#it was templars it's always templars he's never going to be rid of them

[freedcmscall]

you know, if you need advice on how to lay low i can give you some."

@savingthrcw

Anders barked out a laugh at the suggestion. Jokes, yes, jokes were the best medicine. He would know, he was a healer by nature and by practice, of course. And laughter always could be counted on to cover up any potential hurt that may have lurked below.

"Oh, and what makes you think I'm terrible at laying low myself?" He let the laugh trail off to a chuckle with a shake of his head. "Is it the fact that Templars seem unendingly able to find me, perhaps? Or the fact that they've been so regularly successful in dragging me back to the Circle, kicking and screaming and wishing I could be anywhere but there?" He bit his tongue. Right, time to stop talking before he said too much, after all. He had always been talkative, sometimes too much so (except for when he wasn't, when he got his new name. She didn't need to hear about that. No one did).

"I'd be perfectly able to disappear into the woods and never be found again, if I needed to. You know, if not for the blood magic that binds all of us poor souls to the whims of the Chantry and its Circles."

[sneaky-eel]

Sense Ubisoft decided to give us jack shit on Desmond's mother I wanted to do my own little head-canon of her.

Desmond's mother is a cold, no-nonsense woman. A prodigy in her own right who was probably one of the options for the next mentor, but preferred field work. Her acts of love are through services and what is a better service to those she loves then ridding the world of templars. The longest she probably went without being out in the field was when Desmond was born and it isn't till he is 5 or 6 that she goes back out. Now she is working twice as hard. Not just for her fellow assassins, but now she has a son. A son who will be forced to do this same exact thing if she doesn't do something.

So she is around less and less. One day here, two days there. And maybe she thinks she is doing her family a favor. She deludes herself into thinking this will push Bill and Desmond closer together. Desmond will love Bill more because he is there and she is not. But it has the opposite effect. As he gets older Desmond starts to resent Bill. He can never be good enough. Never strong enough or fast enough. He is subjected to a constant stream of belittlement from his father. Bill works all the time and Desmond hates that he is forced to have dinners at an empty table all alone while Bill is in his office. So close but still too far.

But his mother? Oh his mother is his hero because all this time he has been building in his head the idea of what his mother is. An ideal mother. "Yeah she isn't here cause she is keeping us safe. Everyone says how great she is. The best of the best." He tells himself. Then as he gets older he starts to compare Bill to this idea of his mother. "If mom was here she'd be able to explain this better to me. She is really smart.", "When mom gets back I'm sure she can help me with this move. She's the best.", "Once mom gets here we can have dinner like a family, maybe we can cook together." on and on.

Finally, at 16, his mother is home for the first time for a longer than a day. Two whole weeks in fact. And he is so excited only for that reunion to be awkward and kind of cold. He doesn't get those meals together like he hoped. Training with her is worse than his father. With Bill he had learned when the man is actually paying attention and where, which allowed Desmond to slack in other areas, but with his mother she is always watching. She nitpicks every movement and doesn't seem to understand why he can't get something on the first try. She pushes Desmond well past exhaustion and makes him train even past that. Desmond's carefully crafted view of his mother is destroyed in just a few days leaving him empty and convinced that neither of his parents actually love him.

From Desmond's mother's point of view the reunion is "cold" because she doesn't know what to say to her son. She has been gone for so much of his life and the only things she really knows about him are through Bill. She knows he has potential, but he is "disinterested" and "never takes anything seriously" so in training she pushes him. She has been a field agent this whole time. She knows that a single misstep can mean death and Desmond is already 16. In a few more years they will send him on his first mission and she will be damned if she lets him die. Those missed meals together? She is with Bill in his office helping with his work and on occasion they will sit there with a bottle of scotch between them, talking about life before. Before he had to be mentor, when they had at least a little time to themselves. A little time for each other. She doesn't see what she is doing to Desmond.

When it's time for her to leave again she doesn't question Desmond's lack of smile or how he says he is going to go "train", she only thinks 'Good. He is going to start taking things more seriously.' She doesn't think anything is wrong when she gets off the plane and she drives to the safe-house. She doesn't know that Desmond has snuck out. Ran away from the home he believes never even cared about him. Nothing is wrong until Bill calls her and says the three words the shatters her world.

"Desmond is gone."

[sulky-valkyrie]

vaaaaaaaaaaaaaal for kanders!!! 'hiding your feelings, not wanting to ruin the friendship, even going as far as avoiding each other completely, yet always ending up sharing an intimate moment'

happpy Fridaaaaaaaaaaaaaay, Ro 💙💙💙

for @dadrunkwriting

After Karl was Harrowed, Anders thought whatever they had was over.  Not that they had much, or that he didn't want more, of course; everything about Karl drove him to distraction.  But Karl was special, so special that he'd never tried to even kiss him.  He was tender and kind, and the first person in this Maker-forsaken tower who'd tried to talk to a twelve year old boy who was too scared to speak.

It was Karl who'd turned “that Ander boy” into a name, and never laughed at his rusty voice and thick backwater accent when he began to talk months later.

It was Karl who'd shown him how to mend the fraying edges on his tiny embroidered pillow.

It was Karl who’d sat on his cot and healed the bruises and gashes left by Templar gauntlets when they'd dragged him back to Kinloch, drugged on magebane and unable to do it himself.

So it was perfectly normal that Anders had become… attached.  But attachments of any kind were dangerous for mages.  He tried to ignore it, and filled that aching void in his heart with meaningless trysts.  Each one, no matter how satisfying in the moment, left him more empty inside, wishing for soft greying hair under his fingers and a beard rasping on his skin.  He told himself time and time again that Karl was too important to risk losing, whether to rejection or something worse.  

But Karl, sweet gentle Karl, didn't seem to understand.  And telling him would be tantamount to confessing to the blasted feelings he'd been attempting to rid himself of for years.  No matter how much he tried to avoid him, everywhere he went, Karl was there too.  He was in the kitchens, the library, the chapel, even the apprentice dorms, always with some reason to be there, but looking at Anders the whole time.  The tower wasn't large enough to never see him, of course, but the frequency was worrisome.  Provided the Templars weren’t involved, apprentices were granted more leeway for misbehavior.  They were the lowest of the low, so far down the hierarchy that even the Tranquil were above them.  Tranquil were useful, after all.  Apprentices were simply nuisances and, as long as nothing was actually on fire, they were just swatted away, like gnats.

Full enchanters, however, were expected to set an example.  One of cowed competence.  Karl was a natural at it, full of studious deference.  Associating with a mouthy troublemaking apprentice would get him noticed in all the wrong ways.

Distance was the only defense, but if Karl wouldn’t take the hint, Anders would have to do what he did best.  He ran.

They caught him a week later, and of fucking course, Karl was there when the dragged him in by the back of his collar.  Greagoir ordered that he be locked up below, but when Karl whispered something in his ear, he sighed and told Anders he was confined to his dorm.  Another Templars grabbed him by the elbow, but before he could struggle, Karl stepped in front of them and took his other hand.  “I'll escort him.”

The Templar paused, but at Greagoir's nod, released him.  Karl bowed ever so slightly, then pulled him down the hall without another word.

They wound their way up to the second level before Karl let go, and the absence of his touch was as painful as the quiet disapproval that radiated from him.  When they reached Anders’ dorm room, he pushed it open and stomped to his bed to throw himself on it.  “You shouldn't have done that.”  You're painting a target on your back.

Karl closed the door and walked over to sit down by his head and stroke the scratches on his neck.  “Did they hurt you?”  An unspoken again hovered in the air.

“Just a smite,” he muttered into the pillow as he forced himself not to lean into his fingers.  “Knocked me out of a tree.”

“I wish…” Karl's voice trembled and trailed off as he healed Anders’ broken skin.  “You need to be more careful.”

He bit back a sigh of longing and rolled away.  “No, you need to be more careful,” he grumbled.  “Sticking your neck out like that?  It's not worth it.”

“What's - Anders, what's gotten into you?”

Anders dug his fingers into his palm and squeezed his eyes shut.  “You shouldn't be here,” he whispered.  “Leave me alone.”

“Irving's orders,” Karl said.  “Why do you think you're not in a cell?”  He touched his shoulder.  “I'm – we're trying to protect you.  Even if he hadn't asked, I'd be here.  Like always.”

He hunched up and shook his head.  “Go away.”  They hate me already; don't make them hate you too. 

He felt the bed shift as Karl inched closer.  “Anders, look at me,” he pleaded.  “Look me in the eyes and say that again.  Please.”

Maker, it was so hard to disobey that voice.  All he ever wanted other than to get out was to make Karl happy, but happiness wasn’t safe here. Nothing was.  “I – I won't try anything until curfew,” he whispered.  “So they know you didn't have anything to do with it.”  

“Try what?  Anders, I – you haven’t talked to me in weeks and then you ran again and now you’re back and I… what did I do?  Let me fix it,”  Karl begged.  “I – we were friends, and now you won't even look at me.”

Friends.  The word made him want to shrivel up and die.  Just friends, nothing more, never anything more.  He rolled back over, still not meeting his gaze, and grabbed his hand.  “You didn't do anything.  I just – we can't.  You're Harrowed now; they're watching you, and I –” he bit his lip.  “It would kill me if anything happened to you.  So I need-”  He swallowed.  “Need you to go away.”

Karl’s fingers slipped from his grip, then touched his chin.  “And what about me?”  He asked softly.  “What about what I want?  Do you have any idea how much it scares me when you run?  How awful it feels to hope I won't see you again?  How many nights I've spent terrified they'd killed you already and I'd never know?”  His thumb slid across Anders’ cheek, trailing remnants of magic on his skin.  “Don't I get a say in this?  In what - in who is worth the risk?”

What could he say to that?  Anders looked up, finally meeting his eyes, and what he saw in them ripped his heart in two.  One half grew wings and fluttered in his throat while the other sank like a stone to the pit of his belly.  He hadn't seen it in years, but recognized it instantly: love.

Fuck it.

He sat up, afraid to look away and lose the moment (or his nerve), and leaned forward to press their foreheads together.  “Give me a reason to stay,” he breathed, willing him to understand.  Tell me I'm worth it.

Karl tilted his head ever so slightly, just enough that Anders could feel his breath ghost over his lips.  “What about this?” he asked, then closed that final infinitely long inch, the one that had been between them for years, to kiss him.  It was hesitant and slow, like he was afraid Anders might not want it, like he didn’t want to take it if it wasn’t freely given.  

Oh, but it was.  It was.  Anders sighed against Karl’s mouth and pulled him closer, kissing him back and pouring years of feelings into it, until they were dizzy and breathless and somehow he was on his back and Karl was on top of him and it was so right and he was so ready and –

“Not like this,” Karl murmured when they finally broke apart, then he pushed himself up, leaning on one arm and resting his palm over Anders’ racing heart.  “I want it to be special.  Can you wait?”  He glanced away and added, “I mean, is that a reason to stay?”

Anders couldn’t help the smile that crept across his face.  “You’re just trying to drag this out and keep me here longer.”

“Is it working?”

He caught the edge of Karl’s collar and tugged him back down.  “Ask me next week.”

[transandersrights]

Anders, the player, and betrayal

This actually Is (I think) an unpopular Anders opinion but I don't think his lying to you about the Chantry boom constitutes a betrayal any more than the Chantry boom itself. Ignoring the fact that I have literally seen people call any element of a romance they don't like a betrayal (ie long distance with Dorian, Morrigan's whole deal), I think people are keen to throw around the word in specific ways.

I'm going to define it like this: a betrayal means undertaking an action, either materially or verbally, that would cause harm to the person you're betraying (or the reverse, for a vital action that would prevent harm. For example, refusing to help Fenris get rid of Danarius would be a betrayal). By that definition, the Chantry boom is a betrayal if it would harm or result in harm to Hawke.

