#then after Bartrand tried to kill him was like you know what

[baejax-the-great]

I do love how Hawke and Varric both lost their only siblings in the Deep Roads one way or another, and just turned to each other and decided, yeah, this is my sibling now

[persephoneggsy]

Thinking about the quest Family Matter (where you and Varric go to confront Bartrand after he left you for dead in the Deep Roads) and it ended up really fleshing out my Hawke’s relationship to Varric.

They’ve never gotten along — Varric has tried, but Marian is just so… brash and violent and rude. She’s a riot to unleash on some other poor suckers, he’ll give her that, but they’re not friends.

The one thing they’ve agreed on is this — Bartrand needs to pay for what he did to them. Varric isn’t too proud to admit that he’s daydreamed about setting that feral Fereldan loose on his traitorous brother and enjoying the bloodbath she’s sure to cause. So when he finally gets a lead on Bartrand, of course he lets her in on it. They make plans to go to his house and make him fucking pay.

It’s only mildly annoying that she brought Choir Boy with her — it’s like he’s glued to her hip, Varric never sees one without the other lately. But, whatever. The main thing on his mind is Bartrand.

Except… they find him. And it’s horrible. Bartrand’s gone insane, driven mad by whatever it was they found in the Deep Roads, he’s committed atrocities. Killing him seems like the obvious choice — now more than ever — but when Varric turns to Marian, expectant, she… shakes her head.

And spares him.

Spares him! The man who betrayed them, the man she’s wanted to kill for years! Varric just knows it’s Choir Boy’s fault — he keeps preaching about forgiveness and kindness and all that sanctimonious shit, and somehow he’s worked his rhetoric into Marian’s head.

Now she won’t even do the one thing he counted on her doing while he was waiting to get his revenge on his brother. Instead, she takes the fucking bastard to a clinic, Sebastian (and Fenris, though Varric isn’t surprised; he always goes along with whatever Marian does) following quietly behind her. Leaving Varric outside Bartrand’s old estate, his fury settling into his bones and leaving him exhausted.

It’s the incident that firmly establishes Varric and Hawke as rivals.

[urrone]

in the deep dark

I’m playing DAI again and did the Descent. Then this happened. 

Varric/Lavellan | on ao3

--

In the dim torchlight, she can just see Varric’s outline where he’s sitting up in his bedroll. He’d drawn first watch but Avriel knows that’s not the only reason he isn’t sleeping. They all look pale and sallow after two weeks underground, but the darkness hangs on Varric in ways it doesn’t touch the others. 

She’s met more dwarves over the last months with the Inquisition than she’s ever known in her entire life and she knows, better than anyone else here, that he doesn’t have much in common with other dwarves. 

“You don’t like being underground, do you?” she whispers into the space between them. There isn’t much, they’ve bedded down into a handy alcove for what Avriel has called the night, even though there’s no difference down here. 

He doesn’t startle but then, he never has with her. Somehow, he always seems to be aware of exactly where she is. “I’m not a very good dwarf,” he whispers back, cognizant of the others sleeping around them. “But no, I never have.” 

She scootches even closer, propping herself up on her elbow and curling around his back to give him something to lean against, if he chooses. He does. “Have you spent a lot of time down here?” 

“In Orzammar?” 

“Anywhere.” 

“No. To both questions, actually. I was born on the surface, I like sunlight and a cool breeze as much as the rest of you. The long dark makes my skin crawl.” 

“‘The long dark’ sounds like a story.” 

He’s quiet for a long moment and Avriel wonders if she’s wandered into a tale he doesn’t want to tell. 

“Well,” he finally says, so quietly she has to lean in closer still. “There was the time my brother tried to kill me in the deep roads.” 

“What?” she says, slightly louder than a normal volume in her shock, then cringes as Sera starts to stir. They both hold their breath until she stills again. 

“Geez, Sunshine. These aren’t state secrets. I told you about when we found the red lyrium.” 

“You did, but not the rest of it.” 

“I hate the stuff.” He shudders but takes a deep breath and starts again. “Bartrand and I were never very close. He was born in Orzammar, still remembered life down there and would have given anything to go back.” 

“Wait, your parents weren’t surface dwarves? Why did they ever leave?” 

“That,” he says slowly, “is another story for another time. I will tell you, just, let me get this one out first.” 

She doesn’t say anything, giving him space, but she does reach out her free hand, unsure of its reception. 

Her heart flips over—just a little—when he turns his hand palm up under hers and threads their fingers together. His hand engulfs hers, the calluses from Bianca catching on the calluses from her knives, but it’s real and comforting. For them both, she hopes. 

“It was how I met Hawke, actually. She and her brother signed on for an expedition to loot a thaig. He wasn’t always like this, but by the time my mother died, there were few things Bartrand wouldn’t do for gold.”

Varric spins the tale of deception and betrayal for her, quietly as he can. He sometimes punctuates the story with gestures she can just make out in the dim torchlight (none of them had wanted to sleep in the pitch black). 

He never drops her hand, though he does sometimes take it with his as he sketches out Hawke casting a spell with her staff, or Carver’s slashes with his long sword.

By the time the tale ends with his triumphant return to Kirkwall, richer than Bartrand could have imagined getting on this expedition, Avriel can almost forget the quiet whisper where it began: with Varric watching helplessly as his brother locks him in a room in the deep roads to die. 

She’s quiet for a moment and he laughs softly into the dark. “Have I actually rendered you speechless with my tale?” 

She squeezes his hand. “Hardly,” she says. “I’m sorry I brought you down here.”      

Varric pulls her hand up to his mouth and his lips press a kiss to her palm before he tugs further, pulling her face up to his. She catches her breath but all he does is lean his forehead against hers. In the quiet space between them, he whispers what she’s known for a while. “Come on, Sunshine. You’ve gotta know by now that I’d follow you anywhere.” 

It’s up to her to cup his cheek with her free hand, to pull that clever mouth that spins such tales to hers, to kiss him in the quiet, deep dark. 

[wizardofozymandias]

14 Days of DA Lovers Prompts, Day 3: “You Drive Me Crazy”

Written for the @14daysdalovers prompt event. 

Prompt: “You Drive Me Crazy”

Pairing: Varric/Female Hawke

Characters: Varric Tethras, Marian Hawke

Warnings: Mentions of Canon-Typical Violence, Blood, Injury, Self-Destructive Behavior

Summary: When Hawke almost dies fighting the Arishok, Varric ends up exposing more of his heart than he planned the next time he talks to her. 

It was three days before Hawke was awake for more than a few minutes at a time. Every time she woke up, she was in a haze of pain. The last thing she remembered was someone shouting about “the Champion of Kirkwall,” just before she collapsed in a pool of her own blood. 

Voices drifted in and out of her dreams. Sometimes she heard one of her friends (it seemed to be Anders often) while at other times she heard Carver or Bethany or her mother. The speakers never seemed to materialize; she only heard their voices, and never any words she could understand. The only exception was when her mother kept calling her Marian. At least I can remember my own name, Hawke thought. That should count for something. 

Three days after the duel, Hawke finally opened her eyes and the room didn’t swim away into the dark. Every inch of her ached. She wondered if this was how a sword felt on a blacksmith’s anvil. Good thing swords couldn’t think or feel—at least as far as she knew.

She turned her head. When did my head turn into an iron cauldron full of oatmeal? was the first thought that crossed her mind. Her skull felt so heavy, while her brains felt like mush.

The thought of oatmeal, of mush, sent her stomach churning, which made her head hurt worse. Although “worse” seemed an irrelevant concept. Measurements of pain didn’t seem to apply anymore, once you had reached “molten metal being pounded into shape by a hammer” levels of misery. 

A groan staggered its way up her throat, tripped, and came out half a cough. The motion rattled her ribs and made her eyes water.

“Hawke!” came a quiet voice from nearby.

The faint firelight revealed that Varric had been sitting nearby, keeping watch over her.

“Hey,” she said. Or at least, that was what she tried to say. The sound that emerged from her scratchy, parched throat was more like a rusty door hinge creaking open. She cleared her throat, winced, and tried again. “Hello, Varric.” At least it sounded like words this time.

“Hello, yourself.”

“How long have you been here?” she asked.

“Me?” he looked incredulous. “I’ve been in your house for the past three days, ever since they brought the newly-minted Champion of Kirkwall through the door, bleeding like a villain in a Summerday pantomime.”

Hawke tried to laugh. She wheezed instead, but even that hurt. “I guess I took a beating, didn’t I?”

Varric let out an exasperated sigh. “That’s an understatement.”

“You sound upset.”

He took a minute to reply. That was usually a sign that he was holding back his temper. “Hawke, it’s no time to talk about this. I know it’s not. But I’m not sure it can wait.”

Hawke tried to roll over to face him, but her body wouldn’t move. The pain radiated again. “I would at least turn over to look at you, but I’m, uh, stuck,” she rasped.

Varric looked like she had stabbed him. “Oh, Hawke,” he said. “You’re a wreck.”

She let out the pathetic wheeze that currently served as her laugh. “Tell me something I don’t know. And don’t look at me like I’m dead.”

Varric took a deep breath, then stared down at his hands, laced tight in his lap. “Hawke, what was that duel?”

“Other than our best chance to stop the Qunari from taking the city?”

“No, that’s not what I’m talking about.”

“You’re gonna have to spell it out for me,” she told him. “I’m not in much shape to think.”

“I’ve seen you fight,” Varric said. His voice was full of barely-restrained emotion. The same voice she had heard him use once before, with Bartrand. “I’ve seen you fight mercenaries and burglars and Qunari. Hell, I’ve even seen you fight a dragon.”

“Living the dream,” Hawke murmured.

“Okay, there, Chuckles. Less joking, more listening. I’m serious this time.”

“I know,” Hawke wheezed. “You sound like you’re about to pull out Bianca and turn me into a pincushion. I’m hoping my jokes might save my hide.”

“Don’t quit your day job,” Varric advised. “My point is, I know how you fight, Hawke. And what I saw three days ago was nothing like that. You egged him on, left yourself open too many times, took too many hits. Worst of all, you looked like you were enjoying it, every time he landed a blow.”

“Varric, I—”

“Listen to me. I know you’re hurting, I know losing your mom hurt you worse than you’ll admit. But Hawke, I can’t keep doing this.”

“Doing what?”

“Watching you try to kill yourself.”

“I thought you supported the duel with the Arishok.”

“I did! Because I knew you could take him! Shit, Hawke, you could’ve wiped the floor with that blowhard. But when you walked in there, I could tell you didn’t want to walk out. I don’t know what kind of crazy death wish you’re carrying around, but you need to let it go.”

She closed her eyes, wishing for a minute that she could just go back to sleep again. But Varric had found her out, and she knew it was pointless to try and hide anything now. “Was it that obvious?” she said. 

“To the others? Probably not. But you’re my best friend, Hawke. Shit, I never thought I’d care about anything in this damn town. And then I met you. I don’t have any family left that will claim me, but you and the others are more family to me than Bartrand ever was. And—you—you matter to me too damn much for me to sit by and watch you destroy yourself.” He seemed to be wrestling with what he was about to say next. Finally, he soldiered on. “Andraste’s ass, Hawke. I love you. I never thought I’d say that to someone again. But you walked into my life and settled in like you owned the place. I love you, and you drive me crazy. You get into more scrapes than anyone I’ve ever met and you probably should’ve died ten times over by now. Which is why I can’t stand to see you give up. Not like this. So, whatever problems you have, tell me next time. Or, shit, tell whoever you want. Daisy or Blondie are probably way better listeners than I am. Whatever it takes, just don’t throw your life away.”

If Hawke hadn’t been in her current state of severe injury, she absolutely would’ve had a stronger reaction to everything Varric had just told her. But considering her head still felt like a half-mashed potato, she wound up gaping at him like a cod someone had just hauled out of the harbor. 

With an uncharacteristic show of restraint, Varric ignored her dumbfounded state. “You don’t have to say anything,” he told her. “Just promise me you’ll keep trying to survive. If you can’t do it for your own sake. . .well, it might be selfish of me to say, but I’d like you to do it for mine.”

