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halfbloodsnowy · 2 years ago

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16 - Old Magic

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9:30 - DRAGON - The past - Ferelden Circle Tower (Kinloch Hold)

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"You helped a blood mage escape. All our prevention measures for naught! Because of you!" Knight-Commander Greagoir pointed an armored finger at Kena, spittle flying out of his mouth and the vein on his temple near bursting.

Irving breathed out, and glared sideways at Kena.

Her vision began to blur with tears, so unused to criticism from the First Enchanter she wasn't sure what to do. She futilely tried to squeeze the pain in her chest away, but the realization of what she had just taken part in was cutting through her like a whirlwind.

"I expected better of you Amell," the old enchanter pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, the exhaustion clear on his face.

Kena's heart was racing so fast she felt out of breath. What was going to happen to her? If they were going to send Lily to Aeonar, surely the fate of a barely Harrowed mage would be worse.

"Perhaps, tranquility…" she heard Greagoir muse to himself, and she fell to her knees in dizzying panic.

"Don't be ridiculous Greagoir," Irving snapped, "you know it's forbidden to give the brand to a Harrowed mage."

"Kn--Knight-Co--mmander--" she stuttered, but her voice cracked and the words sputtered out. She looked around frantically, for help she already knew wasn't there.

And then her eyes landed on Cullen.

He seemed shocked, helping the injured templars onto stretchers, and when their eyes met he swallowed hard. For a brief moment Amell hoped he'd step in. Insist she had only made one mistake.

I didn't know…

Another templar pounded Cullen on the shoulder and he looked away, disappearing from the hall with the others.

Kena Amell didn't know what she expected, what could he do? Stand up for her? He had been ready to strike her down that very morning, and it wasn't like they were close.

The only person she was close to had left without hesitation, and as the memory of Jowan running away without so much as a backwards glance flooded into her mind, her heart shattered into a thousand pieces.

Stupid, stupid Kena…

Amell hung her head in shame and humiliation, her heart too broken to fight.

"Surely such a fate would not be fair," said Irving, his voice particularly gravelly and thick with contempt, "if your initiate has earned Aeonar for fornicating with a blood mage, then my mage deserves to remain intact as well."

"She can't be forgiven, with tranquility she could still serve. I'm sure the Grand Cleric would give special perm--" Greagoir began, but Irving scoffed.

"Serve the chantry? As a mindless slave?" Irving barked with laughter, and when he gazed on Amell his eyes were cold as ice.

"She'll take the same punishment as your initiate," he said, and it felt like she was just another pawn in whatever game Irving had designed for himself.

Knight-Commander Greagoir rubbed his face with both hands and groaned, "Such a waste."

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9:37 - DRAGON

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Kena found herself squeezing her fingers into her palm so hard her nails broke skin, and she had to shake her head a few times to get the unwelcome thoughts to stop. The hike out of the wilds was long and arduous, and so deafeningly quiet that it allowed old memories to bubble up to the surface like some sickening play with an unending encore.

Go away…

Kena grasped at her head and massaged her temples, forcing herself to count the rocks on the ground, and she was able to distract herself, at least for now.

The group stopped for short rests, but kept moving. They didn't know when, or if, the templars would come to investigate Aeonar, and so they aimed to put as much distance between them and the accursed place before that happened.

It wasn't long before Lily and Kena found themselves crammed onto a small raft their saviors had cobbled together from driftwood. It was wet, and rickety, but it held them, and Jowan used his force magic to propel them away from the island while Galel used the rough oar to steer.

Kena closed her eyes, it was quiet, the only sound coming from Jowan's magic pummeling the lake's surface.

It felt good, the spray of the cold water against her skin, and it reminded her of better memories than the ones that had been tormenting her earlier.

She inhaled the cool air, and smelled pine.

And then quietly, somewhere far away, she thought she heard a laugh, and her eyes snapped up.

"Did you hear that?" she asked, looking around, "Did someone laugh?"

Lily shook her head, and Galel gave Jowan a worried look.

Amell sunk back, and pulled her flimsy robe tighter around herself.

Great, she thought bitterly, I guess they're still here.

********************

It was nearly a week later that they finally made their way to a nearby town. Galel and Jowan found a well hidden cave, and set up wards and barriers to make sure they weren't discovered by any wandering townsfolk.

Lily and Kena had adjusted to freedom in their own ways. Lily had taken quickly to hunting with Jowan, and Galel remained with Kena to make sure she didn't succumb to any demons that may have followed her from Aeonar.

He had also yet to tell the others the command he had received from Asha'bellanar. Amell seemed lost in her thoughts most days, and jumpier than a field mouse, and Galel figured sharing that info would only make her condition worse.

Who would respond well to hearing that they were destined for a life of being hunted by demons?

Jowan and Amell had barely exchanged two words, mostly on account of Amell refusing to speak to him. Lily tried to encourage her to talk with Jowan, but she was brushed aside. Kena was angry, and it didn't seem to be waning in the least.

Growing frustrated, Jowan knew Kena felt betrayed and he knew she deserved to be angry, but being ignored was beginning to grate on him. He was ashamed, and every time she refused to return his greetings, or look at him, he felt it like a stab in the heart. He wished she would at least yell at him, or hit him, that he could bear.

But the strange, silent limbo they were in was worse than any physical pain he had endured.

"I just wish she'd beat me up and be done with it," he complained to Lily. They were risking a trip into town for supplies, but he couldn't get Kena off his mind.

"Be patient Jowan," Lily said as they moved quietly through the nearly empty streets. Galel had loaned Lily his cloak, and she did her best to hide her dirty Chantry robe, "I've had the luxury of thinking of you for years, she wasn't given a moment's rest. I've loved you for a long time, but there was even a time that I wanted to kill you for getting me into this mess."

Jowan's cheeks flushed with shame. He realized how selfish he must have seemed worrying only about his own feelings instead of Lily or Amell's.

"I'm sorry Lily, I can't say it enough."

Lily smiled weakly at him, "I've already forgiven you my love, but understand your friend may need much, much more time. You've wounded her deeply, and it may never be the same between you."

Jowan knew her words were true, but he couldn't help but feel frustrated anyway. Patience was never his strong suit. Lily tapped him on the shoulder and gestured toward a store that seemed to be selling old clothing and various knick-knacks, "I think we should try there."

Jowan squeezed the small bag of coins he had in his pocket, the same coin he had been paid years before by the warrior outside of Denerim. He hadn't spent much of it, he didn't need to with Galel, but he wasn't sure it would be enough for much, "Here's hoping they'll have something."

********************

Kena stared into the flames, gnawing on a strip of dried nug meat. She'd been feeling stronger the last few days, despite the difficult journey through the forest, and the occasional whispers. Even though she knew the demons were still there, pushing against the bruised and battered barriers of her mind, they were being positively polite compared to Aeonar. For the last few days, she had even been having rather pleasant dreams consisting mostly of amorphous shapes and mundane tasks.

Yet still, there was one night not long after the possessed nug incident, that she'd been approached by a demon of rage. She was shaken awake quickly from that nightmare, Galel there to calm her down again. His strange Dalish magic a comfort in the cold dark of the forest.

He was repairing a rope across the flames from her, his face was twisted in concentration and the black ink of his tattoos were a void against the firelight. She'd only ever seen the Dalish rendered horribly in her textbooks, the artist exaggerating their teeth into points, and the tattoos of their face far more ugly then the artwork she was admiring now.

"What does your tattoo mean?" she blurted out, surprising herself, but curiosity always did get the better of her.

Galel smiled, still concentrating on his rope, "It means I was a very foolish young man, and I thought marking myself as devoted to the God of Vengeance would scare my enemies."

"It probably hurt like the Void huh? All that ink and those needles…" she shuddered.

"My eye was swollen shut for a week, that really put the fear into my enemies," he joked, and Amell laughed out loud.

He looked up to see her smile. He had grown fond of seeing the expression, however rare it was. Her teeth were yellowed from poor care, and her front tooth was chipped, but something about the way the corner of her mouth pulled higher to the right, and how her eyes scrunched into half moons when she smiled tugged at him in a way he wasn't quite sure he understood.

Yet she still refused to smile around Jowan, and he felt a twinge of pity for his friend.

"Well," she began, taking another bite of meat, "it suits you."

Galel's face flushed at the compliment, and he thanked the dimly lit cave and the burning flame for making it impossible for her to notice, "Erm, thank you," he muttered, and quickly began focusing on his rope again.

Kena finished off the nug and sipped from a waterskin, "I'm feeling much better. I can help around the camp, you know."

"You still need to rest," said Galel, tying off the rope and setting it aside, "once you've fully recovered there will be plenty of work for you."

Amell twisted her mouth in disapproval, "You're letting Lily help Jowan, why aren't you letting me help you?"

"Lily is fine," said Galel, "she wasn't as… injured as you."

Amell wanted to argue, but she was too tired to, which she begrudgingly had to admit to herself meant Galel was right.

But compared to before, she was feeling better, and she hadn't been harassed by a demon in five days. That had to mean something.

I am getting better… right?

"You're treating me like a child, I can't keep leeching off of you," she protested, "let me help with something."

Galel sighed and looked at her, she seemed earnest, but she was far from healthy. She had gained color back in her cheeks, and her skin had taken to the sun well, but she still moved slowly, and took too long to wake up.

"Fine," he relented, standing up and bringing over a satchel of herbs, "I need these to be reorganized, and I'd appreciate the help. I assume you've studied herbs at your Circle?"

Amell took the satchel and beamed, "I was quite good at it, not to brag."

Galel laughed, "Well then, please make sure they're separated by species, and then quality."

Amell excitedly got to work, spreading out a small cloth and laying out the herbs. She began moving quickly, separating and categorizing the plants as instructed.

The fire began to crackle, and the flames were burning low. The air was chillier than normal, and he was certain he could smell rain.

"I'm going to gather more firewood," he said.

Amell waved him off, too focused on her task to respond. Her brow was scrunched up, her lips mouthing words silently to herself as she worked, and he never thought he'd find a shemlen so endearing.

Yet here he was, admiring her focus, her will to survive.

And her furrowed brow… and the fullness of her lips…

He realized he was staring and broke his gaze, practically darting out of the cave. His head was fuzzy, and he felt beyond foolish. What was the matter with him? He hadn't been this thrown by a woman in a very long time, and never a human one.

He couldn't understand why.

Or maybe he could. He'd always been fond of survival, of people who would scrape and claw their way back to the top. People whose hearts burned with rage, and life and vengeance .

He began gathering firewood, his mind a million miles away.

And then he heard a scream.

Her scream.

He dropped the wood and ran back to the camp, skidding into the cave just in time to see Kena thrown back into the cave wall, a massive shade looming over her. Her hands were ablaze, and she was launching fireball after fireball at the creature.

But her aim was off, and she kept missing.

Galel grabbed his staff from his back and spun it above his head, whipping down a force spell that pummeled the creature into the ground at Amell's feet.

She yelled angrily, a cone of flame blasting off her hands and singeing the creature into dust.

Amell suddenly collapsed against the stone wall and sank to the ground. Her fingertips white and clutching into her chest, she was wheezing heavily, her skin wet from exertion, and when he knelt beside her he noticed a massive gash in her side, and then he noticed the sickening red of the blood pooling under her tattered robe.

"It wanted in, and it got mad I-- I said fuck off," she whimpered.

Galel was furious. The one time he'd left her alone since they left Aeonar and a demon had found her. He thought it was safe, he had personally searched the cave, but must have missed something. It could've been an old grave, or some other putrid crevice the creature had been hiding in, biding its time.

"This is never going to stop is it?" she muttered.

"Quiet now," Galel whispered. He placed his hand over her wound, healing it as best he could, but it was deep, deeper than his spell could go, "You're still bleeding, inside."