The Chantry boom does not physically target Hawke, or anyone other than those in the Chantry at the time - which is very few people. So it's not a direct betrayal. It does, however, threaten Hawke with harm to the extent that Hawke would inevitably be involved in the conflict that follows - if Hawke is a mage, it puts them in harm's way, and if Bethany is alive and in the Circle then it puts Hawke's family at risk. However, this is the action that Anders/Handers fans are most likely to say is not betrayal. I'll get into that later.

On the other hand, there's the lying to Hawke bit. Because Anders does intentionally deceive Hawke… but not to their detriment. It is Hawke's lack of knowledge of the Chantry boom that means they're not also immediately singled out for execution like Anders is after the boom. If Hawke sides with the Templars, it is their lack of knowledge that can allow them to become Viscount. When Anders lies to Hawke, it's not to their loss. It doesn't put them at risk. It is, by some definition, the opposite of betrayal, because the only way that knowing can benefit them is either preparing for it (and Hawke should be preparing for things to go tits up anyway, considering the events of Act 3) or preventing it from happening in the first place (impossible, in the framework of the game - because we always have to remember when considering DA characters that they're just that: characters, constrained by the fact that the game has a single end point. Even if you don't buy that, the point of this post is the distinction drawn between the boom and Anders lying about it, so if you want to have the option to stop him then this isn't directed at you lmao).

So here, we reach the point: the Chantry boom is, by a pretty reasonable reckoning, more of a betrayal of Hawke than lying about it is. The former endangers Hawke; the latter protects them. When Anders lied, he was acting in Hawke's best interests. The distinction I'm specifically drawing here is: 1 - if you do something bad to someone and never tell them, it's betrayal 2 - if you do something good to them and never tell them, it's not betrayal 3 - if you do something good and tell them, it's not betrayal 4 - if you do something bad and tell them, it's betrayal

If the Chantry boom is seen as a bad action towards Hawke, then it is always bad, no matter when Anders tells them. If the Chantry boom is not bad, then telling or not telling them makes no difference to whether it's bad or not. If you lie about a good thing, it's still a good thing!

At worst, Anders’ lies are an intentional deception for a Hawke who he doesn’t even like. They’re not a lack of trust, they’re an act of mercy. Anders looks at Hawke and doesn’t want them tarred with the same brush as him; he doesn’t have a way out, but maybe they do. So: why do people say that Anders' lies are a betrayal? The reason I usually see is that he should have trusted them, but Anders has a canon answer to that very question: he did. The lies were for Hawke's benefit. He trusted them to do whatever they saw fit in response to the boom, but didn't want to see them lose out from a choice they wouldn't be able to sway him from. (Also, it's not like he's subtle about what he's doing. The rails the game puts the player on are not Anders' characterisation - if anything, they're Hawke's.)

The other thing I see people say is that Anders should have given them the choice to support or reject him before he did it. But it's not actually a choice that involves Hawke specifically. Why don't people frame Anders' decision as a betrayal of the other people in the party? Or of the entire city of Kirkwall? Plenty of writing surrounding the end of the game or after it is happy to do that, but that's also linked with seeing the boom as a bad thing. Again; they're not separable elements in that framework.

The one exception here is that I think it’s reasonable to say that your Hawke might feel betrayed by Anders’ actions when he lied to them. They’re in the thick of it, they have the ultimate perspective on how they would react to him telling the truth. But the player is not Hawke, and it’s the player who tends to talk about how Anders made them feel by lying.

This is potentially going to sound a little uncharitable, but at the end of the day, I think that the dislike of Anders’ choice not to speak to Hawke about his plans has very little to do with Hawke and everything to do with the player as an observer but also participator in the narrative. I’ve already gone into why I find it difficult to see Anders as having wronged Hawke — but he does, technically, wrong the player.

As the player, the game reveals (almost) all to us. When a character goes behind our backs, taking away our agency in a game that is, to a lot of people, meaningfully choice-based, it can feel like betrayal. Anders isn’t doing it for our benefit — he conceals his actions from a player only his writers know exists. Can you betray someone you don’t know exists by lying to them?

It isn’t Hawke who’s entitled to the knowledge of Anders’ plans; it’s the player who feels entitled to it. Anders exercises a power over the narrative that the player does not have, and the writers choose to have him do so without our input. The Chantry boom is his ultimate act of agency on more than one level, and players don’t like it. Anyway that’s my salty rant that went off in multiple directions.

Funnily enough, I started writing this with the viewpoint that I was going to argue that Anders’ actions weren’t betrayal. Instead, I want to leave you with this: it can be a betrayal, but only if you acknowledge the Chantry boom as one as well. If you think it isn’t, then he didn’t wrong anyone except your own desire to know and have a hand in everything that your allies do. One of the best things about DAII is that your companions really do have lives and wishes of their own, and wanting to be with them every step of the way just isn’t the way it works.

[sweetcocopowder]

A Night of Christmas | Shaytham Oneshot

Synopsis: Christmas has rolled around and while Shay is out celebrating, Haytham is brooding. And it's on this night that Shay finds a little understanding on why Haytham doesn't enjoy this time of year.

Word Count: 2.8K

Genre: Angsty/Assassin's Creed Rogue

Pairing: Shay Cormac/Haytham Kenway

Other: Credit to @benkeibear for the divider. I know this is weird getting tagged in a random ass assassin's creed fic. But I hold up to the credit tag haha.

Christmas had its perks. Some bad and some… not as bad. But it’s a time that Haytham never truly celebrated. And that was something Shay found out pretty early on in being a Templar under his eye.

Every year, Shay had just found it as an accuse to drink is merry way. And it seemed like Gist did the same thing. Which was something that Shay appreciated cause the only thing he didn’t want is to be drinking alone again. Liam had given it up for his duties for the Creed. Saying that there was no time to hunker down and celebrate when there was shit happening in the world. Liam’s words, not anyone else’s.

The Greenwich tavern is lively on Christmas. The entire crew of the Morrigan is resided there. The man that owns the tavern -Stocky Dave- is a man that is greedy for money. And if there’s money to be made, Christmas is just another pay check in his books. Which means, Stocky Dave is probably the only tavern open on Christmas day. While every other owner is taking this time off to spend their night with their families or friends.

It’s hard to walk from the entrance to the bar as it is. Every single man is shoulder to shoulder and bellowing out their lungs to sing along to the out of tune piano in the corner. One of the crew members play a carol behind the janky keys, keeping everyone in tune. As best as he can. Everyone sounds like nails on a broken chalk board. In their drunken haze though they sound like angels of the heavens singing upon humanity with finely aged wine in their hands.

Gist pulls darts from the dart board with a drunken, sloppy hand. He chuckles to himself as he drops one of them, his fingers numb with ale. Shay watches him a couple of feet away, waiting for his first mate to come back with the darts. He sways where he stands, a cheeky grin upon his face as some of his crew members shove and push behind him. Some slapping him on the shoulder and others pestering in his ear.

He’s winning at darts. Against Gist, it’s not much of a challenge. His first mate thought he could best him when lost in drink. But that was his first mistake. Shay has a keen eye and even drunk as a skunk, he’s still able to hit the target. Even if he be a bit off at times, ninety percent he’s spot on.

…Lets make that eighty percent to be on the safer side.

Any other time, Shay would have told his crew members off. Told Gist that he has other matters to attend to. But it’s Christmas. And for the first time, it’s as if Haytham hasn’t got anything for them to do or any leads to go after. Which has led all of them here. Drinking and forgetting about yesterday, tomorrow and today.

Gist spews the darts into Shay’s hand, chuckling to himself as some of them fall out of his captain’s hands. One thing Shay has learnt knowing Gist. Is that the man is always sipping on his flask that he keeps inside of his coat. Leaving him smelling of whiskey at every turn. But, when the man drinks, he turns into a big child. A big man child.

With the darts Shay has, he holds one between his thumb and forefinger. He pinches one eye closed to aim down the board. But that doesn’t help the target from forming two on the wall. He thought one eye would at least get rid of the doubling up. He throws the dart, aiming in between the two hoping that somehow, he’ll get something.

The dart hits the wall with a loud thunk, nowhere near the board. He must be losing his touch tonight. Gist grabs onto the back of his shoulders and shakes him violently.

“You’ve lost, Shay! Another miss and you’ll be buying the next round!” His first mate shouts in his ear.

It’s deafening and Shay shies away from Gist. But his mate pays no attention to his discomfort. His mind is only the on round of ale that is going to be coming his way in mere seconds.

Now Shay can’t miss.

He wipes a hand down his face, feeling the sweat he smears off his brow. He didn’t realize how hot it had become in the tavern until right now. He’s sweating and can feel his shirt and vest sticking to him, coat long forgotten somewhere in the tavern. Just glad he took it off earlier tonight instead of sweating in the leather. Last thing he would want to do his to treat the coat with a massive hangover.

The two dart boards suddenly come together and Shay quickly aims with another dart. If he starts seeing double again, he’s undeniably going to be seeing the last of his coin leave his hand tonight. He aims with both eyes this time, and throws.

Bullseye.

Three men that have been watching the entire game suddenly rise in a roar of cheer. Louder than the carol being sung and only for a moment does it stutter. But it picks right up real quick after. Gist stares at the board with wide eyes before quickly composing himself. He may be a drunk, but he ain’t an angry drunk.

He holds out his hand to Shay with a cheesy grin. His captain takes it, shaking strongly. If Shay has learnt at least one thing tonight, he’s still good at darts while half a barrel in.

“I’ll grab us another round, aye!” Gist says as he’s already pushing himself through the crowd, trying to find the bar within the hoard of other drunken men.

Shay can’t help the chuckle that escapes his throat. He looks around the tavern, spotting many of his crew mingled in with others local to New York. But something catches his eye. In the front window of the tavern.

Haytham.

Haytham stands sideways looking in, inspecting the crowd that’s making the night rowdy. He’s still dressed up in his blue attire with his tricorn hat upon his head. His eyes dart from man to man like a cat watching prey. As if he had been walking past and stopped to see what all the fuss was about.

Shay’s stare is finally met with Haytham’s. The Grandmaster seems to straighten up, his eyes not leaving Shay’s. What is Haytham doing here? Is he looking for Shay? Has something come up? After that thought, Haytham moves off and out of sight.

Shay moves before he’s even thinking. He pushes through the crowd and being a large man himself, he gets through quite easily. He throws the tavern doors open and the cold air hits him in the face, shocking him. He blinks as if waking up from a dream, his eyes adjusting to his surroundings.

It’s faintly snowing. The New York street is already softly covered in a thin layer of white, giving everything a misty feel. Shay quickly spots the back of Haytham’s cloak walking under a lamp light.

“Haytham!” Shay calls out, running to the Grandmaster without thinking.

Too much ale fills his mind to think properly at this time of night. He’s lost track of what hour it is and it must be late. Or early for that matter it could be some time in the morning.

Haytham stops in his tracks under a lamp and turns to Shay, his face as flat as a day with no wind. He may show no emotion, but it’s already warning enough to tread lightly. Shay may have seen this sober, but not tonight. He stops a little too close to Haytham, the strong smell of alcohol scrunching the British man’s nose up slightly.

“What has you out tonight?” Shay asks with a grin.

 “A ponder is all.”

“A ponder out for me?” Shay steps a little closer. “I’m charmed.”

Haytham takes a large step away out of the street light. Shay straightens up suddenly, finally catching the hint. He clears his throat, taking a glance back to the tavern and around. No one is out on the street. They are either inside with their own family and friends or drinking like the rest in the tavern or little ally ways that no one stupid enough is to go down.

Shay licks his lips. “Want to join us?” He offers.

“No,” is all he gets back as blunt as an iron hammer.

Shay reaches out and grabs onto Haytham’s hand. But, unlike many a times before he’s done such a simple act, Haytham rips his own from Shay’s. The captain sobers up real quick then and there. His brows furrow and he stares at Haytham, looking for an answer. All he’s met with though is a cruel glare that Shay knows all too well.

“Like I said, I’m out for a ponder. Nothing more,” Haytham strikes back. “Not here to get drunk over a Christian holiday that marks no greater cause.”