[dragonagecompanions]

Dragonagecompanions Masterlist- Inquisition Part 1

First thoughts on Inquisitor

Crossdressing Inquisitor

Inquisitor gets poisoned (Nonromanced version)

Inquisitor in lingerie (Cullen & Josephine here)

First thoughts on Corypheus

Inquisitor fainting

Inquisitor being deaf in one ear

Inquisitor possessed by a spirit

Inquisitor protecting them from a hit

Inquisitor giving them flowers

Josephine, Lelianna + Cassandra reacting to noble courting Inquisitor

Inquisitor can’t swim

After Trespasser (And Advisors here)

Inquisitor dyeing their hair

Inquisitor can do Skyrim shout

Child taking a shine to companions

Companions realizing they have deeper feelings for Inquisitor

Inquisitor having astraphobia

Inquisitor having self harm scars (And Advisors Here)

Inquisitor fussing over them

Inquisitor performing CPR

Cassandra if Lelianna hadn’t stopped her in the beginning

Solas with young inquisitor who considers him a father figure

Meeting the Hero of Ferelden

Inquisitor that grew up on the streets

Car or Motorcycle

Inquisitor with beautiful singing voice

Inquisitor getting a mabari

Nobles talking shit at Winter Palace

Inquisitor’s death post-trespasser

Inquisitor working for Corypheus

What kind of tumblr blogs the companions would run

Cullen reacting to Dexter - Dark Passenger Scene at Restaurant

Inquisitor gets surrounded

Inquisitor bring home an orphaned child

Inquisitor having a blood disease

Inquisitor being skilled in unarmed

Inquisitor with a scar across stomach

Inquisitor has a child from a previous relationship

Teen! Inquisitor getting drunk after finding out the truth about elven religion post trespasser

Child! Inquisitor asking about Blackwall after he disappears

Inquisitor has a panic attack during a war meeting

Solas reacting to falling for someone who is not an elf (GIF)

Finding the Inquisitor nearly passed out from an Anchor flare

Cassandra reacting to Inquisitor asking to her to read to them

Inquisitor speaking Qunlat

Reactions to the massacre of Lavellan clan

Learning about what the Joining entails (GIF)

Teen! Inquisitor falls deathly ill

Game franchise companions would be most interested in

Teen! Inquisitor gets hit on by a creep

Taking the Inquisitor’s virginity

Someone purposefully misgendering the Inquisitor

Books are getting burned and Inquisitor stops it

Inquisitor calling Cassandra Mom (GIF)

Companions reacting to Cole describe the Inquisitor’s feelings about them

Child! Inquisitor accidentally blowing crater in Skyhold

Inquisitor with luscious locks

Going to Wrestlemania

What it takes to get Vivienne, Dorian and Josephine to a spit take

Types of cars each companion would drive

Inquisitor lost a bet and runs through Skyhold naked

Companions realizing they are in love with the Inquisitor

Inquisitor has Chronic Fatigue Syndrome

Inquisitor wants to raise a dragon pup

Weddings with companions

Harding, Krem and Dagna finding out the Inquisitor has a crush on them

Companions’ greatest desires

Inquisitor asks them to take care of their child if they die

Qunari! Inquisitor with Golden Halla Horns (GIF)

Dorian reacting to Teen! Inquisitor calling him Dad

Which would they like better: Lord of the RIngs, Harry Potter, or Star Wars

Inquisitor bottle flips from Leliana’s foor onto Solas’s desk (GIF)

Iron Bull’s reaction to the Warden telling him stories about Sten

Companions find an amulet that makes you speak in limericks and haikus

Fenris as the Inquisitor (GIF)

Inquisitor that wants to try at least one of every meat they kill

Inquisitor has a creepy stalker

Josephine reacting to Child! Inquisitor saying gold isn’t her color

Parent! Inquisitor’s child telling romances that Inquisitor likes them (Krem, Dagna and Harding here)

Inquisitor being the author of the Song of Ice and Fire series

Inquisitor with epilepsy

Inquisitor singing to demons to try and heal them like Moana (GIF)

Inquisitor was an assassin on a job at the conclave (GIF)

Inquisitor’s reaction to their child telling the companions their feelings

Romances react to the Inquisitor giving them an affectionate kiss

Inquisitor that can turn anything into a weapon (GIF)

Cassandra falling for a woman Inquisitor

Inquisitor that rock any clothing they wear (GIF)

Cullen falling for a dude Inquisitor

Blackwall falling for a dude Inquisitor

Sera reacting to an ace inquisitor

Inquisitor is 101 mabari

Reaction to Solas pulling the Inquisitor into a kiss in front of everyone (GIF)

Josephine first realizing that she is bi

Qunari! Inquisitor taking out enemies with their horns (GIF)

Companions singing lullabies to a Child! inquisitor

Solas reacting to a Teen! Inquisitor looking grown up in Trespasser

Sera reacting to realizing she is a noble after marrying a Trevelyan Inquisitor

Reactions to an asexual inquisitor

Solas’s reaction to Inquisitor calling Cullen vhenan (GIF)

Blackwall’s reaction to the Inquisitor joking that his armor looks like a quilt (GIF)

Inquisitor’s main weapon is Excalibur from Soul Eater (GIF)

Blackwall’s reaction to the Inquisitor asking him for a strip tease (GIF)

Child! Inquisitor making them flower crowns

Inquisitor dancing with the ambassador at the Winter Palace (GIF)

What kind of presents they would give to a Child! Inquisitor on their birthday

What leaves Varric absolutely stunned

Dalish! Inquisitor wearing Dalish attire to the Winter Palace (GIF)

Post Trespasser Inquisitor saying they aren’t good enough for them

Sera reacting to Dalish! Inquisitor making dalish cookies (GIF)

Inquisitor saying I love you in the romances native tongue

Solas reacting to Inquisitor sneaking up and grabbing his junk (GIF)

Child! Inquisitor getting called knife ear

Varric calling a Dwarf dude! Inquisitor Bartrand

Inquisitor wearing formal attire (GIF)

Ace Inquisitor that doesn’t like sex with Iron Bull

Sera realizing the Hero gave her the painted box

Dorian’s reaction to being accepted by his partner’s family

Hogwarts Houses for the Companions

Inquisitor pinching their ass under the table during a war table mission (GIF)

Leliana’s reaction to the Hero telling the Inquisitor to look out for her

Inquisitor slapping an enemy so hard it knocks them off their feet (GIF)

Sera reacting to an Inquisitor who binds their chest

Cullen reacting to the Inquisitor giving him a dream catcher to get rid of his nightmares

Inquisitor giving them a bouquet that they picked on a quest (GIF)

Josephine’s reaction to a Mage! Inquisitor being told no one would love them

Inquisitor asking them to take them on a shopping trip to help them transition

Iron Bull’s reaction to learning the Inquisitor knows blood magic

Romancing Krem

Dorian reacting to an asexual Inquisitor that doesn’t like sex

Teen! Inquisitor getting into a fight with another teen (And Advisors Here)

Calm Inquisitor loses their temper (GIF)

Dorian meeting his and the Inquisitor’s child from the future

What makes the companions panic

Inquisitor falls in the fade with only the Warden and Hawke

Centaur Inquisitor  (GIF)

Teen! Inquisitor getting angsty over a crush

Modern day Languages the companions want to learn

Iron Bull’s reaction to his horns hurting his lover while sleeping

Pocket Ask

If the Inquisitor had a crush on Corypheus (GIF)

Teen! Inquisitor having a panic attack

Inquisitor Zevran (And Advisors Here)

Josephine’s reaction to the Inquisitor forcing themself to stay awake due to nightmares

Solas finding out the Lavellan has Qunari blood (GIF)

Companions’ ideal gifts

Someone misgendering a trans inquisitor (GIF)

Inquisitor that has Ehlers-Danlos Sydrome

ASOIAF! Universe: Reading the Red Wedding

Finding the Inquisitor covered in blood and with a shovel

Finding the Inquisitor in their room, giggling like a child on the floor (GIF)

Cullen, Dorian and Solas reacting to the Inquisitor nearly made tranquil

Inquisitor who randomly coughs up blood (GIF)

Teen! Inquisitor going off to college

Iron Bull reacts to a Mage Qunari Inquisitor! who is a bit scared of him

Comforting an agender Teen! Inquisitor

Child! Inquisitor climbing onto one of the rooftops (GIF)

Dorian and Dude Elven! Inquisitor holding hands at a party

Sera thinks the Ace! Inquisitor is also aro but Inquisitor likes Sera

Ace! Inquisitor nearly forcing themself to have sex because they think that’s what “normal” couples do- have sex

Cassandra and Woman! Inquisitor come out publicly

Random gifs for companions (GIF)

Inquisitor reveals that they are a vampire

Iron Bull reacting to the Inquisitor having a panic attack

Inquisitor is a Khajiit from the Elder Scrolls series

Dorian receiving news of the Inquisitor’s death (romance)

Child! Inquisitor whose parents think they could always do better

Which companions would be most likely to adopt

Someone tries to tease about Josephine and the Inquisitor’s relationship

Inquisitor being the child of the Hero of Fereldon

Inquisitor calling Solas “egghead” (GIF)

Vivienne’s reaction to the Inquisitor chewing loudly at dinner

Child! Inquisitor refuses to eat healthy

Teen! Inquisitor doesn’t feel like they are fit to lead because they are young

ASOIAF! Universe: reacting to the Purple Wedding

Inquisitor that shouts attack names in battle (GIF)

First time seeing the Inquisitor in Antaam-saar (GIF)

Finding out the Inquisitor is ticklish and doesn’t mind being tickled (GIF)

Usually serious Inquisitor makes a pun (GIF)

Leliana’s reaction to an Inquisitor using a cell at the winter palace (GIF)

Iron Bull’s reaction to his lover being conscious about how they look

Free day at the beach

Inquisitor who cuddles whoever is closest in their sleep

Jack of all trades Inquisitor who doesn’t know how to fight

Inquisitor stays in the fade in place of Hawke or the Warden

Leliana, Dorian and Vivenne’s advice on proposing to Josephine

Dalish! Inquisitor who can’t read well

Noble sneering at a Child! Inquisitor because of their age

[aria-i-adagio]

30 Day DA OC Challenge, Day 19: Courtship

Day 19: Courtship

Does your OC get involved romantically or sexually with anybody? When do they first fall for them or get involved? If they fall in love, when does it happen? Does the relationship last?

Anders! (And yes, it lasts, for better or worse.)

[most of this is a repeat from this post]

I tend to go with the idea that no matter what romance route is played that Anders has at least some romantic interest in Hawke from Act 1. But after Karl’s death, I think there’s a combination of both not being ready and believing that he’s too dangerous for anyone to be in a relationship with him.

Adrian was interested in Anders from very early on. An oddly attractive man with a ‘sexy, tortured look’ develops into honest admiration of the fact that Anders is one of the few people in Kirkwall who’s actually interested in doing something good. But he’s A) used to playing his cards close to his chest (as while Ferelden may not particularly care about same-sex relationships, there does seem to be something of an expectation that such relationships shouldn’t get in the way of family expectations and making children, Leandra has definitely messed with his head, etc.), and B) he’s a small, somewhat insecure ball of anxiety who’s afraid of rejection. He also very good at repressing things, so for most of Act 1, he’s in denial of being interested beyond a “yep, that one’s handsome.”

However, have a show rather than tell.

Hawke has determined that he does not like the Deep Roads. And he hates Bartrand. Who the fuck does that? Leaves their brother to die over a chunk of stone, or whatever that idol was made of?

You let your brother die. You left him.

That was different. I couldn’t protect him. I tried, I swear.

Bethany sneaks up on him from behind and loops her arm through his. She leans her head on his shoulder. “Carver was already dead, ‘Dri.”

He knows that she can’t actually read minds, but sometimes he wonders whether she picked the skill up somewhere. Or maybe it’s a little sister thing. He stops walking and tilts his head to the side, touching his cheek to her hair. “I should have -”

“If any of us could have, we would have.” Bethany pats the other side of his face. “Look about, is this a decently safe place?”

The Deep Roads do require a qualifier for the word safe. Adrian lifts his head and glances around. Ahead, there’s a bridge over a chasm. If it’s sturdy enough, it will give them good lines of sight and walls on two sides. “Ahead will do.”

“Thanks, ‘Dri.” Bethany lets go of his arm and jogs ahead to where Varric and Anders are walking together, both with their weapons in hand, reasoning that if Anders could sense darkspawn, Varric might be able to take them down with Bianca before they got too close. Or thin them out. “Hey. Think it’s night yet?”

“You’re the only Sunshine I see. What’s your opinion?”

“That I’m tired.”

Varric looks around and shrugs. “Then it’s night. Might as well make camp.”

Hawke keeps watch well after they've eaten a sad and meager (who knows how long they'll be searching for an exit now?) meal of hard bread. Bethany told him that he didn't need to; the glyphs she and Anders had set on either end of the bridge would last far past the time Varric's little clockwork watch was set to come. But he couldn't talk himself into following her advice. Darkspawn had killed Carver. They were not going to take Bethany from him.

