#griffonheart spoilers

[danceswithdarkspawn]

Find the Word

Uh. Hello. I haven't done one of these in a while. Also I got slapped twice by @oceangirl24 and @fattybattysblog so thank you lovelies for that. Gonna do both in one go so lots of words.

Words given: chowder, clatter, visage, eternal, skeptical, irate, juggernaut, lime, superhero; reach, blood, metal, snicker, smirk, cough, hack, slice

Words for others: bird, nova, twilight, rain, fire, harsh, quiet, echo

Gonna Open Tag this because I think all my usual tagging suspects have played, but if you see this and would like to play, go ahead!

Two of Swords:

She took little pleasure in the mundane return routine she established months ago, something she did to calm her nerves after long hours of travel. The scrape of a brush across her gelding’s hide reminded her of shifting sand underfoot. Maker, she was sick of sand. The training yard’s clatter told her of Inquisition forces crashing against Adamant’s walls. An errant war cry from some children playing in the garden transformed into a dragon’s Red Lyrium roar, and she swiftly left for quieter spaces.

Broken Bird, chapter 3:

Leliana’s voice breaks me from my reverie. When I meet her eyes, they are brimming with a question. The fire frames her features, leaving no space hollow. There is something there in her visage, something beyond that of an unwitting Chantry Sister; a knowing that I cannot quite describe. Her eyes are piercing, staring through me, and I can feel my throat tighten. “Then why are you afraid?”

Stricken Canticles:

Reverences thick with the haze of sleep spill unendingly from her lips; her fingers leave trails of eternal flame in their wake. But she succumbs, spent, leaving me to marvel at her form in the wan light.

I’ve never been keen on religion. But I would defile this place again and again if only to worship her.

looooots of reaches Griffonheart Bonus Chapter:

Her boot hit something solid, and the back of her knee nearly buckled against some piece of furniture, and she sighed. Finally, Leliana thought, reaching back to catch herself on what she expected to be the edge of the bed. She instead found the back of a couch. It'll have to do, she thought, grabbing Ariel by the collar and collapsing onto it.

also lots of blood, for example, Broken Bird, chapter 9:

Morrigan laughs. I look up to find her staring down at her bandaged hand, fussing with the cloth. “Truly, I would never have guessed that a Grey Warden could have such an aversion to blood. Did you not imbibe darkspawn blood to become what you are?”

“What you did was blood magic,” I hiss. 

“Maybe it was,” she admits. Her arms recross, and she eyes me critically. “‘Tis a skill of Flemeth’s, and it served well, did it not? She will always bear the scar, but the wound is closed, and she is not at risk of infection.” Morrigan’s eyes search for a moment. “Why? Would you have preferred I did nothing? What if it spread to her blood? What if—”

...also a lot of metal, sensing a pattern, Broken Bird, chapter 10:

A scream echoes throughout the chapel, loud and bitter and rattling. Akin to a dragon; the dragon that watches with unknowable eyes. My fists feel raw against the floor, catching shards, pulling my hair, flailing against anything and everything. Bone breaks, glass shatters, metal groans underneath an ire that could destroy me utterly.

Broken Bird, chapter 11:

“You look like you’re in love, is all.”

My throat closes and I sputter, spewing out the drink. It hisses and flares dramatically against the fire, creating a torrent of flame in its wake. My throat, eyes and nose sting as I cough into my elbow. When I glare over at Eran, his expression is split between concern and mirth, but he breaks into laughter after a moment. “Fuck you,” I mumble into my arm.

Also from chapter 9:

“I have not told you to do anything.”

“Then what the fuck do you want?”

“‘Twas never about what I want, Warden. What do you want?”

I recoil. I can’t think past the scathing words that hack away at my throat, threatening to spill free. There is plenty I want, more things than I care to describe, or think about, or anything else. 

But more than anything, I think I want silence. I want its comfort and its peace. Things I’ve not known in a lifetime. 

“I don’t know.”

[danceswithdarkspawn]

wip wednesday

Her fingers lingered along the set of black, spidering veins. At first, she thought it was just a trick of the light. But the longer she looked, the starker they were against Ariel's skin.

But then Ariel spoke, startling her. "Fell out of a tree."

Leliana blinked. "You...fell out of—" Leliana looked back down. A set of scars splintered down Ariel's back. She leaned out of the way as Ariel pulled her shirt back over her head. "Why were you in a tree?"

"Had to run from a bear."

Leliana quirked a brow. "Don't bears climb trees?"

"Yeah, that's why I fell out of the tree."

[danceswithdarkspawn]

A little something I did for the discord a while back. The prompt was "A getting caught undressing B with their eyes." Post-Trespasser; at the very end of Griffonheart (so some spoilers).

The Winter Palace is about as stuffy as the last time I was here. Hard to think it's been nearly a decade; I can't remember what Leliana and I attended for. The outfits people wear to these things have only gotten more ridiculous, and I'm not entirely sure how that's possible. But assessing crimes of fashion is not why I'm here.

I adjust my mask for what feels like the hundredth time within the space of an hour, pushing through crowds of partygoers. This place is like a Maker-forsaken labyrinth. It only takes about a dozen doorways, a little backtracking, and some subtle eavesdropping, but I finally find my way, and I find what I'm looking for.