A cord is struck inside of Shay and it hurts a slight. Something that shows clear on his face with a furrowed brow and open mouth. He wishes he could snap. Could say many a things. But this is Haytham Kenway. He cannot and should not. He keeps those angered words to himself.

“I’ll leave you be, Haytham,” Shay takes a small step aways. “I’ll see you morning come.”

With that, Shay heads back to the tavern in a sour mood hanging heavy over his head. Haytham doesn’t reply back, letting him storm back down the way he came. The rest of the night will be spent drinking in sorrow and not glee. Something that Gist catches onto straight away.

Shay gets to the bottom of his free drink of the night before he decides to call it in for Christmas. It wouldn’t even be classified as Christmas anymore since it is the next day already. That wouldn’t matter for the crew until the sun comes up over the horizon.

Alone, Shay plods home with his coat draped over his arm. His hidden blade bracers weigh heavy on his arms and heave down on his shoulders. He feels like he’s dragging his boots across the pavement with each step he takes. By God will he feel this in the morning. If any one were to sneak up on his drunk ass right now, they’d be able to get a few good hits in. So, to prevent that happening, Shay continues plodding.

Shay remembers his early years when he use to live with his aunt. It wasn’t for long, but he got a good few Christmas’s with her. The first one, it hadn’t been too long after his father had passed out at sea. It was the first time that Shay had felt some sort of happiness after those events. Liam had come to visit but he wasn’t there for long. It was just him and his aunt. It was a mellow day, sat around the fire place keeping warm. Yet, it is a memory to a hold tight on. A moment that pops up every time around this time of year.

Somehow, Shay arrives at the bridge to Fort Arsenal unharmed. He huffs as he opens the gates that creak loudly in the night. It scratches at his ears and nearly all of Greenwich would have heard. He locks it behind him and makes his way to the manor.

The front door opens with ease.

Shay lets the door open by itself as he blinks once, twice and thrice. He knows he locked it. He steps in with hesitance and gives a quick sweep of the manor. The fire place is lit, crackling and burning bright as if it’s been eating at the wood for an hour or so.

Haytham sits on the lounge in front of the fire with his hands twinned in front of him. He stares at the fire in his own world, the light flickering over his hardened features. He doesn’t look to Shay or even acknowledge his arrival.

His hat has been placed on the table in front of him and his coat hangs next to Shay’s head at the entrance. He’s made himself at home and waiting like a house wife. Waiting for Shay to get back from his long trip away at sea. Or, waiting for him to get back home from his long day at work. It almost feels like that to Shay, but he can’t help but feel like a child coming home to his aunt waiting to discipline him for being out too late.

Without a word, Shay sits down on the far end of the same lounge from Haytham. He looks into the fire, wanting to see what has Haytham so interested. A coal pops and a half burnt log falls into the ashes. Like fireflies, coal spews up into the chimney.

“Have you ever had a proper Christmas?” The question slips through ale soaked lips.

A silence follows that is filled with thought. Haytham breathes in heavily and releases it with a sigh.

“I don’t think I have,” Haytham admits.

Shay looks to him softly with a better understanding of him. Maybe not much. But those few words are much more than he would have offered to anyone else in the Order or in the street.

“Not even when you were a youngling?” Shay prods.

A lost look comes to Haytham as the fire dances in his eyes. He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

“If we had, I was far too young to remember.”

A lie. But one that Shay won’t nudge at. He only hums in reply and looks to the fire a moment more. His eyes droop and his attention wavers as tiredness washes over him like waves. If he stays here any longer, he’ll fall asleep.

With a huff, Shay stands to his feet and walks a couple of steps before stopping. All so that he’s standing on the other side of Haytham.

“Would you like to join me for bed?” Shay asks with a short, outstretched hand.

Haytham finally looks at him, staring to the hand in front of him. The smallest of smiles itch at his lips as he shakes his head just as lightly.

“I won’t join a man that smells as if he’s fallen into a barrel of ale,” Haytham declares with a queer tone.

Shay can’t blame the man. He wouldn’t want to either. Not sober nor even a little tipsy. And he doesn’t think Haytham would get pissed drunk just to join him in bed to help aid his own hangover in the morning.

Instead, Shay leans down heavily with a hand on the arm rest and gives Haytham a soft kiss on the cheek. One that Haytham leans into ever so faintly with closed eyes.

With unspoken words, Shay calls in for the night. All while Haytham recalls his own first Christmas in front of the burning fire. His first Christmas with his father that he can proudly remember.

T’was early in the morning when Jenny had batted him over the face with a pillow. Shouting in his face that Christmas had arrived. That all he was getting was coal in his stockings this year. Haytham had shouted and protested that he had been good. Had raced down the stairs to prove his half sister wrong.

He remembers his father standing by the fire place. He can’t remember his face now. Long blurred and forgotten by events that would take a couple of years later. But he does remember the wide grin that wrinkled his eyes. A smile that made Haytham’s heart bloom something warm.

That day, his father had gifted him something so dear. A model ship. His own model ship that Haytham had kept in his room. Looked upon each night before he fell asleep. Wondered what it would be like to sail out to sea on such a thing. Have the breeze in his hair and the salt on his lips. What an innocent thought for such a young boy.

One that went up in flames like the model ship. One long forgotten until days like this. When everyone around would cheer and celebrate such a wholesome day. Haytham could only sit and think about the what ifs. What if he had sailed, something akin to the freedom that Shay has now. What if he had become the man his father would adore into his adult hood. What if he could remember his father’s face one last night. Not out of shame or pity. But one out of pride and joy.

Only if…

[pinkfadespirit]

Happy Friday!! How about something for Anders/Karl Thekla for "Watching the stars from the window of a Circle" from the DA inspired prompts?

Thank you for the prompt! Here's some bittersweet Kanders for @dadrunkwriting

The windows in Kinloch Hold were largely inaccessible, on floors that were out of bounds to apprentices, or positioned far too high to really see out of, as though to discourage any thought of there being a world beyond the walls of the tower. It was probably for that exact reason that Anders had once had a fascination with them. Nothing ever seemed to make him want something more than being told he couldn't have it, especially when it was templars doing the telling. He’d dedicate hours to plotting how he might reach one of them and whether doing so might provide his next means of escape.

He hadn't been thinking about that so much recently. The windows were still there, just out of reach, like the world beyond them, but there had been something new over the last year or so, that he wasn't supposed to want, and which had been filling his every waking thought – and, more often than not, his dreams too. 

The thing about Karl was that he wasn't out of reach. Most of the time he was right there, and all Anders had to do was wait for those rare moments when there was no templar about to see them, take Karl's hand in his own and pull him off to some quiet corner, where he could bring all those things he kept dreaming about a little closer to reality. No amount of stolen moments where he pressed himself close to Karl and tried to forget for a little while seemed to be enough. 

Tonight Anders found him looking up at one of those windows. The only thing visible through it was a small swatch of dark sky, lit by a handful of stars. Not even enough to make up a full constellation, but Karl couldn't take his eyes off them, even as Anders sidled up beside him. 

He didn't speak. That was one of the weird things about being with Karl; he didn't always feel like he needed to. Even though Anders hardly shut up most of the time. He didn’t know why exactly, if it was just discomfort with silence, or a need to prove he was still there and they hadn’t broken him yet. Maybe it was just a need for connection. Maybe it was all of the above. None of that mattered with Karl. He could just be with him. Anders didn't know what that meant, or at least, he tried not to think about it. He just slipped his hand into Karl's. 

He could guess what he was thinking. It had been so long since any of them but the newest apprentices had seen more than a handful of stars at a time. But the memory of it never left him. It left an ache inside him that could never be satisfied as long as he was stuck inside these walls. No amount of time spent hidden behind bookcases, stealing kisses was going to rid him of that. but with nothing else to fill that void it was certainly worth trying. Later, though, maybe. If there was time. 

For now, there didn’t seem to be anyone else around, templar or otherwise, so he leaned into Karl’s side. Then the hand he’d been holding slipped out of his grip and came to wrap around his waist instead. It was the small things, he thought, that kept you going in a place like this; those gestures that went unnoticed by anyone but you. Except that this thing, this feeling growing inside him whenever Karl was close, didn’t feel small at all. He pressed in closer, as close as he could get, with his own arm wrapped around Karl, and tried not to think about what he’d do when it all got too much to contain.

[anonymousfoz]

Old character introduction (Trans French Knight)

Note: This was for a manga project that I pulled out of due to poor leadership, So I haven't done anything to this character since then.

Backstory

Born in September 1284, Johann Violette was the fifth child of a noble family with seven other siblings. After she had turned 5 she had only 4 siblings left. She was different from the others due to her desire to fight in battles like Joan of Arc. She and her peasant friend Amiles often played and pretended to go on crusades. For whatever reason crows tended to follow the young child. Her parents and siblings were scared of her due to this. But Amiles never was. Amiles didn’t mind the crows and befriended them. Thus the crows never attacked the children who were nice to them. But that's another story for a different day. After their first meet the two quickly became friends and eventually shared their dreams.  The two of them took an oath to become knights, vowing that they would become honorable knights. Unfortunately, when they were ten, Amiles was accused of stealing a ring that Johann had given to him, but Johann's father did not see it that way. Amiles was then killed by her father, with her and Amiles family as witnesses.  Amiles lifeless body scared her. The sound of Amiles’ mother sobbing at the death of her child and The angry caws coming from the crows was all too much for the young Johann to handle. She couldn't believe her father, that tyrant. She no longer wanted to be a part of his family. Then she ran away to get rid of everything that reminded her of him, including her identity.  She became Amis Corbin, a male commerner. And into the night she disappeared. Never to return again. The years following were nothing much to Amis. He did jobs. Learned to fend for himself. Befriend and watch after the murder of crows that always followed. Nothing much. Eventually he was given the chance to learn sword fighting and to become a knight at 16. It was Jacques de Molay who offered it to him. The head of the templar knights. Amis said yes without a second thought. He knew this was always what he wanted. The training was hard but on his birthday in 1306 he became an official knight.  Helping the good citizens of Paris and spreading christianity around. Life was great. Until Friday, October 13th, 1307. He was arrested with other French templars. What he would come to learn was that King Philip IV was behind this. Amis was tortured until he and other knights confessed to false things. For 7 more years Amis was behind bars as his fellow knights were burnt alive. During those 7 years he thought of his former life. Imaging being in the crusades with Amiles instead of a cell. He would later confess the truth to one of his captors. He asked what happened to his family only to find out they died a week after he ran. His father got too cruel with the peasants and one burned the house down with the family inside. For 3 more years he would be stuck but talking with the captor until March 18th, 1314. The day when he and his master were put to death. He saw the crows for the last time. They did not make any noise. But watched Amis and Jacques being tied up on the wooden pole. The crows had normally circled the knights and waited till they were no longer alive to start eating. But now the crows were still and silent. They could only watch as Amis was being burnt alive. All Amis thought about before being burnt alive was how he could have changed life for the better. He disgraced his family, his mentor and his oath. With his final moments he sunk his head low in shame before being burnt to death.

But then Amis woke up in a new strange place. To the sounds of birds. Specifically crows.  Still in his crusader armor with his sword and shield. A few crows he raised were with him asleep in his head.  He was alive? Did God do this?  Confused, he wandered to this new place. For he was given a second chance and he wasn’t going to waste it. He came across a settlement and that was where his new journey began. 

Johann/Amis’s Information

Age: 28 (born 1285 died 1314) Height: 180.34 cm (5’11 in) nationality: French From what time period: 1000s - 1300  (crusades) 

Nephthys Info (Companion)

Crow type - Hooded crow Age - 10 Female Omnivore will eat insects, grains and any meat. known to snack on dead enemies. always sits on Amis' shoulder. 

