#loves leliana excited to see her again

[moss-flesh]

inquisitor aila au punching me in the face

[mumms-the-word]

Love Letters

Alistair and Lucy Amell

These letters were written as a collaboration between @callmethebrightness and myself for the lovely @elspethdekarios's birthday. callmethebrightness wrote the AMAZING letter from Alistair (and I'm obsessed with it, she nailed his voice so well) while I wrote Lucy Amell's reply letter <3 This was so much fun to work on and I am in awe of the talent my friends have in this little corner of tumblr. Thank you @elspethdekarios for trusting us with your OC! I hope you have the happiest of birthdays and that you adore these love letters!

Full text under the cut!

Alistair's Letter by @callmethebrightness

To Warden-Commander Lucy Amell, Hero of Ferelden: Lucy, I love you. I know, bad form to start a letter like that; without even a hello and how are you, but it's literally the only thing that comes to mind when I think of you, so I had to write it down first. I love you. There. Now to the rest. We're making strides looking into the Wardens and Corypheus, this "false Calling" he's managed, though it's not the sort of progress I'm particularly excited about. Every time I think I've figured out the worst of it, more bad news rears its ugly head. I'm a bit less skeptical now that we have some proper allies: not only the Champion of Kirkwall, but Inquisitor Sulah Lavellan, who has all her people putting their heads together to do something about all this. We should consider having an army at our disposal for all our problems, it's really marvelously convenient. Skyhold is an amazing place. Not just the fortress itself, where I've gotten into all sorts of places I shouldn't be ("Oh, I haven't seen this door before" -- surprise, it's a dungeon. No, thank you.) but the people and the activity here. It feels like everyone from the servants to the Inquisitor herself is committed to working together. I've met Fereldans, Orlesians, city elves, surface dwarves, ex-Templars, mages, farmers, nobles, Chantry sisters, Dalish spies, qunari, Tevinters...I could go on. If anything might be able to actually unite all of Thedas, the way the Chantry says it does, it's this thing. It's this place. Maker, I wish you could see it. Every time I see something incredible in my travels, I think that, you know. "Lucy would love this, I wish she could see it." And every time I see something horrible I think, "Maker, I wish Lucy was with me." You get the idea, don't you? You, with me, all the time, no matter what. Sometimes you're all I think about. But you knew that already. We're going to figure this thing out, Lucy. I'm going to make sure the Wardens have nothing more to fear from this Elder One, even if I have to fight him myself. And when you return, whether you've found what you're looking for or not, and I see you again -- I'm going to take you in my arms and never let you go. I mean it. That's not an exaggeration. I never want to be apart from you again, Lucy. Nothing is more important to me than that. What else? I love you. I miss you. Leliana is scarier than ever, but in a good way. I've eaten Orlesian cheese and do not care for it. I miss you. I told the Inquisition's ambassador I would include a small note in their missive to the Hero of Ferelden but my letter is now longer than the official one. I hope those creepy ravens of Leliana's can carry a little extra weight. When you see it, write her back and tell her it's creepy; she won't listen to me. There are less terrible birds, Leliana. Maker, I miss you so much I don't want to stop writing to you. Is that odd? Probably. But you wouldn't say odd. "Alistair, you're too sweet." That's what you always say when I'm being a fool, especially a lovestruck fool. Can't say I don't appreciate it, though. I'll write you again soon. There's talk of the fortress at Adamant, a potential siege. All sorts of military talk I do not care for. Whatever happens, you'll hear from me soon. I never can stand to wait long. Yours forever, Alistair

Lucy Amell's Letter (by me)

To Warden Alistair: [In a smaller script] Leliana, don’t be nosy! You’ve got your own letter! My darling, I love you. I don’t care if it’s bad form, just seeing those words at the start of your letter gave me so much joy and comfort that I couldn’t even read the rest of letter at first. I just wanted to linger there on those words and imagine them in your voice. I love you. I love you. I love you. And, Maker’s breath, I miss you, too. As my journey out west bring me farther and farther away from recognizable society, I find myself traveling alone more often than not. There are good people out here, and plenty of interesting distractions, and more than enough danger to keep my mind occupied, but again and again I wish you were at my side. I know taking down the Elder One is important, but these days I wish I had been more selfish and brought you along. But what’s done is done, and it’s good that you’re there, trying to shake some sense into our fellow Wardens. Someone has to.  What you’ve told me about the situation, and what little Inquisitor Lavellan has included in her letter, troubles me. It sounds like Corypheus is more dangerous than we thought…but if the Inquisition has the army and the resources that you say it does, then I trust them to succeed. And I trust you to survive whatever comes your way. We’ve gotten out of worse scrapes, the two of us, haven’t we? Regardless, I’ve asked Inquisitor Lavellan to look after you. I know, I know, you would say I’m fussing over you too much (but I know you love it). But if she’s your ally, then she’s my ally too, and I feel no shame in asking this much of her. I want you in one piece when we meet again, my love. Be good for me. Don’t wander into dungeons that you can’t wander out of. Avoid the Orlesian cheese if you hate it so much. Remind Leliana to eat every now and again. I know her work keeps her busy, and I can only imagine that the death of the Divine has shaken her more than she’s letting on. And take care of yourself, too.  Oh, and I’m not telling Leliana that her birds are creepy. Just be glad she’s not sending missives via nug, or we’d never get letters to one another. I’ll write soon, my darling. I love you. I miss you. Yours always, Lucy [below, in a messier scrawl, as if added to the end of the page in haste] Alistair, I’m glad I didn’t send this letter right away! I’ve got big news. I think I’ve found something, and if I’m right, it means the end of this journey is in sight. I don’t want to say what it is just yet, but…I have a really good feeling about this. This might be the cure we’ve been hoping for.  But if not, I don’t care. If it’s not this, then I’ve got nothing else to investigate out here. If this isn’t our cure, then the silver lining is this—I’m coming home, and nothing is going to stop me. Meet me in Redcliffe when all of this is said and done. Whether I’ve found the cure for our Callings or not, I will be there, in the place we first started to fall in love, at the start of the next summer. And once we are together again, my love, I swear that nothing will ever separate us again. With all my love, Lucy

[daisychainsandbowties]

Ooh an ask game! Then, I want to know #1 and #7, we'll throw in #20 so we get a pretty gif, also #2 is a pair so we can't leave that out. And finally, am curious on #17 and #6 to really get expansive words. ^^ Tell us all the juicy pretty Dragon Age things you're rolling about~

thank you so much for asking me these 🥺

1. What was the first dragon age game you played?

i got origins for my ps3 way back in high school. the first time i played it i remember i started as a mage and spammed walking bomb and spent twenty minutes on the first darkspawn boss because he killed everyone and it was just me running in circles occasionally casting a spell on him. very reminiscent of the Arishok fight🫠🫠 i tried very hard to romance Morrigan but i kept making her hate me instead😭 so i went with leliana, HOWEVER my weird eventually friends thing with morrigan inspired the ot3 ship that still haunts me to this day (warden/morrigan/leliana is 🥰🙏😳❤️🥹)

2. Which dragon age game is your favourite so far?

that’s an incredibly difficult question. i think overall in terms of how it made me feel and how much i like the gameplay loop and the environments it’s definitely Inquisition 🥺 a fic of that game kept me alive for a few really really shaky weeks a few years ago (i told myself sternly that i could only read a chapter a night, so i had to get through all the nights until the end of this 550k fic, and then the ending was the epitome of hopepunk and it made me sort of forget about being shaky). so yeah, definitely Inquisition. but i adore all the games😌. i had a lot of fun with da2 but it isn’t as good for my brain to replay over and over (<- guy who actually loves 100%ing the Hinterlands in every playthrough)

6. Do you have your Rook(s) planned out to any degree? If so, would you share some details or ideas you have?

ít’s really hard for me to rotate things in abstract like that. i know there’s lots of information but i don’t want to read it or know it before i play the game. i will most likely play as a mage? unless they make that unpleasant somehow 🥺 (i hope not) but beyond that i can’t make myself interested in planning out a character who doesn’t live anywhere (yet). it’s the same with my own fiction writing. i have to understand the world a little before i can create any characters of any substance. i’m really excited to do my first playthrough though! i know that whoever my Rook is, they will love the griffin baby 🥰

7. Which character from the previous games or other media are you most hoping will make an appearance in DAV?

it would be extremely good to see Fenris again, or Merrill. i don’t really trust Bioware with Anders, so i hope he stays with whatever peace he found after kirkwall. i liked seeing morrigan and leliana again so some da2 characters would be neat! oh!!!! isabela would make sense in this because ship captain 😳 i would love to see her again 🥺

17. Are you interested in all the lore and speculation or do you focus more on the games and stories themselves?

oh i LOVE the dragon age lore. i recently got the dragon age TTRPG core book mostly because it has so much lore in it 😳 i find dragon age lore especially compelling, particularly the grey wardens and the blight and how magic and the veil works. my favourite fics are always the lore heavy ones that engage with the themes dragon age tries (and sometimes manages) to engage with.

the speculation is also fun because dragon age fans adore pain and misery and usually conjure up the worst possible way things could go. and that’s great 🥰

20. Post a picture or gif that conveys your current level of excitement for Dragon Age: The Veilguard!

[bluewren]

OC Kiss Week: Reach

Lex is my OC, Eilan belongs to the lovely @delicatefade. We have each other's OCs living in our heads now. Entry for @ockissweek, Prompt: Reach.

Fandom: Dragon Age

Some context: Lex is visiting his clan in Wycome to help fix the alienage there. He and Eilan are able find a bit of time to have sweet getaway from their work for a picnic.

wc: 634

Countryside Picnic

~

A picnic in the Wycome countryside is the perfect escape from clan busy work. Lex and Eilan can finally enjoy a relaxing afternoon together away from the clan. No classrooms to clean, no leaf tassels to weave for the alienage elves. He wishes he had more days like this, but a few more of these, he’ll likely sink into the grass from the bliss of pleasant breeze.

Of all the Free Marcher city-states, Lex liked Wycome best. He felt none of the weariness that comes from being near those tall overbearing gray stone walls of Ostwick. As a mage, he never had to worry about Starkhaven's infamously zealous guards. Lex has always found joy in visiting Wycome in his youth, it was his peek into city life, every time the clan visited for business. If their clan is fated to settle down, this is where he’d like to be.

Eilan chose a spot that she knew had flowers. Lex set down a picnic blanket for them both. They bought fresh bread from a local bakery Eilan loved, still warm and steaming. Eilan bought a few jars of jam with them, strawberry, peach, and grape. They enjoyed the tangy flavor on the bread, though they didn’t rush to finish their treats. Letting the day go as slow as they wanted, lying down and looking at clouds as they talk.

Lex picks a flower from a nearby bush, feeling nostalgic for their youth when the two of them had grown up surrounded by nature. 

Eilan caresses the side of his head, petting the soft buzz of his undercut, smiling at the seemingly soft gesture for such a prickly man. “I never expected you to be the type to pick flowers.”

“It’s a honeysuckle. Always smelled nice.” Lex protests, wearing a toothy grin.