He looked her in the eye, and she was sickly pale, the sweat beading on her forehead like great blobs.

"Shit," she wheezed, "I need lyrium."

He began to panic, his heart racing. He'd been able to handle everything until now, even the clash with the templar. But the shade's cut was different, deeper and already infected. A dark magical wound that Dalish healing couldn't put right.

He held his hand over the gash, and pulled the small dagger from his belt.

"Wh-- what are you d-doing?!" she stuttered, "blood--"

Galel slashed his palm open, and slammed his hand over the wound, his blood sizzling through her skin and mingling with her own. She gasped and clawed at his arm, her eyes pure terror as she desperately tried to pry him away.

And then she fainted, and Galel found himself alone, his ears still ringing with her screams.

********************

Amell woke with a start.

His blood had pierced her like sharp tendrils, there was a pungent smell in the air, and it felt like she had been stabbed with a hot poker.

But she felt strong.

She looked down at herself, the blood on her dark robe burned into a black mark by whatever magic Galel had performed on her. If she hadn't known she was bleeding to death just minutes before, she'd think it was just a muddy stain.

Galel was sitting near her, his gaze so intently on her that she scampered away from him and grabbed at her side.

"It's," she looked down, through the puncture hole in her robe, "it's not hurting anymore."

Galel sat back, and squeezed his hand shut tight, "It was necessary."

Kena stared at him, her face a mixture of anger and gratefulness, "You used blood magic on me--"

"To heal you," he said, "it's just magic, like any other."

"It's evil," she hissed.

"No more evil than your phylacteries, but the templars don't complain about those now do they?"

Kena opened her mouth to protest, but she couldn't argue. It hadn't occurred to her that the phylacteries were blood magic, but when she thought about it, it made sense.

"I… thank you," she croaked, and then she looked at his hand, "can you heal yourself?"

Galel shook his head and rested against the cave wall, "not right now, I need to recover first."

Kena slid over to him, and ripped a strip of cloth off her dirty robe. She grabbed the elfroot and held her hand out to him, "give me your hand."

Galel seemed reluctant, but he held his hand out to her. She gently opened it, crushing the elfroot into the gash. He winced, but the herb began dulling the pain almost instantly. She wrapped his hand with the cloth and tied it.

"Hopefully that helps a bit, until you feel better."

The cloth was filthy, but the elfroot would prevent any infection and she seemed earnest in her attempt to help.

He was grateful.

"Thank you," he said.

She smiled at him, turning to rest her back on the cave wall next to him, "Thanks for, uh, saving me," she responded, staring back into the fire.

Galel forced a smile, but he knew he'd only temporarily helped her. The demons would keep coming. She may have a few days, or months, or even years of freedom from their attention, but they would always come back.

She seemed to be thinking the same thing, and buried her face in her knees, "Is this my life now, haunted by demons forever?"

"You need time to heal," he swallowed a lump, and they both sat in silence, "it may be years before you feel safe."

"Is there nothing I can do to speed it up?" she said, flustered, "How can I survive years like this?"

He wasn't sure if it would work, but there was a spell he had read about while studying to be Keeper. Old magic that might help shield her from a demon's attention.

"Perhaps…" he began, unsure of how to explain, "there is a way to keep them from coming, at least partially."

She looked up at him, "How?" she asked, but he could tell in her eyes that she already knew the answer.

"It's a spell, an old one, and--"

"It's blood magic," she whispered.

He couldn't read her tone, or expression, and he wasn't sure if he'd perhaps suggested something so terrible to her that she would reject it outright.

But she was quiet, biting at her thumb.

The sound of footsteps entered the cave, and they both looked up to see Lily and Jowan, sacks of goods over both their shoulders.

"Who wants a change?" Lily asked, beaming as she dropped the small bag of clothing at their feet, "Now if only we could have a bath too."

"Perhaps in the next town we'll be able to stay in a proper tavern," Jowan hoped aloud, "once we're far enough away from any templars."

Lily pulled some clothing out of the bag, and handed it to Kena, "I doubt we'll find a town free of templars."

Kena changed behind a large rock, and though she knew her companions were only a few feet away, every shift in the dirt and every sound beyond the trees made her jump.

She was afraid. She hated being afraid.

She pulled on the loose blue tunic, black pants and old boots. They fit poorly, but it was better than the rags and cramped slippers she was wearing before. She wrapped the belt around her waist to keep the tunic from flopping around wildly, and quickly ran back to the fire, where Galel and Jowan sat planning their next move.

"You look great Kena!" Jowan quipped, but she ignored him. She still didn't feel like talking to him, and he'd have to suffer her silence for a while longer.

She sat defiantly beside Galel.

Scowling, Jowan focused his gaze into the fire.

Lily returned in an oversized brown tunic with brown pants and similar old boots, "It's not perfect, but it was the cheapest we could find."

"It's a lot warmer than the garbage I was wearing before," Kena said, "thank you."

"Thank Jowan, he bought it," said the sister, but Kena shrugged and seemed suddenly very interested in poking at the fire.

Galel cleared his throat, and gestured for Lily to sit down, "Jowan and I have been speaking."

"We think it's best we cross the border, into Tevinter," said Jowan, but he seemed bashful.

Lily breathed uneasily, "I don't like the thought of being surrounded by magisters."

"It's the only place we'll be able to avoid the templars, at least temporarily," Jowan added.

"But they practice blood magic in the street!" Lily protested, and Jowan shot Galel a curious look.

Kena noticed, and piped in defensively, "Well, blood magic is just old magic. It just depends on how you use it."

Lily stared open mouthed at Kena, "I can't believe you'd say such a thing. You know what blood magic can do, what it's done to us!"

Kena shrugged, "Well, the templars use it. So how come it's only evil if we use it."

"They do not!" Lily protested.

"Lily--" Jowan began, but Kena cut him off.

"Phylacteries? Remember those?" Kena asked.

Lily snapped her mouth shut and seemed very confused for a moment.

And then she yelped, "Maker!"

"Right?!" Kena said, and she seemed excited by the revelation, "I can't believe I didn't realize--"

"It's still evil," said Lily, stubbornly. She crossed her arms, nudging Jowan for support.

Jowan laughed nervously, "Well, of course it is, but--"

"Is it evil, Jowan?" Galel interjected, and Jowan shot him a pleading look that Lily immediately noticed.

"What does he mean by that?" she asked, glaring between the two.

"Nothing my love, nothing…" Jowan seemed desperate to change the subject, but Lily wasn't having it. She turned to Galel, "What do you mean by that?"

Galel ran his hand through his hair and regretted saying anything at all, but Amell spoke before he could, "He healed me with it! Right before you came in, a demon slashed me and--"

"A demon?!" Jowan yelled, turning angrily to Galel, "Why didn't you tell us?!"

"We handled it," Kena groaned in frustration. Jowan was acting awfully protective for someone who had abandoned her, and she didn't like it. "I was bleeding out, and regular healing spells weren't working so Galel fixed me right up. See for yourself!" she stood up and excitedly lifted her tunic, revealing the silvery scar of the gash from earlier, "I've never seen any of the healing spells in the Circle leave something pretty like that."

Jowan's face went pale at the sight of her bare belly.

It wasn't the reaction she expected to her new silvery scar, and then she saw his eyes roaming her belly. Darting between every other scar she had. There were still blackened bruises, deep scars both fresh and old and small chunks of flesh missing.

She seemed hollowed out with needles, and even Amell herself hadn't noticed how bad it was in the dim light of her dungeon cell.

Galel's face was grim, and Lily covered her mouth in shock. Lily had seen some of her scars, and the blood, but to have it on full display seemed to be another thing entirely.

Kena's face flushed at their expressions, and she plopped back to the ground, refusing to look any of them in the face, "Stop acting like old women, you know what they do to mages... over there ."

"Kena…" Jowan began, but Amell cut him off.

"Blood magic isn't always evil, is all I'm trying to say," she half-yelled over him, and resumed her prodding of the fire.

"It's old magic, like any other," Galel cleared his throat, "we've been talking, about the recent demons--"

"Maybe we just need to get farther away from Aeonar," Lily interrupted, "maybe they'll forget her then."

"No, they won't," Jowan responded grimly, "I've read about possession, erm, during my studies at the Circle," he scratched his chest nervously, "if you've opened up to one demon, others will follow."

"Precisely," Galel said, and he returned his gaze to Kena, "which is why we have little choice but to rely on the old magic to hide her."

"If by old magic, you mean blood magic, then the answer is no," Jowan said, "blood magic will only attract more demons. I swore I'd never do it again."

"The spell is a tether, between two mages, instead of the beacon she's become for demons her lifeforce will mimic that of the host mage. The demons will notice her only as much as they'd notice me," Galel tried to explain, but Jowan shook his head.

"No, I can't believe you'd suggest this--"

"It needs two mages to complete," Kena begged, still focused on prodding the fire, "I can't cast it on myself, and I'd rather not have demons pouncing on me whenever they feel like it!"

Jowan looked up at Kena, and realized it was the first time she'd spoken to him directly.

"Blood magic is evil!" Lily protested, "How could you even consider it? It's what landed us in Aeonar!"

Kena scoffed, looking directly at Jowan for the first time since leaving Aeonar, "I think he's the reason we landed in Aeonar, and if you can't see that you're a fool."

"Kena!" Jowan scolded, "Don't talk to her like that. It was my fault, I take responsibility--"

Lily stood up, her eyes brimming with tears, "You keep acting like you were the only one who suffered, who took beatings, and punishments and tests--"

"They never took pieces of your flesh!" screamed Amell, throwing her stick in the flames, "Galel saved me today, with magic the Chantry says is evil. So what was the magic, and the pain they SO GRACIOUSLY bestowed on me at Aeonar? You're really telling me that was better?"

"Kena, please calm down," begged Jowan, rising to his feet, but Kena shushed him.

She hobbled to her feet, pointing at Lily, "Was it goodness that forced lyrium down my throat? Was it goodness that made me enter the fade, again and again just to dangle me in front of demons?!"

"We were all tested!" Lily yelled, her hands balled into fists at her side.

"Lily, please--" begged Jowan.

Galel rose to his feet, and tried to calm Kena, but she shrugged him off.

"Was it goodness that allowed a beast like Gustav to drag me into the hall and-- and--" Kena screamed wildly, and Galel and Jowan shot each other with worried expressions.

The fire began to bellow, the air crackling with angry magic as Kena's emotions ran wild.

"Don't deflect!" Lily protested, "Gustav was evil, but he has nothing to do with this!"

"So the Chantry gets to use their little blood magic phylacteries to keep us leashed," Kena growled, "but I can't use it to save my life?"

Lily sputtered.

She turned to Jowan, "You can't be considering this?!"

"Of course not!" said Jowan, "But let's all please calm down--"

"You won't help me?!" Kena screamed, fear and panic on her face, "The demons will have me before the month's end if you don't help me!"

"There is always another way--" Lily interjected, but Kena screamed again, throwing a tantrum she hadn't thrown since she was a child.

She was completely unhinged and cursed at Lily just as her hands burst into flame.

Galel grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her back, a green energy diffusing from his hands, "Kena, breath."

Amell suddenly went slack, and the flames in her palms fizzled out.

She sucked in a hard breath, and yanked herself out of Galel's grip.

"I don't have time... to find another way," she whispered through her teeth.

Lily shook her head in disbelief at Kena and threw her hands in the air, "Fine, do whatever you want. But I'll have no part in it."

"Lily--" Jowan begged, reaching for her hand, but she swat it away and stormed out of the cave.

Jowan looked back and forth between Kena and Lily, "I-- Maker--"

"Go follow your precious Lily," Amell spat, "no use pretending you care about me anymore."

"I do care about you!" he yelled, his throat tightening, "I love you, you're like a sister to me! The only family I've ever had!"

"But you won't help me?" she retorted.