[citrinie]

Yesss. Blackwall is everything. He’s honestly so well written. Hope you enjoy. I wanted to romance him with a Dalish elf too at some point. I know everyone loves him with Cadash, but his romance animations only work well for Lavellan and Trevelyan so I doubt I’ll ever give it a go. Anyways, please tell me all about your canon playthrough. All your major game decisions. Who you romanced etc.

totally agree with you on that! Blackwall's character is very nicely written which makes him unique to me 🥺 i feel like we have so many sad grey wardens, but it will never be enough lol so far i have only played as lavellan and trevelyan. now in my head the inquisitor is an elf bc i have mostly only played as female lavellan 🧝‍♀️

you asked nonnie, so under the cut is just a “small essay” of my canon playthrough 😅 i could talk abt DA for infinity and never get tired of it, so i did get a little carried away but here you go!

my inquisitor:

my canon playthrough for DAI is a female dalish mage inquisitor. her name is Ithil. she is a raven-haired, pale-skinned elf with purple eyes. she has a very intimidating aura to her and is very standoffish. i found it very fitting for her to have the dark voice option even though her frame is tall and skinny hehe. most recent pic of Ithil, where im doing a rogue playthrough to justify siding with the templars 😃 i hate that decision so far lol

major DAI decisions:

for the major decisions im starting chronologically. i obviously sided with the mages bc Ithil is canonically a mage and i just love mages lol

then its the choice of who to leave in the Fade. this was for me the most gut-wrenching decision bc it stood between Alistair and Hawke 😭 like how could bioware do me like that? i spent a good solid 30 minutes contemplating what to do and ultimately ending up leaving Hawke in the Fade. reasons being that i could never leave Alistair and him being the first DA character i fell in love with, would just be heartbreaking. also someone needed to lead the grey wardens, so why not him? i felt so very sad for Varric. poor Fenris, who i romanced Hawke with, he probably hates Ithil and lashed out at anything close to him 😫 but i try to remember what Flemeth said to Hawke that she may one day find herself facing the abyss and “do not hesitate to leap”, and considering the quest name is Here Lies the Abyss 🥲

when it comes to the fate of the grey wardens, i saved them bc i felt that there were more benefits to being allied with them rather than getting rid of them. grey wardens were a huge part of the first game considering you played as one. 

as for who i had be the ruler of Orlais, i kept Celene in power. she and Briala also got back together. Gaspard was never an option to me so that was yet another easy big decision. i realize now how much female power i have in my DA canon playthrough lol

choosing who would be the next divine was a hard decision. there were pros and cons for both Cassandra and Leliana. i know Vivianne is an option too but she just hates my inquisitor lol. i ended up choosing Leliana tho bc of her standing with the mages and her view of progressive change in Thedas. she also has a huge interest in politics and is well-informed abt almost everything bc of her spies. i definitely think that choosing Leliana will cause chaos bc of all the changes, but im here for it hehe

those are all the major DAI decisions i can think of are important, but lmk if you want to know anything else ;)

romance & companions:

as for romance options, i had Ithil romance Cullen bc i have loved Curly since DAO hehe in my canon DA Cullen had relations with my warden who is a female human mage named Solona. i always think of them when you ask Cullen if he has anyone, and he says something like “not in Kirkwall”. which to me insinuates that he had someone when he was in Ferelden, before going to Kirkwall, but nothing serious as Solona got with Alistair another blond-haired dude with puppy-dog energy lol i love Cullen’s character a lot tho bc you get to see the various things he has gone through in all three games. so all the pain and suffering he is going through in DAI makes a lot of sense, bc of all the trauma he has experienced and the withdrawals he has from lyrium as he essentially is a drug addict. so i love the ending where Ithil and Cullen gets a dog, gets married, the inquisition is disbanded, they move to some place quiet and still help others in their own ways like the good ppl they are ❤️

lastly talking abt Ithil’s chemistry with the gang. the ppl she felt close to were Iron Bull, Solas, Cassandra and Dorian. she loves hanging out with the Bull and the chargers, drinking at the tavern and listening to various stories from everybody. Solas and Ithil have a platonic connection probably bc of their elven background, but also i feel like she learnt a lot from him abt spirits and the Fade. so we are feeling a little bit betrayed and bitter by the fact that Solas was behind everything that happend 😅 all the help for ppl in solavellan hell.  Cassandra and Ithil butt heads quite a bit, but playing Ithil as a rogue made me think that they would be really good sparing friends. and i think Ithil gets Cassandra out of her comfort zone in a good way :) as for her friendship with Dorian, they are both necromancer mages and i see them exchanging a lot of knowledge. i also think Dorian loves pimping Ithil up with dresses and jewellery, for her to show Cullen ;) she is also very close to Josephine who teaches her a lot abt diplomacy, as Ithil do not always have the best social antennas and can be quite blunt in situations where she should not be lol

the only romance options i have finished a whole playthrough of is with Bull and Cullen. so doing a Blackwall romance now, then i want to do a Solas romance just to have done it lol. loved both Bull and Cullen’s romances, they are quite different to each other but that is what i loved abt them hehe. Bull’s romance was so funny and kinky ;) Cullen’s romance was like cute and vanilla with a sprinkle of trauma ✨ in the end Cullen is the canon romance option in my little DA world 😊

[merrilldidnothingwrong]

Funny enough, I do plan on not having Cullen be the Inquisition's commander, I hate the Templars too. Though I am struggling to think of who I'd want as his replacement. I don't want to go with Samson, since that's been done before. My first option would be an Origins Warden, but which one? Aeducan, since she had commanded forces prior to her becoming a Warden, and is Warden-Commander of the Ferelden Wardens. Her experience with the Wardens would mean she knows how to work with a 'mismatched' group of soldiers, especially against an opponent that outmatches them. Cousland is off the table since she's the Queen. So are Tabris, Mahariel, and Brosca, since they're currently on the hunt for a Blight cure. And Amell is with Morrigan, and won't show up until Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts. So that would leave Surana. I do want Surana to be there when the Temple explodes, since she's with Leliana. While she isn't Warden-Commander, she is Constable of the Grey (Second-in-command). So she would have to have experience and a good track record with leadership to have attained the position, especially if Aeducan is the one who appointed her, who I view as having a pretty high standard. Both of them would work since Corypheus does use the Blight and Darkspawn, making Warden involvement very plausible. While the idea of Hawke being commander is appealing, I feel the twins would turn the offer down. Garrett stating he never had led a group before, and Marian stating she only handled a small rag-tag group from time to time. Though perhaps they stick around as allies instead of just heading to Weisshaupt after their excursion into the Fade. I might have Cullen be part of the Templars in Val Royeaux (Also, I hate that the Templar recruitment mission is called "Champions of the Just" Like WHAT?!!) though I'm not sure what to do with them. Though, let's just say if Surana meets him again, Cullen is getting an armored boot to the groin and a gauntleted slap to face.

well his replacement doesn't have to be an old character? i know we know leliana for the spy but they created josie (one of the best characters of the game, or DA in general) so you could create one, and if you want a connection, make it someones friend or relative? like i get templars are basically an army and have the training, but... ew, templars

i do like the idea of hawke as commander, but after all theyve already been through......... they need a break!

COMPLETELY agreed about Surana, i feel like leliana would scheme (rightfully so) with maybe................. sera, for him to have a bad time every time he was a creep and asked invasive questions or just leered in her direction.

im always mad theres not an option in game to get rid of him, or ask casandra, wtf?? you know his crimes?? whats he doing here?? he should be judged!! he needs to be judged!!

well, thats my two cents!

[nessacousland]

You just had to make me hooked on a new rare pair...

Your series is incredible and now I'm planning an AU where Finn and Ariane are the ones recruited by Duncan, among one or two others.

What other characters do you think are underrated? I'm going for the Wardens being a ragtag group of outcasts and semi-sane people.

Sorry... You kinda got me back into Dragon Age after six years.

Ahhhh, I'm so happy that I've been successful in spreading my Ariane/Finn rarepair agenda! 😊 Your AU idea sounds really cool, I'd love to read it someday. <3

More underrated DAO characters, now that's an interesting question. I don’t think there are any I’m as invested in as Ariane and Finn. And most of these won’t fit your criteria I fear, but for simplicity's sake I'll just list anyone that comes to mind right now:

I always thought Aneirin, Wynne's former apprentice, is really interesting as a character. A hell of a life that he's had, from the Alienage to the Circle to the Dalish and never quite fitting in anywhere, as fond as he is of his rescuers.

There's hardly any characterization there, but I really liked the Ash Warriors as a whole and it's sad they never popped up again in DA.

I'm really fond of Slim Couldry, he's half elven, he's a good-hearted fence trying to get back at the corrupt nobility, a whole character, but a majority of Wardens won't ever see him in their games :/

In a tragic way, I find Keili very interesting. She's an apprentice at the Circle who has been so thoroughly religiously brainwashed that she's filled with self-loathing and fervently prays to be rid of her "curse", even going as far as saying that the templars should kill them all for being mages. As unrealistic as it is considering what we know about the Circle, I like to imagine a journey of healing and unlearning that toxic mindset is possible. :(

Lily. I was more or less indifferent to her during the mage origin, but her World of Thedas excerpt really made me feel for her and wish that her story continued.

Piggybacking off of that, Jowan himself, of course. Though I guess he’s popular enough and as such not underrated.

Shianni by virtue of me loving her so much that any adoration she receives is still underrating her. 

Also, Soris. I think his relationship with the Tabris warden is compelling and I found it interesting that he ends up with a human wife in one of the epilogues (how did that come about?)

I feel like Gorim could have been more than the guy who yells ‘dwarven crafts’ on repeat, considering everything that went down in the Aeducan origin

It’s been a million years since I played the DLC, but I remember liking Sketch a lot (and Tug, RIP)

Velanna is massively underrated imo, but she has her role in Awakening, so...

Yeah, I’m definitely forgetting people and this list is likely not very helpful to you, but that’s all I can think of right now. Sorry :o

And please don’t apologize for reaching out, I’m always happy to hear from others. Tbh, DA has never not been on my mind in some way over the last eleven years, but I probably wouldn’t have gone as hard and made this blog without getting invested in Ariane/Finn last year. So I totally get it. :)

[ammocharis]

Dragon Age OC as a companion

I saw the “OC as a companion” trend started by @little-lightning-lavellan and I really wanted to hop on with my Avvar girl, Vatna, who is normally the Inquisitor and the protagonist of my fic, Watch the Skies. So here it goes! (Heads up - it got pretty long!)

~~

Vatna (born 9:23 Dragon) is an Avvar mage and a potential companion in Dragon Age: Inquisition.

Title: Sky Watcher’s apprentice

Race: Human

Gender: Female

Class: Mage

Affiliation: Avvar, Inquisition (conditional)

Family: Einar (father), Selke (mother), Hirka (sister)

Background

Vatna Einarsdotten Selkesdotten was born in an Avvar settlement called Two Falcon Hold, where she lived until adulthood. Two Falcon Hold is located in the highest part of the Frostback Mountains. It is largely isolated from the outside world; the news arrives through dwarven merchants and Avvar pathfinders, which resulted in Vatna not having any first-hand experience of the Lowlands.

As a seven year old child, Vatna manifested magical ability, and thus she was linked to a spirit, as is customary among the Avvar. The spirit began teaching Vatna how to control her gift. She received lessons in healing, casting barriers, glyph-making, and other types of skills, but she specialized in offensive magic. She displayed an aptitude for elemental magic, particularly the spells associated with cold.

Several years later, with the basic part of her training complete, Vatna peacefully separated from her spirit teacher. Proving herself as a talented mage, she was chosen to become the next Sky Watcher in her hold, and so she continued studying diligently under the augur’s tutelage.

Vatna also underwent a warrior’s training, combining the skillset of a mage with that of a melee fighter. Her weapon of choice is an axe instead of a staff, though she is proficient at using either. After her appointment as the Sky Watcher’s apprentice, Vatna commissioned a battle axe with a lyrium core from the dwarves of Orzammar.

In 9:41 Dragon, a few weeks before the Conclave, Vatna ventured outside of her hold, travelling through the Lowlands for the first time in her life. Her only companion was a falcon called Himnar.