“Whatever you say,” she plucks the flower from Lex’s hand, placing it onto his hair. “It’s cute.”

Lex chuckles.

"How has Wycome been treating you?”

Lex yawns, crossing his arms over his head to stretch awake. “I like it.”

“You like it?” Eilan giggles in the back of her hand.

“It's a great city. I like the people. Some more than others.” he winks at Eilan. 

“Flatterer.” Eilan blushes. She turns away to pick at the honeysuckle in comfort. “Do you plan to come back to Wycome after... all of that... is over?”

“All of that?” Lex chuckles, rubbing his jaw. “Yea, maybe.”

In truth, he’s never thought about the answer to Eilan’s question. He isn’t sure when the Inquisition will be ‘over.’ They achieved their founding goal to defeat Corypheus, yet there’s so much more work to be done. He’s certain that there’s work from Leliana, probably several years more. But what about Eilan? 

“Will you still be here?” He returns the question.

“I think so.” Eilan holds his gaze as she says, “I’ll stay where you can find me.”

“What if I didn’t have to find you?” Lex shrugs, barely moving his shoulders.

“What do you mean?” Eilan raises a brow at Lex, more curious now. “You have to go back to Skyhold, don't you?”

Yes he did. “I can’t change that. But do you have to stay in Wycome?” Lex asks. He smiles, wide and excited to finally break the question to her.

“Oh. I see.” Eilan tries to hide her smile behind her hand, overwhelmed by what he was asking and confessing. “I did not think that was an option.”

“Come on. This can’t be the last time we’ll see each other.”

Eilan can’t stop smiling as she nods yes to his question.

“Yea, you’ll come?”

She nods again and laughs a little from happiness. Lex smiles. He reaches over around Eilan’s torso, bringing her closer for a kiss. His stomach feels as fluttery as the first time they kissed.

[psalacanthea]

A lil’ bit more of Solas hanging out with the Arainai-Mahariel-Tabris kiddos (and their mom).  Just a blood mage and a traitor god teaching four year olds about how change requires suffering.

Adaia   Ashalle  Cyris and Tamlen

...

Liana glanced up from her food as Cyris and Tamlen came barreling into the Skyhold kitchen, the courtyard door thrown wide.

The servants glanced over, but when it was only the Inquisitor’s children, they went back to work.  Much like Lia herself, her children had become an expected thing, as all of them preferred to use side entrances and be out of sight, rather than marching through that big noisy hall.  She wished desperately that there was an alternate exit to her rooms, but alas.

Her nearly four-year-olds were both scuffed and red-faced, but Zevran had kept his word and they weren’t muddy.  When they came to a stop at her side, Cyris beaming delightedly up at her, she returned the smiles and tilted her head.  The twins shared a look.

“Yes, loves?” she prompted.

Like usual, Cyris took the lead.  “Mumae, Tamlen wants an earring.”

“Can Tamlen tell me that’s true?” she asked, and then sighed and reinforced when the twins immediately looked at each other again instead of at her.  Creators that could be frustrating.  “I need Tamlen to tell me himself, please.”

“Tamlen says–”

“Cyris, let him speak for himself,” Lia interrupted chidingly, and turned her attention to her solemn, blond-haired, golden-eyed son.  He looked, much to everyone’s eternal amusement, almost exactly like his papa Zevran, but was the quietest and gentlest of their children.

All of their da’len were rather pragmatic apart from Tamlen, who would cry over a crushed flower and agonize over every mistake.  Instinctively, all the other children tended to protect him.  It was sweet, but it would make things difficult when they tried to do everything for him.

Tamlen nodded, eyes serious and calm.  “Yes.  Cyris too, mumma.”

“Like papa an’ da!” Cyris agreed, voice scaling up in excitement.

“Well, we’ve had this talk before, and you know the rules.  I will do your ears, or just one ear, but when you say stop, I stop.  Because it will hurt.  If you’re ready, you’ll be able to sit and not say stop for the whole time.  Yes?”  Lia smiled at their shared nod, giving one of her own.  “It’s okay if you need to cry, you can even yell!  Nobody likes pain.  But if you want to wear earrings, there has to be pain.  Yes, cubs?  Do you understand that?”

She got her ‘yes mamae’s before she would relent.  Lia had known this would happen eventually, all of the children loved to emulate their parents.  An earring wasn’t too far, in her opinion, they were so young that even if they healed the ears with magic, they would still grow over in time.  There was no reason to say no.  

Well, she doubted either of them would actually manage to go through it, but she’d been surprised too many times by children to rule it out.

Especially hers.

“Well, let us see if Hahren has time to help us,” she decided, before gathering up her chicks.

Once she’d retrieved her kit and informed Derry and Zevran of what was happening (and they’d bet on if the twins would go through with it), they found Solas and asked if he would come be their healer.  Lia was annoyed with the necessity, but she’d promised herself to limit her blood magic usage when in Chantry custody.  Every time she called it custody she knew Leliana would get annoyed, which might have been why she was still saying it.

They’d even forced her to be Inquisitor, she’d say what she wanted.

Things were…rocky between her and Leliana.

Solas seemed interested in the proposition, and they adjourned to a nearby balcony, where there were no witnesses to berate her for piercing her four year olds’ ears at their request.  Humans could be odd.  Even some city elves– their grandfather Cyrion still would fuss over the idea of the children getting tattoos.

As if she would deny them a perfectly reasonable request.

Clasping the brightly-dyed, felted piercing kit her foster mother had made for her, Lia gazed down at her sons, crouching before them as they sat on the balcony.  She met Cyris’ fearless brown eyes, and then Tamlen’s sober golden ones.  They still seemed steadfast, though Cyris was upset because he wanted a ‘ring earring, not a dot’.  But she had her limits, and risking a ripped earlobe on a four year old was one of them.

“Now,” Lia said once they were settled, Solas standing by with curiosity, his hands clasped behind his back.  “It is time for an important speech, because you decided you’re old enough for this, yes?”

The twins looked at one another, and then Cyris nodded firmly.  Lia waited, though, until Tamlen nodded as well.  It wasn’t hesitance, just his usual habit of forgetting that he had to speak for himself.  She returned the nod.

“You did not choose your body.  You were born with it, yes?”

“Not like Cole,” Cyris said, as quick as always.  “Cole was a spirit, mumae.  Like Justice!”  He confided this with the air of someone sharing a great secret.

“Mmh.  Like your friend Justice.  But we are talking of your bodies, little mischief.  A body is important for many things.  It keeps you safe, and can keep others safe, and helps you take care of others.  It lets you make life, like mamae and papa made you.  It lets you experience joys spirits do not understand.  Like sweets, and swimming–”

“An’ frogs,” Cyris interrupted, gleefully off-track as usual.

Creators, they were probably too young for this talk, but it had to be done.

“And frogs,” Lia said, and she knew she hadn’t hidden her exasperation as much as she’d wanted, because Solas smiled faintly.  “We must take care of our bodies, so it can bring us joy.  But sometimes our bodies don’t look the way we want, so we change them.  With clothes, art, or jewelry, or even bigger things, like when Uncle Gaharan from clan Lavellan removed his breasts.  Do you remember?”

Cyris shook his head, but Tamlen nodded hesitantly.  That was fair.  They hadn’t seen any of the clans since they were newly turned three, and a four year old’s memory could be quite short.  

“Do you remember when Tamlen cried because we had to cut off some of his hair that got caught in the bramble?”  This time she got very emphatic nods from both of them, and even a little tearing up from her most sensitive child.  Cyris took his hand firmly, a little protective gesture that softened her heart as always.  “It hurt Tamlen’s heart, but things like tattoos and piercings hurt your body.  Earrings will hurt.”

“A lot, mumma?” Tamlen asked nervously.

“It will.  To change is difficult,” Lia said, lifting the needle in two fingers.

“Mumae, does it hurt the frog?  To be frog?” Cyris asked, little voice stilted by his concern.

Lia understood why it was coming up again– Derry had told her frogs and tadpoles were a current obsession for Cyris’ very hands-on curiosity.  Very well, if frogs it had to be, frogs it would be.  “To change from a little pollywiggle to a frog?  I don’t know if it does, but…growing up always hurts a little, I think.  Do you think hurting a little to have legs and to be able to jump up is okay or–”

“Yes!  Up, up, up!” Cyris agreed, throwing both hands into the air.

“Sometimes to gain something we desire, it hurts,” Solas said quietly. 

Tamlen nodded, voice quiet.  “It’s trade.”

Lia beamed, all the more amused to see Solas’ proud smile as well.  She knew they would wriggle through his defenses eventually.  She’d known it all along.  He had a temperament to get along with children quite well, if he let himself.  Which he had.

“Very good, da’len.  You understood very well,”  Solas complimented Tamlen, who glanced down and fidgeted with his fringed belt shyly.

“When Addie got her t’too, mum said it’s trade for hurt, Hahren.”

Lia flushed, embarrassed to have been caught out.  Solas lifted his gaze slowly, and gave her a condescendingly knowing look.  With a little huff, she rolled her eyes to the side.

“Well, perhaps I’ve given this speech before,” she admitted, ignoring his silent laugh.  Creators.  It wasn’t like she could be blamed for some repetition, she was trying to teach the same things to four very different little people.

“Adaia has a tattoo?”  Solas asked, both eyebrows raising.

“A small one, in a spot that will be easy to cover over when it stretches as she grows,” Lia dismissed, finding it silly to hear Solas say things she’d heard a thousand times from Derry’s side of the family.  “Her da and papa are covered in them, it’s natural to her.  If a child is prepared for the consequences and the discomfort, who am I to say no?”

Solas didn’t bother to hide the subtle smirk that curved up the corner of his wide mouth.  “Their mother, perhaps?  She is only six, Lianalle.”

Lia lifted a hand and flickered it in dismissal, annoyed with him for the very rare usage of her full name.  She knew he did it on purpose.  Smug old man.  “A tattoo does no harm but the pain of receiving it.  Besides, it will be good practice to know what it feels like, for when she receives her Vallaslin.”

Solas’ silence was sudden and profound.  She glanced sidelong at his face, absently using a hand to pull Cyris away from the balcony’s edge.  Although Solas’ face was placid, there was a sudden tension in the muscles at the back of his jaw, a curiously pained emotion in his eyes.  He was hiding something.

She followed his gaze down to Tamlen, who was sitting on the floor still holding Cyris’ hand, gazing at his twin with a small, gentle smile.

Why did it give Solas such an uneasy expression?

“I'm going to poke your fingers with the needle,” she informed her sons.  If Lia was right, that would be enough for one of them to give in, which would make the other one give in.  “If you can stand the finger poke and still want your ear afterwards, I will do your ear.”

“And I will heal you,” Solas agreed.  They shared a look, and he shook his head slightly at her, obviously amused.

She wasn’t as certain as him that they would give up after a single poke.  While neither of them was nearly the bulwark of stubbornness that Adaia was, nor as carefully thoughtful, they were quite adventurous.  For four year olds.

