#varric pov

[l8rose]

Smith From Another Land

Chapter 76

Bad.

Incredibly bad.

That was how Varric would describe everything since they stepped into the incredibly blue caverns.

He had made a life out of being observant. Often using what he noticed in his stories. And he had been paying extra attention to Ara as they had begun their descent. Especially since he had seen that shimmering whatever around her.

The further they went, the worse her mood seemed to get.

That sense of dread he had felt earlier was quickly hitting like a runaway bronto.

He realized that he had been right when he thought she sounded irritated.

Every little thing seemed to be getting on her nerves as they walked.

He could see it with how she tensed when someone said something. The way she glowered at the others when they spoke. Even the way she was gripping her weapon was a clear sign that something was bothering her.

The final hint had been when she actually flinched when he put his hand on her arm.

Especially when she turned to him with her teeth bared.

“Ara?” He removed his hand quickly but still could not keep the concern out of his voice. Especially when he saw the strange look in her eyes.

He could have sworn that there was the faintest edge of purple around the edges of her eyes. She blinked and the purple disappeared.

Only for it to be replaced by a strange glow that sent a chill down his spine.

“Sorry. Just… Sorry.” She muttered before shoving off the stones she had been leaning on. “Need… need go…”

“Ara? Is there something wrong?” Ellana asked as she turned away from Valta to look at their green Orcish friend.

Before anyone could stop her, she had pushed past the rest of them and down the walkway. She did not even grunt in Ellana’s direction before she jumped out of their view to a lower level.

“Is she always like that?” Renn’s voice rung out behind him, but Varric ignored him.

Instead, he looked over at Solas who was staring after Ara with a somber look. The elf looked back at him, and Varric had a sneaking suspicion about what had just happened.

This is definitely not good.

“She ignored me.” Ellana’s voice was quiet. “She jus-“

The sounds of battle and strange metallic screams suddenly echoed from the direction Ara had stomped off in. The sound sent another chill down Varric’s spine.

Ellana gasped before practically running for the ladder.

“Inquisitor!” Solas called after her. “It might be wi-“

“No! Ara just ran off on her own!” Ellana shouted back before he could finish. “She could be hurt or…”

“I don’t think it’s Ara we need to worry about.” Varric said.

“How can you say that?” Ellana said, her tone full of reproach.

“Just… you know how Ara is.” Varric said. The words sounded terrible to him, but he knew he should not tell Ellana that he suspected Ara had just jumped off the deep end.

“Perhaps we can discuss this once we are closer to your friend?” Renn’s voice was cautious.

That spurred Ellana to move even faster, and Varric watched as she slipped down that ladder. They all followed, one by one, until only Varric and Solas were left above.

“This does not bode well.” Solas said softly as he stood at the top of the ladder.

“I know.” Varric mumbled in response. “We shouldn’t have taken Ara down here.”

Solas said nothing as he went down the ladder.

Sighing, Varric followed after, and it quickly became a race down the walkway to try and catch up with Ara. He could hear the sounds of battles and the strange rasping screams of the sha-brytol.

His suspicions, and horror, were confirmed as they all came into view of the first group of sha-brytol Ara had encountered.

He had seen a lot over his long life. From Fenris ripping out hearts to mages twisting into abominations. Yet, there had never been anything like what he saw now. For once, he was at a loss for words and the only thing he could think was carnage.

Instantly, Varric thought of their first trip to the Waking Sea. When they had watched Ara wade into their enemies and practically mowed them all down. How she had laughed in what had almost seemed like madness at the time.

It was like the same thing had happened here, only that she had burst the sha-brytol apart with each swing of her maul. They were little more than pieces of pulverized armor and squished ancient dwarf.

“Oh, by the creators…” Ellana said with a gasp, covering her mouth at the sight.

“Damn.” Renn managed with a tone somewhere closer to respect than to horror.

Varric briefly considered that the Legionnaire must have been desensitized by all his time in the Deep Roads but that quickly became a thought for another time.

“We should hurry.” Valta said as she motioned to the direction Ara had gone. “She’s heading for the altar.”

It’s not like she can go anywhere else.

The thought popped in his head quicker than it took to breathe but it made sense to him. There was only one path to follow and even if there were corners to run around, he guessed all roads led to that glowing stone.

“Then let’s get there.” Renn spoke.

Ellana said nothing, only gripped her staff tighter and ran down the walkway. No one said anything else as they went.

Even as they found another one of those word walls, Ellana barely gave it a second glance before ushering Valta along.

The mood was grim as they met little to no resistance as they ran. One or two sha-brytol met them on the way but it was like they were fleeing Ara as opposed to coming to fight them. It was impossible to tell if that was what was actually happening, but Varric felt almost certain that she was the cause for their flight.

