#she is *andraste reborn*

[hyperbali]

Straight up tripped into (Inquisitor!)Jeanne/Solas and saw into eternity.

It's like. One of the most hilariously fitting ships she has ever had.

Shit boy I die!!

[pinkfey]

hawke is definitely my most normal dragon age oc

[furubabasket]

seriously!! it's how the world of dai clearly HAS sexism no matter what bioware tries to say--it doesn't successfully imagine a world free of sexism or gender roles. the chantry is a huge show of that. (also, like... this world WOULD have sexism and gender roles. the main religion all but guarantees it. men aren't thought of as holy enough or emotionally stable enough to be major players in southern religion!! that's bound to affect WAY more than it does in-game!! are women the "holy" gender yet still considered so weak and in need of protection? is maferath's betrayal considered worse because of that? how are templars trusted to be fair and impartial and holy when it seems so many are men? how deep does this perception go? how are women affected by the increased pressure of being the supposed holy and reasonable gender? was the world largely sexist before andraste and do echoes of that sexism remain? ignoring that is LESS interesting and creates plot holes and weird game-and-story segregation) anyway. something that Gets Me is that I feel the female villains often approach villainy in the way you would expect women in a patriarchal society to do so (Meredith screams white feminism and positions herself much like Kagha of BG3--a mother snake killing to protect her children--righteously protective, divine as a mother is divine, ultimately innocent of wrongdoing because of this pure cause). Aveline isn't a villain, technically, but she shames and delegitimizes marginalized women for their sexuality (willing or unwilling) in the way a fundamentalist christian woman might and protects her largely male guard like a permissive, patriarchy-upholding boymom. Like, these women feel as if they're written for a sexist world. "Toothless" is exactly the word.

i think plain old misogyny affects dragon age inquisition’s portrayal of the chantry as much as anything else

[the-tropes-are-hungry]

Inquisition spoilers but thinking about the evanuris and the old gods and the blights and flemeth and

So the fact that Andraste was born the year the first archdemon died, and Andraste and Flemeth share multiple points including a story of marrying two men with a messy divorce/betrayal in the middle, having a daughter who only bore daughters, and Flemeth/Mythal being alive even to SOLAS’s surprise…

The first archdemon contained Mythal’s soul and power. She was siphoned from her original (tainted) form by the Dark Ritual, and was reborn as an alamarri woman who became Andraste. After her Exalted March, she was betrayed by Maferath and died (Maferath @ Andraste, Elgar’nan @ Mythal)… but didn’t die. And she’s been kicking around in the background of history ever since, incarnating and incarnating in the bodies of her own daughters each time.

Which evanuris can the Warden and Morrigan incarnate into Kieran?

Did Mythal perform this ritual at the deaths of OTHER archdemons? (Not the 4th because Garahel confirmed dead by god soul nuke)

What did Mythal take from a Dark Ritual Kieran?

What the HECK did Solas take from Mythal?

Did solas get TWO evanuris with one stab of the knife?

[notebooks-and-laptops]

I'm thinking about the Andraste cult "the disciples of Andraste" who believe that Andraste is now reborn as a dragon and I honestly have so many questions.

According to this codex they're all completely mad because of "inbreeding" by the time we reach them in DAO, but we actually know surprisingly little about them other than the fact that a) they at some point turned away from worshipping the ashes to worshipping the dragon which got them locked out of the inner sanctuary and the gauntlet, b) they looked after the dragons young and eggs and the dragon and her children never attacked them but instead let them drink dragons blood to become revers d) they distrust outsiders and c) their chantry officials are male much like Tevinter but unlike Orlais.

It's implied that the village possibly practices human sacrifice in DAO, although the exact reasons are unspecified (to feed the dragon? Are their mages blood mages? Why? I have questions!!!) And it's also possibly they were just sacrifing outsiders (the knights of Redcliffe) who managed to find their village? Other than that, there is little to learn by walking through the original haven.

Nothing much more is revealed by the series of quests you can do on the wartable about Haven in Inquisition either (much to my own disappointment). They point to the fact that the cave systems and the temple were built pre-andraste, but they kind of trail off in a very unsatisfactory manner regardless of which agent you pick to complete them.

We also have Tamar who was imprisoned by the inquisition and then began to fight for them to secure her freedom. She has some very interesting dialogue:

"Your Chantry goes belly up, the Inquisition steps in. Always something to keep the same people in power."

"The gilded Chantry says only one truth exists. And its servants lie, steal, kill to make it so."

This reads almost identical to what I would imagine the Dalish might say; and cast the cult in a very different light to "inbreeded mad men". From these quotes and other context we get the idea that she belonged to a group who secluded themselves and kept their own traditions away from regular society, and so her people were slaughtered to preserve the chantrys "truth" and deny her own. Even with the dragon gone (possibly dead) she still believes in her cults traditions and is faithful!!!! (Let me talk to her more PLEAEE.) But regardless, this is about as sympathetic as the games really get towards this cult.

So....what were they? I'm so facinated by these guys.

Because like. They clearly have different ideas about magic, ideas possibly handed down from Andraste herself? Or ideas that developed later? Regardless they have many mages in their group and there isn't any evidence those mages are restricted in any way. If anything their mages are sent to do important things like be the main religious leaders or to impersonate Wylen. Their ideas might honestly be closer to the Avvar which would make some sense geographically (did they have contact with the Avvar? Did they trade with them? Farming would have been hard in their snowy mountains as we know from needing supply routes to Skyhold/Haven in DAI so other than hunting, did they have contact with these groups or not?)

And I have MORE questions!!! Did they have similar religious holidays to regular Andrastism? How did they see Andrastes death most pre and post the arrival of her reborn dragon self? Did their belief in reincarnation spread beyond the dragon (to people as well) or was it something special that had only happened to Andraste? Did they have any religious texts that were important - maybe oral history was particularly favoured in this group like with the Dalish? If so, any oral history dating back to Andraste would have died out when the cult itself did.

