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yanderes-galore · 1 month ago

Note

Fandom: HOTD

Character: Aemond Targaryen

Pairing: Romantic

Type of fic: Concept

Extra info: I was thinking reader could be Rhaenyra's daughter, whether she's the oldest child or not is up to you, but she's definitely related to Jace and Luke (thought that her being a bastard could be a way to have Aemond conflicted about his feelings, at least early on).

Also, to add insult to injury, I thought she could take Rhaenyra's side instead of the greens- that way Alicent would definitely never allow him to marry reader lol,, but that's just a suggestion of course

-🥝 anon :P

Side note: your posts are what got me into hotd in the first place🤎🤎

I love Aemond sm. I may not write him the best, but he is a favorite Targaryen of mine. Here you go! Also, I'm so happy I got another person into HOTD ^^ I love ASOIAF a ton.

Yandere! Aemond Targaryen with Rhaenyra's Daughter! Darling

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Targcest (You're both half Targaryen), Obsession, Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Jealousy, Violence, Murder, Blood, Kidnapping, Forced marriage, Angst, Swearing, Mature themes, Forced relationship.

What comes to mind is definitely you being around the same age of Jace, if not a bit older.

You're a Strong bastard like your brothers, you were never blind to the idea.

Your mother may say it isn't true, but you are aware of your true parentage.

Maybe you're the older sister of Jace and Luke, or maybe even a twin of Jace.

Either way, there's a natural animosity between you and Alicent's children.

Especially with Aemond and your brothers.

When you were younger, you were aware your brothers would pick on Aemond.

Hell, Aemond's older brother Aegon even picked on him for not having a dragon.

Such a thing hurt the young prince's ego.

After all, even Rhaenyra's bastards got dragons.

Including you.

There's so much angst that can come from a pairing like this.

Maybe you didn't necessarily hate Aemond when you were younger.

Not until he took Vhagar, at least.

While Aemond knew what you were, you seemed to be the only one not to bully him.

Maybe it was because you weren't a boy, or because you were older and knew better...

But Aemond never fully hated you.

When you were all living in the Red Keep, you two playing with one another was a common sight.

Even though your mothers hated it.

You two originally got along... Aemond might've even experienced puppy love towards you.

As said before, he knows you're the eldest bastard daughter of Rhaenyra...

He shouldn't love you.

You're no pure Targaryen and he can tell your father isn't Velaryon.

But, being young, he felt you were the nicest lady he knew.

There's no big animosity until the Vhagar and Luke incident.

You were away at the time, unaware of the trouble the boys got into.

Only to hear Luke slashed Aemond's eye out... and Aemond took Vhagar as his dragon.

You no doubt wanted to check on Aemond, worried for him.

However, Alicent refuses such a thing.

Rhaenyra also keeps you from Aemond and Aegon.

There's a ton of volatility in your family... The safest option for a lady like you was Dragonstone with your family.

It's there your mother marries Daemon, and you're left to interact with just Jacaerys and Lucerys.

You may have even tried to send ravens to speak with Aemond.

Yet even those were intercepted.

As you can tell, Aemond being obsessed with you is... problematic.

Your mothers keep you away from each other due to what happened with Luke.

Pretty soon you may even adopt the animosity your brothers hold towards Aemond.

You haven't seen him in years and Jace is adamant on hating him.

After all, he hurt Luke, and he has no respect for your mother or the fact you're bastards.

Eventually... You accept those ideals.

Even if Aemond's feelings for you... weren't quite what you expected.

Aemond would feel conflicted when he notices his feelings haven't died down.

It's been years since you followed your mother to Dragonstone and his puppy love... isn't puppy love, it seems.

It's mostly conflicting because it isn't as easy as 'ask mother and father for a betrothal'.

His mother hates Rhaenyra and her children.

She wouldn't understand why Aemond has adoration for the sister of his attacker.

He should hate you.

Perhaps, in a way, he does hold resentment.

Although it's less towards you... and more towards everyone else.

I feel at first, there's rumors of a betrothal between Aemond and you.

It's all a way to mend the cracks in your family.

Originally marrying you to Aegon is discussed, eldest to eldest.

Yet that idea is shot down, leading to the possibility of Aemond marrying you.

It's no doubt discussed over a family dinner you're invited to.

Aemond may even try to encourage his mother to marry you to him.

Bastard or not... Aemond's loved you since childhood.

He tried to ignore it for a long time.

He even wondered if he wanted you close for revenge against your brothers.

Although, when he saw you enter the dining room in that dress no doubt picked out for you...

It only reminded him that you and him were once close... when no one else was.

You knew him when he was young, vulnerable, always picked on with no dragon in sight.

Now Aemond is a skilled swordsman and dragon rider, meant to protect his elder brother.

He didn't need your protection anymore...

Yet he still craved your comfort.

He doesn't care if his mother or your mother looks down on it...

He wants you.

The idea of betrothal between you and Aemond is considered briefly.

Viserys likes the idea, Rhaenyra is willing to go through with it... yet Alicent refuses.

The news sends Aemond into a... brooding mood.

To the point he even picks a fight over Jace and Luke at dinner.

He calls them bastards, both out of hate for losing his eye...

Along with the fact he never got to have you, all while you look all pretty in front of him.

All the young princes and princesses are separated and you begin to hate Aemond more...

Yet he continues to love you.

Even when you sit in the royal gardens to clear your head, Aemond can't help but watch you from the entryway.

He no doubt knows you hate him.

You've always been protective of your siblings... and Aemond outed all three of you as Strong children.

Maybe Aemond even tries to approach you, to talk to you.

It's been years yet you meet him with a glare.

His fault, really.

He sits by you, admits he missed you, he never meant to hurt you specifically...

He may even admit he wishes the betrothal went through.

You ignore most of his words, even when he tries to sit closer.

He's sorry... to only you...

He wants you as his.

He wants his mother to change her mind.

But you merely say you're not meant to be...

Making you leave soon after, as Aemond watches you through his one good eye.

Why won't you love him again... Is it because of your family...?

Did you ever truly love him?

Things only seem to get worse when Vhagar kills Luke, and war efforts begin.

While Aemond is The Greens most skilled warrior and dragon rider, he's vulnerable when it comes to love.

Like Aegon, he can be vulnerable in private.

He thinks of you often alone in his chambers.

Truthfully... He craves your comfort, the same comfort you gave him when you were young kids.

He wishes you would have joined him in matrimony... then you could be a Green.

Yet instead, like the loyal daughter you are, you believe mother knows best.

So you stay beside your mother and Jace, looking at The Greens with disdain.

You ride a dragon of your own, much smaller than Vhagar, but a dragon nonetheless.

Imagine if sometime after he fights Rhaenys and burns his brother... He finds you.

He finds your dragon on an escort mission, riding above men sided with The Blacks.

Imagine if Aemond decides, if he wants you, he's going to have to catch you.

Your dragon isn't as strong as Vhagar, it's an unfair fight, really.

The men you're escorting end up being burned alive by Vhagar.

The smell of burning hair and screaming comes from horses and men alike.

Much to your dismay and fear... as you know this beast killed your brother.

Aemond is careful when dealing with you.

He makes Vhagar knock you off your dragon.

Your dragon screeches as Vhagar's large head rams it in the air.

You end up falling off your dragon, thinking you're going to fall to your death...

Only for Aemond to capture you.

He catches you on Vhagar's back, securing you to him with an arm.

You can struggle... but that's a long drop.

"Hello, love..." Aemond purrs, his eye watching you with desire. "It's been a while...."

Your dragon will only be spared if you behave.

You become a prisoner of war, your dragon locked in the Dragonpit.

Aemond originally has you kept in a cell while he plays the role of king for his injured brother.

However, eventually, you see him enter the dungeons with a proposition.

"Be mine... and I'll let you out."

You can hold out as long as you can...

But you never had much of a choice.

Aemond will make you his bride this way.

His mother may protest, but she can't fight him this time.

The Greens need another dragon rider.

With you tied to Aemond through marriage... He'll get what he's wanted for years... and another dragon to command.

Aemond seems intimidating, especially in power.

Although, in private, when he encourages you to sleep in his chambers.

He's soft.

He treats you like he did when you were kids.

He commands you to lay on his bed, while he curls up in your lap.

Aemond loves you more than any other.

You may be his prisoner, this may be forced...

Yet he's his happiest when you two are finally married.

He's gentle as he can be during your eventual consummation...

But his grip is tight enough to remind you of your position.

Aemond tore you from your family, made you his bride...

Now he wants you to bear his heirs.

You're unhappy, you hate this and miss your mother.

Unfortunately, This will be your fate sooner or later.

Despite Aemond's soft affection and loving words while he cuddles you close... You know better...

You're a trophy, a prisoner of war, a hostage...

You're a possession now bound to him through marriage... all his, forever and always.

#yandere house of the dragon #yandere hotd #yandere asoiaf #yandere aemond targaryen

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mari-lu0-0 · 4 months ago

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Do we hate each other?

Daeron Targaryen x f! reader Velaryon.

Summary: You and Daeron have always hated each other, but wasn't that hatred something else?

Description: All characters are of legal age, content +18, female masturbation, p in v.

Total words: 872.

A deafening silence fell in the dining room after the king's announcement.

You would marry Daeron Targaryen. Simply the most stupid, selfish and idiotic person in your most honest opinion.

You loved your grandfather with all your heart, but you really thought that at that moment he must have been having a serious hallucination, because that would be the only response to wanting to marry two people who would certainly kill each other if given the opportunity.

Your two hatred was known throughout the red fortress. Once when you were both still children, you threw Daeron off one of the small balconies after he called you a bastard and shouted for everyone to hear that Daemon Targaryen was your biological father, because for him that would be the only way for you to possess him. white hair and skin. Once again, Daeron trapped you alone in the Dragon pit with the intention of "helping you get a dragon" in his own words when he received a scolding from his father.

The list of arguments, small and big fights was miles and miles long, and you were determined to add another item to that list.

You walk hurriedly through the dark corridors with one thought in mind of killing Daeron Targaryen. But you are pulled out of your thoughts when your body is pinned against the wall.

"That was your idea wasn't it, if you think you're going to make me kneel before your mother you're really mistaken you little bastard."

"Fuck, only in your dreams Daeron would I lower myself to this level, now let me go before I..."

"Before you tell me, what are you going to do? Are you going to scream for help?" It says how much more your body is stuck to the wall and the next your face is.

"No, you son of a bitch, I'm going to kill you."

"What a dirty mouth, your mother didn't teach you good manners... Am I going to have to teach you that?" The same says the last part in his ear.

“Fuck you” you say in a whisper, making Daeron look into your eyes with an intense look.

"No... I'm going to fuck you."

After that, he sticks his lips to his. Surprised by his action, you decide to give in after a few seconds of shock.

The kiss deepens in an intense way, their tongues dance in an absurd synchronicity.

Daeron breaks the kiss only to start distributing kisses and small bites on his neck.

You feel one of his hands go up under your dress, slowly running up your leg until he reaches your underwear, where he rips it off.

A small moan comes from you after he passes his finger between your wet folds.

"I've barely got my hands on you and you're already soaked like a silk street courtesan?"

You think about responding but your mouth is filled with a moan, as you feel him work his fingers inside you with a speed and constancy that you didn't know you were capable of. When you start to feel a familiar feeling form in your stomach Daeron removes his fingers from you, causing a small nervous expression to form on his face.

"I think we're going to have to speed things up a little love, we don't want to get caught here, right?" The same person speaks while lifting her dress to her waist and then lowering her own pants to release their length.

"I promise we'll finish this before anyone else shows up." He says the same thing as he picks me up with a small push, causing his intimacy to rub together in the process.

Daeron lines up against your entrance and pushes, and then looks into your eyes for some denial, when he doesn't find it he slowly pushes into you. A moan escapes as you feel yourself being stretched.

"Oh gods, how tight you are." He moaned as he began to give light thrusts.

You smile mischievously when a

The thought cuts through your mind, you approach his ear and whisper.

"What is it Daeron? Is that all you can do?"

The same for any attack and gives him a mocking smile.

"I was thinking of treating you to a lady, but since your desire is different..."

Daeron tightens his hands on your waist and without any warning begins to thrust into you quickly and deeply, it doesn't take long for him to find your sweet spot, which makes you wrap your arms around him, scratching his back from above. of his clothes.

Quickly the two turn into a mess of moans and whispers, you feel the sensation of an orgasm rip through you, a while later you feel it fill your insides with his seed.

Daeron places one more kiss on your lips before withdrawing inside you and then going to put on your clothes. When finished, he turns his attention to you, placing your clothes in their proper place.

"Do we still hate each other?" He asks, pressing two foreheads together.

"Yes, we still hate each other."

You both let out small laughs before locking your lips together.

At that moment you were both sure that maybe the marriage between you two wouldn't be so bad.

#house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #house targaryen #hotd x you #house of the dragon x reader #daeron targaryen

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cringefandomtrash · 4 months ago

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Hogwarts Legacy Characters.

Gonna show off all my Hogwarts Legacy characters, with little blurbs and facts about them.

My version of Hogwarts is a University; all characters are aged up to 18+. All the Hogwarts Legacy 5th years are roughly 21.

Alice is the main MC, all the others exist in the same universe as her.

We'll start with the main one...

Alice Andromeda Cassowary (She/Her)

~Her full name is Alice Andromeda Cassowary. She's named after her Great-Great-Great Grandmother Alice and her Grandmother Andromeda.

~She's in the Hufflepuff house, which she has technically been sorted into twice.

~She was given a journal by Professor Fig to write her feeling out in, after he met her. Inside the journal was a note from Fig that says 'For the things you can't say out loud'.

~She has two younger brothers named George and Killian who are twins.

~She's paired with Ominis Gaunt.

~She got the scar across the bridge of her nose from a stray piece of wood from the dragon attack on hers and Fig's carriage to Hogwarts. The Wiggenweld potion closed the wound but left it scarred over.

~Alice is the shortest of these characters, being only 4'10ft/147cm

~Her Patronus is a Saint Bernard. I did this because I thought it'd be funny for a really short Hufflepuff girl to have her Patronus be one of the largest dog breeds.

Next up with have...

Karen Heinous (She/Her)

~Karen was originally made with an online friend and was based around the specific haircut she wears in-game. We thought it looked like a Karen Haircut.

~Karen's original last name was " 'Murica" as in America, as a nod to a stereotypical American Karen. As a nod to this, her Patronus is an Eagle.