They finally caught sight of Ara once they rounded the last tower.

She stood amidst the sha-brytol and he was reminded just how big she actually was. It was another thing that he had forgotten as they travelled together. That Ara was nearly twice his height with the musculature to back it up.

That war maul in her hands looked like a simple hammer.

One that she was using to cave in the armor of the final sha-brytol who ran at her.

“Ara!” Ellana’s voice was an almost shrill yell as she ran towards their companion.

“Stop!” Varric suddenly called out in panic, reaching for Ellana but Solas was the faster of the two of them.

The other man managed to grab Ellana’s arm and kept her from moving any closer to Ara.

Ara, for her part, did not seem to notice them and was focused on slamming that maul into the sha-brytol far more times than needed.

“What are you doing?!” Ellana demanded, her angry gaze focusing on Solas.

“I believe she has gone berserk.” Solas said it quickly with a face that was completely neutral.

“Berserk?” Ellana asked with a frown. “Ara has ne-“

“When we met Bull, she said something about a blood rage.” Varric quickly answered. “I don’t know if she can tell friend from foe, but she said she doesn’t feel pain.”

I should have said something. I should have made her go back to the surface.

He felt a sense of guilt as he knew that whatever had been bothering her had finally reached a tipping point.

Guilt he knew Ellana felt as well. Her face gave everything away and she went completely silent. Just staring at their friend who was turning the sha-brytol into paste.

“Is that like some kind of reaver?” Renn asked.

Varric could say nothing because that had been his first reaction as well.

“Yes.” Solas answered before letting go of Ellana’s arm. “I do not think it is wise for us to go near her until she calms down.”

“I don’t think we have much of a choice.” Valta said. “We need to get to that platform and she’s in the way.”

Varric thought the point was moot as Ara had turned away from them and started advancing for the platform Valta mentioned. There was going to be no getting between her and that altar and Maker help any of the remaining sha-brytol who tried to get in her way.

“Then we try to stop her before she does anything else.” Ellana said firmly with all the tone of the Inquisitor. “Try not to hurt her.”

“As you command, Inquisitor.” Solas said with a nod.

Varric only nodded as he was not looking forward to the idea of trying to fight against Ara.

In the end, it did not matter. She had looked in their direction when they approached, and Varric instantly felt like he was being looked at like a piece of meat. Those eyes still held that unnatural glow, but it was as if her personality was completely gone. That it was only a predator staring back at him.

She was clearly sizing them up before she turned away. The expression on her face was clear that they were not even perceived as a threat.

“Ara! Stop!” Ellana yelled out but it seemed to reach deaf ears.

Ara began to run but then things went even worse.

It seemed like time seemed to slow as Ara swung that maul at the giant blue stone. Only for it to react like it was defending itself.

Like it was alive.

It was like a magical shockwave that struck out against Ara. Whatever had her slipping into such a rage simply vanished as she was thrown through the air like a doll.

“Andraste’s tits!” Varric shouted and took a half step towards her. He only stopped as he realized there was nothing he could do to prevent her from being flung through the air. It was not like he could actually catch her.

“Ara!” Ellana’s shout was full of concern and panic.

That blast continued past where Ara stood and slammed into the group as well.

Varric felt it hit him but strangely enough, it was like a breeze compared to Ara being thrown through the air. The sound of two thuds behind him had him turning to look at where Valta and Renn had also been thrown.

It took a brief second before he realized that the magic force had clearly chosen to knock those two down.

Should I be insulted?

It was the only thought he managed when a wall of rocks rose, separating them from the other two dwarves. Instinct had him turning towards the center of the altar.

That is not good.

“She’s fine.” Solas quickly said as both he and Ellana crouched near Ara.

“I… think that’s the least of our worries.” Varric mumbled as he watched the rocks by his feet roll along towards the blue stone.

They all watched as the stone changed into something more like a rock wraith. Only with tendrils spread out from it that twisted in the air.

Varric quickly pointed Bianca in its direction as both Solas and Ellana moved to intercept the thing as well.

That was when Ara stood up.

Varric jerked his head towards her and knew something was off.

Her shoulders were hunched, and her body leaned forward a little too much. Then there was the maul that she slowly picked up. That glow was still in her eyes but there was a strange, almost dazed look. Like she was asleep on her feet.

She did not drop into a fighting stance as he expected but it was like her body swayed back and forth before she suddenly dashed forward. Ara did not make a sound. She did not yell or growl as she started to swing the maul at the nearest part of the blue rock wraith.