Involvement

Dragon Age: Inquisition

Once the Inquisitor returns from the Hinterlands, a new portion of the Haven map opens up. Vatna can be found on a mountain range located south-east of the Temple of Sacred Ashes. She is fighting demons that are pouring from a large rift. Once the Herald closes the rift, Vatna voices her astonishment at their ability to mend the Veil. In the following conversation, the Avvar mage explains that she was on the way to Haven when the Breach opened. She claims that she’s been trying to fix the situation on her own, with little success. She is accompanied by a peregrine falcon that appears to be exceptionally well-trained. The Herald can ask some additional questions about her background and learn that she’s a Sky Watcher’s apprentice. Vatna says that she wishes to save the Lady of the Skies and help the gods. At the end of this conversation, the Herald can recruit Vatna into the Inquisition right away, tell her that they might consider it (after which she will relocate to the village of Haven), or force her to leave.

Note: Vatna must be recruited before “In Your Heart Shall Burn”. After the fall of Haven, she is no longer available.

If the player chooses to recruit Vatna, she starts following them on their travels. In Haven, she stays by the lake, next to the training grounds of the Inquisition’s soldiers. In Skyhold, she dwells on the battlements by the Herald’s Rest, overlooking the valley below. The peregrine falcon is always seen nearby. Conversations with Vatna focus on magic, spirits, the Frostback Mountains, and the Avvar lore.

After the Herald seals the Breach, Vatna expresses her gratitude about them repairing the Veil (to which she refers as “the Lady’s Veil”). She says that she intends to stay until the one who opened it is defeated. In the following battle of Haven, she can be seen using her ice magic to kill or stagger the attacking forces. On the way to Skyhold, Vatna and her falcon help the Herald scout the path ahead, though she warns that she had heard awful tales about the fortress and the powers that permeate it.

Some time after the Inquisition reaches Skyhold, Vatna might ask for the Inquisitor’s assistance in helping the Avvar. As it turns out, she received the news from Two Falcon Hold that her people, as well as several neighbouring tribes, have been troubled by either the Venatori or the Red Templars. The Inquisitor can complete a war table mission that informs them about further evidence of Corypheus’ forces attempting to establish some kind of a covert operation in the Frostback Mountains, far from the eyes of sovereign nations like Ferelden and Orlais.

If the Inquisitor decides to investigate the lead, they and Vatna travel to the central part of the Frostback Mountains. At their destination, they are told that some Avvar have been injured or killed in skirmishes with Corypheus’ forces, and more people are missing without a trace, Vatna’s younger sister among them. Following the points of evidence to the source reveals that a member of the Venatori has been conducting research on the effect of high altitudes on blood magic potency (as hematocrit increases in an environment with lower oxygen supply). Once all the enemies are defeated, and the kidnapped Avvar are rescued, the Inquisitor may return to Two Falcon Hold with Vatna and speak with the members of the hold to learn more about their situation, and also about their relations with Vatna.

At the end of the mission, if Vatna’s approval is high enough, she approaches the Inquisitor and invites them to climb with her to a nearby mountain peak, where she confesses that she hadn’t shared full truth about herself, but now that the Inquisitor proven trustworthy, she wants them to know something - the falcon she travels with, Himnar, is actually a host to one of the spirits who have lived with her hold for many generations. Vatna and the spirit share a magical bond that allows them to communicate mentally. Moreover, Vatna is a Dreamer, and during her nightly visits in the “Land of Dreams”, she tries to decipher the omens sent by the gods. The reason she travelled into the Lowlands was that she had foreseen a possible catastrophe, but she didn’t know what exactly would happen. As a result, she arrived too late to do anything. At the end of the conversation, Vatna reiterates her wish to protect her people and spirits from dangers, known and unknown.

Afterwards, the Inquisitor and Vatna return to Skyhold. A contingent of the Inquisition’s soldiers is stationed in the Frostback Mountains to deal with the enemies that might still be lurking there.

Once Corypheus is defeated, Vatna expresses her thanks to the Inquisitor for using their power to thwart the Magister’s plans. She says that she intends to help with the remaining tasks, such as closing the rifts and getting rid of Corypheus’ forces thoroughly, but as soon as that’s finished, she has to return to her hold and take on the duties of a Sky Watcher, since her mentor is growing too old to handle everything himself. She invites the Inquisitor to visit her hold sometime in the future and stay as long as they wish.

Trespasser

If the Inquisitor is friends with Vatna:

Two years after Corypheus’ defeat, Vatna unexpectedly arrives in the Winter Palace - as always, with a falcon at her side. The Inquisitor may express their confusion at her visit, to which Vatna replies that the gods urged her to go, even if it meant leaving her people again. She adds that “there’s a disturbance in the Land of Dreams, and the Lady’s Veil is still weak at the seams.” She voices a profound concern about the state of the Inquisitor's Anchor.

While travelling through the Crossroads, she notes that she’s aware the sky is different, though she “could never see it with her own eyes”. If the Inquisitor is an elf, she asks them if they would want to live in a place like that. If the Inquisitor is not an elf, Vatna offers to cast a spell that could alleviate the tiredness that affects all non-elven races in the Crossroads.

If Cole is in the party, he and Vatna engage in a cryptic conversation about dreams.

As the Anchor becomes more volatile, Vatna attempts to stabilize it, but she’s unsuccessful.

In the end, Vatna is shown to have returned to her hold, but it’s hinted that she might be doing something in the Fade to lessen the turmoil among its denizens.

If the Inquisitor is not friends with Vatna:

A letter addressed to the Inquisitor arrives from the Frostback Mountains, signed by Sky Watcher Vatna of Two Falcon Hold. The Avvar mage writes that she and the Inquisitor may not have agreed much, but it’s not going to matter if the world is set on fire. She gives a warning about “travelling the lonely path”. The package that was delivered alongside the letter contains a clear crystal wrapped in a wolf pelt, with a description claiming that the crystal “lessens the headache of watching the other sky through the eyes that weren’t meant to gaze upon it”.

Quests

Made in Mountains (recruitment)

Times of Trouble (war table)

Fraught with Fury (personal)

Strong from Struggle (personal - very high approval)

Spoken Soft (romance)

Approval

Vatna approves of helping spirits and learning about various sources of magic. She appreciates when the Inquisitor regards her beliefs with respect. She favors a direct approach to solving problems.

If a quest involves spirits, the changes in Vatna’s approval occur even if she’s not in the active party.

Approval Gained

Main quests:

Allying with the rebel mages at the end of “In Hushed Whispers” - Approves.

Saying “Corypheus must be stopped” when accepting the title of Inquisitor - Greatly Approves.

Killing Florianne de Chalons during “Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts” - Approves.

Letting Celene execute Gaspard at the end of “Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts” - Approves.

Allowing the Grey Wardens to join the Inquisition at the end of “Here Lies the Abyss” - Slightly Approves.

Siding with Abelas at the Temple of Mythal during “What Pride Had Wrought” - Approves.

Drinking from the Well of Sorrows - Approves.

Allowing Morrigan to drink from the Well of Sorrows - Slightly Approves.

Side quests:

Discovering the landmarks associated with “Saga of Tyrdda Bright-Axe, Avvar-Mother” in the Hinterlands - Slightly Approves at each one.

Equipping her with Tyrdda’s Staff - Greatly Approves (this initiates a special cutscene).

Completing “Ballad of Lord Woolsley” in the Hinterlands by returning the ram to One Eyed Jim - Slightly Approves.

Completing “Trouble with Wolves” in the Hinterlands - Approves.

Destroying the summoning stones in Solas’ personal quest “All New, Faded for Her” - Greatly Approves.

Defeating Hand of Korth during “Lost Souls” in Fallow Mire - Greatly Approves.

Recruiting Amund into the Inquisition - Approves.

Completing “Burdens of Command” in Crestwood by fulfilling the request of the Spirit of Command - Approves.

Investigating Chateau d'Onterre in the Emerald Graves and killing the Arcane Horror that lurks there - Approves.

Completing “Call Me Imshael” in Emprise du Lion by killing Imshael - Approves.

Making Erimond tranquil in his judgement - Approves.

Completing “Fears of the Dreamers” in the Fade section of “Here Lies the Abyss” - Approves.

Jaws of Hakkon DLC:

Killing Hakkon’s dragon host - Greatly Approves.

Defeating Gurd Harofsen - Greatly Approves.

Rescuing Storvacker - Greatly Approves.

Accepting Runa's offer to be included in her prayer at the end of "Up and Away" - Approves.

Completing "The Loss of a Friend" by killing Grandin - Approves.

Telling Sigrid to talk to the augur at the end of “In Exile” - Greatly Approves.

Recruiting Sigrid into the Inquisition at the end of "In Exile" - Approves.

Speaking to Telana’s spirit: “You can rest now.” - Approves.

Completing “Hakkon’s Trials” - Slightly Approves.

Saying “Renewal?” when asked by the augur about the purpose of the rituals during “It Remains to be Seen”, showing that you understood it - Approves.

Giving the offering to the Master of the Hunt at the end of “A Father’s Name” - Approves.

Giving the offering to Finn at the end of “A Father’s Name” - Slightly Approves.

Saying “I am honored.” when accepting the legend-mark - Approves.

Approval Lost

Main quests:

Allying with the Templars at the end of “Champions of the Just” - Disapproves.

Saying “I’ll do it for my own power” when accepting the title of Inquisitor - Greatly Disapproves.

Arresting Florianne de Chalons during “Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts” instead of killing her - Slightly Disapproves.

Making Gaspard the sole ruler of Orlais - Greatly Disapproves.

Banishing the Grey Wardens at the end of “Here Lies the Abyss” - Disapproves.

Refusing to side with Abelas at the Temple of Mythal during “What Pride Had Wrought” - Disapproves.

Suggesting that the Well of Sorrows should be destroyed during “What Pride Had Wrought” - Disapproves.

Side quests:

Attacking Lord Woolsley during “Ballad of Lord Woolsley”, which causes him to transform into a Rage Demon - Greatly Disapproves.

Killing the Pride Demon in “All New, Faded for Her” without attempting to destroy the summoning stones - Greatly Disapproves.

Accepting any of Imshael’s offers in “Call me Imshael” - Greatly Disapproves.

Refusing to complete the request of the Spirit of Command during “Burdens of Command” in Crestwood - Disapproves.

Jaws of Hakkon DLC:

Refusing Runa's offer to be included in her prayer at the end of "Up and Away" - Disapproves.

Completing "The Loss of a Friend" by allowing Grandin to live - Greatly Disapproves.

Speaking to Telana’s spirit - “Leave, or be destroyed.” - Disapproves (If Cole or Solas are in the party, there’s an additional approval loss.)

Saying “I didn’t understand it.” or “Just tell me.” when asked by the augur about the purpose of the rituals during “It Remains to be Seen” - Disapproves.

If the player has killed any benevolent spirit, or Cole was expelled from the Inquisition, a special cutscene triggers upon the next return to Skyhold, in which Vatna threatens to leave the organization. She can be convinced to stay if her personal quest was initiated, or cast out right there and then.

If Vatna’s approval gets critically low, a cutscene will be initiated on the Skyhold battlements, where Vatna confronts the Inquisitor about their choices. She voices her regret about ever joining the Inquisition, saying that she would have fared better if she was on her own. The player can try to change her mind or tell her to leave, either way, the final result stays the same, with Vatna storming out of Skyhold, cursing the Inquisitor’s name.

Romance

Vatna is a potential love interest for male Inquisitors only.

The romance can be initiated after winning Vatna’s approval and completing her personal questline, including the approval-dependent conversation at the end of “Strong from Struggle”. Beforehand, there are several flirtatious dialogue options that can be chosen during conversations with Vatna, but she always swiftly changes the topic to something else, both in the case of male and female Inquisitors. Picking the flirtatious options doesn’t garner either approval or disapproval from Vatna, aside from a flirt line that can occur after rescuing the Avvar during “Fraught with Fury”, which results in “Disapproves” and a harsher reply.