He isn't the only one still awake. Anders had laid out his bedroll as close to the fire as he could, and he huddles close to the glow of the embers. He’d panicked when Bartrand swung the door closed on in, and once it became clear that neither Varric nore Hawke would be able to pick the locking mechanism, cast multiple spells at the door before giving up on the idea of breaking through it by force. The mage had been quiet since, not even Varric had been able to draw him out.

"You alright?"

Anders lifts his face. There are always dark circles around his eyes, but they look worse in the low light of the fire. "I hate the Deep Roads."

"You could have said no." Hawke asked him to come because he had experience with the Deep Roads, and Darkspawn, and according to what was said of the Grey Wardens would be able to sense them ahead of time. "I would have understood."

Anders smiles grimly. "They're worse without a cat."

"You should try to sleep."

"You should too. Those glyphs I set were designed by a Warden mage. They're strong. This spot is as safe as it's going to get."

"Good to know." Hawke lies down, unsure whether he'll sleep, or just rest his eyes and listen for trouble. "Hey, Anders -"

"Yes?"

"Thanks for coming with me."

"Well, I'm here now."

It might have been an hour, it might have been two, and Hawke might have fallen asleep, or he might have been awake the whole time, but his eyes snap open the moment he hears something other than the crackling of coals. A low, distressed groan and panicked, incoherent mumbling. Hawke opens his eyes. There’s just enough of a glow left in the few embers to see Anders rolling over fitfully, flinging his arm out, nearly managing to catch his fingers in what’s left of the fire. His other arm falls over his mouth, muffling what might have been a scream if allowed to escape.

Hawke tosses off his blanket and crawls across the pavers to him. As he pulls Anders outstretched arm back from the fire, the mage’s eyes snap open and he bolts upright with a gasp, forehead knocking against Hawke’s chin.

“Hey there. You were dreaming.”

“I can hear them.” Anders curls forward, draws his long legs against his chest, and wraps his arms around his knees. “I can still hear it.”

"Hear what? The darkspawn?"

Anders doesn't respond with words, he just goes limp and slumps to the side. Adrian catches him and lets him lean his head against his shoulder. He's perfectly still for a minute, then awkwardly runs his hand through the mage's hair, not entirely sure Anders is awake enough to know where he is, much less who's holding him.

"Take a few deep breaths, okay?" Adrian wraps his other arm around Anders' and pats his shoulder. His joke about Anders 'sexy, tortured look' didn't seem quite as funny at the moment. "Nothing has tripped the glyphs you set. We're okay."

Anders' breathing calms, at least a little. "It's so dark. I can't do this again. I can't."

"I'd build back up the fire for you, but there's no fuel left." Varric had carefully gathered a certain dry fungus from the walls of the cages as they walked. It was the only combustible material available. "Do you hear them more, in the dark?"

"Or I hear nothing in the dark. Not a sound, not a word. I'm alone in it again, and..." The pitch and volume of his voice begins to rise and on instinct, Adrian hugs him tightly. Maker, the poor man is miserable. Hawke never would have asked him to come if he had only known.

Anders shudders and hiccups. "I can't be alone in the dark."

"I'm here." What happened to Anders that made the dark so terrifying? The Deep Roads themselves weren't always dark. Parts were. Other parts were lit by the glow of some sort of marvelous dwarven lamps that still worked after centuries. This wasn't one of those areas, and the lower the embers grow, the more Anders trembles. Without really noticing it, Adrian begins to rub his back and whisper in his ear, the way he sometimes had when one or the other of the twins woke with a childhood nightmare.

He doesn't know Anders well. It's maybe been three or four months since he sought him out to get the maps of the Deep Roads. He's good to know though - a good man. Bethany agrees. And Varric had taken the mage under his wing; Hawke knew the dwarf was paying off the Carta to leave the Darktown clinic alone.

Anders is also handsome in his own way, devilishly funny, and flirtatious, despite the very sad look he gets in his eyes if someone mentions the word Tranquil. 'I hadn't seen him in years,' Anders said, the one time Adrian got him to talk. 'But you know how it is, with first loves.'

Adrian does not actually know how it is with first loves. What relationships he had in Lothering weren't love affairs, just temporary flings with a presumed end date. A Ferelden freeholder needs a wife, needs children to help him work the land. It's just the way of things. No sense in getting too attached.

Like he's getting attached to this mage who hides years of sadness underneath dry humor. Anders has put himself back together a few times already, and right now, the cracks are showing.

"Lay back down. I'll stay with you."

It takes a few more shivers and hiccups before Anders does stretch his long limbs back out. Adrian intends to just sit next to him, maybe keep their fingers together, but Anders pulls at his arm until he lies down beside him on the narrow bedroll, on his side with his head cushioned on his folded arm. Adrian hesitantly strokes Anders' hair, and when that earns him a soft sigh, loops his free arm around the other man and snuggles a bit closer.

After all, it's not just dark in the Deep Roads, it's damn chilly as well. That’s what he tells himself.

When Varric’s little mechanical clock chimes a fake morning, Hawke still curled up around Anders, and Bethany is smirking at him.

[beelzebard]

From the Hawke asks, maybe Isabela 5, Merrill 4, Varric 2 & 3, Anders 3, and Sebastian 5?

thank you for the ask!!

Was your Hawke close with Isabela throughout the Acts of Kirkwall? Did they remain in contact with her?

They were very close in their early years, often passing jokes and sharing raunchy stories, but the situation with the Tome of Koslun definitely put the tension up really high. They got guilt tripped into letting her have it, but was relieved when she came back to return the tome.

Their relationship quickly healed over the years, and they still keep in contact with her. She sends them letters and trinkets from whatever city she happens to be in at the time, or just stuff she finds at sea.

What sort of relationship did your Hawke have with Merrill? Were they protective of her?

Atlas was wary of Merrill at first because of her blood magic, but quickly became protective of her. They worried about some of her decisions, especially with the mirror, but never tried to stop her because they knew it was her choice to make.

Was your Hawke comfortable with Varric’s story-telling hobby? Did they predict that Varric would write a story about them?

They loved Varric's storytelling, and probably encouraged it a bit more than they should've. They joked a couple of times that Varric should write a story about them after they became Champion, but they didn't think he would actually do it until they got the first published copy of The Tale of the Champion.

Did your Hawke allow Varric to keep the lyrium shard? Why or why not?

Hell no. Atlas did not trust that shit one bit. It made Bartrand leave them for dead and seeing how it immediately made Varric a bit crazy made them want to get rid of that shard as fast as possible.

What was your Hawke’s relationship with Anders like before the Chantry explosion? How did the explosion change their perception of him?

Their relationship started off well but eventually became strained over the years as Anders' mental health worsened and Justice's pull became stronger. Atlas tried to help him by bringing him food and even offering them access to the hidden passage to their estate.

Act 3 was definitely a turning point in their relationship though; Atlas knew he was hiding something from them but didn't know what, but they eventually helped Anders. They get guilt tripped too easily.

The Chantry explosion basically ruined what was left. They understood why they did it but the fact that it got Meredith to invoke the Rite of Annulment was very stressful on them. I don't know if Atlas could bring themself to kill Anders, but it would take a long time to mend their relationship if Anders lived.

Was your Hawke friendly or hostile towards Sebastian and why?

Atlas was pretty friendly towards Sebastian, and supported him staying in the Chantry because they could see that he was happy here. They also did have a bit of a crush on him, but they never pursued it because they assumed he wouldn't be interested because of Chantry rules about relationships.

[novamm66]

From Earth to Sky - Chapter Ten

--

Who else is happy it’s Friday! I sure am. It means it is new chapter day!

This chapter was challenging. I tried to write it without giving away some major plot points from my first story Red Sky in the Morning. 

I know that I am giving Bianca a bad time in my story. It’s just how it worked out in my head. 

Enjoy!

--

“Get him killed, and I’ll feed you your own eyeballs, Inquisitor.”

Bianca’s parting shot snapped the last of Kiaya’s restraint, and in a blink, Kiaya had Bianca pinned to the wall. Varric had never seen Kiaya lash out like this before. Her level head was something everyone had come to count on. But there was no sign of it now.

“How dare you.” Kiaya snarled as she pressed her arm against Bianca’s throat. “After this? You think locking this door fixes anything? The damage is done. That stuff has killed hundreds, possibly thousands, and polluted lands for who knows how long. The damage you have done will affect generations. I have already pulled a spike the size of my arm out of Varric’s back, and I am having a lot of trouble not blaming you for it getting there.” Bianca’s eyes flicked to Varric’s briefly, and he nodded, confirming what Kiaya said.

“I,” Bianca shuttered, but Kiaya cut her off.

“I am doing everything in my power to put the demon you let out back in its bottle. But the damage is done, and you are partly responsible for that,” Kiaya growled. “So don’t you dare threaten me. It is my advice,” Kiaya pressed on Bianca’s throat, causing the other woman to wheeze. “That you get as far away from me as quickly as you can before I lose what little sense I have left.”

Kiaya released her hold and backed up, her hands were glowing with power, and the mark was in full form. Bianca shot Varric one more glance before she was gone.

Bianca’s footsteps faded into silence. Dorian coughed. “Well, then.”

“Smudges,” Varric began, but he stopped speaking when Kiaya looked at him. Her fury had not receded. It burned in her eyes and seemed to pulse in the air.

“Let’s get back to camp.” Kiaya’s tone was clipped, controlled, and the group silently followed her out of the cave.

There was no sign of Bianca outside. Kiaya was breathing hard as she glanced around. “Thom, would you mind carrying my gear back to camp?” Without waiting for an answer, Kiaya stripped to her smalls. Then walked to the cliff edge next to the waterfall and dove into the deep pool below.

Varric helped gather up Kiaya’s things while Dorian watched the water. “If you are waiting for her to surface, you may be here a while,” Varric said to the mage.

“I know, I was just contemplating the distasteful idea of going after her,” Dorian answered.

“Best to leave her be,” Thom said as he led the way down the path. “Give her time. Also, I would bet you wouldn’t be quite as successful with that dive, although I would pay some coins to see it.”

Dorian’s vehement denial of anyone every seeing The tension that Kiaya had left behind began to ease as Dorian denied anyone ever seeing him high dive.

Varric spared one more worried glance at the water before hurrying after his two companions. “First round is on me this evening, gents. Let’s get back to camp.”

—

It was late, but Cassandra was still awake. She had trouble falling asleep without Varric beside her now. She was reading in Varric’s moth-eaten desk chair with a blanket over her bare legs.

Cassandra snapped the book closed when she heard his familiar footsteps on the stairs. Varric looked exhausted when he came through the door, but he perked up when he saw her. Cassandra immediately stood and went to him, wrapping her arms around him as his head rested on her chest. His pack hit the floor with a thud before Varric mirrored her position. Cassandra revelled in the feeling of well-being that came from simply holding him.

It lasted until Cassandra was pinched by his armour, and she hissed at the spark of pain. She helped him undo the many buckles that held his kit together, not speaking until the last piece was set aside, and they settled into bed together. Varric rolled his shoulders and stretched. Cassandra combed her fingers through his hair, trying to ease the tension he still held.

“How did it go?” Cassandra asked, and Varric’s answering sigh ghosted across her collar bone.

“Could have been better.” Varric pulled Cassandra tighter into his side. “Could have been worse too, I suppose. We closed the door to the Deep Roads, but it was Bianca that gave Corypheus access. Not intentionally but still.”

“That is not your fault.” Cass fought to sound calm through her anger on Varric’s behalf. “You are not responsible for the actions of others.”

“No, just my own.” Varric sounded defeated. “If Bartrand and I had never organized that expedition, so much would be different.”

Cassandra’s heart ached at the pain in his voice. “No one blames you, Varric.”

“Except myself.” Varric waved away Cass’s protest and changed the subject. “So Smudges finally show her temper. She almost throttled Bianca. It was a near thing.”

“What?” Cassandra sat up in surprise.

“Oh, yes. Smudges has a temper that we have never seen before, and I hope to never see again.” Varric gave her a crooked smile. But Cassandra could see weariness etched in his features. He looked so tired like this venture had taken more out of him than he wanted to let on. Cassandra leaned down and gently kissed him, offering the comfort she couldn’t find the words to express. Cassandra lay down again, nestling her head against Varric’s shoulder, gently kissing the side of his neck. “You should sleep now. You can tell me in the morning. If you want to.”

The candle burned low and went out. Cassandra was almost asleep, lulled by the steady beat of Varric’s heart.

