#my lavellan at least very much looked up to and aspired to be like the emerald knights

[telanadasvhenan]

im quite unhinged for knight enchanter Lavellan and solas, bc to me they parallel the Emerald knights & their wolves. This is very red strings territory here but,

"Wolf and elf would fight together, eat together, and when the knights slept, wolves would guard them." sounds a little reminiscent of, "Lavellan sometimes came awake from dreams in which her lover watched her sadly from across an endless distance." i need to lie down

[commie-eschatology]

Annulment at Ostwick

Summary: Trevelyan kills her mentor, Senior Enchanter Lydia, as the mage rebellion begins.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29683359. Shoutout @5lazarus for the “this is systemic, not personal line” lol. tw/cw: somewhat graphic depiction of violence near the end. 

Judging by the commotion outside her chambers, Senior Enchanter Lydia of the Ostwick Circle imagines it will not be much longer. The rebels, once her students, have nearly broken through the barrier; she holds no illusions about what will happen afterwards. She seals her final letter to Vivienne and hands it to her ravens. The world has gone mad, she only hopes her dear friend avoids the same fate as herself.

This rebellion has been brewing for a long time, since even before what happened in Kirkwall. For years, she has tried to avert this suicidal course of action. With Vivienne’s help, she even got the Ostwick Circle to formally declare neutrality after Fiona’s stunt at the White Spire. Lydia knows the Circle is imperfect, that is not a controversial observation, but what chance do her people have against the entire Templar Order? She knows how this rebellion will inevitably end, with witch hunts, mass executions, and the widespread use of the Rite of Tranquility. When her people are eventually forced back into the Circle, she’s certain all political rights they have earned will be revoked; eight hundred years of careful advocacy swept away by the rash actions of a few miscreants.

She hears the barrier outside her chamber break. Lydia stays sitting at her desk, quickly adjusting her hair and posture. One can never truly be ready for death, but she goes through her mental checklist one last time. She’s sent instructions to Vivienne and made her peace with the Maker. She sends a quick prayer to the heavens one more time just to be sure. Trevelyan steps through the door, armed with a staff. Lydia sees other students behind her, guarding the door.

“Hello Enchanter Trevelyan,” she greets, trying to keep her voice neutral. There was a time she called her protege by her first name, but so much has changed since she fell in with the rebels. Growing apart from Tara is just one more casualty of this madness.

Both say nothing at first. Lydia looks up at her protege and feels like she should say something wise, provide some parting words of advice for her daughter by choice. Instead she just says, “well this is a state of affairs.”

“Indeed. Now get up,” Trevelyan orders, staff at the ready. Lydia slowly raises her hands above her head and stands. She looks up at her once protege and thinks of that terrified child brought to this very office, all those years ago. Tara has grown so much since, Lydia isn’t sure if she should be proud or disappointed.

A week ago, with Vivienne’s help, she had forced a neutrality vote through the Ostwick Circle. It was her hope that this victory would protect Tara and the others, even as the rest of Thedas fell into chaos.  She had expected a response from the Liberati, but not something as appalling as this. Apparently, the Maker does have a sense of irony. She knows anger at her Creator is a sin, but she hopes He’ll understand in this case.

Tara raises the staff, its crystal glowing with mana. It won’t be long now. She cannot detect any regret on her protege’s face, just rage and determination. One might expect that she would feel the slightest bit of sadness at murdering the woman who raised her, Lydia thinks. But bitterness is also a sin, she reminds herself, and she’s quickly running out of time to make penance.

Their last fight after the vote had been particularly tempestuous, even by their standards. Trevelyan had shouted endless slogans at her, “the people united will never be defeated!” and other trite nonsense that she should be intelligent enough to reject. “The slogan retired, will never be repeated!” had been her response, she can’t help but be a little proud of that line. It is such a tragedy that their relationship has devolved into shouting platitudes. She knows Tara, her brilliant protégé, is smarter than this, and wishes she wouldn’t throw her entire future away on a suicidal crusade. There is, however, nothing more she can do now.

To her surprise, the blast from Trevelyan’s staff hasn’t come yet. Lydia cautiously takes a step forward, hands still in the air, Tara flinches backwards. Perhaps there is some regret, Lydia thinks with some relief, at least she did not completely fail as a mother.

“For whatever it’s worth, I am glad it’s you,” she says. Lydia has always found deathbed reconciliations trite, but what choice does she have?

“Now that’s manipulative,” Tara accuses.

“You believe I’m being manipulative? Tara, you came here to murder me.”

“You made this rebellion necessary. We have nothing , not even the college of enchanters anymore. You’d rather us be trapped in a fucking prison forever, like good little mages. I... we will not grovel to our oppressors any longer. Our people have no choice but to fight for the same freedom as anyone else.” More platitudes, she hopes they’re comforting to her.

“ I made this rebellion necessary? So it follows my own murder is my fault then?” Lydia scoffs, “and you accuse me of being manipulative.”

Tara lowers her staff and runs her hand through her hair, a nervous tick she knows well. Lydia is almost tempted to try something but what good would that do? “I’ve been trapped here, in this fucking tower, my entire life. What other choice do I…” her voice breaks, “we are far past the point of reconciliation. For non-violent civil disobedience, or whatever you loyalists tell us to try over and over again. Your neutrality vote saw to that.”

Trevelyan paces back and forth as her speech reaches its crescendo She gestures to sounds of fighting outside the door, “We will break the Circle or die trying. Our people have no other choice.”

“I have no desire to relitigate our many political debates,” Lydia is so tired of wasting her breath, can no longer listen to the cliche platitudes anymore. “I am sorry it has come to this.” It feels as if they are just reciting the same lines back and forth, as they have for years.

“It didn’t have to be like this.” Tara says, Lydia sees her eyes swell with tears, “if you had just listened, if you hadn’t…” She wipes the tears from her face. “Fuck,” she says.

Lydia steps forward cautiously into her space, slowly she wraps her arms around her adopted daughter. Tara freezes in response, but then cautiously responds in kind. It’s awkward and stilted at first, Lydia isn’t sure where exactly they stand. Deathbed reconciliations may be trite, but it’s better than nothing at all she supposes.

Tara leans further into her embrace. “I should note that this is systemic, not personal,” she says.

Lydia laughs, despite everything. “Good to know.” Tara wraps her arms more tightly around her, but holds onto her staff. Lydia is proud of her survival instincts, how she has learned to never let her guard down. She likes to think Tara will survive outside the Circle, won’t end up dead in a ditch somewhere, but she knows the danger she faces. She’ll be an apostate, hunted her entire life. It’s a terrifying thought.

Lydia holds Tara just a bit closer, while she still can. She’s given birth to two children in her life, both taken by the templars. She knows more than any the importance of chosen family. It’d be a lie to say she has no regrets, who wouldn’t when your adopted daughter is your murderer? She reminds herself to push down the bitterness, and try to dwell on the good memories, before the end.

“This is so melodramatic,” Tara sniffles into her shoulder.

“You are melodramatic, love. Just lean into it.” Tara laughs through her tears. Neither says a word for a time. Eventually, Tara slowly draws back, and once more readies her staff. Lydia holds her head high, she’s always aspired to die with dignity.

“Clan Lavellan in Wycome took in apostate refugees from Kirkwall. You may wish to seek them out,” she says. Those elves have a tendency to meddle, to use the rebel mages as proxies in their own heathen war against the Chantry. She can only hope they will, at least, keep her daughter safe.

“I know,” says Tara, “who do you think gave us our weapons?” The thought of Dalish elves supplying weapons into the Circle is appalling, Lydia curses herself for missing that. She knew Tara to be conspiring with Liberati and perhaps even the Mage Underground, but not with elven terrorists like the Lavellan clan. If the elves and rebel apostates are both working towards a common goal, Lydia fears this rebellion is far beyond the threat she anticipated. She looks at Trevelyan and wonders what else she does not know.

Tara’s face is wet from tears, her eyes are red and swollen, and there’s a raw cut near her right eye, she imagines from a templar blade. The rage of an apostate radiates from her very being. Lydia begins to fear not just for Tara’s safety, but what she might do once she is free.

“For the rebellion,” she says.  The blast of fire hits her in the chest, and knocks her back into the desk. Her back slams into the wood, splinters embed themselves in skin, and she falls gracelessly onto the floor. Her whole body burns, and she sees embers on her robes. But she still is, as far as she can tell, alive.

“Shit,” Tara says, as the fire drains from her staff, “templar smiting. Fuck, uh,” she begins to frantically look around the office. Lydia can hear fighting outside. “Do you, uh, have a knife?” she asks earnestly.

“How did you fuck this up?” Lydia snaps, “You come here to murder me and you can’t even, fuck,” she yells in pain as the burning grows more intense. “Just hurry…”

Before she can finish, Lydia screams in pain, as she feels the impact of Tara’s staff against her head. Her vision goes blurry, the thoughts become disjoined, her world shrinks into nothingness.

[heartslogos]

newfragile yellows [846]

“Oh, it's just you.”

Abelas graces Ellana with a deeply unimpressed look as he gestures for her to take a seat in front of him. Solas is sitting at his desk pretending neither of them exist. Ellana glares at him.

“I told you that I would alert your guardian,” Solas says, not looking up from the essays he’s grading. Ellana knows they’re essays because Solas only ever assigns essays for homework. “It’s only logical for anyone who knows Alim that he would seek out guidance from his sister in the matter. And everyone nows how Neria is. Neria’s solution to Alim’s problem will to be to send Abelas.”