"I swore I'd never use blood magic again, I can't do it. I'm sure there has to be another way…" he cried out, pulling at his hair in frustration.

"The spell needs a separate caster," said Galel, "and I don't think we should risk waiting much longer to do it."

"You're not helping, Galel," Jowan hissed, and faced Kena, "please, understand why this is wrong Kena. I will help you, I'll help find another way, I swear it."

Kena quietly made a spitting sound to herself and crossed her arms, looking away from him.

Jowan was furious, Galel had put these stupid ideas into her head, and she had fallen head first for it. Even after all these years, she was still so terribly easy to influence. Still too trusting.

"Look at me!" he begged.

She turned away from him, the same way she did when they were children and he annoyed her.

And then something in him snapped. He had had enough. He stormed around the fire and forced her into a hug.

"Get the fuck off me!" she yelled, trying to push away.

"No!" growled Jowan, she tried to bite him on the shoulder, but he wouldn't let go.

"Jowan," Galel warned, "let her go."

"No!" Jowan protested, squeezing her tighter. The whole thing looked absolutely ridiculous, but he didn't care. She was being stubborn, she needed to know he still cared.

"This is ridiculous, you can't treat me like this forever!" he begged.

Kena screamed, and Jowan yelped as Galel finally pried him off and shoved him against the cave wall.

"Enough!" the elf bellowed, his yellow eyes burning a hole through Jowan's.

"She's my family!" Jowan spat, shoving Galel away, "This is none of your business--"

Kena screamed at Jowan and fell beside the fire, her hands gripping the ground so hard her fingernails bled, "I--I can't be around you," she cried, her voice breaking with angry tears, "I can't look at you, I can't see you, I can't…"

"Kena…" Jowan begged, his voice cracking, "I'm so, so sorr--"

"Stop it!" she screeched, staring wildly into the flames, "I don't want to hear it, I can't hear it. I hate you, I hate you, I hate you…" she slammed her hands over her ears and kept muttering the phrase, over and over again as if she were trying to convince herself it were true.

Galel breathed out quietly, and Jowan could tell even he was shaken, "You should go, you both need time to calm down."

He wanted to punch Galel for so easily taking his place. Kena had latched onto the elf the same way she'd latched onto him when she first came to the Circle. Jowan opened his mouth to protest, but he couldn't form the words.

So he shoved past the elf and out of the cave in defeat. He thought of following Lily, but the idea filled him with guilt. He couldn't follow her now, he had to be alone.

He wandered into the forest until he saw nothing but trees, and fell at the base of an ancient, gnarled stump.

What had he done? It was selfish, dragging Kena into his mistakes. If it weren't for him, she would have been fine. If he had never dabbled in blood magic, he would have never been held back by Irving. If he had never asked Amell to help him, she and Lily would have never suffered the terror of Aeonar.

But he wanted to be with Lily, living as he pleased, how he pleased.

Why had he waited until Kena was Harrowed to ask for help? He knew of Irving's plans for weeks, but he had kept it secret from her. He knew her Harrowing was coming soon, Cullen had warned her as much. Why didn't he just tell her, when both of their phylacteries were still at Kinloch Hold?

He didn't want to face the truth of it, but deep down, he knew why.

Kena was like a sister to him, a little, cute sister that had started to grow annoying.

But he loved her, and that's why he wanted to make sure she was safe and settled in the Circle before he left. It was for her own good, he'd convinced himself at the time.

He cried out and slammed the back of his head against the tree. He deserved to be punished, to feel pain for what he had done.

Jowan didn't want to take care of her anymore. He didn't want the wide eyed apprentice that had been by his side since before he could remember hanging off of him as he started his new life with Lily.

Kena needed to grow up, and make do without him. She was so naive, there was no way she would survive outside of the Circle, and he was so infatuated with Lily that he didn't want his little sister tagging along like a lost puppy as he started his new life.

His whole body shuddered, and he cried, slamming his head into the tree over and over until he saw stars.

She would never forgive him, if she knew, and he'd die before he ever let her know. He regretted it, all of it, and he wished the Maker would turn back time so he could take it all back.

"Jowan?"

He looked up, and Lily stood before him, the sun illuminating the red curls of her hair like embers.

She was so beautiful, so perfect.

And he knew he didn't deserve her.

He buried his face in his hands, too ashamed to look at her anymore.

She sat beside him, and ran her hand over his head, pulling him into a hug, "I'm sorry I lost my temper earlier, I should have been more understanding."

"Don't apologize," he whispered, "ever."

He grabbed her around the waist, and they embraced in silence. He wanted to enjoy this, her, before what would come next.

"Lily," he began, pulling away, he squeezed her arms, and admired her face.

And then he kissed her, and though he half expected her to reject him, she didn't.

He forced himself to pull away, and ran his hands through her hair before kissing her forehead and then letting her go, and he hoped it wasn't for the last time.

"What is it Jowan?" she said, but her voice was uneasy, as if she sensed what he was thinking.

"I have to help her," he murmured.

Lily was quiet for a moment, and she swallowed hard, "It's evil Jowan, you promised you'd give it up…"

"I know," he said, ashamed, "but she needs my help. This is the last time, I swear."

Lily shook her head, wiping a tear away, "How can I believe that?"

She pulled away from Jowan, and squeezed her knees to her chest, "Do what you must, but I'll have no part in it."

"Lily," he began, reaching for her, but she moved away from his touch, and he felt his heart shatter.

"Tell me when you're done, I don't want to see it," she whispered.

He nodded glumly, and stood up, sulking back to the cave.

This is the last time, I swear it…

#jowan x lily #read at your own risk #dragon age #dragon age amell #amell #dragon age fanfiction #dragon age fanfic #all warnings apply just in case

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a-gay-bloodmage · 7 years ago

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Even in the years he’d spent in The Circle, he’d sneak down to the kitchens with Jowan, and eventually Lily, being careful to not get caught by the staff as they ate jam by the spoonfuls. He remembered how quickly Lily had become a part of their little circle within The Circle, as she’d been moved to The Tower as a Sister-in-Training with several other Sisters from her home town of Mayleaf on the North side of Lake Calenhad. She’d been thirteen, but cute as ever, making many of the young apprentices flock to her. Jowan had been one of her many young admirers, even if they’d just fallen into a steady friendship at first. It didn’t stop him from giving her flowers every so often, however. He wondered how his friends were doing, always worried that something awful had happened to them.

An except from the fanfiction I’m writing showing my immense support for my Warden’s two best friends

#i love them so much and oh my god redren misses them so badly #redren #fanfiction #bloodflowers #jowan x lily #da jowan #da lily #original content #da warden #dragon age #dragon age origins

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cullywullywoman · 5 years ago

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She’s got the same body as all the other women. Meanwhile all the male bartenders in Ferledan have ten chins and look twelve months pregnant.

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notabloodmage · 4 years ago

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Pray (Leliana x Amell)

Lily never understood how to pray. She and the Chantry just didn’t go well together. Whenever the young apprentices were herded into the small chapel of Kinloch Hold she was the first to doze off, and that was on a good day. More often, Lily would wrinkle her nose, cock her head to the side and bombard the Revered Mother with questions. Things like: why do mages have to be locked away? If magic is meant to serve man, isn’t to be used? And, the one that earned her a pile of extra essays from Irving: What makes blood magic so bad, anyway? The best, of course, was that one time she and the Anders set off a string of firecrackers under the templar’s pews, and the bulk of the order danced around the room shouting over their burning breeches. It was flogging and a week of solitary for both of them, but the look on Greagoir’s face made it worth it.

But even the sermons were bearable compared to the praying. Sitting in silence, listening to Keili sniffle as she begged the Maker to rid her of her accursed magic, listen to Jowan grind his teeth every time that one initiate restarted her chant. It was more than Lily could handle most days. She would clench her fists, close her eyes, and focus on breathing quietly, like Papa taught her when she had to hide. Papa never liked the chantry either. “Their Maker hasn’t done nothin’ for your kind, and don’t you forget it.�� He said once when Lily asked why he never sang the chant with the rest of the Amells.

That was before they fled the Free Marches, before Mama died. He was always so bitter, even then. Never blamed Lily, or her magic, but the world that despised them. They hid well, it took years for the templars to find them, and Papa fought to his last breath trying to keep Lily with her family. Alas, at eleven years old, Lily was dragged kicking and screaming away from her father’s corpse, and placed under the care of First Enchanter Irving. Irving had taken on the scrappy little apostate as his personal responsibility, and Lily learned much under his instruction.

Out of the walls of the Circle, Lily’s hatred of the chant began to shrink. It was still there, but quieter, gentler, much to her own surprise. At least out here, Lily was allowed to not only criticize the Chantry but joke about it freely. Alistair would always burst out into snickers when Lily muttered her own parody of the chant under her breath, even adding a few verses of his own, which made Lily laugh harder than she had in years.

The chanter’s board gave Lily an easy way to find those who needed her help, and when they didn’t know she was a mage, the Revered Mothers were so much kinder. So much less focused on being repentant and more focused on the best way to help those in need. The Grey Warden title brought honour with it, and in the chantry, that honour was respected, even if they couldn’t offer them any tangible help.

Of course, Lily knew that none of these were the true reason she’d begun to tolerate the chant as it rang in her ears.

It was her.

Leliana always got a faraway look in her eyes when she spoke of the cloister and the peace she found there; as if it were a setting in one of her stories. Every time Lily met Leliana’s eyes she drowned in a sea of sky blue. Her voice was a tether that managed to bring Lily home every time, always with a smile and a kind word.

Leliana always had the softest smile on her face as she sang the chant before bed, kneeling before her bedroll, hands clasped. Leliana never closed her eyes when she prayed, she always kept her eyes turned skyward, tracing the constellations with her gaze as she whispered to them. Lily had watched her from the corner of her eye more than she cared to admit. The way the sister’s shoulders would begin to relax as she murmured, and how peaceful she looked when the chant was finished. Once, after she had finished her nightly ritual, Leliana caught Lily’s gaze with a wink. Lily’s heart leapt into her throat, and the mage turned away to hide the blush that crept up her cheeks.

Lily never understood how to pray,

but Leliana made her want to try.

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vitosscaletta · 5 years ago

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dr*gon *ge if you didnt already get it... if you did then. fallout? 😳

THANK YOOUUUUU 💕💕💕💕💕 I’m gonna do both >:^)… with dao and fellout 4

DRAGON AGE ORIGINS

otpWarden/Alistair bitch!!! I know it’s basic but idc! Also Warden/Zev 😳

favourite canon pairing“Estella & Alistair, they’re canon and better than anything we’ll ever come up with”— David Gaider

worst pairing everu h h h h h I don’t think I’ve ever come across any awful pairings with dao??? Not a fan of Warden/Loghain but mostly bc one person I saw doing that once was being really annoying about it and hated Alistair for some reason & acted like they were edgy and cool or something for that but literally scrapped it like 2 weeks later lol. loser

guilty pleasure pairingnone

a pairing you want to see moreomg Warden/Morrigan!!! Also imma be real i never played through the Aeducan origin completely bc I HATE the deep roads but that guy who’s their bodyguard or something & later sells those fine dwarven crafts from orzammar??? that’s their bf! (ALSO Jowan/Amell babey.. we’re ignoring Lily here)

that pairing everyone likes but you’re like “lol no”Cullen/Amell 😳 I don’t hate but I also can’t really get behind it lol if u ship it good for you tho!! Also don’t like Alistair/Anora

EDIT: I take it back Cullen/Amell sucks

favorite non-romantic pairZev/Warden….. I think their friendship path alone is v cute it doesn’t even have to be romantic 🤧🤧

FAWWOUT 4

otpUm Sole Survivor/their spouse 😳😳😳 Imma be real chief I don’t like the romance options (except Preston)

favourite canon pairingAGAIN, Sole Survivor & their spouse babey (specifically Jason and Vivian.) IK a lot of people seem to like making their relationship abusive for some reason but this isn’t about them. I’m not about that life

worst pairing everbhfhjfjhdsjhds SoSu x Maxson.. I don’t have any strong feelings towards it but I do not like that.. NO WAIT I just remembered that there are people who ship their sosu with SHAUN.. HELLO???

guilty pleasure pairingSole Survivor x Arthur Maxson’s coat

a pairing you want to see moreSoSu/Preston I GUESS

that pairing everyone likes but you’re like “lol no”Sole Survivor/Nick??? I can see the appeal but I’m not really invested enough to care for it yknow??

favorite non-romantic pairnothing man I don’t care for the companions sorry

#jennystahl #ask #OH i forgot maccready is a thing.. i guess he has rights too

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non-toxicdragonageconfessions · 6 years ago

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Songday Sunday: Tragic Lovers Playlist

Cullen x Female Amell/Surana Blindness - Metric

Ser Gilmore x Female Cousland Love - Lana del Rey

Gorim x Female Aeducan If a song could get me you - Marit Larsen

Anders x Hawke Glittering Cloud - Imogen Heap

Jowan x Lily How could this happen to me - Simple Plan

Dorian x Male Inquisitor Hard to say I’m sorry - Chicago

Solas x Female Inquisitor It must’ve been love - Roxette

Celene x Briala I will remember you - Sarah McLean

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ser-caspian-the-very-good-boy · 6 years ago

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Theme songs for tragic romances.