Should the Inquisitor continue flirting with Vatna after her personal quest, she will eventually approach them in their quarters and express her intention to speak about the nature of their relationship. She and the Inquisitor go on a walk in the mountains surrounding Skyhold.

If the Inquisitor is female, Vatna gently tells her that she is not romantically interested in women, but she hopes to remain friends. She wishes the female Inquisitor good luck in her future pursuits. The Inquisitor may voice their dissatisfaction, to which Vatna will take offence, saying that she never hinted she was interested in the Inquisitor. Otherwise, they part on friendly terms.

If the Inquisitor is male, Vatna informs him that she indeed feels a connection between them, something more than friendship, but that she fears it might not be enough for him. Hesitating, she explains that she doesn’t experience sexual attraction, not towards the Inquisitor, nor anyone else she ever met in her life. In the past, she was romantically attracted to a man, someone she knew very well and cared for dearly, but in the end, the relationship didn’t work out, and she felt it was her fault. After sharing her point of view, Vatna asks the Inquisitor about their thoughts, saying she prefers to end it there and then if he finds such a situation an insurmountable obstacle.

At this point, the Inquisitor may disengage from the conversation, which ends the romance path, and depending on the dialogue option chosen, results in no approval change (and they part on friendly terms) or “Greatly Disapproves” from Vatna (if she was told she is “cold-hearted”).

However, if the Inquisitor decides to pursue the relationship, he and Vatna return to Skyhold together.

The party banter and ambient comments suggest that Vatna and the Inquisitor spend a lot of time together, which causes many rumours, especially among the Orlesian nobility visiting Skyhold. The companions may remark about the relationship and try to elicit a response from either Vatna or the Inquisitor, but Vatna always cuts them off.

One night, Vatna suddenly wakes up the Inquisitor, asking him if he remembers anything unusual from his recent dreams. If a mage, the Inquisitor may describe his dreams in more detail, if a non-mage, he may say that he vaguely recalls some dream (there are several options to choose from, including humorous options), either way, Vatna replies this is not what she meant. She explains that suspects a spirit is observing both her and the Inquisitor, but the being always hides away when she or her falcon try to approach it. She wishes to learn what the spirit wants and ask the Inquisitor for aid. If the Inquisitor agrees to her request, Vatna performs a ritual to send their minds into the Fade. Vatna and the Inquisitor investigate the magical landscape together, and eventually they manage to track down the spirit, which turns out to be a young Spirit of Love that became fascinated with the various types of relationships that formed in Skyhold and took particular interest in the bond between Vatna and the Inquisitor. Vatna encourages the spirit to cultivate its interest in love, as its kind is small in numbers.

After the final battle with Corypheus, Vatna shares a hug with the Inquisitor. Once the Inquisitor leaves the feast, she follows him upstairs, and they watch the sunrise together.

In Trespasser, Vatna reunites with the Inquisitor. Unlike in the non-romanced scenario, she is fully expected to arrive in the Winter Palace, and she exchanges warm greetings with the Inquisitor. As the Anchor grows more volatile, she actually succeeds in calming it, though only temporarily. Before the Inquisitor steps through the eluvian to meet Solas, Vatna makes him swear an oath that he will come back alive.

The epilogue shows that Vatna and the Inquisitor live in the Frostback Mountains.

Quotes

“The messengers of the Lady of the Skies led me here.”

“My mentor said that Fate is not written in stone.”

(To Cole) “You alone should choose which path you’ll follow.”

Trivia

All titles of quests that involve Vatna are taken from the Saga of Tyrdda Bright-Axe, Avvar-Mother.

In the promotional materials. Vatna is referred to as “The Forecaster”.

She is accompanied by a peregrine falcon and has a couple of its feathers attached to her clothes.

Vatna is classified as a mage, but she can be equipped both with staffs and melee weapons. Her skills are similar to that of Amund from Dragon Age: Inquisition Multiplayer.

Vatna acts friendly towards Cole, Solas, and Varric from the beginning. Over the consecutive banters, she warms up towards Cassandra, Iron Bull, and Blackwall.

In her location-specific remarks, she often comments on the weather and the behaviour of local birds.

If a quest involves spirits, the changes in Vatna’s approval occur even if she’s not in the active party, similar to how Cole’s approval can change in a number of quests without him being present.

She is the only companion that doesn’t have an approval change in Trespasser when the Inquisitor declares their intent about either saving or hunting down Solas.

[reflectionsofacreator]

Time for William’s conversations -- and he has five of them. Wordy motherfucker. As per usual, you can go here to listen to the voice inflections, though not many of them stood out to me for this set of convos. 

Will: Son?  Will: I ... I owe you an apology. I shouldn’t have lashed out like that. You have to understand I’ve never been very good at this. Nevermind that we live rather... extraordinary lives.  Desmond: Yeah... I kinda liked my ordinary one.  Will: You can’t escape who you are, Desmond.  Desmond: So I’ve noticed.  Will: Look... It’s silly for us to go back and forth like this. I admit, I did a shitty job raising you. I apologize. I’m sorry. But it’s important you understand that it didn’t come from a bad place. You’re my son. I love you. I guess I was so busy trying to make sure nothing bad happened, I didn’t... consider the consequences.  Will: Truce? 

Notice how Desmond doesn’t say a word to all of this. No agreement to a truce, no real word for Will’s justifications other than a few noncommittal snarks. Sighs. As much as Will says he loves Desmond, that doesn’t change the fact that Dez faced abuse at his hands. The way that Will talks just grates at me, trying to frame it as a “let’s make up and move on”, not really with any sort of actual like, real acknowledgement of it, and the way that William phrases brooks no room for argument. 

Onto the next convo. 

Desmond: I can’t believe it’s taken me so long to ask, but - how’s mom. She’s not...  Will: No, no. Your mother’s fine. We decided it was safer if we split up for this job.  Desmond: Always assuming the worst.  Will: Hmph. For good reason.  Desmond: Can I at least say hi to her?  Will: I’m sorry... It’s too risky. Maybe when we’re done...  Desmond: ... Right. When we’re done. 

Please, sir, a crumb of a canon name for Desmond’s mother, last heir to Altair’s bloodline? Please, sir, a crumb of acknowledging that mothers are important figures too to a person’s life, not just fathers? 

God who am I kidding, ac3 is just “daddy issues: the game” isn’t it, with both Desmond’s and Ratonhnhake:ton’s mothers thrown under the bus for the sake of father-oriented narratives. Sigh. It’s worth noting that Dez actually sounds pretty resigned on that last line, like he doesn’t quite believe it. Ha ha. Yeah. 

Desmond: Have... Have we ever tried to make peace with the Templars?  Will: Throughout our history there have been moments... Several, in fact. But... It’s impossible. There are... existential differences. Insurmountable. If there were to be unity, it wouldn’t be a truce so much as a submission.  Desmond: But knowing what’s about to happen... Wouldn’t it make sense to try and talk to Vidic? Come to an arrangement? Even if it’s only temporary?  Will: We’d all be so busy watching our backs, nothing would get accomplished. [slight chuckle] Imagine that. We’re more productive at war...  Desmond: Well have we ever tried... sending in someone? Doing to them what they did to us with Lucy? Or Cross?  Will: We have. And it’s never worked. We’ve sent people who were either too weak, and found themselves turned - or too strong, and were unable to carry out the charade.  Desmond: I just feel like we all want the same thing.  Will: We use the same words, but that’s all they are... words. In the end it all comes down to freedom. We seek it. They detest it. And so there’s never an end to the fight. Not until one side is completely gone.  Desmond: Is that even possible?  Will: Probably not. Our two groups have existed in one form or another since .. well... forever. But things can be better than they are. And that’s something. 

You know, when the person that was inhumanely experimented on advocates for peace with the people that did so, I’m a little more inclined to think he’s got a point than the Mentor of the Brotherhood who just outright refuses.  Honestly I think there’s something to be said for the fact that Desmond is largely an outsider looking in, and he’s able to see that this war is getting them nowhere, especially in the face of everything else. He’s spent his last 9 years living as a civilian, trying his best to get rid of the ideologies of the Assassins, and that leads him to having a lot of interesting perspectives. 

Honestly, it’s probably what the Brotherhood needs. They’ve spent so long trying to get the upperhand on Abstergo, or a lot of other things, and they lose sight of what’s important, I think. Like, yeah, you can say that Desmond is being naive, sure, but I just -- it’s like how Ratonhnhake:ton pushed back against Sam for saying he’ll grow out of his own naivety. Like, the game isn’t exactly being subtle with the parallels between Desmond and Ratonhnhake:ton, but man if it doesn’t make me worried. 

I know, ultimately, that the modern day plot kinda goes to nowhere (save for maybe the Origins onward), and that there’s not much in the way of change that happens. Also, I know that Ratonhnhake:ton’s efforts for his own people are futile in the long run, resulting in a very similar feeling futileness that these two characters have to grapple with. But like, that’s the rub, isn’t it -- ac3 is more tragedy than anything else, with inevitable failures that can’t be circumvented. 

It interests me that Desmond lumps Lucy in with Cross though. Like as not he doesn’t exactly know the whole story there, but still. Makes me think. 

Desmond: Did you look for me, dad? When I was gone.  Will: Every day.  Desmond: Come on...  Will: I mean it. Every night I’d look. Searching for you name - or variations of it - hoping you’d slip up. Abstergo only found you first because they had better access. A few more days and it would have been me.  Desmond: Well, I’m here now.  Will: And I’m glad. 

Desmond sounds resigned on that last line, damn. Tbh, the vibe I got from this one is that Dez couldn’t really believe that his father actually cared about him. (I mean, I can’t either, but that’s neither here nor there) I do vaguely wonder how long it took for the frantic searching to become just an ingrained habit, how long it took before William would just click through results and never actually hope to find anything, resigned to never knowing the fate of his son. 

Dammit I think I just made myself feel for the bastard. [beats with stick] back! Back I say! 

Desmond: Do you think Lucy regretted what she was doing?  Will: I used to think I knew her well, but clearly that wasn’t the case. So I really can’t give you an honest answer.  Desmond: She seemed so sincere, though. Like she really wanted to make a difference.  Will: Yes, well when I first met him, I thought the same thing about Cross.  Desmond: It just keeps happening over and over again.  Will: What does?  Desmond: Everything...  Will: Don’t get weird on me, Desmond.  Desmond: No. It’s fine. I’m fine. Don’t worry.  Will: Alright, then. You should think about getting back in the Animus... We’ve got to find that key. 

Catch me worrying anyways :D Like, really worrying :D

Groans I just. there’s so many worrying signs in these conversations, and I don’t like where it’s going!! at all!! 

If you liked this, or what I do, consider checking out the rest of my ac3 playthrough!  Or my other playthroughs in general! 

[sulky-valkyrie]

Happy Friday! I gotta get an enemies to lovers prompt in here: "you snatch a knife from your enemy’s grip and throws it at the ground, then you grab your enemy by the collar, and crash your lips against theirs. they’re surprised, but responds immediately" - for whoever you think fits best!

Happy Friday, Niri! This all hit me in the shower about two hours ago and it doesn't fit the prompt exactly, but I think it fits the spirit? Anyway, happy DADWC and I hope you enjoy a really rarepair weirdness! 💜💜💜 for @dadrunkwriting

Blasted forest.  Blasted werewolves.  Blasted… talking bloody trees!  Carver stumped his way around the edge of the camp, wishing he hadn’t drawn the straw to take the middle watch.  Leave this shit to the elf, or one of the damned dwarves!  They can see in pitch black, and I’m just tripping over my c - feet.  Void take it, even Morrigan could do a better job if she turned into a bird or a cat or something.