I want to anthropologically study these people so bad and like learn everything there is to know but unfortunately they are fictional and in a game and bioware doesn't seem to have any plans to develop them so :/

[mabaris]

ok but what happens when an OGB dies. i know it’s a popular theory andraste was one because she was born around the end of the first blight. but what happened to that soul when she was killed? being reborn in a mortal cleansed it of the blight, so it wouldn’t have to jump into the nearest tainted body (darkspawn/warden), but is the jumping a feature of the blight (possible, since corypheus does the same) or a feature of the inherent Divinity of the soul? would it have died there, or gone into hessarian, or instead gone to the nearest pregnant woman lol. and then from that kid on down the ages. what’s the endgame here

[mythalsknickers]

Happy Friday! How about "kiss my hand. make me feel holy." from the religious imagery prompts for Solas x Lavellan?

Title: A Moonrise like Daylight Pairing: Solas x Fen'aslan "Evuniala" Lavellan Rating: M Word Count: 1,146 Warning: I am gonna Say Veilguard to be safe. @dadrunkwriting for safety reason veilguard I had fun writing this, and ho boy is this going to make me cry on my replay of inquisition thank you for the prompt.

Hope, a rare and fleeting emotion in the waking world and one he dared not have. As the snow drowned Haven, the dragon and his miscalculation flew away, he followed behind the pilgrims of the chantry. The original plan had the Herald not woken, starting to take shape. In the night he would make for Tarasyl'an Te'las and activate the wards and find a way to recover his orb.

Through the veil he felt something, the pulse of the anchor. Looking over his shoulder a small breath as he sought the aid of the spirits. Did she yet live somehow? It was another campsite before he heard the answer. Injured but Alive, his magic reached into the long tired wards of the area and the song of wolves filled the night. A simple request to guide her to them.

By the time they had settled into a valley for the night, he took to the edge of the encampment with a small torch. He needed to be away from the throngs of frightened and mourning masses, he needed to be able to listen for the aid he had called and for the Herald. It was hours before the last wolf howled and she collapsed in sight of the Commander.

As he followed the Commander to a tent he could hear the whispers. She was Andraste reborn, she had died and come back to them. His eyes looked to the nearly frozen elf wearing the Eyes of Fen'harel, how cruelly fitting. The masses whispered a likeness of Andraste, but he saw something far more ancient, Mythal in her youth lacking wisdom but she made up for it in kindness and fairness at first. Raised up by the people she too had saved from cruelty unchecked. Exhaling slowly he pushed the the memories and regrets of millenia ago back into the darkness. His magic enveloped the herald slowly easing what he could, the anchor while still his was now very much apart of her. He only left her side, when all that could be done was for the young keeper to rest.

It was the singing that pulled him from the fade, a scene that was familiar in to many ways. He watched as the Revered Mother lead the faithful, and Fen'aslan stood rigidly, her eyes darting around the crowd, and her armored hands clenching into fists. She was uneasy like a caged wolf. There may yet be hope that this would not fair as poorly as the last time the faithful raised and elf to worship.

"A Word." It was all he said as he walked behind her, he caught the relieved look as she broke away from the group to follow him. The road had grown more perilous now, perhaps with his wisdom if she listened he could keep her from the fate of women and elves alike in this religion. His hand waved and the veilfire answered with brief roar casting the memory of warmth. "The humans have not raised one of our people so high for ages beyond counting. Her faith is hard-won, lethallin, worthy of pride…save one detail." He paused as she drew near watching her as she held her hands to the fire and watched him. "The threat Corypheus wields? The orb he carried? It is ours." The shock he expected, as he prepared for her questions while continuing with the words he had already prepared.

"Even if we defeat Corypheus, they will find away to blame us eventually." The pessimism he had not expected but it came with a lifetime of suspicion at the hands of the humans. Yet he could gift her with one thing that would offer her some safety among the humans. Tarasyl'an Te'las, the trip there with the pilgrims would be arduous but it would give them the room to grow that they desperately needed. As she crested the hill, and felt the wards of his own fortress welcome him. Her opaline eyes lite up in a wonder....like that of Evuniala.

It was after the coronation, when she had become Inquisitor that he brought her to the fade. She had changed his whole world, a knot of regrets that Felassan had tried to reach over the millennia starting to unravel all because she listened and asked questions rather then give orders. Where Mythal had flourished under the burden of command and the duty of a ruler. Fen'aslan struggled, spending hours speaking to the advisors, and those who had formed her inner circle. Instead of Benevolence's radiance and Vengeance's fire he saw the gentle warmth of Hope and the chill of Despair.

A kiss to her hand, filled with a devotion he had not given in ages past to make her holy amongst the first of their people and to him alone. The spirits would whisper how the one who hunts alone had set her above her own people and made her equal to him. But she had done that all on her own, and it was only fitting now that he offer her the comfort of his devotion as Hope should have had it long ago as the rarest of the people.

His eyes met her opaline eyes and for a moment he swore he saw her Evuniala, the Hope so long ago lost. There was a hunger between them as she closed the distance first to steal a kiss. Not a goddess but perhaps something much more sacred and holy. He chased her when she pulled away shy of her own passion. His lips captured hers and his arms pulled her up onto his thigh. He could feel the desperation lighting between them, the spirits of passion taking notice as he worshipped her. Lips bruised and parting with sweet whimpers as he found her neck. His hand rested on her back, as she found her feet, cheeks and the tips of her ears flushed. The music of the elvhen court played in the distance of the fade. "We shouldn’t. It isn’t right. Not even here" he offered watching her eyes widen as she looked around. A dreamer she was but perhaps she had never realized her potential until tonight.

"What do you mean even here?" there was a pause and before he could ask her where she though they were. "This is not real?" His lips formed into a smirk, she was quick and cleaver. Not like a fox though but like a wolf....

"That’s a matter of debate… probably best discussed after you wake up." Vhenan...it had almost slipped out in the cast spell. He let out a breath. No it seemed she was not like Mythal, who she was like stirred a deep seated protectiveness in him. She had his devotion and that he did not regret but it made things harder. He would find a new way to correct his mistakes.

[serensama]

In Sacrifice, Glory : Chapter 3

Read on Ao3

Thank you darling @illneverrecover and @femme-moon <3

The Herald was stable, already asleep by the time Solas had started to check her over. He made quick work of the wounds on her head and helped clean off her skin as Adan carefully slipped a draught down Elissa’s throat to ensure she continued to sleep through the night. Solas had looked to the Spymaster with questions apparent on his face, but had enough sense to remain silent. He was wordlessly dismissed after Inquisition scouts arrived to move the unconscious woman back to her cabin. 