It's hard to mistake her for anyone else. It's not exactly a high bar; the Inquisition and its people are the only ones in attendance not in masquerade attire.

But that red hair...damn, I'd recognize her anywhere. She's got it up in some kind of chignon, all the way off her neck. The stark red of her hair looks good against the black of her Inquisition dress. The attire looks stiff on the other Inquisition members I've spotted throughout the evening, but she somehow makes it look good, like the edges just...fit her perfectly without being severe. The whole getup is serious, modest, leaving very little to tantalize, but I know better.

I don't want to think about the effort it would take getting all that off. Bet it'd look better on some noble's parlor floor, though.

And when she turns from her colleagues to gaze across the garden— Maker, the look on her face. Hard, serious, her eyes sharp; she's working. There's something exhilarating in watching the way she carries herself, the way she effortlessly moves, everything with deliberation.

I can feel my heart start to gallop when she scans the gathered crowd, and my fingers clutch at the balcony railing, wondering if she'll spot me at my hiding place.

But I'm brought from my reverie as some fellow stumbles onto the balcony with me. Gaudy, wearing a high-collared jacket a size too big, golden masked, and reeking of strong spirits, he heavily leans on the rail next to me. He leans a bit close and says in a thick Orlesian accent, "I'd be careful of that one, were I you." He points a little haphazardly. "The Left Hand. They say many have met their end by her."

I decide to humor him. "Really? Is she that dangerous?"

He lets out a grunt and nods. "She catches you looking, bats those doe eyes, leads you away, and before you know it-" He lifts a fist to his collar, and runs his thumb across his neck. "You're food for the gutter."

I look back down into the garden, finding her and the other Inquisition members walking back into the palace.

A smile that creeps at the edge of my mask. I push away from the balcony, intending to pursue her. "I think I'll take my chances."

[danceswithdarkspawn]

Last Line/Heads Up 7 Up

*crash lands onto tumblr*

Hello, I am a disaster coming here on this *checks calendar* fine Saturday morning to participate in the tumble games.

@justanotherpersonwhowrites tagged me earlier this week and I am happy to report I actually wrote something.

tagging to play: @kayedium-writes, @mikaharuka, @oceangirl24 + open tag because I'm tired and I love you all, if you see this participate if you can/want to

"Do you remember the first time we danced like this?" Ariel murmured to break the silence. Leliana drew back just enough to properly look at her partner. The moonlight coming in through the rookery's small window and the opening in the roof was the only illumination in this place, and it danced slowly across Ariel's face as they made lazy turns. It was a pale silver that lit up her sea-storm eyes, made them wax and wane; found peaks and valleys and war wounds and all the familiarity in them. It was a sharp contrast to the firelight that heralded the first of their many dances, which laid bare trepidation and vulnerability. She was on the burning edge of change then, fighting submission even while the flames swallowed her whole.

Leliana's fingers slid into the hair at Ariel's nape, coursing through it. It never ceased to amaze her how easily it slipped through her fingers. "How could I forget?" she quietly answered, pressing their foreheads together. A stifled laugh filtered from Ariel's lips and her arms tightened around Leliana's waist.

"Do you wanna know what I was thinking then?" she said.

"What?"

"I was thinking, 'Maker, I hope I don't step on her toes,'" she answered, and Leliana laughed a little. "You know what else?" Leliana let out a questioning hum, letting herself lean into Ariel's presence. "'Damn, she's pretty.'"

A smug grin pulled at Leliana's mouth, and she turned her head until her lips met flesh. "Is that all?"

"Mm, one more thing." One of Ariel's hands came up and cupped her face, guiding Leliana to look at her. Their steps paused, suspended in the small space between them, and Leliana felt like she could drown within Ariel's argent eyes. She'd gladly go, if told to.

Ariel leaned forward until their lips brushed. "'I really want to kiss her,'" she whispered.

[danceswithdarkspawn]

six sentence sunday

i'm ignoring it's almost midnight where i am

"You have an obligation to the Order—" "My obligation was over once the Blight ended," Ariel snarled at him. "The Order told me to rebuild Ferelden's Wardens. I did that my way. I'm not going to hand them over to you so you can sign their death warrants." "My orders were to bring you back; the others will reconvene in time."

[danceswithdarkspawn]

Her faith was a frayed carmine rope, hanging on by a single thread that, Maker help her, could destroy her if it broke.

Leliana eventually drifted back to the rookery. She quietly oversaw her delegations, assisting where she saw fit, but careful not to give solutions outright. Careful with herself not to skirt the knife’s edge of Marjolaine’s teachings. It was a good opportunity to foster fledgling seneschals; once the Inquisition was over, Leliana had no intentions of remaining in the fold.

Though, in truth, she may not have a choice. 

She stood a short distance away from the gathering of her agents, staring passively at the Andrastian shrine erected in an alcove. An unsophisticated thing, paling towards the Grand Cathedral or even the proper chapel in the gardens. And yet it was hers; a reminder of her wavering faith and the sin she committed in service to the Divine.

