#justinia

[leliwardens]

idc if its cut content lady mantillon being connected to justinia is REAL to ME. it's hilarious there's like six specific french gay women in various degrees of situationships with each other being the root cause of the messiest dyke drama for the past several decades and making it EVERYONE'S problem.

and two of them can be the pope.

[whiterosemarie]

The latest art work. 25+ hrs. Based on a fanfiction that's being written between myself and a friend.

[illusivesoul]

A Divine's Hand

A short Leliana/Justinia fic.

Ratings: Mature

Words: 1596

Summary: The Inquisitor asks about Justinia. Leliana remembers.

Tags: Power Imbalance - Implied Sexual Content - Angst - Grief/Mourning - Anger - POV Multiple -Memories -Regret

Read it on AO3

.

Leliana noticed the subtle smirk of the Inquisitor’s lips after she asked the question, and the cold she felt from her words had nothing to do with the snow that fell all around them. Trevelyan was a noble, and the way she had spoken made it clear that she was no stranger to the whirlwind of rumours that had surrounded Leliana during the years she had served at the Divine’s side. Only those who presumed to know the truth before asking asked things in the way the inquisitor had. 

“You’re asking if we were lovers. Typical. I was devoted to her, therefore it must be romantic” the spymaster replied, unable and not caring to hide the frustration in her tone. Nothing seemed to matter anymore anyway.  “Love is common. Love is simple. My bond with Justinia was something greater. She was a sister, a mother, a teacher…”

Bloodied, bruised, broken. Cold rock of the cell floor, stone stained by torture, walls that held the tears and blood of the countless orlesians and fereldans that never left this prison alive. Tears drying in her face. The phantom pain of a lover’s treacherous blade still throbbing at her ribs. Praying, hoping for death. 

A bag drops from the small gate far above, surrounded by the daylight that seeps through it. A woman’s voice. Soothing, comforting. Leliana swears it's the sweetest sound she’s ever heard.

“You feel alone, perhaps for the first time, but you are far from helpless. Others need you, even at your lowest. And that is a strength I cannot describe. You can do this” 

And she finds the strength to lift herself from the cold, bloodied stone floor, if only to find the source of the mysterious voice who talked to her.

Hope.

They’re gathered around the table, where incriminating letters prove the existence of a conspiracy - the latest one - involving several grand clerics and Orlesian nobles aimed at deposing Justinia. Leliana calls for their deaths, to be granted permission to unleash her agents to purge the halls of the Grand Cathedral and the mansions and palaces of Orlais of the traitors. It wouldn’t be the first time a Divine had done so, a show of force to keep things in order. 

Justinia looks at her with concern. Leliana has told her little about what she had lived through during the Blight, but she had returned from Ferelden a changed woman, callous, cold, calculating, brutal. With the same fire from her days as a bard, but with a harshness fitting for a soldier.

As she listens to her talk about how her agents can make it all seem like accidents and to make the deaths occur gradually to avoid raising suspicion, Justinia sees the dark shadow of Marjolaine’s influence looming over Leliana. But Justinia knows that she’s the only one responsible for this. Because in the end, what is she in Leliana’s life if not Marjolaine by another name, making her spill blood in the name of the Maker just as Marjolaine had her spill blood for courtly intrigues. The Game is played even in the halls of the Grand Cathedral, after all. The memory of her moment of weakness at the hands of Marjolaine and everything it had led to filled her with a sense of shame and anger towards herself that she would never let go of.

She denies Leliana’s request, and after a few moments spent enduring Leliana’s anger and rage washing over her as she goes on about the risks of letting traitors alive and how her position will be made vulnerable, Justinia takes her into her arms, feeling how she melts into them as she starts sobbing loudly against her white robes.

“I can’t… I can’t bear the thought of losing you too. I cannot lose you too”

Justinia wishes she could let her go, to not make her course the dark ways that surround this position of power. Yet she knows that without Leliana at her side, she would have died long ago. She knows it's foolish and selfish to think of herself as the victim in this. Leliana had asked to join and serve, and she had said yes, and Justinia tells herself it was not due to her manipulation, but through a genuine act of faith. And the Divine knows she's not the only one who is at risk of losing herself.