He paused and looked back at the rest of the group sleeping around the fire.  The campsite they’d picked out was too small for tents, so everyone was in bedrolls tonight.  Brosca was in theirs. Leliana was in theirs too.  More power to them, he thought spitefully.  Zev was in his.  Carver’s was, of course, empty, and Oghren was snoring leaning against a tree.  But Alistair, Sten and Morrigan were missing.  Had they left before he got up?  If so, why hadn’t Wynne mentioned it?

And if they’d left after Carver was on watch, why didn’t they say let him know?  Also, how had he missed it?

Furthermore, why would the three of them go anywhere together?  Sten distrusted women and mages, Morrigan hated Alistair personally, and Alistair just wanted them to leave him and each other alone.

Without the jingle of his mail or the thud of his boots, the night was far more quiet than it had any right to be - further proof that something about the Brecilian Forest was unnatural.  As he frowned and tried to figure out what to do, a faint metallic noise drifted from beyond the trees.

Like a weapon sliding on a shield.  

Before he knew it, he was leaving the camp and following what could only be the sound of fighting.

Maker, they really decided to just all three try to kill each other, didn’t they?  What the void for?  Why here, why now?  As he crept through the forest, he tried to remember if anything had been off during the evening meal.  Morrigan had been asking Sten questions that left them both looking flustered and annoyed, but that wasn’t really new. One of them was always pissing off someone, either out of deliberate spite (Morrigan) or stubborn obstinance (Sten).  But what did that have to do with Alistair?

A river was somewhere to his left, wide enough that the tree cover let the moonlight through.  The reflection made everything look and feel like the Fade, and reminded him of the times Bethany had accidentally dragged him into her own dreams.  He’d asked Morrigan about that one night, and she’d rolled her eyes and scoffed that he’d heard too many sermons on the evils of apostasy.

A few nights later, when he was on first watch, she’d asked him why he wanted to know, and listened to him with an intensity in those captivating yellow eyes that bordered on feverish.  In a roundabout fashion, Carver found her company the easiest of everyone, except Brosca.  She was an apostate, and knew all about the dangers of Templars, even if her mother had been a bit more… direct in getting rid of them than theirs ever had been.

She was still a bitch after that, of course.  Never gave him the time of day, or treated him with anything but contempt, but it was comforting in its own odd way.  She didn’t like him on his own merits, not for anything Garrett or Bethany had done or not done, and Maker, that was refreshing.. 

Focus.  Maker knew what Morrigan was up to now, or what Sten and Alistair might be doing to her.  He sped up, still moving toward the sound of metal, until something large and furry hit his back.  There was no time or space to pull out his sword, but he got his belt knife out as he felt forward and stabbed up behind him.  

The bear bellowed - Andraste’s flaming asshole, I’m wrestling a bear, I’m going to die - and swatted him to the ground as it fell on top of him, knife still stuck in its shoulder.  What’s the thing?  Play dead and they’ll get bored?  Or is that wolves?  Or mountain cats?  I’m so dead.

Carver grabbed at the knife and slashed at its throat, determined to at least make it pay for its next meal, and the damn thing batted it away as he leaned over him with a low threatening growl before everything felt sideways and watery, then Morrigan was on top of him, bleeding from shoulder and throat, and hands covered in dirt and moss where they dug into his shirt.

Is there any way tonight can get any weirder?  “What the -”

She kissed him.

Apparently so.

[kiatheinsomniac]

Unwoven Fate VIII

"Templar spy!"

She knew better than to escape his grip: it could only make her look guilty.

"Stop this, now!" Ezio exclaimed, looking around at all of the recruits. "You," pointing to Anna, "give that here and you-" now pointing to Emilio, "-get up." He took the broach from Anna and sat down at the table with the pigeon cage.

"(Y/n), come here and explain yourself." It took her a moment to realise that Emilio was off her now and she could actually lift herself from the floor, the shock of the attack just clearing up. She took a seat on the bench opposite him, watching him push her aunt's broach across the table before her. "Why do you have a templar pin?"

She had been told that the Templar's symbol was a red cross during her training but knowing that the Pope was one too had led her to assume it was a cross shaped like the church's one. She had not actually thought to check that she was right in believing this.

"I thought the Templar cross would be shaped like Christ's. My aunt gave me. . ." She felt all of her guts drop inside of her body, fingers beginning to tremble as realisation dawned on her, her lips quivering with a loss for words. Emilio was yelling at her now, she wasn't too sure what, his words less important than her current train of thought.

Suddenly so many things fit together. She had wanted answers but she didn't want this. She wanted a different answer. She ran in her head all of the other possible alternatives but none of them fit as well as what was staring her in the face. That feeling was back now: that pain of such hurt and betrayal that it felt physical, like her organs being torn from her chest.

That goddamn broach.

"-And she's going to get us all killed!" She finally heard Emilio who had slammed his fist down on the table next to her.

"Stop fucking yelling at me!" She finally snapped, whipping her head around to scream this at him, making everyone in the room jump. Her eyes were tearing up now and she realised that she had stood when she yelled.  She struggled to keep her breaths even as she glanced back down to that broach, snatching it up in her hands and storming towards the stairs again.

"(Y/n), get back here!" Ezio called but she ignored him. She had learned that she could make irrational decisions when she was this upset; she had got lucky in running away but this time she could make the wrong choice and she wanted to avoid that. She needed to be away from questioning glares and the yelling of the recruits like Emilio.

Said recruit then grabbed her arm to prevent her from leaving but she kicked his legs out from under him, sending him winded to the floor this time. She broke out in a run, feeling the tears pool in her eyes as she made her way to the north-western part of the city.

It was sundown by the time she finally stopped. She had been running and running for hours, feeling her feet blister and her muscles burn. She didn't want to stop running over Rome's roofs, didn't want to give herself a moment to think, to feel.

When she finally stopped, the last rays of sunlight were slipping down over the horizon. Rich pinks and purples drowned out the final burning orange rays of the sun, themselves being smothered by a black sky that was dotted with stars and patched with thin clouds.

She finally collapsed atop some ruins, looking down at those left in what remained of the Roman bathhouse. She panted for breath, feeling her sweat make her clothes stick to her uncomfortably. She brought her legs up to her chest, suppressing the urge to cry out, to scream so loud that her family in the Tuscan countryside could hear it. Instead, she broke out sobbing.

Her parents had been Assassins, this she knew for a while now. But suddenly so many things made sense. All of her uncle's meetings in his office full of red-crossed banners, the reason why her aunt ordered for (Y/n)'s parents to be killed, why her mother had lied about her past.

Her mother had been born to a family of Templars and fell in love with an Assassin. She had left her family and joined her lover in his battle to protect free will. She felt the need to lie to the rest of the Brotherhood about her past in order to protect herself from suspicion when her loyalties had truly shifted. Her aunt had ordered their murder because she was a Templar who had to get rid of the Assassins who would stand in her way because Emma knew everything about them. It was kill or be killed.

The war between Assassin and Templar had killed her family. Not class prejudice - not a dispute between sisters - war had killed her parents.

She smeared her tears from her cheeks and eyes, feeling some gathered at her chin. She no longer felt bad that earlier that day, she had thought of killing her aunt and uncle. She wanted them to die. Her life had been turned upside down by a war that was hidden from her until recently, she had been lied to for years and years and years.

She had to lay down, pulling her hood up to rest against the hard stone. She needed to rest, her body yearned for it after the last few physically and emotionally exhausting hours. She rested her head on her arms and passed out there on the stone.

⚜⚜⚜

She didn't know what the time was when she woke, only that it was dark still. She wasn't sure if it was the same day or if she had slept through all of that day's sunlight.

What she did know, however, was how stiff she felt upon waking up. She stretched her aching limbs and looked down at the ruins below her, making her way to the edge so that she could peer down. She carefully climbed down, her body crying in protest at the strain on her muscles. She decided that she would simply walk the streets to get back to the hideout, keeping her hood up and sticking to the shadows to avoid unwanted attention. She was so tired that she felt like she was sleepwalking, like someone else was controlling her movements as she simply focused on staying awake, on staying numb to what she had discovered in order to avoid another outburst.

She sighed when she finally reached the stairs of the hideout, making her way down to the main hall and planning on heading straight to her room. She wanted to sleep. She couldn't think if she was asleep, she couldn't be hurt by her reality anymore.

She had only taken a few steps into the room when a voice almost made her leap out of her skin:

"You're back." She looked back to the table to see Ezio. He had waited for her return.

"I'm sorry. . . I needed to get away. . ." She murmured as she kept her eyes down, not wanting to see his expression. He remained silent, a gesture for her to continue. "Everyone was yelling at me or interrogating me and I couldn't take it. I couldn't take the fact that-" She could feel the tears again, biting down on her cheek while thanking her beaked hood for hiding her face, "-that they're Templars. My parents were killed - I was kidnapped - by Templars. Everything finally made sense, just like I wanted it to but it's not what I wanted." She shook her head and felt her voice waver. "This war killed them and it stole my life from me, and I didn't even know it! With my family, I was always who I was told to be, never given room enough to become my own person. The moment I ran away that changed but I'm still figuring everything out and it's too much. I want things to slow down."  A sob escaped her lips.

"Come, sit down." He offered and she listened, sitting opposite him and resting her head in her arms, taking slow breaths to try and calm herself.

"I won't lie to you: you can't slow these things down and they're going to happen a lot quicker than you'd like. But you don't have to go through them alone. Don't take this all by yourself when you have people around you who are willing to help." He hesitantly reached a hand out to rest on her arm, caressing it with his thumb. He thought back to the day his father and brothers died, to the long night that followed, the stress of getting his mother and sister to safety, of not knowing what had happened.

"I don't know who to trust anymore!" She burst out, finally looking up at him. "They raised me! They treated me like a daughter! They lied to my face every second of every day! I saw them as parents!" He got up to sit down next to her, rubbing his hand up and down her back now.

"I still trust you." He spoke softly, trying to glance at her face but she turned her head away, "But you're going to have to prove yourself to everyone now that the other recruits have found that pin. I spoke with the Assassins and they want to see you complete some errands around the city for us." (Y/n) bit down on her cheek and sighed, leaning her face on her hand.

"Everything just keeps on falling apart." She murmured, sniffling now, "I thought that I finally had a place here and now that's being tested too." His hand stopped on her back, palm splayed out.

"You've shown more devotion to the brotherhood than any of the others so far. I'll make sure that you keep your place here." He paused, "Ti prometto."

"You know, I don't usually cry this much in front of people." She laughed a little, trying to lighten the mood now, tired of being upset. He smiled softly back, seeing her wipe the tears from her face with her sleeve.

"You're going through a lot. . ." Ezio replied, "I understand that, truly, I do. But again: don’t force yourself to go through it alone."

They sat in silence for a while, (Y/n) slowly nodding her head and reaching for the papers beside him that she had gathered were her contracts around the city.

"I'll set things right, mentore." She bowed her head and stood to rest for the night before what would doubtlessly be a long day. She opened her door to find the drawers and doors of her wardrobe open, her bed unmade and the contents of the bag she had arrived with spilt over it.

She began to cry.

🏷️: @fuckinherondale @fandomsfanman​

[words-writ-in-starlight]

I just discovered your fics and THE DRAGON AGE ANIMORPHS OH MY GOD I NEED A MILLION WORDS OF THAT AU PLEASE TELL ME EVERYTHING

THAT AU IS ONE OF THE LEAST POPULAR FICS I’VE EVER WRITTEN AND IT’S A SHAME BECAUSE I’M ACTUALLY VERY CLEVER.

Anyway, Jake is a Seeker who joined the Order young, for appropriately righteous reasons, and got word just before his vigil that his beloved older brother had grown distant in his absence, had joined a cult order of apostate mages and stopped speaking to the family.  He went into his vigil conflicted about the possibility of having to face Tom, someday--or that his cousin the Templar might do it while he wasn’t there--and wound up using the time to think a lot about what it meant to be a Seeker, and what his purpose was, and what it meant to have a duty.  The Spirit of Duty that touched him made him a spectacular Right Hand of the Divine, and an even better leader of the Inquisition.

