#he was a Dalish elf first and thus his customs come first

[impossible-rat-babies]

Some Darva parents headcanon stuff: --They were only nineteen when Darva was born, so Ahgie was only 33 when he died. Consequently, Mavel was 49 when she died when the clan was attacked. --But, Ahgie was already dying when he was killed by the Orlesian hunters. He was stricken with a wasting disease that is akin to cancer. His own healing magic and the Keeper were preventing the steep decline of the disease when it manifested, but he couldn't prevent it entirely. He had only a few months left when he was killed. --Everyone else but the children--Darva included--knew about his condition. He would've been told, but after his death Mavel thought it best to keep the knowledge from Darva. She wasn't in the right place to tell him and he was already grieving the loss of his father and wouldn't have done well with the news of his eventual death had he survived. --Due to the rift that grew between the pair, Darva never learned of his father's disease. Not until a further inspection of what happened in Wycome found many journals from the Keeper and other members of the clan. One journal amongst them was his mother's journal that included information about his father's disease. --He has very mixed feelings about the information: anger, fear, disgust, mistrust, grief, etc. --Mainly he feels fears about the disease being hereditary, anger about his mother keep it a secret, and almost grieving his father's death again on top of the deaths of the whole clan. It's a very turbulent time for him. --Dorian is told about it first and he immediately jumps into researching the disease. Vivienne helps with the Circles extensive library on healing magic and medical conditions. Josephine requests several books from the University of Orlais. The whole Circle is eventually told about the condition and the possibility that Darva could have it. --It isn't until he's fifty two that the symptoms start to show and he knows. He knows he has less than a year until he dies as a result of the complications. Dorian probably knew before he did. He knew the signs better than he did. --Darva contacts many of their companions with the information and they all visit over the course of his decline. Sera spends almost the whole time with them. Cassandra spends several months with them as well. Blackwall even manages an appearance despite him having become very difficult to track down. Even with how busy Cullen would end up, he spent two weeks with them. The Chantry nearly falls apart on itself in the months that Leliana is gone. She would joke with Darva that he would need to get better so they could put the Chantry back together again. --He dies just over a year after he first noticed the symptoms. A grand ceremony is held in Val Royeaux at the Grand Cathedral where Leliana makes the address. He is buried in traditional Dalish custom in the Exalted Plains. (The area is later named Dirthavaren after Darva's death.) A plaque with information about the Inquisitor is made in bronze and place on a slab of marble at the base of the tree. For years the area is covered in cut flowers and other trinkets. As a result, the area underneath and around the tree blooms every year with vibrant flowers of almost every variety.

[irlaimsaaralath]

@zanidragon  Thanks for the prompt, and I’m sorry it took so long!  I had to think about it. 

This is based off of Zani’s two prompts ( 2. “I swear it won’t happen again.” and/or 4. “You can’t keep doing this.” from the writing prompts ask) and inspired by a fluffy Inquisition comic with kittens I can no longer find.

Cheers.

Josephine sighed heavily as she leaned back in her chair and pinched the bridge of her nose, “Tell me again how much is missing?”  With the line of her brow drawn low, the cook held up her hand and began ticking items off on her fingers, “Two quarts of milk, a wedge of our best cheese, an almost full spool of butcher’s twine, an apple crate,” and she paused there as she tilted her head thoughtfully, “but the apples were left, and two of my aprons are missing.”  With that, she nodded once and planted her hands on her hips.  “Ambassador, really.  I can’t run a kitchen like this!  Things just go missing and I ne-,” the woman trailed off when Josephine raised a hand and offered an appeasing smile.  “I assure you that I will look into it.”  The cook offered a haughty hrmph and nodded before turning on her heel and departing.  The Antivan puffed out a big sigh as she sat up straighter and pulled a sheaf of parchment from one of the many piles on her desk.  Missing apple crates weren’t exactly at the top of her list of important matters to which she needed to attend.

*

Though the intrusion of sunlight had woken her an hour ago, Niyera was still snugly tucked in bed with Solas, though she was unable to find her way back to sleep.  There was so much to do today, and she wasn’t especially thrilled for any of it.  First thing, of course, there was the war room, then, afterwards, Josephine had arranged for a meeting with some noble patriarch from Orlais that was visiting Skyhold.  Once that was finished, she owed Cassandra some time to discuss the Seeker disappearances, and she had also sworn to Scout Harding that she would inspect some new recruits with her.  None of this taking into account the pile of paperwork languishing on her desk.  With a grumbling sigh, she pulled the covers up over her head and scooched back against Solas, who responded by draping an arm around her waist.  She had just begun to settle in when she felt an odd pressure shift the pillow near her head.  The surprise of it made her jerk, and a misplaced elbow into Solas’s stomach roused him from sleep with a mumble of accusation.  

