surana

wip: disco elysium story

wip: anders/bethany

wip: next chptr of to become something greater

wip: anders/varric

wip: sheik nonsense

wip: varric narrator thing

wip: smothered

wip: end tim

wip: garrett and varric

wip: ds9

wip: anders/malcolm hawke

wip: leliana/warden

wip: merrill and varric

wip: jongerry

wip: hoghtown funk2

wip: gerry and eric bonding tiem

wip: knight enchanter bethany

wip: double blind

wip: brosca/aeducan

wip: varric/nb cadash

wip: distortion michael meetcute

wip: michael thing

wip: warden commander bethany au

wip: story

wip: sorrow

wip: leliana/carver/zevran sexytimes

wip: andraste/solas/the maker

wip: jonmartin

wip: ludte

wip: in which arla rolls his eyes forever

wip: distortion sasha

wip: vast georgie dark melanie

wip: michael in a book

wip: jon/mike crackship

wip: not!sasha and melanie

wip: tma prompt/writing

wip: billy rocks

wip: mipha/revali

wip: roxas doohickey

wip: misfiled

wip: kingdom hearts story

wip: dirty things

wip: sten/warden

wip: uprooted

wip: switcheroo

[shaykai]

Four Inquisitiors AU doodlez-

[curiousthimble]

New Dolls! @cartadwarfwithaheartofgold snagged my last doll commission for the year, and it was a pure delight to complete her family of rogues.

Cole and Bea Cadash patterns are by me.

[pb1138]

Masonry and Wood Working

Apparently I am physically incapable of writing anything less than 5 pages anymore. Word of caution, this is like 4k words. 

Blackwall overhears a conversation and is crushed by what he hears. Iron Bull X Cadash, Blackwall X Cadash. Fluff, some minor angst, drinking mention. SFW. 

I’m not even halfway through the main storyline, and I’ve only managed to flirt with either Lis so I’m winging a few things. 

The bath was almost a little too hot, turning Gemma’s skin as pink as a Nug’s ass, but she didn’t mind. The elfroot leaves she put in the water were soothing her aches and pains. At first she had been a little peeved the Inquisition couldn’t find a Dwarf-sized tub (although, given the circumstances of an entire city burning to the ground, she sure as shit didn’t bring it up,) but the extra room had quickly grown on her. It was like a little pool, and she loved it. She and her traveling companions had returned earlier that day from Storm Coast, and the coldness from the rain had yet to leave her bones. 

She reached for her tea, took a long sip, and sighed, wiggling her toes. The setting sun was shining in through the high windows of her quarters. The light warmed her eyelids, until suddenly darkness overwhelmed her. She frowned and opened her eyes and let out a small squeak.

“Dammit, Cole, we’ve talked about this. You have to knock.”

She could see his eyes flicking to her face under his hat. “I need help.”

Leaning up so she was sitting, she gestured towards the chair in the corner. He dragged it over to her side and sat down, his elbows on his knees. “I…wish to know more about the nature of love. What it’s like.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Surely, Cole, you of all people should know best the answer to that question.” He shook his head and looked straight at her, unnerving her a little. She cleared her throat before she nodded. “Alright. Well. It’s different for everybody, I suppose. There are no two instances of love that are exactly the same. They’re as unique and individual as the people who feel it.”

“And for you?”

Gemma rolled her eyes. “Really, Cole?” Upon his insistent stare she nodded and continued. “For me, it’s never been the same twice. If I’ve ever even really been in love. There’s no way to know for sure, all you can know is whether or not what you’re feeling is pleasant, if it’s worth it or if it’s just a passing fancy. Sometimes, it can be difficult to know.”

Blackwall was ascending the stairs leading to the Inquisitor’s chambers, a small wooden flower in his hand, its petals lined with teal and filled with fuschia, like her eyes. He paused halfway up the marble steps, hearing her voice. Normally, Blackwall would never dream of eavesdropping on her. He respected her far too much to invade her privacy like that, but he couldn’t help the intrigue that filled him upon hearing her words.  

“I mean, for me, at first it was an attraction.”

“Sexual.” Nobody was sure whether Cole’s words were a question, statement, or an accusation.

Gemma sighed and sipped her tea. “Yes, dear, sexual. Though, that’s not how it starts for everyone, not always. And then, it’s gradual from there. Friendship. Flirting. And then. Well.” She lingered, implication in her voice.

Cole just stared at her.

“I’m not about to explain sex to you, Cole, I’m sure you can divine its mysteries for yourself.”

Blackwall smirked to himself, leaning against the wall.

“But, honestly, when I think of love it’s like building a wall.”

“A wall?”

Blackwall could hear the soft smile in her voice. “Yeah. You start out excited, imagining what it could be, and then gradually you get the foundation laid, the walls strengthened, some cracks come through, you fix it. And then, finally, when you know it’s true, it’s like the last brick has been fallen into place and everything is perfect, even with all the caked over cracks, with the mismatched bricks. It’s still perfect. And suddenly the world gets a little brighter.” She was smiling wider now, and he could hear the clinking of a teacup being set down. “Although I realize the irony of saying the world is brighter when you just built a wall. But it’s all I got right now. And, like I said, no walls are built exactly the same, some don’t get completed, some aren’t built well enough to last forever.”

There was a sloshing of water followed by the soft padding of her feet across the room, then a shuffling of drawers. “And, your wall, do you feel it will be completed to satisfaction?”

Blackwall perked up, tempted to look over the floor to see her reaction. Was this it? Should he even be here for this, to hear that she loved him before she told him? He decided that no, he shouldn’t, and he turned to leave, but the next words out of her mouth filled his veins with ice. 

“I think that Iron Bull and I have an ok foundation, yeah.”

Blackwall’s ears filled with the pounding of his own heart and his breath hitched. It took him a few moments to make his feet move, to make himself slip silently out of the room. He paused before the doorway to the main hall and looked down at the flower in his hand. He closed his eyes and gripped it tightly before he let out a soft sigh. ‘I should’ve known,’ he thought forlornly. He set the carving onto the railing just next to the door and left, each step harder than the last.

A few weeks passed, and it hadn’t escaped Gemma’s attention that something was up Blackwall’s ass. He wasn’t being rude or anything like that, but he was far more distant than usual. He had stopped meeting her eyes, and the smiles he gave her felt forced. And though she tried not to admit it, it tore her apart. In truth, she cared a great deal for the warden. He was not only a trusted advisor, an ally, but also a dear friend. It didn’t help that the tension between him and Iron Bull had also increased, and not only that but Gemma and Iron Bull’s relationship had begun to turn strained.

They had had a difficult few days. They’d traversed into the Deep Roads to aid the Legion of the Dead, and found themselves horribly under prepared. Honestly, it was a miracle that the three of them had survived what with their lack of potions and the absolutely ridiculous onslaught of enemies in the lower levels. But, survive they did, and now they were sat in a tavern drowning out their aches and pains.

Dorian had gone off “galavanting” as he put it ages ago, and Gemma and Iron Bull had retired to their shared room for the evening, leaving Blackwall to sit and fester on his own. At some point, her Holiness had wandered back down for another drink and by the time she found him, Blackwall was absolutely smashed. His face was flushed and splotched, and somehow even though he was sat against the wall, he was swaying.