The Divine whose death held a knife to her throat, whose death she could not mourn, because there was no room to do so. Her faith was a frayed carmine rope, hanging on by a single thread that, Maker help her, could destroy her if it broke.

Leliana carefully relit the votive candles that sputtered out with a gust of wind, scraping away excess wax.

That one thread was a life already forfeited to service, honor, and sacrifice.

“Blighted blood burns in her bones, beckoning her to darkness.”

Leliana looked up from the shrine, hearing the familiar, almost emotionless voice. It was spoken directly in her ear, stark against the quiet mutterings of her agents just feet away, but she found nothing.

Until she looked up, finding Cole, all limbs and a large, brimmed hat, perched upon the rafters above. Leliana said nothing for an overlong breath, finally glancing back toward her agents before finding the enigmatic boy again.

“They won’t remember me,” he said. 

Rather than entertain him, Leliana returned her gaze toward the altar, but Cole’s presence lingered on the back of her mind like a brooding raven. She searched the lifeless face of the Prophetess, a crude machination of wood weathered by time and the elements, and yet piercing in Her stare as if she could see right through the Nightingale’s guise.  

"Dark, betrayed, broken bird. Hopeless and then hope.” Each new word came more fraught than the last, steadily rising to match the well of emotion building through Leliana’s lungs, her heart, her head, threatening to spill. Hot, sharp. “My last light. Maker, help her.” Remorse. Regret. Rage. “Maker, please.”

“Stop.”

And it did, the burden sliding away from her shoulders to slink back into the shadows.

“Sister Leliana?”

A stab ripped at her throat, searing down through her chest. It was with shame that she felt her agents’ eyes upon her back. She turned just enough, meeting their gazes with the indifference of a wolf eyeing a lamb. “You’ve done enough,” she declared. “Go, now. I will finish here.”

A collective hesitation flitted across the three agents, but they quietly relented, closing a fist over their hearts before departing the rookery. Her heart galloped loudly in her chest as Leliana made her way back over to her ramshackle desk. She stared down at countless pieces of parchment, but between the pounding of her head and the twisting of her stomach, she focused on none of them.

She felt numb. Drained and utterly numb. 

The presence filtered back over her, less looming and more sympathetic this time.

“She has many names,” Cole said, his voice flat once again. Leliana didn’t look up this time. “She only wants one.”

[danceswithdarkspawn]

Ariel/Leliana and kiss prompt 6...on a falling tear 😊

Mhm, your fluff disguise doesn't fool me.

Something like this is technically going to be in the final chapters of one of my longfics, but its not really spoiler-ish i guess.

6: on a falling tear

Leliana gave Ariel a beseeching look, and she in turn glanced between her and the others ahead. Ariel whistled to get their attention as she and Leliana stopped their horses.

"Could you give us a moment?" she called out to Morrigan and Cassandra. Morrigan went on without a word; Cassandra tossed a silent question to Leliana, who answered with a nod.

Leliana spared no time in dismounting from her own horse once they were a respectable distance away, and threw herself against Ariel before she could fully gain her bearings.

"Please be safe," she said against Ariel's shoulder, tightening her hold around her back.

Ariel wound her arms around Leliana's waist. "You're worried about me?" Ariel laughed, but it fell flat when Leliana's breath choked into a sob.

"I'm always worried about you." Leliana pulled back enough to look into Ariel's eyes, her face feeling hot despite the frigid mountain air. Ariel's expression twisted, her lips parted, and she brought a hand back to cup Leliana's face.

"Come on, Dove, don't cry," Ariel pleaded, her lips forming a broken smile. "You're gonna make me cry." She leaned forward until their foreheads met. A heavy breath passed between them. The sorrow that crackled in the space between them felt tangible against Leliana's skin.

"I'm gonna miss you," Ariel whispered to her, the words coming out thick.

Leliana turned her head until her lips met Ariel's skin, feeling the stain of a tear and tasting its salt.

"I already miss you."

[danceswithdarkspawn]

The filled stand stood like a shrine, a faceless gaze watching her from beneath the cowl like an accusation.

Leliana retired to her quarters earlier than she normally would have; late enough that the sky already darkened, but far before the glacial bite of midnight winds echoed across the castle.

The fire was made, candles and lamps lit in quiet devotion.

The headache that mired her day waned into a dull ache, a persistent pressure on the back of her skull that felt as heavy as her emotions. It slowed the ritual of removing her vestments. She worked through one piece after another; the deceptively heavy cowl, the ram leather epaulettes. Thick gloves of the same ilk, beyond broken in. The long, woolen tunic interwoven with chain mail links; leg guards and over-armored boots.

She felt so light without it all, standing there in just linen. Meanwhile, the filled stand stood like a shrine, a faceless gaze watching her from beneath the cowl like an accusation. 

Without the veil, she was no longer the Nightingale. She longed for the day she no longer needed to wear it.

She might be called upon to wear another, she reminded herself.

[danceswithdarkspawn]

wip wednesday

its fine it's still wednesday where i am don't look at me

anyway this was/is part of a prompt game I got aaaaages ago and am now desperately trying to finish. some spoilers.

