#the idea that. that the most paranoid man in thedas. was never afraid they would let him down

[vigilskeep]

why did they do this to me personally.

[greenjudy]

Inquisitor Ask Meme

Reposting this for fun.

Anyone else want to take a crack? What kind of Inky would you be?

@allsortsoflicorice? @tyramir ? Bueller?

1. Race:

Human.

2. Class/Specialization:

Rift mage.

3. Your homeland?

The Free Marches. Wycome, to be precise. 

4. Your family?

Keep my family out of this; they have things to do besides die.

5. Who were you before?

A Circle Mage of some skill and much fear. Given my personality, the Circle would probably not cater to my strengths. It would make me more nervous and paranoid than I already am. The Inquisition would force me out of my comfort zone and give me some resilience I would never otherwise develop. Left to my own devices, I’d fall prey to obsession, and possibly possession by a Pride demon.  

6. Would you be religious?

I’ve read a lot of books by Brother Genitivi and Philliam! A Bard; I’m actually using my clout as Inquisitor to gather whatever is known about the Black City. You might say I’m an originist, I want to know where we came from; Andraste is kind of late on the scene for my interests. 

Post-Trespasser, this quest will more or less eat my brain.

Short answer: obsessed with “religious” subject matter, not religious per se. 

7. Do you have a mabari?

Nope. But I spoil Cullen’s baby. 

8. Your opinion on other races?

Raised to “not be racist” (as far as that goes) in cosmopolitan, edgy, free-wheeling Wycome; family with a ton of Dwarven trading connections. Angry about the elves. Knew loads of elven enchanters in the Circle, but I have awkward awareness of human privilege around the Dalish. 

Fascinated by the Shaperate. Wish all Thedas had those. Can you imagine? 

Worried about the Qun, but deeply impressed with the handful of Qunari I’ve met in person. Not mindless drones at all. Disciplined. Community first has some virtues, must say. 

9. What would Varric’s nickname for you be?

Baffler.

10. What would your tarot card look like?

The High Priestess: an older, abbess-looking chick standing at a scriptorium, surrounded by magical paraphrenalia and a gorgeous view out my high window. Raven (with message) standing on the windowsill.

11. Where would you hang out in Skyhold?

My bespoke mage tower, if I’m not in the Undercroft picking Dagna’s brain. Do a little weeding in the herb garden from time to time; we’re growing some fascinating things in there. 

After Solas leaves, I’d go spend time in the destroyed holding cells, watching the water fall.  

12. What would you do for fun?

Study. Knit. Paint. Visit my horses; the smell of horses is very comforting. 

I’d have highly technical arguments with Dorian and spend a lot, a lot, a lot of time talking to Solas.

13. What armor would you wear?

Cutting-edge tactical enchanted fabric. Light, layered, tweedy, enchanted.

I’d probably get sucked into magical materials research, specifically, making improvements to armor base-layers. I’m obsessed with armor. I have a whole research group (headed by Dagna, Cullen consulting) devoted to armor improvement.

14. What would your room look like?

Given the state of my current room, a chaotic mess of books, papers, research tools, letters from colleagues, blueprints, schematics, dirty dishes, orchids, and automata (Josie and I would be doll-geeks together).

15. Who would be your friends at Skyhold?

I try to make sure that the Inner Circle understands how much I appreciate them as a general rule. 

As for friends: 

Cassandra is one of the great ones. Just about the best person I know. Never met anyone so ready to acknowledge her mistakes. I’d trust her to be the next Divine. 

Dorian is a dear. One of the best sounding-boards. Somebody peel that man a grape. 

Cullen and Josephine are terrific advisors, couldn’t ask for better, their own problems of course, we’re all doing our best. I’d like to know Cullen better—suspect we have things, Circle things, to talk about. In another life, maybe. 

I’d get on with Varric—everyone gets on with Varric, come on—but I find him ultimately very armored, hard to know. Hid his best friend, didn’t he? Never talks about the lady he loves. 

Sera is actually easy to understand. Raw genius with a bow, one of the best to have along, out in the field. Not exactly my friend. So down on the Dalish. It’s her business, though. She and Dagna are adorable together. She makes Dagna happy, that’s good enough for me. 

I have a bit of a GP for the Iron Bull. (He had me at “front-line bodyguard.”) Never acted on it, though.

Solas is my… see… well, see below. 

16. Would you have any friends outside of the Inquisition?

I’d have the Thedas version of LinkedIn comrades in Antiva, Nevarra, and Orlais—researchers all. Plus one brilliant friend who’s a materials mage based out of Denerim, working with Sandal on woven metal enchantments; call her my “knitting buddy.”