Leliana quietly thanked Andraste that only the change of guards bore witness to the ordeal as they knew better than to spread that sort of gossip around camp. Picking up a wineskin she took a long swig and although she winced at the strength of it, she was grateful for the harsh warmth it pushed through her limbs. The chantry sister closed her eyes to walk through the steps that led them there. She looked like Elissa. Sounded like Elissa. Had memories only she would have... was that enough to say to the world that the Hero of Ferelden was reborn? She took another mouthful of the tart liquid before throwing the skin on her table, mussing up her scrolls as it landed with a dull thud. 

A scroll rolled over to her foot and she was about to kick it to the back of her tent when she noticed it was the not one either she or her scouts had written on. Leliana bent over to pick it up and inspected it, her eyes widening in disbelief. She rushed back over to her table and held the paper to the light to ensure she wasn’t imagining things or just seeing what she wanted to. 

Written in neat, flowing script across the top of the page: ‘Notes from Sister Leliana’. 

Her mind drifted back to when Elissa had offered to scribe for her, the writing on the parchment was undoubtedly hers. She could recognise it anywhere. Elissa would often give her bits of paper or parchment that she had written on when she returned to camp. Leliana had loved that Elissa would jot down bits and pieces of their travels in order to remind her of something that happened whilst away on a quest, or something that one of their comrades had said to her that she thought was funny or somehow important to their journey. She fought back a grin at the memory of Elissa insisting that the recipe for Sten’s favourite type of cookie had to be recorded in the annals of their history. 

Writing however, could be forged. She knew this better than anyone, Maker’s breath, she was excellent at doing it herself. Yet, she forced herself to recall the tiniest details of their night and she could easily see that Elissa had used her right hand to write, and the Elissa she had known was definitely right handed- and so are most people, including forgers. But it was not the writing, nor the fact that she wrote with her right hand that confirmed the Sister’s belief; it was a small sketch in the upper right corner of the page. Small and inoffensive, no one would notice, but she did. 

A perfectly drawn laurel wreath. 

The Cousland heraldry. 

Elissa’s family crest, emblazoned upon the vellum. 

It was insignificant, she could hear the others telling her she was clutching at straws at best, but to Sister Leliana, Spymaster of the Inquisition, she understood that even the slightest thing could make all the difference in the grand scheme of things. She neatly folded the document and tucked it securely away inside of her glove as she called in one of the guards near the Chantry. 

“Wake up Seeker Cassandra and Commander Cullen, advise them that I am calling a meeting in the Chantry at once,” Leliana instructed as she made her way there. She stopped quickly outside of the Ambassador’s door and rapped twice with the back of her hand. “Come in,” Josephine called out immediately, obviously burning the midnight oil like her. 

“No Josie, I’ve called a meeting. Please come into the map room, Cullen and Cassandra should not be long,” she replied about to step away from the door before she heard a ruffle clothes and a soft crash. The door opened with an alarmed, slightly winded Antivan staring back at her. “Are we being attacked?” she asked, voice low and calm despite her obvious unease. 

Leliana smiled and shook her head as she watched her friend’s shoulders quickly fall back down in relief. “No we are not being attacked, at least, not physically- I’ve no doubt that Chancellor Roderick is still on his holy crusade to ruin us.” 

Josephine made a noise of agreement whilst deftly picking up her writing board as she followed Leliana further into the Chantry hall. The two had barely gotten themselves comfortable before Cullen had walked in shrugging on his surcoat with Cassandra behind him strapping on her sword, both at the ready for a battle if required. 

“Leliana, is all well?” Cassandra asked as she and Cullen looked down at the map expectantly, searching to see if the Spymaster had updated the terrain to pinpoint where the attack would be coming from. 

“My apologies Cassandra, Commander- this meeting is not because we need to brace for an assault.” “Then why the emergency meeting in the middle of the night?” Cullen quipped trying his best to rein in his irritation. 

“The Herald has had an episode-” A barrage of questions erupted from the three advisors; was she okay, was the Breach still stable, did she hurt anyone, was she still in camp? Leliana raised her hands to quiet the room before continuing. 

“The Herald has had an episode. She had managed to remember something from her past but doing so caused her great pain. So much so that she fainted from the experience.” Leliana walked the length of the table, taking the time to consider her next words carefully. “The reason I called you all for this, was because her memory helped to confirm something I have believed since she first woke up. The woman who survived the Conclave and has assisted us thus far, is Elissa Cousland- the Hero of Ferelden.” 

The entire room fell silent as they allowed her statement to sink in. Leliana’s eyes darted between them all, their expressions ranging from amused, bemused to incredulous.  It was Josephine who bravely broke the tension by clearing her throat. 

“You... Leliana... do you mean to say she resembles the Hero of Ferelden?” she offered, hoping to clarify her previous statement. “Certainly you do not mean that she herself is the Hero of Ferelden.” 

Leliana stared her down with a determined intensity that had Josephine’s stomach churn uncomfortably.

The advisors exchanged glances with each other, not quite sure how to proceed without offending the woman standing in front of them. Surely she understood how ridiculous what she was claiming sounded to them all. The Hero of Ferelden had died over 10 years ago, forfeiting her life to defeat the archdemon in what was the shortest recorded Blight in history. She worked tirelessly with her companions to stitch the fractured country together so they could band together and fight off a monstrous army. Every child in Ferelden grew up being told of their adventure, and knew the song that their own Spymaster had crafted to tell the world of the great deeds the woman helped to accomplish. There were even statues erected in Denerim and Highever, the Grey Warden’s brother Fergus insisting on the monuments to remind the generations to come of the sacrifice his little sister made for them all. 

Cassandra’s mouth opened and closed like a gaping fish, second guessing herself whenever she thought she had the right combination of words that would not set off the rogue to murder her in her sleep. Cullen knew better to even try and began rifling through the letters from the day before. 

“You all think me mad,” she stated, not at all surprised- disappointed but not surprised. 

“Surely you understand our reaction Sister Leliana,” Cassandra finally responded, arms raised half way beside her imploringly. “You are an intelligent woman and have some of the finest instincts I have known anyone to have- but you cannot expect us to believe what you have just said.” 