~Karen is distantly related to Headmaster Black through marriage and thinks it makes her super important and above everyone.

~She's in the Slytherin House.

~She has two older sisters, named Amelia and Penelope.

~Karen is 5'4ft/162cm

Our next character is...

Marjorie Festus (She/They)

~Marjorie was the hardest to design. I originally wanted to give her black hair, but that made her look too much like a female Harry Potter. I then tried ginger/red hair which made her look too much like a Weasley. She also originally had the Professor Garlick braids hair mod, before I decided against it.

~Marjorie is in Gryffindor, but she was almost placed in Ravenclaw.

~She has a pet Ferret named Charlie.

~Marjorie is a muggle-born student.

~She's 5'9ft/174cm

~Marjorie has an older sister named Erika, who has been her caretaker since their parents died. They've struggled since and Marjorie hopes going to Hogwarts and getting a job in the wizarding world can help ease the stress on her Sister.

~Marjorie has a black hairbow that she always wears. It was given to her by her Sister, Erika.

And last but not least, we have...

Diaval Knight (They/Them)

~Diaval is Nonbinary, however they are mostly in the closet. Especially when it comes to their family.

~Diaval is a half-blood. Their mother is a Witch and their father † is a Muggle.

~Diaval's mother taught them that showing emotion is weak, as a result, Diaval grew to be incredibly emotionless. They don't know/remember how most emotions feel.

~Diaval is in Ravenclaw.

~They are the tallest of the 4, being 6'3ft/190cm

~They love to play Quidditch and Imelda is their closest friend since they often discuss it together. Diaval plays as a Keeper.

~Diaval hates to wear their robe over their uniform, finding it uncomfortable.

I hope you all enjoyed reading about my characters. Sorry if this was long and formatted weirdly, I'm still learning to navigate Tumblr some. <3

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy game #hogwarts oc #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #hufflepuff #ravenclaw #slytherin #gryffindor #hogwarts houses #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts #wizarding world #harry potter

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exitpursuedbyavulcan · 2 years ago

Text

The Silver Dragon (20/?)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Original Female Character

Word Count: 2658

Story Summary: Lady Arianwyn Targaryen, the Lady of Runestone, was seeded by her father, the Rogue Prince Daemon Targaryen, in an act of unbridled hatred, and borne of her mother, the late Lady Rhea Royce, as a desperate grasp at revenge.

Ignored by her father, and alone following the death of her mother, she is raised in King’s Landing alongside her cousin, Prince Aemond Targaryen. As they grow, the two find themselves indelibly bonded. But their lives are far from the fairy tales they read, and as tensions in the family rise, they find their paths may diverge.

Will they be pulled apart when the dragons dance?

Chapter Summary: Daemon confronts his daughter.

Warnings: Mentions of rape. Violence.

Series Masterlist

Taglist: @thelittleswanao3 @trap-house-homiecide @50svibes @literishdegree99 @dc-marvel-girl96 @henriettadreaming @multiple-fandoms-girl @gyuxmilk

The Library

Arianwyn had hardly made it out of Maegor’s Holdfast before her legs failed her, and she collapsed against a wall. She hung her head between her knees as she ran her hand through her hair, not caring when she thoroughly dismantled the braided bun Baela had done earlier that day.

How had everything gone so wrong?

Only minutes ago, she had been sitting with Aemond, her hand on his thigh and his eye on her lips, feeling as though nothing else in the world even mattered or existed.

Now she was so sure that it would be the last time she saw him smile, for a long while, if not forever. Daemon would not forgive his words, nor the way he had easily dispatched Jace. Even when she was of age, her father would fight against her happiness with everything he had.

“Aria!” Aemond’s voice echoing through the hall stopped her from spiraling further into paranoia. She stood from the floor to grab onto him as he crashed into her, holding her as though he would never let her go.

His voice was strained with desperation as he whispered into her hair. “Aria, I am so sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I just got so angry, and I…”

Arianwyn shook her head into his chest, failing to stop his blustering as he pressed kiss after kiss onto her head.

“I won’t let him hurt you, I promise. I’ll stand guard outside your bedchamber myself. I’ll – ”

“I’m leaving, Aemond. Tonight.”

Silence.

It had not felt real until it left her lips. Even as she had packed her bag with Brynna and practiced opening the hidden door again and again until she knew exactly where to press the keystone, it felt like a faraway dream.

It had not been real until Aemond knew.

He stared at the wall, blinking furiously to try and clear his mind as he considered her words. “I don’t understand,” he said.

Daemon and Rhaenyra had said nothing about their returning to Dragonstone so soon. None of their other children had been commanded to pack. Why was Arianwyn leaving?

She pulled away, gazing up at him with eyes full of determination and regret. “There are tunnels throughout the castle,” she explained. “Rhaenys showed me. Tonight, Brynna and I will use them to escape. We will go to Runestone, where I will hide until I am of age, and Daemon holds no more power over me.”

Aemond scoffed, though his eyes shone with angry tears. He did not know whether his distaste for her plan was because of how foolish it was or that he did not want her to go without him. “Runestone will be the first place he searches for you. He will have you within a month, if not sooner.”

“Then I will hide someplace else!” Arianwyn hissed, not wanting to raise her voice for fear of being discovered. “But I cannot stay here, and I cannot return to Dragonstone. If he can’t whore me out to some brutish old Lord before he tires of my presence, he will kill me, Aemond! Especially after…”

She did not need to finish her thought. Aemond knew he had sealed her fate with his words at dinner. For that, he would never forgive himself.

“Let me come with you,” he begged. “I can protect you, and Brynna. I can help you find a safe place to hide.”

Arianwyn smiled sadly. “I wish you could,” she said, fighting back tears. “I really do. But he would only say that you stole me away, and paint you as the villain. And I will not allow that.”

She cupped his cheek in her hand, pulling his face closer to hers until their foreheads touched and the tips of their noses bumped together. “I will come back. And when I do, we will finally be together.”

Her eyes fluttered closed as she leaned forward to kiss him at last. But in the heartbeat before their lips touched, Aemond sharply pulled back. When Arianwyn opened her eyes, she found him looking not at her but at the man prowling down the hall.

Daemon. With a scowl on his face and death in his eyes.

Arianwyn’s heart pounded hard and slow. Bunching Aemond’s shirt in her hands, she pushed him away from her. “Go!” she shouted. “Go now!”

“Aria…” Aemond warned, taking up a defensive stance.

“If you don’t go right this instant, I shall hate you for the rest of my life,” she growled.

His nostrils flared as he fought the instinct to protect the woman he loved. But he remembered what had stopped him from killing Daemon moments ago: he needed witnesses. Someone to prove the death was justified. That he was not an evil man who would slay his own kin without righteous cause.

With a last helpless glance at Arianwyn, Aemond planted another kiss on her temple before bolting down the hall – away from her and from Daemon.

Feeling the loss of Aemond by her side like a severed limb, Arianwyn steeled herself as she faced her father. Surely, he would not kill her now, not when his wife had only just pledged them to peace in their family.

She realized just how useless that pledge was when Daemon wrapped his hand around her throat and thrust her head back into the hard stone wall, his nails sinking into her skin until a single droplet of crimson blood slid down her neck.

Rather than fear for her life or pray to the gods to save her, all Arianwyn could do was wonder whether the blood would stain her beautiful gown.

“Are you not capable of keeping your legs closed for one gods-damned day, you hateful little slut?” Daemon hissed, the sour smell of wine on his breath. He tightened his grip on her neck until she had nowhere to look but into his wrathful eyes.

Still, Arianwyn felt no fear.

She had lived for so long consumed by dread for what her father may do to her. Throughout her childhood, she dreaded his continued indifference toward her. Then she dreaded his anger, his keen hatred. The way that, with a single word, he could destroy her happiness. And now, she dreaded his following through on his threat of killing her.

At least if he did, she would finally be free of him.

With a surge of confidence, she smiled at Daemon, a dark laugh escaping her lips. “A trait I seem to have inherited from you, dear father.” When he started to respond, she cut him off, “Go on, spit your venom. It cannot sting me anymore.”

“Hold your tongue, or you may lose it,” he snarled, pushing her further into the wall. But the chill in the rough stone only invigorated her – it matched the ice in her veins.

“Like Vaemond Velaryon lost his?” she taunted, all too aware that with each word, she was baiting a dangerous beast. “If you can’t manage to hit your mark with Valyrian steel, how do you expect to hurt me when you are unarmed?”

The muscles in her neck strained painfully as Daemon roared, pushing her higher and higher until the heels of her feet lifted from the floor. With every excruciating moment that passed, she was amazed that her head did not simply fall from her shoulders.

“Your bitch mother displayed a similar wit,” he jeered, cocking his head as a dark haze crossed his eyes. He was silent for a moment before a vile sneer crossed his lips. “It did not last long.”

At that, something in Arianwyn’s heart snapped, like a crack tearing through a glacier, and something far more dangerous than even a dragon slipped through.

“Which mother would that be?” she asked with a voice as sickeningly sweet as candied lemons. “The one you killed, the one you neglected, or the one you’re now using for her throne?”

Then, with a speed that surprised even her, she reached into her skirts and pulled out Brynna’s embroidery shears. Clamping the blades together in her fist, she plunged the tip into Daemon’s hand – into the soft, vulnerable flesh between his forefinger and thumb. She struck with such force that the shears pierced all the way through, stopping only when she felt the steel bite against her own skin.

Daemon screeched in pain, jumping back and releasing Arianwyn’s throat. Her slippers had barely hit the floor before she was running, as fast as her trembling legs would take her, through the dark halls of the castle.

She did not know where she was going. The shock at what she had just done was only just hitting her, and tears stung her blurring eyes. She was running on pure instinct, though her mind screamed at her from far away to somehow make it back to her rooms, to where Brynna was waiting for her.

Then she tripped.

One of the tiles of the corridor floor had come loose and risen just enough to send her tumbling to the floor. Her left slipper came off as she skidded to a halt, her now-scuffed hands breaking her fall.

From the distance, she could hear footsteps coming toward her.

In that moment, she recalled a fairy tale she and Aemond had once read. A wayward shoe had led a Valyrian Prince to his lost Princess.

Arianwyn was not in a fairy tale.

No, this was a monster story.

She would not allow something as absurd as a lost shoe to lead her vengeful father to her. Instead, she tore her other slipper off her foot and grabbed the other from the floor as she began to run again. Once she came to an intersection of corridors, she threw the shoes down one hall and turned to run the other way.

Her lungs burned as she ran further and further, past the limits of her aching muscles. She did not stop until the sound of footsteps had faced, and she reached two large oaken doors.

The library doors.

She knew she should turn back. She should return to her rooms, her packed bag, and the tunnel that led to her freedom.

But still, she found her hand drifting over the great brass doorknobs. She had said her goodbye to Aemond, though it had not been the way she imagined. Perhaps she could take a moment to say goodbye to the library too.

The library was eerily quiet. With only two flickering candles illuminating the grand shelves, most would find the empty halls unsettling, perhaps even haunting.

But for Aemond and Arianwyn, this was a place of ultimate comfort. The place they had spent countless nights together, eagerly devouring knowledge by the same dim candlelight. This was the place they had always been able to cheer each other, even on their darkest days. This library was sacred to them. More than any other place, this was their home.

She had to be here.

With a quick gesture, Aemond signaled for Ser Criston and Arianwyn’s retinue of Runestone guards he had brought with him to fan out and search for her among the stacks. Though if she were here, he knew precisely where she would be. With his sword still at the ready, Aemond carefully and quietly made his way through the sprawling rows of shelves.

Past the oldest and most prestigious tomes, chained in place near the doors to impress foreign visitors. Past the religious texts his mother had ordered moved forward only a few years ago. Past the most flattering histories of each noble house, hand selected by their loyal Maesters over the years.

There she was.

Beneath the shelves of their precious alcove, the walls lined with the surviving histories and legends of Old Valyria, Arianwyn sat under their table, crying softly as she gazed at the book in her lap.

Silently, Aemond sheathed his sword and approached. His heart wrenched in agony when he beheld the two trails of freshly dried blood running down her neck and the already bruising skin beneath her jaw.

“Aria?” he called gently.

Her silver eyes snapped to him in a moment of fear, but they softened when she saw him.

He knelt beside the table, mouth agape as he stared at her wounds, “What happened?”

Following his gaze, she brought her hand to her neck as if she had forgotten the blood that lay there. “Oh,” she whispered, her voice raw. “I stabbed him.”

“You what?” Aemond asked in disbelief. He could hardly imagine her hurting anyone, let alone stabbing them. Though, he supposed if she was going to, it would be Daemon.

Wiping the thick blood from her hand onto her dress before closing her book – the first history of Valyria they had ever read together – she stared distantly across the library hall. “He was choking me. And he insulted my mother. So, I stabbed him.”

Aemond could not help the pride that rose in his chest nor the breathless laugh that escaped his lips. “With what?”

Arianwyn returned the smile as she looked back to him, “Brynna’s embroidery shears.”

They both began to laugh in earnest, as though she had not been moments from death, and he not seconds from declaring war.

When they finally came down from snickering, Arianwyn patted the ground next to her. “Come join me,” she said.

He shook his head. “I’m afraid I don’t fit anymore. Will you come out?”

She grinned again but complied with his request. The book forgotten behind her, she rose to take Aemond’s hand.

“Is Daemon still alive?” he asked, afraid of what her answer might be.

She nodded, sadness again taking over her features. Whatever trance she had been in was swiftly fading. “It was only his hand,” she whispered.

Tears came again to Arianwyn’s eyes. She sniffed, wiping her eyes with her sleeves. Aemond caught her wrist as it fell. He brought her hand up to his lips, kissing it softly before entwining his fingers with hers.

“Please don’t cry, Aria,” he begged. His voice was so soft, so delicate. “Not here.”

Arianwyn smiled despite the aching in her heart. Was that truly what was upsetting him right now? Her crying? “He will kill me, Aemond,” she kept her voice strong through her tears. “After what I did, he won’t care what the court may think. He won’t even care that he’ll lose me as a bargaining chip. He just wants me dead.”

She expected words of comfort. An apology, perhaps. After all, it was his disastrous, misguided toast that had sparked her father’s rage. But he just stood there, utterly silent, holding her hand in his as the candles continued to melt.