“Ara?!” Ellana’s voice did not seem to reach her either.

Or Ara just ignored the elf to focus on fighting. He truly hoped it was the former even if her body moved in a strangely jerky way.

Even if his gut was telling him that this was bad. Very, very bad.

[revvethasmythh]

So I went and watched all the possible endings, and it confirmed something I had been thinking, which is that the redemption ending choice is, perhaps, the most immediately regretful one--but that they all come with some form of regret. In the redemption ending, Rook has to knowingly deny themselves the catharsis of retribution (should they desire it, which, at least for me it felt difficult not to) in order to offer Solas one last, painful chance to do the right thing. That willful denial of your own catharsis feels like an immediate regret. Giving Solas the opportunity to pursue atonement might very well be the best choice all around, but it is also incredibly painful to offer that to someone who has done so many terrible things (not a small amount to you personally). Why does he deserve another chance? Especially when so many dead (including a beloved mentor) lie in his wake? Which, I suppose, is the point: he doesn't. But you offer it anyway and it SUCKS ASS, because how could it not?

I don't know how this plays with other story choices (a sacrificed Davrin or a Harding who embraced her anger, for example), but within the context of my own choices, I can imagine an immediate satisfaction to either tricking or fighting him--especially the trick ending, where you can actively name drop Varric--but it feels like the sort of thing that would feel worse as more time passes. Once you've calmed down and are able to ask yourself if that's what the people you've lost really wanted. Varric, in Regret Superhell, didn't want vengeance. He just wanted his friend to walk a better path. And Harding always believed there was another chance for anyone, so long as you kept reaching a hand out for them--even when it sucked ass. So the redemption ending feels like a sort of indignance, an instant regret for not doing worse, for not getting comeuppance, for being forced to eschew satisfaction (related: I wonder if the Inquisitor feels those things as well coming out of this ending, considering how long they've lived under the shadow of Solas' actions). Conversely, the other two endings feel like an immediate satisfaction, because you got to trick the trickster with all the wits Varric taught you, or because you finally got to punch him in the face and it felt really good. But I feel like those endings would come with a creeping regret, something that sneaks up on you later, especially when remembering the fallen and what they would have wanted you to do. Ultimately, because of that, it feels like no ending is devoid of regret. Which I suppose, is rather thematic.

[pickleforstony]

"Welcome home, Hawke."

[thelavellans]

Can’t believe da4 is coming out this year that feels almost hard to believe because we have waited SO long but I am excited to see the gameplay video that’s dropping on the 11th!

[teamdilf]

"They were close. Real close. For all his deception, he wasn’t faking the love and Firefly took it badly when he ended things - and so did he, but he was subtler about it. Not the yelling sort like her; she picked fights with him because it was easier to be mad at him than it was to mourn the end of a relationship that was important to the both of them. No, he moped all over the place - more than he usually did, which is saying something because Chuckles wore melancholy like it was sewn into his skin."

_

After Rook disrupts Solas' ritual, freeing two of the Evanuris, Varric and Rook need to give Iris the news that Solas is in grave danger.

Every man has his limits. He ran up against his own today, but even an immortal god has his limits and after a brief but violent light show fails to go his way, Solas kicks and scrapes his feet against the stone of the platform, trying and failing to get purchase as the two eldritch horrors drag him by the arms off into the Fade. The heel of his boot hits the hilt of his dagger, sending it towards Rook, who dives to grab it. Solas meets the woman’s eyes briefly and then shifts over to him, gaze as piercing as anyone has ever looked at him, like he’s burrowed into his skin to glimpse at his soul. “Protect her.”

Not Rook. The man has no reason to care for the woman who stumbled ass over tea kettle into a pillar, destroying his life’s work and apparently freeing two of the false gods he’d sacrificed so much to imprison.

Iris Lavellan. Firefly. She’s in Minrathous but across town and with the lockdowns, had been unable to join him. She’d made the attempt, but ran up against resistance from the Watch, to his understanding and it was Dorian who’d pleaded with her to return to his house, where she’s lived as his roommate these last nine years, instead of slaughtering her way through the city guard in an attempt to talk down her fool of an ex-boyfriend.

Over the sending stone sitting in his pocket, he promised her he’d do his best to talk him down. Now, as Solas and the mysterious figures disappear from view, he realizes he hasn’t failed one friend today; he’s failed two.

Harding’s face is black and blue, her lip split, with a cut on her hairline seeping blood down the right side of her face, and he hands her a cloth and a healing potion. Rook holds the dagger in her hand, turning it over, and staring at it, mystified, as if in shock, but just as quickly sheathes it on her hip.