“You could have made more of an effort not to get caught,” Abelas cuts in, arms folded across his broad chest as he pins Ellana to her chair with his eyes. “Surana was cackling like some kind of fiend intermittently the entire day she heard about this.” Abelas clicks his tongue in annoyance. “I should have attempted my own escape before she could officially assign me to check in on you.”

“Well all three of you know me so you know nothing happened.”

“You scared Alim Surana,” Abelas says. “And you piqued Neria Surana’s interest. Which made her send me over here to check in on you and, presumably, to make me miserable.”

“Too late, you were born miserable.”

Abelas turns to Solas, “How have you not expelled her yet?”

“Compared to Neria she is a lamb,” Solas answers calmly, “She’s a while to go before she reaches Neria’s level of migraine. No, Lavellan, that is not a goal to aspire to.”

Ellana huffs, rolling her eyes.

“I thought they teach etiquette at this school.”

“They do, you should see her when she’s in public view,” Solas says, idly flipping between pages of an essay. “If she weren’t third in line for the throne I’d suggest she abscond with a theater troupe. It seems to be her true calling.”

Abelas sighs, turning back to Ellana.

“The real issue isn’t that you were caught doing something most would view as scandalous and detrimental to your reputation.”

“It isn’t?”

“No. You’re right. The three of us know you very well and we know that the kind of salacious activities most would take away from this incident are not the kind you would have been after, and are not the sort you would have permitted to occur to your person.” Abelas closes his eyes, sighing. “The issue is that the transfer students are Qun. Or, on the surface at least, former Qun. Anyone with the ability to think deeply beyond the surface details of this incident will know that this is the real threat to you and your reputation. The third heir to the throne of the Dales should not be seen fraternizing with Qunari.”

“Former Qunari, and in some cases, only the children of former Qunari,” Ellana replies. “They came here for schooling, Abelas. They aren’t in Par Vollen or one of the occupied territories for a reason, I should think.”

“Regardless of the sincerity of their intentions in coming here, there’s a distinct lack of any kind of sincerity among those with critical thinking skills,” Abelas replies. “Your actions will reflect upon the house. It will appear as though the duchy has taken interest in the Qun. Your position as third after Alim is nebulous enough as is.”

“Please, as if the throne is ever going to actually get to me.”

“That’s what Neria said about herself, and look where she is now,” Abelas points out. “One never knows. Therefore one must always exercise caution. Now tell me what you learned.”

Ellana frowns and considers being obstinate and saying nothing at all.

But Abelas is a truly miserable person because, unfortunately, he is one of the only three people in the world who can wait her out. Not even Neria Surana can wait her out and maybe that’s why she sent Abelas. That and the fact that everyone knows Abelas is soft on her because she’s his favorite.

Unfortunately, she’s his favorite so he knows her like the back of his hand and can play her like a fiddle.

Ellana sighs, slumping a little.

“I spent most of the night talking with a Qunari named the Iron Bull. Well. That’s the name he chose for himself. He said he liked the sound of it,” Ellana says, conscious of how the scratch of Solas’ pen has slowed. “I mean. I did talk with a few of the others, but it was mostly the Iron Bull. He’s incredibly smart. I think his education is actually past the year he’s been assigned to while he’s here. We didn’t talk about what the education system was like — not in depth — so I’m not sure if it’s natural talent, private tutoring, or just a general acceleration of education within the Qun’s system itself. At first we were talking about how the rest of the girls and I had managed to sneak out and how we planned on getting back in.”

Ellana can’t help the little smile.

“And that just became a little game. I’d say part of the plan and he’d throw in a wild complication and I’d throw out an equally unconventional solution. It was just a back and forth. It was nice. We got to a point where a dragon was preventing us from entering the dorm when we got caught.” Ellana turns to Solas. “You can get me his class schedule, right? Because I need to find him to tell him how I’d get around the dragon. There would be casualties. But it’d be a necessary sacrifice. And I know exactly who to use for that.”

“I am not giving you the class schedule for this boy,” Solas says. “Go ask Professor Andruil. She’ll probably do it.”

“This school is a farce,” Abelas says, “And the faculty leaves much to be desired. No wonder Neria Surana thrived here.”

“You’re just mad because you went to the most austere, boring school in the entire country and never got to have any fun,” Ellana retorts. “May I go now? Professor Andruil’s got free period and I don’t want to waste any time.”

[moonmythology]

What it Feels Like to Be Human -- Chapter 4: A Wolf in the Distance

Synopsis: Athdhea Lavellan always wanted to find out what it means to be human. Becoming the Herald of Andraste taught her to be careful of what one wishes for. So far away from home, she finds herself drawn towards her Commander, despite their differences, and a mysterious elf, who has always been in her dreams. CullenxLavellanxSolas.

Chapter Overview: Solas grapples with his growing feelings for Athdhea--a girl he once saved, a woman who now bears his mark. While he hated this new world that he created, his burgeoning feelings for her is starting to make this world suddenly somewhat beautiful.

This has been posted on fanfiction.net and will be updated on AO3. 

He woke to a world where the dreams he knew did not exist.

His people had lost their cities and their villages. Humans treat them like stray animals. Worst of all, they had lost their dreams and clung to the very chains that he sought to break.

Once, walking in a human city, he was chased away as soon as its inhabitants realized that he had magic. For many people in this world, magic was a sin.

Like walking in a world of Tranquil, this world had nothing but death. So he sought to change it again.

And then he met her.

The first time he saw her was in a long dream. In his long slumber, he led this child and her baby sister through the Veil towards a mirror, one that led them near safety towards a nearby Dalish clan.

On the second time, he sought her out. At first, he did not know it was her. He merely wanted to find the mage with the mark who was found in the Conclave.

She was Dalish, and she probably grew up despising him. The words that he would use to describe her was: young, beautiful and dying. Her battle with death was hopeless because none but he could bear the mark and live. Poor thing, he thought. It was his orb that caused it, along with the deaths of so many others. True, he had caused the deaths of so many. One does not get to survive wars, lead rebellions and fight for freedom without some sacrifice, so he never understood why he didn't want her blood on his hands.

For days, she slept. He often wondered what the color of her eyes was. So he followed her in her dreams.

It was there that he recognized that little girl he once walked with. They walked alongside the same mirrors that walked through years ago, while she peppered him with questions: Is it more useful to have intelligence, common sense or wisdom? Can people's natures actually change? Is it possible to live lives without prejudice? What is power? What does freedom mean anyway? Whenever she asked about him or who he was, he always found a way to distract her. One time, he even introduced her to Wisdom. Both had lengthy conversations that he knew that she most likely would not remember, but would linger in that space between dreaming and waking.

And then, she woke up.

He guided her hand to close one rift.

And then she did it again on her own. And again.

With a gesture of her hand, she continually silenced ghosts and ushered lost spirits to where they belong. If such a person could carry the mark, a burden that he thought that only he could carry, everything he knew, everything he thought possible could change.

Her spirit was indomitable.

The version he met of her in this world was much different from the one he's met in her dreams. While the one he met previously was a little more open and carefree, the person he met in the world outside the Fade is slightly more reserved, more guarded. But then, he concluded that maybe because she had to live in the world of humans. Still, in those times when she is relatively at ease, that carefree side of hers would show. Because he wanted to see more of that person in her dreams, he became her friend in the waking world too.

It is simply wonderful to be liked for who one is. Not as Fen'Harel, but Solas. For a while, he realized that he had forgotten what friendship and affection felt like.

To live in this world with such a person, he thought, maybe this world can be beautiful. That thought frightened him more than anything.

"Solas!" she called, marching out of the Haven's open-air dance floor towards him. "By the Dread Wolf! What are you doing sulking over there?"

He snickered at her choice of expletives. Normally he was unnerved whenever anyone else said them, but there was always some sweet irony whenever she said them.

Her eyebrows lifted. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," he snickered. "But this is how I like to enjoy such fleeting celebrations such as these. Distance just makes things easier given certain inevitabilities."

"You mean the Elder One?"

He nodded. "You have now interfered with his plans twice. Once at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, and now again at Redcliffe. A being who aspires to godhood is unlikely to ignore such an affront. You should prepare yourself."

"And this is how I prepare myself." Her arms stretched out to the sky, the cold air became visible as she exhaled. "I breathe a bit."

"Time is not a luxury that everyone has."

"True. But not everyone has managed to time travel, and be given a chance to save the future."

"Are you certain you experienced time travel? Could it have been an illusion, a trick of the Fade?"

"I've been to the Fade," she said firmly. "I'd know it."

"Point taken," he agreed. "It is vital the Inquisition succeed to avoid the future you witnessed."

"I am surprised you are not more interested in your own future," she posited.

In truth, he had seen it in her dreams. The vision she saw of him was one who was weak and desperate, someone who could only rely on her to remedy his own failures. "I know enough. If that future happened then I—and Cassandra, Cullen and the rest—failed to stop this Elder One."

"This time we will not fail," she stated with much certainty that he almost believed her.

The music by the bonfire continued, but for a while they sat in silence, simply breathing. Her eyes turned to examine him, and he prepared for another onslaught of questions. She never did run out of questions.

But this time, it wasn't a question. "You know sometimes, Solas, when you look at me, it's as if you look beyond me—it is as if I seem like a ghost to you like I'm someone dying."

"Are you not the least bit afraid of dying?" he asked.

"Maybe," she admitted. "But we're all going there anyway. That makes living so much more precious. Hearing Cassandra's bellowing every single day, Sera's sniggering…Those times that drive me insane when I can't seem to wrap my head around what our Commander is thinking, or times like these when I just get to sit with you. To me, these are all precious."