An idea floated through Aemond’s mind. He was about to dismiss it as simply the fanciful notion of the lovesick boy he had once been. But when he truly considered it, he realized it could be the answer to all Arianwyn’s woes.

“No. He won’t.”

She had heard those words from him before. But this time, it was different. It wasn’t the suddenness of his declaration that shocked her nor the strength with which he gripped her hand. It was the sheer determination in his voice. She had not heard such intensity from him since the night he claimed Vhagar. Though she had no idea what he could mean, something about the confidence that shone in his eye comforted her.

“How?” she asked.

He grinned openly. “Daemon only holds such power over you because you are his daughter, and you are not yet of age.”

She turned her eyes down as he spoke, but he cupped her chin and raised her eyes to his. He knew it wasn’t fair, but she needed to hear the truth.

“You are a woman. Until you, at last, become the Lady of Runestone, you are powerless.”

Arianwyn scowled. “Yes, I know this, Aemond. It is precisely the problem and – “

“Marry me.”

Next Chapter

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blankd · 7 days ago

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DA: dogguard Veilguard opinion (crossposted + expanded from twitter)

I only know about dragon age through osmosis, my friend is playing it while I sit in, and so far my major criticism of VG is that the game is flanderizing its own characters at breakneck speeds and the banter feels incredibly weak DESPITE that aspect being one of the more signature traits of DA

regardless of how the journey ultimately goes, it's an experience that I'm taking notes on as a game/narrative designer for MushRush since you will be carting around a similar number of fantastical companions

read more has more scattershot, but specific thoughts; contains spoilers up to after having JUST finished recruiting all of the companions

disclaimer: I don't know shit about DA LORE, so I'll probably misspell locations, etc., I don't care enough to correct any of it.

the early game has real "shaky first draft" issues where characters repeat themselves or say nothing insightful or at least entertaining. it's gotten better since after the mayor in d'meta, but there have still been some instances of dialogue triggering that makes rook come across as hilariously unobservant such as them noting there are "a lot of undead" in the necropolis you pick up emmrich in. dead bodies in MY NECROPOLIS???

another part that sticks out to me is that the female characters are getting shafted hard since they are all (mostly) introduced before the male characters, so the "1st draft writing pains" get assigned to them

however, neve is unfortunately the Worst Companion so far, followed by harding (will elaborate on her later).

I still don't have a grasp on what neve's companion hook even is- even AFTER letting minathrous get dragon nuked. all I got was "neve is sarcastic and dry and job-oriented, followed around by sprites???" which is a shame since a mage detective should BE ENOUGH but she doesn't have the GRIT of a noir detective or the clever observations of one who is more holmes-aligned. her room does more to characterize her, which is good for the art team but a shame to the writers (even as they try to pepper in more interesting traits about her through other characters)

so we have to fall back to what the game DOES tell us, such as approval/disapproval, of the 2 instances of her showing disapproval, we couldn't figure out WHY she disapproved. (1st was doubting varric could convince solas to stop fucking up everything, 2nd was for leaving the mayor in his fucked up town)

my friend and I formed several theories for something internally consistent:

-neve doesn't like it when you assume the worst of people (tall ask considering what solas was actively doing, but it's a BELIEF) -neve doesn't like it when you doubt/question authority/authority figures -neve believes the gods truly override people (my friend joked "SECRET CHANTRY GIRLIE??") -neve doesn't like that we are "being mean to a man" (this is a joke I made) -neve is a contrarian because when you only have two characters, someone HAS to have a different opinion (this is purely meta and still poorly executed)

whatever it is that makes neve tick, we're probably not going to find out since she's HARDENED or w/e because we chose birdbatman over her (my friend was aware of the effects of the choice locking out Neve/Lucanis content, but debated over the choice because of the LORE, the tipping point occurred when I asked if they cared about Neve content which was an obvious NO)

TL;DR: we are currently getting more mileage/chuckles out of "NEVE DISAPPROVES" during choices than from anything the game intends, UNFORTUNATELY

----

next up is harding, harding is a perfectly normal character with some obvious insecurities and now having to grapple with magic. unfortunately the writers have tipped their hand that they care more about harding's LORE ties with the titans/gods than as a character

the most awkward handing of this is when we did harding's personal sidequest of trying to get a handle on her powers (perfectly fine!), but then it just abruptly STOPS because we help some random fucking guy in the forest

the real nail in the coffin came when she (essentially) went "solas seems sad tho )8", despite being the same character that hated she didn't shoot him to stop the inciting incident. I personally would have appreciated if she had more doubts/expressed conflicts about her action/inaction, about it but as-is, the exchange feels WAY too much like the writers taking shortcuts to make solas grey (or god forbid, "GOOD", ACTUALLY). varric is already running interference, having harding do it too just tells me they're willing to throw other characters under the bus to accomplish this annoying goal.

as an aside: when this conversation occurred I said something to the effect of "Harding, no!! Don't make us throw you into the basement with Neve!!!"

----

returning back to the point of how the female characters seem to be suffering a lack of writing effort compared to the male ones- bellera is a noticeable example of this.

her characterization is purely fixated on magictech (fine), she gets more character as soon as emmrich gets introduced (not bad in a vacuum), but despite being present with harding and neve, the most conversation she seems to have is that she can cook different foods and neve wants in on some of the cooking. again it could have been "1st draft" pains, but given how fixed the party is at the start, they should have something more going on, ESPECIALLY since harding and bellera disagree with neve on how the mayor and d'meta was handled! bellera supposedly had people she cared about in this town and she glosses over it fairly quickly. also there's a relative lack of reaction to harding (or neve)'s injuries from the solas event.

----

character flanderization as mentioned WAY back at the start, this problem is (too) quickly made apparent with lucanis

I thought the mention of the coffee (WRT to dealing with spite) was intended as a throwaway line and something that would stay confined to the sidequest, instead it comes up in the banter as well, in addition to him being the demon of whatever (and now having a literal demon, har har). the 'most' interesting banter so far is when bellera asks how lucanis's situation even happened, and it's not BAD but I felt there was flavor missing to the exchange

since both characters are noted to be the "good" cooks of the companions, I thought it could hint at how lucanis's favoring of cooking is NOT out of niceness but because he doesn't trust other people to it since he is 1) a fucking assassin ("he stabs people", I don't care, poison exists and he's the grandson of the crow mafia), 2) was force-fed something that saddled him with spite

like I know there's more parts here, but SURELY something spicier and/or more natural than just the point-blank answer, the man was betrayed and landed in prison for a year AND is supposed to be operating on a lack of sleep because of spite, he can be a little snippy about how his bodily autonomy was violated

----

the last recruits:

davrin (at this time) ends up being on the upper end of characters since he's the MOST GROUNDED/NORMAL. he's fine and closest to what neve was probably intended to be, skeptical, has a dry sense of humor, but can trip up rook (our rook didn't recognize that a name davrin held a grudge against is historical). it probably helps he has assan to bounce off of so he can tread closer to have a 3rd dimension of personality (it's TOO early to tell)

emmrich is a professor of necromancy, he's polite/nice but also has no problems with magicking skellieboys into servitude, I'm hoping this old man has some spice going on. also it's a crime he puts on his human face when he has a SKELLIE FACE. COWARDS. I'll forgive it a little since at least he still gets to be OLD, instead of some freakishly smooth bishonen.

taash is a horse girl(TM) but for dragons. they also have hints of relationship with a controlling mother, I have no expectations of this. I'm hoping this isn't another lucanis flanderization situation but that's probably a different game.

the lords of fortune thing is bullshit however, "yeah we steal items but return cultural artifacts" that better be a PR thing purely b/c rook is in the room, otherwise, holy shit I'm dying. like, writers, I could understand some cultural favoritism, but ALL cultural artifacts? what the hell are you talking about??

---

now a main plot writing quibble, just to round it out:

the treviso occupation is driving me insane that they really said with their full narrative mouth that the place with NO military but an ASSASSIN'S GUILD couldn't figure out how to deal with the MOST hierarchy-based military occupying them??? like I get that wouldn't instantly (or permanently) end it, but it just feels absurd!!! what kind of assassin guild doesn't know how to kill ONE GUY, especially when he gives speeches in open areas!

it's just such a HARD SELL that the assassin guild can be so bad at assassination short of some 5d chess backdoor dealings involving the mindrape potions that the antaam were apparently cooking up while avoiding having it traced back to them or something

as for the minrathous/treviso choice, it feels like a missed opportunity to have the macguffin knife be what actually drives the dragon off

like, I KNOW that rook/the player is the center of the world, but you don't LOSE anything by tweaking that detail either, it just comes off as ridiculous that "3" (1) people really would make a difference

anyway, thanks for reading, that was a mountain, we'll see how DA:VG continues

if there's additional DA LORE you think would season my experience (baffled/piss me off/etc.), feel free to comment!

#blankd's blabbies #dragon age veilguard

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therookandthecrow · 19 days ago

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Of course, the only female Rook I'm planning to romance Lucanis with is the closest to a self-insert as possible, without actually being like me. I've given her a lot of my darker personality traits, many of which I have been working on, in earnest. My looks, however, not at all.

Actually, she's based off one of my Tavs, Iellana in looks and personality [for reference, Iellana is a Sharran priestess/'confessor' sort - almost a Dark Justiciar]. I hope I can give Nirasha a dagger tattoo in Dragon Age, because she is essentially her.

There is a lot more about her under the cut. Before that, enjoy my screenshots of how her counterpart looks in Baldur's Gate 3.

Nirasha is coldly distrusting, harsh, and pessimistic, likes to do things 'by the book', she has a resting b---- face [more like a resting murderer face, if we're being fair], she's stubborn, fiercely judgmental, she has an innate sense of superiority, sometimes to the point of arrogance!

She's also very traditional in the way 'this is how we have always done things, why do we need to fix it', very rigid and stern-minded, likes to have every thing accounted for, she does not tolerate mistakes, especially her own. That, and she never forgets a transgression.

In fact, it is a comfort for her to go to sleep imagining the ways in which the people whom have wronged her could potentially die, especially at her own hands. Vindictive is her middle-name. She really needs someone to either reel her in or to encourage her murderous ideations. *cough* Lucanis *cough*

Her demeanor is best described as cagey, guarded, curt, no-nonsense, distant, aloof, unnerving almost. In her other iteration, she is literally a Dark Justiciar of one of the most evil fantasy Gods possible. Don't be fooled by her Vallaslin of June in Veilguard, she'd have got one of the Forgotten Ones, if it was an option.

While judgmental of others, she is more judgmental of herself. A perfectionist, I am not, but she is one. Her death-glare doesn't help either. She has a way of looking at people that makes a lot of them think that she hates them. That is only true half of the time. She actually self-flagellates, emotionally - she is a masochist.

She's coolly sardonic, and on the outside, she appears to be dismissive of other people's feelings. However, she is quite sensitive, especially to criticism, deep down. When wronged, she is ruthless to the point where she won't tolerate anything less than the ruination of those whom have done the wronging.

Forgiveness is not a strong point. I've thought of her as the woman with daggers for eyes. It's hard for her to find the glass half-full, in the proverbial sense. One of her worst traits is that she gives a 'fifty reasons why you suck' speech to people under the guise of being helpful.

While she's good at problem-solving, identifying-patterns and putting them into words, she has a lot to work on in her delivery, because the way in which she words things has hurt other people in the past, even though it was not her intention. It doesn't help that she smirks instead of smiles.

Lucanis may end up "fixing" her, because I like flipping tropes and expectations around, and I've seen too many "I can fix him" posts about Lucanis before the game is even out! I like the idea of Lucanis, even with his own issues, being the person she'd needed all along, while she is the person he's also needed.

She's not a vessel for negative traits of my own, and those which I do not have, but she is intended to be a study of a female character with a lot of traits often associated with male characters. She's supposed to be an asshole who eventually accepts her soft side, and lets herself be vulnerable and breathe for once in her life.

Lucanis is the one who prevent her from succumbing to the darkness inside of her and turning into a monster of a person. I'm actually planning to play her BG3 iteration again sooner than later and romance her with Gale to mirror her relationship with Lucanis in Veilguard.

#dragon age: the veilguard #da: tv #rook: nirasha aldwir #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #tav: iellana straeth #elven rook #lucanis dellamorte #high elf tav #rook x lucanis #lucanis x rook #veil jumpers rook #noble tav #mage rook #cleric tav #cleric of shar #sharran rook #rookanis

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platinumrosetail · 4 months ago

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i’ve read the rules and i shall confidently ask, could you pretty please with sugar on top (if it makes you feel comfortable and you aren’t burnt out/ have a writer’s block/ uncomfortable) do a yandere callum x elf! reader (and maybe also a yandere rayla too 👀) where the reader is just trying to get back to Xadia but dear yandere is like “mmmm nope, you’re stuck here now, i will use the power of magic to keep you here” or reader tries to escape and fails but gets like a really bad punishment cause she tried to escape on like a special day or something along those lines

i never thought i’d see this kind of writing ask so THANK YOU and have some digital food! 🎂🍿🍭🍩🍪🍬🍫🥛🧃🧋🍎🍉🍓🥯🍟🍣🍤🍝🍜🍦🍡🥠

Oooh interesting, I’ll definitely do this, thank you for the requesting 😁 also I’ll be genderbending rayla (ray in this) as I don’t do female x reader so I asked if that’s ok with them and they said yea so here we are lol anyway hope yall like it!

Characters: callum, male!rayla.

Warnings: noob author, female reader, yandere characters, aged up characters, and others.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

you had met callum and ray when they were on their mission with callum's little half brother; ezran, to take the dragon prince egg to his mother you decided to join them not thinking of how you shouldn't as it lead to a bad future, at least for you.

while on that journey you had gained a crush on both callum and ray of course you didn't know at the time that that would be your downfall in the future.

after the journey and everything was at peace for now you, callum and ray got in a poly relationship which in the past would have made you happy as you got to b with the two you loved but now it all seemed like a big mistake.

ray had unexpectedly leave, looking for viren and claudia which made callum paranoid that you would leave next if he didn't imprison you in the your room most of the time, only letting you out when he felt like he could trust you to be out even if he was by your side; watching, to make sure you never left.

you had succeed in escaping by pure luck, only getting about 2 days away when ray decided to finally show up after 2 years on his search for viren and claudia. ray learned the news pretty quick on how you had escaped 2 days before he returned and immediately went to search for you with callum; the two ad to go after you as the royal guards couldn't find you what with you being elf but since callum is a mage and ray is also a elf they were abl to find you much quicker than if callum went by himself.

once the three of you returned to the castle you had been given a punishment; the punishment being grounded to your room with only them coming in and out, so that you would only have to rely on them for food, water and entertainment.

you had slowly started accepting that you would never be able to escape them. they were happy with you accepting them as they had loved you since the 2 had met you as well as each other. but what they didn't know was that they would soon have a problem, not from you but rom your father, who had longed to find you as he had lost you a long time ago, thinking you were dead.