Leliana kissed her teeth and nodded her head bitterly. Of course she understood. What she was telling them, it was madness- but it was also the truth. From her looks, the way she walked and held herself, the way she remembered ‘Princess Stabbity’ Alistair’s favourite nickname for her... to just being named Elissa- this was her friend through and through. 

“Perhaps what Lady Cassandra meant was-” Josephine interjected only to be quieted by Leliana pulling out the piece of paper from inside her glove. She accepted it and looked it over, unsure of why it was relevant to their current conversation. “What am I looking at, what is this Leliana?” 

“That,” she replied tapping on the back of the page, “is something Elissa wrote tonight. That is her handwriting.” She stood alongside the Ambassador and pointed at the drawing to the side and waited for her to come to the same conclusion as her, only for Josephine to look up at her completely perplexed. “This drawing here, that’s the Cousland crest. Her family’s emblem!” Cullen rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably as Josephine passed on the letter, angling the page to allow Cassandra to view the parchment beside him. “Are we sure it’s not just a fancy horseshoe?” he suggested, shrugging slightly, unaffected by the withering look Leliana shot at him. Cassandra hummed as she gently took the page from his grasp and inspected it closely. “No Cullen, it is definitely a laurel wreath- but that does not mean it is meant to signify the House of Cousland,” she rebutted, dropping the page on top of the map in between them all. 

Leliana braced herself against the table, her fingers tented upon the firm wood. She took in a  few deep breaths through her mouth before she addressed them again. “She is the same woman who recruited me. The same who died on top of Fort Drakon to end the last Blight- do not interrupt me, Cassandra,” she ground out before giving a warning glare to the Seeker who tutted but otherwise said nothing. “You all do not understand. She was my best friend, I know her better than almost anyone. If I showed this to Teryn Cousland he would recognise his sister’s hand in an instant, if he saw her? Spoke to her? There would be no contestation. The woman who will help us close the Breach is Elissa Cousland.” 

Cassandra waited a moment to ensure she had finished speaking before employing a different tactic to encourage reason to return to their small council. 

“Cullen, you were there during the Blight. It was said that you even met the Hero of Ferelden- you’ve seen and talked to both of these women, tell us your thoughts,” she requested pointedly much to his chagrin. 

“It is not like I knew her as Sister Leliana did-” “No, but you must recall her. Tell us what you remember,” Cassandra urged. And let us be done with this nonsense.

Cullen hated purposely thinking about his time back in Kinloch Hold; he actively did all he could to push those thoughts out of his mind, however he understood the need for him to do it considering the circumstances. He lightly pressed his lips together as he forced himself to the final day of his captivity, back to kneeling on the floor, back to begging the Maker to save him or kill him, anything but surrender to the demons in the tower. Then suddenly, there was a woman peering down at him, eyes wide with concern and words dripping with kindness- no, another demon, she’s a demon- but she wasn’t. The whole group of them, they were real. No illusion, not a fantasy come to life. They were there and they were going to help- She was tall, or perhaps she only seemed tall from his place on the ground. Long dark hair and fair skin both marred with dirt, blood and sweat from cutting her way through the mage tower; sword and shield in either hand as she tried to tell him that she was going to save them all. Him. First Enchanter Irving. The blood mages. All of them. Fool. 

“... Cullen?” 

The Commander of the Inquisition snapped to attention at the sound of his name, registering the sight of Josephine waving a hand in front of his face. He licked his lips and ignored the warmth flooding to his face. 

“Right, sorry,” he apologised to the women in the room. “Though I saw her briefly, I must admit she has a striking resemblance to the Grey Warden-” “So you see it!” Leliana pounced on his admission, the taste of vindication sweet on her tongue. “She is no demon or spirit- Solas has confirmed this all for me. She is human, living, breathing and real-”

“However, Sister Leliana, if my memory is correct and if we are to go by all eye witness accounts, the Hero of Ferelden was not a mage,” Cullen countered, the image of her holding a shield embellished with a laurel wreath flashing in his mind. 

“And she was also dead. It serves to reason some things could change,” she responded straight faced, exasperated that something as miniscule as being a mage could counter everything else she was trying to explain. Someone miraculously comes back to life and they were more concerned that she also had magic within her veins. Daft.  

“You don’t think there is a chance that you are wishing this is more than it is?” Cullen asked, pleading to her to think objectively. “That it could all be just an unbelievable coincidence?” 

Leliana placed her hand on the writ that Cassandra had shown to Roderick two days ago and smiled wistfully at her fellow advisors. 

“The Maker once sent me a dream, shortly before Elissa came to Lothering after the battle of Ostagar. Now he sends me Elissa herself, to help us out of this nightmare. I will not doubt him. Or her.” 

Knowing that they would not take heed of her words as she had hoped, she apologised to them all for taking up their time and bid them a good night. She would find support elsewhere. In Fergus, Zevran and Oghren. 

And Alistair. 

She sat back at her table and readied her quill, she would write to them all and just like ten years ago, it would be Elissa Cousland who would bring them all together. 

--- 

Leliana’s hand had been cramped for close to an hour and her neck burned as she tried to straighten herself. She had lost track of time in her need to write everything she wanted to say, to those she knew would understand the gravity of Elissa’s return. Four letters were completed and ready to be sent out as soon as the pigeons could be spared to make the long treks to Antiva, Highever and Amaranthine- at least that was where Ogrhen had said Alistair was last, perhaps she needed to send another one to the Grey Warden base in Orlais in case there was anyone there taking care of the grounds and communications. Perhaps Alistair would stop off there in his travels, but could she trust that her letter would be unread in the meantime? No, she needed to speak to Varric to confirm if any of his sources had more intel on her old friend’s location, and then send his letter to the closest safe havens he’d previously informed her of; he promised he would always check them whenever he was in each area. 

Leliana bit back a groan at the loud crack from the base of her neck as she moved her head from side to side, staring down at the sealed envelopes with a sense of reinvigorated pride and purpose, they would believe her. They would come. And Elissa would be okay. 