He remembered similar words from Varric, in those conversations they had about the dwarven kingdoms and that story he told about the fisherman. Everything you build, it tears down, the Stone Child said. Everything you've got, it takes—and it's gone forever. The only choices you get are to lie down and die or keep going…That's as close to beating the world as anyone gets. All of them—these people who knew they were dying—seem to talk about struggling, about striving. Then he understood that it's all the effort that made life for them so precious. It's a concept that still seemed alien to him.

So he changed the subject. "Did you find the person you were looking for at Redcliffe?"

It was, of course, a loaded question. He knew that she was looking for him, and there's always that part of him that thought that maybe she knew that he's always been there for her. This time, he only looked like a person she knew.

"No," was the abrupt reply. "But I will find him. I don't care how long it takes. Because I know, everything he did for me, they all happened. Even if it was all in the Fade, even if everyone else tells me he's not real, he was real to me."

He opened his mouth to say something in reply, but the sound of battle horns interrupted him.

After that, everything went by so fast, but small moments slowed down in his eyes—the terror in her eyes as she first glimpsed the so-called Elder One and his army, the mages' battle cries, the whirring of the trebuchets, the race towards the Chantry as dragon fire consumed Haven's feeble structures of wood and hay, the Commander's stern pleading against what she had set out to do, the last look that she gave the Commander before the Chantry doors closed, the push to the last trebuchet, the way her voice cracked when she ordered them to leave, the snowy mountain falling down around them, and the Commander ordering everyone to move out while he begged the man to send out a search party.

She was alive. He was sure of it. He would have felt his own magic leave her if she did. His consciousness reached out to the Fade for recent memories. At first, all he could see was chaos. Spirits fled the confusion, and numerous deaths ruptured the Veil. And then he glimpsed her form standing as steadfastly as she could against the dragon and its master. Defiantly, she flung the last shot that shook the mountains, before falling to the depths below. The small spark that lit her hand was still there, fighting, enduring but slowly fading.

He couldn't lose her. That was the only thought on his mind as he slipped away from the weary caravan of survivors, and into the cold. With just a little bit of magic, his hands changed into paws. It was a form that he had not used for some time—a form that he did not want her to see. But time was of the essence. He needed to find her. So he pulled his nose down and sniffed.

Athdhea peered through the blizzard. There was no way one could tell which direction one should go.

A sharp pain continually shot through her arm and through her spine. She just narrowly escaped a darkspawn magister and an avalanche. The mark on her hand bore through every nerve in her body. As if it had a will of its own, it triggered an explosion decimating demons in the cave that she fled minutes ago. Theoretically, she knew that generating fire magic could keep her warm, but the explosion exhausted a lot of her physical and spiritual energy. Now it seems that the cold is harder to outrun.

Her steps slowed. Even as she tried to move forward, the snow was lulling her to sleep. Her body tumbled onto the snow.

It is said that in death, one's life flashes by in an instant. That was how her life appeared to her that led to that moment: the boots that Keeper Deshanna bestowed upon her as a parting gift before she left the Clan-Samahl's tears as she said goodbye-Cassandra bursting through the prison doors minutes after she woke with a mysterious glow on her left hand—the first time Solas guided her hand to close her first rift—the moment she placed her hand on Cassandra's tome as she swore her allegiance to the Inquisition—that time Cullen blushed when she touched his forehead—that release she felt that morning after the end of her long nightmare—that memory of that dream where she walked with an old friend—that promise that she spoke as Cullen stared earnestly at her—and that relief she felt as she saw Cullen's flare up in the sky.

He was safe. They were all safe, at least. She wouldn't have minded dying. Only, she regretted that last moment she saw Cullen because there was still more to say. He was an ignorant human ex-Templar. He hurt her pride once when he vehemently told her that he wasn't interested in her. Of course, she wasn't interested in him, but it hurt her pride nonetheless. She almost always had an opinion, something to say to people, but with him, sometimes she ran out of words. They often disagreed, and their worlds were completely different. Yet she found that she disliked his disapproval more than anything. A part of what he said was right. Mages have been oppressed for ages, but in some ways so are Templars because of the broken systems that allow all of these to happen. Because she did not act quickly enough, she could not save them both. So when the chance came, she was glad that she could fulfill her promise.

The wind was strong, and it tore through every layer of clothing she had down to her bones. Yet if this cruel wind could carry her to where Cullen was, she would have thought herself content. Or if she was nearing death, maybe in her dreams, her old friend would come for her, like he always did in the loneliest moments of her life. Because dying alone is such a sad thing.

Then, as if the Creators heard her plea, she felt a wet nose sniffing through her hair. Looking up, her eyes came face to face with a large black wolf with three pairs of grey eyes staring down at her.

But instead of devouring her, it gingerly nudged her arm with its nose. The creature carefully sank its teeth on her sleeve, in an attempt to drag her on her feet. Why?

Perhaps in answer to her question, the creature stood erect and slowly transformed into that person she wanted to find.

"A Friend," she smiled, tenderly reaching for his wolf mask. "I knew I would find you again." At least now, she wasn't dying alone. And she found him.

"Get up!" he said. "Your allies are nearby. If you move now, you could still catch up to them."

"Is this a dream?"

"No," he replied firmly. "The snow is real. The cold piercing through your bones is real. You will die if you stay here. Take my hand."

When she reached out, his hand felt so warm, so familiar, and so real. She was not dreaming, and they were both real. He was in her world.

"You are real," she joyfully whispered, getting up on her feet. "You're real! I knew it!"

"Now is not the time for this!" he argued. She felt his frustration as he let go of her hand. "Follow me, lethallan."

"It's too cold."

"If I answer three questions, would you follow me then?"

"Just three?"

"Just three."

"So stingy."

They trudged through the snow for a while. Even with his coldness, she noted his care. Her body was still a bit weak, and while he kept his distance, he made it a point to slow down his steps for her.

"So how does your magic work? I mean, I've met you a few times now, and as far as I can tell, you don't seem to age much. And you seem to easily walk between the Fade and then here."

"It is the same with all magic. It all comes from the Fade. But unlike you, my people have a special connection to the Fade."

"Who are your people exactly?"

He stopped. For a moment, he turned his face to her but she could not see under his mask. Then he continued on his way.

"You promised an answer."

"They lie asleep. Awaiting to wake from their dreams."

"That's not an answer."

"Please ask about something else."

She sighed. "Very well then. How do you always find me in situations such as these?"

"I just do."

"That's not an answer either."

"Quiet!" he cautioned. "Listen, they've come."

Before she could ask anything else, he transformed once again into a wolf and scrambled away. The moment he disappeared, the warmth left her body, and it suddenly grew cold again.

"Fenedhis!" she mumbled. "You are so unfair! Whoever you are."

The snow got less deep as she plodded forwards into a snowy gorge. Fatigue and the cold started taking over her body again, but she pushed onwards. Her friend gave her this chance, and she was not going to waste it.

She managed to glimpse some light from afar. Though her sight started to fade in and out, she tried to focus on the light. But her feet gave way, and her knees sunk into the snow.

"There!" a familiar voice sounded out. "It's her!"

"Thank the Maker!" uttered another familiar voice.

Moments later, she felt the rush of armor and moving bodies surrounding her. Someone's arms were around her. They were warm. They smelled like elderflower and oakmoss. Cullen, she thought. A smile formed on her lips. For a moment, she felt the brush of lips on her forehead before sleep finally took her.

Finding her was not a difficult task. He simply followed her scent, and his own power calling to him. When he found her, she was on the ground, slowly getting buried under the falling snow. Noticing the look of terror in her eyes as she woke up and glanced at the wolf, he changed into a form that was dear to her.

Predictably, the easiest way to get her to move was to make her ask questions. Even weakened by the cold, her questions were sharp, and he did his best to answer them without giving away too much information.

The moment he heard a search party coming, he took the opportunity to leave. Of course, they would come for her, even if at first they seemed hesitant. From a distance, he noted the way the Commander held her, it was as if he found something precious that he had lost. The way she smiled peacefully as she nestled on his neck—he had not seen that smile before.

As they laid her to rest, the medic indicated that she had a fever. For days, she moved in and out of consciousness. The people around her at times could hear her whisper in her sleep, "Please don't hurt the wolf. He means no harm…A Friend…you didn't really answer my questions. You are so…unfair." She searched for him in her dreams, but he dared not show himself. He chided himself for being such a coward, but then every time he appeared to her always had a risk of exposure. He loved and hated that in this dance with her.

When her fever broke, and she finally came to, she wasted no time in meeting her advisors, who all argued endlessly about the next course of action. Their angry voices echoed across the encampment. But as soon as she appeared out of her tent, all of Haven's survivors gathered around her, singing a song of hope that resounded far into the dark night. A smile played on his lips while he pressed his staff and watched. Only she could have inspired this.

After the scene ended, he approached her quietly and led her to the outskirts of the camp. There, as her friend Solas, he confided in her that the orb that Corypheus was elven. Unlike that other friendly version of himself that often appeared in her dreams, at least Solas can feign some ignorance, allowing him to evade further questions.

The next day, through her, he advised the survivors to move Northwards. Again, they plodded through across snowy mountains, but this time, as Solas and Athdhea. He took comfort in how slowly, their relationship in both the land of dreams and this world was starting to become more similar. On their long walk, she confided in him how she somehow managed to defend herself against demons with only the Anchor, and how that ability drained so much of her spiritual energy. He theorized, and she debated with questions. He realized he could listen endlessly to her voice and not tire of it.

