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andrastesacredknickers · 6 months ago

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At Fault

Summary: The Dread Wolf guides me... I must find a way to shake his influence...

Eden Lavellan’s temper often got the better of them, harsh words rolling off their tongue entirely too easily. They always regretted it immediately after, seeing how their words hurt others. The nasty things they would say just spilled out of them, poisoning the people they loved. The rage that festered inside Eden scared them. They found it hard to control the inferno once it started burning.

While writing this I was listening to: Eyes on Fire - Blue Foundation

Hello my friends! Here is a fic I’ve written giving my archer Eden Lavellan (they/them) some angsty backstory. They’re a Solas romancer and I’ve got a lot of angst and hurt in store for them.

Word count: 1.9K

Tags: angst, hurt/no comfort, mourning, grief, death, sibling death

Find me on Ao3 here

“Fenedhis, Maggie!” Eden shouted, letting out a loud huff. “You always do this. I’m gone for a few days and you’ve let everything go to shit,”

“Creators, Eden... I just forgot to bring your sword inside, I didn’t know it was going to rain,” Maggie said quietly, eyes trained on the ground. In their hands Eden held a sword they had been working on, the leather on the hilt discolored and molding from being rained on, rust forming on the blade. They sighed, looking up at their sister.

“I have worked on this sword for weeks. It’s ruined now,” they said, their voice growing quiet. Maggie shifted uncomfortably, she knew that once Eden grew quiet like this, they were really angry.

“I know, Eden. I know. I- I’m sorry,” she said, looking back up at the archer before her. Eden felt themselves grow hot, a burning in their chest as they looked down at their creation, ruined from the rain.

“I should know better by now. It’s my mistake for trusting you wouldn’t fuck something up,” Eden spat, shaking their head at the mage. They took a deep breath, immediately regretting the words as soon as they fell from their lips. “Maggie, I-”

“That sharp tongue of yours will be the reason Elgaris leaves you,” Maggie responded, snatching her staff which had been leaning against the twin’s tent. Eden huffed, hands resting on their hips.

“Come on, Maggie,” Eden said, more softly now.

“Don’t. Just leave me alone for a while, Eden,” Maggie said dejectedly, shaking her head as she turned on her heel, heading towards the forest.

“Shit,” Eden muttered, pinching the bridge of their nose.

Eden’s temper often got the better of them, harsh words rolling off their tongue entirely too easily. They always regretted it immediately after, seeing how their words hurt others. The nasty things they would say just spilled out of them, poisoning the people they loved. The rage that festered inside Eden scared them. They found it hard to control the inferno once it started burning.

“What was that about?”

Eden turned to see their partner, Elgaris, approaching them from behind, a puzzled expression on his face. Elgaris was a warrior for Clan Lavellan, found as an infant by Keeper Istimaethoriel among some elven ruins. They had grown up together, childhood friends turned something more. Eden cared for Elgaris a great deal. He was strong, a talented warrior, and a good friend. He helped take care of Eden and Maggie after their mother had disappeared, always ensuring they had everything they needed. Eden admired his strength and tenacity, and his ability to put up with their temper.

“Maggie is angry with me. Again,” Eden said, messing with the sword still in their hands.

“What did you say to her?” Elgaris asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Why would you assume it was my fault?” Eden asked, feeling the anger burn in their chest once again. Elgaris raised an eyebrow at them knowingly.

“It doesn’t matter what I said. I’ve upset her,” Eden said, leaning the now ruined sword against their tent.

“What’s that?” Elgaris asked, looking over to the sword. It was a beautiful weapon, crafted with Dalish design. The blade was engraved with intricate patterns, the leather around the hilt a dark blue, though most of it was discolored now from the rain.

“It was a gift. I was making it for you,” Eden said, crossing their arms. Elgaris took a step closer, leaning down to inspect the weapon. The patterns engraved in the hilt were vines, hand engraved into the steel. Along the side read: ‘Dareth shiral, ma vhenan,’

Safe journey, my heart.

“It’s… it’s beautiful, Eden,” Elgaris said, his expression growing somber.

“Then why do you look sad?” Eden asked, cocking their head to the side. Elgaris froze for a moment, clearly thinking about something.

“Don’t worry about it, vhenan,” he said, pressing a kiss to their cheek. Eden nodded, letting out a huff.