They both took the needle to their cautiously outstretched finger quite well, though Tamlen immediately teared up when he saw the little drop of blood.  Luckily his brother was there to kiss it better, and then Solas to heal it afterward.  Much to her surprise, however, it was at that point that they diverged.

Usually when Tamlen decided to back down about something, Cyris would immediately follow him.  But this time, after their small twin conversation that involved more significant looks than words, Cyris decided he wanted to keep going.  And Tamlen…was all right with that, instead of immediately bursting into tears.

She was rather proud of them both for that choice.

Of course, she only got halfway through piercing Cyris’ ear before he gave up, left with a little bloody hole that Solas healed over.  Thankfully without judgment.  Solas seemed highly amused by the whole process, but interested as well, as she’d rather thought he would be.  

It was an endlessly fascinating thing to watch children learning the rules of life.

When the boys ran off after she dried their tears, unharmed and declaring they would be ‘brave enough soon’, Lia opened the soft felted case again, gazing down at the gleaming needles.

She had no doubt they would be ready sooner rather than later.

“Liana…”

“Mmh?” she asked, glancing up at Solas as she rose from the stone, knees chilled.

“The Vallaslin…” he trailed off, but not out of awkwardness.  More because he knew just how far to push her by now, she thought.  His face was still perfectly composed when she met his measuring gaze.

“Were you going to say something about ‘Dalish nonsense’ again?” she asked him mildly, not worrying too much about it if he were.  By now, at least, she felt comfortable scolding him.  “I thought we already agreed not to have that fight any more.  I let my children call you Hahren, Solas, don’t make me regret it.”

Solas chuckled faintly, the sound a hint strained.  But when she glanced sidelong, his face was placid, and his voice even as he spoke.  “I wonder, as a mother, do you ever fear that the teachings you impart to your children may be…wrong?”

Lia considered that for a moment, and then took a moment longer to filter it through her understanding of his mind.  He thought her gods a farce, or worse, dangerous.  He found Dalish culture to be a misshapen thing because it did not conform to the truths he thought he had seen in the Fade that contradicted it.  Yet he could not truly understand Dalish culture.

How could he educate that which he didn’t first understand?

She knew that he was earnest that the Vallaslin was what bothered him, but wouldn’t doubt for a moment that there was more to his distaste than the process of tattooing young people.  “The details may not all be correct, and I will make mistakes, and pass on some of the mistakes that were taught to me.  But what I worry about are the things the world will teach them when I am not there to protect them.  So I suppose, Solas, the best I can do is teach them to understand the world, how it works for ones such as they, and why it is better to live in it with kindness, nobility of spirit, and resilience.  So that when I, or their fathers are not here, they can pass through the trials and suffering of this world with those qualities intact.”

“Resilience.  Well, their mother certainly exemplifies that quality,” Solas said with an incline of his head.  And then he chuckled.  “Fathers as well, though with a great deal less…dignity.”

Lia laughed, not needing to argue that point with him when he was so very correct. “Zevran and Darian are far more good-hearted than I, however.  I am not kind.  Perhaps that’s why I need them both, to anchor me.  You know, if you found someone to temper your need to always be correct, falon, you might be a good father yourself.”

“You claim I require a partner to correct me?  Do you not find that sentiment as distasteful as I?” Solas countered, raising an eyebrow.

She hid her amusement that she’d needled him.  “Everything we do and everyone we meet changes us, doesn’t it?  Life isn’t a road, and it isn’t a lonely one.  It’s a pond that is constantly shifting, surface rippling with even the most delicate of contacts.  Everything we are touched by changes us, in curious and unexpected ways.”  Unbidden, she glanced down at her marked hand, forehead furrowing as she flexed her fingers.

Solas’ voice eased, softening as it always would when they spoke of her difficulties with the Anchor.  “You would know.  This is your second world-ending cataclysm, after all.”

“The Blight was…different,”  Lia said, troubled as always.  Would that saving the world twice followed the same pattern– she would have preferred it.  “We were so young, and we never had time to look at the scale of what we fought.  It was not so entangled in complications and Thedas-wide politics.  They claim they need these politics to garner the forces we–” She cut off, swallowing her many tearful, terrified speeches that she had only shared with her husbands.  Face and mind calm; emotions should not be so easily shared.  “I fear what ripples I am being forced to make.  And for whom I make them.”

“Yes,” Solas said, an echo of many other conversations they had engaged in, once she had trusted him enough to be honest.  His voice was sober and quiet, thoughtful.  “But necessity must drive us, da’len.”

Lia shot him a sidelong look, lips pursing.  “Da’len?”

“Ir abelas,” Solas said, with the faintest twitch of his lips.

She narrowed her eyes at him.  “You should be calling me hahren.”

“I beg your pardon?” Solas scoffed.

She lifted a needle, spinning it in her fingers.  “Will you be brave, then, Solas?  I’m here prepared, but with nothing to pierce.”

“I find myself in no need of decoration,” he replied, eyeing the needle in her hand.  “We struggle through a time of great change, and there are enough without my adding to them.”

“Or you could embrace the change, and let yourself change as well, falon.  Even if only a little, and frivolously.  In a way that brings you joy.”  With a sad smile she tucked the needle away into the felt case, voice slowing.  “Joys are in short enough supply.  We must take what small ones we can.”

Solas was quiet for a time, but when she glanced away from the vista of distant mountains to his face, there was a ghost of a smile at the very corners of his eyes, nearly reaching his lips.

“Perhaps another time,” he said quietly.

With a small nod, she turned back for the door, slipping the woven leather cord around the case and tying it securely.  She had a foot past the threshold when Solas spoke again.  She was pleased to hear a hint of humor in it.

“Were you aware that your husband cheats at cards?”

Lia smirked to herself, tucking the case into the front of her tunic.  “Oh my, yes.  Zevran mentioned you’d demanded another game.  He will cheat again.”  That thought was tinged with overwhelming affection.

“And he will lose,” Solas replied with calm confidence.

“I look forward to seeing it.  It will doubtless be very entertaining,” she said, smiling to herself as she departed.

A small joy– a brief reprieve from the pain.

[robotslenderman]

6, 7, 8 and 9 :D

6. Do you have your Rook(s) planned out to any degree? If so, would you share some details or ideas you have?

My Rook is my Lavellan, Liriel. Liriel was not the Inquisitor in my playthrough - Sable Trevelyan was - but she, along with two other Lavellans (Lahariel and Mahanon, who belong to @orodrethsgeek), were headcanon companions instead.

Liriel had a Solavellan "romance" which was very different to the canon romance and was more like enemies with benefits, tho by the end of the game there was genuine fondness between them. (Stronger on Solas's side, due to Liriel's passion for knowledge; Liriel knew better than to get too attached to someone who looked down on her.) Liriel figured out who Solas was but didn't tell anyone other than Lahariel and Mahanon until Trespasser. At first she wanted to kill Solas, but Cole speaking up for him plus her softening over time means that by DA4 she's willing to hear him out, and possibly aid him if it means not killing innocents in the process. But if he goes ahead with it, yeah, she's gonna fuck him up.

She is convinced the Evanuris are the Archdemons.

DA4 actually perfectly lines up with my headcanon post-DAI for her - after meeting Mythal Liriel was bitterly disillusioned and set out on a quest to uncover the secrets of Arlath'an that Solas was keeping from her. The Veiljumpers fit her perfectly bc of that. I think she'd already be great friends with Bellara.

She did have a kid with Solas. Celysel will be around ten by DA4. She knows she "comes from" Solas but doesn't consider him her father at all; she considers Lahariel and Mahanon her dads and is a bit confused that people expect her to be upset that she never knew Solas. She doesn't know he's the Dread Wolf, but she may be told during DA4.

7. Which character from the previous games or other media are you most hoping will make an appearance in DAV?

So Fenris hasn't been Liriel's dad in eight years since I made her Liriel instead of Leandra, but it's still gonna fuck her up if he shows up lmao. (If he does I'm just going to headcanon that her actual dad is tagging along, since their backstories are still p much the same and they'd get along really well). I'm also hoping for Dorian and Leliana, our Divine.

8. What faction are you most excited to learn more about?

Veiljumpers, for obvious reasons!

9. Which romance, if any, do you plan to pursue first?

Liriel won't be pursuing any romances because she has husbands at home.

Altho if Bioware smiles upon me and makes it possible to romance the egg woof again I'd absolutely love to see how that goes purely bc I miss watching Solas and Liriel argue and I'd honestly love to see how the whole "yeah you're an omnicidal maniac" angle overshadows it. It'd be JUICY

also if Liriel brought Solas home it'd be hilarious to picture Mahanon's reaction of "yay! Solas is back!" contrasted with Lahariel's "WHY THE FUCK DID YOU BRING THIS ASSHOLE HERE I THOUGHT WE GOT RID OF HIM"

[aqueouserbium]

I'm feeling like having a word vomit regarding Dragon Age romance.

So, like, a few weeks ago now I finished a replay of Dragon Age: Inquisition with a Solas romance (wanted to see what all the hubbub was about). I also struggled and struggled and eventually got Dragon Age: Origins to play on my computer, so I started that (still crashes but can sustaibably play for a bit if I don't tab out). Since I couldn't start at DAO, I spent time reviewing stuff in Dragon Age Keep.

I've already ranted about how I got cucked twice on PS3 from a Leliana romance, and how that first time led me to romance Morrigan (didn't finish the second one out of spite), but that led me to experiencing moments in my first (and, for a while, only full) DAI playthrough to have tidbits of Warden×Morrigan dialogue, so I didn't get to experience anything from what I had hoped to experience with Leliana. I thusly proclaimed in DAK that the Warden romanced Leliana. And every moment Lady Nightingale shared with the Inquisitor about the Warden was just about everything I needed. It was great. 10/10 will do again.

Regarding Hawke and the Dragon Age 2 romances, I've always been enamored by Merrill. She's so damn cute and driven and studious and ajhsvrosj. Naturally, I set her as Hawke's romance in DAK. Unlike Leliana's dialogue, though, I didn't get much about Merrill. You don't spend enough time with Hawke for the Inquisitor to become friends with the Champion, and I yearn for my powerful blood mage.

In DAK, I maintain a "This Is My Ideal World State—My Personal Canon" option, and it changes every so often if I care enough to review it. Naturally, this replay and re-dive into Dragon Age led to me caring, so I went through it all again after finishing DAI. All the art I've seen on here and the continued excitement of the fandom despite only having blips of communication and non-game media from BioWare helped push this, too. Despite my absolute love for Leliana and Merrill, I think my headcanon for the overall story has changed.

I think it's become Warden/Morrigan and Champion/Fenris.

For the former, a male Warden being Kieran's father sends me to a place in my mind that I haven't yet explored, and I love that. I don't remember much of any of the connection being deeply regarding in my first DAI playthrough, but I want there to be more for it, and I think this situation will be incredible. I'm sorry for taking the love of your life away, Leliana. I still love you.