“We need to dash across town and give the news to the inquisitor,” he says, masking his grief with mock-flippancy, though he expects the tremble in his tone gives him away. He stops just long enough to pick up the remains of Bianca, holding them tenderly, like a dying lover.

“She’s not going to take it well,” Harding says, a tear rolling down her cheek. “That poor woman has been through so much.”

“No,” he says, grim. “She’s not going to take it well at all.”

[divinekangaroo]

I attempted to replay DAII a few weeks back for the pleasure/refresher of the story and the character arcs but just couldn’t bring myself to do it. Have lost lots of capacity to enjoy game mechanics which extend length of time to engage w story and notwithstanding the dialogue is quite excellent (in a game context) it’s clunky for, say, a story, and the physical/visual staging in character interactions is v dated. (Key Settings are pretty decent for symbolism tho)

and that’s when I realised the first time ever why sometimes fans *do* get interested enough to write full novelisations of a thing.

[thebookworm0001]

I would pay real money to have Solas narrate the next DA:D trailer

seriously, I would love him to literally take back the narrative.

It’ll hurt me deeply I need it

[leonleonhart]

i love rauri's original clusterfuck design. im gonna draw it again

[musingmycelium]

. noncoherent but also thoughts

[rennybu]

genuinely a fan of taking the “mistakes” i made in my first DA2 run and looking at them from Orson’s character perspective, like, i messed up the timing on Isabela’s personal quest and so once she left she did Not come back, even tho they had high friendship. Orson struggled with balancing his work/life balance and could at times be very shallow and forgetful, and in trying to fix that aspect of himself (after Isabela’s departure) and put in more effort for his friends and open himself up to be trusting, just puts himself in a position where he much more easily gets used by Anders Because friends Help each other, even when the other is obviously withholding information, otherwise they might leave on a boat and never come back! Except this time it was not the boat

[tiny-elf-of-doom]

The Cloak-and-Dagger Game - DA2

M!Hawke x Fenris ft. Varric

Varric is writing another book and needs inspiration for his protagonist's sex sequence. To ensure his knowledge is clear as glass, he decides to snoop around Hawke's mansion to see what he and Fenris get up to. The dwarf ends up pleasantly surprised.

MDNI 🔞: sex, gay boys, top!Hawke, bottom!Fenris, flirting, dirty talk, language, erotic massage, rough kissing, spying, humor, Varric is hilarious, and plenty of banter.

In my attempts to complete my most recent tale, I've found myself in a rut; stuck with a lack of creativity. This happens among writers many times in their lives, but through trials and tribulations, or perhaps sheer luck, they break down such blockages. Unfortunately for me, I've been staring at this page for a while now, and of course its a heated scene.

I would love to think of myself as a sexually involved man, a romantic lover, but moments like this brings me to opposite conclusions. Perhaps I need to get into the mood when I write these sequences, or ask someone how to go about establishing the involvement of two men. I wipe the annoyance from my tired eyes, knowing fully that asking that question would be rather complicated. Sebastian has probably never been touched in his life, nor has Anders, but Hawke has, and so has the broody elf, Fenris.

Perhaps the clouds have lifted. A warmth pools over my lower belly as I imagine their secret escapades, or perhaps its the ale. No one knows what kinds of lustful acts they conduct, which would make it hard to interrogate them. I nearly banish the thought from my mind when I recall a conversation had between them at the Hanged Man. Something about staying the night in Hawke's mansion to 'catch up' after all of three days of separation had passed. I could snoop around, wade my way through the mansion until I stumble upon his sleeping quarters. I'd stay in a tight closet, yes, Varric, very good!

And so it is settled, I play the cloak-and-dagger game.

~*~

If I hadn't been so dull, I would have left some space between myself and the damn linens. Closets in these large houses never fail to be stuffed with ridiculous clothing. Wriggling against the farbics, I peek through the grates on the side of the wood paneling. From there, two figures are seated on the carpet, enjoying wine next to the fire. It crackles, blazing gold against their casual garb. I don't think I've ever seen Fenris and Hawke dress so simply, especially in one another's presence. Firelight brightens their skin and for once in all of the time I've known the elf, he smiles. Chuckles, even, at the yarn Hawke begins to spin.

He's truly not that comical. Well, compared to me, at least.

"...and that was how I defeated a Qunari in battle with a broken sword," Hawke finished with a bow.

Fenris had clapped, smirking with full lips. "A true hero of legend!"

Hawke batted the comment with his hand," forget it!"

"Award him with anything he desires!" Fenris replied.

Of course, I feel happy for Hawke and that broody elf, but their interactions are anything but unique. Typical lovers congratulating one another on their accomplishments was mild drabble, I want more, and after a moment of feeling like a fool trapped in a closet, I finally have my wishes granted.