“Maybe I should go after Maggie. I owe her an apology, if nothing else,” the archer said, reaching for their bow and quiver. Elgaris nodded, his eyes still trained on the sword Eden had made.

“Dareth shiral,” Elgaris replied, turning away from Eden. Eden could feel in the pit of their stomach that something was wrong, Elgaris wasn’t usually this... quiet. Eden steeled themselves, they couldn’t focus on that right now, though. Eden slung their quiver over their back, heading out towards the forest.

“Ar tu na'lin emma mi!” Eden hissed, the string of their bow pulled taut as they aimed an arrow at the man approaching them. Their hand was steady, ready to let the arrow fly at this perceived threat.

“Eden, it’s me!” he said, palms raised in defense. Eden narrowed their gaze, their body tense, adrenaline rushing through them. That voice was familiar, why did they know that voice? Eden concentrated on the face before them, struggling to recognize any features. A man. An elven man. Slowly, he became more recognizable. Dark brown hair tied back in a bun, a sword slung over his back. His vallaslin was dark blue, the mark of Mythal. Eden had gotten their own vallaslin the same day, theirs representative of Ghilan'nain.

After a moment, Eden’s eyes grew wide, realizing the man before them was their lover, not an enemy.

“Elgaris,” they breathed, lowering the arrow. “Ir abelas, I-” Eden began, feeling a well of emotions bubbling to the surface as the adrenaline began to wear off. Had Elgaris taken one more step, Eden would have killed him. Just as they had killed the men now lying at their feet. The men that had slaughtered their sister right before their eyes.

“Eden, what happened?” Elgaris asked, his voice shaking as he looked around at the carnage before him. Several bodies lay scattered around Eden, all but one riddled with arrows. As he looked closer at the body before Eden, his breath hitched. Red, shoulder length hair, long pointed ears, just like Eden’s. He recognized the mage's staff immediately. Redwood with intricate carvings, a wolf's head at the top. He had made that staff.

“I found Maggie,” Eden whispered, dropping to their knees. They rolled over the body before them, revealing to Elgaris that it was indeed Magdalene, Eden’s twin sister. Elgaris gasped, his knees weakening as he looked at her, lying in the dirt, a gash across her throat.

A tear streamed down Eden’s cheek as they looked down at their sister, her eyes still open, the blood on her neck now dark and dry. Eden’s hands were shaking as they held Maggie, an ache in their chest. They gently closed their sister’s eyes, letting out a sob as they cradled her body.

“This is your fault. You know that, right?” Elgaris said after a moment, watching Eden stroke Maggie’s cheek. Eden froze, their gaze slowly traveling up to meet the other elf’s, the shock on his face replaced with anger.

“What did you say?” Eden hissed, slowly moving to stand. Elgaris’ eyes grew wide, dropping his gaze to the ground. Eden cracked their neck to the side, feeling that all too familiar burning in their chest, breathing growing more ragged. They took a step towards the warrior, their jaw clenched. Elgaris took a step back, clearing his throat as he eyed Eden’s fists, now balled up at their side.

“She wouldn’t have come here if it wasn’t for you,” he spat, reaching for the sword slung over his back. He held it out in front of him, his grip on the hilt shaky as Eden slowly approached him. The archer’s knuckles were white from digging their nails into their palms, the muscles in their forearms flexed tight. The anger within felt white hot and blinding, consuming them like a forest fire.

Elgaris scrambled backwards as Eden reached him, gripping on to his sword. Eden reached out for the sword’s guards, wrenching it from the man’s hands. They tossed it to the side, grabbing the front of his armor and pulling him towards them.

“Go on, seth’lin, say it again,” Eden said, lifting the man off of the ground. Despite being the same height, Eden was much stronger than Elgaris, a vice grip on his clothing. He struggled to free himself of the archer’s grasp, gasping for breath. Elgaris clawed at their hands, sputtering for air as Eden lifted him up. He could see the all consuming, seething rage in their eyes, all semblance of anything but anger gone.

“Eden, don't do this,” he squeaked out, pleading to be released from the elf’s grip. Eden took a deep breath, the urge to snap Elgaris' neck almost consuming them. They let out a breath, tossing him to the ground.

“Get out of my sight, Elgaris. Before you end up like them,” Eden hissed, gesturing to the bodies on the ground. Elgaris huffed, standing up and dusting himself off.