For the latter, I've seen some amazing art depicting Fenris finding Hawke in the Fade, and there's something about it that just fucking slaps so damn good. I don't doubt that Merrill would do the same, but Merrill has a lot of responsibility that she's taken based on what I know from the games—she has other people she needs to protect. I don't know—maybe I just feel like it'd be garder for her to pursue Hawke with all that. (NOT TO MENTION THAT BIOWARE FORCES HAWKE TO BE VERY AGGRESSIVELY ANTI TO BLOOD MAGIC IN DAI WHICH EITHER MAKES THEM A HYPOCRITE ABOUT MERRILL OR FUCKING ABUSIVE TO HER.) Again, I don't fully know, but Fenris going after Hawke in the Fade is just a powerful image that I love so much. Merrill I absolutely love you, and I would never talk shit about blood mages in a general sense that would have to include you because it's said so generally.

In regards to DAI romances, my first was Cassandra, which was partially accidental because I was kind of flirting with a lot of people but would often talk to her first. I really liked it, too, especially when she and my Inquisitor would hide away with each other once she was the Divine. There's something so sweet and powerful about that. However, I feel like the Solas romance will end up being my ideal canon. I don't know. It wasn't that it was exceptionally fantastic to play through, but I think it has the greatest potential for intrigue in future games, especially Dragon Age: Dreadwolf (obviously). Like, The Iron Bull is hot, but his romance is weirdly lacking after climax, with sex being one of the only obvious elements of it. While I love Cassandra as the Divine and romancing the Inquisitor, I think I want Leliana as the Divine, so that plot intrigue becomes limited. And the other romances, while often enjoyable, just don't have the power of plot driving them for me. (I desperately want to romance Scout Harding, though. So bad. I know she can get with Sera, but I'm down for a throuple.)

All the romances (except Sebastian) have their merit and fun, but Morrigan–Fenris–Solas will probably keep as my canon. Kind of sucks because I normally like with queer ships but I see my Hawke as female.

[amatres]

got tagged by @demandthedoodles, thank you! I only filled out Surana for now because I think way too hard and also little on these sort of things and I couldn't do this for all three of my mage girls off the top of my head lol.

I switched between stuff that's her favorites and what represents her because I wasn't quite sure what I was doing :') still I hope it makes sense lol.

putting it under the cut because it's... too long

Unusual OC Associations: Surana Edition

Seasoning: Tragically as someone who grew up in the tower, which definitely doesn't feed the mages more than easy to mass produce food, lived in the middle of Ferelden, and never left Ferelden before she died, she doesn't know anything about spices and probably doesn't have that great a tolerance for them. One more crime the Chantry has done unto Thedas; deny mages knowledge of seasonings.

Weather: Rain and Snow. She never got to interact with it in the tower, so she took every chance to savor it, much to the occasional set back to the group. Especially loved thunder storms, and had to be held back at least once from cast her own lightning during one.

Colour: She likes anything not blue. I associate her a lot with the color yellow.

Sky: She likes watching the sky change at sunset or sunrise, again because she never really got to see it so clearly without having to strain her neck to look up at the windows.

Magic power: Out of the magic she can cast, her favorite is probably shapeshifting. It's old magic, she gets to be sneaky, gives her more freedom to escape from situations, and also she got to spend a lot of time with Morrigan to learn it.

House plant: Herbs for her potions. Don't get me wrong, she's happy to see nature, plants just aren't something that hold her attention much.

Weapon: A dagger, because it's easy to hide, and Zevran and Leliana were nice enough to teach her how to fight with them before she got her Arcane Warrior specialization. Always good to be able to defend yourself without magic when you encounter a Templar.

Subject: History in a broad sense, she doesn't find much interest in war, but studying cultural and religious history is interesting to her. She was very excited to find the Temple of Sacred Ashes, sorry Sten, she totally dragged you guys there just because she wanted to see it, not to heal Arl Eamon. Entropy Magic and Spirit Magic, she's the origins version of a necromancer and she enjoyed studying it. Poisons, and was very excited at Zevran's offer to describe the effects of poisons to her.

Social media: Surana, even in a modern setting, has the inner peace granted only to those who never have a social media account.

Make-up product: Face cleanser and moisturizer, if that counts lol.

Candy: She never got to try them, but I imagine she would have loved any numerous types of candies from Orlais Leliana would have given her.

Fear: Being confined with no way out.

Ice cube shape: Crushed.

Method of long distance travel: Flying as a bird.

Art style: Baroque and Rococo. She can't escape the chantry church aesthetic, but she would have had fun with the elaborate styles of Orlais with Leliana had she lived to see it.

Mythological creature: Very standard option but a ghost, both because her grief haunts her until it leads to her own death, and also because her death haunts many different characters after she is gone.

Piece of stationery: The little journal she was given shortly after being conscripted by Duncan. She wrote down much of her experience and thoughts during the Fifth Blight there, and Leliana kept it after Surana passed away.

3 emojis: 💀💍🔮

Celestial body: Sagittarius, for the zodiac symbolism. They're known for being curious and crave freedom, which suits her well.

[themurderofcrowscollective]

That makes her break out into sobs, loud and much-needed sobs. She clings onto Simon for dear life, Simon holding her tightly as she cries. For once she allows herself to feel, to hold onto that hope that he'd still accept her for who she really is, to be excited to live again. It takes 10 minutes for her to calm down, but Simon doesn't let go of her. " I want you to smile... but only when you feel like it. I want you to live happily as who you are, and be you without feeling sorry about it. A-And I... will try to be more, uh... " He feels his blushing grow brighter as he tries to find the words. " It's okay... *sniff* I understand... you don't have to force yourself to be more in tune with your emotions. " Simon lets out a sigh of relief. " Oh thank god, I can't handle it at all. " But it doesn't stop him from laughing a little, as he watches Leliana's eyes start to have a light in them once again and he is blown away by her smile. It really does feel like he's a kid again, experiencing his first love. Leliana then is struck with something. " Wait... does this mean I don't have to wear this stupid dress anymore? " Simon looks a bit confused by that, but he's genuinely curious. " I suppose so. " This has Leliana gasp happily as she smiles more and giggles, immediately going for her tight bun and letting her hair loose. " Oh thank you! " Simon, what have you done? You started something incredible, that's what you did. He watches Leliana giggle happily and smile like she hasn't in a long time, before she throws herself into his arms again and kisses him on the lips, laughing as she pulls away and looks at his face. He's so lost and dazed from the kiss, this is a total different woman than the one he married. " I won't be long, I'll be back! " Leliana says before leaving the study in a rush, laughing while she runs down the halls. One of the butlers looks inside the study after she rushes past him, surprised a bit to see Simon stand there as red as a tomato and in a lovestruck daze. " Sir, are you alright? " " Uh-huh... " - - - Leliana bursts into their bedroom and goes for her wardrobe, pushing past every godforsaken dress and taking out a large box with a lock on it. It's fairly big and looks like two people are supposed to hold it but Leliana didn't just hide herself, she also hid her incredible strength. Reaching into a secret pocket she has, she takes out a key and giggles before kissing it and unlocking the large trunk, looking at her old favorite pieces of clothing. In minutes, she takes off her dress and incredibly tight corset before switching into a loose button-up shirt and leaving the top of the shirt unbuttoned with the sleeves rolled up, pulling on a pair of pants that surprisingly fit her. She hears footsteps enter the room as she finishes pulling up her pants and putting her hair up in a sort of lazy bun, turning around with a smile. Simon is in shock and awe, his jaw dropping as Leliana also puts on suspenders with her shirt tucked in. " . . . Holy shite. " " What do you think? " Leliana giggles at her husband's reaction, placing her hands on her hips. " I think I'm deeply in love with you. Is there anything else you're hiding from me? " Leliana chuckles and hugs Simon, before lifting him up like he's a sack of potatoes. " I don't know, you tell me. " 'I MARRIED A WOMAN WHO CAN LIFT ME UP!! THANK YOU GOD IN HEAVEN!!!' is all Simon can think of while she slings him over her shoulder, giggling before she places him down. Simon only kisses her again and hugs her, starting to laugh more. " Oh my god I love you. " " I love you too. " - - - (Psst, here's Leliana's looks!)

(On the left is Leliana's usual wear and on the right is her wedding dress, but her current look is this one!)

(Simon is a lucky man :D) - - - The pair of them stand there for a while, holding each other and swaying back and forth. It feels very nice until Leliana hears a knock on the door. " Yes? " " Ma'am, sir, we've gotten a restock for our pantry. I only came to let you both know! " Leliana lets go of Simon and opens the door fully, looking at the maid with a smile. " Thank you Christine, I can go help the butlers unload it all. " The maid named Christine gasps, covering her mouth with her eyes widened before she clears her throat to compose herself. " Very well, ma'am. F-Forgive me but... you look incredible. " Before Leliana leaves, she smiles warmly. " Thank you, " She looks to Simon for a quick second, " I'll be back love. " " I'll come with, if you don't mind. " Simon quickly puts his mask back on, following behind her as she walks through the halls and to the back doors of the kitchen, opening the doors widely to greet the butlers who look wide-eyed at her. " Good afternoon gentlemen, let me give you a hand. " They're all speechless as Simon leans on the counter in the kitchen and watches Leliana pick up three rucksacks of potatoes without breaking a sweat and walking inside to the pantry. The other men bring in all sorts of things like crates of wine, more meats and poultry, crates of vegetables (Leliana carried five of them and one of the men looked like he was going to faint) and more bags of flour along with other things. Normally it'd take a while to get everything in and a good dozen of the house staff, but most of the maids stood and watched Leliana work along with Simon who seemed to be in awe. Afterwards, with everything put away in the right places, Leliana wipes the sweat off her forehead before looking to the butlers. " Thank you for the help, gentlemen. Simon dear, would you like to go for a stroll before dinner? It's that time of day you like. " Simon, having been lost in the sight of watching his wife, snaps back to reality and looks outside. Not too hot and not too cold, the sun is slowly setting, it's perfect. He chuckles and nods. " I would love to. " Taking her hand, the pair walk out into the back gardens while the butlers try to comprehend what happened and the maids swoon a bit before getting to work immediately. - - - As Leliana and Simon walk together in silence, Simon can't help but look at how lively she seems in the sun. Normally on their walks, she'd carry an umbrella to hide herself from the sun and wear black and thick clothing but now she's glistening in the sun (not just because of the sweat), walking freely. Leliana looks at Simon and smiles as they stop at a large weeping willow tree, looking up at the tree. " This tree... it's my favorite one. " " Why's that? " Leliana smiles at the memory that comes to mind. " I used to climb this tree with my brothers before my mother died, and I haven't climbed a tree since then. " " Why not do it again? " She looks at Simon and saw that he took off his mask, smiling before she chuckles and backs up a bit before taking a running start and leaping and grabbing onto the tree's nearest branch. It feels incredible to climb again so Leliana goes for it, grabbing branch after branch before she sits on a decently high branch and looks down below, waving at Simon happily. Little did she know, he also started to climb the tree and sat next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. " This is a nice view... " " Ehh you're nicer to look at though. " She teases with a smug grin, kissing Simon's cheek. While the two sit there, listening to the birds chirping and watching the cool breeze sway the leaves, Simon looks at Leliana and starts to talk. " Remember that talk I said we were going to have a few weeks earlier? " " Yes, wanna have it now? " " Well... I'd like to know more about you, if you don't mind answering my questions. " " By all means, ask away. "

The New Lady.