They did not stop until Sera voiced out, "Hey, weirdies! We've been listening to your magical blah blah for hours. How much farther do we still have to walk?!"

It did not take long for a scout to spy Tarasyl'an Te'las. It was a place that he had not visited for some time, not since after creating the Veil or his long slumber. Much had changed—it contained traces of humans, dwarves and other elves and their dreams. The humans started calling it Skyhold. The name slowly caught on.

As soon as Haven's survivors settled into it, they began rebuilding parts of it that fell into disrepair. Only mere days later, Andrastian pilgrims started visiting, hoping to catch a glimpse of the one who survived the destruction of the Temple of Sacred Ashes, and faced the darkspawn magister and his archdemon. These devotees also helped tend the wounded and the dying.

The day came when both pilgrims and refugees assembled into the courtyard. She ascended up the Keep's long staircase and lifted a sword, vowing to everyone present how she, as an elf, would stand for all of Thedas. "The Inquisition," she proclaimed, "is for all!"

This was welcomed with cheers from the crowd below.

And just like that, she became the Inquisitor.

Already, she was shaping the remnants of his world into something better. As he admired from the windows of his old tower, he fancied that in this place, their worlds could possibly meet after all.

A/N: Finally all three are here. Writing using Solas’ POV was challenging, but it was compelling. I had to replay Trespasser over and over again for this.

Now that people have probably seen Athdhea with both Cullen and Solas, and we now know how those two think, I now wonder what you guys think about their interactions. I obviously have my biases, but which relationship do you think is better?

[maripr]

So. Your favourite Dragon Age character(s) and ships! And why you like them (if you want). :D

Thank you! /o/This may be long… or not. Depending on my language skills at the moment (it’s 1AM here tho I don’t really wanna go to bed)Let me preface this by saying: I love everyone. There’s probably no companion I truly dislike, even if I have some problems with a few of them (like Alistair. Sorry, Alistair)Anyway, in no particular order:The entire cast of Dragon Age 2. I’m serious. This game grew immensely on me and, though I may still not call it my favorite of the saga (I would say Origins is), it certainly has my favorite story and characters. I don’t know wheter to include Hawke or not, cause they can be characterized however the player wants, but as an archetipe? I fucking love Hawke. Because they embody the tragic Hero of ancient Greece. They’re destined to fail, no matter what they do, because Fate it’s a force not even Gods can’t oppose.Ahem, sorry, my inner classicist geek is getting over me. But, all in all, DA2 has the plot of a greek tragedy.Anyway, back on characters, I would say I love Fenris the most, not only out of DA2 but out of the whole franchise. Something about his story resonated deeply with me and I love his possible recovery, it’s a powerful tale of a man, who was broken in all the ways possible, finding a new place in life and also people to connect with (my personal fav character development for him is him fighting alongside Hawke to defend mages, but I’m biased because the mage ending is my favorite).I repeat I really love everyone in this game, but I should also name Merrill and Anders. Merrill because I find her to be extremely strong despite what everyone (even the fandom, sometimes, thinks of her) and honestly, the fact that she keeps wanting the best for the people who actively antagonize her (Fenris, Anders, I’m looking at you guys) is the kind of ideal I aspire to, in terms of spirituality but also practical life (because grudges only make me feel like shit, lol).And, after some details about blood magic (which I’m an apologist of, because that thing saved my party numerous times in DAO, lmao) and Eluvians in Inquisition, I love the irony that… well, it’s actually debatable on who you ask, but I really think Merrill was right about everything, lol.So I wanna see her back in DA4, so she can see that Eluvians actually work and maybe flip off everyone who ever thought of her like an irresponsible child (she would never flip someone off, because she’s too much of a cutie for that).Now, Anders. Effing Anders. I actually despides him in Awakening, thinking he was only a watered down clone of Alistair, and I was neutral on him in DA2. But then he made the Chantry explode. An action I actually condemn.But that action and his whole reasoning behind it made me fall in love with him because… damn, what a fucking masterpiece of tragic (and he too may be considered tragic as Greek tragedy Tragic now that I think of it) character he is.I’m not keen on the “Anders did nothing wrong” interpretation a big part of the fandom has of him, and I even reblogs some critical meta on him from time to time. But I truly find him grandiose as a character, in a “God, what a beautiful failure of a human being he is” kind on way (no offense to his fans).I just wish his rival romance was better written, orz.Moving on the other games.From Origins, I love Zevran the most. Second fav in the saga. What resonated with him is similar to what made me fall for Fenris, I guess I’m big on Former Slave Discovers Freedom (you’ll also see this with my third fave).Zevran also has this thing of hiding his feelings under a smiley façade that... uugh i really love.From Origins, I also Love Leliana, but I actually think I love her more in Inquisition, because I adore her as the scarred spymaster.Loghain is also a big fav of mine. Guess I love assholes who really believe, in their own fucked up way, they’re doing the right thing (for the record, I dont’ condemn him on his decision of leaving the battle at Ostagar. I am, however, really not ok with him selling elves as slaves).And then there’s Sten, the original husbando. I was so disappotinted when I learned I could not romance him, lmao.From Inquisition, the two that get me the most are Iron Bull and Solas.Iron Bull, I would say, is the third out of my absolute favorites, but Solas at this point may come right after him.Iron Bull was actually the first thing I knew about Dragon Age, so I’ve always been fond of him, lol. Then playing and romancing him made me fall hard. You know, Former Slave, and also a big softie and very inteligent and with hidden depths. I’m so interested in his background as a spy. You usually imagine spies as being small people that don’t realy look interestin, and here’s a giant, bombastic man with a huge pair of horns and an eyepatch. I love it.Solas. Here’s another Tragic character, and another asshole who actually thinks he’s doing the right thing. Bonus points for fixing a huge mistake by making an even bigger mistake. You go, Solas.And also, I’m in love with the fact he’s basically Loki. Love the trickster archetype. Super interesting.Now, this actually got super long. And tumblr is being an idiot and won’t let me do a read more. Apologies to you guys’ dashes. I’ll try to be brief with the ships.So, before Dragon Age, I wasn’t big on OC/Canon characters ships, but DA being a fantasy dating sim, they are a big part of what I ship now. For each OC/Canon Character, I have headcanons that may not fit with the vision some other fan has of that particulas ship, and that’s super interesting to me, I love reading different interpretations. But my headcanons are for another post. Maybe.Anyway, my favorite ships with OCs areZevran/Warden, Leliana/Warden, Loghain/Warden (unromanceable characters never bothered me anyway), Anders/rival!Hawke (I actually found the actual rivalmance a bit underwhelming in terms of writing, so my headcanons about are different), Fenris/friend!Hawke (bonus if Hawke’s a mage, because, again, I’m biased), Merrill/Hawke, Isabela/Hawke, Sebastian/Male!Hawke (also completely based on headcanons), Iron Bull/Inquisitor (bonus if Adaar but also Cadash), Solas/Lavellan (because I’m cliché) and Dorian/Inquisitor.

For NPC/NPC ships my favorite at the moment is Merrill/Fenris and I’m so alone in this, lmao. Everyone out there shipping fenders, which I can’t see at all (no offense) and here I am in my small boat, thinking that Fenris and Merrill are actually somewhat similar and if the huge, HUGE, wall of bloodmagic being the highest on Fenris’ list of triggers for very obious and very reasonable reasons, somehow becomes less evident, Merrill is the one mage outside of mage!Hawke who Fenris could actually trust (y’know, Merrill never once called him a beast - like Anders did). I want to write all the tings but nobody to tell *sob*.Also, Fenris/Isabela. Also, Merrill/Isabela. Also Fenris/Isabela/Merrill. Also, the three of them are my actual “canon” polyship with my main Hawke.Sebastian/Anders I like because of the twisted, and badwrong potential. So is Meredith/Orsino.Cassandra/Varric is another favorite, because I adore how their relationship develops and they would be absolutely the cutest.Then there’s Morrigan/Alistais as sitcom enemies.And last but not least, Krem/Cole. With potential OT3 with Maryden. Phew, I think it’s all of them. Thanks again for asking.

[wrenbee]

Bajillion Question Meme

Tagged by @galadrieljones <3

1. Coke or Pepsi: Coke if I HAD to choose. Neither, really.

2. Disney or DreamWorks: Disney

3. Coffee or Tea: Both, but I stick with tea most days.

4. Books or Movies: Books

5. Windows or Mac: Mac

6. DC or Marvel: Marvel? I think? I don't know?

7. Xbox or Playstation: Playstation!

8. Dragon Age or Mass Effect: Dragon Age, I’ve never played Mass Effect, but I feel like I wouldn’t like it. Not a huge fan of space/ guns. I also need bows and elves :).

9. Night Owl or Early Rise: Night Owl!

10. Cards or Chess: Cards.

11. Chocolate or Vanilla: Chocolate.

12. Vans or Converse: I like both, but I’m wearing my cat Vans right now. There are cats all over them :)

13. Lavellan, Trevelyan, Cadash or Adaar: LAVELLAN. I actually haven’t played as anything else yet! As part of my plan to have a play through where I DO NOT romance the egg, I am going to play a Rogue Cadash and romance the Beard :>

14. Fluff or Angst: Both. But I need fluff. Angst can easily put me into emotion overload.

15. Beach or Forest: BEACH.

16. Dogs or Cats: Cats.

17. Clear Skies or Rain: I need both. This very moment, I need a clear day. It has rained every single day this week. Swamp life is gross.

18.Cooking or Eating Out:  Cooking.