Gemma raised an eyebrow and folded her arms as she approached the Warden. “You don’t look so good, Blackwall.”

“ANd you look…” he wanted to spit something bitter out, to tell her everything, to let her know how absolutely broken he was and how hard it was to see her with him. That goddamn Qunari. But, upon looking at her, at her softened expression, her slightly ruffled dark red hair set about her face with the fire behind her, a night dress hanging off one tattooed shoulder and reaching almost to the floor, he couldn’t bring himself to bear any malice against her. If he were to be truthful, he could pretend to be happy for her, because he needed to be happy for her, to want her to be happy. That’s the noble thing innit? It took him a long moment and a deep stare into his ale to finish his sentence. “Damn beautiful this evening, Your Worship.”

Gemma wasn’t sure what to make of that, of that shift in tone. She walked over and sat herself in the chair across from him, her feet dangling off the ground. She put her hands on the table and took a deep breath. “Blackwall, what’s been troubling you? Truthfully. Don’t give me any of that ‘old sparring injury acting up’ shit. I can see that something is troubling you. Let me help.”

Her voice was soft, floating over him like dew in the morning light. It helped that the tavern had long ago died down, no sounds left but the crackling of the fire and the occasional snore from the poor bastards passed out in their porridge. He refused to meet her eyes, to let her see the pain in them. It would be cruel and unethical to let her see how deeply in love with her he was, especially when she seemed so happy with the Qunari. He cleared his throat and took a swig from the now-stale ale and leaned back in his chair, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “I’ve just had word from Cumberland. My sister has passed.” It was a lie, one he was sure he’d kick himself for in the morning. After all, this woman was the most well connected person in the entirety of Thedas. It wouldn’t take much for her to find Liddy alive and well with her family in their childhood home. Hopefully, anyways. Come to think of it, it had been a while since he heard from or of her.

“Oh, Blackwall, I’m so sorry.” She reached across the table and grasped his hand with both of hers. He looked down at them and marveled at how remarkably soft they were given the circumstances. The mark upon her hand seemed to swirl under the skin like a softly glowing green snake. He cleared his throat and nodded in thanks, and she released him. “Is this what the past few weeks have been about?” she asked.

Past few weeks? Shit. She was more observant than he’d given her credit for. He recovered quickly and nodded again. “The crow came the day we got back from that mess in the Fallow Mire.” Another lie. He couldn’t believe his own gall. He should just tell her. It would be so much easier if she just knew. But no.

He finished off his ale and set the mug down a little too hard. She seemed to notice but said nothing of it, instead drawing her hands into her lap. “If you’d rather, you are more than welcome to go home, take some time to grieve.”

He shook his head and flashed her a fake smile, but even he wasn’t convinced by it. “Nah. I’ll be fine, Your Worship. I’d better retire, though, so if you’ll excuse me.”

Unfortunately for him, Blackwall hadn’t properly anticipated the strength of this tavern’s ale, and he took a few stumbling steps before he felt an arm about his waist and a hand guiding his to a shoulder. He looked down at his Inquisitor and was about to protest her helping him, but she gave him that look, the look that sent shivers of both excitement and fear down his spine. They walked to his quarters in silence, and she released him at the door. He stepped inside and paused with the door half shut. He looked her up and down before meeting her multi-colored gaze. “You really are beautiful, Gemma. Iron Bull is a lucky man.” His voice was soft, and both were surprised at his use of her name. Neither could recall a time he had done so before, and before she could remark on it he had shut the door.

Gemma stood there in the hall for a moment longer, partly listening to make sure he didn’t fall and hurt himself, but also to absorb what just happened. A small pit formed in her stomach as she ran over their conversation, and before she could bring herself to cry, Dorian burst through the doors downstairs, startling more than a few drunks. He was chatting loudly, a rather pretty man on his arm, and she sighed softly, shaking her head. She retired to her quarters and settled in bed beside her mercenary, not touching him. She watched the fire die out, and then spent a few hours more listening to the beginnings of dawn start stirring. Before she let herself fall asleep, she reached under her pillow and gripped the carved flower, the one the same colors as her eyes, and held it to her heart.

Another few weeks passed before another incident occurred. Unfortunately for her, the incident in question was a breakup. She wasn’t sure what exactly happened between her and Iron Bull to end things as violently as they did, but it was over. For sure, this time.

The entire castle had heard them yelling at one another, had heard the throwing of objects. The Inquisitor and the Qunari were known to break a few things every now and then, but never due to a fight. In fact, nobody in memory could recall a time when the two even so much as squabbled. Yet here they were.

After what seemed like an eternity, IB burst out of the door to her quarters and everyone who had gathered to eavesdrop had scrambled. After a few minutes of shock, Solas and Dorian set off on a quest to find Cole, to ask him to “help” the Inquisitor. Meanwhile, Varric, ever the observant one, set off for the stables.

The Grey Warden was sat by the fire, legs propped up, a relatively new hunk of wood and a knife in his hands. He was silent as he whittled away at it, but sat up upon hearing the Dwarf’s footfalls. He turned to look at him and smiled. “Varric, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Varric walked over to stand in front of Blackwall, his expression grim. “She needs you.”

Blackwall quirked an eyebrow and set his hands down. “Who?”

Varric rolled his eyes and crossed his hands across his chest. He nodded towards the castle. “Her. She and the big one had a fight, a bad one. You gotta go to her.”

Blackwall stared at him for a moment before turning back to his carving. “Not my place.”

“The hell it isn’t.” He looked back at the Dwarf who had dropped his hands in anger. He was pointing now, towards her tower. “That woman up there adores you. Out of all of us, you are her closest friend. Nevermind the fact you’re both so damn in love with each other you can’t even see it, but you need to be there for her. So put your warrior ego aside, march your ass up those steps, and take care of the woman you love.” Varric’s words had turned towards anger and frustration at Blackwall’s unwillingness to see the truth, but even he knew he meant no real malice towards the other man.

Blackwall stopped for a moment, staring down at his hands. “Is it that obvious?”

“What? That you love her? Oh, no, you’ve done a bang up job hiding it, really buddy none of us had any idea.” Sarcasm filled Varric’s words to the brim. “I mean, after all, pals go ‘round carving and painting flowers for their gal pal friends all the time, and then those gal pals carry it with them everywhere they go. Obviously, there’s no love there, just platonic adoration. I mean, are you serious right now? Of course it’s obvious. We’ve all known for months. Hell, we have a pool going on how long it’ll take you to woo her. I’ve got my money on two weeks from now, not that it matters, but I called it the moment the two of you met and you stopped that arrow. I did, ask Cassandra, all I would talk about for weeks.”

Blackwall looked back at him forlornly before he nodded and stood. “As usual, you’re right. At least about me. Alright. I’ll go talk to her.” He stood and as he passed, he patted the Dwarf on the shoulder and gave him a slight smile.

Varric watched him go before shaking his head. “What an idiot.”

As he climbed the steps to her chambers, he was reminded of the last time he did this, and he prayed against all hope it had a better ending this time.

He paused at the beginning of the marble stairs and cleared his throat, knocking on the wood of the archway before he started up. He poked his head up over the floor and called out, “Your Worship?”