17. Who wouldn’t you get along with?

Leliana would trouble me. Don’t like having someone this emotional and vindictive managing our intel networks. It’s bad juju, Ambassador; can’t trust her judgment, can you? And that feels like a loose end. Put us in a tight spot someday. Couldn’t we ask Varric…? No, I quite see that. Still. 

I’d understand Vivienne, and try to maintain a cordial relationship because I think most of her head is in the right place, even though she is entirely too power-oriented for a real friendship. 

Blackwall’s “find Darkspawn, kill them, repeat” approach would bother me. When I found out the truth about him, it would confirm my feeling that you need to lie to yourself, a lot, to just have enemies and kill them without compunction. I would also find myself highly influenced by Solas’s take on the Wardens. 

18. Who would you romance?

I’m a Circle mage who’s watched close friends be tormented by romantic love. Demonic possession and Tranquility. Babies taken away. This is not the kind of conditioning that disappears just because you take me out of a Circle. In my youth I worked it out by restricting myself to impossible love objects—there was this one Templar, very stern, very disciplined…he’d barely speak to me… Well. That was many years ago. 

That said, the best impossible love object I’ve ever encountered in my life is Solas. 

What does it matter, really? Bonds of friendship, don’t you know; romantic love leads to envy demons. I’m old now, at any rate. Inquisigeezer not exactly a romanceable character. 

19. Would you do pranks with Sera?

Probably not. Too busy. Too tired. Feel too much sympathy for her innocent victims. 

But I would do operations with Sera, with pleasure. 

20. Would you sleep with the Iron Bull (casually if not romance)?

My front-line bodyguard? Get on with you. It would get too complicated—for me, I mean, not him. 

21. Would you keep Cole around?

Yes. And I’d agonize about what would be the best path for him to take, and probably make him a spirit.

22. Can you play the game (politics)?

Yes. I’m better at it the more distant it is. If you’re talking about what to say at a party, I’ve developed a persona for that sort of thing. Stakes are high. Can’t be fooling around. A mage, remember? This guard drops, I get possessed; lose my temper, might incinerate you, can’t have that. 

23. What would be on your tombstone in the fade (What are you afraid of)?

“The world fell apart on my watch.”

24. Who would you recruit to seal the breach?

Mages. I understand mages. Their leadership’s been simply awful. Not sure what Fiona did with her spine. Without decent leadership, it’s mages running amok, trying to protect themselves, doing awful things out of fear; can’t have that, they’ll pull their own house down. Get them out of the weeds, stick ‘em in the Inquisition, give them a chance to show what they can do for the right cause. 

25. Opinion on Mages versus Templars?

It’s all about training, though, isn’t it? Templars and mages both need much, much better training. Without training, without a penetrating education with a solid grasp of magical theory, history, ethics—co-train the mages and templars, make ‘em take core courses together. Make them work together in strike teams; I’ve been doing that since we recruited ‘em, they actually partner well, as long as you’re not, you know, mad.

I would become obsessed (do you see the recurrence of this word) with the idea that mages could be Seeker-trained to resist possession and mind control, obviating the need for Tranquility. These disciplined (another key word) and trustworthy mages could be placed in a position of joint authority with properly educated Templars to create a College of Magi with research cells all over Thedas…

Yeah. We’ll see how that works out.

26. Who would be put in charge of Orlais and why?

Celine and Briala. Celine is the one with the right temperament, and for some reason I viscerally understand Briala. I’m all about reparations and integrating elven populations and something something protect the Dalish (can’t we actually give them the Dirth?).

27. Would you sacrifice the Chargers?

I couldn’t.

28. Would you go after Blackwall?

Oh, yes. And I’d keep him on, as Thom Rainier. 

29. Would you drink from the well?

Knowing me? Not knowing the implications except for those vague warnings? Yes, I would, and it would affect me for the rest of my life. 

I’d spend what’s left of myself using whatever insight and connections the Well gave me to work on Solas. 

30. Where would you go if the Inquisition was disbanded?

Under ordinary circumstances, the College. Daresay they’d want me to do something draining and administrative because of my being the (ex)Inquisitor; I’d look for a research niche but probably not get to keep it. 

Solas is not ordinary circumstances. I’d dedicate the rest of my life to that problem. 

31. How do you react to the egg telling you he is an elven god? 

I’d naively and arrogantly imagine that I could—if we could just get enough time to sit down together—he must understand what he’s likely to bring about, he needs people to talk to, dammit—

He would be the death of me, I’m afraid.