19. Spicy Food or Mild Food: Spicy! I’m from Louisiana, my food always has to be at least a little spicy lol  

20. Halloween/Samhain or Solstice/Yule/Chirstmas: HALLOWEEN!

21. Would you rather forever be a little too cold or a little too hot: Too cold. I am always going to be a little too cold. This is my reality! But being too hot is much more uncomfortable.

22. If you could have a superpower, what would it be: Invisability.

23. Animation or Live Action: I love both!

24. Paragon or Renegade: I have no idea what this means lol

25. Baths or Showers: Showers. But I do love baths, especially with a pretty Lush bath bomb :)

26. Team Cap or Team Iron Man: Iron Man.  I agree with Gala, I need the sarcasm and arrogance. And yes, Robert Downey, Jr.

27. Fantasy or Sci-fi: Fantasy.

28. Do you have three or four favorite quotes? If so, what are they? I’m not going to try and hunt any quotes down. BUT, I recently heard the Neko Case song “At Last”, and the last line is “I own every bell that tolls me.” I had to sit in my car and cry for a minute after hearing it. It is just means everything I’ve been working toward in my life lately. I am conceptualizing a tattoo for it. I blame you, Gala!

29. YouTube or Netflix: Netflix.  

30. Harry Potter or Percy Jackson: HARRY POTTER

31. When Do You Feel Accomplished: Basically anytime I complete something. That is really a very rare thing for me lol.

32. Star Wars or Star Trek: Star Wars

33. Paperback Books or Hardback Books: Paperback. I can never get comfortable with a hardback.

34. Handwriting or Typing: Typing. 

35. Velvet or Satin: Neither. Both irritate my skin? It’s weird.

36. Video Games or Movies: Movies.

37. Would you rather be the dragon or own the dragon: BE THE DRAGON.

38. Sunrise or Sunset: Sunset. I’m tired all day and then I get all the energy at dusk. I am a vampire. 

39. What’s your favorite song: Several Fleetwood Mac, Frank Turner, and Neko Case songs. I can’t pick just one. 

40. Horror Movies, yes or no: Yes. Only like one a year, though lol. I love anything ghost or alien related. But then I wont sleep for weeks after seeing it.

41. Long or Short Hair: Medium. My hair gets to be too much when its long, but I’m terrified of going short after an entire childhood of bad short hair.

42. Opera or Theatre: Theatre. Especially if my boyfriend is acting in a show.  

43. Assuming the multiverse theory is true and that every story ever told has really happened somewhere, which one of the movie/book/tv show/game/etc worlds would you pick to travel to first: Halloween Town, The Nightmare Before Christmas

44. If you had to eat only one thing for the rest of your life what would it be: Ben and Jerry’s Dairy-Free Cherry Garcia. You guys, I got to eat my favorite ice cream flavor for the first time in YEARS this month. I may have stock piled it, in fear that my grocery store wouldn’t stock it again…

45. Older guys or young guys: Older. Lately, like muuuch older than what is normal for me. EX: JDM

46. If you could erase any show from TV history, what would it be: None.

47. Singing or Dancing: Singing.

48. Instagram or Twitter: Instagram. I haven’t used twitter since college.

49. Lord of the Rings or The Hobbit:… I have not read or watched Lord of the Rings…I know what is wrong with me. I watched the Hobbit movies, but I was really unimpressed with the last two. I would have loved it if it had just been one movie.

50. If you could create either a sequel or bring back any tv show/movie, what would you choose: My So-Called Life. My life will always be missing something with the way that show ended. WTF TV GODS?!

51. Who is your movie/tv show character that you are looking up to and why? Nick Miller from New Girl. I aspire to own my inability to adult on a Nick Miller level.

52. If you were ever convicted of a crime, what would it be? I don’t know, I have anxiety that I filled my taxes out wrong and the IRS is going to come after me .

53. Anime- subbed or dubbed? I’m going to guess subbed means subtitles. I don’t watch anime, but I know I’d rather read the words than hear words that don’t match the mouth movements. 

54. City or countryside? Countryside. I really don’t know how to handle an actual city.

I’ll skip the tags. If you’d like to do this, go ahead! Tag me so I can read your answers :)

[valerie-royeaux]

Questions Meme

Rules: Answer all questions, add one question of your own and tag as many people as there are questions! (A rule I shall not obey, as I just went over 20 followers, lol).

And once again, thank you for the tag, @fereldenpeach!!!

1. Coke or Pepsi: Coke, always. Pepsi is so bad! 2. Disney or DreamWorks: Disney. 3. Coffee or Tea: Coffee, double-double! 4. Books or Movies: Books. 5. Windows or Mac: Windows. I find macs overrated and overpriced. 6. DC or Marvel: Marvel. DC’s only good production is Batman. 7. Xbox or Playstation: PS. 8. Dragon Age or Mass Effect: This is a tough one. I really can’t answer. I wanna say Dragon Age because I am SO immersed in the fandom, and RPing, etc. But... Ok. Dragon Age. 9. Night Owl or Early Rise: Night owl. 10. Cards or Chess: Magic! \o/  11. Chocolate or Vanilla: White chocolate! 12. Vans or Converse: Converse 13. Lavellan, Trevelyan, Cadash or Adaar: Cadash, always. The other Inquisitor “Origins” didn’t speak to me at all. The Trevelyan origins actually made me almost give up on the game. Someone fix that snob awful voice of the male Trevelyan! 14. Fluff or Angst: Fluff! <3 15. Beach or Forest: It depends on the beach. A crowded beach in Brazil? Forest. A cold day by a bonfire on a rocky beach in Newfoundland? Beach. 16. Dogs or Cats: Cats. I love dogs, but their need for constant affection is more than I can handle. 17. Clear Skies or Rain: Clear skies. Although I love snow, I HATE rain! 18.Cooking or Eating Out: Eating out. I hate cooking. @element-104, my wife, loves it, but Maker, I can’t understand how someone can spend more time preparing something than eating it. 19. Spicy Food or Mild Food: Mild. I have a meek tongue. 20. Halloween/Samhain or Solstice/Yule/Chirstmas: Yule! Bring those logs, butcher the cattle! 21. Would you rather forever be a little too cold or a little too hot: A little too cold. There is nothing you can do about the heat. 22. If you could have a superpower, what would it be: Mind reading/telepathy. I wanna know ALL the secrets! I do love me some gossip... 23. Animation or Live Action: Animation. I love animations. 24. Paragon or Renegade: Paragon. The Renegade paths has some choices I could never make. That being said, this Paragon goes Renegade on some asses on occasion. 25. Baths or Showers: Showers. I don’t have the patience for baths. 26. Team Cap or Team Iron Man: Iron Man! 27. Fantasy or Sci-fi: Both! As long as they are internally consistent. 28. Do you have three or four favorite quotes? If so, what are they?

“My thought is me: that's why I can't stop. I exist because I think… and I can't stop myself from thinking. At this very moment - it's frightful - if I exist, it is because I am horrified at existing. I am the one who pulls myself from the nothingness to which I aspire.” - Jean Paul Sartre, the Nausea

“Perhaps its inevitable, perhaps one has to choose between being nothing at all and impersonating what one is.” - Jean Paul Sartre, the Age of Reason

“I think with my liver” - Fiodor Dostoiesvsky, Notes from the Underground

29. YouTube or Netflix: Netflix. 30. Harry Potter or Percy Jackson: Harry Potter. 31. When Do You Feel Accomplished: When I realize I have absolutely nothing to adult for at least the next couple of days. 32. Star Wars or Star Trek: I really don’t care about any of them. I am a Mass Effect fanboy! 33. Paperback Books or Hardback Books: Hardcover. 34. Handwriting or Typing: Handwriting feels good, but I make too many mistakes. 35. Velvet or Satin: Velvet. 36. Video Games or Movies: Video Games. 37. Would you rather be the dragon or own the dragon: Be the dragon. 38. Sunrise or Sunset: Sunset. 39. What’s your favorite song: Can’t say. It changes ALL the time. 40. Horror Movies, yes or no: Yes, although I do feel scared. 41. Long or Short Hair: It really depends. For women, other than a shaved or too short, I like them all. 42. Opera or Theatre: Theatre. 43. Assuming the multiverse theory is true and that every story ever told has really happened somewhere, which one of the movie/book/tv show/game/etc worlds would you pick to travel to first: The most peaceful future I could ever dream of, where people can just be in love, relax, do whatever they want and never work. 44. If you had to eat only one thing for the rest of your life what would it be: tortilla wrapped fast food. 45. Older guys or young guys: Older gals, lol. 46. If you could erase any show from TV history, what would it be: I really don’t care that much about TV shows. Can’t say. 47. Singing or Dancing: Singing, although I suck at it. 48. Instagram or Twitter: None. I use only Tumblr and Facebook. 49. Lord of the Rings or The Hobbit: Lord of the Rings 50. If you could create either a sequel or bring back any tv show/movie, what would you choose: X-Men the animated series from the 90s! 51. Who is your movie/tv show character that you are looking up to and why? Movie and TV show only? Not books? Ok, I know there is a very secret movie about it, so here it goes: Daniel, from Sartre’s Age of Reason.  52. If you were ever convicted of a crime, what would it be? Robbing a bank. Instant retirement is too tempting. 53. Anime–subbed or dubbed? Dubbed. I have a hard time relating to Japanese prosody. 54. City or countryside? Countryside, with old country music! 55. Top or Bottom? Oh, top!

56. Company or Solitude: Other than my wife’s company, I do enjoy some me time.

I do not have 56 followers to tag, so answer away all ye who feel like it. Let me know, and I shall tag thee!