(I wanted to make a playlist for romantic couples that end in tragedy, in the world of Dragon Age. Obviously this is not all of them, though I wanted to include some couples that is easily forgotten.)

Branka x Hespith: Bring me to life - Evanescence

Empress Celene x Briala: Young and beautiful - Lana Del Rey

Varric x Bianca: Goodbye my lover - James Blunt

Jowan x Lily: Love is an open door - Frozen

Cullen x female Amell/Surana: Every little thing she does is magic - Sleeping at last (cover)

Tamlen x female Mahariel: Brother - Kodaline

King Maric x Fiona: Only love can hurt like this - Paloma Faith

Solas x female Lavellan: Set fire to the rain - Adele

Ironbull x Dorian: One more night - Maroon 5

If there is anyone I have forgotten or you would like to be acknowledged please comment. Maybe I will do another one in the future.

#dragon age #the warden #dragon age inquisition #dragon age origins #cullen rutherford #tamlen #ironbull #dorian pavus #solas x lavellan #playlist #Theme Song

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daqueen15writes · 7 years ago

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Your Light Remains

Fandom: Dragon Age Rating: Mature Pairing: Cullen Rutherford x Arya Amell Chapter: 1/?? Summary: Eliza Hawke arrives unexpectedly at Skyhold, promising to pledge herself as an agent of the Inquisition under one condition: They will attempt to reverse the Rite of Tranquillity on her cousin, Arya Amell.

Read on AO3 here

Notes: I’ve had this series in my head for a very long time and I am extremely excited to finally start sharing it. Updates will probably be quite sporadic, but I am determined to see this through. Hope you enjoy!

Prologue

In the long hours of the night When hope has abandoned me, I will see the stars and know Your Light Remains. - Chant of Light, Canticle of Trials

Arya Amell's pounding footsteps seemed to echo as she ran across the barren landscape of the fade. Her long, dark hair flew wildly around her, sticking to her face where the tears poured down her cheeks.

The Fade shifted suddenly as her sanctuary came into view. It was just as she had left it last, a bizarre blend of library and garden which could have only existed within the Fade.

Arya drank in the sight, her eyes following the rows upon rows of tall bookshelves which outlined the chamber. A spiral staircase stood opposite her, leading up to a balcony which granted access to the second story of books, as well as an array of plush armchairs. Instead of a ceiling, the room opened up to the swirling colours of the Fade sky above. The centre of the chamber was dominated by a large willow tree, with low twisting branches. A grassy meadow full of wild flowers coated the floor like a carpet, surrounding a large pond on the far side of the room. Books floated haphazardly throughout the room between bookshelves, waiting to be plucked out of the air and read.

She and Eliza had constructed this sanctuary together as children; it was their safe haven, away from the prison of the circle and the fears and uncertainties of a life constantly on the run. Here, they had fantasised about one day meeting, but that could never happen now.

Arya came to an abrupt halt at the thought, fear and despair clawing at her chest. This would be the last time she would see her sanctuary, and it appeared to be empty. If Eliza wasn't here, Arya would never see her cousin again.

"Eliza?" She choked back a sob, "Eliza, w-where are you?"

"Over here Ari!" Eliza called, swinging her way down the spiral staircase, "What's got your knickers in twist, you never call me-" the words died in her throat as her amber eyes met Arya's blue.

"Ari? What happened?!" Eliza was at Arya's side in an instant, far faster than she would have managed outside of the fade. She gripped Arya's upper arm with one hand and tried to brush the tangled mess of hair out of her cousin's face with the other.

"He lied to m-me El, Jowan lied," Arya sobbed.

"What?"

"He's a blood mage El, and I helped him escape."

They had gone into the basement in search of their phylacteries. They had found Jowan's and destroyed it, but Arya's had already been sent to Denerim following her Harrowing. But that didn't matter; Jowan had assured her, he and Lily would help her escape. Maker, she had been such a fool.

"We got caught and he left me behind and they're…they're going to make me tranquil." Arya's knees buckled and she fell to the floor.

"No! They can't!" Eliza gasped, crouching in front of her cousin, pulling her hands away from her face and holding them tightly. "I won't let them… we'll come for you, Bethany, Carver and I, we'll break you out before they can-"

"No! You'll never make it in time El, and then you and Beth will be imprisoned here too, maker knows what they'd do to Carver."

"But-"

"Please, don't make this any worse than this has to be," she whispered.

Eliza pulled her younger cousin against her, wrapping her in her arms. The cousins sat that way for what felt like eternity, clinging to each other, making the most of their last moments together. Arya's sobs echoed through the fade as Hawke stroked her hair.

"They'll coming for me for me soon, I don't have much time." Arya took a deep breath, wiping her face. She looked up at Eliza resolute. "Promise me you won't come looking for me?"

"But-"

"I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you, and I… I don't want you to see me like that. Promise me?"

"I can’t just leave you-“

“Eliza, please.”

Eliza wanted to resist, to argue and fight until she was blue in the face, but the pleading, desperate look in her cousin’s eyes made her falter.

“I…I promise.”

Arya sighed in relief. Trying to muster up a smile, she took Eliza’s face in her hands. "Goodbye El, I love you," she whispered.

"Wait! Not yet, don't g-" But the figure of Arya Amell had already faded away, leaving Eliza Hawke kneeling alone in the fade.

"M-mage Amell?"

Arya knew that voice all too well. A voice that made her heart soar and butterflies flutter in her stomach. Soon, she'd never be able to feel that again. She'd never figure out if it was love or just an adolescent crush. She curled up tighter on the cold hard ground of the room that served as her cell, squeezing her eyes shut, trying to stop the flow of tears.

Maker, not him. Not now.

Footsteps. A pause.

"Arya?"

In spite of herself, she turned to look up in surprise; he'd never used her given name before. Cullen was knelt beside her, uncertainty etched across his face. As their eyes meet, his eyes widened.

"I-I came as soon as I heard, I had to see you before- M-maker, I'm so sorry"

She laughed hollowly as she pulled herself into a sitting position with her back against the wall, hugging her knees to her chest.

"There's nothing to apologise for Cullen," she sniffed, trying to wipe the tears off of her face, unable to look Cullen in the eye. Maker, why couldn't she stop crying? "It's my own fault, I trusted the wrong person and now I'm to be made-" Choking back a sudden sob, she buried her face in her arms.

Tranquil. The word hovered unspoken between them.

She heard the sound of plate hitting the floor before a warm, calloused hand gently grasped her upper arm. She gasped softly at the unexpected contact, before slowly looking up to meet his eye. She felt her heart stop at the look of concern and devastation on his face.

It was the only kindness she had been shown since Jowan's escape. Despite everything, he still trusted her. To him, she wasn't a monster. To him, she was still Arya.

The thought was enough to tip her over the edge again, and somehow she was suddenly in his arms, sobbing hysterically against his chest-plate. Cullen hesitated for just a moment before awkwardly wrapping his arms around her, the sudden urgency of the situation had broken every boundary. He slowly rubbed her back with one hand, stroking her hair with the other. After a while, the sobs started to subside.

"I should have realised," Arya murmured against him.

"You couldn't have known."

Her hands balled into fists against his chest as she looked up, her blue eyes icy. "He was my best friend, my brother, for seven years. We told each other everything! How could he keep that from me? I should have known."

But Cullen still did not pull away, still gazing at her intently. Embarrassed, Arya took a deep breath looked down at her hands, slowly unclenching them.

"Why are you doing this? You should hate me."

"I could never hate you."

She looked up at him again, surprised to find the gentleness and sincerity in his eyes. This was closer than they'd ever been before; she'd never noticed the darker flecks of amber in his golden eyes before. Her heart hammered in her chest. If this was her last chance to feel like this, Maker be damned, she would not waste it. Lips parted, she moved her face closer, and, Maker's breath, he wasn't moving away…

The sudden scraping of the key in the lock of the door broke the trance, and Arya leapt away from her Templar and back against the wall. She would not get him in trouble too.

"Ser Cullen, I thought I'd ordered you to stay in your quarters," Greagoir barked.

"B-but sir-"

"Silence! As I told you in my office, I will not change my mind. You are too close to this situation…this mage." He sneered the words. "You will leave immediately."

Cullen took one last look at Arya. His sorrow evident.

"Now, Cullen."

"I'm sorry, M-mage Amell." Cullen whispered.

Arya could not watch as he walked away from her. She barely noticed as they tied her wrists together and led her away. As if she could try to escape anyway, with them restraining her magic.

Irving stood there in the Harrowing Chamber, waiting for her execution party. He looked at her sadly; his star pupil, reduced to this.

Panic bubbled in her chest. "Irving, please, don't let them do this to me. I could-"

"I'm sorry, child," Maker, why did he have to look so disappointed in her, "This is the only way"

"Mage Arya Amell," Greagoir barked, "You knowingly aided the escape of a blood mage."

"I didn't-"

"Silence! You have proven yourself untrustworthy and a danger to the circle. You will be subjected to the rite of tranquillity, for the safety of yourself and others.”

Arya had finally run out of tears, but couldn't stop herself from shaking uncontrollably.

Greagoir approached her, lifting the lyrium brand to her forehead. “Consider this an act of mercy.”

Arya squeezed her eyes shut and tried to focus on her remaining emotions, savouring each one.

Love. Eliza, her only true family, who’d taught her to climb trees in the Fade, and could make her cry with laughter. Anger. Jowan, her friend, her brother, who had lied and betrayed her, leaving her alone to this fate. Joy. The sneaked glances, smiles and blushes with Cullen in the library. The thrill of their secret chess games in the dead of night. Sadness. There were so many things she’d never experience. So many things she’d never get to feel. Wonder. The rush of magic through her veins as she healed a wound, or brought ice to her fingertips. Fear. What would become of her now? Would any fragment of her remain?

And then Arya Amell felt no more.

#daqueen15 writes #dragon age #fanfic #cullen rutherford #arya amell #female amell #female hawke #tranquility #rite of tranquility #your light remains #series #chapter 1 #prologue #fade #circle tower #angst #eliza hawke

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steampoweredstrawberry · 8 years ago

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Is it too much to ask you all those questions?

*Rubs hands together*

1. Your first OC ever?

I probably had OCs as a kid. Probably a Sailor Moon one or a Harry Potter OC (Most likely had a Harry Potter OC. The only one I can name for certain though was a witch named Caroline with an affinity for fire magic.