Pocketing the letters before she rose to always keep them on her person, lest prying eyes see them before she was ready; the Spymaster cursed her one track mind as her joints screeched their displeasure at the sudden movement. She promised herself that when she came back to her desk later in the day that she would clean up the mess but first she needed some sleep. She went to blow out the lantern when she noticed an old comb under the array of parchments and maps that decorated her table. Leliana carefully pulled the simple wooden tool and ran her thumb over the modest carvings, smiling to herself at the memories it held. She clicked her tongue at the idea that came to her and she gave herself two seconds to reconsider if what she was doing was right or wrong, before reminding herself that she would not second guess herself again. Throwing the comb in the air and snapping it back up with practised dexterity, she made up her mind and marched to Elissa’s cabin. 

She took note of how many people were already up and working to get the camp ready for the day and acknowledged them all with a nod and the odd greeting as they passed her. Leliana lightly knocked on her door and when a moment passed by with no answer, she opened the door and allowed herself in. She could feel her annoyance at the scouts who attended to her earlier, obviously putting the sleeping woman straight on the bed and placing a blanket over her, taking no care to change her out of a blood stained shirt or even remove her boots. 

She guessed she could not blame them, after all they did not know how fastidious the woman was- she remembered the time that Oghren had thoughtlessly placed his boots on what he thought was his bedroll, only for it to be Elissa’s. She had chewed out their new companion for the better part of their trek back to Denerim, the dwarf complaining that he had somehow managed to find himself a new wife with an even worse disposition than Branka. He had been forced to wash all their dishes for a month for that comment. Leliana had thought it would sour his opinion of their fearless leader, however he did the dishes with a smile and their coarse banter became a source of entertainment to them all. 

She watched her long and even breaths, the draught from earlier clearly doing its job as Elissa continued to sleep deeply. Leliana gently pushed the blanket aside and skilfully rid her of her shoes and placed them neatly beside the bed. As she replaced the blanket, Elissa grumbled something and turned on her side to face the wall, her long braid freed from behind her. Leliana  despaired at the state of her dearest friend’s hair, something she had always loved about her. She spent so many nights at camp brushing out her ebony locks and fixing it up into different braids to keep it clean and away from her face. Would she think it strange if she combed her hair whilst she slept? Would it be an invasion of her privacy? 

Leliana looked over her now lightly snoring friend and sighed. Better to apologise than ask for permission. 

Pulling over a chair to her bedside, she quickly put herself to work untying the leather band and releasing the dark strands from their confinement. She thanked the Maker that most of her hair fell away from the braid easily with only a couple of knots at the base of her neck. The Sister pushed the heavy curtain of hair away to hang over the top of her pillow so she could observe the tangled strands clearly, only to find a scar between her ear and hairline. Leliana took in a quivering breath and bit her down on her lip. She had been there when she acquired that injury, even fetching the water to help Alistair clean the wound. 

There was no convincing her otherwise now, this was her friend reborn; the same Elissa who helped find a single sword in all of Ferelden for a Qunari who was branded a murderer. The one who decided to trust an assassin right after he had tried to murder her. The very woman who fought for mages who were victims of blood magic and possession, risked her life for them even when the rest of the world saw fit to let them die. She was the one who blushed at receiving a rose from the boy she fancied, but didn’t blink twice at the chance to have an orgy at a brothel with a pirate. 

Leliana didn’t know if she was laughing or crying as her fingers and comb worked their way through the last of her locks, finally as smooth and pristine as she always remembered. With the aim of a master marksman, she threw the comb into the empty bowl by the windowsill that she knew she would use to wash herself when she woke. Reminding herself that she was tired and needed sleep, she stood back up and replaced the chair in the corner of the cabin. She looked around the floor to check that none of her letters had fallen from her pockets and nodded to herself as if she mentally marked things off from her to-do list. 

Leliana took one more look at Elissa and smiled, before quietly falling to her knees to cry, truly cry, for the first time in 10 years. Bent over with her forehead to the floor as her sobs wracked her body, hands in her mouth to stop any noise from waking her. She allowed herself this last moment of weakness to succumb to her joy before she followed the difficult path Elissa was bound to lead them down - to reclaim herself and to restore the sky. 

Blessed be the Maker.  Chapter 4

[idolsgf]

Six-Song Soundtrack

@shivunin tagged me and created this lovely tag game and I always love sharing music so thaaaanks ~ <33

Rules: If you're tagged, make a new post with links to music and/or lyrics describing the following: 1. An event that defines your character's past 2. How your character sees themselves 3. How others view them 4. Their closest relationship (platonic or romantic) 5. A major fight scene 6. End credits song

You know this is going to be about Mori'na, she's in my mind 24/7.

Arsonist's Lullaby by Hozier

I'm Not a Mountain by Sarah Kinsley

Ascensionism by Sleep Token

(A two parter) Some things Cosmic by Angel Olsen and Close My Eyes by Ezra Glatt

Akatsuki by BABYMETAL

Splendor by M83

tagging: @melisusthewee @greypetrel @ustalav @veilguards @ell-vellan @first-talon @lords-of-fortune @scrollofgrease @shivunin (i'm tagging you back c:) and whoever else wants to do this!! as always, no pressure.

Songs with lyrics and descriptions under cut :3

1. Arsonist's Lullaby by Hozier

" When I was a child, I heard voices / Some would sing and some would scream / You soon find you have few choices / I learned the voices died with me " -- " When I was 16, my senses fooled me / Thought gasoline was on my clothes / I knew that something would always rule me / I knew the scent was mine alone "

Fire, fire everywhere. Children, harens screaming. Human men shouting, dragging people across the damp muddied ground, a murderous anger in their eyes. They had believed themselves to have been wronged, Mori'na's clan the culprit. A young Mori'na, huddled under her mother's grip, her brother in the other arm. They tried to be quiet, hoping to not be noticed. It was a silly hope, they would be noticed. Her mother dragged away by her hair, screaming, the children crying with sound of protest. A sharp blade, to silence the screaming. A fury took Mori'na over, launching her small body from the ground, launching herself at the man, the two of them falling to the ground. She gripped the hilt of the dagger that the man's grip had lost, and without a second thought plunged the blade into the man's chest. One more time, then another, then again and again and again. The only thing that stopped her were the clan's soldiers tearing her off of him. She was 10. This was a turning point. Sometimes she can still smell the scent of burning wood and blood.