At first he couldn’t see beyond the mess. Her clothes had been strewn, a chair smashed to bits in the corner, covers of her bed thrown out onto the balcony. It looked like a war zone, save a lack of blood. He finished the climb to the top of the stairs and he called out again, “Inquisitor?”

There was a stirring on the other side of the bed, and her hand waved over the top. “Go away.”

“Fat chance.” He crossed over to her and his heart ached. She was sat on the floor, knees about her chest, her hair a mess, makeup mussed from crying, almost obscuring her tattooing. He sighed softly and went to her, sitting on the edge of the bed. “What happened?”

She wiped her eyes furiously before she looked away. “We’ve broken up.”

“What, you and Iron Bull?” She nodded in response. “What happened? I thought your wall was coming along swimmingly.”  He wanted to reach out, to touch her shoulder, pull her hair back from her face, anything, but he daren’t. Instead, he leaned with his arms on his legs so he was closer to her level.

It was a long moment before she responded, but when she did she opened her palm. In it lay the flower that he had made her, a petal missing, the core cracked. She wiped her eyes again and sniffled. “I knew you must’ve heard all that. When I found this, I wondered why you’d leave it on the stair instead of bringing it to me and then I realized you must’ve heard me talking to Cole. I’m sorry.” He waved his hand dismissively but let her continue. “Bull and I got into a disagreement about the Qun and he threw the first thing he could grab. And after you worked so hard on it.”

Blackwall blinked at her before taking it from her palm, skin brushing hers. “Oh, it’s alright. I can fix it no worries.”

She shook her head and climbed to her feet. “That’s not the point.” She crossed over to her balcony and leaned against the railing, staring out over the mountains.

He set the flower down and followed. “What is the point then?”

She was silent for a while, the cold mountain air whipping her hair and tunic about. Blackwall came and leaned beside her, their arms almost touching. Her voice was quiet when she finally did speak. “I don’t love him.” Relief flooded every inch of his body, but he didn’t let it show. He let her continue. “I mean. It was fun, for a while, but it’s not… He’s not what I want. And then he broke the flower and I realized that what I want has been beside me this whole time.”

She turned to look at him, the afternoon sun shining in her eyes like mage fire. He turned towards her, still leaning, unsure if he was misinterpreting her or not. He didn’t have to wonder long before her fists found his shirt and she pulled her small frame into him, stretched up on the very tips of her toes to kiss him.

‘Maker above, is this really happening?’

He was quick to reciprocate, his arms wrapping around her. He lifted her up and set her on the railing, holding her tightly so she couldn’t fall. After a few moments, she broke the kiss, her cheeks flushed bright pink beneath her green markings. They were both a little out of breath, but she put a hand against his chest and another on his cheek. Her eyes flicked between his and she smiled, a smile full of love. “I’m sorry it took me so long to see it, to see you.”

He brushed his thumb against her cheek and stroked her hair back from her face. “For this moment, I’d have waited til this planet turned to dust. And probably even beyond then.”

She grinned and pulled his face back down to hers, her arms around his neck.

Dorian and Solas were clambering up the stairs, Cole in tow, before they stopped dead in their tracks. Dorian put a hand to his chest and looked at Solas with an open mouthed grin and pointed at them. “Do you see this?” he whispered.

Solas rolled his eyes but turned towards Cole and was surprised to find him smiling.

“The wrong wall.”

“What?” Dorian turned to look at the spirit.

“She was too busy trying to build her wall with Iron Bull over quicksand to notice the wall building itself upon stone behind her.”

“Have you any idea about what he’s talking?”

Dorian shrugged. “Not the faintest.”

The mages turned back to their Inquisitor, Dorian practically on the verge of tears.

Blackwall leaned back and let Gemma hop down from the railing. He looked down at her before he kneeled and took her hands in his. “I made a vow to fight by your side until all this was over. But, if you’d have me, I’d like to fight by your side until my dying breath.”

She smiled at him and nodded. “I’d like nothing more.”

Dorian couldn’t contain himself an let out a deep, “Awww,” causing both the Inquisitor and Warden to jump.

Gemma’s face grew a bright red and she glowered at them. “Doesn’t anybody in this damn keep knock anymore?!”

It took Blackwall months to gain the courage to propose. Between the fighting, the plotting, the recuperating, it just never seemed a good time. Not to mention that Gemma Cadash is the single most intimidating and powerful woman in all of Thedas. But when he did, it was as they both sat atop a boulder, overlooking a sun setting on a lake. They’d had a small picnic away from Dorian and Cole who were both in deep conversation back at camp.

“Your Worship…”

Gemma turned to look at him, an eyebrow quirked. “You know I hate it when you call me that.”

He smiled slightly but nodded. “Gemma. I’ve something to give you.”

“Oh?” Turning to face him completely, she smiled. “I’m afraid I’ve not gotten you anything.”

“You can give me an answer.” He fished around in his pockets before finding it—a small wooden box. He placed it in her palm and looked away bashfully. “I. Er. Well.” He shook his head and took a deep breath. “Your Worship, Inquisitor, Herald of Andraste.” His tone softened and he met her gaze again, opening the box. “Gemma. This life I lead…it’s not luxurious, not rich in anything but friendship. It’s certainly not peaceful. Hell I’ll be lucky to be alive this time next week. But, I wanted to ask if you would consider doing me the honor of marrying me.”

Gemma’s eyes went wide and she looked down before tears filled her eyes. Inside the box was a flower, smaller and more detailed than the last and breathtakingly beautiful. She looked back at him before she grinned and nodded. “Of course I would.”

He let out a breathy laugh and beamed, pulling her in to kiss her.

Back at camp, Cole stopped mid-sentence and smiled slightly. “The final brick,” he whispered.

Dorian quirked an eyebrow at him. “What?”

Cole shook his head and smiled knowingly.

[ohthesefaces]

In Your Heart Shall Burn

"I'm Cole. I came to warn you... To help."

[dapromptexchange]

The Inquisitor never romanced anyone, or they and their love interest have broken up, or their LI didn't come to Halamshiral. Whatever the reason, Cole can tell that the Inquisitor is lonely (not to mention stressed out and demoralized from everything that's been going on) and he offers to dance with them on the balcony so that they won't be alone.

Posted to DA Kink Meme on 2014-12-11 02:24 am

[inquisimer]

in the suffering

I fell behind yesterday, but I'm back with part 6 of the Avexis-as-Cole AU for @tranquilweek! As Haven falls and the Inquisition makes their escape, both Cadash and Avexis make sacrifices to save those they love.

read it on ao3 here!

Avexis & Female Cadash | Rated T | 2260 words | cw: self-sacrifice, canon-typical violence, minor fantasy racism

-

“Forces approaching! To arms!”

Alarm bells rang out over Haven, giving Avexis such a fright that she spilled her half-drunk ale out onto the snow. The pleasant buzz it had given her faded away as she and Varric stared out beyond the wall in horror. She could just barely see the tiny specks that must be the attackers—but she did not need to see them to feel their agony through the Fade. A horribly familiar agony.

It’s them.

“Who would—“ Varric started.

“The Templars,” Avexis cut him off, grabbing her staff and standing to run. “It’s the Templars we couldn’t save.”

Cadash was already at the gate when they arrived, listening to the commander’s assessment.

“Under what banner?”