Doubt.

The large book with the eye and a sword crossing it laid on the table, the words "Into darkness, unafraid” inscribed in the cover. Yet Justinia was afraid. Afraid that things had deteriorated to the point that it needed to be used. A last resort. 

In the distance, the White Spire stood, its walls still charred from magic fire, the same fire that had consumed the minds and hearts of men and women all over Thedas.

Justinia knew they wouldn’t find the Champion of Kirkwall, who, just as the Hero of Ferelden, seemed to have vanished into thin air. Though by the way Leliana’s eyes darkened and her sight lowered towards the floor whenever the dwarven woman who had saved Ferelden was mentioned, she couldn’t help but think that perhaps it was best that they hadn’t found the warden after all.

The task of fixing this burning and crumbling world would be up to her, to salvage what she could from the madness of a war she had failed to prevent. Justinia had relived the last years constantly in her head since the destruction of Kirkwall’s Chantry.

Had her changes been too fast and too radical? Or had they been lacking? Had she pushed too much, or had she done too little?

In the end, she knew she could only play her last card with the Conclave. History would judge her actions and determine if she was to be praised or thrown to the darkest pits, remembered only as the Divine that lost the Chantry. In any event, she had already passed judgement on herself long ago.

The sound of light steps approaching from behind brought a smile to her face, for she was very familiar to whom they belonged to. It was one of the little things she had gotten used to about Leliana over the years.

She felt her hands placing themselves on her shoulders, her lips softly planting kisses on the back of her neck as she gently pulled her white robes off her.

Leliana’s hands feel like a miracle, the callousness and scars that dotted her hands mixed with the delicate soft bits of skin a reflection of the story of her life. Each movement and caress made all the stress and weight of the world vanish under her touch, and made Justinia feel alive in a way that she only did when she’s given into her. Leliana’s hands and lips trace every line, every inch of skin, and she makes her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.

She had never asked Leliana for this, but Leliana had done it cause it was the only way she knew how to show gratitude. The only way she knew to show that she cared. The only way to show love she had ever known. The only form of love allowed to those shaped and molded by the Game. And what was Justinia doing if not playing the Game in the name of Andraste and the Maker? 

Justinia knew she should have refused, but Maker, she was only human after all. She allowed herself to have these small moments of happiness, to remind herself of the times when the world had not been thrusted upon her shoulders. She just prayed that the way Leliana’s eyes looked at her, those hushed “I love you” she said during their passion were just words uttered in the fire of the moment. She would never be worthy of Leliana’s love.

As their lips, souls and bodies met on that desk in the Grand Cathedral, in a world which only the two of them were privy to, Justinia felt her resolve stronger than ever. She would push as hard as she could in the Conclave, to help put Thedas back in order… and to leave a world where Leliana could find the peace and love she so much deserved. It was the least she could do for her.

Resolve.

“So to answer your question, Evelyn Trevelyan: yes, it was more than friendship. Friendship is a lacking term to describe the bond that we had. Now, you’ll have to excuse me. There are many things I have to see with to make sure this Inquisition of ours lasts more than a month”

As Leliana retreated to the depths of her tent, she pretended to focus on the papers in front of her, the wood on the sides of the table creaking in pain as she tightened her grip on it, desperate to hold back the tears, the rage, the pain and loss that boiled inside of her. Cause she knew, and she felt it, that if she turned around, she would be met with the sight of Trevelyan smiling mockingly at her, laughing at her pain and reveling in the turmoil she had caused. And through the holes in the fabric of the tent, the green glow of the Breach made itself seen, the embodiment of Justinia’s loss haunting her from the very skies.

But Leliana did not falter. She would not let Justinia’s name be tarnished any further by her weakness.

She had failed her enough already.