CW for self-destructive thoughts

Morrigan approached the fire sometime later, jarred salve in her hands. Ariel didn't look up from the fire until Morrigan stood beside her. The sharpness of her features were made even more severe by the shadows resting in their hollows. It made her appear much more slight than she was. Her skin was a sickly pale, nearly taking on the orange hue of the light of the campfire. The only variation was marked by black spidering veins creeping up her neck. Ariel's eyes began to cloud in the days prior, transforming her pupils into endless milky pools.

"Do I look that bad?"

Morrigan blinked, catching herself. She released a small breath through her nose and said, "You've not quite the visage of a hurlock. Perhaps there is some humanity left in you yet." A long breath passed with only the crackle of fire between them, meanwhile Ariel simply stared in silence. "I made more of this for you," Morrigan said, holding out the jar. Ariel took it slowly and turned it over in her hands. "I noticed you were having some trouble walking; it should help alleviate some of the pain."

Ariel set the jar down near her boot. "Thanks."

"Are you experiencing any other pains?" Morrigan frowned a little when Ariel shook her head. "Nothing at all?"

The beleaguered Warden let out a humorless laugh. "I'm dying, but yeah, I'm fine." Morrigan inhaled a slow breath and bit down a scathing remark. Ariel tilted her head up to regard her, was silent for a long moment, before letting out a sigh. She looked down, head dropping between her shoulders. Morrigan thought it reminiscent of a dog tucking its tail in. "I'm sorry," Ariel finally said, rubbing at her eyes. "I know you're just trying to help."

Morrigan released a measured breath, feeling her bristling ire cool. She crossed her arms, shifted from one foot to the other, flippant, meaningless motions meant to distract from her raw heart. Anger was how Ariel dealt with things, Morrigan reminded herself. She supposed she would be angry too, given the circumstances. Still, something about this anger was different. Helpless, perhaps.

The night and the campfire crackled on, unaware.

"Is there anything more I can do for you?" The question came out a little sharper than Morrigan intended.

But Ariel let out a bitter laugh that bordered on a sob. She shook her head in her hands, drew in a seething breath, pushed her fingers through her hair. "You could kill me," she finally said.

"I will do no such thing." Ariel didn't answer, hands clenched. "How severe is the pain?"

"Go stick your hand in the fire," Ariel said, motioning. "It's like that, but everywhere." Another hissing inhale. "And probably...I think I'd prefer to burn, at this point."

Morrigan made for her potions stock before Ariel finished, rummaging through little corked bottles, holding them up to the light, before choosing one. She uncorked it on the way back. "You could tell me before it gets so debilitating. Here." She held the bottle out; Ariel righted herself long enough to take and down its contents. Morrigan retook the emptied glass and returned it to the stockpile.

But she lingered there, frozen at first and eyes glazing over open tomes with their annotations, different reagents and the rest of her supplies. Her heart began to gallop, and Morrigan made herself busy without much thought. Pages turned, bottles opened, a crucible was filled; the scent of crushed embrium and wax and just a little rose water and—

"It's not debilitating," Ariel said from across the fire. "If it was, I wouldn't be walking."

"You are a fool," Morrigan spat. She flicked her wrist and a fire sprang to life beneath the crucible. "You needn't be immobile to be debilitated. You know this, I hope?" She shot a look over to the fire, where a pair of colorless eyes bore right through her. She snapped her attention back down, snatching a stirring rod and plunging it into the waxy slurry. "You should be resting."

"I will, once that stuff starts working."

Morrigan scoffed. Her brow ached. "I will hold you to that."

A strained laugh. "What are you gonna do, turn into a wolf and lay on me?"

A pang streaked through the witch's chest. A memory, long since tamped down, dredged to the surface; her lips flickered, the fire licked at the sides of the crucible. Morrigan hadn't meant for the gesture to hold him down, but rather to—

"It worked for Eran, did it not?"

The night turned deathly quiet. Morrigan tamped out the little fire, went about pouring the mixture into an empty vessel. It wasn't blended well. Too choppy, too stiff from scorching. It did not matter much to her, however; the distraction had served its purpose, though her nerves still felt frayed and raw.

"Would you do it for him?"

[danceswithdarkspawn]

@tsunderesalty

screenshot because the ask isnt in my inbox anymore but HI THIS IS FINALLY DONE FROM LIKE (checks calendar) MAY???? anyway by now i think most of us have figured out #1 is going to happen eventually and #2 is fucking...AU material??? which I can't be caught dead doing.

so that leaves us with the Third Option. Did I actually make Morrigan be nice to Ariel??? idk but i tried babes

Brief warning for:

suicidal and/or self-destructive thoughts

mentions of death and dying

general spoilers (this is set post-Griffonheart)

largely unedited because I wanted this to be a little more casual

Morrigan looked up from her makeshift potions table. Ariel sat at the opposite end of the camp, perched in front of the fire, hunched and staring distantly into nothing. A corner of Morrigan’s lips briefly quirked, finding the image of the brooding Grey Warden somewhat reminiscent of the same one she fought the Blight with. Except now her lines were deeper, her face much more gaunt, and she possessed a darkness behind her eyes that was unnatural.