“None—“

“It’s the Templars,” Avexis interrupted, breathless. “It’s the Templars we couldn’t save at Therinfall.”

“How could you possibly know that?” Cullen asked the question with anger, but Avexis saw the grief and fear that it disguised. She pressed her palm to her chest.

��I know,” she said, answering his question, but looking imploringly at Cadash. “Trust me.”

Cadash nodded. “I do. Cullen, give me a plan.”

“Haven is no fortress…”

Avexis stared at the village gate. The song was stronger, sickly sweet and singing its siren call. At Therinfall, she’d been able to see it as a sickness, to follow the growth of it within and pull it out by the roots. Now, as the Templars crested over the hill, their presence in the Fade was indistinguishable from the red lyrium in their veins.

They're lost , she thought, regret and despair choking her throat. Well, maybe not. Maybe if—

“Avexis, go with Blackwall—“

She snapped back to attention. “No! Please—if you’re going out there, I want to go too.”

Despite the care she had for her companions, Cadash was a pragmatic leader, and she knew how to make hard decisions. Her face was like stone, now. “No. It’s dangerous, and you’re still recovering. We can’t be carrying you.”

“You won’t be,” Avexis insisted. “I can hear their pain—it’s overwhelming. Let me help.”

“We’re not going out there to help them.” Cadash’s words were blunt, but it was a tired hand that ran down the short length of her braid. “If that’s what you’re thinking—“

“It’s not, not like that. I know you’re going to kill them—but the lyrium is rooted so deep, at this point a quick death is the only help they’ll get.”

“Maker’s breath,” swore Cullen, “That’s—Herald, we don’t have time for this. You must decide.”

Cadash studied Avexis’ determined face for just another breath. “Fine. You’re with me—Sera, with Blackwall, get people to the Chantry. And Avexis—“ she added, tossing the words over her shoulder as she turned. “If I tell you to run, to leave, you do it. Heard?”

Heart beating frantically against her ribcage, Avexis withdrew her dagger and nodded. “Heard.”

-

The dragon’s breath was still hot on the back of their necks as they ran through the gates. Haven was burning. Her people were dying.

“We have to help them,” Cadash shouted, running to a cabin nearly engulfed in flames. “Dorian—“

A well placed bolt cleared the debris, and Seggrit fled to safety as they faced a wave of red Templars that had broken through the outer wall. Bull broke through the tavern door and they rushed in to help Flissa—but Avexis froze. She cocked her head and caught the faintest, sobbing cry. She knew that voice.

“Minaeve,” she whispered. Fear gripped her, and she bolted, ignoring Cadash’s shout as she took the steps to the apothecary’s cabin two at a time.

Both the researcher and Adan were laid out prone, too injured to stand under their own power. In the middle of the clearing sat a number of clay pots that Avexis immediately recognized—explosives, ostensibly for Haven’s defense.

“The pots—“ Adan wheezed.

“I know,” Avexis knelt by Minaeve and pulled her arm over her shoulders so that they could stand. “But as long as—“

As long as there’s no active fire, she was about to say. But before she could get the words out, the dragon swooped above them with a vicious screech and with one horrible breath, set the cabins aflame.

“Andraste’s bloody tits,” Avexis hissed. Minaeve pushed at her shoulder.

“Leave me! You have to get to Adan, he’s too close to the pots, he’ll die!”

Avexis shook her head, clinging stubbornly to Minaeve’s hip and shuffling them closer to the Chantry. “I’m not leaving you. You—you—“

How could she explain? They were hardly the closest of friends—Avexis’ magic was too volatile for Minaeve to really trust her. But the researcher had done something no one else had bothered to do.

“You saved them,” Avexis managed, panting as her muscles groaned under Minaeve’s weight. “Saw them, when no one else did. Someone should save you, this time.”

Minaeve’s eyes flitted to the brand that still marred Avexis’ forehead, though it no longer kept her from the Fade. “I—thank you.”

“We’re far enough, I think,” Avexis said after a few more paces. She lowered Minaeve into a snowbank and looked back. Adan was still struggling, trying fruitlessly to move his broken legs and escape the blast radius.

“He’ll never make it—“ Minaeve began, but Avexis was already gone. She ignored the protest of her lungs as she sprinted back to Adan. But where it had been easy to support Minaeve, Adan was broader and heavier than both of the elves. To boot, he could offer no assistance with his legs as they were. The fire was spreading perilously close to the explosive barrels.

“Get out, girl,” Adan snapped. “Don’t both of us need to die!”

“No, no, we can make it—“

“We can’t—“

Their bickering had given the flames just enough time. Time that seemed to slow as Avexis watched in horror, unable to close her eyes the way Adan had. The trail of fire licked at the open lid of the nearest pot—

And extinguished with a hiss. An arrow, shot into the ground, sprayed up snow that doused the flame. Avexis blinked, mind not quite caught up to her eyes. She looked up and saw Cadash at the top of the stairs, bow at her side and murder in her eyes.

The fire was still coming, though—they needed to move. The dwarf came ‘round to Adan’s other side and between the two of them they carried the apothecary toward Minaeve.

“If we’re both alive in a few hours,” Cadash grunted, taking Adan’s full weight so that Avexis could help Minaeve the rest of the way to the Chantry, “we will have words.”

The mood inside the Chantry was dark, but so powerful was the holy atmosphere that everyone’s terror took on hushed tones. By the time Avexis saw Minaeve to the healers and returned, Cadash and the commander were locked in an irate stare. Then, Cadash caught sight of Avexis, who winced.

“That was the stupidest thing you could have done—“

“It was for a good reason!”

“It was still stupid,” Cadash scowled. “And it’s only the lack of time that’s keeping me from ripping you a new one.”

That was as good as forgiven, Avexis knew, though she couldn’t quite summon a smile. “What’s the plan?”

Cadash’s gaze darted to the commander and Avexis nearly missed the barest shake of her head. Cullen’s frown deepened.

“Roderick knows a way out,” Cadash said, gesturing to the brother who had been such a pest. There was a sister with him, wiping his clammy brow, but his skin was pale as only a dying man’s was. “He’s hurt, but he’s the only one who knows. I need you—” she caught Avexis firmly by the elbows “—to go with him. Help him lead the way. It’s the only chance anyone has of surviving this.”

Avexis nodded, already moving to take the sister’s place at Roderick’s side. “And what about you?”

Torchlight glinted off Cadash’s silver tooth as she grinned. “Don’t worry about me,” she said. “Just go.”

The pilgrimage path was meant to be walked in the summer for a reason, and it was hard going. But Roderick’s eye was keen, even as his life drained away with each step. He pointed out the landmarks, leaning heavily on Avexis as they went. She held out a potion—it would do little more than ease his pain, but the less pain he felt, the farther he could go before his body gave up completely.

Eventually, the last of the refugees—for what else could they be called, now—were out of the Chantry. Roderick, Avexis, and the advance group of scouts were high up on the mountainside when the call came from the commander.

“We’re clear! Fire the signal!”

An archer drew back his bow and a mage set the tip of his arrow ablaze. As it streaked up into the inky blackness, Avexis caught the commander’s eye.

“Where is she?” she asked, adjusting her grip around Roderick. Cullen just stared at her with pity, and grief, and shame. Realization sank cold over Avexis.