(A/n: so i hoped y'all liked it! i decided to add a little something at the end because i thought it be a interesting idea to add, i want y'all to guess who the father is as well, i would think it be pretty easy to guess so i won't be giving hints so comment who and i'll answer who is correct! anyway i think that's it so i hope y'all have a wonderful day/evening/night!!)

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anneapocalypse · 2 years ago

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Too Many Thoughts About Sera: A Love Letter

This post was originally part of a big long write-up I did after my first complete playthrough of Inquisition a few years ago and posted on dreamwidth and later here. It has been slightly edited to stand on its own here, but it's mostly the same. I thought it might be worth it post it as a standalone, so here is a slightly less analytical and more feelingsy post about Why I Love Sera So Much.

I understand not everyone likes Sera and that's completely okay but I am going to request that you refrain from outright dumping on her or making personal attacks on her writer on this post.

If you're interested in my more recent efforts at an in-depth analysis of Sera's character and background, you can check out my Sera Series.

Knowing my affinity for difficult, complicated, "unlikable" female characters, I was probably doomed from the start. But the truth is I did not go into this knowing I would love Sera. I just wanted to get to know her, regardless of how I ended up feeling about her. So I romanced her with my mage Trevelyan, the first Inquisitor I actually finished.

And at the end of that journey... yeah, I love Sera. I love her a lot.

So let's talk about Sera. As a character, as a companion, and as a love interest, because in this playthrough I got to experience her as all three.

And disclaimer up front that I know Sera is a controversial character in the fandom and there are a variety of reasons for that, so if you don't like Sera, that's fine. Some of this may read as an impassioned defense of her, and it kind of is, but it's not a manifesto; it's mostly that I have a lot of thoughts and feelings I'm excited to share.

Sera is a city elf orphaned young and raised as the ward of a human noblewoman, Lady Emmald, an upbringing which has left her with both a troubled relationship to elven identity, and a deep hatred of the nobility. We get only a brief glimpse into Sera's childhood with Lady Emmald, as she does not like to talk about it, but we can gather that the memories that have stuck with her are not good ones, most notably the "pride cookies" story that Sera will share with the Inquisitor at a high enough level of friendship. Lady Emmald would buy cookies from a local baker and pass them off as homemade, unwilling to admit she wasn't good at baking. To keep Sera from finding out, Emmald told her the baker hated elves so that she would never go there. She led Sera to believe she was hated and to hate in return, all to protect her own pride. To this day, cookies bring up bad memories for Sera.

World of Thedas Volume 2 suggests that Sera may have inherited Lady Emmald's estate when her guardian died of illness sometime before the Blight, but rejected her inheritance, wanting nothing more to do with that life. I don't believe this ever comes up in the game, however.

As an adult, Sera is a member of the Friends of Red Jenny, a loose network of common people who collaborate across Thedas to benefit one another's interests and offer some degree of protection from or revenge for the abuses of nobles where they can. Sera's Red Jenny affiliation is a nice bit of continuity from previous games which I like a lot. The Friends of Red Jenny are first mentioned in a cryptic little side quest in Origins wherein the Warden delivers a small painted box to a location in Denerim on the instructions of a note looted from a body after an ambush, for the reward of a few gold coins. In Dragon Age II, Hawke can clear the streets of bandits and undesirables at night and return to "A Friend" in the Hanged Man for rewards; at the end of that quest line, "A Friend" is revealed to be a Friend of Red Jenny. And now in Inquisition, we have a Red Jenny companion, who brings her network of Friends and unorthodox methods to the Inquisition. (It's also suggested in the war table operation "Red Jenny and the Tantervale Charade" that Hawke's cousin Charade Amell is a Jenny operating out of Tantervale in the Free Marches, which would explain a lot about Charade's roundabout ploys to get Gamlen's attention!)

I think it's safe to say that Sera's personal identity is most strongly rooted in a kind of class consciousness; she identifies first as what she would call a "little person," a commoner.

And it's worth noting that Sera doesn't respect social climbers any more than she respects the existing nobility, which comes out a lot in her banter and in her responses to various quests. She disapproves, for example, if in "Noble Deeds, Noble Hearts" the Inquisitor gives proof of Fairbanks' noble heritage to Clara; she approves if you respect Fairbanks' wishes to keep his parentage a secret and live as a commoner. In "Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts," she disapproves of reconciling Celene and Briala, but approves of any outcome that involves blackmail (either against Gaspard or against all three parties).

I think there's an interesting contrast to be had, too, between Sera and Vivienne, both of whom are characters I like and find quite interesting. And despite what you might think if you take their conversations at face value, I think their relationship is quite a bit more complicated than Vivienne being more privileged than Sera and looking down on her. Vivienne dresses, talks, and behaves like a noble, yes—but she's not a noble. Vivienne was born to Rivaini merchants and raised in the Circle of Magi, where she rose to First Enchanter of Montsimmard and then Enchanter to the Imperial Court of Orlais—a position that according to Leliana was once "little more than Court Jester" until Vivienne herself worked to make the appointment a position of respect. Sera is elven and common-born yet inherited a noble fortune; while she probably would never have held a title in Ferelden, she could have had greater financial resources at her disposal, had she not rejected them. It's easy to forget, but both Sera and Vivienne have come from fairly humble origins, and both of them have been presented with some unique opportunities given those origins.

Vivienne holds considerable influence in Orlais for a mage, but we should not forget that she has had to work for every scrap of it. Vivienne's manner, the way she approaches every situation with confidence and poise and her head held high, is just how one survives in Orlais. If you're not looking down at someone, you're looking up at them, and if you're looking up you're under someone's boot. On the one hand I don't love the way Vivienne treats Sera, especially a romanced Sera; on the other hand I must admit that "It's nothing personal, darling. I am demonstrably better than most" is an absolutely sick burn and I did laugh. (These days, I am frequently more amused by companion acrimony than I probably should be; I think somewhere around DA2 I just gave up on being bothered when companions don't like each other and instead embraced the comedy gold that often comes with it.)

There's a delightful little bit of party banter where Blackwall (who shares much of Sera's distaste for the nobility) needles Vivienne a bit about how she must miss being away from the luxuries of Val Royeaux. To this, Vivienne breezily responds, "I miss them. I do not require them. But please, continue to imagine me a pampered lady, if it makes you feel superior."

I am reminded here of the ongoing tension between Solas and Sera that comes out frequently in their party banter. At one point Solas will remark that it is a shame she was "denied an elven life," and Sera fires back, "Ooh! You think the only reason I'm not elfy is because I had no choice? Poor me, right?" At multiple points Solas will offer opinions on Red Jenny. When he asks Sera, "Do you wish to disrupt the nobility, secure a title? Or change the political structure entirely?" Sera responds with dismay, "None of it! I don't want any of that!"

Set these next to each other and they show us how Sera and Vivienne are alike and how they are different. Vivienne has worked hard to achieve upward mobility, and the reward for her success is that everyone assumes she is too privileged to know anything else. Sera has deliberately rejected upward mobility (as well as "elfiness") in favor of class solidarity, and is rewarded by people assuming that she is too stupid and ignorant to have chosen anything else.

Sera and Vivienne do not like one another, and probably never would, and Vivienne especially doesn't approve of the Inquisitor romancing Sera and makes that known (I'm sure the reverse would also be true if Vivienne were romanceable, which she isn't, because the world isn't fair). Both of their identities and worldviews are rooted in a certain understanding of power and power structures, but they approach those structures completely differently. Vivienne is a climber, believing it worthwhile to try and reach the top. Sera despises climbers, preferring to stay on the ground and fire arrows upward. And yet as different as they are, they have both made very deliberate choices with regard to their social status, and both will in their own way call out the assumptions other people make about them.

I think the biggest question that arises with Sera is, if she thinks the nobility is so terrible, then why isn't she trying to actively change the existing power structure? This is certainly Solas's confusion, as expressed in this conversation:

Solas: I do not understand you, Sera. You have no end goal for your organization. Sera: Nobles get rattled, and people get payback. I play in the middle. Solas: Why not go all the way? You see injustice, and you have organized a group to fight it. Don’t you want to replace it with something better? Sera: What, just lop off the top? What’s that do, except make a new top to frig it all up? Solas: I…forgive me. You are right. You are fine as you are.

This, I think, gets at some of Sera's core beliefs about power and why she prefers to act from below rather than trying to get to the top. Sera views structural power as inherently corrupting. Anyone who makes it to the top is going to frig it up.

That's what being at the top means.

We might call it a failure of imagination on Sera's part that she doesn't seem to be able to consider the possibility of creating a different kind of power structure, only replacing who's at the top. And, well, fair enough. But consider even in our own world, with a variety of governing structures on display for us, the challenge of imagining something completely new and then envisioning a realistic path to it. (And if you've got that all figured out, let me know!)

Sera is class-conscious, Sera identifies and organizes around class-consciousness, but she is not a revolutionary. We might criticize that about her, but why lay that burden on her, specifically, when the Inquisition is packed to the gills with people who have far more structural power than Sera? This setting is full of injustices, but it is worth questioning why the burden of righting them should be laid on this character, specifically, when she is already dedicated to helping other "little people" in smaller and less risky ways.

Once the Inquisitor gets friendly with Sera, they can ask her more about herself, about where she's from. In this conversation she'll talk about the Red Jennies in Denerim where she grew up, and she'll mention that some other Jennies were "a lot more serious about being serious" and that it got some of them killed—a reminder that Sera's "little people" have plenty to lose. And Sera really hates anyone who gets less powerful people hurt and killed for their own ends. I think this is really at the heart of both her visceral hatred for nobles and her passion for Red Jenny, and this becomes really clear during the "The Verchiel March," when Sera will get more and more upset if the Inquisitor keeps talking to Lord Harmond and appears amenable to working with him. She never set out intending to kill the Verchiel nobles, only rattle them a little, but after Harmond murders an unwitting informant in front of her? She's furious. She wants him dead. And if the Inquisitor is willing to work with him, that makes the Inquisitor someone who can't be trusted.

So let's talk about Sera's relationship to elven identity. There's no question that it's a complicated one; one of the first things she says to an elf Inquisitor (which at the time of writing I'm currently playing) is an offhanded "Hope you're not too elfy." You don't get an approval hit for saying she's "different for an elf," but she will respond to the effect that she doesn't appreciate assumptions being made about her based on her being an elf, which doesn't seem unreasonable, honestly. I've seen Sera's attitude framed as self-hatred but I do feel like it's a bit more complicated than that; has she struggled with self-hatred in her life, yes, absolutely--the cookie story makes that very clear. But I think that to simply say Sera hates herself for being an elf is an oversimplification in the same way as saying Vivienne hates herself for being a mage. Sera definitely has some insecurities, and I think Vivienne needles her accurately when she remarks that Sera actually cares a great deal what people think of her. At this point in her life, however, I don't feel like she hates being an elf so much as she hates when all people (elves and otherwise) see in her is their own presumptions about what elves are or should be, and not who she is.

Elven identity is a complicated thing in this universe, and tensions between city elves and Dalish elves is certainly nothing new. Dalish elves largely view themselves as the sole keepers of elven culture, calling city elves "flat ears" and in some cases barely regarding them as elves, and yet I would argue that alienage culture is also elven culture. Though they are not referenced as a group in-game, we also see plenty of examples of what we might call "country elves"—elves who live on farms and in villages in more rural areas, some of whom still maintain a bit of the ancient language and a belief in the ancient gods. (The elf family you meet in Lothering comes to mind, as well as various NPCs around the Hinterlands.) Even among elven servants, which could be regarded as a sort of sub-class in itself, there seems to be a kind of subtle understanding and solidarity, based on Briala's point of view in The Masked Empire. All of these are elven culture.

Sera is on the extreme end of not identifying with elven culture generally, but I want to draw a distinction between Dalish culture (which might be called a kind of Elvhen reconstructionism) and elven culture generally. Sera is not fond of the Dalish, but I'm also not sure how much contact with Dalish elves she's actually had, considering that she's lived most of her life in major cities. So I have to wonder if her particular irritation with the Dalish comes from interactions with actual Dalish elves, or from their general reputation. I'm not saying the Dalish wouldn't be rude to Sera; many of them definitely would. I'm just not sure if her feelings about them come from direct experience with the Dalish or from other elves generally.

Because Sera does feel alienated by elven culture generally, and if you listen to to her ambient dialogue and banter throughout the game, if you take her on quests and listen to the things she says, it becomes really obvious that being told she's the wrong kind of elf is a particularly sharp pain point for Sera and has left her with a lot of anger and resentment. I don't know from whom exactly this has come, because she never goes into details, but it's obviously something she's heard a lot.

I had Sera with me for most of Jaws of Hakkon on this playthrough, and she has some really interesting dialogue for Finn, a young Avvar man who is in danger of being disowned because due to a disabling injury, he is unable to complete the ritual hunt for his late father's funeral rites. "Wait, so he does this or he's the wrong kind of elf?" Sera snaps, like that's something she's been told repeatedly. She clearly feels a powerful compassion and solidarity for Finn, insisting the Inquisitor give the gifts of the hunt to Finn himself so that he can keep his father's name: "We help him. Not asking. Do it." Upon doing so, Sera remarks to Finn, "Say what they want, and you can belong. But maybe when you figure that threatening you was shit, come look for a Jenny." She wants him to have the option to stay with his community, but also for him to know he has somewhere to go should he choose to leave. I really love that. To me, this is Sera at her best, reaching out in solidarity and compassion to help someone outcast, offering them a place to belong.