2. I'm Not A Mountain by Sarah Kinsley

" If I were a mountain, I'd stand my ground / And maybe I'd never listen / But if I were a mountain, I'd close my mouth and / Maybe I'd be forgiving " -- " I'm not a mountain / I can't hold you on my own / I'm not a mountain / I will crumble when you go / There in the square, my arms in the air / And is it so bad to be alone? "

She's not a mountain, she can't hold her ground all the time, and she knows this. The weight of having to hold everyone up all the time, it's draining. She's not this strong badass who's confident every hour of the day, she's just an elf from a small clan that wants to go home.

3. Ascensionism by Sleep Token

" Half algorithm, half deity / Glitches in the code or gaps in a strange dream / Tell me you guessed my future and it mapped onto your fantasy / Turn me into your mannequin and I'll turn you into my puppet queen " -- "And the last few drops from the Holy Grail, now / Rose gold chains, ripped lace, cut glass / Blood stains on the collar means just don't ask / Be the first to the feast / Let's choke on the past and / Take to the broken skies at last "

This is more what like the followers of the Inquisition think of her rather than those closest to her. They believe her to be a deity, Andraste reborn, and are telling her what her future is based on their beliefs. They make her in their image, even though that image doesn't match who she is as a person.

4a. Some things Cosmic by Angel Olsen

"Before we draw, my dear dear friend / I promise you my word / If we should part, my dear dear love / You know you’re in my heart -- " And though I may be getting older / Know that I'm going with you / Know that I'm hanging on to the things that you said "

Mori'na and her mother may be apart, but they are always with one another in each other's hearts. Nothing can break that bond.

4b. Close My Eyes by Ezra Glatt

" In the autumn / When the leaves came down / In a blanket / On the frozen ground / By the oak tree / On the edge of town / Heard you laughing / God I miss that sound " -- " Now the seasons / Keep a-rolling by / Think about you / Almost all the time / Like a phantom / Living in my mind / You’re the answer / That I’ll never find "

The years pass, the feelings stay. Mori'na and Solas miss one another's laughter, the sound still faintly in their minds, the only thing to do is to reminisce. "Will I still be able to see you in my dreams?"

5. Akatsuki by BABYMETAL

" Going over thousands nights / Some love shall survive / So, until my body perishes / Until my life disappears / I shall keep on cherishing this love " -- " In the silence / The two damaged blades stand face to face / Our loneliness and our uneasiness / Slash even our hearts "

I like to imagine this song playing if Solas and Mori'na ever had to face off against on another. While there is no other choice, Mori'na will still cherish their love, the love that was always there even if every strike breaks them piece by piece.

6. Splendor by M83

" What have we to show? / Barren feelings and dust for crow / We can't ever know / When it's time to go " -- " That's the way to see the end / Glowing out along the river bend / It's not goodbye my only friend / Yesterday started over again "

What does Mo have to show other than a broken soul and a broken body? Either way, there is still hope for a brighter day, there is still happiness to be found. She'll pick herself back up and start anew. (I needed something more hopeful for her, I want her to have her happy ending T~T)

[jkateel]

playing dao again in prep for the new game, and realizing wow, the temple of sacred ashes is full of elven statues. and given what we know about dragons and eternal life, what if andraste was reborn into a dragon? we always thought she might have some mythal in her, and that piece could have gone into a dragon after a while, JUST SAYIN’.

(still getting rid of the cultists tho)

[herald-divine-hell]

In 9:41, the Herald of Andraste, Alexandra Caera Trevelyan, began to preach her new Chants to southern Thedas. With the crippling of Chantry authority due to the Mage Rebellion, Orlais' fall into civil war, and Divine Justinia V's assassination, many in Thedas turned to the Herald as their new guiding light, and held fast to her as Andraste's blessed daughter, even with the passing of the Mark.

"Praise be to Your Lord and His Bride, and Their Herald, who bears the Mark, and peace be unto the Believers, who bear witness. They ask of you [Alexandra], 'Surely our Maker would not send a mage, a child nearer to damnation. Surely, he would not send the blood of the murderer that slain His Bride.' Ah, that is but only their desires! Wise is your Lord, who would send a daughter, a daughter who is blood of the two Realms, of Andraste and ancient Elvhenan, of this world and the Unseen." Wise is your Lord, who bore witness to the death of His Chosen, and has arisen something greater, more precious, and has given to all Worlds [to all the people], a gentle Mercy, a fierce Reminder." - [The Disputation, 2:1-21]1

"O', you who Believe, when you come across one of the Elvhen, be of the Dalish or of the Alienage, greet them with Peace, and say onto them, 'Our Lady remembers the Blood of Shartan, and sends Her Love onto her Daughter and onto you. Truly, she [Alexandra] is among the Blood.' [or, truly she is a part of you; or, she is part of the Elves.] Forbidden are the Believers to drink the wine of injustice. When you were of the oppress and among the lost, did your Maker not sent Guidance? Ordained onto Our Herald verily is this: when you see oppression, slay it utterly, and cast it into the Flame, so not even it's ashes can be reborn anew. A covenant is granted, to the elves and Andraste's Daughter. Restored are the Dales, and protected in trust by Andraste's Chosen, to the children of Elvhenan. Forbidden are the Lesser Thrones [Orlais, Ferelden, etc.] and Sanctified Seats [the White and Black Divines] to deny the Throne [the Maker] of anything, which They have revealed onto you [Alexandra]. Among the Elves who ascend such a covenant, with their hands clasped onto Our Herald, Our Hands are clasped onto theirs, and Truly We know what is in their hearts. So let all broken oaths before you [Alexandra] become fallen leaves cast away by the wind, and let any who make oaths, unto the Maker, and unto the Flame-veiled Bride, and Her Blessed Daughter [the Herald], and whose heart is free and aware, retain their oaths, evermore. Love and Peace and Justice and Compassion, We have ordained onto those who believe. This is the near insurmountable pass, of which we have revealed onto you. Engraved this into your hearts, for your Lord is All-Aware, All-Knowing." - [The Covenant of the Elves, 10:1-43]2

_

Note 1: The Disputation occurs when the Herald of Andraste first arrives at Val Royeux to meet and treat with the remaining Grand Clerics, which ultimately leads to the Chantry's condemnation of the Inquisition and Alexandra as heretics. Alexandra denies their claims and condemns the Chantry for denying her divinely-sanctioned role, citing the wisdom in Andraste choosing a half-elf mage to be her Herald, especially after the Mage Rebellion.