“No—no—“ she cried. She struggled for her tenuous control, biting hard on her tongue to keep her mind her own. But the Fade around them bent beneath her anguish—her anger—and she knew that she would not be able to hold on. Blood-spattered gauntlets caught her by the shoulders.

“She didn’t want to—but it was the only way,” Cullen said grimly, and Avexis appreciated the attempt at soothing, even as it failed to work. “I’m sorry.”

There was a whistling in the air, growing louder, and then a giant boulder struck the mountainside below them. The Frostbacks rumbled and belched forth an avalanche; snow and ice and rocks thundered down to bury Haven.

To bury Cadash.

“No!” Avexis cried again. Her cheeks were wet with tears, and she was undoubtedly jarring Roderick’s injury with her sobs, but she couldn’t help it. “She can’t—“

“Maker,” Cullen murmured. “Seat her by Your side in death.”

She wouldn’t want that, Avexis thought, bitter through her sorrow. Cadash would have wanted to be returned to the Stone. But the Chantry didn’t care about that. The Inquisition didn’t care about that. They didn’t care about her.

They never had.

“We need to move!” The commander was saying, striding forward decisively. “Clear these rocks, cut back that brush! We can’t stay here.”

“I’m sorry, child.” Roderick coughed, ragged and wet from the blood in his lungs. “She was…well. Her heart was true, and whoever sent her to us knew exactly what we needed.”

Avexis ground her teeth together. It had been Cadash’s last wish for her to keep Roderick alive long enough to save everyone else. That meant she absolutely could not stab him for his asinine comforts.

She stared down at the snow-covered village. What if she had survived? Cadash had stupid luck—if anyone could live through an avalanche, it was her. But she would be injured, surely, and alone. Alone, she would die as surely as if she’d been buried like Haven.

Avexis closed her eyes.

When they weren’t in the Fade, she couldn’t talk to Cole directly. She felt his presence in her soul, or around her heart, particularly when stress and emotion overtook her mind. But she knew that he could hear her, in a way, or at least understand her intention.

You could go to her, help her.

Hesitation, but no denial. And Avexis knew what gave him pause.

You would have to go as you. You would have to leave me.

Affirmation seeped through her. Avexis took a long, slow breath.

The cure for Tranquility was still shrouded in mystery; they knew so little about the specifics of Pharamond’s ritual, or how to apply it safely. But what they did know was that the spirit wasn’t meant to stay with the mage once Tranquility was reversed. In theory, they would touch the mage’s mind, and with the spirit healer’s help, their connection to the Fade would be restored, and the spirit returned to their realm.

Whatever Cole had done, whatever Regalyan had done, it had been off the cuff. Not wrong, really, but not quite right, either. And it meant that Cole had to stay with her for it to stick.

Avexis swallowed. There was no choice, really. Cadash had been prepared to give her life to make sure they survived. She deserved at least one person who was willing to do the same.

Go to her.

The warm comfort that was Cole fretted within her, but Avexis doubled down, thinking her stern determination at him.

Go. To. Her. Find her, and save her. We’re already safe—she needs you now more than I do. So go.

He knew she was right, but his apology was sorrow that lingered in her chest as he slipped through whatever avenue of the Fade only spirits could navigate.

And then it was gone.

She blinked, wiping away the tears on her cheeks, lest they give her a chill and set sickness in her bones. It would be impractical to fall ill when they all needed their strength to survive the mountains. The scouts had cleared the path as Roderick indicated, and Avexis straightened, adjusting her grip on his side for more security.

“Let us go, Chancellor,” she said flatly, voice utterly devoid of the agony from only a moment ago. His brow furrowed, confused. “We must see these people to safety.”

[queenaeducan-writes]

The Ascent

Chapter One: Second Watch

Pairing: f!Cadash & Solas (gen) Characters: Female Cadash, Solas Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition Other Tags: Dwarf Lore, Elvhenan Lore, Cadash Thaig, Cad’halash Thaig Summary: Thora has dreamed of visiting Cadash Thaig since she was small. After a chance discovery of a journal in the Deep Roads it seems her moment has finally come.

The question Thora glimpsed in Solas’ eyes the night before their final descent doesn’t fade with time. She’d hoped the hurricane of events that followed in the hours and days after would distract him, but as they rise from the belly of the Titan she sees its lingering shine.

At first it’s easy to pretend she doesn’t notice. With all that had unfolded in the past few days, no one could blame her. Renn dead, Valta gone, and the Titan—

The Titan.

She knows now why Cole calls things ‘knots.’ Everything’s all tangled up inside her, and prying one mess loose from another feels like a task more impossible than every victory that lies behind her, and every mountain that lies ahead. Pull one end and the other pulls tighter.

It doesn’t get easier when they stop. So long as they’re moving, the present is too loud for her to focus on her own ghosts. When she brings her hammer down upon a Darkspawn’s head, she’s not thinking about Valta. When she’s skirting the walls of the Deep Roads to find the right plce to turn, she’s not thinking about Titans.

But as they lay the perimeter of their camp, she lays her arms and armour down in a pile by the fire, and feels the weight of the day settle over her shoulders. It bears down on her heavier than any weapon she carries, speaks louder than the idle conversation that surrounds her, and she can’t outrun it anymore. At least, not for the night.

“Hey, Sunflower.” She barely feels Varric tap her shoulder, turning to see the concern reflected in his eyes. Always worrying about someone’s problems but his own. “You okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” she grunts, working her right shoulder muscles. “Just feeling that last fight, you know?”

“Yeah…” For a practised liar, he doesn’t put much effort into sounding convinced, but he lets her have it. She wants to thank him for it. Varric jerks his thumb over his shoulder, gesturing towards their companions. “Listen, one of us’ll take first watch tonight. You get some sleep.”

It takes a sorry amount of effort, but her lips twitch in a smile he won’t buy for a second. “Will do.”

Read the rest here!

[queenaeducan]

five favourite fics

tagged by @gaysolavellan tysm for tagging me ;v; these are all solas-related b/c i am confident in my ability to do one (1) thing relatively well although thanks to exchanges i am expanding my ao3 tags little by little. i even got a mass effect fic in there now.

so anyway.

Who Am I in Your Arms? | Other | T | Nonbinary Lavellan/Solas wip title: head shaving tw: suicidal ideation This has become my default answer for a fic I’m proud of. Solas and Ian mean a lot to me and I have a lot of Thoughts about Solas and mental health that I like visiting in fics, and this was the chance I got to write him confronting it in a barefaced way. Weaving that in with the reality of what his relationship with Ian has become just let me give it an extra twist of angst, even if it springs from loving and acceptance and even hope. It also let me talk about my headcanons regarding hair in Elvhenan (and specifically Solas’ hair and his relationship with it) in a natural way. There’s not a lot of dialogue as it’s mostly internal / descriptions but idk I think it’s neat.

Remembering Well | Gen | G | Solas & Varric Tethras wip title: solamancy zine Another work where Solas reckons with his relationship with Wisdom after its death! Funny how that happens, it’s like I’m consumed with what their friendship must have been like for Solas to have considered not returning to the Inquisition altogether upon its death. But anyway! I’m proud of this one b/c I liked it enough that I didn’t feel embarrassed that people paid money to receive this work in print. It was also just fun to write, I had the chance to explore what storytelling means to Solas and Varric, laying out in narration the reverence I hear in some of the stories we hear Solas tell in game. Writing friendships is one of my favourite things to do, so getting to explore Solas & Varric, Hawke & Varric, and Solas & Wisdom was a real treat.