She swallowed thickly and looked back down to the salve she was preparing. She added a little more beeswax to the melting pot and sifted through a collection of tiny corked bottles filled with various oils, finally settling on three. The first contained royal elfroot oil for its restorative properties; the second held embrium, to make the spread warming. And the third was Andraste's Grace, which Morrigan acquired back at Skyhold just for this purpose. Morrigan carefully added a drop each from the first two, and two from Andraste's Grace. A sharply sweet aroma lifted from the pot when she gave the contents a stir. She rifled through her collection of glass containers, picking out one that was short and round, and gave it a cursory wipe down before pouring the contents of the pot into it. Satisfied, she went about making other provisions for the journey ahead.

Morrigan approached the fire sometime later, jarred salve in her hands. Ariel didn't look up from the fire until Morrigan stood beside her. The sharpness of her features were made even more severe by the shadows resting in their hollows. It made her appear much more slight than she was. Her skin was a sickly pale, nearly taking on the orange hue of the light of the campfire. The only variation was marked by black spidering veins creeping up her neck. Ariel's eyes began to cloud in the days prior, transforming her pupils into endless milky pools.

"Do I look that bad?"

Morrigan blinked, catching herself. She released a small breath through her nose and said, "You've not quite the visage of a hurlock. Perhaps there is some humanity left in you yet." A long breath passed with only the crackle of fire between them, meanwhile Ariel simply stared in silence. "I made more of this for you," Morrigan said, holding out the jar. Ariel took it slowly and turned it over in her hands. "I noticed you were having some trouble walking; it should help alleviate some of the pain."

Ariel set the jar down near her boot. "Thanks."

"Are you experiencing any other pains?" Morrigan frowned a little when Ariel shook her head. "Nothing at all?"

The beleaguered Warden let out a humorless laugh. "I'm dying, but yeah, I'm fine." Morrigan inhaled a slow breath and bit down a scathing remark. Ariel tilted her head up to regard her, was silent for a long moment, before letting out a sigh. She looked down, head dropping between her shoulders. Morrigan thought it reminiscent of a dog tucking its tail in. "I'm sorry," Ariel finally said, rubbing at her eyes. "I know you're just trying to help."

Morrigan released a measured breath, feeling her bristling ire cool. She crossed her arms, shifted from one foot to the other, flippant, meaningless motions meant to distract from her raw heart. Anger was how Ariel dealt with things, Morrigan reminded herself. She supposed she would be angry too, given the circumstances. Still, something about this anger was different. Helpless, perhaps.

The night and the campfire crackled on, unaware.

"Is there anything more I can do for you?" The question came out a little sharper than Morrigan intended.

But Ariel let out a bitter laugh that bordered on a sob. She shook her head in her hands, drew in a seething breath, pushed her fingers through her hair. "You could kill me," she finally said.

"I will do no such thing." Ariel didn't answer, hands clenched. "How severe is the pain?"

"Go stick your hand in the fire," Ariel said, motioning. "It's like that, but everywhere." Another hissing inhale. "And probably...I think I'd prefer to burn, at this point."

Morrigan made for her potions stock before Ariel finished, rummaging through little corked bottles, holding them up to the light, before choosing one. She uncorked it on the way back. "You could tell me before it gets so debilitating. Here." She held the bottle out; Ariel righted herself long enough to take and down its contents. Morrigan retook the emptied glass and returned it to the stockpile.

But she lingered there, frozen at first and eyes glazing over open tomes with their annotations, different reagents and the rest of her supplies. Her heart began to gallop, and Morrigan made herself busy without much thought. Pages turned, bottles opened, a crucible was filled; the scent of crushed embrium and wax and just a little rose water and—

"It's not debilitating," Ariel said from across the fire. "If it was, I wouldn't be walking."

"You are a fool," Morrigan spat. She flicked her wrist and a fire sprang to life beneath the crucible. "You needn't be immobile to be debilitated. You know this, I hope?" She shot a look over to the fire, where a pair of colorless eyes bore right through her. She snapped her attention back down, snatching a stirring rod and plunging it into the waxy slurry. "You should be resting."

"I will, once that stuff starts working."

Morrigan scoffed. Her brow ached. "I will hold you to that."

A strained laugh. "What are you gonna do, turn into a wolf and lay on me?"

A pang streaked through the witch's chest. A memory, long since tamped down, dredged to the surface; her lips flickered, the fire licked at the sides of the crucible. Morrigan hadn't meant for the gesture to hold him down, but rather to—

"It worked for Eran, did it not?"

The night turned deathly quiet. Morrigan tamped out the little fire, went about pouring the mixture  into an empty vessel. It wasn't blended well. Too choppy, too stiff from scorching. She'd attempt to salvage it in the morning. It did not matter much to her now, however; the distraction had served its purpose, though her nerves still felt frayed and raw.

"Would you do it for him? If he was like this," Ariel added, and Morrigan snapped her head over. "If he asked you to kill him, would you?"

Her blood turned to ice. A lump formed in her throat and Morrigan struggled to swallow past it. Morrigan was unsure if Ariel's irony was intentional, but its weight was hard for her to ignore. She wondered how fatally close Ariel was to realizing that was exactly what she allowed before the Archdemon's slaying.