[shannaraisles]

In Marcher Fields - Chapter 8

Poppy Hawke was never the daughter her mother wanted, the sister her twin preferred, the hero Kirkwall desired. They do not see the woman who stands between them and the chaos that threatens. No one takes the time to look, until she crosses the path of a certain Knight-Captain with demons of his own to battle …

[Read on AO3]

Chapter Eight

9:34 Dragon, August

Maker's breath, but she was beautiful. Even standing there before him, blue eyes blazing with icy fury, armor unbuckled, hands twitching toward weapons she never carried past the door of this one place where they could be together ... Poppy Hawke was the most arrestingly beautiful sight in all the kingdoms of Thedas.

She was also inarticulate with rage, and it was entirely his own fault.

Cullen opened his mouth to speak again, and abruptly stopped as her hand flew up, palm pointed at him in a warning to keep his mouth closed even as hers worked in silent outrage. What little sound came from her lips as they opened and closed was more in the region of words begun but never finished, anger making it impossible to complete a syllable, much less a sentence. He'd never seen her like this, never seen more than a flash of irritation. He was beginning to think that pushing her this far might have been a bad idea.

"Right."

One word, finally spoken, but it was clipped and harsh, not at all the voice he was used to hearing from her lips. The anger was still there, but she had some control over it now, the flexing of her fingers calming as she let her hands fall to her sides.

"I dare you to say that to my face again."

Cullen felt his mouth drop open. What he'd said had been a carelessly thrown thought, not something he truly believed was feasible or even justified. He'd spoken without thinking, even knowing her own history as well as he did, and had watched as she went from upset to flaming furious in seconds. He really didn't want to repeat it.

"I did not mean -"

"You never speak without meaning it," she snapped, lifting her chin defiantly in the face of his attempt to backpedal. "Even if it's forgotten a moment later, you always mean what you say. So tell me again, Knight-Captain ... tell me again how mages aren't people, and therefore should be grateful to be made Tranquil just to make templars feel better."

"That isn't what I said," he pointed out, but she was ready to interrupt him straight away.

"No, what you did was seriously contemplate that this "Tranquil Solution" was a good idea," Poppy spat back at him. "Just how much did you know about your precious Ser Alrik, hmm? Did you know that he threatened a teenaged girl with Tranquility just for wanting to see her mother? Did you hear the disgusting implication in his assurance to her that she'd do anything he told her do when she was Tranquil?"

"She was attempting to escape -"

"She was alone in dark caverns, and surrounded by templars. I do not want to hear you try and justify the need for more than a dozen templars to intimidate and terrify a single mage, especially when she was so scared that she immediately acquiesced to going back!" Poppy was glaring at him again. "And it was after she agreed to go back, after she told Alrik that she'd do anything he said, that he threatened her. That isn't the protection your order is supposed to give mages, Cullen - that is a nasty, greedy little man abusing his position of power with the ease of someone who has got away with it for far too long!"

"If I had known Alrik was abusing his position, I would have prevented it," he tried to assure her. "You know I do not condone the abuse of mages -"

"It's not just Alrik, Cullen!" Poppy let out an explosive breath, turning away with an impotent wave of her hand. "Look, I know things are bad here in Kirkwall. I know there's a higher rate of blood magic, but the templar attitude is not helping matters. Take away the magic, and what is the Gallows? It's a prison for a whole layer of society, watched over by an army made up of individuals who don't all share your convictions or your reasons for being wary. Alrik isn't the only templar I've met who took advantage."

"Give me names, evidence, I will deal with them."

"No, Cullen, you won't," she said bitterly. "You can't. I have met ... three templars that I would trust to watch over mages here, and one of them won't even be a full templar for another seven years. Meredith's regime doesn't reward moderation or even care for the people under your charge - and they are people, Cullen. You can't strip someone's humanity away from them just because they were born different!"

"Mages are not people as you and I are people, they -"

Her hand flew toward him, one finger pointed warningly directly at his nose. "Do not finish that sentence," she snarled. "Don't even think about it. My father was a mage. My little sister was a mage. Don't you dare try to tell me that they were not people."

"Magic was made to serve man, and not to rule over him," he quoted back to her, some part of him marveling at the sheer arrogance of saying that to a woman who was bordering on violent in her rage.

"My father never ruled over anyone!" she shouted at him. "All he wanted was to be left alone, to raise his family in peace and safety! But the Chantry's laws wouldn't let him do that. Do you have any idea how often we had to change town, city, province in my childhood, just because a templar might have discovered him? Which is better for a family, Cullen - to be left in peace to live together, or to be torn apart because of fear of what might happen?"

"Poppy, I understand that your father was a special case -"

"No, my father was not a special case! He was a good man. He loved my mother, he loved his children. Because he was born a mage, he was forced into using blood magic by Grey Wardens who threatened him with the lives of his wife and their unborn twins - me and Alex. You know what else they probably threatened him with? Templars, Cullen. Your order might have started out with good intentions, but these days you are little more than the Chantry's bully boys aimed squarely at anyone with an ounce of magic in their blood, and far too many of you enjoy that power!"