“You’re going to end up miserable and alone, Eden. You couldn’t even keep it together for her,” he said, watching the archer carefully. “I hope you know it was always Maggie. I loved her. You I merely tolerated,” he spat, kneeling down to pick up his sword. A sharp whistle pierced the air, an arrow flying right over the top of the warrior’s head. He looked up, fear overtaking his expression.

“You have 10 seconds to run,” Eden growled, another arrow ready to fly. Elgaris’ eyes grew wide, scrambling backwards. Eden watched him take off, running as fast as he could in the opposite direction of the archer. They turned back towards Maggie’s lifeless body, stumbling over to her. Eden knelt down next to her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“I am so sorry, Maggie. This is all my fault,” they whispered, tears forming in their eyes. As they gazed upon the body of their sister, they felt a different kind of pain in their chest. Unlike the rage that festered deep inside, this didn’t burn. This was a gaping, chilling, all consuming kind of ache.

Eden stayed by Maggie’s body for what felt like forever. Stroking her cheek, her hair. Telling her all of the things they never had. How much they loved her, how they’d miss the way she talked in her sleep, her laugh. How they were sorry for all of the awful things they had said, for the fights they started. Things would never be the same. Now Eden had no one.

“The Dread Wolf guides you, lethallan,”

Eden looked over their shoulder, seeing Keeper Istimaethorial approaching them from behind, her staff in her hand. Eden looked down at Maggie, lying lifeless before them.

“You must stray from these ways, Eden. Your rage will consume you,” she said, lying a hand on Eden’s shoulder. Eden knew she was right. The rage that festered within would overtake them one day if they couldn't calm it.

“This is my fault,” Eden whispered, closing their eyes. The Keeper shushed Eden, kneeling down beside them.

“Yes, it is. And now you must endure,” Keeper Istimaethoriel replied, patting Eden’s shoulder. The mage stroked Eden's cheek, standing and turning on her heel. "I will have Elgaris and his men come and get her, she deserves a proper ceremony,"

“I suppose I must,” Eden whispered, a hand on Maggie's shoulder.

The Dread Wolf guides me... I must find a way to shake his influence...

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stop-breaking-my-heart-dragonage · 1 year ago

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I'm back on my bullshit thinking about the Hawke siblings again and how much I love a "both twins live" AU... but y'know what I love just a little bit more? An AU where all three Hawke siblings are alive, but one of the twins still get attacked by the ogre in Lothering and is presumed dead when they actually survived.

I like to think that since the narrative in DA2 is framed as a story Varric's telling Cassandra, we can play around with the fact that he's an unreliable narrator. Varric wasn't there in Lothering. He only knows what Hawke told him. It makes for a better story if Leandra, Hawke, and the surviving twin get to huddle around the dead twin and say their goodbyes... especially if they didn't actually get to do that. I mean, a lot of us already have that train of thought when it comes to Leandra's death and Hawke getting some closure through her final words telling them how proud she is. Whose to say Varric didn't do that for the lost twin, as well?

All that to ask what if the ogre attack happened, but the group was so overwhelmed by darkspawn they had to flee further and couldn't check the twin who "died?" Flemeth still showed up, but it was too late to go back and say goodbye.... so Hawke made a deal with the Witch of the Wilds and they all pushed forward to Kirkwall.

Imagine Bethany, left behind with broken bones and bleeding in the sand, fading in and out of consciousness as the remaining darkspawn surround her. She knows how to heal, how to fight back, but she's weakened. Her staff lays out of reach. Air shakes in her lungs. She tries to call for help, but only wheezes come out. Where's her mother? Her siblings? Did the ogre get them, too?

At this point, we all know what happens to the women darkspawn take, and Bethany could've met that fate; she doesn't have the strength to fight back as they drag her away. But before they can bring her underground, she's saved by another group of survivors. Perhaps they're more soldiers fleeing Ostagar, or townsfolk who recognize her from Lothering. They do what they can to treat her wounds but she needs a healer, so they bring her with them to seek refuge in Redcliffe... except they eventually realize she's an apostate. Well, she doesn't seem dangerous, but they still contact the templars.

Bethany wakes in a warm but unfamiliar bed with skilled healers tending to her. Templars hover by the doorway. First Enchanter Irving greets her, gentle in explaining she's safe inside of Kinloch Hold and that she's going to survive. When Bethany asks about her family, he gives her a sympathetic smile and says they only found her.