(Call of Duty x Victorian Era) - - - The Archer name is known far and wide throughout Manchester and it's neighboring towns, a family most famous for their horses and contributions to the war but also quite infamous for their only daughter; Leliana Archer. In her youth, she was rambunctious and outgoing which wasn't the expected nature of an Archer according to her father but her mother supported her daughter despite his constant bickering about her. She fit in well with her brothers as well, which were more abundant. Over 9 boys. She was quite the troublemaker too, playing tricks on the businessmen who visited her home to work on whatever was important at the time with her brothers who saw nothing wrong with her. However things changed quickly when Leliana's mother passed away from a terrible sickness. The boys started to listen to their father more, having no time to play or relax as Mr. Archer wanted them all to become fine men who might either go into war or into the family business, but they didn't suffer the worst as their sister did. Leliana was beaten almost daily for acting out of line, being locked in the cellar every night due to her saying one thing wrong or acting up. Mr. Archer wasn't a kind man and his only way to not be so horrible was his wife, so without her, he became ruthless. At the age 17, Leliana was woken up in the dead of night by three strange men who grabbed her and took her away quickly, not knowing that her father had paid the asylum for wayward girls to take her away. The horrors she spent there are too terrifying to recount, but she was released when she turned 20. Pleased with the results, Mr. Archer had already arranged a marriage for her with the finest soldier in town; Mr. Graves. He had come from America to live here and was a decorated soldier, running a company of his own mercenaries so Mr. Archer thought he was a perfect match for Leliana. The marriage itself was abusive and already withering away, and it only lasted 3 months. Leliana had been corrected, yes, but she knew her boundaries and the lessons she was taught by her assigned teacher who taught her everything there was to being a lady. She carried out the divorce gracefully and without emotion, while Graves went around the whole town bad-mouthing her. Of course, he had her father be spoken of in good faith but shortly, Leliana became known far and wide as the lady unable to be wedded. Anywhere she went after the divorce, she heard gossip about what she supposedly did but she knew better than to be involved. Three years later, Leliana awoke to her 3rd brother shaking her shoulder. " Leliana, wake up. Father requested you be up immediately. " She only blinks at him and gets out of bed, moving fast to getting dressed in a black dress with a really tight corset. Despite being free from the asylum and having left Graves, she has taken a vow of silence to be seen, not heard. Once she is dressed, she leaves her room and heads into the living room where she is met with her father staring at her as well as a masked man with short blonde hair. She doesn't say anything except curtsy to the two, standing tall. As if on cue, her father begins to talk. " Mr. Riley, this is my only daughter, Leliana. She used to be quite the handful but she's undergone drastic correcting and you will be pleased to know she is the ideal woman. Don't let the gossip tell you otherwise. After her last marriage, she's taken a vow of silence. Dear, this is Simon Riley, your soon-to-be-wedded husband. " Mr. Archer leans back in his chair with a grin. " I'm sure you know who the Riley family is. It's a shame you won't meet anyone else from his family, but I know you will be the perfect wife for him. I'll have the maids pack your things and you will be wedded in three hours. " - - -

[inquisimer]

Dalish Week: Arlathvhen

Very excited to kick off Dalish Week and a big thank you to the mods who put this event together!! You’re awesome, lovely people and I’ve had a lot of fun musing about the prompts and exploring rabbit holes about the clans in my stories🥰🥰

For day one, I submit a snippet of reunion between Merrill and Neria, post-Trespasser, discussing some logistics and anxieties about the upcoming Arlathvhen.