Rachel’s a Templar, who joined to take some of the burden off her mother and ensure a better life for her sisters.  She’s not a true believer in the religious sense, but she was sold very thoroughly on her job, and when the Harrowing of a childhood friend went badly and took Rachel and the mage, Melissa, with it, Rachel got--vicious.  She scared everyone, including herself, before she managed to pull herself back.  She’s not proud of how things went down in Kirkwall, and doesn’t trust the Chantry anymore, but she’s been a Templar her entire life and didn’t see a way out.  When her cousin offered some kind of redemption, as the commander of an Inquisition, she grabbed the chance with both hands and didn’t look back.  Rachel idly considers feeling guilty, when she notices how attached she’s gotten to their mage Herald, but--the world is ending!  If now’s not the time to kiss herself a handsome elf with sad eyes and a tendency toward giving people static shocks, when IS the time!

Cassie is a diplomat, not born to the Great Game but phenomenally talented at it anyway.  She’s known for being uncommonly nice, so nice that plenty of people don’t even notice that they’re signing their riches away.  She started the political circuit to help fund her parents’ work (Cassie also gets drafted with some frequency into the research work of the Inquisition), but the Great Game is essentially a lobster trap--lots of ways in, not many ways out.  With the Inquisition, she feels like she’s making a difference, not just playing at it.  Also, the Seeker is--charming.  Very charming, even though he fumbles all his fine speeches around her.  She certainly does not think about that while getting them invitations to Halamshiral, though, and no one would dare suggest it.  She’s the only person who doesn’t go on missions--not because she can’t fight, but because she’s so godforsaken busy.

Marco picked up the nickname Seahawk ages ago, or so he’ll tell everyone--it’s because he fits in anywhere, see?  He thinks they call them osprey out here in the South, but they pop up all over Thedas under one name or another.  The perfect spy, with a charming smile and a quick tongue and a self-effacing sense of humor.  Easy to get along with, easy to forget.  It’s a survival skill, when you’re trying to survive in Ferelden as the visibly Tevene son of a disgraced Magistrix.  He and Jake worked as Left and Right Hand, respectively, for years before the death of the Divine, with a carefully managed policy of ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies.  It makes it--difficult, for both of them, when they start running the Inquisition and Jake starts trying to reign Marco’s more ruthless tendencies in.  Marco’s personal quest, featuring the opportunity to harden or soften him, involves rescuing his mother from the Venatori or killing her outright, of course.

Ax is a wayward Qunari, of course, bright-eyed and ready to rumble.  He’s not a mercenary so much as a cadet displaced from his troop, which was annihilated by a Venatori attack along with his previous Karasten, his commander, who Ax grew up with and worshiped like a brother.  The Inquisition is essentially the couch he’s crashing on, until they find a way to get him back to his people, and if he gets to hit some things in the meantime, all the better.  Ax is a true believer in the Qun, who barely concedes to have his Qun name shortened by the others, of course he is, he is loyal to his people, these outsiders just don’t understand, but--

But, of course, Karasten always said the same thing, even after his long absence from the Qun when he was presumed dead.  And then, of course, he hears the Herald describe the Qunari who dragged him out of the Fade at the cost of his own life, and it sounds like Karasten, it has to be Karasten, but he gave the Herald a name that Ax has never heard, a decidedly un-Qunari name, and then--and then they find evidence that his Karasten was not doing battle all that time after all.  That he, perhaps, fell in love with a Dalish woman and adopted a son before being forced back to the Qun against his will.  And that he might have been hoping to pull his brother out as well, before he died saving the son he’d lost.  Ultimately Ax chooses the Inquisition, after meeting his brother’s shade in the Fade.  He lets Karasten--he lets Elfangor give him a new name, and keeps it forever.

And Tobias, of course, is the Herald.  He didn’t even need to be at the Conclave.  He was turned out of his clan and had hoped, a little recklessly, a little suicidally, that bringing information from the Conclave would win him entry to some clan, somewhere that wasn’t a Circle with their rules and their cruelty.  Now he has a green mark on his hand and the weight of an Inquisition on his shoulders, worshiping him as a Herald of a Maker he doesn’t even believe in.  But he believes in the cause--who couldn’t, with the Commander saying serious things about protecting people and kicking these demons off their world--and he can’t get rid of the mark, so...  All right, then.  He’ll do it.

[emerald-amidst-gold]

FRIEND FRIEnd friend fr-

I have a 🌟 question 🌟

Souvenirs from days gone: Does Fane have a mundane object he's emotionally attached to from his past (draconic past or most recent)? A toy, a piece of clothing that doesn't fit any longer but he can't find in his heart to get rid of, a pretty pebble or a dried flower someone dear gave him in days long gone?

FRIEND, FRIIIIEEENNNNDDD! >:D Your questions always leave me pleasantly surprised and EXCITED because I just love explaining Fane's oddities and softer side!

So, objects that Fane is emotionally attached to? There are quite a few, actually! (Surprise, right? X'D) However, I'll go with the one that Fane cherishes the most!

In my fic, Mhairi gives Fane a crimson sash as a birthday present, and it's the only article of clothing (other than his leather wraps) that he wears that has Dalish inspiration. Though, he doesn't wear it because of that, of course, but the gift is something Fane rarely goes without because it was the first gift he received after his father's experiments ended (about a year after, in fact). It was like a safety blanket, a reminder that he wasn't truly alone, and that what he did perhaps wasn't in vain since Mhairi was alive, whole, and 100% unaware of everything that had happened to him.

----

"Vhenan, what is this? It appears to be of Dalish craftsmanship, but the materials are not what I'm accustomed to seeing.", Solas asked, turning to face where he was at the desk.

The rich crimson flowed over his sky's hands, delicate gold embroidery of leafless trees and the tiniest of hallas all along its edges and woven into the very core of velvet. Solas had a thoughtful, curious expression on his face, blue and grey orbs fixed on the beautiful article, almost appraising it. Fane chuckled at that, lifting a hand to scratch at his temple idly. Leave it to this elf to immediately pinpoint the one thing that actually meant something in his 'hoard' and assess it.

"You're too nosy for your own good sometimes, you know that?", Fane said, but he kept his voice light and a small smirk on his face. He wasn't miffed with the man; there were no secrets between them, just surprises as they learned and relearned.

Solas blinked, eyes and face snapping up to him as he was caught red handed. "I only--", he began, but Fane cut him off with a small wave of his hand.

He rolled his eyes, smirking more. "I know, my sky. Relax.", he assured, slowly pushing himself up from his seat with only a minor grimace of discomfort. He sat for too long again. How he did that with his job, he would never know.

Fane circled around the other end of his desk, strides slow, but not seeming like it as he easily closed the distance between he and Solas. The mage looked up at him, a wry smirk on his lips and the uncommon sight of sheepishness in his sky-line eyes. It was always a treat when he could coax out those hidden emotions with a few words. Always a treat.

"Here," Fane held out his hands, palms up and beckoning with two fingers. "..give it.", he said and smiled a tad more warmly as Solas gave him the crimson article of cloth without protest or question. The wolf was as keen as it was curious.

"I assume it is of sentimental value?", Solas asked as Fane began to fold the length of velvet and gold in a specific fashion, shortening it one way, lengthening it in another.

Fane nodded. "It was a gift.", he said, pulling the material taut to work out the kinks before seamlessly starting to wrap it around his waist. It was a bit harder to work this into his normal attire, especially with what he wore now, but the mage would get the gist.

Solas watched him raptly, head tilting a bit. "A gift?", he asked.

Fane huffed with amusement. "I know, an odd thought, but yes.", he affirmed, deftly tying and tucking without any thought. He had done this for so long that he barely had to visualize how the sash would lay, how the material would bunch or smooth out. As such, he glanced up, meeting soft orbs and a tender expression and greeted it one of his own. "..It was from Mhairi, so I guess it really isn't that odd of a thought if you think about it."

Realization flashed across his sky's features, thoughtfulness dissolving, blue swallowing grey as irises widened and pupils did so in turn. The shock wore off quickly, however, Solas' expression warming to where Fane could swear he could feel its heat physically. Or maybe that was just his face. His cheeks did feel warm. Which meant...he was blushing. Lovely. Why did he always blush when confronted with that look? Damn it all.

"I see. The craftsmanship makes more sense now with that in mind. Your sister is immensely talented in the delicate arts.", Solas said, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips more as he took a few steps to where Fane was suddenly having trouble tying due to how much warmth was between them. Damn the sky... It was too beautiful, too strong.

Fane cleared his throat harshly. "Yeah, she is.", he agreed, quickly turning his gaze down to crimson and gold because the view of blue and grey was making him lightheaded. "She spent months gathering the supplies and funds to make it. Odd jobs in the clan for coin and whatnot. I remember snapping at her when she told me she had gone to local villages to gather rarer items. Stubborn girl.", he grumbled, but smiled fondly all the while. His sister was indeed stubborn, but so was he. At least they were related in that fashion.

"She was willing to tempt to danger for you. I do not believe that is solely stubbornness, vhenan.", Solas explained with a fond chuckle.

Fane shrugged. "Guess not, but I still didn't like the thought of her traipsing into a town full of templars ready to maim her, to silence her.", he growled before taking a deep breath. Calm, calm. He would end up tearing the sash if he thought on those memories too much.

"Truthfully, nor do I relish that thought. Especially since I have seen the effects those in the armor have upon her.", the mage admitted. Fane remembered the event that Solas spoke of without full context. He would not let another gauntlet touch either of them again. "But, her gesture and endeavors were well meaning; they came from a place of love."

Fane hummed, ire washing away as he gazed at crimson and gold, trees and hallas. "Don't I know it.", he whispered with fondness. A new feeling of tranquility washed over him as he gazed down at the masterful sash, memories beginning to wiggle into his mind. "Material magic. That's what I've always called it."

He heard Solas chuckle, his hands coming into to view to help resume the task Fane could no longer complete due to emotions and more innocent days painting his psyche in gentle shades of pink. Every time he looked at his sister's gift for over long he...drifted, but not like how he once had when he gazed up at the sky, watching its expanse shift and feel his heart ache with yearning. This was more gentle, more welcome. It was nice.

"Explain?", Solas inquired, voice soft and gestures softer as slender hands skimmed along his waist and plucked at cloth. The mage was less prodding and more...reverent now. That made Fane lean forward a bit, resting the side of his head against Solas'.

"I just..feel calm from mere sight and touch. It's like how I feel when you speak to me in Elvhen in the morning.", he murmured, glancing down to see Solas was being less productive now, fingers merely tracing, feeling and memorizing delicate designs as his eyes were. "The material holds warmth and love; things I feel I still don't deserve, but am learning to accept. It's...something I don't think I'll be able to abandon even if the world commands me to." It would be one call he would not answer, and he would not feel guilt over it this time.

Solas' eyes fluttered shut. "Some must be obeyed, some mustn't. That is one I believe would be forgiven.", he whispered, coming closer still, fingers curling into lushness as Fane brought his arms up to loosely wrap them around an unadorned waist.

Fane hummed, nuzzling against the mage's temple absently. "We'll see about that, won't we? I may not abandon my sister's gift, but--"

Solas cut him off with a gentle shake of his head, eyes turning away from sanctuary to bore up into him, face soft, but expression hard. It was a look Fane was all too familiar with; they wouldn't think past today, or rather, he wouldn't. Easier said than done, but his sky was right. As always. He would find sanctuary tonight, not tear apart fabric as surely as he would one day tear apart a heart plated in gold and wrapped in velvet.

----

Fane loves Mhairi with all his heart. They may not be brother and sister in blood, but they are in soul. It's why everything he has to do and say later hurts so immensely; he doesn't want to do it. And it only hurts worse when the sash becomes a sword of pain to his heart rather than a blanket of sanctuary, but he keeps it, he endures. The sash seems mundane to those on the outside, but Fane doesn't care about them or what they think. He'll take any ounce of love he can, even if he feels, deep down, that he truly doesn't deserve it.