“I’m happy you are here, Cass.” Varric murmured, his voice clouded with sleep.

“Always,” Cassandra said as the pull of the fade took her.

---

Cassandra gripped the stone baluster hard enough that her knuckles ached. She was expected at the Herald’s Rest. But Kiaya’s confession had thrown Cassandra into turmoil. Her shock had led to anger, which had sparked an argument with Varric.

Cassandra was startled when Cullen settled against the wall next to her.

“How long have you known?” Cassandra asked through gritted teeth.

Cullen sighed. “She told me after the battle at Adamant.”

“Fuck!” Cassandra pushed off the wall and paced to the tower and back. “How am I…” Cassandra couldn’t finish her question. She kicked the wall before cursing again.

“I know how you feel.” Cullen waved off her skeptical look. “You feel like everything that has been guiding you is false. That suddenly all the good you wanted to do in this life may be flawed, and you are picking apart every decision, every act. The guidelines you have believed in for so long are suddenly not where you expect them to be.”

“This is starting to sound oddly familiar,” Cassandra said dryly. Cullen was echoing the words she had said to him when she recruited him in Kirkwall.

Cullen grinned at her and continued. “What you have now is an opportunity to form your own guidelines…”

“Build a world that you want to see.” Cassandra finished for him, rolling her eyes. “And I dragged you into this nightmare.”

“Not the way I see it. You were right. We are changing the world by trying to hold it together.”

“How can this not change things?” Cassandra could feel her anger giving way.

“What does it actually change?” Cullen asked.

Cass groaned. “I don’t know. How did you forgive her?”

Cullen was quiet for a moment, watching the sunset colours start to bloom. “I walked away from Kiaya when she told me. At that moment, all I could see was my fears come to life.”

Cassandra gave Cullen a studied look. Shame was apparent on his face. “How far did you get?” She asked.

“A few paces, then I went back.” Cullen answer with a bone-weary sigh. “I remembered who she is and everything that she has done for us, all while carrying a fifteen-year-old secret and hating herself for it.”

Cullen met Cassandra’s eyes. “She the strongest person I know, Cass. Would you want to be judged on what you did fifteen years ago? I certainly don’t. Is there anything you can do to her that is worse than what she does to herself? Kiaya cares for people so much, you have seen it, is that so easily forgotten?”

“No. It’s not.” Cassandra’s anger was fading.

Cullen looked down as the pub door opened, and the sounds of merriment laughter spilled out. “It’s good of Varric to organize a cards night. Kiaya needs to know that she’s not alone.”

“Varric has a good heart,” Cassandra replied.

“So do you,” Cullen said. “And so does Kiaya.”

Cassandra exhaled the last of her anger. She could see worry still on Cullen’s face, and she smiled at her friend. “You can relax. I owe Kiaya my life a few times over, and I know nothing has really changed. It was just so unexpected.”

Cullen relaxed. “I know. I still have moments when I don’t believe it.”

“Alright,” Cassandra smacked her palms down on the stone parapet hard enough to sting. “Now, I really need a drink.”

Cullen laughed. “Me too, but not that stuff that Bull drinks or Kiaya’s Scramble. I need to be able to function tomorrow.”

---

[frostbite-711]

TWO HEARTS ONE LOVE

CHAPTER 1

Hawke stood in her family home in Hightown, the one that had been given to her mother but then sold by her sleazy uncle, in front of the mirror as she tried to tame her hair and sort her emotions after having another nightmare.

She thought back to how because of her uncle’s actions, she’d used money she’d gained from the Deep Roads Expedition to purchase her home back — but at a steep price.

Giving up on taming her the wave and spikes in her raven-black hair, she walked out of her room and looked down the balcony where her mother stood and sighed to herself. She’d lost her sister in the Deep Roads, and all because Varric’s brother Bartrand had betrayed them, leaving her as her mother’s last living child.

Hawke clenched her fists in anger. Her sister hadn’t deserved her fate, but in a way, it might have been better. This way, Bethany would never have to worry about going to the circle.

Hawke remembered when she came home and told her mother. They were both devastated and mourned her loss. Hawke’s friends had come to offer condolences, including Fenris, which had been a welcome surprise considering how he felt about mages.

That had been almost two years ago, but Hawke never once forgot Bartrand and what his betrayal had cost her.

Hawke straightened, burying her anger down once again. This moping about would have to end for the time being as there were things she needed to get done and people to see. The Viscount has called her to come speak with him regarding the Qunari who were still in the city, after three years.

After her meeting with the Viscount, she decided to pay a visit to all her friends, to check up on them since she hadn’t had much time to speak with them with all the problems brewing in Kirkwall around the Qunari as well as mourning her sister and getting her family’s home back.

First off came Fenris, as he was the only other one who lived in Hightown. As she came upon the mansion he “squatted” in, she couldn’t help but feel butterflies flutter inside her. Last time she spoke to him was after her sister’s funeral, and she hadn’t had the courage to talk to him since, despite her growing feelings for him. They hadn’t been able to bring Bethany’s body out of the deep roads after she’d died, and when she had gone to see if she could find the body again, it was gone.

Hawke sighed to herself as she stood outside the door to Fenris’s mansion before she steeled her nerves and stepped inside.

The place hadn’t seemed to change much in the past three years except for some moving of some furniture and cleaning up a bit of what had been left behind by Danarius, but not much. Fenris, it seems, had been doing other things besides maintaining the mansion -- not that it was his in the first place, meaning he didn’t have the obligation to do so.

As she walked through the quiet mansion, she couldn’t help but wonder how it felt to be in such a large space all by yourself. She’d never known what it was like to be alone as she’d lived with her family for most of her life. Even now, she still had her mother who stayed in the mansion with her.

She found Fenris in the main room that was much like her bedroom at her mansion. He was pacing a bit but stopped as she walked in. “Hawke,” he greeted her, giving her a look up and down.

She gave him a nod and smiled a tad. “How are you, Fenris?” she asked.

He shrugged in response. “I found out that this house wasn’t owned by Danarius but by some Tevinter merchant. I assume he was encouraged to leave, or was killed. It’s been three years, and there has been no sign of my former master.”

She frowned at this information and placing one hand on her chin and the other across her stomach, began to pace in thought. “I see. Perhaps he’s given up the chase?” she said, glancing at him. Even if she hated slavers, she didn’t know what would happen if she killed a magister. Perhaps the imperium would strike back on Hawke and her friends, or perhaps they wouldn’t care in the slightest.

“Perhaps. But I won’t rest easy until I know that he is dead.”

“Well, if we ever get more information on him, I will certainly enjoy helping you put him down,” she told him. “No one should have to be enslaved.”

Fenris looked at Hawke and gave her a very deep and meaningful look. “Thank you...that means a lot to me,” he said with a slight smile touching his lips.

Hawke and Fenris fell silent, Hawke unsure of what to do as a small part of her began to yearn for his touch. Seeing him and standing this close in his mansion with no one else around...her gaze darted to his lips and not for the first time, she wondered how they would feel pressed against hers, how his touch would ignite her as they trailed along her skin. She bit her lip and cleared her throat, even while she felt a blush rise up her cheeks. “Right, I should probably get going. I need to check in on everyone else, maker knows they’re too busy to come see me themselves,” she said, excusing herself and leaving the mansion, not waiting for Fenris to respond.

Once she had exited the mansion, she leaned against a wall, resting her head against the stone and taking several deep breaths. She hadn’t realized how much her affection for him had grown. She didn’t know how he felt or if he would return her feelings. Maker’s Breath -- she was in big trouble. It would be hard to be around him if her fantasies kept plaguing her everytime she was around him.

Shaking her head and slapping her cheeks to clear her head, she decided to head down to the Hanged Man, perhaps Isabella or Varric would be able to help her clear her head, even if it was via drinking.

~ * ~ * ~

Fenris watched Julliet Hawke silently after he’d thanked her. He hadn’t really expected her to fall silent, but as she did so, he found himself taking in her appearance. Her raven black hair, smooth and yet spikey at the same time -- how she managed that was a wonder to him. His gaze met her stunning blue eyes, and he couldn’t help but be drawn into the ocean blue depths that stared back at him. It took him some effort to shift his gaze as he noticed the slight blush creeping up her face.

He frowned, confused at the reaction, wondering what the rogue could be thinking about that would garner such a reaction. But before he thought to bring it up, she broke the silence and left. With her back turned and her hurriedly rushing out of the room, he reached out to stop her, but then froze.

He didn’t understand why he had wanted to stop her. As she left, any protests from him died as quickly as they came, he let his arm drop and turned to look at the fireplace. Why had he wanted to stop her? Sure, she was a very beautiful woman, and her fiery attitude and stubbornness was attractive to him, but it still made little sense to him.

While he stood, brooding in his thoughts, he couldn’t help but think about how her hair looked, and the curves of her body. And he wondered how it would feel to caress her, to tangle his fingers in her hair, to kiss her soft lips, to--he stopped that train of thought before it went too far.

Despite him coming to realize his feelings for her that were growing every day, he knew he couldn’t pursue her. At least not until he was certain Danarius was dead and he would no longer be hunted by Imperium slavers. He would never be completely free until his demons that haunted him and forced him to do things he didn’t like were gone.

He sighed and shook his head again. He would have to keep his feelings for Hawke locked up tight and hope nothing she or anyone did would let them out. He couldn’t bear to hurt her if he ended up not being able to find and kill Danarius. For the time being though, he needed a drink, and not one from the cellar. He needed one from the Hanged Man.

[doctorhawke]

all six of my oc hawkes in one big thing, i have an au where they are all a big happy family and run amok in kirkwall

below the cut theres “brief” bios for them all (including their names because my renditions of their handwriting might not be very legible) and a little chart showing more insight into their personality makeup

all the ages are from act 1, after a year in kirkwall, relative to carver and bethany’s 20 (fyi they both survive in this au and both become grey wardens. cannot IMAGINE that any of these hawkes would let one of their littlest siblings fight an ogre 1v1 when theres literally eight of them lmfao they tag team it like they do everything)

steve hawke- he/him, age 27, adopted by the hawkes at 8. steve is a mage, a healer, and a pacifist. as such when there are fights he will focus on incapacitating enemies without harming them (force magic and mind blast comes in handy) and especially on supporting the team through healing. he’s gay and immediately takes to anders, mainly because he spends a lot of time helping in his clinic. 

he strongly believes in mage rights especially as malcolm imparted a lot of responsibility on him towards his younger mage siblings, nyx and bethany. he’s protective and a bit of a worrier, though as time goes on in kirkwall he becomes more and more exhausted, and starts to cope through making light of things. post-game, he and anders are on the run. 

—————————

kit hawke- he/him, age 24, bio kid, and a dual-wielding rogue. he’s bold, charming, and a bit of a pessimist- all of which kirkwall amplifies by virtue of being a crazy fucking city. kit is also pretty business minded and usually spearheads bone pit related shenanigans. varric (who deeply cares for all the hawkes of course) immediately takes to him and the two are inseparable. 

kit is bi, and likes to have fun, though over time he falls for both isabela and fenris, and over time the three get together and become the most impressive trio you ever saw. all kit’s siblings are kind of like “are you serious dude, we have a limited number of friends and you end up with two of them? what about the rest of us” but considering the amount of drama and heartbreak kit undergoes over the years in relation to his love life, they all kind of figure he’s earned the happy ending. post-game the three of them become pirates on isabela’s ship and free slaves in between tracking down hidden treasure or whatever it is that pirates do, and they eventually have adorable baby twins. 

—————————-

syl hawke- she/her, age 26, bio kid but only leandra’s, she actually is varric’s half sibling (though she does NOT know this and the sibling rivalry that develops upon them meeting is incomprehensible to the both of them). so syl is the shortest of the bunch, and looks a lot more like varric and bartrand than kit, carver, or bethany, despite them all being related. 

syl’s the only warrior of the group (other than carver- a dynamic duo), fights with hammers exclusively, and has a tendency to be super intense. she doesn’t really get humor at all, in the rare case that she accidentally makes a joke and people laugh she assumes they’re laughing AT her. she’s also very shoot first and ask questions later, and the only hawke more protective than steve is. her big sister energy is off the charts and she’s prepared to kill any templar that so much as looks at her family. as such she’s staunchly pro-mage.

she’s a lesbian and has massive game despite not really being any good at flirting- it’s probably her sheer intensity. she and isabela have a brief fling, tallis is very taken with her, and she has a rivalry-fueled sexual tension with aveline for ages (the long road is a VERY fun quest to play through with syl). however she was always very supportive of and close with merrill and eventually the two fall in love. once they’re together they’re insanely sweet and have mega chemistry and i love them so fucking much. post-game they’re forced to leave kirkwall but end up living in the denerim alienage.