Sera certainly has her less-sympathetic moments too. Her absolute glee over the revelations from the Temple of Mythal is honestly not cute. I have sympathy for where Sera's coming from on elfy things, but she's really spiteful about it in this case: "The Dalish. Are going. To shit themselves!" She'll get angry at a human Inquisitor (as she did at mine, who was in a romance with her) just for trying to be respectful of what they saw in the temple and not outright denouncing all of elven tradition as rubbish. "You're not even an elf! Why are you being so damned elfy?" There are several ways to resolve this fight, and it certainly wasn't a relationship ender with a human Inquisitor. (I can't speak to elf Inquisitors since I haven't romanced her with one yet.) I certainly don't think it's out of character for Sera, but it definitely exposes some of her pettiness and insecurity. If she were fully secure in who she is, elfy or not, she wouldn't need "elfy elves" discredited to validate her.

But Sera's a flawed character, and that's not a bad thing. I think she does show some growth in subtle ways, too—if an elf Inquisitor befriends her, her journal will include the line: "Book. Read elfy stuff for her (scratched out)." She's trying! In Trespasser her journal entries express concern about whether the Inquisitor is "all right with the elfy stuff" and wanting to be there for them and help if they aren't. A big step forward from the Temple of Mythal!

I also enjoy the way Sera actually comes around to certain people you wouldn't expect her to like, or at least respects them. Of Josephine, Sera remarks that "She's as good at humbling her kind as I am, just with less mess. Knows her business, if you have to have it." And there's this beautiful banter with Dorian:

Sera: So you’re fat with it, right? Dorian: Me? Are you referring to…? Sera: Do you sleep on silk while gold shits down all over you? Are you rich? Dorian: I left all that behind. Although I do miss the gold-shitting from time to time. Sera: You really left it, huh? Knew you weren’t all bad.

I talked quite a bit about Vivienne above, so let's talk about how other characters interact with Sera.

After a successful march through Verchiel, Cullen notes at the war table, "Potential future gains may be impressive. Do not tell Sera I said so."

Why not?

This quest is Sera's first chance to prove her value and the value of her organization to the Inquisition—and she's proven it. (Yes, things go a bit sideways later, but that hasn't actually happened yet, and she continues to bring information and quests to the Inquisition after that setback if allowed to stay.) So, that Cullen doesn't want to acknowledge her value after she's demonstrated it? Well, that sucks a little! We sure wouldn't want to let one of our allies know she's valuable to us. All because he doesn't like her personally—and because she's not important enough to be worth showing respect. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth, honestly, and illuminates a certain feeling I have about the Inquisition generally.

Let's review the backgrounds of the rest of the Inquisition's inner circle, shall we?

Cullen Rutherford, Knight-Captain turned Commander, respected enough to gain the trust of Leliana and Cassandra which is not nothing. Leliana, experienced bard, used to mingling with nobles, friend of the Hero of Ferelden, Left Hand of the Divine. Josephine Montilyet, noble-born, Ambassador. Cassandra Pentaghast, Nevarran royalty, Seeker of Truth promoted to Right Hand of the Divine at a remarkably young age. Dorian Pavus, Tevinter nobility, albeit estranged from his family, still influential enough to be apprenticed to a magister. Varric Tethras, born to a powerful dwarven Merchant Guild family, popular author, friend of the Champion of Kirkwall. Vivienne, Enchanter to the Imperial Court, mistress to the Duke of Ghislain (which in the Orlesian court is considered a respectable enough position to be declared openly). The Iron Bull, Qunari Ben-Hassrath, commander of the Bull's Chargers. Solas, the Dread Wolf of elven legend and though currently known only as an elven apostate, quite vocal about his authority on elven history and his dismay over Sera's everything.

Compare all of those Very Important People to: Blackwall, (not) Grey Warden, traitor, murderer, and liar. Cole, spirit, lost soul. Sera, commoner, elf, Red Jenny.

At the end of the day, you can spin it any number of ways and it's generally in-character for most of them so this isn't a writing complaint, but people look down on Sera. Most of your advisors and companions are either noble-born, used to mingling with nobility, or otherwise Someone Important. Even Blackwall, the closest to Sera in terms of class (and you can tell by how well they get along in party banter), spends most of the game pretending to be Somebody that he isn't. Cole's whole personal conflict is a crisis of identity and fear of his own nature. Sera is low class, crass, broad, common—and an elf to boot. And she doesn't try to hide any of that. She is who she is.

And her commonness is her value. She sees things in a way that people like Cullen and Josephine and Cassandra cannot. She has a perspective most of the Inner Circle doesn't. She is valuable because she is nobody. The founders of the Inquisition make plenty of noise about "restoring order" and you get a lot of dialogue about how the Inquisitor gives hope to "the people" and how important they are to "the people." Well, Sera is the goddamn people. Not to say that she represents all commoners, but if the Inquisition has contempt for the manner and perspective of someone like Sera, they are going to have that same kind of contempt for many of the very people they claim to be protecting, when they actually meet them face to face.

Sera's crassness and prankster tendencies come across as disrespectful, but it's worth asking why exactly everyone else is deserving of her unconditional, unearned respect when they show none to her. Just because they're Very Important People of higher social standing? Is that not an assumption worth interrogating? I think it is, and I think Sera's very presence in the Inquisition invites us to examine assumptions about class and status and respect that might otherwise go unexamined in a story like this. And if you've read my Masked Empire essay, you know that I am 100% here for storytelling in this universe that dismantles the fantasy trope of the benevolent nobility.

It's no mystery why the companion Sera gets along with best is Blackwall, and they have some great friendly banter. I think she might even get along fine with Cole if she didn't know he was a spirit, and if he didn't constantly say out loud really on-the-nose things about people's hidden pain, because that's the stuff about him that freaks her out. If he was just a weird dude who wanted to help people and went about it in some strange ways, I think she'd be cool with him.

I gained a lot of sympathy for Sera over the course of the game and romancing her, but frankly nothing gained me more sympathy for her than seeing how shitty other characters are to her. Sera's used to being treated like dirt, but she's also not going to curtsy and thank you for the pleasure. Fart noises, indeed.

But that's not actually a complaint about the game. Like I said, I think the unexamined disdain for someone like Sera is pretty in-character for most of our Very Important Companions. And I like all of those characters a whole lot, so I'm definitely not trying to slam any characters to uplift Sera. It's good for characters to have flaws. Sera has them. Every companion has them. That's good writing.

Where I do have some complaints is in the ways in which the Inquisitor is able to talk to Sera—or rather, the ways they're not.

For many of the dialogue options with Sera, even the most positive response kind of implies that you're just tolerating her or humoring her. Even when you're trying to role-play as aggressively positive toward Sera as possible, the Inquisitor as written and voiced comes off as confused by her and by Red Jenny. Of course that will make sense for some characters, but the total dearth of a "Sounds rad, count me in" option when Sera tells you about her organization is a source of continual frustration to me. Why, exactly, don't I have the option to say I think Red Jenny is awesome? Why is that not a thing my character can think? Of course I should have the option to say otherwise, but why I assume I won't get it and will need it explained to me over and over?

The concept of the Friends of Red Jenny is not that hard to understand. People with little power banding together to exercise a bit more collectively should not be stupid or baffling. It especially should not be baffling to a mage or a surface dwarf or a Vashoth qunari. It also shouldn't be that confusing that they're working together to achieve small goals and desires without looking to start a large-scale revolution that would likely just get a lot of them killed. It's not complicated, but the game seems to expect you to view it with, at best, confusion, and at worst, contempt. It starts to feel like you're expected to either dislike her or at the very least not "get" her, and that rubs me the wrong way not just because I do like her, but because it feels railroady. I should have the option to vibe with Sera right from the start if I want to.

(For the record, I'm pretty sure the reason this happened is because the Inquisitor was originally conceived and written as a human from a noble family. Basically everything that's annoying about the Inquisitor's dialogue with Sera makes so much more sense if you look at it from that perspective, and it's also not the fault of her writer. Mark Darrah has talked about this more recently, and the Bioware team never actually wanted to have a human-only Inquisitor but had to start out that way because EA wanted the game to ship in 2013; it was a whole thing.)

Where you do get the option, it's fun to vibe with Sera. It's real fun. She has some excellent friendship content that is not unique to the romance. There's the pranks sequence, wherein Sera wants to play a few tricks on the Inquisition's advisors. I can see how this could be off-putting to some people (I don't like practical jokes in real life) but I can appreciate Sera's stated reasons for doing it: to humanize these Very Important People to their underlings and as such, to improve morale. In that way, it reminds me of the Iron Bull taking the Inquisitor to mingle with the rank and file disguised as one of them, to hear their perspectives and give names and faces to the people depending on their leader. It's also really nice for breaking up the Everything Is Super Serious tone of the Inquisition as an organization and injecting some fun into it. Again, Sera just brings an energy and perspective to the Inquisition that no one else does. Then there's the roof talk about the cookies, after which you have the option to go spend some "friendly roof time" with Sera whenever you like. For a reluctant Inquisitor, I think Sera can offer a much-needed escape from the gravity of their work, and I certainly found her becoming that for my Inquisitor Eleanor.

I find Sera's little window alcove in the tavern so charming. I also love the idea that she just claimed this space and told everyone to piss off. Maryden might have had a thing for Sera, if the song is any indication, so maybe she went to bat for her. Either way, Sera has her own little space and collection of curiosities.

The codex entry you can read nearby features a note from Quartermaster Morris questioning whether it's a good use of Inquisition resources to give her a cabinet. A cabinet. She doesn't even have a private room with a bed, but how dare she ask for one wooden bookcase for her stuff. Again, it's everyone treating Sera like a waste of space, like she doesn't deserve even one nice thing, while Skyhold's "visiting dignitaries" have their every whim catered to.

And let's talk about stuff. Let's talk about Sera's collection of things, a collection for a girl who's been reminded her whole life of all the things she doesn't deserve. A collection of the few things a girl considers important or interesting after she rejected the inheritance left her by her abusive foster mother. Parts of Sera's catalog are very funny! I will always laugh at "Goblet. Fancy cup. Cup. Shit goblet." But I also find something very touching about Sera's little collection of things, and what she writes about them, especially with a romance active, as she gradually adds things that remind her of the Inquisitor she loves. I could write pages just talking about how much I love Sera's journaling but some bits I especially love:

Silk. Bolts, not arrow-bolts. Soft! Make something!

Use silk for her! Underpants (scratched out). Tit thing (scratched out). Scarf (scratched out).

Silk is stupid. Get book to sew better. (scratched out).

Silk comes out of a worm's arse! Yuck!

That book she reads. Why's it good? Soooo long (scratched out).

Stupid book. Didn't cry.

Book. Learn Human stuff for her (scratched out). Every book is human stuff.

Sera's gift quest, "A Woman Who Wants for Nothing," is delightful and made me so glad I chose this romance. In it, Sera mentions that she got the Inquisitor a hat. Well, actually, what she says is, "Listen! I got you a hat, but it's ugly, so I drew Coryhe-whatzit's face on it, and stuffed it with apples. Everyone's hitting it with sticks! I really hope you like it!" and then runs away giggling. The Inquisitor, charmingly, takes this SUPER SERIOUSLY and decides she needs to get Sera a gift in return. She then asks everyone in the Inner Circle for gift ideas, with the responses ranging from supportive befuddlement to outright annoyance, with Solas and Vivienne both giving approval drops and Vivienne sarcastically replying, "Just shave something rude into your privates, dear. She won't get the redundancy." (If you entertain this suggestion, you get a hilarious bonus cutscene later.)

But when the Inquisitor returns to Sera to confess that she asked everyone for advice but couldn't figure out a proper gift, Sera replies, "Wait wait wait. You went to everyone and said I was your lover? Right to their faces?" She doubles over laughing before adding, "Best gift ever."

It's a funny scene, and a funny quest, but at the core of it is the fact that the best gift Sera could receive is someone who accepts her, who isn't ashamed of her—someone who's proud to claim her and love her for who she is.

Usually, the expression that a person "wants for nothing" means that they already have everything they could possibly want, but for Sera it takes on a different meaning. Sera, probably the least wealthy member of the Inner Circle, with her rejected inheritance and her little collection of things—Sera for whom the greatest gift is not another thing for her shelf, but simply acceptance.

In Trespasser, Sera has a new journal codex, "Sera's Past and Now Things" and it's even more of a delight, with such notes as "Back to the Winter Palace? Never good. Pack bees." It also features Sera's worries about the Inquisitor's mark, which is slowly killing them, with increasing distress for a romanced Sera and such heartrending bits as:

It isn't... (scratched out).

I will... (scratched out).

We have to... (scratched out).

(The book is scuffed, as though thrown against a wall. This page also has what look to be tear stains.)

I have arrows. They leave and things die.

I get to keep something.

Why don't I get to... (scratched out).

Make her happy. I will keep that she was happy.

I also found it really touching that her love being there makes the Fade okay for Sera, and helps her face something she's afraid of.

If you can look beneath the surface with Sera, I think her friendship and especially her romance is really moving, and taking the time in-game to get to know her is extremely rewarding in the end.

The Inquisitor and Sera can get married at the Winter Palace during Trespasser. Inky can wear her terrible dress uniform and Sera wears an ugly dress and shouts "That's our bells, nobbers! We frigging win!" from the balcony. It's perfect.

I love Sera, I'm so glad I really got to know her, I'm so glad I decided to play her romance. This one's a keeper.

#sera #sera dragon age #dragon age sera #dragon age inquisition #blunders of thedas

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pisscrossiant · 8 months ago

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Dragon Age: Origins characters sexuality headcanons

Alistair - Bi or Pan (could be either)

Leliana - Bisexual, Female Lean (canon)

Zevran - Bisexual, Female Lean (canon)

Morrigan - Lesbian

Sten - AroAce

Oghren - Straight (possibly bi curious?)

Wynne - Grey-Romantic

Shale - Asexual (she's a fucking golem)

I feel like they really should've made Alistair bi or pan because it just makes sense like?? There's no way that Twink is straight, even if he's never been in a relationship before it's clear that he would so fw men and women, like you can see it on HIS FACE.

Leliana and Zevran fit their canon of being bi pretty fucking well and honestly I couldn't see them having a different sexuality tbh.

Morrigan is a Lesbian. She was my gay awakening when I was 12, and honestly my P-ssy lover radar goes off when I see her. Like it goes off 24/7 when she's on screen. Also, she clearly shows a distaste for men, why they thought she'd be straight is beyond me but it's obvious she doesn't like men let alone like one enough to be in a relationship with them.

I genuinely could never see Sten dating or being married to someone, there is no way that man likes anyone in a romantic or sexual sense.