Cullen's jaw clenched, his own anger beginning to make itself known ... not because she was wrong, but because he was beginning to suspect that she was right. He had lived in fear of magic for years, ever since he had experienced the worst of it in Kinloch Hold; he had blamed the innocent for the actions of the guilty. Even here in Kirkwall, he had turned a blind eye to the injustices under his nose, clinging to the false belief that mages could only be controlled through fear and pain. Worse, he had wielded the brand himself on Harrowed mages - mages who were protected under Chantry law from being made Tranquil. But his anger was rising because he already knew he was wrong; because he didn't want this fierce, lovely woman to have to point it all out to him.

"You should not have killed him," he told her, trying to keep that anger in check. "You should have brought him to the Gallows to face justice."

She let out a callous laugh. "And what justice do you think Meredith would have handed down to him?" she demanded. "She's paranoid, Cullen. Every time she makes a decision, the mages in the Gallows suffer, and the situation worsens. She is not the commander you need, any of you. She's becoming the greatest threat to the security of this city, whether you choose to see it or not."

"No. Knight-Commander Meredith does what she believes to be right." And he did believe that. There was too much conviction in Meredith's impassioned words and desire for safety for all. He refused to believe himself so badly deceived as Poppy painted.

"Then she needs to be made to see the damage she's doing," Poppy insisted. She sighed again, the worst of her anger flown now she had said her piece. "I can't do everything, Cullen. As much as I want to set things right between the mages and the templars here, I have other concerns. I have the Arishok breathing down my neck and the viscount asking me for help with it; I have missing women who are likely being murdered; I have friends constantly at each other's throats just for being what they are; I have a family to protect from all this chaos if I possibly can. I can't solve the problem of the Gallows as well. But you could."

Cullen felt his mouth drop open. "A-are you saying that I should ..."

"I know there's a good man in there somewhere, looking at all this and seeing the wrongness in it," she told him, shaking her head sadly. "I wish I could convince him to come out from behind his fear and take a stand. It doesn't have to be violent, Cullen, it doesn't even have to be obvious. But please ... start asking questions. Stop blindly following orders you know in your heart are wrong. I know it's hard, I know you're afraid. But you are the Knight-Captain; more than that, you know the dangers if this gets too far out of hand. If Meredith will listen to anyone, she will listen to you."

He was silent for a long moment, absorbing not just her words but what lay behind them. How was it that this beautiful, strong woman had so much faith in him? He'd done nothing to deserve it, he was sure - years spent toeing the line to Meredith's increasing paranoia, performing acts that under other regimes would be criminal. Where could he possibly begin to do penance for the things he had done since Kinloch, to try and set right the attitudes he had allowed to flourish around him? The task seemed immense.

Yet ... Poppy was right. She was just one woman, yet too many people looked to her. She had been placed between the Qunari and the city, and no one knew quite how that would turn out. The poorest trusted her; even the nobles respected her. By the sound of things, she'd even put right something only the Wardens knew of. But only he knew how overwhelmed she felt, how undeserving of that trust. How anxiety over the expectations laid upon her destroyed any hope of peaceful sleep. How the mother and brother who should support her were more concerned with their smaller concerns, yet she still loved them, made them the center of her world. Alex Hawke, at least, for all his arrogance, stood at his sister's side; Cullen had seen for himself how protective her younger twin could be when words lashed at her too harshly. The mother ... that relationship was complex and broken, and even that break pained Poppy more than she liked to admit. And in the midst of all this, which would be more than enough for anyone to cope with, she was tasked with keeping the Arishok sweet, purely because he had asked for her by name.

If she could do all that, then he could stop hiding behind his fear. Whatever the terrors of life without lyrium, he would risk them to question his commander ... for Poppy.

"I will try," he conceded quietly. "I cannot make promises of success. But I will try."

"That's all I'm asking," she assured him, her own voice gentling with weary relief. "I'm so tired, Cullen. I don't think I can do this much longer."

There was no need for thought in his reaction. He reached for her, daring the residual trace of her anger to draw her close against his chest, wrapping her in his arms to press his face to her neck, hoping to comfort her, bolster her against the pressures of the world they lived in. She shuddered into his arms, loosing a long, low sigh as her own arms rose to curl about his waist, leaning into him with trust he did not think he deserved.

"You are a better person than any I have known," he murmured against her neck, wishing she could believe him. "If anyone can bring peace to this city, it is you."

She snorted derisively against his shoulder, raising her head to meet his eyes with wry disbelief. "How can you possibly think that?"

Cullen smiled, curling his fingers to her dimpled cheek as she leaned into that affectionate touch, glad to know that she could forgive his thoughtless words even when pushed to fury in his presence.

"I have faith."