Bethany, who never took to embracing her magic the way her older sibling did and always felt like it burdened her family... has lost that very family. Could they survive the ogre and darkspawn? Or did the ogre tear them apart, too? How did she survive... but not them? Did the Maker really have such a sense of humor? How else would she end up in the Circle, a place her family went to great lengths to keep her safe from?

She doesn't want to think about it. She hopes they made it to Kirkwall, but the prickle of dread that crawls up her spine knows how unlikely it is. Bethany finds comfort in speaking with the mages who rotate in to heal and bring her food. Some feel trapped by their magic just as she does, but others remind her of her older sibling in the way they embrace their magic, a gift from the Maker. The younger apprentices who aid the mages ask her questions about what lies beyond the walls. The templars mostly keep their distance, but one is friendlier than others. A man with curly blonde hair and a sympathetic view of the mages bothers to speak to her more than his fellows do.

She's still in recovery when Uldred and his blood mages attack the tower, but she survives. Bethany heals, even as she's haunted by nightmares of the ogre wrapping its tainted hand around her body to crush her, flinging her aside to lay among the limp bodies of her family... haunted by the horrors the blood mages unleashed on the tower. She aids in restoring the tower the best she can, and accepts her new home, her new life. When she's well enough, she lights a candle for each of them; her father, mother, her eldest sibling, her twin... she even lights a candle for the family mabari, and prays to the Maker to give them her love as they stand at His side.

The Blight ends. Years pass. Bethany settles into her new life, becoming a fine example for the younger apprentices she mentors. She witnesses wrong doings against her fellow mages, loses friends to their harrowings or tranquility. She accepts what she is, even if bitterly. The Chantry's teachings about magic scar more than enlighten; she sees it in some of her fellow mages, feels it in herself. Secret meetings. Whispers of escape, of freedom. More escape attempts. Harsher restrictions.

Around this time, back in Kirkwall, Knight-Captain Cullen stands where he always does in the Gallows courtyard. He notices Hawke appear with some of their companions. It hurts to think back to Kinloch Hold, but something occurs to him: he knew of another Hawke who was brought to the Circle while he served there. They only spoke once before... well, before. He wonders if there's any relation. When Hawke wanders over to speak to him, as they always do, Cullen brings it up.

Hawke pales. A beat of silence. Cullen recognizes heartbreak; he sees it unfold in their eyes and swell in their throat as they realize that all this time, their baby sister was alive.

Then the day comes where new whispers float among the mages in the Circle. A visit by a Grey Warden. Most, including Bethany, assume he's here to recruit... until Irving comes to her. He says this warden's requested, though more like insisted, he see her now. But then Irving smiles; the warden in question said his name is Warden Carver. He received an urgent letter that his sister is here, alive, and he demands to know if that's true.

Bethany nearly collapses when she sees him.

While the reunion can't last; she can't leave the Circle and he has his calling; the twins embrace, sobbing out apologies and exclamations that they thought the other was gone. Carver tells her of Kirkwall, the expedition that led him to the Grey Wardens, and their older sibling's status as Champion. With a gentleness she never knew her brother to have, he tells her what happened to their mother, and more tears flow freely. Their sibling learned about her from a templar, though Carver grumbles that the bastard could've said something sooner.

There's the Maker's humor again.

...Now flip the script: imagine Carver being left behind instead.

For as strong and passionate as he is, that ogre still picks him up and slams him to the ground. Bones crack. Black splotches flood his vision, agony exploding across his skin. His sword flies from his hand. The soulless bastard tosses Carver aside like he's nothing, and he's left to lay there. His mother's cries muffle in his ear as though he's stuck underwater, sinking slowly into the dark.

It figured, honestly... that he'd survive Ostagar while his fellow soldiers were cut down all around him, that he and his eldest sibling would flee the field when all hope was lost... that he'd make it home to get his family out of Lothering... only to die protecting his mother. And why not? He is a protector. A warrior. It's a honor to die saving those he loved... so why didn't it give him peace?

Carver eventually wakes in the night among the bodies of fallen darkspawn. Everything aches painfully hot and his thoughts reject coherency. He knows his family is gone; they're dead, or they've fled... either way, he's alone; left behind. Something's broken inside of him, but he has just enough will to pull himself up at the sound of approaching footsteps. A group of survivors find him- funny enough, the same group who aided Bethany in an alternate timeline. Imagine that.