Oghren I mean he had a wife, and ofc that doesn't mean he's straight but like, the way he reacts to Zevran when he says "Oghren, if you wanted to bed me you could've just asked." Tells me that man would not be into another man, but also how he gets all flustered too kind of seems like he's bi curious not only that but that banter he had with Nathaniel in Daa were Nathaniel assumed he was into guys speaks to me in a way that says he's possibly bi.

Pretty sure Wynne had a kid if I'm not mistaken, but judging how she reacts to the Warden being in a relationship with someone I feel like she shows bitterness towards love (I haven't really got too invested with her lore so I don't know much about her past) so I feel like she'd wouldn't be Aromantic but definitely Arospec.

SHALE IS A GOLEM SHE DOESN'T EVEN HAVE THAT STUFF THERE WHY WOULD SHE HAVE SEX.

I'm probably gonna do a Da2 chars headcanons too but I haven't played the game all that much so I'm not aquatinted with all of the characters, I'm still in act 1 so I haven't gotten everyone yet.

#dragon age origins #dragon age: origins #dao #dragon age #zevran arainai #morrigan dragon age #leliana dragon age #alistair theirin #wynne dragon age #oghren dragon age #sten dragon age #shale dragon age #dao headcanons #headcanons #sexuality headcanons

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natsora · 1 year ago

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Get to Know the Fanfic Writer

Thank you for tagging me! @wickedwitchofthewilds

Tagging @crackinglamb @hardcore-like-eezo @tungstenb No obligations

When did you post your first-ever fanfic?

According to AO3, that's August 2017

First Character(s) you wrote?

That has to be Ryder. I'm sliding on and off the MEA train for a little while now.

Original character wise has to be Kiba the dog I gave Ryder. xD

Main Character(s) you’re currently writing?

For fanfic: That's a little bit of a toss up. I just got done posting my latest MEA longfic. So it will be a while before I return there. So I think Trev, my female inquisitor has to be it.

For original fiction: It's Ruo. She started as a character I used for RPs. But now she's a whole person featured in her personal crazy nightmare series.

Character(s) you haven’t written about before but plan to soon?

Hmm... Nothing planned currently.

Fandom(s) you’re currently writing?

Mass Effect, Mass Effect Andromeda, Dragon Age.

Platonic Pairing(s) you’re currently writing?

Well not currently writing them but I've written Aega my original asari dancer character and Commander Shepard

Romantic Pairing(s) you’re currently writing?

Lexington Trevelyan (my female inquisitor) and Cassandra Pentaghast. OTP. xD

Your top AO3 tags?

Angst (52)

Hurt/Comfort (52)

Whump (45)

Current platform you use for posting?

Only on AO3.

Snippet of the WIP you are currently working on?

Black and white speckles shimmered in the air. They didn’t attempt to amalgamate into a whole or serveral wholes. So far, they merely danced in the dim light like dust motes. No screaming, no staticky whispers. But Ruo remained watchful. The muted colour room that resembled the safe parts of the Inbetween was empty. She didn’t trust the room or the speckles. Circling the cloud, she realised it filled the entire space. She could even be breathing it in. As soon as the thought occured to her, something inside her throat caught. She coughed and choked. Looking at her hands, static buzzed under her skin. No longer solid, but an amorphous cloud, she couldn’t hold shape.

Ruo screamed. Only a shriek came forth.

No!

#tag meme

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owibitmylip · 2 years ago

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Certainty

Meredith centered fic posted also on AO3!

Relationships: Meredith Stannard/Original Female Character(s)

Characters: Meredith Stannard, Cullen Rutherford, Varric Tethras, Original Female Character(s), Original Male Character(s), Rylen (Dragon Age), Female Lavellan, Female Inquisitor, Minaeve (Dragon Age)

Additional Tags: Lyrium Addiction, Red Lyrium, Slight body horror, Jacked Meredith, POV Meredith, Meredith’s super fucked up perception of things, Adrastianism, Certainty the Sword

Chapter 3: The Chosen One

After her first few days, Meredith settled in to relative peace. She had her little tent which she shared with perhaps her only friend left in the world, she had a new apprentice with incredible potential, and she had a purpose. Save the world, save the Templars, train the girl. As far as purposes went, Meredith was quite pleased with hers. It was no small mission, but she thought at least, it would last a good long while. There was time before she would again have to wonder why the Maker had sent her somewhere - that is, assuming she survived once the Maker’s plan for her here was realised. The possibility that she would not survive was present in the back of her mind, but it did not unsettle her. Clearly the Maker had further use for her, and she trusted that she would go when it was her time.

Her peace did not last terribly long, though, because somebody - Varric, Meredith guessed - had informed the supposed Herald of Andrastae of her presence. The Herald had come to see her, and Meredith finally got a look at the girl. They stood outside of her small tent, and as the Herald approached, the wind whistled to an abrupt halt.

She was younger than Meredith had expected, but she supposed that fate did not always wait for a person to finish growing before pushing them into their destiny. The girl was another elf, shorter and slighter than Aeris, she looked like a stiff breeze might blow her away. Her face was adorned with a different style of Vallaslin, and a scar over her nose that reminded Meredith of Hawke. The armor she wore looked heavy enough to crush her, all fur and leather and a few small metal plates covering her joints, it was something that Meredith would never have accepted for herself, and on the girl’s back there hung a mage’s staff.

“I have a friend who thinks you might not be who you say you are, Messere,” the Herald said. Another Marcher, is she?

“And who does your friend think I am?” Meredith clasped her hands behind her back. She would have preferred to be holding her sword, but this seemed like it was already a precarious enough situation without adding her own weapon into the mix. Besides, the Herald was quite small compared to herself, and Meredith was confident that she would be the victor in a clash between them - with, or without her weapon.

“A dead woman. But, perhaps, not quite so dead as we all had thought.” So much for not being recognised as the Dread Knight Commander. She knew it would happen, she had just hoped she might have a little bit more time before the word got out. “Perhaps you were only mostly dead, instead of all dead.”

“Did your friend give you a name for me?”

“Meredith Stannard,” the Herald said, pausing briefly to look Meredith over. “Of Kirkwall.”

“At your service,” Meredith said, though she did not bow. She expected this young woman had enough people tripping over themselves to fall at her feet already.

“At my service, or at the Herald of Andrastae’s service, I wonder?” The girl hummed. “I’ve heard about you. Not everything, I’m sure, but enough. You were a very formidable warrior, everybody who has spoken to me about you has done so trembling in their boots.”

“Is that a compliment, Herald?” Meredith raised an eyebrow.

“Ellana, if you please. I am not terribly fond of being a Herald for a deity that I do not believe in.” She never answered Meredith’s question. The statement hung in the air between them, almost oppressive. Meredith had not considered that the Herald may also share some of her ire over a seemingly random elven mage being chosen by Andrastae. But Meredith was not one to question the Maker’s will, and if this girl was chosen - whether she wanted to believe it or not - Meredith would follow her.

“You did not ask for this.”

“I did not.” And so this young woman was inducted into a tradition as old as time: being fucked over by fate.

“Fate can be cruel, at times. One moment you are naught but a young girl, the next, greatness is thrust upon you.”

“I have noticed that.” Ellana paused briefly and glanced over her shoulder at where Haven stood, turning her attention away from Meredith. “Everyone is so convinced that I am sent by your Maker. He seems to ask quite a bit from people.”

“He asks only what he knows we are capable of giving. I concede that sometimes it can feel like too much, but He would not give us a task that we were not able to complete.” It was something that Meredith had truly believed for almost her entire life. Directly after her sister’s downfall, Meredith had been distraught. She had cried and begged the Maker, she had demanded why, and it had been Wentworth who had told her that she would be alright, it had been him who had assured her that the Maker had a plan for her.

Turning back to Meredith with an appraising look, Ellana asked “And what do you think he is asking of you?”

“I am here to help close the Breach. I am here to help the Templars.” She purposely left off her new found responsibility to Aeris, though it lingered in the back of her mind.

“Help the Templars?” Ellana matched Meredith’s stance and clasped her hands behind her back. “Do you have any idea what might be the matter with them? That has been something of an elusive problem ever since the Lord Seeker smacked a Chantry Sister and told us to piss off in Val Royeux.”

Meredith’s expression darkened. “Perhaps the Lord Seeker must be reminded of his place,” she growled. “Was it he who orchestrated the Templar’s retreat to Therinfal?”

“As far as we can tell,” Ellana nodded. “Though it seems your Maker only knows why. You would not happen to have any insight, Knight Comander, would you?”

After regrading the Herald briefly, her eyes drifted closed and for a moment Meredith just listened. She could hear it, wherever they were, she could hear it call to her, sing to her. It was quiet as of now, for Therinfal was some distance away, but Meredith could hear it crackling and calling and humming. It was so distinct that she felt she could see flashes of red behind her eyelids, and she wondered if this was something like the beginnings of a Warden’s Calling. The sound was ever present in some small recess of her mind, so that it had even begun to seep into her dreams. It was soft enough that she could tune it out with relative ease, but it was always there, enticing her to come seek it out.

“Therinfal,” Meredith began, eyes still closed. “It is that way.” She pointed off in the direction from which she could hear the faint song. “I have never been, though I have heard of the place. Evidently it is quite formidable.” Upon opening her eyes she perceived the skeptical look on Ellana’s face. “In Kirkwall, I used an idol made of red lyrium in my sword - Certainty was it’s name.”

“And then you got turned into a statue, yes, Varric has told me of it.”

“I believe I can still hear it - not Certainty, but the presence of red lyrium.” Although, Meredith could not rule out the sound being Certainty calling to her, and the thought sent a bizarre shiver down her spine. If it was indeed Certainty’s song, who was now wielding it? “It is a small, soft little thing in the back of my mind. Always there, never ceasing. I wonder-” She corrected herself. “I worry, that the Templars may have begun to use red lyrium. I would say to combat the mage rebellion, but they are doing fuck-all about it at the moment, so I cannot guess at their reasoning.”

Ellana regarded her silently for a few moments and took a couple steps closer. “And you believe your best shot at helping them is by joining up with us?” Meredith had the distinct sense that she was being evaluated. It was not unreasonable, she thought, to believe that the Herald had come to speak with her in order to divine whether or not she was sane and useful enough to keep around. But Meredith had already resolved that if she was told to leave, or if she was forced to run, she was going to go to Therinfal and talk some sense into the Templars - alone if she really had to. The idea may have been daunting were she a lesser woman, but there was very little that frightened Meredith. She believed beyond any shadow of a doubt that the Maker would protect her until it was her time.

“Quite so. But I believe I am supposed to help close the Breach, as well. There is more than just the Order at jeopardy here, but I cannot turn my back on them, even if they have turned their backs on the world.”

“And what if the Templars have already started using red lyrium? I suppose you would know better than anyone else here, is there a way to help them? And what effects would it have?”

“I am sorry to say that I do not know. If what happened to me is any indication, they will go mad, and then they will die. But with something so volatile as red lyrium, I expect there are many unnatural things it can do to a person.” Meredith shuddered, remembering the feeling of the crystal encasing her. At first, when she had still had her awareness, she had felt like she was being suffocated, like the Maker himself had a vise grip on her throat. And beyond that, she had felt like she was being crushed from all sides, her arms held fast and her legs unable to stand back up. The harsh crystal had felt like it was shredding her skin as it crept up her body, even though it had not left a single mark on her.

“You did not die.” No, but in those first moments where she realised what was happening, she had prayed for death. The Maker had met her halfway and let her be unaware for the bulk of her imprisonment, and for that she would be eternally grateful. Meredith could not even begin to imagine what it would have been like, awake in there, the feeling of suffocation, of being crushed never lessening, it would have been unbearable, and she would not have been able to do a single thing about it.

“I think I might have, but the Maker decided it was not my time, and allowed me this second chance, that I might try to atone for my past wrongs. Or at the least, I came extremely close, and He saw fit to spare me still.”

“So we have both escaped near certain death to be tossed into this mess.” Ellana heaved a sigh. “Some destiny this is. Well, if you are going to be staying here, then I am going to assign somebody to keep an eye on you. Just for the time being, at least until I can be sure that you are not a danger to us. You are quite unnerving to some, and I think they would feel much more at ease if somebody were watching to make sure you don’t start huffing red lyrium and try to kill all our mages.”

Meredith chuckled dryly. She was not thrilled, but she supposed it was better than being thrown out. “As you say. Who is my handler to be, then?”

“I was going to make Cullen look after you, but given the circumstances I feel that would be cruel to him. So you will get Knight Captain Rylen.”

“Of Starkhaven?”

“Do you know him?”

“Not well. I believe I only met him once, quite some time ago.” Despite her displeasure at being given a babysitter, Meredith was at least glad that it was another Templar. If she recalled correctly, this was the man she had met who had tattoos on his face. Though she may have been misremembering - red lyrium had not done her memory any favours.

“He seems decent enough, and Cullen was willing to vouch for him, so he’ll do. Come. I shall introduce you, he will be your shadow for the foreseeable future.”

“As you say,” Meredith nodded once.

Ellana turned away without another word, and Meredith followed.

She stared into the mirror, a different woman stared back. Meredith reached up, dragging a fingernail down her cheek, pulling her lower eyelid down. The other woman mimicked her movements, but Meredith knew that woman was not her - her eyes were the wrong colour. The sclera a sickly black and the irises a bright, vibrant red. They glowed, they crackled viciously. Visible underneath the woman’s skin were her veins, a similar red, also glowing, running around her face away from her eyes.

Meredith pulled her lip away from her teeth with a shaking hand. The other woman’s gums were bloody, and Maker, she could hear it. Small lines of blood staining white teeth called out to her, and Meredith ran her tongue across her teeth in an effort to silence it. The other woman did the same, but the song did not cease. Her nails came up to rake at her face, an entreaty for the other woman to give her some peace, some respite. She dug at a speck on her cheek, if it was blood responsible for the constant hum-humming, then perhaps getting rid of some of it would lessen the noise - or would it only make it louder? Would it become unbearable once it was above the skin? Meredith had to take that risk, she could not possibly go on like this, she would lose her mind. She had to keep her wits about her, for the sake of Kirkwall, for the sake of the Order, for the sake of- of- Blood ran down her cheek, dripping off her jaw onto the table. She shuddered at the sight of it, and the inclination overtook her to taste it. The song was louder now, sweeter, much more enticing. She touched the thin trail near her jaw then licked the deep, vibrant, holy liquid off the side of her hand and savoured the taste.