2. Do you have a personal favourite among your OCs?

Right now? Claudia Hawke. I love talking about her and drawing her and writing her. Plus, she has a super cute boyfriend who I also love talking about and drawing.

3. Have you ever adopted a character or gotten a character from someone else?

Lol. Yeah. I have a few of @mikagesshoku‘s OCs now. The first was an ancient vampire named Mark (not his real name, but what he goes by in modern times). She liked how I wrote him and characterized him, so he became my son. Her Hawke, Quentin, is also now my Hawke (and Claudia’s big brother). She also prefers how I write her Mahariel.

4. A character you rarely talk about?

Of my DA OCs? Aeducan and Brosca. Nothing against dwarves, I just haven’t fleshed them out very well.

5. If you could make only one of your OCs popular/known, who would it be?

Claudia Hawke. Her being popular and people wanting me to write/draw her would come with the ulterior motive of getting to write/draw Anders.

6. Two OCs of yours that look alike despite not being related?

Claudia Hawke and Elira Bassat. Elira’s a bit taller and her hair is straight, but they’re both sassy, dual-wielding red heads. My old RP buddy actually confused one of my first drawings of Claudia for Elira (Claudia’s since had some cosmetic changes to make them look more different).

7. Are your OCs part of any story or stories?

Yes! I write for Claudia a lot.

You can find her here, here, and here. (Note: All of these contain graphic depictions of sex, so read at your own risk)

8. Do you RP as any of your OCs? If you do, introduce one of your RP OCs here!

Elira Bassat was my OC that I RPed the longest as, but don’t anymore. She’s a sassy, dual-wielding red head, she’s nb, but generally prefers she/her or them/they pronouns (occasionally he/him). She’s also a big fan of vigilante justice.

9. Would you ever be willing to give any of your OCs to someone else?

Hypothetically, yes. I couldn’t name which one, but if their new parent was going to treat them well, I would.

10. Introduce an OC with a complicated design?

I generally try to keep them toned down or believable in appearance. But, there’s Rhyann Tabris, my tiny elf baby with snow-white hair (I say the quickening still effects elves and it made her hair go white as a child). She’s got a billion freckles and carries around a big sword.

11. Is there any OC of yours you could describe as a "sunshine"?

So, an optimist? I don’t know if I have any of those with my DA OCs. Probably Solona Amell. She’s the most likely to keep her chin up and try to cheer up the others.

12. Name an OC that isn't yours but who you like a lot

I absolutely love @kirkwallgirl‘s Jay Hawke and @misterwiggums‘s Mads Hawke. They’re both super cute and love the mage!

13. Do you have any troublemaker OCs?

Claudia Hawke. She’s best friends with Isabela. They get into lots of trouble.

14. Introduce an OC with a tragic backstory

I think of my DA OCs, I think Rhyann Tabris has a very tragic backstory. I relate to it on a personal level, which was why I chose her (they’ve all got super sad backstories, hers just resonates with me).

15. Do you like to talk about your OCs with other people?

YES! Oh my God, if you guys want to ask me about my OCs, please do! I’d love to hear about all of yours, too!

16. Which one of your OCs would be the best at biology (school subject)?

Solona Amell. She’s a healer.

17. Any OC OTPs?

With other OCs? I don’t know. Neria Surana and Solona Amell (as part of a polymance with Jowan, but he’s not my OC). With non OC characters, Claudia Hawke x Anders and Rhyann Tabris x Alistair Theirin.

18. Any OC crackships?

I don’t have any with just OCs. With OC x canon, I’m planning on writing a Claudia Hawke/Karl Thekla/Anders bi polymance in the future. Not really a crack ship (though I guess it is if you HC Karl as being gay; I’m in the he’s bi/pan camp), but I never thought I’d be pairing Claudia up with Karl before the idea struck me.

19. Introduce an OC that means a lot to you (and explain why)

Rhyann Tabris means a lot to me because she was my first OC in a Dragon Age game, my first playthrough, and her origin really resonated with me.

20. Do any of your OCs sing? If they sing, care to share more details (headcanon voice, what kind of songs they like etc)?

Originally, Elira Bassat was a singer and she was supposed to sound a bit like Sara Taylor/Chibi from The Birthday Massacre, but I scrapped that.

Claudia Hawke enjoys singing, but she isn’t particularly good. I imagine she sings a little bit of everything, though I like the idea of her dramatically singing along to Helena by My Chemical Romance.

21. Your most artistic OC

Probably Elira Bassat. She isn’t an artist, but she’s pretty damn good at costume makeup.

22. Is there any OC of yours people tend to mischaracterize? If yes, how?

I don’t think anyone mischaracterizes them.

23. Introduce OC that has changed from your first idea concerning what the character would be like?

Sophie Cousland. I was originally going to romance Alistair with her, but I was too attached to Rhyann x Alistair, so Sophie became Aro/Ace.

24. If you could meet one OC of yours, who would it be and why?

Claudia Hawke, because she’d bring Anders with her.

25. The OC that resembles you the most (same hobby, height, shared like/dislike for something etc?)

Elira Bassat shared my build, height, and hair color at the time (I’m no longer a red head). But, I’ve given Rhyann Tabris a lot of my facial features.

26. Have you ever had to change your OC's design or something else about them against your will?

I’ve renamed OCs in the past. Can’t think of any off the top of my head, though.

27. Any OCs that were inspired by a certain song?

Like, did I base them off a song? I don’t think I have any OCs like that.

28. Your most dangerous OC?

Claudia Hawke or Rhyann Tabris.

29. Which one of your OCs would go investigate an abandoned house at night without telling anyone they're going?

Probably Solona Amell. She wouldn’t want to trouble anyone with her curiosity. Claudia would go too, but half of Kirkwall would know she was going.

30. Which one of your OCs would most likely have a secret stuffed animal collection?

Rhyann Tabris. In a modern AU, she probably saves every stuffed animal Alistair has ever gave her or won her at a carnival and loves them all.

31. Pick one OC of yours and explain what their tumblr blog would be like (what they reblog, layout, anything really)

Solona Amell’s would be a lot of quotes from book, pictures of pretty cups of tea/coffee, plants, and the occasional cute animal. Mostly aesthetic.

32. Which one of your OCs would be the most suitable horror game protagonist and why?

In a survival/horror, Rhyann Tabris because she fits the personality archetype they use for those sorts of games (timid female protagonist).

33. Your shyest OC?

Rhyann Tabris. She’s extremely shy, and tends to avoid most human men until they earn her trust.

34. Do you have any twin characters?

Sophie Cousland has a twin brother named Jarak. He’s a bit flirty, but is overall a good person.

35. Any sibling characters?

Claudia Hawke has an older brother named Quentin. He’s a mage and she’s extremely protective over him.

36. Do you have OC pairs where the other part belongs to someone else (siblings, lovers, friends etc)?

Rhyann Tabris is the cousin of @mikagesshoku‘s Lyna Mahariel and Misali Mahariel. Claudia Hawke is also friends with Lyna.

37. Introduce an OC who is not quite human

All of my elves/dwarves/qunari? I’m in the mood to mention Thaliah Lavellan, though, given she’s a Dalish elf. She also hooks up with a Qunari.

38. Which one of your OCs would be the best dancer?

I say Claudia Hawke is a former ballet dancer in a modern AU. Though, I imagine Sophie and Jarak are pretty light on their feet, given they’re nobles.

39. Introduce any character you want

I’m world building for an original story in some of my free time, and the main character is named Lilika, though she goes by Lily for most of the story. She’s a seer raised by a wlw couple since she was around 10 years old and she’s blind in her right eye.

40. Any fond memories linked to your characters? Feel free to share!

Whenever anyone leaves nice comments/tags on artwork I do of them! I’ve had a couple people comment that Claudia and Rhyann are very pretty, and it makes me so happy (especially with Rhyann because I gave her some of my features that I consider ugly).

41. Has anyone drawn fanart of your OCs? If yes, maybe show a picture or two here (remember sources & permissions!)

I sadly don’t have any pictures on my current phone of it, but my nephew drew Claudia Hawke and one of his characters from the comic books he likes to draw hanging out. It was really cute.

42. Which one of your OCs would be the most interested in Greek gods?

I’m really tempted to say all of them and leaving it at that, but I’d bet money that Neria Surana went through a very intense Greek mythology period of her life.

43. Do you have any certain type when you create your OCs? Do you tend to favour some certain traits or looks? It's time to confess

YES. I like tall girls with red hair and who are also the more dominant partner in a relationship. I’ve been getting better with it. But I do have at least five red heads, most of which are tall, and most of which are the more dominant partner in a relationship.

44. Something you like about your OCs in general

I love them all and how they all have various facets of me. I try to make them all a little bit like me.

45. A character you no longer use?

I used to RP as Nikolai (a vampire) quite regularly, but I haven’t in years.

46. Has anyone ever told you that you treat your OCs badly?

Yes. My old RP buddy used to tell me all the time that I was being mean to our OCs, but in a you’re being mean, but it makes the story so good way.

47. Has anyone ever (friendly) claimed any of your OCs as their child?

The same RP buddy from number 46 did. He’d call our OCs our “children”, so his were my children too.

48. OC who is a perfect cinnamon roll, too good for this world, too pure

Solona Amell. She’s a precious child who deserves love.

49. Which one of your OCs would most likely enjoy memes

Claudia Hawke, Quentin Hawke, Neria Surana, Jarak Cousland, Elira Bassat. Most of them.

50. Give me the good ol' OC talk here. Talk about anything you want

Claudia Hawke and Sophie Cousland are named after characters from The Chipmunk Adventure. Claudia was the name of the villain and Sophie was the name of her dog. Quentin is named after a character from a book and his appearance is based somewhat off the same character.

#yetanotherOCmeme #ask meme #ladyofgreenkirtle

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talesfromthefade · 8 years ago

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Marina Amell x Cullen Rutherford (DA:O Prologue) || angst || SFW || 2489 words

“Jowan, I’m sorry,” she whispers tearfully as the apprentice’s eyes widen in shock, then turn to her with burning fury as the Templars advance on them, Greigor pronouncing a death sentence for ‘the blood mage’ and the Mage’s prison of Aeonar for Chantry Initiate Lily.

“You betrayed us. Betrayed me,” he accuses. “I thought you were my friend. I trusted you.” Marina loses the battle with her tears, as they fall wet and hot down her cheeks.

“I had no choice,” the young woman offers sadly, shaking her head. Irving knew everything, how could she refuse the First Enchanter when he insisted she win the other’s trust, trick him into revealing himself and his plans to escape with Lily in such a way that they could prove the other’s guilt and responsibility in it all?

“I thought you of all people would understand,” he continues and Marina chokes back a loud sob, shaking her head once more. “It’s him, isn’t it? That fucking Templar,” Jowan growls suddenly, hands balling into fists. “Get in good with the First Enchanter and Greigor so they’ll give you privileges and freedoms, make it easier to see him, maybe even turn a blind eye? Was it worth it,” he hisses angrily, snarling like the small, wounded, and cornered creature he is boxed into a corner with Lily by the First Enchanter and several Templars who’d been lying in wait to catch their attempted escape. “Damn you. Damn you all. Maker forgive you for this, Marina, for I never shall,” Jowan vows, pulling an unseen blade from his robes and slashing across his palm before any can make a move to stop him. Blood pools, spatters his robes, then hovers as he casts his spells, a great gust of power crashing into and knocking all those gathered in front of them to their feet. Lily is crying, backing away from Jowan, clearly horrified and in as much shock as Marina that the other would resort to such evils.