That's how Carver ended up in Redcliffe's Chantry with an overworked healer tending to him. He doesn't even flinch when the mage works their magic on him, knowing all too well the sensation of healing magic seeping into his skin, mending the flesh. He tries not to think of Bethany, or what might've happened to her.

The Chantry's overwhelmed with townspeople hiding from a danger outside that he can only assume is darkspawn... except it's not. He wonders how hard he hit his head when he hears the undead have come from the castle to slaughter what they can of the town every night. But then he sees it with his own eyes when one breaks in, taken down by a templar, and never before has he ever felt so useless.

Then the last two remaining Grey Wardens arrive. They're crucial in the final fight against the undead, swearing to enter the castle to stop the attacks at the source. While Carver couldn't participate in the final fight, something he complained loudly about, he did what he could in his condition to help like sharpening swords and handing out supplies. Mostly to keep his sanity and quite his thoughts throughout his recovery.

When the time came, he took up his sword again in the name of all those he lost.

An archdemon was said to be on the horizon, and the Grey Wardens needed everyone they could get to fight. Carver fights in the battle of Denerim where the Hero of Fereldan defeated the archdemon. He cuts his way through every darkspawn he sees. Ostagar flashes red behind his eyes. Lothering clutches at his heart. So much anger and sorrow built up inside him, flooding out in his tears and screams. Blood everywhere. Fire and smoke.

Then it's over.

In the aftermath of the Blight, like so many others, Carver has no home to return to. No family. He thinks to go back to Lothering to help rebuild, only to hear the lands were too tainted. These tainted creatures took everything from him... That's what eventually brings him to Vigil's Keep, standing before the Hero of Fereldan themself, asking to be made a Grey Warden. He already dedicated nearly two years of his life to killing darkspawn, and he had nothing else. Even when faced with the Joining, holding the chalice of darkspawn blood and being told to drink, he didn't flinch.

Life as a Grey Warden isn't as simple as he assumed it would be, but Carver finds purpose in his calling. Over the years, he grows to view his fellow wardens as family. He travels all over Thedas, venturing down into the Deep Roads to help clear out hoards of the darkspawn. But then comes the day he finds himself in Kirkwall, and it doesn't take long before he hears the name Hawke on the lips of the townspeople. His eldest sibling was not only alive, but they're quite popular among the people. But what about Mother? Bethany? He doesn't have to snoop too far to learn templars took Bethany away to the Gallows, and that Leandra Hawke was the final victim in a string of murders committed by a blood mage.

Carver finds himself standing outside the estate, glaring at the door. Furious. Heartbroken. Bitter. He wants to scream. This entire time, they lived. He's torn between wanting to reunite with his older sibling again, to get the truth from them, and wanting to barge into the estate, demanding answers to how they could let the Circle take Bethany... after what Carver sacrificed, how could they let Mother die like that? Was it all pointless in the end?

He leaves without knocking. He can't bring himself to see them. Not that it mattered. Before he could leave Kirkwall, the tensions with the qunari finally overflowed, and chaos fell upon the city. He's forced face to face with his older sibling again, but he wasn't prepared to watch the recognition slowly bloom on their face, or for all his anger to turn to mush. Carver's the first to speak.

"Somehow, I knew it would be you."

.............So, yeah. I really like this idea.

#da2 #dragon age 2 #bethany hawke #carver hawke #long post #there are so many routes you can take with this too like hawke finds out bethany's alive in fereldan's circle #and they gather all their companions like 'y'all we're doing a heist' 'great what are we stealing?' 'my sister'#'...isn't your sister dead?' 'APPARENTLY NOT'#or carver and anders could know each other from the wardens and one day anders tells hawke that they remind him of another warden he knew #and hawke is like '.............that little shit survived and he didn't tell me?? i'm telling mother'#OR both bethany and carver end up as wardens and happen to run into each other like '????? I thought you were dead?????'#and tbh bethany doesn't have to end up in the circle or carver with the wardens. that's just the paths i explored #maybe they're found by the warden and alistair who have wynne fix them up and they join the dao party #hell this could be backstory for an inquisitor carver or inquisitor bethany in dai #also yes this post is my way of saying that i love this idea but i'll probably never turn it into a fic so let me gush about it this way

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