It made her mouth tingle, but it also made the song exponentially louder. Her head throbbed, her eyes burned, and she had the feeling on her skin like she was about to be struck by lightning.

Meredith could have sworn that she felt eyes on her as she followed Ellana through Haven and to the tavern, but whenever she glanced in any given direction nobody was looking at her. She wondered if word had spread of who she was, or even if anybody knew. Surely the events in Kirkwall had not earned her continent-wide infamy. Perhaps people were looking at her because she was a newcomer, or perhaps they were looking at her because she was following their Herald around.

The tavern was nothing special, it was about the same as almost every other tavern Meredith had ever been in. There was an overpowering smell of bad ale and so much chatter that she could barely hear herself think - which in fairness did not take much, nowadays. It seemed the red lyrium had left her mind a little less sharp, a little less formidable than it once was. She could remember the first time she had ventured into the training yard after receiving Certainty, and how the noise of her Templars sparring with each other had been enough to give her such a splitting headache that she had to close her curtains and lay down, and she felt so thoroughly addled that she could barely focus on her paperwork later in the evening. Not only because of the headache, but because she felt like she could hear whispering, something entreating her to take up the sword, even though she felt like she might be sick if she were to move.

It had distrubed her at first, the sword’s soft voice, but she had grown accustomed to it.

Ellana lead her over to a table in a mostly unoccupied corner where a man sat alone - the Knight Captain with the tattoos, Meredith remembered him better once she caught sight of his face. He was quite distinct between the ink, the scars, and the accent.

“Herald, Knight Commander,” Rylen greeted them with a brief incline of his head.

“Knight Captain Rylen,” Ellana returned the gesture. “Your new charge. Thank you for agreeing to look after her. I trust she will be on her best behaviour.” The young Herald turned and gave Meredith a look like a stern parent disciplining a naughty child. Meredith was torn between amusement and irritation.

“Of course. You have nothing to fear from me,” she said, opting to keep her expression neutral.

“I sincerely hope that is true, Knight Commander,” Ellana said. “Play nice with each other. I have mages to placate and Templars to keep from imploding, apparently. Rylen, alert Cullen or myself immediately if you suspect anything is amiss, please.��

“Of course, Herald. Don’t you worry, I’ll watch her like a hawk.” Rylen sported a lopsided grin, Meredith suppressed a groan at the word-play.

“I’m sure you will. Farewell, Messeres, behave yourselves.” Ellana gave Meredith a light pat on the shoulder, and Rylen a half-hearted wave before she left them.

“And then there were two. Knight Commander,” Rylen spoke up first, looking up at Meredith where she stood on the opposite side of the table. “Have a seat, won’t you? Care for a drink?

“Do they serve anything decent?” She pulled out the chair across from him and lowered herself into it. Her hip protested a little bit, but as she usually did when her joints bothered her, Meredith ignored it. It seemed the cold was frequently responsible for causing aches and pains, but in the frequently sweltering Kirkwall that was rarely an issue for her. Though even in it’s comparatively mild winters, she would occasionally have to take draughts made to quell the pain.

“No,” Rylen shook his head. “But I think it could be worse. So everything I know about you was told to me by people who’re scared shitless of you. If I’m to be keeping an eye on you, I think I ought to know you a bit better than whatever I can glean from rumours.”

“Well, you can add ‘prefers good alcohol’ to the things you know about me,” Meredith said, her nose wrinkling slightly against the smell of the place. “Aside from that, I was born in Kirkwall, I joined the Order when I was quite young after events I do not care to discuss. For the bulk of my life I served in Kirkwall as well, though I was briefly stationed in Ferelden. A Knight Captian was killed in the line of duty, and I was to replace him until the Knight Commander could settle on a suitable, permanent replacement. I returned to Kirkwall under circumstances I also do not care to discuss, and was given the position of Knight Captain there until the former Knight Commander was killed, at which point the Grand Cleric selected me for a promotion.”

“I heard about the old Knight Commander being hanged, I believe. Something about the treacherous Viscount?” Rylen took a swig from his tankard.

“Yes, that was Threnhold. He was dispatched shortly after Knight Commander Guylian’s death. Dumar was uninspiring, but he was a considerable improvement from Threnhold. He never tried to move against us, he never interfered with my business. I chose him specifically so the Viscount would not be someone who believed themselves important enough that they could order the Templars around.”

“Ah, your divine authority was more important than his, eh?” Rylen’s lopsided grin returned.

“Yes, because my divine authority was actually divine. I was selected by the Grand Cleric herself because she knew I would be a good Knight Commander, Dumar was chosen because I knew he would not get in my way. Not because it was his destiny, or because he would be a good Viscount.”

“Were you, though? A good Knight Commander, I mean,” Rylen asked, glancing at Meredith over the rim of the tankard. “What with the whole red lyrium, going batty, trying to annul all the mages and so on.” He was poking, seeing if she would snap so easily.

She was silent for a few moments as Rylen sipped his ale. It was yet to occur to her that she actually might not have been the Knight Commander she thought she was. Even after all she had done, she still thought herself a good Templar. And if she really was good by Chantry standards, then what did that say about the Chantry and the Order?

“I did only what I felt I had to do to protect the people of Kirkwall,” Meredith said. “My intentions were pure, regardless of whether I made the right choice or not.”

“Looking back now, do you think you made the right choices?” So this was an interrogation then. She wasn’t exactly surprised, it was sensible that the Herald would want to have the clearest picture possible of her mental state, and that that picture came from somebody that the Inquisition could trust. Byron could vouch for her until his throat went raw, but that would mean almost nothing if the Herald and her advisors didn’t trust him.

“No,” she softly shook her head. “I did not. The Right of Annulment was not necessary. And I should never have used red lyrium.”

“I’m very glad that you can acknowledge that. Good step towards proving you’re sane enough to keep around, that you know what you did was wrong.” Rylen downed the rest of the dark liquid in the tankard and set it on the table. “Come on, I’m guessing you haven’t seen much of the place yet? I’ll show you around so you don’t get yourself lost.”

Both of them rose from their seats. Meredith was only a hair shorter than Rylen, and her shoulders were almost as broad. She followed him out of the tavern and around the small plot of land that was Haven, listening as he chattered on about whatever struck his fancy. She thought he might get annoying after a while, but all things considered, she could be in a much worse position. So she resolved to play nice with Rylen, and with the Herald. She was grateful that she had thus far been allowed to stay, and she hoped that Ellana wouldn’t change her mind. As Rylen showed her around the little hamlet, Meredith thought she might be starting to like the place.

“We all have our purposes,” Valeria had told her. “We are all here for a reason. It is up to the Maker to reveal that reason to us, when and if He sees fit. Your purpose will be revealed to you in time, young one, of that I am sure.”

Not long after Valeria said that to her did the mage die, and shortly after that Meredith recieved word that she must return to Kirkwall as soon as possible. Wentworth was unwell, and Guylian wanted to name her Knight Captain. Meredith had jumped at the chance, though she had left some small part of herself in Ferelden. A piece with Valeria, and a piece in the charred remains of the village where her mage had perished.

Later that night, once Rylen had departed to get some sleep, Meredith met Aeris by the stables. The girl wore a heavier tunic with a belt tightly sinched at her waist, and held her own two daggers, and a practise swords that she’d borrowed. They walked in silence out past the field where Cullen spent his days shouting at recruits in a way that made Meredith proud, up the small incline, past the abandoned cabin. Aeris had tasked herself with finding a secluded spot to train, given Meredith did not have the free reign of the area that she had wanted. She had settled on a small clearing near enough to the old cabin that she was confident they would not get lost in the night, but far enough that the sound of sparring would likely not reach anybody back in Haven.

“Will this work?” Aeris asked, offering the practise sword to Meredith. It was a one-handed blade, but Meredith could make do. The hilt was comfortable enough, and the blade was made of chipped, dulled metal. It was far too light for her tastes, but for the time being it would be fine.

“It will,” Meredith said. “Alright, girl, show me what you know.” She dropped into a fighting stance, gripping her sword with one hand, the other positioned with her palm against the pommel. This might be a much lighter and smaller sword than she was used to, but Meredith expected she could wield it similarly, if a lot faster.

And she would need the speed, too, she soon discovered, because Aeris was fast. She danced around Meredith, jumping in and out of her range with ease. The girl was a whirlwind, and Meredith was somewhat out of practise - being encased in corrupted lyrium for Maker knows how long will do that to you - though she was still able to keep up well enough and repel the bulk of Aeris’s attacks. The daggers occasionally swiped at her, leaving light scratches on Meredith’s gambeson. Nothing that would have been fatal, she noted. At last Meredith was satisfied with what she had seen, and took the next opening that Aeris gave her. Meredith twisted out of the way of a dagger and turned back, bringing the sword around and striking Aeris’ side with the flat of the blade.

“And you’re dead,” she said, taking a step back and withdrawing the sword. Aeris stumbled a little, breathing hard. She looked up at Meredith. “You have talent, and you have incredible potential. But you are too focused on your speed and not your accuracy. You need to find a balance.” Meredith planted the tip of the sword down into the snow and rested her hands on the pommel. “You are leaving yourself open too much, too. Fighting with daggers does mean you will have to take some risks that, say, I would not with a sword, but you need to guard yourself better. You will come up against people that are much faster than I am, who will take advantage of carelessness.”

Aeris frowned, but did not argue. “So how shall I improve, then?”

“With practise, there is no other way. I can stand here and tell you all about swordplay for hours, it will mean absolutely nothing if you cannot put it into practise. First I think we will work on blocking. You will be tracking your enemy’s movements, and when you only have daggers to work with, it takes much more hand-eye coordination than a shield does. You can hide behind a shield, you cannot hide behind a little knife.”

“Alright,” Aeris nodded, straightening up and stretching her arms. She did not yet drop back into a fighting stance. “Meredith, I was wondering..”

“Hm?” Meredith took her sword back up as well, but did not level it against Aeris yet.

“Well, you’re a Templar aren’t you?”

“I was one, yes. Some time ago.”

“And Templars have those powers that counteract magic, right?”

Meredith raised an eyebrow. “Yes, but we are not born with them. We must take lyrium to use them.”

“Could you teach those to me too? I’ll take lyrium if I need to, I just- Well, if I ever find that bastard, you know, and he tries to use a spell on me… Knives won’t do much about magic, will they?”

Meredith was quiet for a long time, her gaze fell to her sword, and then to her free hand. She would not make this girl into a Templar, not when she herself was living proof of what can happen when you give a hurt and angry little girl a sword and some lyrium and tell her that her hatred is righteous. Not to mention the withdrawals.. Meredith had been fortunate enough in her life that she had never gone without enough lyrium, but there had been a few times when she’d felt that itch. Her skin had burned and her throat had gone dry, her joints had hurt, her head had throbbed, and she had felt like she would die if she didn’t get more. She was young, then, and she had still had Wentworth to keep her on her feet.

That pain was not something that Meredith would willingly give unto this girl. Lyrium was a heavy burden, so heavy that Meredith had seen it crush several people. Samson came to mind for a moment, and she remembered the way he had begged her not to throw him out, or to at least give him a good supply of lyrium as a going away gift. He’d told her he couldn’t live without it, that he would die and it would be on her shoulders - that hadn’t bothered her at the time. She remembered the reports she’d heard from her patrols that Samson had been seen begging in the streets for just a little bit of dust, or coin enough to buy some.

The mental image of Aeris, dirty and emaciated and desperate, imploring strangers on the streets of whatever city she found herself in for just a little bit of dust struck Meredith like a blow.

“No,” Meredith finally replied, shaking her head. “You do not understand the burden we bear in exchange for those powers, and it is not something I can in good conscience put upon you.”

“I can handle it, really! If I can’t fight magic how am I supposed to fight a mage?” The girl implored, desperation and frustration inching into her tone.

“There are other ways. It does not always take a Templar to put down a blood mage. There are times when regular people have taken them down without our help,” Meredith said, and for a brief, unpleasant moment Meredith thought she could again feel the heat of the fire on her face, she could hear the shouting of the townsfolk, the bellowing call of the mage as she threw spell after spell at her attackers. It was the one time when Meredith had stood frozen, unable to do her duty and unable to act against it as well. She closed her eyes for a moment, gave her head a slight shake, and the sound, the heat vanished. It was replaced with the ever present soft humming of red lyrium in the distance, which Meredith greatly preferred.

“But what if it doesn’t work? I don’t want to- I’ll not meet the same fate as my brothers.” The girl was resolute, and Meredith respected it. But she truly did not understand what lyrium could do to a person.

“You will not, because you will be prepared. There are other tools you can use, grenades, poison tipped arrows, plenty of things that would disorient or incapacitate a mage that you do not need to take lyrium to use.” The knowledge that if this girl had come into her life a few years ago, Meredith would have readily offered her lyrium so long as she would take the vows did not sit lightly on her shoulders.

Aeris sighed, frowning and looking down at the snow by Meredith’s boots. “Fine, then.”

Meredith felt a pang of guilt, but she knew it would be far worse if she agreed to give the girl lyrium. “You will perform just fine without a Templar’s abilities, I have faith in you. Now, come on. Daggers up, you are learning how to block.”

“You will not be able to rely on anything but yourself. Even a sword can break, so you must be unbreakable. You must trust in the gifts the Maker has given you, you must trust in what we have taught you.” Valeria had told her this right after smacking her in the head with the flat of a heavy sword. Meredith had barely heard her, her ears were ringing so loudly. “The only things you can count on are the Maker and yourself. Not your sword, not your armor, not any of your compatriots. All of those things can, and will, let you down. Magic will not wait for you to fix a broken blade or cracked armor, nor will it wait for you to pick up your fallen friends.”

Aeris departed after another hour or so of practise, sporting several new bruises and saying she had to rise early for her work. Meredith nodded, turned over the practise sword, and lingered in the clearing for a little while longer. It was peaceful, and she was grateful for a little bit of silence. Haven was always bustling now, and with so many people packed so tightly together, there was no such thing as privacy or solitude, not really. And of course, she had her dear tent-mate. She did not mind having Byron close by, but he and silence did not go together. Even in the night, when she laid awake, he had a tendency to mumble in his sleep.