Jowan sputters excuses, wanting to be a better, more powerful mage, to prove himself, that he intended to give it all up for her, but Lily backs herself into the nearest corner, cowering in fear, forcing Jowan to turn tail and run before the Templars can collect themselves and give chase. Marina rushes over to the First Enchanter, carefully helping a grateful Irving to his feet, before cautiously approaching Greigor with him who immediately rejects both their help. Dusting himself off he quickly orders two Templars to collect Lily and ‘get her out of his sight’ before turning his attention back to the Circle’s newest Enchanter and First Enchanter Irving. Greigor spouts something about Irving being irresponsible in the way he chose to handle the situation, of not being able to trust Marina’s loyalty to the Circle or even her own mind after spending time in the company of a blood mage.

Marina for her part, only dimly registers what is being said, searching the gathered Templars while the two older men argue until her gaze alights on a familiar form, as the Templar takes off his battered helmet to reveal tight blonde curls. She cannot afford for her attention to linger on him, even if half the Circle- mages and Templars alike seem to relish whispering about the two of them. She is momentarily relieved, however, and lets go of a breath she had not even realized she was holding when she observes that besides having the wind knocked out of him by Jowan’s spell, he seems no worse for wear.

The Grey Warden, Duncan, she met and escorted to the guest rooms of the tower approaches, just as the Knight-Commander is winding up, and suggesting at the very least there will need to be a full-inquiry into the events that have transpired and allowed a dangerous mage to escape their grasp. Suggesting that there are greater concerns and more powerful forces at work, the Warden offers to recruit Marina not only to fight for the King at Ostagar, but to press her into the service of the Wardens themselves instead. Greigor blusters, but Irving’s lack of reaction is far more telling. He expected this, perhaps even desired as much for her from the start, Marina thinks watching him as Duncan continues to argue with the Knight-Commander. Two years ago, had she been presented with any reason or opportunity to escape the tower and the Circle, she might have jumped at the chance. Marina doesn’t fool herself in thinking that her life is as bad as some of her fellows, and the tower is the only home she has known for most of her life having demonstrated magical potential and been snatched away from her family by the Templars at a very tender age, but that hasn’t stopped her from seeing it for the gilded cage that it is. Two years ago, the chance for such freedom, to prove herself like this, and with such a distinguished order as the Wardens, would have been a kindness. It still is, she supposes, there are plenty within this very tower who would jump at the chance, kill to be in her shoes.

But she can feel wide, sad, amber eyes trained on her without even looking up to meet them. Irving and Duncan pose it as a question, make it sound as though she has a choice, while Greigor makes it all too clear he won’t grant her the same patience and courtesy now she has cost him an initiate and caused his order to lose track of a potentially dangerous blood mage. Life in the Circle will not be what it was before if she remains here. The thought of leaving makes a cavity of the place in her chest where her heart should beat, but can she really stay knowing full well the Knight-Commander will always be watching, never trusting, and never allow her so much as a stolen moment of conversation with him again?

No. She’d rather die, and Cullen would be better served to move on- better able to keep his promises to the Templars without her near. And to die a free mage, to die fighting for her country and countrymen, for the hope that one day her fellows might not fear- might even respect and treat her kind as equals- it isn’t such a terrible fate, she thinks. She swallows hard, gathering her courage and finding her voice again, before confirming that it would be an honor to join Duncan and his order in their fight against the Darkspawn, while doing her best to avoid the young Templar’s gaze.

There is little need for her to take anything with her. Even less that the Enchanter actually possesses, but Duncan manages to lead her quietly away from a still arguing Irving and Greigor before turning her loose with a sympathetic expression that rather hurts to look on, and the excuse of collecting her things, so that she might say her goodbyes. There’s nothing in her room, save for a mostly empty trunk with her old apprentice robes and staff and a journal containing notes from her various studies. She’s not even slept in the bed yet, sheets and quilt untouched, having only moved in this afternoon after passing her Harrowing and being promoted to the Senior Mage’s quarters. Still she stands there for an unaccountably long time at war with herself, one foot towards the door, the other the bed, irrevocably torn.

She wants to see him. Wants to say goodbye. That can only be what Duncan had intended in giving her this time before they leave. But… what is there to say? What can they do, but stand to hurt one another further? A goodbye might put some of her heartache at ease, but Marina doesn’t for a moment allow herself to believe it might cure it, and what might such a thing do to Cullen? Can she really be that selfish?

She’s resolved herself to go and find Duncan again so that they might leave when the door creaks on its hinges as it’s gently pushed open, as the familiar clinking of armored boots against stone floor follow after. Once again choice has been taken away from her. But at least, for better or for worse, the choice was his and not someone else’s on their behalf, the young woman thinks, slowly lifting her head, turning electric blue eyes up to meet his. Maker, but the pain of his gaze, of knowing what follows is beyond anything she has ever felt.

“My lady,” he says softly, bowing his head to her in greeting, carefully checking for any watchful eyes or ears- Templar or mage, before pulling the door shut behind him to grant them a moment’s respite and privacy. Marina smiles softly, just as she always has at his use of the title, before her eyes cast down to the floor, finding it too painful yet to look at him for long. It has no meaning here. Her family name too, worthless from the moment she accidentally cast her first spell. A child, barely more than eight, and a stupid tantrum because she was too young to go play with the older children like her siblings Leandra and Gamlen. Still, when he calls her such, for a moment she feels like a lady, can pretend that she is one, that she is anywhere but here, that they are anyone but themselves, two people who can love and be together without the odds and the whole world seemingly stacked against them.

She thinks briefly of Anders. Of her friend’s many escape attempts. Of his most recent one after Enchanter Karl was assigned and relocated to the Circle in Kirkwall. Of the lover’s whispered promises to each other in the dark the night before they’d been split up. ‘Ten years, a hundred years from now… Someone like me will love someone like you, and there will be no Templars to tear them apart.’ She hopes Anders managed to find and free them both, that the Templars never catch them. That they might find the happiness it seems she and Cullen are never meant to. A good Andrastian would probably say that there is a point to all of it, a grand design. Cullen seems to have such faith, but if Marina Amell ever did, it has long since waned. She sees no beauty, no higher purpose in all of this, only pain.

“My brave knight,” Marina returns softly with a tearful half-smile, still staring at a particular stone on the floor at her feet as he crosses the room to stop in front of her, one gauntleted hand slowly and with infinite care reaching out, and lifting her chin, drawing her eyes back up to his, before cupping her cheek, cool gleaming metal caressing her pale, freckled skin, fingertips weaving gently into her soft blonde locks. They are a breath away from each other. Closer than they have ever been permitted or managed before. And somehow, he already feels farther away, more out of reach than he has ever been to her. Slowly and with the same kind of infinite care the mage lets her hand reach out for him, fingers to caress his jaw, a warm palm to flatten against his cheek, relishing the slight rasp of barely there evening stubble.

“M-Marina, I… “Cullen whispers softly, frowning a little when the words won’t come. But what is there to say? So much, and yet so little will do either any good now.

“It will be alright,” she soothes softly, her other arm wrapping carefully around his waist to keep him close as she allows her forehead to press, melt against his own. “I will be alright,” she promises, though she knows as well as he does it is not a promise she can truthfully hope to keep, certainly not forever, or with the path that has been laid out for her future. “All is as the Maker wills it,” she whispers softly, hoping against hope the words will be of greater comfort to him than they are to her, even as he draws in a shallow and shaky breath against her, arms dropping to her waist to pull her as tight against his chest as his armor will allow for without hurting her. It is such a little thing. Far too little, but it must be enough. This moment all they will ever have.

He starts to try and speak again, no more successful than his previous attempt as she carefully places a finger over his lips to stop him, then slowly removes it, chasing his mouth with her own. It is a gentle kiss. Tentative. Chaste, but full of the utmost tenderness and fondness for one another. The first they have ever shared. The only one they shall ever share. She takes her time with it, they both do, all the time they can afford. Hands grapple with one another’s hips through armor and clothes, but not to grope, merely to reassure themselves that the other is there, to anchor themselves to one another, to this stolen, all too fleeting moment of happiness before it is taken from them. Please, she thinks perhaps a bit desperately because she knows she cannot bring herself to speak the words aloud, cannot bear the thought of shattering this moment with a reminder of the loss and pain that will swiftly follow it, be safe, be happy.

Duncan knocks, then enters, and he must know, even as she manages to straighten herself up and Cullen has backed away to a more respectable distance, but the older man only looks sympathetic, and says nothing, only asking if she is ready. She is not. But, Marina thinks sadly, sparing the other man a sidelong and mournful glance, she is unlikely to ever be more ready than she is now. She nods to Duncan, taking her better staff in hand, tucking her notebook into the small pouch at her belt. She gives the room one last parting glance, considering before snatching a small square of cloth from the top of her trunk. A handkerchief. Poorly stitched, from when her mother had been trying to teach her the finer points of embroidery. The only thing she was able to keep from her life before- a life before magic or the Circle, a life where they might have been afforded better, more than this. She crosses the room once more, and hugs him tight, kissing his cheek, before tucking the small token into his hands with a sad smile, and follows Duncan out of the room and back to the waiting boat that will carry her across the lake and to the destiny that awaits her far to the South.

#marina amell #cullen rutherford #cullen x warden #cullen x amell #dragon age #dragon age: origins #tales:marina #da:o

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deedeemactir · 2 years ago

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This Jowan/Lily post-DA2 fic is going to be my magnum opus

#jowan dragon age #lily dragon age #jowan x lily #justice for jowan #my boy deserves some happiness

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halfbloodsnowy · 2 years ago

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Chapter 17: Knight-Captain

9:37 - DRAGON - The day of the Chantry Explosion in Kirkwall

Ruvena nudged Cullen, "Don't make it obvious, but look over there."

He waited with an awkward faux glance around while scratching the back of his neck before gazing sideways out of the armory's window.

"Oh that wasn't obvious at all…" Ruvena joked.

Ignoring her, he groaned inwardly at the sight of Meredith throwing yet another fit in the courtyard.

"Not this again," he murmured.

Her unintelligible streams of profanity and apoplectic rage were directed, unsurprisingly, at yet another raw recruit. The spit flying out of her mouth coated the poor boy's face so thoroughly Cullen marveled at how he could remain facing her with his eyes wide open.

She suddenly backhanded the boy, kicking him down for good measure before storming away.

"Maker's mercy…"

"She's losing it I tell yah," Ruvena whispered in a sing-song voice that tapered off into a cackle. Cullen wondered if she was capable of any sort of empathy at all.

"It's been stressful, with the Circles," he snapped back, pinching the bridge of his nose to try and stem the headache he felt coming on, "but she shouldn't abuse the initiates. I'll need to…" he trailed off, looking up. The situation had been threatening to boil over for years, and with Knight-Commander Meredith and First Enchanter Orsino clawing at each other's necks on a daily basis, it was becoming harder and harder for Cullen to help maintain the peace between the templars and mages of Kirkwall.

"I'll need to speak with her," he finished dumbly, and Ruvena huffed as she fastened the last clasp on her armor.

One side fought ruthlessly for the maintenance and control of the mages while the latter accused them of oppression and needless suspicion. Cullen knew there was truth to both sides, and it was only a matter of time before he'd have to step in and report them both to the Divine.

Magic exists to serve man, never to rule over him, he thought, but that didn't mean they had to treat the mages like beasts. A firm hand did not have to be inhumane, and no matter how he personally felt about mages or the fact he had once taken comfort in Knight-Commander Meredith's firm hand with the Circle, he knew she was now crossing lines that shouldn't be crossed.

Ruvena shook her head and sheathed her sword, oblivious to Cullen's turmoil, "I can't believe she has us spying on that Amell woman again, or is it Hawke? I can't bloody remember."

"Hawke," said Cullen, glad to be distracted from his miserable thoughts. He knew Ruvena was only pretending to be confused, on account of her rabid hatred of nobility, because everyone in Kirkwall knew who the Champion was. Hawke had saved them from a Qunari invasion, earning quite the reputation for herself and her lucky compatriots. Combined with her other socially questionable associations, it was likely there wasn't a single soul in Kirkwall and possibly the borders of Ferelden who didn't know who she was.