[crisis-queer-blog]

Annoying Ass Tagging Game~also questions

I was tagged by the lovely @returnofthemackles ! If you’re not already following her, do so now she’s gr8 with an 8

Rules: Answer all of the questions then add one of your own. Tag as many people as there are questions.

1.) Coke or Pepsi? definitely pepsi

2.) Disney or DreamWorks? aaaaaa i don’t know where my loyalties lie anymore after the whole making le foo gay shit i didn’t appreciate that >:((

3.) Coffee or tea? TEAAAAA

4.) Books or movies? obviously books

5.) Windows or Mac? Windows (down with mac!!!)

6.) DC or Marvel? I love them both eeek :( but if i’d have to choose then probably DC

7.) Xbox or PlayStation? PlayStation all day every day (but don’t actually ask me anything about it mine broke like ten years ago)

8.) Dragon Age or Mass Effect? mASS DRAGON EFFECT AGE (can you tell i have no idea what either is)

9.) Night owl or early riser? Aspiring early riser but for now i value my staying-up-til-6-am shit card

10.) Cards or chess? cards, i guess

11.) Chocolate or vanilla? chocolate? i dunno depends on the day

12.) Vans or Converse? converse probably?? what’s more gay is the question

13.) Lavellan, Trevelyan, Cadash, or Adaar? ... yes?

14.) Fluff or angst? fluff, goodness knows i have enough angst in my life to fuel a car engine and a trip to the moon

15.) Beach or forest? forest : )

16.) Dogs or cats? aaaaaaa cats? dogs? kITTENS BROUGHT UP BY DOGGOS THAT’S MY FINAL ANSWER

17.) Clear skies or rain? clear skies rain bums me out ;n;

18.) Cooking or eating out? *pushes aside dirty thoughts* probably cooking i guess

19.) Spicy or mild food? bRING ON THE FIRES OF HELL

20.) Halloween or Christmas? halloween always (i dont celebrate christmas gg)

21.) Would you forever be a little too cold or a little too hot? i hate sweating and i already live in canada so im used to the cold ~after all the cold never bothered me anywa- MOVING ON

22.) If you could have a superpower what would it be? making people forget things? that would be so useful my gosh. either that or some piper mclean charmspeak how bout dah

23.) Animation or live action? i enjoy animation bc pretty pictures and live action makes me feel old i dunno

24.) Paragon or Renegade? i won’t pretend to know what this is trying to ask. pass

25.) Bath or shower? all the bath stoppers in my house are broken so baths are basically a luxury gg (i honestly don’t know why we don’t just fix it we’re so lazy)

26.) Team Cap or Team Iron Man? Team Thor<-im going to have to agree

27.) Fantasy or Sci-fi? bRING ON DEM GAY WITCHES AND UNICORNS . also sci fi is hard to keep up with

28.) Do you have 3 or 4 favorite quotes if so what are they?

I have a couple:

“They probably cheated!”

“No, your mother cheated - that’s why you look like a plumber.”

-Ender’s Game (the movie)

“You shouldn’t be sad because sad spelled backwards is das, and das not good.”

-probably from tumblr idk

“I could agree with you, but then we’d both be wrong.”

-also not sure of the source

“Small minds discuss people, average minds discuss events, great minds discuss ideas.”

- Eleanor Roosevelt

29.) YouTube or Netflix? youtube probably netflix doesn’t have a delete history option .. i mean what

30.) Harry Potter or Percy Jackson? PERCY JACKSON WOOO

31.) When do you feel accomplished? when i’m complimented on something i’ve worked hard on

32.) Star Wars or Star Trek? star trek i guess?

33.) Paperback books or hardcover? hardcover definitely

34.) Fantastic Beasts or Cursed Child? haven’t really fangirl’d about either but i fantasic beasts at least i watched the movie

35.) Rock or pop? hEAVY METAL

36.) What is the most important thing in your life? yeah im agreeing again i love my family

37.) Mountains or sea/ocean? oceans! but mountains are pretty to look at

38.) How do you express yourself? drawing, writing, tumblr- there’s more but those are my mains

39.) What’s the first book/film that really counted to you? The entire Darren Shan saga i still have tears

40.) What’s your element (air, water, etc.)? water ^u^

41.) If you could travel anywhere where would you go? i don’t heccin know? some place where the people are friendly and it’s not too hot or too cold but more cold than hot I DONT HECCIN KNOW

42.) If you had any job in the world what would it be? an animator or something in the arts field

43.) If you were granted three wishes what would it be? 1. CONFIDENCE! 2. THAT PEOPLE WOULD JUST HECCIN GET ALONG- world peace! 3. i don’t know acceptance?

44.) If you had to eat one food for the rest of your life what would it be? sushi? at least there’s variety

45.) What’s currently the most pressing issue on your mind, and what’s stopping you from fixing it? *takes out long ass scroll* *proceeds to burn scroll*

but seriously that would probably be coming out on a full scale and undiagnosed bad days. my family’s homophobic and also hate accepting mental illness or legitimizing it so that’s not a very great start gg

46.) What is your dream companion animal? aLL THE ANIMALS

47.) Raptors or songbirds? songbirdies

48.) Do you think there is life on other planets in the universe? yeah tbh, but none of that ET shit. or maybe idk i dont care enough

49.) If you knew you were going to die in 24 hours, what are some things that you’d do? purchase all the pride flags and run through the streets professing my love for ladies in song form until i die

50.) Is there a song/piece that makes you emotional every time you hear it? right now that’s gotta be hamilton im reduced to a sobbing mess

51.) What is the one thing you never regret doing? coming out to my smol group of frands and also getting tumblr whaaat 

52.) Who is your favorite character and why? AHHH WE’VE BEEN OVER THIS I LOVE ALL MY BABIES SHUT YOUR FACES

53.) Do you have any weird talents?

I do a gr8 chicken impression but no one really cares too much after the first time- im also an olympic level time-waster fite me

My own question:

54.) Do you have a celebrity crush/crushes? If so, who?

oh no it’s tagging time...

alright here goes (in no particular order)-

@relatabletoaster @yooooooooooooooooooooooo @mikealex01-lovestruck-gay-teen @stankbouquet @ask-will-solace @magicmoon65 @sadmothnb @johnkeepsherlockright @panky-peww @just-a-tad-gay @novocainehowell @ray-of-me @yaslikeyas @powertothelocalcoconut @306-pound-manko @trans-gal-link @amo-not-ammo @n-bi-nary @sunfluwur @whyistheworldlikethis @apeskyhedgehog @blue-cold @genderqueernat @deglacial @soldmysoultocinema @lanileia @bun-squash @pluto-will-rise-again @that-gay-slytherin @toothfairy-killer @peninchatlorah  @gay--flowerchild @jirachi-potato @lemonboops @quichekolgate @command3r-3arp @sing-a-song-but-dont-believe @lilstrawberrymoon @1029384756-faced-person @lunaemc @lesbeansqueen 

im ending it there (31, i tried so hard) feel free to do it anyway if i forgot you

[quickspinner]

Let Me Forget the Sky, CH 3

A DA:I Fanfic

The differences between them seem as large as the riven sky, but the cause that unites them turns out to be the least of the bonds between them. The Inquisitor and the Commander’s romance, told in the moments between, with as little game recap as I can manage.

Chapter 2  ** Chapter 4 **  Fiction Master Post

Chapter 3 - Threat Assessment

The sun was well down by the time Cullen headed to his tent, only the eerie light of the breach and the light of campfires and torches lighting his way. It had taken him most of the day to get arrangements made for the sudden influx of mages, and more were coming, and he didn’t have enough people to watch them all. “Maker’s breath!” He nearly tripped over the figure seated on the steps by the gate, barely managed to move so that he only clipped her side with his boot. He had to trot down the remaining stairs to keep his balance. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you,” he said quickly, regaining his footing and turning around to face the body he had nearly flattened. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, Commander,” she sighed, lifting her head from her hands, and he blinked as he recognized Lavellan.

“Are you sure?” he asked more gently, taking a step forward.

She gave him a tired smile. “No, not really. Redcliff was unsettling, as I’m sure you can imagine.”

“Ah,” Cullen said, advancing back up the steps towards her. “May I join you?”

“Please. Hopefully no one else will trip over me with you here.”

He chuckled and settled himself on the step next to her. “I read the report,” he said. “Unsettling seems too tame a word.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “It wasn’t the first time I’ve seen friends die, but even knowing it wasn’t really happening, that we were going to stop it…” She shook her head. “It didn’t make it any better. As that Leliana said, it was real for them. They felt those weapons. I just…I don’t know.” She buried her face in her hands.

“I’m sorry,” Cullen said. “I don’t know how to make it better.”

“Nothing will make it better,” she said, lifting her head again. “It’s just something I’ll have to endure.” They were silent a moment before she spoke again.

“You were very angry with me.”

“I’m sorry,” Cullen said, looking at his hands. “I know you did your best. I still can’t say I agree with you, but there was no one else to make the choice. You did what you thought was best. I respect that, even if it wasn’t the choice I wanted. I apologize for getting so emotional about it. I can’t promise it won’t happen again. I’ve just seen too much of what damage mages can do, and with that,” he gestured at the breach, “So near…forgive me. I will take steps to protect both the mages and the rest of the village as best I can, and that must be enough for me.”

She turned her face fully to look at him, eyes flickering in the torchlight. “You’ve suffered,” she said with quiet conviction. “Personally, I mean.”

“I have,” he said stiffly, drawing into himself a little.