—————————-

lith hawke- she/her, age 25, adopted by the hawkes at 9 along with her twin nyx. an archer rogue, with speed taking precedence over power or precision. lith is a lot to take in okay. she’s the only one who’s pro-templar in the group, and is a rabid andrastian. back home in lothering her chantry beliefs were instrumental in keeping her family safe, as she not only knew every templar by name (as the whole family did) but also is endlessly trustworthy to them and to all the chantry sisters and mothers. countless times a templar might have come calling to take away one of her siblings or her father, but was dissuaded by lith- after all, little lith hawke would NEVER help hide apostates, right?

she supports her siblings because she believes that in the end their souls will be saved. (the only thing that freaks her out more than nyx’s blood magic is when syl casually drops that she’s thinking about converting to merrill’s religion.) she doesn’t trust mages if they aren’t related to her, and always advocates for the circle when given the chance. she’s best friends with fenris and they hang out a lot, more and more as the years pass. since merrill and anders both move into the hawke estate (which was already a bit of a circus, can you imagine the chaos?) lith finds herself more and more outnumbered ideologically and often escapes to fenris’ mansion for some quiet. 

during the endgame, she sides against her family and the mages. she basically has a villainous breakdown. she helps them kill meredith and once it’s revealed that meredith had been influenced by the lyrium idol, lith’s whole worldview is pretty much shattered. post-game she leaves the city and seeks out her cousin, ash amell (i have eight wardens so im not going to get into this but basically my amell and my cousland (eve) are in a gay throuple with leliana and its dope as all hell). spending time with ash, eve, and leliana is very healing for her, but all her siblings assume she’s dead and she doesn’t see them for years after kirkwall. 

—————————-

nyx hawke- they/them, age 25, adopted by the hawkes at 9 along with their twin lith. nyx is the blood mage of the group, and is an absolute icon quite frankly. they’re very chaotic, and especially close with kit, merrill, and isabela. nyx has a ton of fun fighting, and they and syl make an especially good team in combat. nyx always looks up to syl and its very sweet, and syl is the only one in the family who never once messed up nyx’s pronouns (everyone is very good about this of course, and by kirkwall its a non-issue, but even lith slipped up once or twice early on). 

they have very noodly arms because they’ve never had to worry about fighting hand to hand when running out of mana, because of the blood magic. this leads to quite a bit of teasing but tbh they pull it off. nyx is bi and has a thing with isabela for a short while but in the end they’re better as best friends. 

nyx and lith are very close. they’re often perfectly in sync when doing things, especially in combat, and have that twin esp thing going on which can get spooky at times. however they also bicker a lot, and obviously clash on ideology pretty much constantly. though this is the norm nyx always assumed they would have each other’s backs no matter what when it came down to the nitty gritty, and lith’s betrayal during the endgame is really heartbreaking for them. 

over the years anders and nyx do a lot of collaborating when it comes to mage rights. they help him polish his manifesto, and smuggle mages out of the gallows. the only real reason nyx isn’t brought into the loop on the chantry explosion was a mixtures of anders’ crushing guilt and his knowledge that if he told nyx and not steve, steve would be really hurt. (however he couldn’t tell steve because he didn’t want the deaths to be on steve’s conscience- anders knows he definitely would have helped if it came down to that). post-game nyx goes on to be one of the leaders of the mage rebellion.

—————————-

lou hawke- he/him, age 22, adopted by the hawkes at 10. hes a cowboy and i love him. an archer rogue, he prioritizes powerful firing over speed or precision. he’s a massive sweetheart, terminally polite, and has massive ears that he’s self-conscious of and tries to cover with his hair. however whenever his hair gets long enough to cover them leandra starts poking and prodding him to get a trim and he’s always too soft to refuse for long, beginning the cycle again (and after leandra is murdered he always keeps his hair to her liking- he gets weepy if it grows too long). he’s the only hawke i’ve drawn without his in-game outfit because this fucking game doesn’t have cowboy hats or cute shirts with tassles and i do what i want. 

lou also plays instruments, he’s got a guitar and a harmonica and plays the piano passably. he IS the piano man in the eyes of the hanged man’s patrons. sing us a song, they tell him, etc. he manages ten minutes of harmonica in the deep roads, citing excellent acoustics, until anders tells him to stop because the darkspawn will hear. when the hawkes get rich lou buys a horse and goes for morning rides out on the wounded coast. 

lou is bi, and runs around for years with a massive crush on isabela but that doesn’t exactly work out. he ends up with jethann (theres a lot of lore here but suffice it to say its extremely tender) and post-game they leave kirkwall and end up owning a ranch not far outside denerim. lou hires lots of farmhands that end up looking to him as a father figure and its super sweet, and jethann refuses to do manual labor. 

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this got insanely long i am SO sorry flkjsdlkgjlkcxjglsfkd

feel free to send any asks relating to them because i really love this family so much and could talk about them forever dlfskjlxcjglskd if you couldnt tell from this diatribe

[sabraefics]

Prompt: Getting Lost Somewhere Pairing: Light M!Handers

-----

There weren’t many constants in Hawke’s life. Between their family always running from the Templars, running from the Blight, and then struggling for a whole year to find their feet in Kirkwall, stability was never a luxury he’d really been granted. But one of the very few things he could count on being there was his lousy sense of direction, though honestly that flaw was more resented than counted on.

It hadn’t really been a problem for him back in Ferelden, where all the open villages and wide streets were easy enough to memorize, but right now he wasn’t in Ferelden. No, he and half of his friends were trapped in an abandoned Dwarven thaig, miles underground, and Hawke was starting to wonder if this place was purposely designed for outsiders to get lost and die in.

Typically, Hawke liked to look at violence as a last resort, charming his way out of any trouble he couldn’t settle with smooth actions. But oh, when he caught up to Bartrand he was going to strangle that traitorous fucker with his own innards.

Or, if they all ended up dying down here before catching up to Bartrand, Hawke was at the very least going to haunt him for the rest of his days. Take that!

“Not trying to sound like the voice of doom or anything-” Varric suddenly speaks up as they’re walking down the length of another hallway, causing Hawke, Anders, and Isabela to all look back at the dwarf that was bringing up the rear of the group. “-but I’m almost positive that we’ve gone through this corridor already.”

Hawke frowns, looking at the stone-carved walls and pillars around them. He tries to seek out something familiar but all of the hallways and rooms that they’d gone through so far looked so similar to him that they could’ve walked through this same corridor a dozen times and been none the wiser.

“Maybe it all just looks the same and we haven’t actually been wandering in circles for Maker knows how long?” Hawke replies, trying to sound at least a little hopeful but Varric just looks as skeptical as he feels. He was really going to have to work on sounding more optimistic if he wanted to keep their spirits up.

“No, we’ve definitely been here before,” Isabela says, and Hawke looks over to see her pointing towards something marked on one of the pillars beside her. He quickly moves forward to get a closer look but then stops mid-step when he realizes that the ‘symbol’ is just a crudely drawn erection carved into the stone. He blinks before meeting Isabela’s gaze, and she just grins back at him as shameless as ever. “What? I was marking the route.”

“Thanks, Bela,” Hawke replies in a deadpan tone before he sighs, looking around the corridor before he turns to face the group. “Okay, so we definitely just walked in a circle. Or a square, knowing how old Dwarves liked to think. Thoughts?”

“My thought is that trusting Bartrand and coming down here might not have been our best idea,” Anders says, sitting down on a broken chunk of what was probably once a pillar before he meets Hawke’s gaze. “But that probably goes without saying by now.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that, Blondie. Up until the part where Bartrand left us down here to die, I think it was all going pretty well.” Varric replies, his tone almost light but Hawke can hear the underlying hurt and anger in his friend’s tone. He can’t imagine what Varric was thinking right now.. They might not have always gotten along well, but there was no world where Hawke could imagine Carver ever doing something like this to him. It still stings to think about him, but Hawke tries not to dwell on that right now. His repressed grief was the least of their problems and it should probably remain that way.

“Well, standing around and talking about dismembering a traitorous dwarf might cheer us up,” Hawke says, returning the collective attention of his friends to him, “but it won’t get us out of here. Let’s keep going, and try to leave some better markers as we do.”

“You’ll thank me when we’re out of here,” Isabela replies, throwing him a playful wink. Hawke returns the familiar gesture with a smirk before his gaze goes over to Anders, and he watches as the mage gets to his feet with a weary huff.

“You feeling all right, Anders?” Hawke asks, approaching him before another thought suddenly crosses his mind. “And not trying to add to our current problems, but you don’t happen to sense any Darkspawn down here do you?”

“If I did, I certainly wouldn’t be keeping it to myself,” Anders replies, rolling his shoulders as he and Hawke follow after their other two companions, and they walk in silence for a few seconds before Anders lets out another soft sigh. “I just.. I can’t say I have a lot of fond memories about being underground.”

“Oh I’m sure we’ll look back at this and laugh someday.” Hawke replies, reaching over to give Anders’ shoulder a companionable pat. “But on the bright side, everything that we come across down here can probably be killed.”

“Yes, including us,” Anders replies, raising an eyebrow at the grin that Hawke gives him in lieu of a reply. “Just try to keep a distance if we do happen across any Darkspawn. The last thing we need is someone getting infected with the Blight sickness.”

“Precisely why I didn’t risk bringing Bethany down here,” Hawke replies promptly, watching as Isabela and Varric both pause in their walking to start scraping some noticeable markers in the stone walls. “But I’m not too worried – I’ve got a big, bad Grey Warden right here to keep me safe.”

Anders scoffs at that, and when Hawke glances over he thinks that he sees a faint dusting of red on his cheeks. It’s difficult to tell in the dim lighting of the walkway, but Anders is still smiling when he meets Hawke's gaze again. “Fine, but if we run into a dragon I’m leaving that one to you.”

“Fair enough.” Hawke grins. “But if it’s a baby dragon I’m going to try and tame it first.”

“That I don’t doubt.” Anders says, and there’s a noticeable fondness in his tone, one that fills Hawke’s chest with a pleasant warmth as they keep following after the others, eager to leave this thaig and this journey behind them.

-----

[secretsfromwholecloth]

Dragon Age II, day 2.

I’ve resigned myself to seeing “Carver: Rivalry +5″ a whole hell of a lot. I think if I want to do a Carver friendship run, I’d have to plan the whole playthrough specifically around that.

Hello, Fenris. Murdering slavers in the face is always good fun.

Or murdering them in the chest, as it happens.

Welcome to the party, Anders. Sorry about Pavey being kind of mean to you, but she does want to help, and I suspect you’ll learn to kind of like it in time. Or at least nudge her anger in a similar direction to yours so you can be angry at stuff together.

Hello, Marethari et al. Wow, you look different. And sound different. The new aravel design is pretty.

Hello, Merrill. I’m so sorry that Pavey was mean to you, she’ll warm to you in time.

Poor, poor Carver. All he wants is to have a normal life and not attract Templar attention, and his sister goes and makes friends with an abomination and a blood mage.

I most certainly did not intend to threaten to kill Feynriel. Give him a light beating if he tries to turn himself in to the Templars, maybe. Holy shit.

Hello, Isabela. Beating the shit out of creeps is always fun!

Oh, Anders, this “we can’t be together, I’ll hulk out and break your heart” routine isn’t convincing anyone, we both know you’ll be yeeting yourself bodily at Pavey inside of approximately three minutes.

I keep racking up rivalry with Varric, and it makes me terribly sad.

Hello again, Cullen. *sigh* Just...*sigh*

Yes, rant about how mages have to be watched at all times to the person with a staff strapped to her back who just saved your ass by slapping a Crushing Prison on that abomination. Brilliant. Love you too, Cullen.

“A cold shower”? Varric, honey, I get that you thought Idunna was hot for some ungodly reason, but how are you still horny after watching her try to mind-control your friend into killing herself and then get murder knifed for her trouble?

Fenris, it’s probably time to issue the standard warning about Pavey and the heavy end of her staff if you keep giving her flak for being a mage. Yes, the staff with the naked lady figurine on the heavy end. You’ll have some very interestingly-shaped bruises.

That’d be the Malcolm’s Honor staff, which raises a question or two. Like, did he specifically think to himself about which daughter he wanted to inherit the staff with the bodacious ta-tas, or what?

Carver, you shut your hole about being able to see the Templars’ point. Your hole. Shut it.