[sluttyquarantinetheory]

Cassandra is so funny as a character. She's a highly skilled fighter and is genuinely down to listen and learn about new things and different types of people. And she has absolutely zero bullshit detecting abilities whatsoever. Worst possible choice for an investigative profession.

[vigilskeep]

it’s crazy how world of thedas immediately becomes uninteresting and tonally incoherent as soon as they bring in inquisition lore like reading about previous divines and then being slapped in the face with the “but justinia was niceys :) and everyone hated her for being niceys :(” is unreal

[s0lavellan]

What a lovely little parallel between Leliana and Solas. Love finding these little nuggets in Inquisition.

[citrusai]

taash said "they were doing it" and people ran with the interpretation of an npc that doesn't know solas or the history of the elvhenan even when bellara interjected and said, no, that's not right. that's not how it was for the elvhenan. they formed bonds before they had physical bodies. and people ran to doompost or create weird anti-solavellan shit even though mythal & solas refer to each other as old friends and when she releases him there is no tenderness or love in it. it is the act of unchaining a dog from his post, the stepping down of a general. but to each their own ig.

[fartholder]

A lot of comparisons can be made between the gameplay reveal and the opening of DA:I, but these happen in the same order:

A bridge collapses as you cross it and you fall down under it

You pick up your gear, a rift opens and you get attacked by shades

You arrive at the site where a ritual to tear down the Veil took/takes place and the camera pans to Thee Rift

You get attacked by a pride demon

When first watching the gameplay i thought it was a little funny, but thinking more about it, it looks like a very deliberate choice on the developers part, especially because it then goes on to put Solas and Varric in the same "roles" as Corypheus and Divine Justinia, respectively.

[pinayelf]

when life gives u lemons uhhh

[abyssal-ilk]

something interesting to me is that in dai, vivienne says she has never met divine justinia before. she was an admirer of justinia, but they've never actually interacted. vivienne has been the leader of the loyalist mages for over a year by that point, and idk! i think it's interesting that justinia never thought to meet with vivienne during that time. especially given the fact that vivienne isn't just the leader of the loyalist mages, but also the court enchanter of orlais and the first enchanter of montsimmard

[baejax-the-great]

Going to Chantry services—not even once

[leliwardens]

it gives me like, a new mental illness on the tracker when i think of a worldstate where leliana lets marjolaine go and still remains softened after but later still kills her and ends up hardened anyway.

do you think justinia ordered it or leliana did it of her own free will?

which is worse?

[hallaslin]

I love you character portrayals of the complexity of the concept of motherhood in dragon age. I love you Brosca family, I love you Eleanor Cousland, I love you Adaia, I love you Leandra, I love you Grand Cleric Elthina, I love you Keeper Marethari, I love you Divine Justinia V, I love you Morrigan, I love you Flemeth, I love you Mythal.

[sorcerly]

Oh Divine Justinia V popped OFF with this one. Now I understand why someone would want to assassinate her.

“But why?” The Lord Seeker demanded. “The Rite of Tranquility has served the circle for centuries. It is our last defense against mages who cannot master their own powers. We must keep order, Most Holy! We must protect the innocent from the mages, and the mages from themselves!”

She nodded. “A convenient tale, so we may sleep better at night. The Maker says that magic is to serve mankind… But we possess a responsibility to those who serve us, Lord Seeker. We cannot hail them when their magic is useful and then lock them in a cage when it is inconvenient. They are the Maker’s children, not to be tolerated, but to be cherished.”

The Lord Seeker furrowed his brow, staring at the Divine in consternation. “And what price would you have us pay for such idealism, most holy?”

“Idealism is our stock-in-trade, Lambert. A religion without ideals is tyranny. As for the price” – she turned back to Pharamond – “that is what I intend to discover.”

- Dragon Age: Asunder, by David Gaider, Ch. 16

[dilfgmancoolatta]

[vigilskeep]

now that you've watched the Cassandra movie, do you know that Avexis is in Haven?

i do. i had the appropriate breakdown over this yesterday. it’s so true to the world and the chantry and yet it had me gasping