Pride in Compassion | Gen | G | Solas & Cole wip title: cole & solas lmao god i swear some of my wip titles are fun Woops! Another gen fic. I started this fic as an exercise in writing Cole b/c I wanted to add him to my multimuse, and I figured playing him off of Solas would be a comfortable way to ease into it. Cole and Solas legit have one of my fave relationships in the series, I think people super underestimate how close they are. I’m proud of this one ig because I do like how I settled on Cole’s narrative voice and I’m really fond of how I ended it. I took the opportunity to do sprinkle some spirit and Elvhenan headcanons in there, too, which is never something I’ll skip over if I think there’s any possible way I can work it in.

Because I Asked | Other | Explicit | Nonbinary Lavellan/Solas wip title: sundress smut I was nervous to post this one because I don’t write nor indeed enjoy a lot of smut, but I did have a lot of fun writing it and I am still quite proud of it even though I don’t think I write sex in a way other people might find titillating. Which is fine b/c it’s mostly for me, anyway. I’m proud of it b/c I did publish it despite my nerves, and I actually think that the descriptions I wrote are some of my strongest. Idk I’m just very fond of every description of Ian and the apartment in particular because it’s dripping with Solas’ love, and the dynamics at play between them are deeply appealing to me lmao. I love whenever Ian is the more forceful one of the pair I literally never get tired of it.

To Feel Another’s Woe | Gen | T | Female Cadash & Solas wip: hinterlands battle tw: some kinda gross descriptions of violence but typical to the games Battle scenes are another thing I don’t write all too often, but I like the one I wrote in this. My main purpose of this fic was to establish the foundation that becomes Thora and Solas’ friendship. I ignore the fact that the “I’ll protect you” line in your first conversation with Haven is a romance line and have Thora say it, so I use this first real outing together as a chance for her to put some weight behind the “However I had to” response when Solas questions how she’ll protect him. It’s a throughline that continues into DA4 as Thora vows to prove him wrong and save him from himself. Getting to introduce her past as a smuggler of mages out of the Circle also is important to her hero’s story. I love Thora a whole bunch and her friendship with Solas is actually what made me fall in love with him, so getting to write the early days of what would become a defining friendship in their lives?? Chef’s kiss...

Tagging: @apeacebone, @mercenarysexuality, @rosella-writes, @dreadfutures, @darethshirl, @ whoever else wants to brag on themselves by all means @ me!

[jellydishes]

tagged by @illusivesoul, tagging @more-cardigan-than-woman, @notabloodmage, and @dismalzelenka

Rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have wips. (You can make your own post or reblog this one!) This isn’t just for writing either. Sketch titles? Comics? DnD campaigns? If you have an unfinished project, it counts!!

wip: To Become Something Greater

wip: merrill and varric

wip: krem/cole

wip: i am selfish, i am broken, i am cruel

wip: next chapter of tbsg

wip: leliana/warden

wip: jongerry

wip: hf2

wip: michaelgerry

wip: brosca/aeducan

wip: jump and a twist

wip: silhouette

wip: heavy tools

wip: morrigan and zevran

wip: michael thing

wip: distortion michael meetcute

wip: female hawke/isabela

wip: varric/cadash

wip: end tim

wip: warden commander bethany au

wip: anders/malcolm hawke

wip: step on a crack

wip: bethany getting pissed

wip: all you have is your fire

wip: loghain and mahariel

wip: ludte

wip: leliana/carver/zevran sexytimes

wip: andraste/solas

wip: bethany journal story

wip: jonmartin

wip: in which arla rolls his eyes forever

wip: varric narrator thing

wip: morrigan/surana

wip: knight enchanter bethany

wip: varric/fenris fake dating

wip: stoke the flames

wip: jon/mike crackship

wip: gerry&eric bonding tiem

wip: statement of tim spooky~

wip: billy rocks

wip: fae gerry and vampire michael

wip: stuff with tim

wip: gerry gaem

wip: garrett and varric

wip: ds9

[shaykai]

I'm figuring out who gets to marry who

Dragon Age Inquisition except all four of them live and Cassandra loses her mind trying to figure out how the four of them are connected (spoilers: they don't even know eachother)

[dapolyshipping]

Pinch Hits

We have two pinch hits up for grabs!

Due: Both pinch hits have a tentative due date of the day before Work Reveals Saturday, November 12, 2022 or sooner.

Reminders: You do not have to be signed-up to the exchange to claim a pinch hit, but you must be willing to produce one fic of at least 1000 words or one fanart with at least clean lineart for ONE of the ships listed below. You should have an AO3 account, or be willing to sign-up for one.

To Claim: Contact the mods via one of the methods listed on our pinned post.

You can find details below the cut. Please be sure to read the requests carefully before you claim.

Pinch Hit #1: Settiai

ALL REQUESTS:  Fanart or Fanfic; Any Ratings

AutoAO3 Request | Letter

SHIPS:

▸ Request 1: Female Amell/Cullen Rutherford/Female Surana, Female Aeducan/Female Brosca/Gorim Saelac/Gorim Saelac's Wife, Female Mahariel/Female Surana/Female Tabris (Dragon Age) ▸ Request 2: Cremisius "Krem" Aclassi/Cole/Maryden Halewell, Cremisius "Krem" Aclassi/The Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus, The Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus/Cullen Rutherford ▸ Request 3: Alistair/Female Amell/Cullen Rutherford, Alistair/Cullen Rutherford/Female Surana, Jowan/Lily/Female Surana (Dragon Age) ▸ Request 4: Ameridan/Female Lavellan/Solas, Anders/Male Hawke/Karl Thekla, Donnic Hendyr/Aveline Vallen/Wesley Vallen ▸ Request 5: Anders/Fenris/Female Hawke (Dragon Age), Anders/Fenris/Male Hawke (Dragon Age), Anders/Female Hawke/Sebastian Vael ▸ Request 6: Bhelen Aeducan/Female Aeducan/Rica Brosca, Alistair/Anora Mac Tir/Cailan Theirin, Anders/Bethany Hawke/Carver Hawke ▸ Request 7: Anders/Nathaniel Howe/Sigrun/Velanna, Nathaniel Howe/Sigrun/Velanna, Anders/Nathaniel Howe/Sebastian Vael ▸ Request 8: Anders/Female Hawke/Karl Thekla, Dorian Pavus/Cullen Rutherford/Female Trevelyan, Female Cadash/The Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus ▸ Request 9: Alistair/Female Cousland/Anora Mac Tir, Alistair/Female Cousland/Leliana (Dragon Age), Alistair/Female Cousland/Nathaniel Howe ▸ Request 10: Female Adaar/Blackwall/Josephine Montilyet, Blackwall/Cullen Rutherford/Female Trevelyan, Female Lavellan/Cullen Rutherford/Solas

Pinch Hit #2: enigmalea

ALL REQUESTS: Fanart or Fanfic; Any Ratings

AutoAO3 Request | Letter

SHIPS:

▸ Request 1: Anders/Cullen Rutherford/Solas, Anders/Dorian Pavus/Cullen Rutherford, Anders/Dorian Pavus/Solas ▸ Request 2: Anders/The Iron Bull/Cullen Rutherford, Anders/The Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus, Anders/The Iron Bull/Solas ▸ Request 3: Dorian Pavus/Cullen Rutherford/Solas, The Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus/Cullen Rutherford, The Iron Bull/Cullen Rutherford/Solas ▸ Request 4: Cillian/Female Lavellan/Solas, Renn/Solas/Valta (Dragon Age), Female Lavellan/Cullen Rutherford/Solas ▸ Request 5: Anders/Male Hawke/Cullen Rutherford, Anders/Arishok/Male Hawke, Anders/Male Hawke/Karl Thekla ▸ Request 6: Male Aeducan/Anders/Zevran Arainai, Male Aeducan/Anders/Zevran Arainai/Nathaniel Howe ▸ Request 7: Female Hawke/Varric Tethras/Sebastian Vael, Brother Ferdinand Genitivi/Laudine/Philliam Trevelyan, Dorian Pavus/Cullen Rutherford/Rylen ▸ Request 8: Male Lavellan/Nonbinary Lavellan/Solas, Dorian Pavus/Cassandra Pentaghast/Male Trevelyan, Alistair/Female Cousland/Morrigan (Dragon Age) ▸ Request 9: Anders/Male Hawke/The Iron Bull, Anders/Male Hawke/The Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus, Anders/Male Hawke/The Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus/Cullen Rutherford

[potatowitch]

Hawke as Companion

Template by @little-lightning-lavellan

Is your OC a Companion in the Dragon Age series? What would it be like for a player to select them to join their party for quests (or romance them, perhaps? 👀)

I did originally plan on doing this for my Inquisitor but, as always, I've got Hawke brainrot instead, and I figured writing some companion interactions would be so much more interesting with her as a companion than my Lavellan. This got .... very long.

You have selected RIAN to join your party!

Race: HUMAN

Gender: FEMALE

Class: MAGE

Specialization: BLOOD MAGE

BACKGROUND

Marian Elaine Hawke, known also as “Rian”, “Chuckles”, “Champion of Kirkwall” and “Hawke, NO” was born in 9:06 Dragon to Malcolm and Leandra Hawke. Despite having to keep her father's magic a secret, she was never led to believe that magic was anything but a gift. Therefore, she spent much of her younger years experimenting to see if she could produce magic, eventually managing at age 9 to light the fireplace with a tiny fireball.

Growing up, she was attached to Malcolm at the hip - the two of them shared not only their magic but their senses of humor and general chaotic energy.

After the Hawke family fled Lothering during the Blight, Hawke joined Athenril’s smugglers to pay off her entry into Kirkwall. As soon as she met Varric at the start of Act 1, they became inseparable best friends - Hawke often cites Varric as her soulmate and the platonic love of her life. During the Deep Roads expedition, Carver became infected with the Blight, and with the help of Anders, Hawke was able to lead him to the Grey Wardens so he could join their ranks.

Over the years, she developed close relationships with most of her companions except for Aveline and Sebastian. Her friendship with Merrill eventually developed into a committed romance, and Hawke started to practice blood magic after recognising that Merrill could do so without being "evil". The two of them eventually also developed feelings for Isabela, and as such she joined their romance as well.

By Act 3, Hawke had become a staunch supporter of mage rights, a dedicated member of the Underground, and wholeheartedly supported Anders’ choice to destroy Kirkwall’s Chantry.

Following the destruction of the Chantry, Hawke and her friends fled Kirkwall, splitting up despite Hawke desperately wanting them to remain together. Isabela and Merrill chose to remain with Hawke, and the three of them traveled across the Free Marches, occasionally running into Anders and assisting him in rescuing mages from rebelling Circles. Eventually, Isabela managed to acquire a new crew, and her partners were more than happy to sail with her as she established herself once again as the Queen of the Eastern Seas.

INQUISITION

Depending on the player’s choices in Here Lies The Abyss, Hawke can be convinced to stay and help the Inquisition further instead of accompanying the remaining Wardens to Weisshaupt, becoming a full companion. She will move to sit with Varric by the fire in the main hall. Hawke will also be present in Varric’s companion cutscene where he invites the Inquisitor to play Wicked Grace.

Upon first being recruited to the Inquisition, Hawke’s specialisation is not available - when automatically leveled, she will put points primarily into the Inferno and Storm trees. Her unique specialisation, Blood Mage, only becomes available if the Inquisitor has allied with the mages at Redcliffe. At that point, Hawke will initiate a conversation with the Inquisitor about their opinions on blood magic, and if the Inquisitor states that they have no problem with it, her specialisation will open. Otherwise, she will refuse to admit her use of blood magic to the Inquisitor.

At this point, Hawke will also speak more openly about her support of Anders. She will eventually admit that they are still in contact, though she won't tell the Inquisitor anything that could give them an idea of Anders’ whereabouts.

Her specialisation is not open to the Inquisitor, however Hawke can offer to teach a mage Inquisitor "a neat trick", which will give the player the choice to replace their current Focus ability with Hawke's.

BLOOD MAGE

Upon unlocking Hawke's specialisation, she will gain a large increase to her Constitution but her mana bar will become considerably shorter, and conventional healing effects will only operate at 25% efficiency. If she is out of mana, she will automatically revert to using her health pool to power her spells instead.

Her spell tree is very similar to the Dragon Age 2 Blood Mage tree, however it does not include the Blood Slave ability - it is instead replaced with Blood Bomb, which is a variant of Walking Bomb. Instead of applying a damage over time curse to a target, Hawke channels a spell that corrupts the targets' blood from the inside until the target dies - at which point they explode, doing damage to nearby enemies. This spell continually consumes Hawke's mana and health while it is being channeled.

Her Focus ability is Major Sacrifice, a variant of the Knight-Enchanter's Resurgence. Instead of healing the party to full health and providing an ongoing healing aura, Major Sacrifice will instead heal the party to full health but take 25% of Hawke's current health, and will provide an aura of ongoing damage to nearby enemies, converting their health into health for the party.

VARRIC'S PERSONAL QUEST IN VALAMMAR

If the Inquisitor brings Hawke to Valammar, she will be suspiciously quiet throughout the quest - though she will pipe up to complain about the Darkspawn. Following the reveal that Bianca shared the location of the thaig, Hawke will be furious and will argue with her.

Upon returning to Skyhold and speaking to Varric, the cutscene will begin in the middle of a conversation between him and Hawke.

HAWKE: You deserve better, you know. VARRIC: Yeah, you've said that before. HAWKE: It bears repeating. As many times as it takes to get it through your thick head. You deserve so much better. VARRIC: *sigh* Thanks, Chuckles.

APPROVAL AND ROMANCE

Hawke is not romanceable, though she welcomes playful flirting from a female Inquisitor. She will eventually initiate a conversation where she makes sure the Inquisitor isn't expecting the flirting to go anywhere further, as she is already in a relationship.

RIAN APPROVES OF: Supporting mage freedom, open-mindedness with magic and spirits, sarcasm, humor, stealing from nobility, pranking nobility, loyalty to your friends, being nice to Varric, terrible puns.