She shushed him with a quiet shhhh, and suddenly the pressure moved, became four tiny points on her cheek.  A tiny mew found her ear, and in her unreasonable excitement to pull down the covers, she accidentally elbowed Solas again.  “Vhenan...what is so important tha-,” and his words were drowned out by the sudden cooing noises Niyera was making.  The elf abandoned any hope of more sleep and opened his eyes to find the Inquisitor cradling a small grey kitten in her hands.  “Solas,” she whispered with delight, “Look.”  She turned the creature to look at him, and one brow lifted when it mewed at him.  “I see.  Where did it come from?”  Depositing the creature on her chest, it sat for a moment as if confused, then toddled on wobbly feet over to Niyera’s face and head-butted her chin.  The smile that broke out onto her face told Solas all he needed to know; it didn’t matter where it came from.  It was staying where it was.  He shook his head and tried to suppress an indulgent smirk as he rested his head in one hand.  “Does it have a name?”  Around its neck was a small loop of twine with a torn corner of parchment attached to it.  Niyera read it, then tilted her face to Solas with a grin, “Fade.”

*

Cassandra slumped down onto the edge of her bed, dressed all but for her boots, and propped her elbows on her knees to rest her face in her hands.  She couldn’t make sense of the Seekers’ disappearance.  She couldn’t bear the thought that she might have failed them.  If she had stayed, would it have made a difference?  Could she have intervened in what has happened to them?  “Ugh,” she muttered into her hands before lifting her face.  Perhaps the Inquisitor would be willing to help her see this through.  She had to know.  

The Seeker was still deep in her thoughts as she reached for one of her boots, but stopped short when she saw the thing wiggle.  Just a bit.  Maker’s Grace, if that was a rat…  Cassandra sucked in a breath as she reached for the dagger on her hip.  She was just beginning to pull it free as she tugged on the mouth of the boot, when she heard a soft mewl.  She blinked, hard, and snatched up the boot.  Reaching down into the bottom, she snagged something small and warm and fuzzy, then tugged it out of the boot.  In her grasp, she held a small black and white kitten by the nape of its neck.  Four tiny paws patted the air, and it gave a tiny mew.  Every edge and line of the Seeker’s features softened, and she smiled as she pulled it to her chest.  There was a thin bit of twine about its neck with a scrap of parchment attached that read, “Donnen.”

*

It was late afternoon when Bull retired to the tavern for a bit of a refresher, and his bench gave a plaintive creak beneath his weight as he settled.  Always ready with a tankard for her favorite customer, the red-haired barmaid was quick to bring him a drink, and he accepted it with the same grace he always did, which is to say none at all as he winked and casually licked his lips at her.  Well-satisfied with himself as she walked away giggling, he kicked his feet up on a stool and relaxed.  Or, tried to relax, rather.  It was still weighing on his mind, this being Tal-Vashoth business.  Looking at Krem as he sat across from him now and Dalish as she was on her way back from the bar, he couldn’t imagine having made any other choice.  But, at the same time, he felt adrift, unsure, and those were two things The Iron Bull was not accustomed to feeling.  

All in one breath, he drained his tankard and waggled it in the air to catch the barmaid’s attention, before he rested his arm across his chest and thoughtfully stared into the empty mug.  The scuff of a chair across the floor broke his inspection, however, and he looked up reflexively.  Just a drunk standing to leave.  When Krem cleared his throat and said, “Uhm, chief?” Bull looked back to his companion.  The younger man jerked his chin toward the Qunari’s empty tankard, and Bull turned his eyes downward.  A small, fuzzy white face stared back at him, large blue eyes blinking unassumingly.  One corner of Bull’s mouth twitched upward as the kitten lost its grip on the edge of the tankard and fell into it.  When it mewed insistently, Bull plucked it out and sat it in one hand.  The kitten gave a fearsome hiss, and Bull smirked harder.  Around its neck was a bit of twine and a parchment scrap that read, “Charger.”

*

As the Inquisitor went about her day, Solas finished up a few things he was working on and eventually made his way over to the tavern.  In passing, Niyera had mentioned that Josephine had another complaint from the cook about missing supplies and food, and with the sudden introduction of kitten Fade this morning, he thought he had a decent idea who was to blame.  Solas was even more certain when he passed Cassandra in the courtyard with another of the furry creatures, then saw Bull teasing one with a bit of string as he walked up to the second level of the tavern.  With his hands clasped behind his back, he made his way over to Cole, who was sitting bent over the top of an apple crate.  As he neared, he could see two more kittens, a dish of milk, and a few cheese crumbles in the bottom of the crate atop what looked like a crumpled apron.  “You can’t keep doing this, Cole,” Solas began, but the spirit-boy interrupted as he peeked up from beneath the brim of his hat.  “I found them.  Water like ice, rolled and tumbled in a burlap trap.  Sinking, sinking, so very scared.”  Cole looked back into the crate and prodded a tabby kitten gently with a fingertip.  The ball of fuzz flopped over and attacked the finger with all four feet.  

“But, they’re happy now.  And, the others are happy, too.  Everyone was so tired and sad and unsure.  They made each other better.”  It was always hard to argue these points with Cole.  He was so well-meaning.  Solas leaned down and rested a hand on Cole’s shoulder, “Just stop by Josephine’s office and tell her that it won’t happen again.”  The spirit-boy tilted his head and began to protest, “But, I wi-,” and Solas cut him off with a gesture.  “I know, but it will make Josephine feel better,” he assured Cole, who responded with, “I...swear it won’t happen again,” then looked to the elf for approval.  Solas nodded as he straightened and clasped his hands behind his back again.  “Exactly thus.  And take her a kitten.  The tabby one.  That’ll help, too.”  Before he could turn to leave, Cole was gone, and he could practically hear the Ambassador’s excited squeals from here.