It usually didn’t disturb her that much; it gave her something to listen to while she laid awake at night. Her sleep had often been plagued by nightmares long before she got ahold of that idol, and long before Certainty was forged. The influence of the red lyrium had done her no favours, it had just made her nightmares much, much stranger, and much, much more vivid. After she got ahold of Certainty, Meredith had woken up most nights not knowing where she was, terrified that Kirkwall had been consumed by red lyrium and totally convinced that all her Knights were dead. After a night like that she would be particularly crabby the next morning, both from the exhaustion and the lingering discomfort instilled in her by the dreams. As her hard nights multiplied, Meredith’s temper had grown shorter, her paranoia had grown more intense, and her conviction that there was something horrible on the horizon had grown firmer.

Her changing temperament had not been something anyone in the Gallows was brave enough to speak to her about.

Since she had gotten out of her lyrium prison, her dreams had slowly begun to return. She had woken both herself and Byron up a couple of times because she had gotten more restless, and according to him, she had apparently started to mutter in her sleep as well. Perhaps once the Herald was satisfied that she was not a danger to the Inquisiton, they might let her take up residence in the little abandoned cabin, so that her nights might be a little more peaceful and so she would not risk disturbing anyone were she to have a nightmare. She paused a moment to examine the cabin as she passed it, and decided it would do quite nicely, so long as it was actually vacant.

She continued up along the path and back towards Haven. It was a pleasant stroll, if a little short. There was not very much area around Haven that she felt comfortable venturing into in the dark of night with no weapon about her. No telling what sorts of wildlife she might encounter.

As she rounded the bend and began to come down the incline, she stopped in her tracks at the sound of footsteps coming up the road towards her. She’d been looking down to make sure that she didn’t trip.

“...Knight Commander,” a familiar, startled voice greeted her, somewhat shakily.

“Commander,” she looked up and inclined her head to him. “It is only Meredith, now.”

“Meredith, then,” Cullen said. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, clearly uneasy, and Meredith thought she could probably cut the tension in the air with a sword.

“I am pleased to see that you made it out of Kirkwall alive,” Meredith offered, and it really was true. She had no ill will towards him, if anything she was glad that he had come to his senses in time, so that Hawke did not turn his staff on Cullen, too.

“Thank you. I… I must admit I am… Maker,” he muttered, a gloved hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “I am surprised to see you. I- we all thought you were dead.” Cullen kept his distance from her, staying near the bottom of the little hill, closer to the tents where some of his soldiers were sleeping. They would hear him if he yelled, both of them knew that.

“I think I might have been, but the Maker saw fit to give me another chance.” Meredith didn’t try to get any closer. His discomfort was obvious enough, but she supposed that they both knew this conversation would have to happen at some point. If the Herald was going to let her stay, then Meredith was going to be a soldier. As a soldier, she would likely have to deal with the Commander of the Inquisition’s forces.

“What do you mean to do with it?” Cullen asked, hands twitching idly at his sides like he wasn’t sure what to do with them.

“Help close the Breach. And I aim to learn what the Templars are doing, hiding away when they are needed.” Save them from their own hubris, probably.

“I have been wondering about that, as well.” He began to fidget with one of this sleeves, and glanced briefly back at the tents behind him. “The Herald told us that you have a suspicion.”

“Yes, I do,” Meredith confirmed with a curt nod of her head.

“Red lyrium, she said.”

“That is my fear.” She paused a moment, glancing off into the distance, over Cullen’s shoulder in the direction where many miles away, the Templars had gathered in their secluded fortress. “I can… I believe I can hear it, still. It’s quiet, but it’s there.”

“Do you.. Is there anything that we can do, do you think? To save them?” Anxiety edged into his voice, and she suspected this was something that had been weighing on him as well.

“I do not yet know, but I intend to try. Even if I have to go to Therinfal myself and talk some sense into them.” Which was the mildest way to say that Meredith intended to ride out to Therinfal and beat some sense into Lord Seeker Lucius with her bare hands if she had to. “Even if the Inquisition turns it’s back on the Order, I could not.”

“Nor could I.”

Silence hung between them for a moment or two, Cullen to nervous to say whatever was on his mind, and Meredith trying to string the words together in her head before saying any of them aloud.

“If you would permit me,” Meredith began. Cullen turned his gaze from the gravel of the road up to her face again. “I know I did you no favours in Kirkwall. I would…” Maker, she was never awfully good with words. “I would like to apologize. You deserved better than that.”

Cullen stared at her for another moment or two, wide eyes and dumbfounded expression. Meredith supposed she would be quite shocked too, were she in his shoes.

“Well, I- that is- Maker. That is.. Kind of you, thank you, Knight Comman- Meredith.” He paused a moment to gather himself, deciding that trying to play nice would be the best course of action if Meredith was going to be around. Besides, if she really had her wits about her again, she might prove useful. “Provided you continue to be.. Sane and reasonable, and you stay with us, perhaps you would not mind helping to train some of the recruits? I could use someone help who knows how to hold a sword.”

“Provided I remain sane and reasonable, I would be glad to assist. I do not care to stand around while everybody else does the work.” She was beginning to feel antsy already, and she intended to ask Rylen if there were any tasks around Haven she might be permitted to help with. Even if she wound up baking bread or repairing swords, she would be glad to have something.

“I trust Rylen or the Herald will inform me when they deem you fit for duty. We shall discuss it further then.” Cullen glanced upwards at the night sky, illuminated by the stars and by the glowing green hole.

“I shall leave you to enjoy your night, Commander,” Meredith said, taking a few steps to the side. She thought it courteous to give Cullen a wide berth. Especially if they were to be working together in the future, she didn’t want to set him on edge. Though she knew that was something that would take time, and probably a lot of it.

“Of course. Goodnight, Kn- Meredith.” It would also take a lot of time for him to adjust to calling her Meredith to her face.

“Goodnight Commander.” With an incline of her head, Meredith passed by him and carried on to her tent. She didn’t look back over her shoulder, but eventually she heard his footsteps begin to carry on up the little hill.

Byron was already out cold when she reached their shared tent. She quietly removed her boots and gambeson before, carefully as she could, crawling into her space by the other wall. It was evident to her that she would not be able to sleep for some time yet, but she thought she might at least close her eyes and rest. It would do no good for her to be exhausted come the morning, when she would habitually rise before the sun.

The man - no, the boy - stood in front of Meredith. His posture rigid, his expression set, his eyes distant. He had not even reached his twentieth year, but he already had the look of a man at least twice, maybe three times his age. He was the first one that Meredith had seen a small part of herself in. She recognized that pain, she felt that she understood it. Meredith decided as soon as she met the boy that she would keep him close by, because she expected that just like herself, this boy could take his pain and use it to become something great.

#knight commander meredith #meredith stannard #dragon age 2 #dragon age inquisition

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automaticdata · 2 months ago

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I started rereading on of my favorite HTTYD fics from back when I was in the fandom, and while reading it's been fun, it's also just. Reminded me of how frustrating the HTTYD fandom was. And since I'm sick and thus my brain is foggy, what better time to rant about it?

Seriously, at one point the rampant Heather hate had me like. Analyzing fan reaction to female characters just to figure out wtf was going on. Like, the spinoff shows sucked in a lot of ways (RTTE especially), but I would argue that Heather was one of the good things that came from them. But no, according to the fandom, she's evil and/or a Mary Sue and/or [insert other criticism here].

Which ... can I just say, those attempts to analyze fan-behavior toward female characters made me very cynical towards most depictions of female characters in media. One of the conclusions I came to, iirc, was that media underrepresents female characters so often that in certain circumstances, an additional female character is seen as a threat to other female characters' screentime. It also made me accutely aware of how more often than not, a piece of media will only have two female characters, and those two female characters will be polar opposites, even if they're best friends. Animorphs did it with Rachel and Cassie, who are best friends despite having nothing in common. ASoIaF did it with Arya and Sansa. (I actually tried to explain to a friend of mine who was an ASoIaF fan why the relationship between Arya and Sansa annoyed me and kind of failed, and I think this is part of it - I have seen this "two completely opposite female character" trope so many times that it's gotten annoying af.) Harry Potter sort of did it, with the three most major female characters each having a kind of trope associated with them which would put them in different social circles: the bookworm/nerd (Hermione), the jock/cool kid (Ginny), the weirdo/outcast (Luna). Like, female characters just .... aren't allowed to be similar, They aren't allowed to be in the same social circles, or have the same interests. And that's weird as fuck.

I seem to recall some serious negativity toward Valka, too, because how dare she abandon her family - never mind that she was only twenty at the time, the same age Hiccup was when he's running off because he finds the possibility of being chief. And her husband was ten years older, iirc, which never seemed to come up as a "wait what" point in the discussion.

As I've gotten further away from the fandom, I've started liking the storyline of HTTYD2 less, and think Valka's role in it is kind of weird, but that's from the perspective of it in terms of storytelling/theme/etc. If we're operating from inside the story and looking at Valka's actions, while they aren't great, they're not horrible either. She was just as isolated as Hiccup was, possibly even moreso, and despite being a pacifist she got married to the best dragon-fighter in the entire village, who was ten years older than her. She had a baby before she was old enough to legally drink in modern America.

If we accept that Hiccup, at fifteen, felt so out of place that he wanted to run away, why don't we accept that when Valka was carried off, it was reasonable for her to assume she shouldn't go back? Just because she had a child? A child that had an older, arguably more responsible, more respected adult still available as his other parent? The impression that I had with Valka is that she stayed away because she literally thought that was best for everyone, including Hiccup. She'd finally found a place where she felt like she could be herself, and it wasn't in Berk. I don't fault her for that (nor would I fault Hiccup and Stoick if they were mad that she left, which they weren't).

You also had people being saying things like "when you're young, you sympathize with Hiccup, when you become an adult you sympathize more with Stoick." Which, um. No. I'm in my mid-thirties now, I just rewatched the first movie because the fic got me feeling nostalgic, and I still don't think Stoick was in the right. Sympathetic? Sure. But the dude crosses some serious lines, and for all he says Hiccup never listens, the worst non-listener in the entire franchise is him.

I mean, let's just take a moment to review, shall we? Your son, who last night was talking about how he's a born dragon-killer, comes home from who knows where and you tell him, "You get your wish. Dragon training. You start in the morning." Your son then tries to say that no, he doesn't want to fight dragons. He says he won't, he says he can't. Instead of thinking this is weird, you ... I guess assume he's joking? And you press on. Your son says stuff like "Can you not hear me?" and "this conversation is feeling very one-sided," but you press on. And all this when you know from the beginning of the conversation that there's something he wants to tell you.

Stoick also just. Flat out ignores warning signs when it comes to Hiccup, and more specifically how isolated Hiccup is in the village. He literally uses "looking after Hiccup" as a threat. When he gets back from a journey and everyone is telling him "everyone is so relieved" "the village is thinking about having a party to celebrate" etc., he's like, "wait, Hiccup's gone?" without making the connection that if that's people's reaction to Hiccup being gone, something is deeply fucked up.

Then, when Hiccup is in the ring with the Nightmare, it's Stoick banging on the bars of the arena which startles the Nightmare into attacking. He knows dragons are sensitive to noise, but in that moment he was too angry to care, and Hiccup nearly dies because of it. Afterwards he says Hiccup was the one who put everyone in danger, which is patently false. Hiccup didn't antagonize the Nightmare, and Hiccup didn't summon the Night Fury. Stoick antagonized Hookfang and Toothless came to the arena because he heard Hiccup scream. Toothless saved Hiccup's life.

During the discussion that follows, Stoick engages in some of the worst listening of the entire franchise. Hiccup is literally telling Stoick a ton of useful information, but Stoick only processes the information which allows him to find the nest. When Hiccup tries to tell him it's more dangerous than he knows, he ignores him, and when Hiccup grabs his arm and begs him, "for once in your life, would you just listen to me!" he literally pushes him away and disowns him.

So yeah, no. The older I get the more I see how Stoick failed in his responsibilities as a parent, even if I can see why it happened and can sympathize with him. Between Hiccup and Stoick, Stoick is the adult and the parent, and I expect him to act as such.

Don't get me wrong. I think the relationship between Hiccup and Stoick is one of the most compelling in the series. They illustrate the disconnect between them very well, and actually find a way to bring it to a satisfying conclusion. That said, that conclusion does not actually involve them meeting in the middle; it involves Stoick admitting he was wrong, and even getting a taste of what could have happened to Hiccup because of his actions.

There's also this like. Weird relationship the fandom had to the books, which. To be fair, the movies/show also had a weird relationship to the books. I read the books after seeing .... I think the first two movies? Definitely the first, at least. And while the books are cool in their own way, they very much are a different thing than the movies. The first movie is kind of a homage to the books more than an adaptation, and the second movie goes completely off the rails from anything remotely resembling the books. Yet, aspects of the books show up in the fanfic, and also in the early parts of the RoB show. The movie creators were determined to leave the movies where the books left off, even though they didn't start where the books started. (This btw was my first reason for not watching the third movie - the promotional materials making it look extremely silly only strengthened that conviction).

One of the things that I remember people complaining about was that they added Heather but not Camicazi, for example. And I just ... guys. Cami is already in the series. She's Astrid. The kick-ass girl with all the skills of a "proper" Viking, given a less anachronistic/appropriative name, and put in a context that worked with the movies only focusing on one Viking tribe. The differences Cami and Astrid have are because the differences in the books' Viking culture and the movies' Viking culture - the books put stuff like piracy and being sneaky among "proper" Viking skills, while the movies make "proper" Vikings more of the traditional straightforward warrior.

Like, if you're going to argue Cami and Astrid are different characters, I'm going to argue that book!Fishlegs and movie!Fishlegs are different characters. The movies do weird stuff moving certain aspects around and naming some things after book stuff which has nothing to do with the book counterpart. Book!Fishlegs and book!Hiccup merge together to create movie!Hiccup, movie!Fishlegs has literally nothing in common with book!Fishlegs besides his name, movie!Hookfang belongs to Snotlout instead of Stoick, movie!Toothless is a Night Fury instead of a Seadragonus Giganticus Maximus, the Green Death is now the Red Death, Alvin the Treacherous is basically completely different from book to show, etc. Like I said, the books and the movies have a very weird relationship.

aaaand I have run out of steam. :thumbsup: TLDR version, HTTYD fandom is weird, or at least it was when I was in it.

#long post #data rambles #data rants #I am sick and so my brain is doing weird stuff #pls excuse the random ramble #data watches httyd #using the old tag because I don't want this showing up in httyd fans' feeds

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