Anders: “You may want to downplay the blood magic angle, we don’t need the Templars cracking down any harder.” Pavey: *immediately goes and tells Cullen about the blood mages, what is self-preservation, can she eat it?*

Other than Carver needing healing at one point, the fight against the dragon at the Bone Pit went remarkably well. To be fair, that is only an introductory dragon.

Having Varric lie us out of trouble never gets old.

And I’ve officially run out of Act 1 stuff to do, so time to head for the Deep Roads.

Ooh, looks like I’ve hauled Varric kicking and screaming onto the friendship side of the friend/rival divide. Hopefully he stays there, having him as a rival makes me sad.

Time for the ceremonial declaration of “fuck you, Bartrand.”

Aw, Pavey didn’t get to punch the rock wraith abomination in the face.

The fight against the ancient rock wraith went much better this time. By which I mean everyone was still standing by the end of it.

Stroud? Huh, OK, yeah, apparently he turns up here no matter what. I’m not complaining too loudly. Seeing Stroud also means hearing his VA, of whom my opinions are already well known.

And Carver has been packed off to the Wardens, poor kid. On to Act 2.

Awesome, I missed out on beating up slavers with Fenris last time.

And it’s after midnight, so I’ll have to finish murdering slavers in the face tomorrow.

[kirkwall-group-therapy]

City of Blood

By Varric Tethras

Mature content warning, Act 1: cursing, adult topics, violence

Act 1

Chapter One: Hawke

 Kirkwall has always had a rough past, far beyond what most people know. But Kirkwall had never seen a shitstorm quite the one that arrived with Hawke. As always, cursed with stunning good looks and an uncanny talent for knocking heads and getting shit done, Hawke found herself the center of attention nearly everywhere she went - without even trying. She didn’t even want the attention. She was just trying to take care of her family.

 But to properly tell this tale, we need to back up a little. See Hawke wasn’t born in Kirkwall. No, she was raised in Fereldan. Charlene Maxella Hawke. Aka Charlie.  Though everyone just called her Hawke. Born to Malcolm Hawke and Leandra Amell, with younger twin siblings Carver & Bethany. Like everything these days, magic had plagued them their whole lives. Both Malcolm & Bethany were apostate mages - that is mages living “illegally” outside the control and supervision of the Chantry’s mage circles and their holy knights, the templars. They had to leave their home in Amaranthine when Bethany discovered her magic at the age of 9. That’s when they moved to Lothering, a small farming community in the south, on the edge of legendary, barbaric Korcari Wilds. There they spent the rest of their lives trying to hide Bethany and Malcolm from the templars.

 When they were older, Carver and Hawke both joined King Cailan’s army and fought in the battle of Ostagar, where the Hero of Fereldan’s story began. After Loghain pulled his men out of the fight, betraying the King and leaving him to die, the blight began spreading north- endangering Lothering. With Malcolm already dead, it was up to Hawke to protect their mother and her younger sister, so they fled Lothering and headed north. Their destination was none other than Kirkwall, where Leandra had been born and raised. Her brother, Hawke’s uncle Gamlen, still lived there and it was the only place they had left to go.

 Darkspawn dogged their heels, and they almost didn’t make it out alive. Fate joined them together with another solider from King Cailan’s army, Aveline, and her husband Wesley, a templar. Though providence, and a Witch of the Wilds, had saved them from the never-ending darkspawn - Carver didn’t survive. He died protecting the family. Fate also demanded the life of Aveline’s husband before they at last made it to safely to Kirkwall. But Kirkwall was already drowning in Fereldan refugees. The price to get in was steep, and like all the other refugees, the Hawkes had nothing but the clothes on their backs and their humble weapons. They had expected that they would immediately be given entry due to Hawke’s Uncle Gamlen and the family estate, but they arrived only to find that he had gambled away the family fortunate and lived in squalor. He managed to find them a backer, a investor - someone willing to pay for their way into the city, but it required becoming indentured servants for a year, working for an elven smuggler woman named Athenril.

 It was right around the end of their contract with Athenril when I met them. Really that’s when we all met Hawke and became a family. A twisted, messed up sort of a family, but a family none the less. That’s also about the time the Qunari arrived. The enormous horned humanoids made everyone nervous. They were ship wrecked, and supposedly waiting on a ship to come pick them up.

 Hawke & Bethany were trying to join my brother Bartrand’s expedition to the deep roads. Bartrand wouldn’t know the sharp end of a sword if it stabbed him the ass. He couldn’t see that we needed people like Hawke - experienced swords who had actually faced and killed darkspawn before. And Hawke wasn’t like the others; she had already made a name for herself while working for Athenril. Her reputation spoke for itself - she was a woman who got shit done. I knew we needed Hawke & Bethany, but the only way I would be able to convince my brother to hire them on, would be if Hawke became a partner in the venture. It was an expensive investment, but worth it. Or at least that’s how we all felt at the time. Honestly, most of Kirkwall’s problem can be traced back to that damned expedition. Or at least Kirkwall’s problems were exacerbated by it. But, we’ll get to that …

 ~

 “Do you miss home?” Bethany asked as they lay in their beds of the small room. The air was stagnate due to the inadequate ventilation in the construction of the Lowtown hovels. The ground was nothing but hardened dirt. The walls were rough as gravel, and just as uncooperative. The dark, ghastly brown material refused all attempts to be painted. Bethany had tried several times in hopes to lighten the place up, to make it feel just a little less dismal.

 “I miss …” Hawke paused, trying to understand what it was that she missed, what was it that she longed for? “I miss … Fereldan, I think.” Lady, Hawke’s Mabari war dog, lay on the floor beside her. Her ears perked up at the talk of Fereldan. Maker knows how Lady missed trees and dirt and grass and bugs. She hated the stone walls and the stone roads, and the lack of nature and creatures.

 “Not home?” Bethany asked.

 “In some ways, yes. It’s just that … I had been away from home for so long already. And I still remember our first home, near Amaranthine. In some ways I miss it more than our home in Lothering. Things were just so … different in Lothering. What I miss is … being a child. I miss hearing father’s laughter. I miss listening to your magic lessons. I miss … I miss his lessons on herbs, and hearing about the circle. I miss playing soldier with Peyton and Carver, and running through the forest with Lady. I miss the simpler times, the lack of responsibility, the sense of being happy and safe, and together. I miss the sense of nature of Fereldan, and … and the simplicity of life in Fereldan,” Hawke said.

 “I miss home terribly,” Bethany said. “I miss walls made of wood. And I never thought the ceiling was all that tall, until we came here. I miss the grand fireplace, and the Sylvan wood mantle that father and I found. I miss the family shrine and the old totem pole. I miss the fresh air that would waft through the whole house on a warm spring day, when mother would have all the windows open. And the way the sunlight would pour in and the whole house just glowed. It always gave the house an otherworldly feel, like it was part of the Golden City. So peaceful, so beautiful, so surreal. Mother used to smile more too.”

 “Fresh air,” Hawke agreed. “I really miss that.”

 “Charlie, I’m scared here,” Bethany whispered after a brief moment of silence.

 “I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise,” Hawke said. “I won’t let the templars take you.”

 “There’s just so many of them, and we have no where to hide. We don’t have friends or allies like we did back in Lothering, and no woods to flee to. We’re poor, we have no status, and what’s worse, we’re Fereldan refugees. Maybe if we still had the Amell estate … that could be enough to hide behind,” Bethany said.

 “You really think the templars here would turn a blind eye if we were nobility?” Hawke asked.

 “Maybe not, but they wouldn’t look too closely either, don’t you think?” Bethany asked. “They’d be more gentle, at the very least.”

 “It’s going to take mother a long time to petition the Viscount,” Hawke said.

 “I heard mother say that there’s also the possibility that we could buy it back. But, it would take a fortune,” Bethany said.

 “Better start saving then, eh?” Hawke joked.

 “Is there nothing we can do, no way to earn money faster? Taking jobs like this, we’ll never get out of Lowtown,” Bethany replied.

 “Hmm,” Hawke said. She had seen a poster about an expedition to the Deep Roads. It promised “more wealth than you can imagine” - but as it equally promised Darkspawn, Hawke had dismissed the idea.

 “I heard mother crying again the other night,” Bethany said.

 “Me too,” Hawke said.

 “I would do anything - well, almost anything - to get her out of this place. Even our own place in Lowtown would be better than this place,” Bethany said. Hawke sighed.

 Maybe I should just sign up for the expedition. What’s a few more Darkspawn at this point? Hawke thought. But it recalled scenes from Ostagar, and Carver’s death. Hawke quickly banished the images and rolled onto her side. But we can’t stay here either. This place is crushing them.

 “How do you feel about the Deep Roads?” Hawke eventually asked.

 “The Deep Roads? What do you mean?” Bethany asked.

 “I saw a poster looking for able men to join an expedition to the Deep Roads. It’s a treasure hunting expedition, and they say that the chances are very good at finding a great deal of treasure. Enough that we might be able to buy back the estate, or, at least it would save us several years of saving up for it,” Hawke explained.

 “But that would mean more Darkspawn,” Bethany said. Those grotesque creatures that crawled out of the ground, deep beneath surface, seeming to spring to life from nothing but the abyss itself. Mindless ravagers. Corrupted with the blight; their blood a poison to man, beast, and soil. Supposedly darkspawn were the result of men trying to enter heaven, to enter the Golden City. But instead they corrupted it and were cast out - becoming the first darkspawn. That’s what the chantry always taught. Bethany didn’t know whether she believed any of that part or not, but she could confirm the part about their blood corrupting and decaying everything it touched. Lothering had been completely destroyed by it.

 “Indeed. I didn’t even consider it at first, for that reason. But you’re right. We can’t stay here, and it sounds like our best shot,” Hawke said.

 “But there’s no guarantee that we’ll find any treasure?” Bethany asked.

 “No, no guarantee. We could return just as broke as we were before,” Hawke said.

 “Well. I supposed we don’t have anything to lose by giving it a shot,” Bethany said.

“Are you sure?” Hawke asked, a little surprised how readily Bethany had accepted the idea.

 “I can’t stand to listen to mother cry any longer than necessary,” Bethany said.

 “Alright. We can go to talk to the expedition leader tomorrow,” Hawke said.

 “Who is the leader, do you know?” Bethany asked.

 “A dwarf named Bartrand Tethras,” Hawke said.

 The next morning the two girls walked to the Merchant Guild’s section of Hightown and met with the dwarf, Bartrand. A stingy and greedy little man who couldn’t see what a golden opportunity these two were. He turned them down flat, something that Hawke had never even considered. No one had ever refused to hire her for a job.

 Bethany was nearly in tears when they existed Bartrand’s office. Distracted, a pickpocket bumped into Hawke and made off with her coin purse. A loud snap followed by whistle punctured the air as a majestic arrow soared after her target, pinning the pickpocket to the stone wall behind him. A dashing, handsome fellow, impeccably dressed, with pearly white teeth and glittering, strawberry blonde hair, stepped forward and retrieved from the coin purse from the poor kid, and tossed it back to Hawke with a grin and a wink.

 “How do you do?” The dwarf said with a smoldering smile, the kind that makes all the women swoon. “Name’s Varric Tethras.” He twirled the arrow he retrieved from the wall, and slid it back into its quiver. “I apologize for Bartrand. He wouldn’t know an opportunity if it hit him square in the jaw.”

 “But you would?” Hawke asked.

 It being the middle of the day, and in Hightown, Hawke had left her great sword at home along with her heavy armor. But the skillful Varric could still spot the daggers hidden in both of her boots, and a wide bladed knife hidden under the back folds of her shirt. She was different than what he was expecting. For one, he thought she would be taller. Bulkier. She was no petite elf, mind you, but she wasn’t a stocky, dull witted human woman either. He had pictured a woman with a thick neck, perhaps a furry unibrow. As for wits, well, Varric knew that she had to be more intelligent that the average man was, because her reputation for getting jobs done meant that she was able to succeed where simple brute force had not. Still, Varric hadn’t been prepared to meet a woman of average build, slightly shorter than average height, with waist long impossibly straight chestnut brown hair, and striking aqua blue eyes. Bethany too was a stunning beauty. Her eyes nearly matched Hawke’s, but her hair was jet black and wavy, cut at shoulder length. Bethany stood a few inches taller than Hawke, but her face was softer, younger, more innocent, and she had more distinct womanly curves than Hawke. The pair of them were a dazzling sight to behold, true gems of the city if there ever were any to be had. And for a moment Varric considered that these might not be the Hawke sisters that he had heard so much about - if it weren’t for Hawke’s posture, and hardened composure. And one look into her eyes and you could see great violence and great death reflected in them.