@dalish-appreciation-week

~~~

A gentle breeze drifted through the Inquisitor’s bay window, warmed by Skyhold’s weather enchantments and carrying the faint smell of new blooms. It stirred Neria’s hair across her eyes and her frustration spiked. The leather straps she was trying to fasten gave her enough trouble when she could see them—now they inevitably slipped her grasp and fluttered loose. Again.

Across the room, Merrill’s oblivious chatter continued uninterrupted. Neatly organized stacks of parchment filled Neria’s desk and a quill occupied her friend’s hand, tracing out a campsite guide for the upcoming Arlathvhen. Neria caught only snippets of Merrill’s dialogue in her peripheral—something about making sure Clan Ghilain stayed at least two sites apart from Clan Oranavra and establishing civility between the Firsts from the start. She clenched her jaw and fumbled for the straps again, to no avail. It simply wasn’t a task meant to be done one-handed and her stump of a left arm stubbornly refused her efforts at control.

To her shame and embarrassment, a frustrated huff slipped out between her teeth.

Lithe hands replaced hers at once—she hadn’t even noticed Merrill cross to the bed, but her friend tucked the loose strands of Neria’s hair behind her pointed ears and set to braiding the straps. Her fingers wove a far more intricate plait than the basic knot Neria failed to achieve. Defeated, she wilted like a parched lotus.

“Time and patience make the elfroot a silk gown, falon,” Merrill chirped lightly. She let the newly fastened straps dangle at Neria’s side and tugged her braid playfully.

Neria frowned. “I’ve given it time, salgehsa. Time, and rest, and healing—but the world will not wait for my brain to figure out it’s missing an arm. Turmoil in the Wardens, fallout from the Breach everywhere, and Solas—“

She tripped over her friend’s name and bit her tongue, hard, to push back the hot lump of tears in her throat. “Solas could decide that this world’s time ends at any moment. How long is this” —she clumsily jerked her left shoulder forward— “going to take?”

“As long as it takes,” said Merrill firmly. She returned to the desk, flipping through a stack of half-sheets. “How long did it take you to learn how to use two arms?”

“What?”

“Well that’s your only point of comparison, unless you plan on hunting down another amputee and asking them. So however long it took you to learn how to use two arms, expect this to take that long. Longer, if you count that you have to unlearn the two-handed way and replace it with the one-handed way in your head.”

She paused and tilted her head, glancing back over her shoulder. “Does that make sense?”

“I think so?” Neria rubbed her remaining hand over her eyes and when she opened them once more an apologetic smile curled her lips. “Ir abelas, Merrill. You were saying something, before?”

“Oh yes, the campsites—the trouble is, Ghilain and Oranavra have both written that they’re bringing more aravels than anyone else and the hunters who scouted the site say we’d have to put them next to each other…”

Neria half-listened, nodding and humming in the right places even as her attention drifted. She needed a meeting with Leliana, perhaps once Josephine’s latest fleet run returned. Cassandra wanted to discuss the new Seekers’ progress. And she owed Cullen’s clinic a proper check-in—he assured her the mages there thrived, wholly empowered and respected, but she’d be restless until she saw for herself.

At some point, Merrill’s train of thought switched from logistics to something more interesting, but Neria’s half-focused mind didn’t catch it. Merrill eventually cottoned on to the neutrality of her responses and she cocked her head, brow furrowed as she trailed off. In the ensuing silence, Neria’s attention finally snapped back to her friend, an apology already on her lips.

“Aren’t you excited for the Arlathvhen, lethallan?” Merrill asked.

“Oh, I—.” Neria caught her lip between her teeth. Exasperation hovered on the tip of her tongue, but Merrill looked so genuinely puzzled, Neria couldn’t doubt her. It seemed obvious to her and she’d rather thought Merrill, of all her friends, wouldn’t need an explanation. “I’m thrilled for you, salgehsa. And the clans. It’s overdue and sorely needed. But…I won’t be going. You know that, right?”

“No, I don’t know that. And neither do you. Why on earth wouldn’t you be going?”

“Do you want the short list or the long one?”

“You have lists? Oh, Mythal.” Merrill pursed her lips. “Wait just one moment.”

She neatly straightened the paper she’d been shuffling and returned it to the desk. A snap of her fingers stoked the dying fire and she dragged a few soft furs from the basket at the foot of the bed to form a comfortable nest before the hearth. She sat cross-legged and looked pointedly at the space in front of her until Neria joined her.

“Now,” Merrill tilted her head, looking quite like an expectant puppy. “Tell me these reasons you have and we’ll see if they have any merit.”

“Right,” muttered Neria, sliding her fingers through the silky fur and picking at a matted patch. She tucked her bare feet under her legs and bit the inside of her cheek.

“Well start with the obvious—just a handful of years ago I wouldn’t even be invited to the Arlathvhen. I’m not fundamentally different than I was then and yet somehow a few scant years with Clan Lavellan and ink on my face qualifies me? It feels like obligatory pandering, at best.”

“And even when I was with the clan I never adopted their beliefs, or any form of Dalish religion at all. I don’t think I can even properly be called Dalish without that? And especially now, with everything that we learned at the Exalted Council, from Solas? How can I look all those people in the eye and tell them their last hope for their culture is built on a lie?”

“I’ve lived most of my life among humans—how will the more isolated clans see that? And—“ Neria tried to swallow, but her throat had dried in an instant. She coughed against closed lips. “And I’m married, but my husband and our relationship would be a blacklisted topic, because I know there are clans who frown on relations with shems. Even though Cullen loves all of me—because of, not despite the pointed ears and tattoos.”

“At best, I’m going as some half-hearted representative of an organization that doesn’t exist anymore,” she finished, sagging like a deflated balloon. “So I might as well just stay away.”

Merrill considered her for a moment, then nodded. For half a beat, a shocked Neria almost believed that this wouldn’t be any kind of debate. Then—

“Right, well. If those are your reasons for not going, then I suppose I won’t be going either.”

“What?” Neria nearly choked on the word. Her ears twitched forward in disbelief. “How do you figure that?”

Merrill held up a hand, lifting a finger with each reason she ticked off. “I haven’t lived with my clan full-time in over a decade—I’ve been in Kirkwall or off with Hawke or traveling through shem cities. And even the last time I was seeing my clan on a semi-regular basis, those aren’t good memories on either side and we definitely didn’t part on a speaking basis. Nearly getting them killed is probably worse than not having a clan—which you do, by the way, but I’ll get to that.”

“If we want to talk about relationships—I might not be married, but Carver is about as shem as they come, lethallin.” A wry smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, but her eyes sparkled with fondness. “And you know I’ll be talking about him, not in the least because I’m sure they’ve all read Varric’s books and are dying to know what’s true. You’re right, some clans are isolationist and strict—but the Arlathvhen isn’t dictated by them. It’s a notorious gossip mill and our relationships far outweigh their opinions in that regard, unfortunately.”

That brought a strained chuckle to Neria’s lips.

“And you—“ Merrill jabbed a finger toward Neria’s chest— “better hope I don’t send a letter off to Mahanon. You know how well he’d take this self-flagellation you have going on—and discounting your time with the clan? Oh, he’d have a field day with that. On second thought, maybe I should—“

“Don’t you dare. I’ll tell Harding not to let you use any of the ravens, if I have to.”

“I won’t, I won’t.” The mischief in Merrill’s eyes melted into something more serious. “But—if it would ease your worries—“

“No.” Neria shook her head firmly. “The clan…I don’t want to put them in an awkward position. They have their actual First back and I don’t want them to feel some sort of unfounded obligation to send an affirmation they don’t mean.”

“It’s hardly unfounded, lethallin,” Merrill pointed out. “Even before you found your clan—you did a Long Walk of your own, in a fashion. Escaping the Circle, surviving Kirkwall, it’s different than our history of course, but most Dalish don’t get closer than words and tales”

“And of course you spent two years and change as their First proper. That’s not a short time, falon, and they won’t discount it. Plus all the work you did to help in Wycome—you saved their lives—“

“—which wouldn’t have been in danger if not for me—“

“And you saved Ellana,” Merrill continued as if Neria hadn’t spoken. “Your Seeker found the Cure and you helped her develop and test it safely and you brought Ellana truly back to all of us.”

“Anyone would have done the same,” Neria said quietly. The remnants of guilt surrounding Ellana’s ordeal still coiled like a snake ready to strike in her gut. Even now—saved, Merrill said, but there were outbursts and the occasional lack of control and she would never be the same.

“Anyone didn’t. You did. But that makes it sound like you’re earning a place and that wasn’t my point. You’ve always had a place.”

Something like shame shadowed Merrill’s face and she frowned. “It’s different when you’re raised in a clan, because everyone believes the same things and you feed agreement off each other. We tell our children: ‘they forgot Andraste called Shartan brother.’ But most Dalish have forgotten that Shartan called her sister in return.”

“When I moved to the alienage, and with all our rebuilding efforts across Ferelden and the Marches, I realized something I never would have if I stayed with my clan—if the Dalish want to preserve the People’s culture, maybe we should start with remembering who the People are.”

“Even with the Dread Wolf’s recruitment, there are so many elves left in cities or with the College, many with human lovers. But it will be harder for them to walk up and say ‘let me in’ than it will be for you to walk in, invited, and set a new precedent.”

Merrill encased Neria’s hand in both of hers and squeezed sympathetically. “You are right, lethallin, but you are also wrong. There will be people who spurn you for your history and your choices—but if they never face their hypocrisy, they will never learn. It is not a reason to stay away altogether.”

Her reassurance didn’t ease the knot of anxiety in Neria’s chest, not really. But it hollowed out the worries creeping up her throat and gave her concern room to breathe. She ran her tongue over her teeth and one of her ears twitched flat against her head.

“But what about…y’know. I’m not even sure—should we even tell them? How could we possibly? But how could we not? Maker next time I see Solas I’m going to wring his stupid neck.”

“I’ll help,” Merrill agreed. “Your hands are too small to do it alone, anyhow.”

This time, Neria’s laugh was genuine. Some of the stress melted from her shoulders in the way only Merrill could make it and she rolled onto her side, laying her head in her friend’s lap.

Calloused fingertips pressed against the shaved hair around Neria’s ears and cool healing magic seeped into her temple, easing a headache she hadn’t even registered yet.

“Ma serannas,” she murmured. Her eyes drifted shut as Merrill continued to rub soft circles against her skin.

“It will be…difficult, of course. But the Arlathvhen is for sharing information and lore—to keep it alive. To compare what one clan has found with the others and find the cross-section of truth. That’s what they’ve always taught.”

She paused. “Well, that, and reconnecting and switching mages and celebrating. Oh, and so much delicious food, the hand pies and soups and—“

Neria coughed.

“—and that’s not relevant here.” Merrill grinned sheepishly. “Sorry. I was going to say, we should hold them to that claim. If we’re going to share and preserve our history, we can’t sanitize it to our liking. We have to take the bad truth and reclaim it for a better future.”

“You make it sound so simple.” Neria reluctantly opened her eyes, feeling very much like a cat as she curled her toes in the fire-warmed fur and blinked blearily up at Merrill. “But I don’t even know how we would start that conversation.”

“‘Oh dhea, lethallen, your entire religion and history is built on a lie?’”

“If that’s your plan, definitely count me out.” Neria snorted. “I’d rather tell Josie and Cullen we’re at war with the Qun again.”

“We’ll figure something out,” Merrill declared, clapping her hands firmly about Neria’s shoulders. “But we’ll never even get to that discussion if they can’t park their aravels.”

She pushed Neria back to sitting and shoved her lightly toward the desk. “I’ll make tea—you look over those seating charts and either find a different arrangement or come up with a plan to make Ghilain and Oranavra play nice.”

“Yes, serrah.” Neria snapped a lazy salute and set to a familiar pattern of scouring for common ground—the starting point of all compromise.

Compromise.

Maybe Merrill was right, she mused, cautiously cupping metaphorical hands about the timid spark of hope in her chest. Maybe the insurmountable was more approachable than she’d thought.

[hellas-himself]

ZevWarden Week 2022 Day 7: Seasons

Ahh and here we are at the end. @zevraholics thank you again for hosting this. I've enjoyed writing for it as much as I've enjoyed reading everyone's work and seeing their beautiful art. This one's very short but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

Fall 

Zevran was not fond of the cold. But there was something to be said about the way Leliel walked around with no cloak, basking in the cool autumn breeze. She enjoyed the crunch of leaves beneath her boots, and bringing Zevran what she considered ‘the prettiest’ leaf she could find. The most recent leaf was almost red in color. 

Did he keep them all pressed in a leather bound journal? 

That was no one else’s business but his own. 

He watched her dance around a fire, joining her until she kissed him. She tasted of brown sugar and cinnamon, of the spiced drink she had asked him to try. They carved a pumpkin together, Zevran unable to keep from laughing at Leliel’s disgust at removing the insides. She fell in love with a black cat and wanted so badly to keep it, but began to sneeze. Eyes red and itching, she had to let it go. 

Winter

He hated the cold. He hated being stuck indoors because of snow, of slipping on ice and touching cold floors when he woke up in the morning. But Leliel loved the cold. Loved being stuck inside as long as it was with him, under the covers or by the fire. She tried skating over ice but fell so much it put her in a foul mood.

The first snow of the season brought her joy and he found he loved the way her eyes sparkled as the snowflakes fell. He didn’t mind the cold if he was outside with her. He remembered it was Alistair that had shown her what a snowball was and since then, she never failed to start a snowball fight with him and their friends. He loved the way her nose and cheeks were flushed under all the layers she wore.  

And when the longest night of the year came upon them, he stayed up all night with her, waiting for the sun. It was something to marvel at, how much she delighted in something that happened everyday. He couldn’t fathom watching the world change from a window high in a tower. So he watched the rising of the sun utterly captivated by her and her smile, at the excitement she felt. 

Spring

Spring in Ferelden was still too cold for Zevran’s liking. But it was sunnier for longer in the day. They could do away with the layers of clothes and spend more time outdoors. That was, if the rains let up. But even that his warden loved. Back during the days they traveled across Ferelden to stop the Blight, she would dance in the rain or just stand there, looking up to the sky. Even that had been denied to her, the simple misfortune of getting caught in the rain and in that, he could not fault her. 