She nodded, and changed the subject. “As disturbing as things were in Redcliff, do you know what really bothers me the most about all this? The things we’ve seen in the Hinterlands.” She rested her forehead against her folded hands. “Plenty of game but people starving because they’re too frightened to hunt. People dying for a lack of simple blankets. All because no one’s brave or organized enough to do what needs to be done.” She shook her head slightly, without lifting it from her hands. “So much despair. It’s like people have given up. They just wait to die or not die, and they don’t seem to care much which.”

“That’s why we’re doing this, isn’t it?” Cullen said, starting to lay a hand on her back, and thinking the better of it, feeling foolish for the impulse.

“No,” Atisha sighed, finally lifting her head. “That’s why you are doing this. I told you, I’m doing this because I don’t have a choice.” She opened her hand, and the mark flashed brilliant green in the darkness. “These are the kind of struggles my people face every day, and we manage. These problems are shemlen problems,” she murmured. “They shouldn’t concern me.”

“But they do,” Cullen prompted.

“Mmm.” She shook her head again. “How can I see suffering right in front of my eyes and not be moved by it? Especially when it takes so little effort to make such a big difference.”

“It’s hardly a small effort,” Cullen said, drawing his knees up and draping his arms over them.

“Compared to killing demons and closing rifts?” Atisha gave him a sardonic look that was quickly becoming familiar to him. He was oddly comforted by it. “It really isn’t that difficult to kill a few game beasts.”

“I imagine it’s a bit more challenging when you have to fight through rogue mages and templars to get to them,” Cullen pointed out.

“There’s that, yes. I owe you heartfelt thanks, Commander, for your training. It has indeed saved my life more than once over the past few weeks.”

“I’m glad,” Cullen said simply. They were silent for a moment, before Atisha spoke again.

“Keeper Deshanna has always told me that I care too much. There are always needs to be balanced, sacrifices that must be made for the greater good of the clan. She warned me I would bring the clan to ruin trying to help everyone that crossed my path. Not that she wasn’t a kind woman, mind you, it’s just that she’s right. The Dalish must fight for everything we have. We can’t afford to throw away labor and resources that may mean life or death for us later. I’ve always been taught to put my own people first, and I always have, but…” Atisha sighed again, and put her face back in her hands. “Forgive me, Commander, I’m rambling again.”

“Cullen,” he said, and she lifted her head to look at him. “If I’m to use your name you’ll have to use mine,” he told her. “At least when we’re just talking like this.” He hesitated for a moment. “When I was a recruit, there was a boy that was given to the Chantry, a few years before I arrived. Rumor was that he was the bastard son of an Arl. He was…” Cullen shook his head. “He was a mess. He was a capable enough fighter when he put his mind to it but it seemed like he never put his mind to anything. A lot of the nobles were…very cruel to him. They weren’t that fond of me either, at first, I’m just common blood after all.”

“Let me guess,” Atisha smiled. “Within a year you had trounced them all so badly in training that they chose to forget your humble origins.”

“Something like that,” Cullen admitted, not wanting to brag. “I was…very committed. Which Alastair was not. He didn’t want to be there at all and I…” he sighed. “I wasn’t cruel to him, but I dismissed him just like the others did. When I arrived I was behind most of the recruits my age. I had enough on my plate, I thought, trying to catch up in training, and it wouldn’t do me any good to associate with someone like him. After all, all he had to do was keep his mouth shut and his head down and he would have been fine. So I didn’t concern myself too much with him - until the day came that I found him at the bottom of a furious pile of recruits. I have no idea what he said to provoke them but–I really thought they were going to kill him.

“I broke up the fight and got Alistair to the healers. Fool was still trying to joke, even though he could barely stand, bleeding all over my best set of practice gear. We never spoke about it afterward.” Cullen rubbed his neck and sighed. “Not long after that he was transferred to another monastery closer to the capital.”

Atisha raised her eyebrows slightly, clearly waiting for him to get to the point.

“He was recruited into the Grey Wardens before he took his vows,” Cullen said, very quietly. “He died fighting the archdemon alongside the hero of Ferelden.”

“I remember that,” Atisha breathed. “The rumors were that he was her lover, and he died protecting her.”

Cullen tried not to wince. “Yes, well…imagine if I’d walked away that day and they’d beaten him to death. I’m not asking for any credit for it, mind–I should have done much more for him, a lot sooner. My point is - you never know, do you? I thought he was an idiot and a screwup, who brought all of his troubles on himself, when really if I’d been worthy of the vows I was aspiring to, I would have realized that I was just rationalizing expediency and my own cowardice. The templar washout, and he saved the world.” And the woman they had both cared for. And Cullen himself, though he thought, looking back on his not very clear memories of that time, that Alistair hadn’t recognized him. Small wonder, with fifteen years and what felt like an eternity of torture between the man in the cage and the boy recruit.

“I think you’re a bit hard on your very young self,” Atisha said, her tone more gentle than he’d ever heard. “And clearly you’ve learned better.”

“I hope I have,” Cullen leaned back, resting his elbows on the step behind him. “But the point I intended to make is that it’s always easy to make excuses for not doing what needs doing. It’s none of my business, they brought it on themselves, besides he’s just a mage, or she’s just an elf, or it’s just a few servants–”

“Or a few shemlen?” Atisha looked down at her feet.

“But you never know what kind of difference you could be making,” Cullen said earnestly. “Maybe none, in the greater scheme of things, but it will still make a difference to that one person.” He shut his mouth abruptly. “I’m lecturing again, I apologize.”

“No,” Atisha smiled, still looking down. “It’s a lecture I needed.”

“I guess that what I’m trying to say, with all due respect to your Keeper, is that if we all get caught up in this mindset of protecting our own first - that’s what got us into this mess in the first place.”

“Got youinto this mess,” Atisha corrected, but it sounded half-hearted.

“That,” Cullen said, pointing at the Breach, “Doesn’t care whether we’re human, elven, Ferelden, Orlesian, Tevinter, Andrastian, Dalish, or even Qunari.”

“Nowyou’re lecturing,” Atisha smirked. “I get the point.” She sighed. “How do you keep from being overwhelmed, though? Caring for a clan full of people is hard enough. Caring about everything outside of that - I can’t take the suffering of the whole world on. How do you do it?”

“Is that rhetorical or are you asking me personally?” Cullen raised an eyebrow at her.

Atisha put her chin in her hand. “Both.”

“I try to go where I can do the most good,” Cullen replied. “When I was younger that was the Order. Now it’s the Inquisition.”

“The greatest good for the greatest number,” Atisha mused. “I don’t know. I’ve spent most of my life protecting people I’ve known since I was a child. It was never about the faceless masses for me. But…” She looked down again, making that idle scratching motion with her staff he’d seen her use before when she was thinking. “I looked into a lot of faces recently, faces that were hungry and cold and desperate, people who had been let down by every authority they depended on, and now I can’t unsee them.”

“If that’s what it takes to make things real for you, then maybe you should embrace that,” Cullen suggested. “I don’t know, maybe that’s what we need right now. Josephine, Leliana, and I are always thinking about numbers and regions and organizations and countries. Perhaps it’s best that you care for the individual people, to balance us out. That does seem to be your gift.”

Atisha smiled, sitting back against the step behind her as he was. “Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer if you’d rather not.”

“I believe that’s what we agreed.”

“True.” She turned her head to look into his face. “Do you believe I’m the Herald of Andraste?”

Cullen pondered that for a moment, letting the question echo within him. “To be honest, I don’t really know. I believe in the Maker’s mercy,” he said at last. “And I believe that we need you. Beyond that, I can’t hope to know the Maker’s will, I can only do what needs doing and trust the Maker to do as he will.”

“I think that’s the most comforting answer I’ve received to that question,” Atisha smiled. “Thank you.”

“It must be a great burden,” Cullen said softly. “I don’t envy you.”

“Mostly it’s just confusing,” she replied. “Why would the Maker choose a Dalish of all people?”

“Maybe he didn’t choose a Dalish. Maybe he just chose you.”

“You can’t separate me from my entire culture and history just like that!” Atisha said sharply.

“No, of course not, that’s not what I–Maker’s breath, how do I say this?” Cullen muttered, frowning. “I don’t have Josephine’s gift for words. I suppose I meant that the sort of person he needed could only be found among the Dalish? That’s…not quite right either, but–” He sighed in frustration. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“I can hardly be offended after you’ve taken all this time to sit and talk with me. I’m sure you must have other things you were planning on doing.” She put a hand on his pauldron and then let it slide off. “Thank you, you’ve given me a lot to think about.”

“I’m glad I could be of service,” Cullen said, taking the hint and getting to his feet. “I should return to my duties. And you should get in out of the cold before someone else comes along and falls on you.” He offered a hand. Atisha laughed and accepted his help, allowing him to pull her to her feet. Her eyes flashed in the torchlight and his heart beat a little faster. He dropped her hand like it burned. “Good night, Herald – Atisha.”

“Goodnight, Cullen,” she replied, traces of laughter still in her face and her voice and Maker the way she said his name felt like a sin.

He beat a hasty retreat. He had been doing well, he thought, not thinking of her, but this was the second time she had confided in him, and he was self-aware enough to know these little chats were dangerous to him. He liked to be needed. His instinct to protect had always been strong but when it came to women it sometimes became a bit…primal. Possessive. It had been that way with Seriana, as he stood guard the long nights she spent in the library. It was mostly fantasy on his part, he knew now, but to believe that he was there to protect her, that someone as beautiful and powerful as her had needed him, as he had truly believed back then, had been as enticing as the woman herself. He had fantasized about little chats like these he had with Lavellan, where Seriana would let down her guard and confess to him how lonely she was in the Tower, how grateful she was for his presence and protection.