 “I would,” he replied smoothly. “What my brother doesn’t realize is that we need someone like you. He would never admit it either, he’s too proud. I, however, am quite practical.”

 “So you’re part of the expedition?” Hawke asked, clearly missing the part where both Bartrand and Varric shared the same last name.

 “That’s right,” Varric said. “The Deep Roads wouldn’t normally be my kind of thing, but I can’t allow the head of our family to go down there alone. So as you might imagine, I have more than a passing interest in this expedition’s success.”

 “What makes you so certain we can help?” Hawke asked. “You know nothing about us.”

 “Oh, on the contrary - you’ve made quite the name for yourself this last year. The name Hawke is on many lips these days. Not bad for a Fereldan fresh off the boat,” Varric said.

 “You must have heard of my sister, as well then?” Hawke asked cautiously, trying to determine how much he knew.

 “Only a little. She’s certainly welcome to come, but I’ll leave that up to you,” Varric said.

 “Frankly, I’d rather not stand in the spotlight as it is,” Bethany said.

 “Madam, your secrets are safe with me,” Varric replied. So he was aware of Bethany’s magical abilities. Nothing escaped this handsome dwarf’s notice, it seemed.

 “What are you offering?” Bethany asked.

 “We don’t need another hireling,” Varric said. “What we really need is a partner. The truth is, Bartrand has been tearing his beard out trying to fund this expedition on his own, but he can’t do it. Invest in the expedition. Fifty sovereigns, and he can’t refuse. Not with me to vouch for you.”

 “Your brother doesn’t seem like the sort who’s willing to split profits,” Hawke said.

 “My brother is many things, but he’s not stupid,” Varric said. A statement that would later be put to the test. “Far better to share the profits than be trapped in a thaig with a thousand darkspawn between you and the exit. Trust me, he’ll come around.”

 “It sounds interesting, but if I had any gold, I wouldn’t need this job,” Hawke said. “And fifty sovereigns is no small amount.”

 “You need to think big,” Varric said. “There’s only a brief window after a blight when the Deep Roads won’t be crawling with darkspawn. The treasure you find down there could set you and your family up for life!”

 “I think we have to try,” Bethany said. “My only question is if there is enough time for us to save up that much, before the expedition leaves without us.”

 “We’ll work together. I have eyes and ears all over the city. I can find some of the most lucrative jobs for you, and I would even be willing to tag along and help provide backup and any insight that might be useful. I can also simply stand there and look pretty for those times when you need something to lift your spirits a little,” Varric winked. “So by working together, you’ll have all the capital you need in no time.”

 “What if there’s nothing down there except darkspawn and rubble? How can you be sure we’ll make a profit?” Hawke asked.

 “Bartrand isn’t grasping at strings. He’s done his homework. He’s operating on reliable information. Some of the Deep Roads are so old, even dwarves have forgotten them. We just need to get down there, then Bartrand will lead the way. You and I will be there to handle problems,” Varric explained.

 “You’re asking me to take a lot on faith,” Hawke said.

 “Look, you’re right. There is no guarantee. But I know the templars have been asking questions. How terrible would it be to get out of the city for a while? If this works out, you’ll be rich enough that the order won’t be able to touch you.”

 Hawke wasn’t sure that there was such a thing in Kirkwall. In Fereldan, yes. But it would make Bethany safer, and ensure she we would receive the best treatment, if she ever was taken by the templars - at the very least. Templars aside, it would mean being able to give Bethany a nice life, a good life. One she and mother deserved.

 Hawke sighed. “Well, it’s not like I had anything better planned,” she grinned.

 “Perfect,” Varric said, sincerely relieved. They needed her on this expedition just as much as she needed on it. “Kirkwall is crawling with work. You set aside some coin from every job, and you’ll have the money in no time. And, when you have a moment, we should speak more privately, not out in the open like this. I have a room at the Hanged Man in Lowtown. Stop by at your earliest convenience.” Varric bid the two ladies adieu, and went back to the Hanged Man to begin preparations for the ladies, including reaching out to some of his contacts to see what kind of lucrative jobs were available at the moment.

____________________________________________________________ The characters of this fanfic are from the Dragon Age game series, though this fanfic focuses specifically on the 2nd game. I have played the games numerous times, but have not read the comics and have not completed all of the DLC’s, so I have only used information found when playing the games. As this is a fanfic, I have at times changed information regarding characters, timeline of events, their comments, or their reactions.

I wrote the fanfic for me, but I hope others can enjoy it too. Thank you so much EA/BIOWARE for these amazing games and amazing characters!

I’m new to tumblr so bear with my while I figure out post formatting. I played all the DA games years ago and recently replayed them, and while I always loved them, I starting obsessing over them after my recent play through, ha. 

[wizardofozymandias]

14 Days of DA Lovers, Day 7: Wearing the Other’s Clothes

I’m playing catch-up, since I didn’t get this finished yesterday, but better late than never.

Written for the @14daysdalovers prompt event.

Prompt: Wearing the Other’s Clothes

Pairing: Varric/Female Hawke

Characters: Varric Tethras, Marian Hawke

Summary: When Hawke shows up at his window drenched and half-frozen, Varric offers her some of his clothes to wear. 

Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence

Varric sat at his desk, busily scrawling away at the next chapter of his novel. Outside, the wind was howling like it wanted to shake the whole tavern apart. Sleet rattled against the windows. Good day to be inside, Varric thought, taking another sip of brandy. 

A sudden frantic knocking at the window made him drop his pen. What in the name of. . . ? Varric peered through the frosty glass.

It was Hawke, of course. Her clothes were dripping wet and she was shivering like her bones wanted to rattle apart. Varric eased the window open. It was colder than Maferath’s left asscheek out there. “Hawke, what the hell happened to you?” he asked her.

“Long story,” she said.

“Is that ice in your hair?”

“Probably.”

“Well, since I’m assuming you knocked on the window for a reason, you’d better get in here before you freeze to death.”

She clambered inside, still dripping like a mop straight out of the bucket. 

“T-thanks, Varric,” she said through chattering teeth. 

“Don’t mention it,” he told her, securing the window shut.

There was a decent-sized puddle starting to form under his best friend. Varric grabbed a towel from the washstand. “Here.” He tossed it her way. “You’d better dry off before you flood the place.”

He shook his head as he watched her start to sponge off over her clothes.

“Hawke, I know you’re a lady, and you might be sensitive about. . .things.” He could not be blushing right now. “But you’re going to get any warmer or drier if you insist on staying in those clothes.”

She paused her frantic daubing at her clothes. “I’m an idiot,” she muttered. “You’re right.” She hauled off one of her boots, almost losing her balance in the process, and tossed it in a bare corner. 

“If you’ll promise not to fall and kill yourself, I’ll turn my back for the sake of your modesty.”

Hawke laughed. “There’s not much of me you haven’t seen, anyway. We’ve played enough Wicked Grace together.”

“I’m trying to preserve my reputation as a gentleman,” he protested.

“Avert your virtuous eyes, then. I’m about to strip.” 

As promised, Varric kept his eyes firmly fastened to the wall. Hawke was right— he had seen her without most of her clothes often enough when she drew a bad hand in Wicked Grace. Not to mention the handful of times where she had played badly until her lack of clothing made it easier to bluff. But that wasn’t in his bedroom. Alone. 

In the past few months, Varric had given up trying to deny that he found Hawke attractive. Hell, half of Kirkwall was probably attracted to her. She was the type of woman that branded herself onto your brain. Not beautiful, necessarily. But unforgettable. 

Not to mention loud-mouthed, smart-assed, and more hard-headed than a herd of Fereldan billy goats, Varric thought. 

Of course he was attracted to her. It was something he noticed early on, decided it didn’t matter, and forgot about. And it hadn’t mattered, until recently, when his face kept turning the color of his best shirt every time she glanced his way. 

Varric blamed Bartrand. Once his crazy brother was safely in the ground, Varric had started thinking too much about his own expiration date. Which came with plenty of uncomfortable realizations, like the fact that he was getting too old to eat his fill of the Hanged Man’s spicy chili, and that he had probably been in love with his best friend for the past two years.

He yanked his thoughts back to the present. “Are you going to explain what you’re doing knocking on my window?” he asked Hawke.

“Well. . .”

“Let me guess: you picked a fight?”

“No!” she insisted. “Technically, it was the other guy’s fault.”

Varric sighed. “As always.”

“Bodahn made way more soup than the three of us could eat, so I decided to take some to Merrill. I’m walking back, minding my own business, and this templar—”

“Andraste’s ass,” he interrupted, “you picked a fight with another templar? I can’t leave you unsupervised for a minute!”

“Hey, this asshole made a joke about what a shame I’m not as pretty as my little sister. And—I won’t repeat the rest of it.”

Varric’s mouth fell open. A strangled sound issued from his throat.

“Yeah.”

He coughed. “I hope you got him good.”

“I broke his nose and pitched him into the harbor. It had started snowing at that point, and there was a bunch of ice in the water. Unfortunately, he dragged me down with him.”

“I’m still missing the part of the story where I come in.”

“I thought that was pretty self-explanatory. It was pouring snow and sleet, and I was out in Lowtown. This seemed like the obvious place to wait out the weather, but they wouldn’t let me through the front door. After all I’ve done for this town!”

Varric laughed. “Kirkwall’s biggest menace.” 

“I’d wear that badge,” she said. “And, speaking of wearing things, do you have any spare clothes I could borrow? It’s either that, or I may have to commandeer your curtains.”  

“If you pull down my curtains, I’m throwing you out. I don’t think the management would stand for it.”

“Aren’t you their best customer?”

“Yes, and I’m not about to let you change that.” He walked to his chest of drawers and pulled out one of his shirts. He had no idea if it would fit her, but it was the only real option. He tossed it at the bed.

“Thanks,” Hawke muttered. 

“Any time. Let me know when you’re decent.”

There was some rustling around, then Hawke burst out laughing. “Um, Varric, you need to see this. I’m not sure if it counts as ‘decent,’ though.” 

He turned and stifled a laugh of his own. 

Hawke’s arms looked humorously large sticking out of his shirt. The hem barely grazed her thighs, and the neckline sat around the same level as her ribcage. If she had been as well-endowed as Isabela, the results would have been slightly scandalous. As it was, the only part of Hawke that was exposed was a ridiculous amount of skin below her collarbone. 

“I definitely don’t have the chest hair to pull this off,” Hawke said, still cracking up. “Or the chest, for that matter.”

Varric laughed, trying once again to hide the redness of his face. “Here,” he said, tossing his leather coat her way. “Put this on and get over here by the fire before you freeze to death.”

“You’re the best, Varric.”

“I know, I know.” 

Hawke ended up wrapped in one of his blankets while she unthawed, but even bundled up in that, Varric could still see the scarlet fabric of his shirt against her shoulder. He tried very hard not to think about how the color brought out her cornflower blue eyes. 

[dragonagecompanions]

dai inner circle react to inquisitor!trevelyan recognizing a red templar as their sibling

Cassandra: They are kin, in that moment. No matter what else might exist between herself and the inquisitor she knows their agony as the red dotted monstrosity with the herald’s eyes and the Trevelyan emblem on their shield stands against them. Some part of herself- the part that never forgot how it felt to be twelve and bereft so suddenly of her beloved older brother- is screaming in that shared pain as she watches their leader tremble under the sudden and terrible truth.

 There is no treatment for this slow and lethal creep of corrupted lyrium, and the only merciful cure is the sword. In her life she has been many things, and done things she would rather now think she had not, but taking that task away from a grieving sibling will never be one. She makes sure another companion is with them, doing her best to shield them from the truth, and when it is over and they have made camp she does what she can for them.

“I am sorry, for your loss. I...also lost a brother, when I was very young. If you need to speak of this....I am here.”

Solas: It is agony to watch your loved ones fall to that same enemy that you are fighting. He knows the feeling too well, and for all that his loss was on a far grander scale he feels their grief and despair. If they want him to dispatch the red templars -quickly and mercifully, he is not always a monster- he will do so. And if it is a task that they need to take on themselves he will only cast a barrier to guard them, and keep watch until it is over. And later, if they allow it, he will sit with them.

“There are no words on either side of the veil that I can think of to bring you comfort. I am sorry.”

Varric: Shit. Shit. Of all the companions Varric Tethras understands with a cruel clarity exactly what they are feeling. Even if he still lives Bartrand has been taken from him, likely forever, and while he was no templar isn’t red lyrium the same cause? He doesn’t hesitate before lifting Bianca, putting down the Inquisitor’s sibling and his own brother’s ghost with swift bolts before -as the battle allows- walking off to be sick. This is a side of him that rarely crops up outside of the Hanged Man and too much alcohol, and if he does finally talk to their leader it won’t be that day.