"Though I suppose she's the last real representative of the Amell family now, considering what happened with her mother," Cullen added, shaking his head, "what a sad way for the Amells to go, Maker rest her soul."

"Fucking blood mages," Ruvena grumbled, and then spat out the window. Sometimes Cullen was a bit taken aback by how gruff she was, though there was a bit of charm to it, if he thought about it long enough.

"Let's go and get this over with," he sighed, and they both left the garrison, careful to avoid bumping into Knight-Commander Meredith.

Cullen did not want to spy on Hawke again. He let Ruvena know as much, he hated seeing her up close. Talking with her strained him, and he had only reluctantly agreed to work with her out of necessity. Even though she carried the name Hawke, her face was just a little too similar to an Amell he once knew, and the way she laughed always sent a cold pang of longing through his heart.

Why must she sound so much like… her?

He grimaced, the dread of old memories flooding into him.

The memories always came at the worst times, things as simple as walking through the market and seeing a flash of dark curls, or catching the scent of rose, and her face would slam right back into his mind as if he had just seen her.

He could see it all, her smile, the way she furrowed her brow while she studied, and then he would remember the sway of her hips as she walked through the halls.

He balled his armored hand into a fist, he felt his face flush and he hated himself. Knowing a mage had once caused him to stray was humiliating, and then of course, he felt his chest tighten with old fear.

A demon had tormented him, sent by Uldred with her face to try and seduce him to their side. But try as it might, the demon had failed. He hadn't broken. He survived the massacre when so many of his friends had not. Was it the timely intervention of the Grey Wardens? Or did he have some superhuman will that the other templars seemed to lack? Deep down he knew he was just lucky. A teenaged recruit that even Uldred hadn't thought much of, and so he was forgotten, left for last because he didn't matter enough to worry about.

His skin prickled at the memory of Uldred, the Senior Enchanter turned blood mage had attempted to use the chaos of the fifth blight to wrangle control of Kinloch Hold for himself, possessing templars and mages alike. Cullen often wondered how successful the demon might've been in swaying him if he hadn't parted with Amell on such horrific terms. With every sweet word out of the demon's mouth, he remembered Amell's face, the look of betrayal directed squarely at him.

It was only after the weeks of torture he had endured at the hands of Uldred and his demon that he had stopped mourning the loss of Kena. She shouldn't have helped Jowan, it didn't matter that she didn't know he was a maleficar. They had rules for a reason, that much was proven quite clearly the day Jowan escaped.

Magic was dangerous, and he was a fool for believing mages were harmless.

So it was with an unfortunate situation that whenever he spoke with Hawke he always dreamt of her, which meant he remembered the demon. It was a tiring competition between desire and fear and he found himself resenting Hawke for forcing the memories to return, but he swallowed his feelings, and was cordial. Just as he was raised to be.

Involuntarily gulping as they approached the Hightown road Amell Manor was on, Cullen found himself agitated and in a foul mood, as usual when sent on these spying expeditions.

"You look sweaty," Ruvena laughed, and she pulled a twig of embrium from her pocket, holding it out to Cullen, "chew on this before you keel over."

Cullen was distracted, and refused. Ruvena shrugged, biting on the twig herself, "Why are you so afraid of Hawke?"

"Wh-what?" he stuttered, and they began patrolling the street, trying to pretend they weren't spying.

"I am not afraid," he finally spat.

"You are, you always end up sweaty and bothered after you speak with her," she teased, and then she suddenly gasped.

"What?!" Cullen hissed, looking around, but Ruvena had a smirk on her face.

"You like her don't you?" she cooed, poking at his side, and Cullen's face flushed red.

"I absolutely do not, Maker! Ruvena, how could you say that?" he whispered, insulted at her insinuations. He most definitely did not have feelings for Hawke, the woman was obnoxious, crude and always smelled of sweat and blood.

She was, in all honesty, a bit repulsive to him.

But because of the few traits that reminded him of… her, he couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. He knew he could never explain any of this to Ruvena without opening up a vat of worms he did not want to deal with.

"Oh, don't mind me, it's not like I've been sleeping with you for the last two years," she had a playful look on her face, as if she enjoyed the sight of Cullen bothered a little too much, "you dream about an Amell you know. I hear you moaning her name in your sleep sometimes, usually after we see Hawke."

"You what?!" Cullen hissed.

"Oh Kena… Amell…. Ohhhhhhh," Ruvena threw her head back and cackled, thoroughly enjoying the mortified expression on Cullen's face.

He nearly tripped on a loose flagstone and coughed, he hadn't realized he spoke in his sleep, and he felt very angry that Ruvena hadn't mentioned it before, "You… you…" his face was uncomfortably hot.

"Oh come on, you can tell me," she said, nudging him in the side, "what happened at that Circle in Ferelden? You wouldn't be the first templar to mess around with a mage."

"Maker, stop Ruvena," Cullen groaned, turning fifty shades of red and trying his hardest to remain calm.

"Oh come on!" she exclaimed, "We're pals aren't we? Just tell me, I swear I won't spread it around."

"Pals?" he said, suddenly annoyed at the reminder of their strange dynamic, "We've been going out for two years, I'd say that's a bit more than just pals Ruvena, and I'd like it if you would be a bit understanding--."

Ruvena laughed and slapped him on the shoulder, "Maker you're a comedian, you know that?"

Cullen didn't laugh, "Why am I a comedian?"

She stopped chuckling and wiped a tear from her eye. When she finally looked up at Cullen, her face went serious, "Wait…" she stopped in her tracks and shook her head, "you mean to tell me… you thought we--"

"Well, I know it's been two years, usually in Ferelden we marry much sooner. I just thought that in Kirkwall the women like to take their time--"

"Wait, marry? I'm sorry, what?" she scoffed and blinked in confusion, "Damn it all Cullen, sleeping with someone and having a relationship are two very different things!"

Cullen, once again, felt very stupid and nervously massaged his temple, "I… I thought you were happy with our arrangement."

"Yeah…" she trailed off, "but I never said our arrangement was anything more than… what it's been."

He wrinkled his brow at Ruvena, unsure how to answer. He hadn't actually had a conversation with Ruvena about their relationship, he just sort of assumed it was one. He had written off all the strangeness as just another facet of the socially liberated culture of the Free Marchers he didn't quite understand. Though he did wonder why Ruvena insisted they keep their relationship secret.

And then he bit his lip, suddenly quite aware of his own Ferelden stupidity.

"I…" Cullen began, but he sighed, too flustered to think about it further, "can we not do this in public? Perhaps later?"

If there was one thing he was an expert at, it was avoiding conversations that made him uncomfortable.

Ruvena shrugged and walked under the shade of a balcony, leaning against a filigree stone pillar and staring straight at the Amell manor's front door.

"Maker, she'll know you're spying," Cullen argued, trying to look inconspicuous.

"Come off it," Ruvena said, crossing her arms and chewing her embrium loudly. She seemed bothered now, and he dreaded what their later conversation would entail.

He hadn't seen her so agitated before.

"As if the precious Champion of Kirkwall doesn't already know we're spying," she said, venom thick in her voice. She tilted her chin upward toward the manor with a laugh. Cullen followed her gaze and met the baubled eyed stare of an elven servant staring out of Hawke's bedroom window.

Cullen quickly turned around and cursed under his breath.

"Told you they knew we were spying, Meredith really is a fool," Ruvena grumbled.

Cullen looked back, and the elf was gone, but the Mabari was now panting at them from the second floor window, and it all felt so absolutely ridiculous that they were even there.

"We should just leave," he began, but Ruvena shook her head.

"No, we'll plant our butts here until something interesting happens or the night hits," she scratched at a scab on her chin and continued her shameless staring at Hawke's front door.

Cullen swallowed and futilely tried to remain inconspicuous, though he knew there was really no point anymore.

He had nearly dozed off while standing when he felt Ruvena's armored elbow clang into the side of his breast plate.

"Look!" she whispered excitedly.

Hawke's apostate companion, Anders, stormed out of the manor. The black feathers of his robe fluttered obnoxiously with every step.

Cullen was baffled at how the mage could so wantonly try and announce his apostasy to the templars in Kirkwall, and he figured it was some form of arrogance. It was no secret they had been hunting him for months. The rumored do-gooder apostate who used his abilities to heal the poor in Darktown was nearly as famous as the Champion.

And once Anders had attached himself to the Champion of Kirkwall, well, none of that mattered anymore. Anders had become untouchable.

It sounded nice on paper of course, an apostate with a heart of gold, but Cullen knew better. If only the common folk understood the dangers of magic, had seen what he had seen, they wouldn't have so wantonly harbored an apostate.

Cullen felt that Anders had begun throwing his untouchable status in their faces, knowing full well that to harass the healer of Darktown, and the friend of the Champion, would only bring the ire and hatred of Kirkwall's denizens even harder onto the Order.

They're waning popularity was already something they were struggling to contain, so even Meredith had allowed them to look the other way when it came to Anders.

But she hadn't given up on trying to catch him in the act of something sinister. Something even the "common fools" couldn't turn their back on, as Meredith had mused on many occasions.

Cullen angrily watched the apostate, strutting about Hightown as if he owned the place when suddenly, for a moment, he was certain he saw the man's eyes glow blue.

Anders stopped in his tracks and leaned onto the wall, slamming his hand over his brow and muttering to himself. His body was tense, as if he were in a great amount of pain.

"Did you…" Cullen whispered, shocked, "see that?"

Ruvena stopped chewing on her embrium and met Cullen's gaze, "I sure did…"

Anders suddenly stood upright, slightly adjusting his collar and flashing a strained smile at a passing noblewoman before he was strutting off as normal. Only the Maker knew what he had planned, but there was no denying something wasn't right about him now.

Cullen furrowed his brow, "We should let Meredith know, if he's an abomination--"

Ruvena spat the chewed embrium onto the ground, "Not even Hawke can protect him from that. I can't believe we actually spied something useful," stomping away, Ruvena seemed to be in a rather cheerful mood suddenly.

But Cullen felt uneasy. Something was off. The day was coming to an end but he was suddenly very much awake. There were clouds rolling into the sky and a sourness in the air that was probably all just in his head, and though he knew it didn't make sense, Cullen felt something evil was coming.

His stomach twisted into knots at the thought.

"Come on!" Ruvena called over her shoulder, and he jogged after her, praying to the Maker that he was wrong.

**********

Galel sprinkled the herbs in a massive circle around Kena. She was stripped down to her underclothes and laying on her back with her feet just near the lower edge of the circle.

"Dagger," he said, holding his hand out for the blade. Jowan coated it in deep mushroom paste and placed the hilt in Galel's hand.

He noticed the sweat dripping into his friend's eyes. If Galel was this nervous, how safe could the ritual really be?

Jowan looked warily at Kena, "It's going to hurt," he warned, "are you sure you're ok with this?"

Kena's eyes were squeezed shut, and she frowned. Jowan knew she was afraid of what would come next. The rapid rise and fall of her chest signaled as much, but she silently gave him a thumbs up and dropped her arm back to her side. Jowan knew by her expression he shouldn't press the issue further.

"The first one now," Galel said softly to Kena. He placed the tip of his dagger on her chest, and in a swift motion carved a swirling symbol, the blood slid down her side and pooled beneath her. Jowan looked at her, searching for any sign of distress, but her face was expressionless.

He wiped the sweat from his brow, her reaction was unnatural, and now that the ritual was underway he wasn't sure he was making the right decision by helping.

Maker guide me.

Kena knew the pain was there, but it felt far away. She couldn't remember when, but there had been a point during the numerous torture sessions at Aeonar that she had learned to stop feeling pain like this. Cuts, and pricks didn't hurt if she didn't want them to. She felt Galel's dagger digging into her flesh like a distant nuisance.