Not that she didn't try. Or plead. Or...

Morrigan said nothing, unable past the vice on her throat, knowing her silence was as good an answer as any.

Morrigan returned to the fire some time later, sitting across from her companion. She crossed her arms, minding off the chill that had settled around their makeshift camp. She'd thought these nights very reminiscent of camping during the Blight, especially when the two of them took watches together. How they'd sit across the fire, with Morrigan trying to do something worth doing, and Ariel still and silent as a gargoyle for most of it, save the times either of them grew curious about the other.

They'd come full circle, like a snake eating its own tail.

"Before I left Amaranthine," Ariel began, and Morrigan started a little, "I sent Leliana a letter telling her what I was doing, that I wanted to find an end to the Calling." Morrigan's eyes flicked to Ariel's hands, where she flipped a twig between gloved fingers, all the while her eyes remained on the fire. "Wanted her to come with me, but she couldn't. She told me Justinia wanted her. And I didn't understand because I thought—" Her fingers closed; the twig snapped. She flung the remains into the fire. "She made me promise I would tell her if I got my Calling so she could be with me."

In another life, Morrigan wondered how different this all might be. She knew solitude had done lasting damage to the Warden; it was evident before leaving Skyhold. It was not until this endeavor, however, that the depths of those scars revealed themselves. It was...sad, in a way. Familiar, but also sad. "I imagine it is difficult that she could not accompany us."

A short laugh. "Leaving Skyhold was about as difficult as leaving for Amaranthine," Ariel admitted. Silence. "She still had work to do for the Inquisition. I can't do much about that." She paused again, her head tilting, until she reached down and plucked the jarred salve from beside her boot. "That's what the ring's for, right?" She set the jar in her lap, then pulled upon the fingers of her gloves until they came off. The aforementioned band glinted in the firelight before it too came off, dropped inside a glove, and then set aside in favor of opening the jar. She took a generous amount on her fingers, spread it between her hands. "Though it doesn't really work in a place like this," she continued, sounding a little more subdued. "This in-between bullshit is weird. I can't feel her here."

"The flux of magic here makes such enchantments unpredictable," Morrigan admitted. Ariel answered with a low hum that mingled with a sigh, having steepled her hands over her nose. Her eyes fell closed, and Morrigan's lips quirked with a twinge of pride. The smell was potent, even from across the fire. "I could attempt to alter it, if you wish."

Ariel shook her head, then lowered her hands. "No, it's fine. We have more important things to do than fuck around with a magic ring." She resealed the jar and fished the ring from her glove. "I just didn't want to be alone at the end," she said lowly, sliding the ring back onto her finger. Her touch lingered, twisting the metal, kneading one hand into the other. "I didn't want to die alone in the Deep Roads and be lost down there. If things became so unbearable...if she was with me, then maybe—" She trailed off, her hands lowered, and she stared into some middle distance for a long breath. "I think it's better this way. I wouldn't want her to see me like this."

"No? She is not unfamiliar with death's face."

Ariel shook her head. "Not like this. It's too much. Even being like this around Kieran, the boy's too young...and if I'm honest, I'm—I'm glad Leliana had to stay behind."

Morrigan leaned back on her perch, a brow arched. That was not something she expected from Ariel. "Should I be flattered that you tolerate my company so?"

"I'm too weak," Ariel answered, kneading a hand into her eyes. "I want to go home. I trust you to get me there."

Ah. Well... "You know that there is a chance this does not work."

Ariel's hand lowered, hollow eyes fixed on Morrigan through the flames. Then her head dropped between her shoulders again, her thin hair becoming a curtain. "I know. That's been a possibility for over a decade now. Always there, always stuck to me like a shadow in my thoughts, my dreams, I—" Fingers clawed through her hair, and a low hiss coupled with the crack of embers followed. "If I were still with Leliana, I would have asked her to end it at least a dozen times already."

Morrigan drew in a slow breath. She was beginning to understand; the evidence had been there since leaving Skyhold, but in all the moons since their departure, Ariel's earlier outburst was the first time she voiced such notions. She supposed it was foolish to assume Ariel meant it in jest, though she could hardly fault her regardless.

And again she wondered how things might be different if things had played out just a bit differently.

Love was such a trap, one all of them had been snared by in one way or another.

"And you think Leliana would kill you?"

"If I were to beg, if things were so hopeless..." She slowly shook her head in her hands, her hair bunching in the crooks of her fingers. "I'd like to think she would," Ariel answered, not looking up, her voice a touch thicker. "I hope she wouldn't."

Morrigan was unsure of what to say. Delicate sympathy was very much out of her element. It was one thing to deal with the ills of her son; it was an entirely different matter responding to grief left to fester for a decade. When everything aligned and horror seeped in, it was everything Morrigan could do to stave away her own grief. "Do you truly believe she would allow you to lay down and die? Have you so little faith in her, in yourself?"

The Warden reared back, her lips spread into a bitter grin and she laughed. Morrigan bit the inside of her lip, golden gaze narrowing, watching Ariel claw at the twin streaks running down her face. "This is what I mean," she said, and Morrigan raised a brow. "Why I'm glad I'm with you and not her."