Note 2: The Covenant of the Elves occurs after the Inquisition establishes control over the Exalted Plains. Here, Alexandra reaffirms to the Dalish, and elves in southern Thedas, that the Dales belong to them, and that no nation or religious authority outside of Alexandra, as Andraste's Herald, has any right to remove the Elvish claims to the Dales, or have any right to dispute Alexandra's decisions. Alexandra also forgives any broken oaths that were made before her Heraldship, especially the commitments of the Mages to aid the Chantry and reside in the Circles. She also tactfully installs the theological belief that she must also be called upon when oaths are made. Pledging onto the Maker and Andraste is not enough. Pledging onto her as Andraste's living representative is also significant. Alexandra also discusses, briefly, on matters of ethics, referred to as the "near insurmountable pass", such as being compassionate and following justice, and that creation will struggle to follow through, but will overcome it in time.

[broodwolf221]

I honestly never noticed that mosaic at the end fight with Corypheus. That’s so interesting! How can you tell that’s Elgar’nan? Unless there’s other art that would show it, I assumed it was Mythal? Of course it’s cut off at the shoulders so you can’t see the rest of the body, but Her mosaic has the circle around her head. I’m genuinely curious of your thoughts!

oh! yknow, that's an excellent point, and looking closer at the different murals, i think you're right!

now moving on... i mostly reference this image from the wiki

upload credit: "Added by WardenWade Posted in Elven pantheon Forum:DAI Final Battle - Where does it happen?" (side note: the linked conversation is actually about this same subject, so that's fun!)

and here, to look more closely at just the two of them:

but considering the circle and the ear shape (narrower, more sloped; elgar'nan's are wider and more rounded), i now think it is mythal.

which is also fascinating to consider the implications :o i appreciate you pointing this out! might be more foreshadowing for the post-credit scene in that case, or it could ofc still be foreshadowing the next games "big bad," given the location, but it carries a bit less weight bc mythal's mosaic appears frequently and she's heavily associated with a lot of the world

okay this spawned a totally new thought. so the temple of sacred ashes at one point was home to dragon-worshippers, who thought that andraste had been reborn in the form of a dragon, right?

gestures at mythal's dragon form

i'm not saying she was that dragon - although i suppose it's possible! - but more that the worshippers might have learned smth of her legend from ruins in the temple and extrapolated it to apply to their own theology

[starwrittenfates]

𝐄𝐭𝐡𝐲𝐫𝐚𝐥/𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐋𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧 — Dragon Age: Inquisition (OC Inquisitor)

Ethyral is an Evanuris reborn into Clan Lavellan as Ellana Lavellan, becoming the future Inquisitor/Herald of Andraste. She has no memories of her previous life and the whole story revolves around her slowly uncovering them while accepting her new role and new life. As Ethyral, she was the Goddess of Spirit and the sister of Mythal. She was known for working with the spirits and demons and having close ties to them and the Fade. As Ellana Lavellan, she is a Dalish Elf Mage from Clan Lavellan who was formerly First of the Keeper before becoming the Inquisitor and Herald of Andraste.

[blarrghe]

This chapter of Strange Feelings in the Party camp got a comment about its ending, and on a re-read I remembered how this came out of a much older scene of just dialogue I had posted on here - probably one of the first things I wrote for this blog. And now with it fleshed out for the fic, it feels like a little ficlet in itself.

The full fic is here, but i just wanted to post this again.

“Well, I’m not going to try to steal from Morrigan’s secret cheese stash again, I just got the feeling back in my arm. So, truth.” 

Violet leans back with a wooden tankard of ale and allows Alistair his turn. She has taken mainly dares from Alistair, lightening the mood by acquiescing to his silly ideas. To Zevran she largely answers truth , and Zevran has asked about little of importance. 

He himself has opted for almost nothing but truths as well, which is surely a change for him. Violet asks about sexual proclivities with enthusiasm and bright eyes, Alistair asks mainly after his tattoos. 

Alistair, on his turns, has only been dared. Zevran has not asked him to do anything extraordinary, though he is getting temptingly close to daring him to allow him to give him that tattoo he so obviously wants. 

“Who was your… first time?” Alistair asks, rather timidly. Alistair has had two tankards of ale, and is finally beginning to get the point of the game. 

“A gardener at our estate. Her name was Vanna,” Violet shrugs, “broke her heart.” 

“I knew it,” Zevran says with a grin. “Slayer of dragons, breaker of hearts. It suits, no?” 

Violet frowns. “It was only one summer, but… left her on some bad terms. Said I’d never loved her.” 

“I’d be heartbroken too,” Alistair mutters through a grimace. Then he looks at Zevran guiltily, and then away. 

“My turn, then,” Zevran cuts the tension with another swig of his own ale and another bright grin. “And I have just the thing. So, Alistair, truth or dare?”

"Well I certainly don't like the sound of that." Alistair eyes Zevran's grin suspiciously. "Truth." 

"Shame. Not even just a wing of the Grey Warden crest?" He sighs dramatically as Alistair pulls a face. "Very well, I’ll let you have an easy one. Who was your first kiss?" 

Violet rolls her eyes, but Alistair nearly chokes on a swig of ale. 

"Boring," Violet declares, "we already know." 

Zevran levels his smirk Alistair's way. "Do we?" 

"Well... technically…"

"Hold on," Violet darts a betrayed glance at Zevran's growing smirk. "No gossip, hm?" she nudges Alistair, "what does he know that I don't? I thought it was me." Her pout is not really offended, but Alistair begins to stutter. 

"Well, Alistair?" Zevran intones with a waggle of his brows. 

"I suppose, technically, it was Zevran," Alistair manages to get the words out, slowly. 

Zevran grins. Violet spins from her pouty scrutiny of Alistair to flash wide, surprised eyes at him. 

"Zev!" She shouts, half a laugh. His smile widens and his cheeks warm. 

Sometimes she shouts his name like that, half of it and half laughing. He hadn't thought that she still would, after he'd caused her to cry, but sometimes she does. He reminds himself again that he is lucky to have such friendship. 