"The second one," he said, and he began carving into her thigh, "now the third," and then her arm. He announced each move before he made it, and he worked quickly. Carving the symbols all over her skin with gentle, quick precision. Unlike the templars at Aeonar, his movements were calming, and in an odd way she felt relaxed. Pampered even.

"Done," he finally breathed, and Kena risked opening her eyes, peeking down at herself.

"That's a lot of blood," she mused, looking at Galel's sweat drenched face, he seemed more nervous than her.

"You'll feel better, once the ritual is done," he said, and held the dagger out to Jowan, "place the same symbols on me, in the same way."

Jowan's hands were shaking, but once he took the bloodied dagger, something in his expression changed, and he seemed calm.

Galel laid out on his back, head to head with Kena.

"Galel?" she whispered.

"Yes?"

Kena turned to face him, and their noses were nearly touching.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Galel swallowed, his voice caught in his throat for a moment.

"You... you have to lay still," he finally croaked, and he returned his gaze to the sky, "save your thanks for after, if this works."

"I know it will," said Kena, and she relaxed into the earth, her eyes closed.

Jowan placed the tip of the dagger on Galel's chest a little roughly, "Ready?" he said, and Galel detected a bit of venom in his voice.

Galel grabbed Jowan's hand, and made eye contact with him, "Are you ok Jowan?"

Jowan seemed to suddenly realize his behavior, and cleared his throat, "I… yes I am," his gaze darted to Kena quickly, before it returned to Galel, "I'm ready."

The elf wasn't sure what to make of Jowan's mood, but he knew there was no point in dwelling on it now, he'd speak with Jowan later.

"Go ahead," Galel said, and Jowan began to carve.

He had to bite his tongue to keep from yelping, the pain was intense. His hands were balled into fists as Jowan cut the symbols into his skin. Unlike Kena, he clearly felt every bit of it.

Kena seemed positively blissful, laying in her own blood, and Galel was both impressed and horrified at how easily she accepted pain.

From the way Jowan had described her, it seemed that Aeonar had changed her deeply. This was no timid, scared mage. She was cold, and she could endure much more than he was led to believe.

This had better work…

**********

"Done," gasped Jowan, relieved to be finished with cutting at Galel's body. "It's time now."

"Let's do it already!" said Kena, excitement in her voice.

Jowan stood up, and held the dagger to his right hand, above Kena and Galel's faces, "Maker help us all."

He sliced his palm in a quick, swift motion. The sensation was familiar, and he immediately felt the electric whips of power in his blood. His skin prickled, and his face flushed.

He had missed the feeling.

He took a deep breath, and whirled his hands above his head, building his speed until he looked like the fire dancers of Rivain. A whorling mist of blood and herbs rose into the air, and the bloody symbols on Galel and Kena's skin began to bubble and burn like hot coals.

Kena finally winced in pain, and Galel yelled out.

Jowan suddenly wanted to stop, subconsciously slowing his movements.

"Keep going!" screamed Galel, "You can't stop now!"

Jowan steeled himself, and ramped up speed until the symbols peeled off their skin. They danced, intertwining in a vortex above them. Jowan could feel warm specks of their blood splattering him on the face.

It felt like hot grease on his skin, and pulled at him, the blood reacting to his power imbued him with a frenzied sense of invincibility. He began to remember why he had been drawn to this type of magic all those years ago. He enjoyed the feeling of power blood gave him, the way it made his heart race and flutter the way it did when he first kissed Lily.

He reveled in it.

And then Lily's disappointed face flitted into his mind, and he nearly lost focus.

Remember why you're doing this…

He began to tie the symbols together, "Like tying knots in a string," Galel had explained to him. Each glowing bloody symbol began to twist, braid and form an ethereal rope in the air above them. Jowan was channeling the power in their blood. It was intoxicating, mind bending, and he was spinning the ethereal rope until it was a blurred ring of flame whistling above them.

And then it froze in place, and for a moment, Jowan thought he must've made a mistake. The bloody mist slammed to the ground around Galel and Kena and he felt utterly drained.

"Did it work?" he wheezed, the emptiness the blood magic had left in his chest was equally exhausting as it was heartbreaking, and he wiped his watery eyes on his shoulder before bending over and resting his hands on his knees.

Galel and Kena sat up, the symbols replaced by slight, silvery, scars.

Kena stood up and examined herself, "I feel good," she said, looking up at Jowan, "my mind is finally... quiet."

Galel rose to his feet and swayed, Kena reached out to help steady him, and he smiled at her, resting his hand on her forearm, "It worked."

"How can you tell for sure?" said Jowan, cleaning the dagger off.

"We're connected now, I can feel it," said Galel, blinking as if he had a headache, "she'll be hidden behind me, in the fade. They won't be able to sense her as long as we stay close to one another."

"How close?" Kena asked, grabbing her clothes and pulling them on.

"A few miles, maybe more or less," Galel slowly bent over to pick up his tunic and winced, his hand darting to his temple. He rubbed it for a moment before gingerly pulling his clothing on.

"Are you alright?" Jowan asked, but Galel waved him off.

"I'm fine. The ritual… it was exhausting," he said, and then forced a smile.

Something in his expression seemed off to Jowan, but he didn't want to press it further.

"Kena, are you alright?" Jowan asked, pivoting toward his friend, "No… lingering strangeness?"

Amell shrugged, "No, I actually feel pretty damn good."

She jumped up and down and stretched, "Barely any aches and pains."

Jowan felt like Kena seemed to be acting a bit like her old self, but it had only been minutes since the ritual was complete. And he wasn't sure if it was just wishful thinking.

Kena laced her boots and looked at him, "You should find Lily, it'll be dark soon."

Jowan handed the dagger back to Galel, "Right."

Kena stared at him for a moment, and he was so grateful she was looking at him without a look of hatred that he couldn't pull himself to move away, and then she finally offered a weak smile, "Thank you, Jowan."

Jowan smiled so hard he was sure he pulled a muscle in his neck, but he couldn't help it, seeing her smile, at him, after all these years beating himself up for what he had done. He felt a renewed burst of energy, and ran over to hug her.

She was stiff, and didn't hug him back, but at least she wasn't trying to force him away.

"Thank you Maker," he thought, " I'll never screw this up again."

**********

Cullen and Ruvena reached the Gallows quickly, but it was already getting dark and templars were storming about the courtyard in a panic.

Cullen grabbed a young recruit rushing past him, but he was shoved off. The young recruit spun to face him and went pale when he realized he had just shoved the Knight-Captain.

"Maker, oh, shit…" the recruit saluted Cullen, "Knight-Commander Meredith says we must prepare to capture blood mages, she stormed out of here after Orsino, he was heading for the Chantry to protest."

"Protest what man?!" Cullen yelled, grabbing the recruit by the neck of his breastplate and yanking him forward.

"We're going to search the mages quarters!" the recruit yelled, fear in his eyes, and Cullen felt instantly guilty for losing his temper.

He groaned in frustration and released the young recruit.

"She can't do that without the permission of First Enchanter Orsino and the Grand Cler--"

"She's finally lost it!" Ruvena exclaimed, "The paranoid bitch!"

"Ruvena!" Cullen yelled, "You will not speak of the Knight-Commander that way!"

Cullen turned back to the recruit and sighed, "Until I've confirmed--"

There was a sudden rumble, and the templars, vendors and civilians milling about the Gallows all paused.

The pressure in the air plummeted, and the sick feeling in Cullen's gut turned into a storm in his insides.

"Cullen…" hissed Ruvena, "what is--"

An ear splitting whistle cut through the air.

A red beam shot straight up into the sky, a cloud of smoke and dust cascading upward into the air behind it.

"Everyone take cover!" Cullen yelled, "Ruvena!"

"On it," she yelled back, jumping into action and ushering civilians and recruits toward the cover of the balconies. The beam continued to burn in the sky as stone, and dust and whatever it was crawled up along the beam into the sky, swirling into a cloud of fast moving refuse.

And then there was a boom that nearly threw Cullen off his feet.

He barely managed to yank a merchant and his son behind a pillar as a thick wave of dust and smoke slammed into them. It was only a moment, his skin stinging from the wave, and when he opened his eyes, all was white, and deathly silent.

"Cullen?" came Ruvena's voice emerged from the cloud and then she coughed, her blond head popping out of the miasma and wiping dust from her eyes.

"Maker, are you alright?" he said, rushing over to make sure she wasn't injured.

Ruvena swatted him away and examined the mess, "Maker's balls, what just happened?"

As the confused cries and panic began to spring from the denizens of the Gallows, Cullen took in a deep breath, and steeled himself.

It was mages, of that he was certain, and unlike the massacre at Kinloch Hold, he would make sure he protected his friends this time.

"Gather the senior templars, there will be a battle tonight," he commanded, looking squarely at Ruvena.

Ruvena crossed her arms across her chest and bowed low, her earlier perturbed expression replaced with deep lines of worry. As soon as she rose, she began commanding the others, and rounding the civilians.

Cullen breathed out, he hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath. He felt his mind slipping, he didn't know how much longer he could cling on.

He was suddenly aware of a clinking sound, and he looked down to see his hands shaking. He balled his hands into fists and stumbled backward, blindly, barely managing to find a secluded area under the balcony where he collapsed against a pillar, shaking and sweating and barely able to breathe.

The smell of destruction, the screams, and the look of terror on the recruit's faces were bringing back the memories he had thought were behind him. He tried to suck in a breath, but felt suffocated and grasped at his breastplate in a futile attempt to rip it off. He was shaking badly, his armored fingers clumsy and lost, against his own neck and his vision was blurred with tears.

Uldred's face flitted at him, and he slammed his eyes shut.

Stop, please… not now!

The depravities of the senior enchanter came back full force, he hadn't had an attack this bad in years.

And then he heard a woman's voice in his ear and he spun around with a yelp. An image of her face slammed into his mind, and he was once again back in Ferelden's Circle Tower. The demon with her face cackling in his mind like a sick joke.

"Enough!" he cried out, waves of negation bursting off him.

And then his mind cleared, and he looked around, breathing a sigh of relief that no one had seen his little tumble down the rabbit hole. He gritted his teeth and clambered back to his feet, the echoes and memories fading into an annoying whisper. His head was pounding, the blood rushing in his ears so hard he couldn't hear.

He began muttering the Benedictions to himself, the way he was told to do after his ordeal:

"Blessed are they who stand before

The corrupt and the wicked and do not falter.

Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just."

He felt his heart calm and he breathed out, the dizziness waning. He tried to focus on how heavy his armor was, and on the smell of ash and fire filling the air:

"Blessed are they who stand before

The corrupt and the wicked and do not falter.

Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just."

He took in a deep breath, and left the safety of the pillar. This was no time to fall apart. Kirkwall needed him:

"Blessed are they who stand before

The corrupt and the wicked and do not falter.

Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just."

The screaming of a commoner nearly sent him reeling again, but he bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood, and he kept reciting.

And reciting.

And reciting until all he could hear or think was the Chant. Andraste would save them, the way she had saved him all those years ago.

Cullen Rutherford hadn't clawed his way out of Ferelden, suffered humiliations at Meredith's hands and earned himself the title of Knight-Captain just to fall apart because of bad memories.

He took a deep breath, and steeled himself.

"Knight-Captain! There are reports of apostates at the Docks! The Champion is with them!" a young recruit screamed.

Cullen clasped the young man on the shoulder, "Do not falter! We must secure the Gallows first, the Docks can wait until later!"

The recruit nodded, relieved to have orders, and Cullen shoved him on his way.

"Maker help us all," he whispered to himself.

#dragon age fanfiction #cullen rutherford #read at your own risk #all warnings apply just in case #fanfiction #jowan #jowan x lily #amell

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