Of course, he had been a teenager then, and those fantasies had rarely ended quite as innocently as they began, and he hadn’t seen the harm in that until they were corrupted by Desire. He shuddered at the memory, shame flooding him. Somehow the images that had been so pleasant when confined to his own mind had been horrible, grotesque when acted out for him by the demon, saying, doing things Seriana would never say, would never do, certainly not with him, and even in his unjustifiable anger with her he knew how deeply he’d wronged her in his thoughts.

He forced his mind away from those memories.

And now here was Lavellan, lovely and powerful in her own way, and willing to let down her guard with him, to accept his comfort and counsel, to let him stand even a little bit between her and the world that wanted to destroy her–

Very, very dangerous.

But he was a grown man now, in control of himself in almost every way, and he would not let this happen again. If Lavellan needed him, he was duty-bound to give her whatever aid he could, even if it was just a willing ear and embarrassing tales of his own failures. Too much was riding on her for him to turn her away. But he would not make it more than it was. She was far from helpless, and more than that, she was not his to protect in any way. He had no claim on her and wanted none.

This Inquisition was a chance to prove to himself and everyone around him that he could learn from his past mistakes. He vowed again not to fail.

Chapter 2 ** Chapter 4

 **  

Fiction Master Post

[heartslogos]

newfragile yellows [37]

The first report comes during midday, just before noon. The messenger’s horse is covered of a foam of sweat and the messenger herself is no better off. Her eyes are wide and her face is pale. This is not new or uncommon.

But there’s something else.

There’s hope.

The messenger grasps at Rylen’s hands, “It’s Haven.”

The report is short and brief, delivered and pieced together through gasps of air and a baffling image that no one can believe.

Earlier, just before dawn, something was seen destroying Corypheus’ forces around the ruins of Haven.

The remains of Haven are a sore point to many for multiple reasons. But the Inquisition and the remaining resistance forces don’t have the time or resources to reclaim it. It holds no strategic purpose, just morale.

Corypheus holds it under watch to show them, to flaunt his victories, to revel in their despair.

And yet -

Something has begun to pry Haven from his grasp.

It isn’t quite believable.

The second messenger comes a little under an hour later as they’re arguing as to what this could mean, as to what is going on.

This messenger had left almost as soon as the first one -

“It’s her,” He says, pale and shaking, eyes bright with something that isn’t a fever - for once.

Her.

There could be only one thing that’s a her at the ruins of Haven. There was only one her left behind. There was only one her lost.

It is impossible.

Lavellan’s name has long gone down through rumors and legends and myths. Many who have joined the Inquisition know of her through the stories of how she died to save the shambling fragments of the Inquisition.

And yet -

When the forces of Corypheus were decimated, when the area had been cleansed of Red Templars and their forces, it was her who remained.

They had seen. They had watched.

“How do you know it’s her?” Solas asks.

From the ashes and the ruin, a single light of green. And a woman, dark with ash and blood and violence. From the wreckage of what was once a grim reminder of loss, she stood, and she let out a mighty scream that shook the heavens, the mountains, the dead. And with that scream, she unleashed a torrent of green.

There is no mistaking that specific and particular shade of green.

“Look to the sky,” The messenger says. “Do you know anyone else it could have been?”

For the first time in years, they look to the sky.

In the distance over Haven, they see it - almost imperceptible, but clear if you know what to look for.

And they do.

The Breach glows, the red and ash of the sky almost smothers it, but they can see it clear as anything. The Breach glows, the green of what was once their only problem.

It glows.

It shines.

And just like it did, years and months and deaths ago -

The Breach lets out one, ear-shaking pulse that washes overtime like a heavy blow of an invisible tide.

And it cracks the red and blighted heavens.

-

“A reason?” Lavellan’s voice cracks like heated stone, steam pushing the heavy layers of rock apart, “You want a reason to fight with me? A reason to follow me?”

Lavellan’s dark eyes seem to burn as she stares at Cullen.

Cullen is no longer the man he once was. None of them are.

“You are all under some sort of misapprehension,” Lavellan says, eyes fixed on Cullen but addressing the motley gathering of the remains of Inquisition leaders and various resistance group leaders. “I do not need you. I do not care if you decide to add your forces to mine or not. With or without your approval and help I will tear Corypheus down from his false throne and I will make him suffer. This,” Lavellan’s voice softens, simmers, slides, “Is not a promise. This is not a dream or an aspiration or a goal or any sort of intangible dream. That is the truth. I will do it. Whether you are there or not when it happens is your choice.”

Bull traces the side of her face, the side of her body where the Anchor once was - the ruined mess of flesh that her shoulder and upper arm abruptly end in, the black and otherworldly twist of her veins underneath her skin. He believes her. Bull hasn’t believed in much for a while, but when she says that, he believes. He remembers someone else, something else, a long time ago.

It isn’t the same creature. Same bones, different scales.

“I am not going to ask you for anything,” She says, “I will not promise you anything. I will not bribe or bargain or negotiate or otherwise request anything. I am simply going to give you all a choice. I am going to give everyone a choice. Fight or submit? Resist or disappear? Live or die? Strive or accept? Reclaim or rot? Struggle or wither?”

Her eyes swallow the air and the space between. They swallow everything.

“Your Maker has turned his back on you,” Lavellan says. Her voice takes a turn for something sweeter, something incongruously more soft and warm, “Your Andraste closes her eyes and ears to you. Your prayers have gone unanswered, your cries unminded, and your suffering unnoticed. The Great Mother and Father and their brood shut themselves away. The Wolf turns his tail to run. You want something to believe in? You want a reason? I am here.”

The ruin of Lavellan’s arm slowly raises, and from it a bloom of magical green that swirls like the smoke of the Breach and the Fade, condensing into an arm as she gestures out towards them.

“I, and I alone, stand before you. I, and I alone, will hear you. I, and I alone, have returned for you. Your Maker and Andraste have left you to your fate. The Pantheon and the Wolf remain negligent. The Gods of the Avaar war amongst themselves as petty creatures, consumed with their own squabbles. The spirits of Rivain flee and are scattered like dried and wasted leaves in the wind. The Qun is a hollow promise that moves like a shambling creature towards its own death. You ask for a reason? The fact that I stand before you is your reason. You want someone to answer your prayers? You want something, someone, to believe in? You want a miracle? I will be that,” Lavellan’s spectral fingers curl into a fist, “Corypheus wants to become a god? Fine. Then I will do unto him as has been done unto all gods. I will silence him. I will shackle him. And I will unmake him in my image”

-

“And what are you?” Lavellan’s sharp eyes land on Cole. “You, the boy from Haven - you are different, now. Duller in new ways.”

“You remember,” Cole’s voice is so faint, so low, it might as well be the creaking of wind through the eaves.

Lavellan’s teeth gleam when she corrects him, “I do not forget.”

“Cole is a spirit,” Bull answers, “Solas says he was once Compassion.”

“And now?”

“Apathy,” Bull says.

Cole turns his face away from them, curling on himself in his corner. A gray thing.

Better this than the frantic mess he was before, Bull thinks. Sad as it is.

“And you?”

Bull looks back towards Lavellan. “Me?”

Her eyes scan him, reading every line of age and every fight and every moment since the fall of Haven and her supposed death.

“What are you?” She asks. “You did not return to your Qun.”

“Not much point, really,” Bull shrugs.

The Qun remains. But it is clear to see that the Qun is on the losing end of the fight. Their numbers dwindle, their forces idle, and their leadership faces constant struggle and doubt. The poison of doubt is killing them faster than the Venatori can.

“You remained here,” Lavellan says. “You and your Chargers chose to stay.”

“Couldn’t really go anywhere else, Boss,” Bull muses, “So it wasn’t much of a choice.”

“It was,” Lavellan replies, something easing up in her eyes, “Tell me, what do you believe? Why did you choose to stay here, to fight here? You could have returned to the Qun or struck out on your own. Why did you choose the Inquisition?”

Bull doesn’t know how to say that he didn’t want to leave his guys to go back to the Qun. He doesn’t know how to say that when the Qun called for him, he ignored it - by then it was already too late. He was already supporting a large chunk of the Inquisition since Cullen began to falter from withdrawal and the corrupting presence of the Red Lyrium, and the Chargers were quick to pick up the slack of their untrained forces.

He doesn’t know how to say that he kept thinking that the Qun’s efforts and mantras were falling short and crumpling in on themselves even as they continued to try and recruit and expand. He didn’t know how to say that out of all the stupidity and foolishness of every single crown and country fighting amongst themselves like empty headed children, at least the Inquisition had some sense to it left.

Bull doesn’t know how to say that after she was - pretty sensibly - assumed to be dead he didn’t know where to go, where to look, where to turn from there.

He doesn’t know how to say any of those things.

So he doesn’t.

“Standing orders,” Bull says instead.

(“Keep them safe, keep them level,” Lavellan turned away from him, “Get as many to safety as you can. I’m going back.”

“Got it, Boss,” Bull replied, already directing his Chargers to help get civilians towards the Chantry, to clear a path for soldiers and anyone else and to keep it open.

“Hold the line,” Lavellan said, “Until I’m back.”)

Lavellan’s pale and death-touched face blooms into a smile. Bull’s gut clenches and his hands jerk.

“Very good,” Lavellan breathes. “You’re still my man, then?”

“Dragons, demons, Venatori, death apparently,” Bull replies. “Which one first, Boss?”

“I’m thinking we start small,” Lavellan answers, “Ease ourselves back into things. Let’s start with the Avaar god in the South. That should be an adequate warm up for the main event.”