Violet turns back to Alistair, giving him one of her too-hard playful punches. "When?" She demands. 

"Do you want to tell it, or shall I?" Zevran offers, rising to take up their empty mugs and bring them to the cask for new pours of ale. 

Alistair stammers wordlessly as Zevran takes and returns his cup, so still standing, he begins.

'"Very well then. You see, we had just finished killing the revered saviour Andraste, reborn as a dragon, and all the pesky beasts up the Frostbacks—" 

" — we didn't kill Andraste —" Violet begins to Interrupt. 

"Hush, amor, let me tell the story. You were off doing whatever Warden business it is you get up to —" 

"Recruiting the dwarven forces to fight the blight?" 

"Yes, all that. And while you were away, the rest of us were stuck back at camp getting painfully bored. And poor Alistair, this was before the two of you figured things out, you see, well he was fretting so over this rose he wanted to give you. So, naturally, I wanted to help." 

Alistair is sinking down in his seat. "I’m sure," he groans. 

"Out of the goodness of my heart," Zevran continues, "and to see you two together and happy, of course." 

"He said," Alistair cuts in now, putting on a thick mockery of an Antivan accent, “you know, back in Antiva, I was known to be an exceptional teacher on the arts of love. A love master, if you will.”

Violet laughs loudly. "Love master?" 

Zevran had not actually said any of that, but he directs a proud smoulder at her anyway. "Hmm, do you deny it?" 

She keeps on laughing, waving him off. "Go ahead, go on." 

"I offered him some advice. But poor Alistair, he was still so nervous. So I offered to help him more practically. I suggested, since the poor man had never so much as kissed another, that he might feel more at ease if he could try it once without any attachment or expectation. He refused at first, of course, but as you well know, none can withstand the charms of this master lover for long." 

Alistair slumps over to hide his face in his hands. "Maker, kill me now." 

"He says to me, desperate and pleading. Zevran, I cannot sleep! I can think of nothing else! All I do is imagine kissing her and it all going terribly wrong! Our teeth will surely clash! My big honking nose is going to bash into her perfect face and give her a nose bleed! Help me, Zevran!" 

"That’s not what I —" 

"Hush, darling, let him tell the story," Violet interrupts, leaning in, her elbows at her knees. 

"So I offered again, 'I could kiss you, Alistair. I am sure it will not be so disastrous as you think.'" 

"It was a beautiful sunset, the forest was glowing... he said I had pretty eyes," Alistair defends himself in a pout.  

"You do." 

"Mhm," Violet agrees. "You do." 

Alistair resumes his shamed posture,  head in hands. 

"But yes, as he said, it was quite a romantic little scene." 

Violet is shaking her head in disbelief. She gives Alistair’s hunched back a gentle pat. "Alistair…" 

"I’m sorry!" He lifts his head, "I was just, I was so nervous." 

Violet is chuckling lightly. "That is the most adorable thing I have ever heard," she says. She appraises Alistair with affection in her gaze, and he smiles meekly under it. 

"And it worked out well, yes?" Zevran declares, "no nosebleeds. You’re welcome." 

Alistair drinks deeply from his new tankard of ale. Violet's eyes flash up to Zevran's, and he has known her too well not to know what she is thinking. 

"Well, my turn, right?" She smiles deviously. "Zevran, truth or dare?" 

"Dare." 

"Do it again."

[the-darkness-does-not-bargain]

a warrior nun dragon age au? 👀👀👀👀

Absolutely! It's just a couple of pages right now but still. It's specifically an Inquisition AU. Ava gets the Mark after Francis murders her and she’s passing through the Fade when the Breach is created, catapulting her back to life and making her similar to Cole, caught halfway between mortal and spirit, which is how she gets her Halo powers. I can’t decide if I want her to be a warrior or a mage, both options work really well imo!

Mama S is the one trying to reform the Inquisition, and she's a badass rogue with her swordcane. Lilith is a Seeker with dreams of being Lord Seeker like her ancestors, she uses a sword and shield. Beatrice is a loyalist mage who meets Mama S at the start of the rebellion and immediately joins the Inquisition, she favors lightning spells. Camila is a Chantry sister that meets Mama S by chance and gets recruited for her rogue skills. Obviously she uses a bow and favors traps.

I can't decide if Mary is the Varric of this AU or if Varric is also present. Regardless, she's a rogue who uses a Bianca-adjacent crossbow and is in love with Shannon, who I've tentatively set as the HoF. Yasmine isn't a companion but she is the Research Gal you can take all your enemy loot to to get combat bonuses.

I go back and forth on this but I think Jillian leads the rebel mages, trying to cure Michael of the Blight. She’s a good person, but trying to save Michael leaves her vulnerable to manipulation from Adriel and the Venatori, and it takes seeing the future via the time warp to make her side with the Inquisition.

Vincent is obviously the stupid idiot who betrays the group to side with Adriel, he's basically Samson, and he leads the Red Templars in the attack on Haven.

I'm not sure who plays the Solas role yet, maybe Solas himself idk. Or Reya, who knows? Some characters from the game are still present, like Vivienne (because I love her) and Iron Bull (because I love him).

The rumors about Ava's resurrection push her past just being the Herald of Andraste with some people speculating that she may be Andraste reborn, which brings new people to the Inquisition while destabilizing and infuriating the Chantry. Ava is still basically an atheist who gets really uncomfortable every time someone calls her Andraste or the Maker's Chosen. Which is a problem because Beatrice is still very devout and is one of the first to believe that Ava is Chosen, much to her dismay.

Related note: I'm leaning more towards Ava being a mage because 1) I'm a Mage!Andraste truther and 2) magic training with Beatrice is a MUST.

That's what I've got so far! If I can ever buckle down and write more, I might post a snippet sometime.

[thistle-spores]

There she is... absolute worst girl ever, Elthine Hawke!! Still causing problems decades past the explosion of Kirkwall's Chantry by leading her own sect of the Chantry as Andraste reborn. She's probably just a little mad at Solas for making a ritual dagger out of the crystallized corpse of her aunt for heretical purposes.

Anyways, I'm excited that the squad wants her to be the Champion of Kirkwall in our Veilguard campaign!