"I am afraid I do not follow."

"This," she said, balling her fists and shaking them. "This insistence to just...keep going, even if I don't want to. It's what Eran used to do for me. Whenever I wanted to lay down and be done with it all, he'd just—" She sucked in a breath; her colorless eyes were wild. "He'd pick me up by the scruff and say 'Get up.'," she hissed through her teeth, "'You're not done yet, get up!'" A long silence followed while Ariel stared into the fire, her breath heavy, and her visage looking every bit beastlike with the way the fire and ghastly light of the Crossroads lit her face. For a moment, Morrigan wondered if this place knew of Ariel's nature.

"I need that," Ariel finally spoke, subdued again. "I need to be told to keep going. Not soft reassurances and 'oh, darling, rest for a while.' No, as much as I want that, it won't fix me. Once this is done, if I survive this, I'll have a lifetime of that, but for now, I—" She looked off to some unknowable spot beyond the fire, then finally dragged herself to her feet, collecting her discarded things. "I suffer a little now, it'll feel all the better when it's over. That's how that works, right?"

Morrigan's lips momentarily quirked. "Yes, the sooner I return you to that tart of yours, the better, I think."

Ariel tossed her a hollow glare. "She's not a tart."

"No? The way she acts around you, I might have been fooled." The jab dredged out a reaction from Ariel that Morrigan had not seen since departing Skyhold: she smiled, a genuine, lopsided smile, and she raked a hand through her hair, looking down. Morrigan could guess what she might be thinking about. "We should move on from this place come morning," Morrigan suggested before they carried on further. "We have lingered here for long enough."

"Right. That's probably wise."

With that, Ariel vanished into her tent, and Morrigan set about preparing for the journey come morning. She sorted and packed up much of her supplies, putting away the things she would not need immediately and leaving the rest before setting off.

"Morrigan?"

She snapped her head toward Ariel's tent, finding the woman dressed down and standing with her hands fidgeting at her front. Morrigan opened her mouth to ask what was the matter, but she finally spoke.

"Thank you," she simply said. "For everything."

Morrigan's thoughts fell over themselves until she finally managed, "Of course." Of course. As if it were the most...natural, obvious answer. If Ariel thought it indifferent, however, she gave no indication. She nodded in farewell before disappearing back into her tent, this time for good.

Morrigan went back to organizing her things, albeit in a slower, more deliberate manner as her mind wandered. Was she doing enough? Could this be stopped? What if it couldn't?

The heavy lid of the trunk carrying her various reagents thumped shut, but her hands lingered upon it, her eyes following the worn ivy patterns carved all across it. It had to be, she told herself. "Would you do it for him," she mouthed, her fingers curling in on themselves.

She wondered what he might say. She wondered if he'd let her.

[danceswithdarkspawn]

wip wednesday

this is something a little different; I wrote this on the spot in response to a prompt activity on reddit.

This contains major spoilers for the end of Broken Bird. (Annie if you see this, run away screaming)

If you've read Griffonheart, you're already gonna be aware of the ending. Highly recommend skipping if you'd like to avoid spoilers.

It's the first time I've been in this chantry before becoming a Grey Warden.

But the rain hasn't stopped since the darkspawn fled the city, and the light that comes through the glass is as pale and grey as Andraste's stone flesh. There is no smoke to hide the smell of wet and battle. And now Andraste stands, head bowed and arms outstretched over the altar where the battered corpse of my brother lay.

The last time was to receive blessings before the rest of my life began. I felt so small then, dressed in Summerday whites with flowers in my hair, and holding upon my brother's arm like a demure whelp of a girl.

The priestess joked with him about his own wedding, how he could finally wed now that I'd been matched off. Six years too late, she said, but I was too busy looking at the way the sunlight came through the stained glass. Glittering and golden, in perfect compliment to the smoke that rose from hanging censers. It swirled, as if drawn to the statue of Andraste that dwarfed the altar, with her arms outstretched over it and her head bowed.

A pew in the middle left side has been my home since he was brought here yesterday morning. Every now and again, the chantry doors groan upon their hinges and in floats a survivor or two. They tread carefully and speak softly to where he lies. Sometimes touching the altar, or him, or offering him a ragged flower or prayer before leaving again. I watch them all go, and they watch me in turn, a hollow woman still in her blood-caked armor, and for some of them, it's the first time I've seen them have sympathy for an elf.

[danceswithdarkspawn]

Masterpost [Updated 1/30/24]

Links: ao3 | Characters | Headcanons | Kiss Prompt Fill List | Dragon Age Ask | Dinosaur Ask

By the way, this blog is LGBTQ+ friendly and TERFs and homophobes are not welcome to interact with me. This blog is 18+ and I encourage minors to DNI.

Hi there! I'm a being of indeterminate origin whose main fixation revolves around Dragon Age, and I am horribly, inexplicably gay. I love to play RPGs, bake and cultivate flowers.

I love to blab about my interests and works, or engage in thoughtful debate over my fixations. Huge lore nerd. Feel free to ask me whatever! I primarily write and read F/F fanfiction, but nothing is off-limits for me.