She loved to pick flowers and worry pretty rocks in her hand. Leliel loved waking up to birdsong each morning and breathing in the crisp, clean air.  Leliana had taught her how to weave crowns of flowers and rings made of grass. They were fragile and fleeting, but so precious to him he wore them with the same pride he wore gold and gems. 

Zevran had been nervous to give her flowers at first. Was it too much? Would she reject him, too? There hadn’t even been pretty roses to give her, either. So when Wynne had asked him to fetch her some blood lotus, Zevran decided to keep one for himself. It wasn’t the prettiest flower, but it was a flower still. He couldn’t even remember what words he’d mumbled to her before presenting the blood lotus to her. But she’d smiled, blushing so prettily before accepting it, admiring it as if she were holding rubies in her hands. Leliel had thanked him and became so shy, even going as far as kissing him on the cheek. 

And years later, Zevran did his best to find a different flower for her. Surprising her when he could, just to see her smile. The first time she had given him flowers, Zevran hadn’t known what to do with himself. He understood then, her reaction to the blood lotus. How sweet and thoughtful the gesture was. 

Summer 

Verano! Zevran’s favorite time of year. Though Ferelden’s summer was lacking, and was cold in some places, he found it more agreeable than the rest of the year. The first summer they spent in Antiva, Zevran had told Leliel of all the things they’d do together, the food they would eat. The music and dance. 

And yet… 

Where others became saddened in the darkness and cold of winter, it was the complete opposite for Leliel. He had no words to express what it meant for her to want to join him, because he loved summer and she wanted to love it, too. And she did enjoy their outings, the festivals and lighter clothing. She enjoyed walking through the markets or bathing in a river. But he noticed how the long days and heat wore her out, left her melancholy and at times irritable. 

But the first time he brought her to the beach, it was like magic. She had never seen the ocean like this, the clear water and near white sand. She had never picked seashells before or bathed in the sun utterly bare save for the gold rings and bracelets that adorned her. He loved the way her skin deepened in color in mere hours under the sun. He loved how freely she laughed and how playful she became. 

Sandcastles and being buried in the sand, swimming in the water and laughing when the waves sent them crashing onto shore. Things he had not done since he was a child, but had never enjoyed as much as he did then with her. 

[jaxxwrites4you]

Seeker of Truth (Or Cassandra Meets the Man She Thinks is a Liar, Except He Cannot Lie to Her.) - Soulmate AU one shot

He thought it was bullshit that you couldn’t lie to your soulmate. Sure, you shouldn’t lie about important things but what if you needed to lie for their safety? What if there were things better forgotten than dragged back to the surface? A lot of what ifs that he asked more because he disliked the idea of being laid so bare before a person without his consent.

Varric was incredibly lucky that when the Seeker had interrogated him he had no clue where Hawke was. No, it wasn’t until after he was already being dragged down to Fereldan by the woman that he found out where his friend was and at that point Cassandra thought asking him was pointless. If she did get the wild hair to ask him though, he would have no choice but to tell her. Finding out that the tall, strong and chiseled woman was his soulmate was not something that he had been able to deal with just yet. Between being interrogated and threatened, as well as being dragged from his home, he found it very difficult to be okay with that realization. Under any other circumstances he would have thanked the Maker for giving him an incredibly driven and fierce soulmate, someone who unlike his previous entanglement, would choose him over anyone else.

Andraste’s ass he was worried if he told her that he was her soulmate she would actually stab him this time. No, he would go and tell the Divine what happened and then he would head back to Kirkwall, where he wouldn’t have to worry about being an even bigger disappointment to the Seeker.

***

Cassandra thought it was rather practical that you could not lie to your soulmate, up until she realized who her soulmate was. The dwarf was infuriating and beyond that she was certain he was lying to her. Which meant one of two things: One, it was possible to have an unrequited soulmate and two, she couldn’t lie in retaliation. No one knew enough about the soulmate connection to know if the first thing was possible but if it was she felt as though it was a punishment on her part. She would never have someone who was meant for her, made for her, and if she ever let Varric know he would never let her live it down after everything she had done to him. That was the other thing that was… frustrating about this whole situation. She had been quite terrible to him when they first met, threatening him and stabbing his book, punching him. The Seeker could continue to list all the things he might hold against her, but she didn’t need the help feeling worse about the situation than she already did. 

The whole situation became even more confusing as the two of them became friends of a sort, even helping each other after the avalanche at Haven. Leliana had already figured out what was going on, even before they headed back to Fereldan, but other than that Cassandra had told only one other person of her issue. Bia Trevelyan had proven themself a very good friend and they had been concerned about the woman’s foul mood after learning that Varric had sent for Hawke. The mage had noticed that her level of anger was far different than any they had seen before, especially when the Seeker and the rogue were actually starting to get along. When they asked, she had decided that the Inquisitor deserved the truth. Bia had looked surprised at first but then it was like a realization had dawned on them, an odd and knowing glint in their eyes after the fact. 

It was nearly two weeks before Cassandra and Varric spoke again, just before they were set to travel with Bia out to Crestwood to meet up with Hawke’s warden friend. The mage had rather sneakily managed to use her love of Varric’s books as a way to get them to apologize to one another. The Nevarran warrior was grateful for it though, especially when the dwarf managed his usual type of humor over her excitement to read the newest chapter in Swords and Shields. It had been difficult to see him looking so down or to know she was the reason he was leaving a room as she entered. Their relationship was still on the mend and things were still tentative but there was some relief in knowing it wasn’t as damaged as she thought.

***

Bia wished they would just talk, actually talk, because they would probably realize what the other had been holding back. They tell Cullen as much, unable to hide their thoughts on the matter when he asks. Their Commander, their soulmate, tells them that the two are both so stubborn it might not be that easy. They’re willing to take that risk.

***

“Listen, Spitfire, you know I respect you.” Varric started, eyebrows furrowed, “But I would appreciate it if you didn’t bring Cassandra on this one. Please.”

He’s been dealing with enough as it is, helping Hawke get back to Fenris and tearing his publisher a new one after finding out how well his books do in Orlais. When Bianca had shown up he’d felt his heart fall into his stomach, which only worsened when Bia said Cassandra would be part of the group going to help at Vallamar. Maker’s breath did the Inquisitor have it out for him after he’d told them off for digging into his love life? He’d avoided talking about Bianca when the Seeker had interrogated him, but only just. He’d felt that he was toeing the line of what was safe to say but he’d managed, now he might have no choice but to reveal that information. 

“Try to understand Varric; Bull and the Chargers are out on a mission currently,” Bia replied, “And Blackwall requested to be part of the guard going with Josephine on her meeting in Denerim. Cass is the only warrior we have right now.”

Well… shit.

***

Cassandra had been polite in her reaction to Bianca’s betrayal, but the fact that she had been able to lie to Varric meant she was not his soulmate. Even with how upset said dwarf was, it had been a relief when the Seeker realized that, although that shouldn’t be what she’s thinking about at this moment. Nonetheless when they leave Vallamar, there are no goodbyes to the dwarven woman, especially not after she threatened the Inquisitor. Varric had told her off for that and Cassandra felt a small bit of pride in knowing how loyal Varric was to Bia and what they were doing. It was at camp that evening that the Seeker gained an important piece of information, but not one she had ever expected. The Inquisitor and Sera had already gone to their tents, the soldiers had just switched out watch shifts and it was quiet. She watched as Varric wrote, focused on whatever it was, as he sat across the fire from her and she wondered what it might be like to have his focus directed at her. A thought that made her face flush despite herself and Cassandra was grateful to the Maker that he did not look up at such an inopportune moment.

“Whatever you’re writing must be important Varric, I do not think I have ever heard you be quiet for this long before.” she stated, the quip only meant to instigate a conversation. The look of surprise on the dwarf’s face told her he had not expected a joke, certainly not from her.

“Why Seeker, are you making a joke at my expense?” He teased, his shoulders relaxing a bit, “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“You might be surprised by the things I am capable of, if you cared to pay attention.” Cassandra retorted dryly, “I do not hate you Varric, I would hope that despite all the problems we have had we are friends now, aren’t we?”

The look of surprise on his face was a pleasant change from the anger she had seen earlier, she felt a small smile spread across her own lips, pleased that she was not the one he was upset with for once.

“We are.”

He said it so softly she almost missed it, but she catches it and him, realizing he had said that without meaning to. Like he had been compelled to answer her. He can’t look her in the eye for the rest of their trip back to Skyhold.

***

“You were not lying when you said you didn’t know where the Champion was.”

It is a statement and not a question, there is a certainty in the Seeker’s voice and he knows that she knows. He’d managed to avoid her since his slip up at camp that one night, but Bia had told him he couldn’t keep that up forever. Spitfire was probably the whole reason she had known when and where to find him, between them and Nightingale it wouldn’t have been difficult to figure out.

“I told you I wasn’t” He replied, “I didn’t lie about anything you asked me, Seeker.”

She frowned, brows knitted together, “Yes, well, I suppose I was trying to convince myself you were because that would be easier to deal with.”

There’s a moment of silence before she speaks up again.

“I thought it would be easier to think that than to face the reality that I had been terrible to you.” she paused, taking a deep breath, “And I was certain you would hate me even if I told you I was certain I was your soulmate. I did not lie to you about anything during the interrogation you know.”

Varric had expected anger or that she could not see the two of them being successful soulmates, not that she had thought he hated her. Oh. Oh.

“Andraste’s flaming ass we’re both idiots,” He mumbled, “I thought you hated me Seeker, thought you deserved better than some short rogue who couldn’t even keep his friends safe.”

The woman in front of him laughed, a full and throaty noise he decided immediately that he loved, “I suppose we could have avoided this issue if we had just talked. We are both idiots, but there are worse people to be a fool with.”

When she walks across the room in just a few long strides, hand curling around his tunic collar, leaning down to place a chaste kiss against his lips everything seemed to fall into place. Nothing had felt this right before and he was certain that as long as she stayed with him it would stay this way.

***

The next morning when Cassandra and Varric share breakfast in the Main Hall, both wearing all too soft smiles, Bia felt themself grin. Those two were just another reminder of how overcoming hardship was worth it, of how this world was worth saving. They’d have to make sure there was a world left, because Maker be damned they wanted to be the Maid of Honor.

[nirikeehan]

"lilo n. a friendship that can lie dormant for years only to pick right back up instantly, as if no time had passed since you last saw each other." for thalia and varric?

Thank you!!! I've never written Varric before but he and Thalia were RIDE OR DIE so this is long overdue. I present some more "getting the band back together" nonsense I dreamed up when high on Dreadwolf hype.

For @dadrunkwriting

Word Count: 956

---

“How’s Bianca?” Thalia asked.

Varric stifled a weary sigh. “Oh, deadly as ever.”

“I meant the person, not the crossbow.” 

“So did I.” Varric smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. “How many years has it been since we’ve last seen each other?”

“Too many, truth be told.” 

“I agree. Yet I’m to believe you only wanted to have lunch and talk about my sordid love life?” 

Thalia looked down, chastised. Her mouth worked several times before she tried speaking again. “I received a raven from Leliana. Reports of activity in one of the regions we’ve been monitoring.” A long pause. “It’s him.” 

Expecting these words did nothing to soften the blow. “You’re sure?” 

Thalia nodded, taking a deep breath. “Pretty sure, yeah.” 

They sat on a sunny balcony overlooking Kirkwall’s harbor — his private cliffside villa, purchased a few years into his tenure to give him an easy exit from the stresses of running the city. Varric studied the woman seated across from him. The years had smoothed out the roundness of her face into graceful high cheekbones. She wore her hair short these days, soft waves brushing against her jaw — easier to manage than the elaborately braided updos, Varric supposed. The tattoo of the Ostwick Circle still decorated one eye, as it always would: the symbol of a bygone era.

In some ways, it felt as if no time had passed at all since they had last seen each other. Varric recalled the ostentation of the Winter Palace, her exuberant excitement about being summoned to the Exalted Council, the promise to show her around Kirkwall now that he was Viscount. The invitation had stood, and stood, and Varric expected perhaps never to see her. Her husband hated the place, after all, and for good reason.

“What’s Curly think about all this?” 

With one hand, Thalia folded the napkin on the table in front of her in half, then quarters. Deftly. She’d had a lot of practice. A rage simmered in Varric’s gut. 

“Cullen thinks I should call everyone together for a war council.” 

“Of course he does.” Varric respected Cullen, even liked him, but he had the mind of a military man, and those sort got restless in peace time. “How is he, by the way?” 

Thalia met his eyes and looked away, too quickly. “Fine.” 

“Just ‘fine’?” Varric raised an eyebrow. 

Thalia shot him a pointed look.

 Varric raised his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, you got to ask about Bianca.”

“And you deflected.” 

Varric sighed. “That I did.” If Thalia did not wish to discuss her marriage, then so be it, though Varric could not help but worry. Was it the lyrium again, he wondered, or something else? “So is that why you’re here? To ask me to this so-called war council, despite there being no war?”

“No visible war. Yet.” 

“Hard to fight an enemy you can’t see,” Varric remarked. “Harder still to get people to fight it, when there’s no Inquisition left.” 