RIAN DISAPPROVES OF: Chantry rhetoric, the Circles, Templars, Tranquility, authority, betraying your friends, ignorance, pomposity, being mean to Varric.

Hawke will not leave the Inquisition, even if her approval is at Hostile. When questioned about this, she will say:

HAWKE: Did you miss the part where Corypheus is my responsibility? I’m going to fix my fuck-up, Inquisitor. If I have to put up with you while I do it, then, well … I’ve always said the Maker has a sick sense of humor.

TRESPASSER

Following Corypheus' defeat, Hawke leaves the Inquisition to rejoin Merrill and Isabela.

Once Trespasser is started, Hawke can be found accompanying Varric and Bran to the Winter Palace.

During exploration of the Eluvians, if both Hawke and Varric are in the party, they will briefly discuss how excited Merrill would be by all this, and Hawke will say "You'd better be writing all this down, Varric."

She will approve of redeeming Solas, though she won't disapprove if the Inquisitor decides they would rather kill him.

High Approval

If Varric has chosen to give the Inquisitor an estate in Kirkwall, Hawke will pipe up during the conversation saying she's excited to be neighbors, offering to give the Inquisitor the key to her wine cellar - though she will complain that Varric has never given her control of the harbor, to which Bran will mutter "thank the Maker".

Regardless of the Inquisition's fate, Hawke will return to her lovers, occasionally keeping in touch with the Inquisitor via letters.

Low Approval

If the Inquisitor has low approval with Hawke, they will be informed that she left as soon as the Inquisitor stepped back out of the Eluvian following the final confrontation with Solas. The epilogue slides will state that her whereabouts are, once again, unknown.

COMBAT COMMENTS

Killing an enemy

And stay down!

One more for me. We’re keeping score, right?

Have at you!

How’s my hair looking? (COMBAT ENDS)

I wonder what’s in their pockets. (COMBAT ENDS)

Oh, ew. I’m not cleaning that up. (COMBAT ENDS)

Low Health

This is going badly!

Little help, maybe?

Why are none of you healers?

This hurts! This really hurts!

Low Health (Companions)

INQUISITOR: You good over there, boss?

VARRIC: Varric, that blood better not be yours!

COLE: Help the kid!

CASSANDRA: They’re swarming the Seeker!

BLACKWALL: Hang on, Beardy!

IRON BULL: Bull’s in trouble!

Fallen Companions

INQUISITOR: Shit! Trevelyan/Lavellan/Adaar/Cadash is down!

VARRIC: Don’t you dare leave me now, Varric!

COLE: Cole! No!

CASSANDRA: Seeker is down! How did they manage that?

SOLAS: Come on, Solas!

DORIAN: Help Dorian!

SERA: Awful quiet, isn’t it? Oh shit, Sera!

LOCATION COMMENTS

(first time seeing a High Dragon) *laughing* "Oh, this will be fun!" IF VARRIC IS IN THE PARTY: "Hawke, the last time you fought one of these you nearly died." "Yeah, but I didn't die. That's the important thing."

(approaching a campsite) "Well ... I've slept in worse places."

(when collecting a Shard) "Let me guess. We have to collect a stupid amount of these for a really stupid reason, and they're all going to be in really stupid, hard to reach places. *sighs* I love adventuring."

HINTERLANDS

"Have we been here before? Feels like we've been here before."

(upon unlocking the cabin in Redcliffe with the Tranquil skulls) "That's ... fucking Maker. Tranquil have always made me uncomfortable but ... they were still people. They were still... shit, I need a second."

FALLOW MIRE

"Eugh, that smell! Worse than my dog when he's eaten cheese, and that's saying something."

(upon killing Widris) "Something, something, crazy mages ... "

"Oh, walking corpses. That's nice."

STORM COAST

(upon seeing the dragon vs giant fight) *laughing* "Oh, that's brilliant!"

"Not to sound like Varric, but why are there so many bloody hills around here? My legs hurt."

EXALTED PLAINS

"Maker, I hate Orlais."

(finding Valorin's corpse) *sighs* "Might sound a little hypocritical coming from me, but ... blood magic is not for the careless."

(seeing the ruined bridge, if Varric is in the party) "Hey Varric - " "Don't you dare, Hawke." "C'mon, please?" "You are not tossing me!" "Spoilsport."

EMERALD GRAVES

"I've always thought it was beautiful how the Dalish bury their dead under a tree sprout. Like ... I don't know, maybe death doesn't have to be the end."

HISSING WASTES

"There's sand in ... places. So many places."

"Have I said I hate sand? Because I hate sand."

EMPRISE DU LION

(seeing Red Lyrium) "Maybe don't touch that. It'll do all kinds of weird shit to you."

"I'm fucking freezing. When can we go home?"

(seeing Red Lyrium giants) "What the fuck?"

(Elfsblood River rift - near the lady with titsicles) *giggles*

SHRINE OF DUMAT

"I'm getting the weirdest sense of deja vu." IF VARRIC IS IN THE PARTY: "You're not the only one."

DEEP ROADS (THE DESCENT)

"Why do I always end up back in the Deep Roads? Am I cursed?"

COMPANION COMMENTS

VARRIC: "I was worried about what would happen if I brought her here, but ... it's nice to have Hawke around again."

CASSANDRA: "I have to admit, I do admire the Champion. A woman who built herself up from nothing to defeat the Arishok ... there's a certain romance to Varric's stories about her."

SOLAS: "I've been informed that Varric also calls Hawke "Chuckles". I ... don't see how we are similar."

DORIAN: "Hawke? Oh, I like her. She's not as daft as she acts."

BLACKWALL: "The other night, I found her getting teary-eyed in the tavern over how much she misses her dog. Don't quite know what to make of that, really."

VIVIENNE: "She is a powerful mage, I'll give her that, but she's also a naive fool. No wonder Kirkwall fell to pieces around her."

IRON BULL: "She's fun. Got a lot going on in that head she doesn't talk about, though."

COLE: "Fleeing, fighting, falling. Failed father, failed mother, failed Beth and Carver too. Fire and freedom, and she knows it's right but it still feels wrong. Old wounds that never healed, sometimes she can still taste the blood in her mouth. You chose to save her. She wishes you chose differently."

SERA: "Thought she'd be scary, but she makes me laugh. Hasn't let owning a mansion get to her head, either, and have you seen those arms? She's strong."

CULLEN: "I'd ... rather not talk about her, if you don't mind. We've a less than friendly history."

JOSEPHINE: "Lady Hawke is charming, certainly, but I cannot imagine her being popular amongst her neighbours in Hightown. She throws the very concept of decorum bodily out of the window."

LELIANA: "I knew her when she lived in Lothering. She didn't seem to like the Chantry much, but she was always sweet, and her jokes made me laugh. It's a little odd to see the woman she's grown into."

TRIVIA

Malcolm also made sure he trained Hawke in using a sword. She's not very good at it, preferring instead to use her staff as a melee weapon if an enemy gets too close.

She has a mean right hook.

Her and Varric have matching tattoos on their left buttcheeks.

Despite being Ferelden and adoring her own mabari, Hawke has a preference for cats.

She's awful at singing. She sings a lot anyway.