“I’m....sorry. About your sibling. It’s rough. If you need a drink, you know where to find me.”

Vivienne: This abomination is not a templar, and after her magic has removed them from the picture she leads the Inquisitor away. Loss is not a new concept for any mage -most begin their young lives being ripped from family and all they knew, and few go through their lives without losing friends- but that does not her unfeeling to their grief now, and she is gentle with them after they make camp.

“My dear, no one thinks less of you for your sorrow, but you must not remember them as what stood before you. They were taken from you long before that, and this was the last gift you could offer. Let them be with the Maker, and take comfort that they would thank you if they could.”

Blackwall: Wardens have no interest in the politics of templars and mages, and for all that he is not truly among their ranks Blackwall has the same mindset. Red templars are no different than the Venatori or darkspawn or the Maker damned bears-- just another enemy to fight, just another monster to put down. But when he hears the inquisitors shout of grief and denial that opinion changes. It’s not hard to see the resemblance, when he takes the time to look, and that tells the story in full.

When he walked away from Thom Rainer’s name he left any family behind as well, but if it were his own kin standing there he’d want someone else to swing the sword. Later, when it was done and they had given whatever rights the wilderness could offer, he does not approach them. Grief needs it own solitude, but if they need something to do with their hands later he lends them his carving knife and wood. Bleeds off the pain into something productive, and sometimes that’s enough.

Sera: For all her jokes and quips and pushing the line to see how far she can get, Skyhold’s Red Jenny has a heart for the wounded and the weary and the grieving. The last one might be their herald, but the first two apply also to their sibling-- and there is compassion in her quiver as she puts extra care into each shot. It’s fast, and she does not let them suffer, and later when all is quiet she filches what sweets are to be had on the road and leaves them with the Inquisitor.

“ ‘s not cookies, but...shite, words aren’t good for the big things but I’m sorry yeah? Bet they don’t blame you, up with the Maker and Andraste. Bet they’re pretty glad you were here.”

Iron Bull: The Qun would have outsiders believe that loss is part of the natural order, and that to accept that is to become peace. To rise and fall with the tide, to be order among the chaos, to accept. But there's more than one Tevinter mage who can -or can’t, as the case may be- attest that he’d fought harder and dirtier and more bitterly when a friend when down than before the loss. He understands loss, and grief, and needing someone else to take on a burden when those rear their ugly heads. Killing one templar, no matter how much they look like the Boss, is a small thing in the face of that.

And later, as the only consolidation he can offer, he gets them black out drunk and hopes it numbs the sharp edge of the memory. There’s not much else for grief.

Dorian: He spent years watching the closest thing he would ever have to a brother die of blight sickness, and every moment ached. Felix finally died alone, hundreds of miles from the two people who loved him most, and that ached more. But it all seems to fade in the penumbra of having to watch your own sibling- torn apart by red lyrium- die before you. Even worse to watch them suffer in fear or agony before it, and so in the moment when a sword is more useful than his gift Dorian stays by the Inquisitor’s side and either shields them from the fighting or shields them from the view. 

It is, for the person who offered him a place despite his past and his pedigree, the least he can do.

Cole: “Screaming, whispering, never alone, get out of my head. So proud of them, making a difference, glad it was them-”

Someone eventually halts the final thoughts of the inquisitor’s sibling from echoing in Cole’s words, but by then the knot is tangled and he doesn’t know how to untangle it. If they want to forget, he helps them. Their pain and grief is omnipresent, and so for a time the spirit is hyper focused on them. But if they do not want to forget he tries to bring them those things that make him happy-- which is how the inquisitor ends up with three hats, a very confused nug, and a random trinket that somehow reminds the inquisitor of better times.

Mod Fereldone

[aria-i-adagio]

5,10, 14,20 please!

Gracias! I’m guessing this is from the OTP asks and for Anders/Hawke. Hope it is.

10) What scares them about entering a relationship?

Heheh.

Anders, of course, is convinced that being with him will likely get Hawke killed. Or that Hawke will decide that he’s a monster who is unworthy of being loved.

Adrian gets intensely attached to people. (Anxious attachment style.) He’s deeply afraid of getting into a relationship only to lose another person he loves.

14) What makes them feel loved? Would they build up the courage to ask for it?

Good news. They’re both idiots, but they’re both touch-starved idiots. Asking for it probably isn’t a problem.

Adrian is also very much a “I found this thing I thought you’d like/made me think of you, here is it. Do you like it? Please like it.” kind of guy.

20) When would they say “I love you?” Do they say it first? Do they say it often, or is it reserved for special moments?

With Anders canonical default endearment being ‘my love’, there’s plenty of evidence that he’d also be fairly free with the “I love you.” Adrian tends to be a bit more reserved. Be that as it may, Adrian said it first.

5) How do they consciously realize that they like the other character? Does it take them a while?

I guess the question is like versus *like*.

I tend to go with the idea that no matter what romance route is played that Anders has at least some romantic interest in Hawke from Act 1. But after Karl’s death, I think there’s a combination of both not being ready and believing that he’s too dangerous for anyone to be in a relationship with him.

Adrian was interested in Anders from very early on. Oddly attractive man with a ‘sexy, tortured look’ develops into honest admiration of the fact that Anders is one of the few people in Kirkwall who’s actually interested in doing something good. But he’s A) used to playing his cards close to his chest (as while Ferelden may not particularly care about same-sex relationships, there does seem to be something of an expectation that they shouldn’t get in the way of children, Leandra has definitely messed with his head, etc.), and B) he’s a small, somewhat insecure ball of anxiety who’s afraid of rejection. He also very good at repressing things, so for most of Act 1, he’s in denial of being interested beyond a “yep, that one’s handsome.”

However, have a show rather than tell. (SFW fic below. Unedited.)

Hawke has determined that he does not like the Deep Roads. And he hates Bartrand. Who the fuck does that? Leaves their brother to die over a chunk of stone, or whatever that idol was made of?

You let your brother die. You left him.

That was different. I couldn’t protect him. I tried, I swear.

Bethany sneaks up on him from behind and loops her arm through his. She leans her head on his shoulder. “Carver was already dead, ‘Dri.”

He knows that she can’t actually read minds, but sometimes he wonders whether she picked the skill up somewhere. Or maybe it’s a little sister thing. He stops walking and tilts his head to the side, touching his cheek to her hair. “I should have -”

“If any of us could have, we would have.” Bethany pats the other side of his face. “Look about, is this a decently safe place?”

The Deep Roads do require a qualifier for the word safe. Adrian lifts his head and glances around. Ahead, there’s a bridge over a chasm. If it’s sturdy enough, it will give them good lines of sight and walls on two sides. “Ahead will do.”

“Thanks, ‘Dri.” Bethany lets go of his arm and jogs ahead to where Varric and Anders are walking together, both with their weapons in hand, reasoning that if Anders could sense darkspawn, Varric might be able to take them down with Bianca before they got too close. Or thin them out. “Hey. Think it’s night yet?”

“You’re the only Sunshine I see. What’s your opinion?”

“That I’m tired.”

Varric looks around and shrugs. “Then it’s night. Might as well make camp.”

Hawke keeps watch well after they've eaten a sad and meager (who knows how long they'll be searching for an exit now?) meal of hard bread. Bethany told him that he didn't need to; the glyphs she and Anders had set on either end of the bridge would last far past the time Varric's little clockwork watch was set to come. But he couldn't talk himself into following her advice. Darkspawn had killed Carver. They were not going to take Bethany from him.

He isn't the only one still awake. Anders had laid out his bedroll as close to the fire as he could, and he huddles close to the glow of the embers. He’d panicked when Bartrand swung the door closed on in, and once it became clear that neither Varric nore Hawke would be able to pick the locking mechanism, cast multiple spells at the door before giving up on the idea of breaking through it by force. The mage had been quiet since, not even Varric had been able to draw him out.

"You alright?"

Anders lifts his face. There are always dark circles around his eyes, but they look worse in the low light of the fire. "I hate the Deep Roads."

"You could have said no." Hawke asked him to come because he had experience with the Deep Roads, and Darkspawn, and according to what was said of the Grey Wardens would be able to sense them ahead of time. "I would have understood."

Anders smiles grimly. "They're worse without a cat."

"You should try to sleep."

"You should too. Those glyphs I set were designed by a Warden mage. They're strong. This spot is as safe as it's going to get."

"Good to know." Hawke lies down, unsure whether he'll sleep, or just rest his eyes and listen for trouble. "Hey, Anders -"

"Yes?"

"Thanks for coming with me."

"Well, I'm here now."

It might have been an hour, it might have been two, and Hawke might have fallen asleep, or he might have been awake the whole time, but his eyes snap open the moment he hears something other than the crackling of coals. A low, distressed groan and panicked, incoherent mumbling. Hawke opens his eyes. There’s just enough of a glow left in the few embers to see Anders rolling over fitfully, flinging his arm out, nearly managing to catch his fingers in what’s left of the fire. His other arm falls over his mouth, muffling what might have been a scream if allowed to escape.

Hawke tosses off his blanket and crawls across the pavers to him. As he pulls Anders outstretched arm back from the fire, the mage’s eyes snap open and he bolts upright with a gasp, forehead knocking against Hawke’s chin.

“Hey there. You were dreaming.”

“I can hear them.” Anders curls forward, draws his long legs against his chest, and wraps his arms around his knees. “I can still hear it.”

"Hear what? The darkspawn?"

Anders doesn't respond with words, he just goes limp and slumps to the side. Adrian catches him and lets him lean his head against his shoulder. He's perfectly still for a minute, then awkwardly runs his hand through the mage's hair, not entirely sure Anders is awake enough to know where he is, much less who's holding him.

"Take a few deep breaths, okay?" Adrian wraps his other arm around Anders' and pats his shoulder. His joke about Anders 'sexy, tortured look' didn't seem quite as funny at the moment. "Nothing has tripped the glyphs you set. We're okay."

Anders' breathing calms, at least a little. "It's so dark. I can't do this again. I can't."

"I'd build back up the fire for you, but there's no fuel left." Varric had carefully gathered a certain dry fungus from the walls of the cages as they walked. It was the only combustible material available. "Do you hear them more, in the dark?"

"Or I hear nothing in the dark. Not a sound, not a word. I'm alone in it again, and..." The pitch and volume of his voice begins to rise and on instinct, Adrian hugs him tightly. Maker, the poor man is miserable. Hawke never would have asked him to come if he had only known.

Anders shudders and hiccups. "I can't be alone in the dark."

"I'm here." What happened to Anders that made the dark so terrifying? The Deep Roads themselves weren't always dark. Parts were. Other parts were lit by the glow of some sort of marvelous dwarven lamps that still worked after centuries. This wasn't one of those areas, and the lower the embers grow, the more Anders trembles. Without really noticing it, Adrian begins to rub his back and whisper in his ear, the way he sometimes had when one or the other of the twins woke with a childhood nightmare.

He doesn't know Anders well. It's maybe been three or four months since he sought him out to get the maps of the Deep Roads. He's good to know though - a good man. Bethany agrees. And Varric had taken the mage under his wing; Hawke knew the dwarf was paying off the Carta to leave the Darktown clinic alone.

Anders is also handsome in his own way, devilishly funny, and flirtatious, despite the very sad look he gets in his eyes if someone mentions the word Tranquil. 'I hadn't seen him in years,' Anders said, the one time Adrian got him to talk. 'But you know how it is, with first loves.'

Adrian does not actually know how it is with first loves. What relationships he had in Lothering weren't love affairs, just temporary flings with a presumed end date. A Ferelden freeholder needs a wife, needs children to help him work the land. It's just the way of things. No sense in getting too attached.

Like he's getting attached to this mage who hides years of sadness underneath dry humor. Anders has put himself back together a few times already, and right now, the cracks are showing.

"Lay back down. I'll stay with you."

It takes a few more shivers and hiccups before Anders does stretch his long limbs back out. Adrian intends to just sit next to him, maybe keep their fingers together, but Anders pulls at his arm until he lies down beside him on the narrow bedroll, on his side with his head cushioned on his folded arm. Adrian hesitantly strokes Anders' hair, and when that earns him a soft sigh, loops his free arm around the other man and snuggles a bit closer.

After all, it's not just dark in the Deep Roads, it's damn chilly as well. That’s what he tells himself.

When Varric’s little mechanical clock chimes a fake morning, Hawke still curled up around Anders, and Bethany is smirking at him.