Thalia inhaled, and kept his gaze steadily. 

Varric narrowed his eyes. “You’re kidding.”

“Cullen thinks tapping manpower from Kirkwall is the best immediate course of action. Given your role as viscount, and I’m told the captain of the city guard is an old friend of his—”

“Aveline, yes. I’m familiar with their prior working relationship.” Varric paused, watching her, trying to pick his words carefully. He was the wordsmith-turned-politician, of course — it should be easy. Yet he couldn’t help but see Thalia as he had those early days in Haven: a confused kid in way over her head, trying desperately to rise to the occasion.

 “I’m hearing an awful lot about what Cullen thinks,” he said slowly, “and not so much about what you think.” 

Thalia took a slow breath, her blue-eyed gaze slipping from him and out over the sparkling bay. When she spoke, her voice was quiet, but flinty.

“I promised him I would change his mind.”

Varric knew they were no longer speaking of Cullen. The simmering fury within him spiked. “Men like him don’t change their minds.”

She jerked her head back to face him. “It worked with Thom Rainier.”

“Rainier was in love with you,” Varric said, as gently as he could. “Solas only loves himself.”

To his surprise, tears welled in her eyes. “Varric. I have to try.” 

This was what he’d been afraid of, since those terrible final days he’d spent fighting beside her, all the hopping through those damned eluvians. He’d watched the anchor spiral out of control, fearing she only had hours left to live. Remembered the stricken look on Rainier’s face as he cradled her motionless body, arm severed at the elbow. 

“It doesn’t have to be your fight,” he heard himself say. “You gave and gave and gave for Thedas. Let someone else bear the burden for awhile.”

“Who?” Thalia asked. 

“I don’t know,” Varric admitted. “But trust me, the realm is teeming with people who want to play hero. That’s why my action novels always sell.” 

Thalia stared at her beautifully plated salad. She’d barely touched a bite. “He said he’d cherish the chance to be wrong again,” she said softly. 

Varric snapped, “Thalia, it’s not your fucking job to teach him the rest of us are people too.”

Thalia said nothing, could not meet his eyes. In the silence, Varric ached to hug her, but feared it would be unwelcome. 

“So,” she said at last, wiping her cheeks with the back of her remaining hand, “you’ll be there when I call the meeting?” 

“With bells on,” Varric said, without hesitation, and hated himself. Here we go again. 

“I’m glad.” Thalia’s mouth twitched into a melancholy grin. “Any chance you can get in touch with Hawke?”

[immobiliter]

okay my spoilery thoughts on dragon age absolution are under the cut! do not click if you haven’t watched yet!

on the whole, i found it surprisingly enjoyable! the show probably isn’t that accessible if you’re not already a da fan, i feel like none of the lore actually gets explained at any point ( nor the references to dai ), so its widespread appeal might be kinda meh, but as a fan i really really liked it and you can tell it was made by those who are actually involved with these games unlike other video game adaptations

of course bioware never miss an opportunity to throw a mage extremist/traitor in lmaoo. never trust a mage but that added some interesting layers to hira even if it was kinda sad about her and miriam in the end. i was really hoping that miriam’s decision to choose queer love in the end would be rewarded but alas :(

qwydion and tassia were the best characters imo, tassia in particular was sooo interesting as a tevinter knight commander who actually opposes blood magic and wants to make tevinter better. she also deserves way better than the magister dude. i hope we see both of them again in dreadwolf

i really liked the orlesian and lord of fortune! they were cute!

fairbanks :(((( he deserved better especially as the show had us thinking he was the traitor for most of the show. also that he was voiced by matthew mercer made it all the more sad when he was only in it for two episodes lmao

the references to the inquisition!! cass!!! leliana!!!! the quick two second glimpse of josie!!!! it all made me very, very happy

and last but not least: dfkdhdjfkf meREDITH. i’m so excited for what this means, not just for dreadwolf and the implications of the crimson knight and red templars setting their sights on tevinter, but also the implications on kirkwall. that’s a looooot of red lyrium, varric i hope you’re focused on what’s going on back home while helping out our next da protagonist

[heniareth]

Here's that ask I promised :D Some more questions for the OC ask meme <3

What is your character's biggest realtionship flaw? Has that flaw ever destroyed relationships for them before?

Companion they are closest to and why?

Thoughts on the Dalish?

What biases does your character have? (This can be in favor or against)

How does your OC react in stressful situations?

What do they like to ridicule and/or what do they find stupid?

Does your OC have recurring themes in their dreams?

What is your OCs proudest moment?

Did you create the OC to be like yourself, did they end up being like yourself, or are they very different from you?

(These are a lot again, it is so hard to hold back xD So take your time and no pressure as always :) Just excited to get to know more about your Astala <3)

Thank you for the ask!! I had this sitting for forever, life has kept me busy, but I'm so excited to give this a go XD And to delve into some aspects of Astala that I haven't given much thought yet, so that's exciting.

What is your character's biggest realtionship flaw? Has that flaw ever destroyed relationships for them before?

Astala's biggest flaw when it comes to relationships is her inability to let go of people. On a positive note, this trait manifests as a very strong loyalty. On the negative side, it will lead her to cry after relationships that have ended and pour over them to try and find out what went wrong. It can also put her or other people she cares about in danger; especially in her position as the de facto leader of the companions, this could quickly lead to the loss of a whole unit (aka the three companions you can take with you on missions + the Warden). Luckily, she has Morrigan and Alistair (and Sten and Zevran) who can and will point out when a course of action is likely to put them in more danger than they already are.

Companion they are closest to and why?

Ooof, this is a tough one. Ironically, the romanceable four. Alistair is practically second-in-command, even though I imagine he’d protest at the title. They work closely together and are therefore quite close. Astala admires and respects Morrigan, even when her opinions and advice goes against most things Astala believes in. She’s the kind of friend you know would hide a body for you. Leliana is a friend in the more “common” sense. She and Astala both have a thing for nice clothing, their morals are similarly aligned, and they just get along in general. And then of course there’s Zevran, who’s Astala’s love interest. Funnily enough, they both started off annoying the hell out of each other over various petty reasons, and it takes them some time to really see each other for who they are. And from that point on there’s no turning back and they fall hard.

Thoughts on the Dalish?

The Dalish are an interesting subject. Astala hadn't met any previous to the Blight (although her cousin Shianni imagined her dad, who she never knew, to be a strong Dalish warrior). So to see them live these relatively normal lives when she encountered Zathrian's clan was... odd. But on the other hand, their lives were everything but normal because they spoke elvish, worshipped the Creators, had halla and could go wherever they wanted. So the first thing Astala did when she got there was ask a metric ton of questions about everything. On the other hand, the way some of the Dalish talk about the city elves makes her sad. They have a point , the city elves would probably treat one of the Dalish similarly, and she understands the distrust in anything that so much as smells of humans; but she still finds the divide tragic. She also thinks the Dalish are a bit too proud for their own good; but then again, how else are you going to defend yourself against a world that threw an Exalted March against your forebears' homeland?

What biases does your character have? (This can be in favor or against)

Astala is generally biased in favour of elves, and in favour of whoever she percieves to be the underdog in a given situation. This can lead her to get duped (it hasn’t yet in my current playthrough, but it probably will at some point).

How does your OC react in stressful situations?

When in stressful situations, Astala generally tries to remain in control of it. To do so, she relies heavily on whatever companions she has at the moment and the resources available, both in the environment and on her person. She tends to try and talk things out, but also to make rash judgements, which uuuuuh can backfire (she's quick to draw her blades, for instance, and that does not exactly help to deescalate situations). She also has a tendency to just seize control. She also will give orders and will expect others to follow them. The companions look to her as a leader, so that works out fine. In Redcliffe, however, she did find that the militia men would listen to the mayor, and not to her. That was frustrating for both parties.

What do they like to ridicule and/or what do they find stupid?

Human nobles. Just the whole package. From their fondness of dogs and their dainty dances (which her father, who was a bann's servant, would describe to her and her cousins) to their pointy-ended shoes and their petty grievances (because when you have enough money to boss other people around, all your grievances are petty, right?). A surefire way to keep the younger kids entertained was to pretend to be a noble, let them play servants, and have them wreak havoc upon you as they got orders wrong on purpose and "stole" the "noble's" belongings. Afyer the Blight, that fondness to ridicule sadly wanes away and leaves mostly frustration in its wake.

Does your OC have recurring themes in their dreams?

Astala is a terribly heavy sleeper. If she dreams, she doesn't remember it come morning. She can therefore sadly not report any recurrent themes in her dreams as of now.

What is your OCs proudest moment?

Apart from the power trip in the Fade (she walked out smiling and continued to smile until Uldred turned into a pride demon), it was probably when she got her first job. She was 14 at the time and overheard some boys talking about how a merchant was expecting a big shipment and looking for new help. Up until then, she had been trying to get a job as a servant like her father, to no avail. On a whim she followed the boys, and lined up with the other hopeful candidates in front of the merchant's warehouses for a try-out (a selection process entailing an unpaid day of work). She proved herself to be strong enough to lift and carry crates, small and nimble enough to climb to where others couldn't reach, and above all she got extremely lucky. She was called back, first for one month, then for a trimester, then for one year and for another. And while Cyrion would have liked his daughter to have an easier and less dangerous job, he was proud right alongside her when she brought the first coins she had earned home.

Did you create the OC to be like yourself, did they end up being like yourself, or are they very different from you?

I created Astala's first version (which I mentioned in this post) based on a character that was very much an ideal; strong, kind, and above all, brave and adventurous. That first heroic version then got put through all the trials and tribulations of the story, and I was very much going with my gut instinct and not with a predetermined idea of the character when I tokk her decisions. So basically, this first versions had a good chunk of my morals and priorities. After the Deep Roads, that first version started getting depth; she reacted very strongly to having to shoulder the responsability of chosing a new king for Orzammar, for Ferelden, and defeating the Archdemon. From that point on, I started exploring why that reaction might have been so strong. Astala as she is now is the product of that exploration (during which she acquired some fears and pain points she shares with me. Examples are the fear of messing up, the sometimes blind loyalty or the need to shoulder all the responsability). Bottom line: she definitely has parts that are mine, some of which she acquired over time, but she's her own person. She's not me.

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That was a lot of fun!! Thank you so much for the ask and sorry for the delay >.< But I'm very happy I finally came around to it, I always love answering these

[forystr]

how does mouse meet fenesvir and his sister? 💙

this is gonna be so heavy with the worst doodles in the world but im excited to tell the story!! im bolding the names so its easy to keep track for me writing this hehe

fenesvir and danyya were raised as siblings, but technically they're only step siblings. fen and danyya's dads were old paramours in their youth who rekindled their relationship later in life! but they've always been treated like twins. inseperable and loyal to each other. but, once they both reached their later teens, they set off (seperately) into the world to do their own things and make a name for themselves. they only meet again years and years later during the inquisition.

danyya actually goes to kirkwall during this time; (whilst fenesvir renacts his own flavour of vigalante justice over orlais with the moniker "the wolf of the dales") and she hangs out around act 3 with merrill. this is technically the first time she meets mouse, who has very recently left his tal-vashoth group and is working as a doctor in the city. he works at a nasty, beer-stained table at the back of the hanged man because he cant afford any nicer lodgings, which means the hawke crew probably run into him quite a bit. danyya leaves the city after act 3, but mouse stays, and then follows the mages/templars/chantry to the conclave.

at the start of inquisition, mouse has been wokring as a medic at the conclave dealing with the explosion. he's the one who finds bhaltair underneath all of that rubble in the first place. so to set the scene, at the time of inqusuiton, mouse has been working for the inquisition for only a few weeks.

now, fenesvir has actually been a part of the inquisition the longest. he'd been scouted by leliana as a captain/second-in-command for cullen in the management of forces, before the conclave even began. he hasn't heard from danyya and doesn't know who mouse is. mouse is hired by the inquisition after he saves bhaltair from dying in the rubble.

danyya has been living a pretty solitary life up until this point, after kirkwall. by the time bhaltair becomes inquisitor and reaches skyhold, danyya doesn't actually know anything about the inquisition. by chance, she meets a wounded knight called jana, who is a devoted holy warrior and desperate to meet the herald of andraste. unfortunatly, shes mortally wounded, so danyya drags jana the five mile hike to skyhold castle.

finally making it, jana is finally delivered to skyhold. everyone makes a fuss, and bhaltair comes hurtling down the hall to help. mouse is called immediately, and he gingerly takes an unconcious jana into surgery. she lives, and goes on to form one of the best sibling-esque friendships with bhaltair.

mouse heals jana well, and checks danyya over and heals any wounds she'd gained during the desperate race against time. they share a moment, and danyya asks to stay and help the inquisition, and if he can teach her how to heal people better on the field. mouse says he can put a good word in to bhaltair, and that he'd love the company.

neither danyya nor fenesvir had expected the see the other that afternoon. fenesvir had spent the entire morning at the forward camps and had missed the entire commotion. the siblings embraced, vowing not to stray so far apart from each other ever again.

this was a lot more than you asked for im sorry! danyya and jana belong to my partner, @solsticeill0