Below the cut, you'll find some more information about this blog, including my personal tag list, should you choose to filter any of my content.

If there is anything you'd like to know that is not listed here, please feel free to hit up my inbox, but be respectful. Any ask that is inflammatory, acting in bad faith or overstepping boundaries will go unanswered.

Please do not ask for any personal information about me that is not already publicly available on my blog. If it's not here, I don't feel comfortable sharing it.

Personal Tag List

I use these tags to help filter my content. If you don’t wish to see any of these posts for whatever reason, please add the tag to your exclusions. If there is something that needs to be tagged but isn’t, let me know about it and why.

Fanfic specific

These tags are used for my personal works and characters.

Works:

#dao: broken bird & #broken bird spoilers

#dai: griffonheart & #griffonheart spoilers

#dai: remove the mask

#dai: two of swords

#dai: tqos

Characters:

#oc: eran tabris

#oc: ariel tabris

#oc: renata lavellan

#oc: elisabeth trevelyan dwd

General:

#dances writing tag - for general writing things, sneak peaks, etc

#dances fic tag - posts about new works or updates

Personal Posts & Asks

I sometimes make ramble posts that are my thoughts or reacting to a thing. If you don’t wish to see that, you can filter the following tags:

#personal bird posting - typically just random thoughts i have

#the dancer answers - for asks

#ask games & #tag games - self-explanatory, typically writer/fic-oriented in nature

About

This blog sometimes posts and links to things that may be dark or unsuitable for minors. While I try to warn appropriately, please be cautious, and I strongly urge minors to DNI.

I saw some of your headcanons and I don’t agree with them!

And that’s okay! Often most of my headcanons are for something super specific, but I do try to ground them within the rules of the canon, and/or make them as believable as possible. Basically, these headcanons are for me. There are plenty of popular headcanons/fanons I don’t agree with, but choose to ignore. Please do the same for mine.

When will you update?

Currently I do not have an upload schedule as my life is a little busy and my health comes and goes. Fear not; unless I have said so, I am still working on my fics!

Do you take requests?

I do not currently take requests because my thoughts are few and fickle and refuse to cooperate on demand.

What is your opinion on [x fandom topic/headcanon/etc.]?

While I enjoy shouting from the rooftops about how much Dragon Age’s canon gets on my last nerve, I’m not here to get involved in meta debates over the canon. I have thoughts about the canon that may not necessarily align with someone else’s, but I respect their views and do not wish to engage in any discourse personally. I do, however, love reading critical analysis and meta posts.

Similarly, I will not respond to any “How do you feel about [x pairing], trope, etc. We all have our squicks and our loves, and I’m not about to get engaged in or judge anyone based on what they do or don’t like. I expect others to act likewise when interacting with me and my blog.

[danceswithdarkspawn]

Links: ao3 | Characters | Headcanons | Fic Masterlist

Personal Tag List

I use these tags to help filter my content. If you don’t wish to see any of these posts for whatever reason, please add the tag to your exclusions. If there is something that needs to be tagged but isn’t, let me know about it and why.

Fanfic specific

#dao: broken bird & #broken bird spoilers

#dai: griffonheart

#dai: remove the mask

#dai: hmf and #dai: biting down

#dai: ruler

Personal Posts & Asks

I sometimes make ramble posts that are my thoughts or reacting to a thing. If you don’t wish to see that, you can filter the following tags:

#personal bird posting

#the dancer answers

#ask games & #tag games

About

This blog sometimes posts and links to things that may be dark or unsuitable for minors. While I try to warn appropriately, please be cautious, and I strongly urge minors to DNI.

I saw some of your headcanons and I don’t agree with them!

And that’s okay! Often most of my headcanons are for something super specific, but I do try to ground them within the rules of the canon, and/or make them as believable as possible. Basically, these headcanons are for me. There are plenty of popular headcanons/fanons I don’t agree with, but choose to ignore. Please do the same for mine.

When will you update?

Currently I do not have an upload schedule as my life is a little busy and my health comes and goes. Fear not; unless I have said so, I am still working on my fics!

Do you take requests?

I do not currently take requests because my thoughts are few and fickle and refuse to cooperate on demand.

What is your opinion on [x fandom topic/headcanon/etc.]?

While I enjoy shouting from the rooftops about how much Dragon Age’s canon gets on my last nerve, I’m not here to get involved in meta debates over the canon. I have thoughts about the canon that may not necessarily align with someone else’s, but I respect their views and do not wish to engage in any discourse personally. I do, however, love reading critical analysis and meta posts.

Similarly, I will not respond to any “How do you feel about [x pairing], trope, etc. We all have our squicks and our loves, and I’m not about to get engaged in or judge anyone based on what they do or don’t like. I expect others to act likewise when interacting with me and my blog.

If there is anything else you’d like to know, please feel free to hit up my inbox, but be respectful. Any ask that is inflammatory, acting in bad faith or overstepping boundaries will go unanswered.

Please do not ask for any personal information about me that is not already publicly available on my blog. If it's not here, I don't feel comfortable sharing it.