"Anything I desire?" Hawke coos, "I would like you in my bed, elf."

"Me? I'm sure you can find someone better..." Fenris might be serious, appearing self-conscious as his gaze is cast aside.

Suddenly, Hawke's voice lowers. "No, Fenris. You have always had my full desire. I only crave you."

Now we're talking. I wish I brought a quill and paper with me, though I doubt it would fit in that closet with me. Hawke pulls the elf into a kiss with the tug of his fingers under that dainty chin. It's slow at first, then picks up when they began to get handsy. To be completely honest, I have always wanted to see the full design of Fenris' lyrium tattoos. They peak out along his arms and throat, some on his legs, but I have never had the chance to truly see what kind of chaos covers his torso. Hawke has, and I am still slightly jealous for that.

The elf happily disrobes, sitting nude in the wake of the fire. White, glowing lines flow along every muscle, branching around his body as a tree in spring blooms outward. It's kinda cool, though unfortunate. All the pain of a full body carving, and for what? To rip people's hearts out? It doesn't seem very fair. Soon, Hawke joins him in the disrobing, throwing their clothes to the side nearest to this closet. I hold my breath, don't you dare bump anything.

Luckily, they don't seem to notice my shadow moving between the grates. I am safe for the moment, thank the Maker. Fenris climbs atop Hawke, straddling his left thigh. He moves along the bulging muscles with finesse and utmost experience. To my surprise, he begins to make a stream of noises I never thought I would hear. They are loose, sultry in the back of his throat. A songbird couldn't carry a pretty tune as this elf can. Hawke has his left hand settled on the elf's hip, moving it along with the smooth gyrations.

"Care to take a ride with me, my beautiful Fenris?" Hawke asks softly.

Fenris nods, "yes, I believe a ride is much needed."

Oh yes, I agree. Hawke lifts the elf into his arms and I can't help but adore the way broody elf's legs wrap around Hawke's strong torso. To the bed they go and I've lost visual on them. Goddamnit, I curse. I peer around the closet for any holes in the wood, but I am left with darkness. Perhaps if I slightly open the door, I can see the bed. Rattling is heard from the nightstand, so there is enough distraction and noise to hide my movements. Carefully as to remain hidden, I push the closet door forward until there is a decent view of the bed. To my relief, neither of them noticed the squeaking. Varric, if you ever do this again, don't choose the fucking closet next time.

Hawke takes his time kissing the elf, making sure his lips have ventured over every crevice and marking on Fenris' body. His moans are sweet, but grow desperate when his lover pushes his legs upward to touch his shoulders. Maker's balls, I can't believe how flexible the elf is. If anyone else in our group ever tried that, they'd be out of commission for a month. However, Fenris wraps his arms around his calves, keeping them in place so Hawke has full access to his ass. He dips down to plant a kiss on the back of the elf's thigh, relaxing his partner, no doubt. Fenris is always a nervous creature, so such tenderness is most definitely needed.

Then, things become interesting.

I watch as Hawke latches to the elf's backside, licking the skin and fucking the hole with his tongue. Broody elf's big, green eyes roll back into his head, flopping to the bedsheets in absolute delight. A tingle pricks at my belly, an excitement like no other. I may need to take care of personal business at this rate, but not here. The sounds are obscene and Fenris is eating them up, going so far as to grip Hawke's hair for dear life.

"G-Get the oil, Hawke," the elf pleads, "I want more than just your tongue inside of me."

"Is it that bad?" He joked with a wink.

"It's better than anything I could ever dream."

Cheesy as hell, and I roll my eyes. Another kiss is pressed to the elf's leg before Hawke turns to grab their decorative bottle of oil. It's in a gold vial covered in intricate markings, likely one of the treasures Hawke's been gifted over the years. A few drops suffice along with the man's spit to lube them both. The larger man lays back against the pillows, welcoming a needy elf to seat himself on his lap. Those markings glow brightly, nearly blinding me as I try to shield my eyes. One hand on Hawke's well endowed cock and one lyrium clad palm help ease the elf onto that incredible hilt.

Pain, plenty of pain causes the elf to cry out. Even I cannot help but flinch at the idea of being penetrated by something so thick. The stretch must be unforgiving, though broody is taking it like a champ. Hawke rubs the elf's hips, attempting to sooth the agony just a little more. It takes time, and I expect it to, but soon he's seated and breathing heavy. And this is why I don't bottom.

"Are you alright, Fenris?" Hawke checks in, voice gentle.

Fenris only groans, gasping for any words willing to be released. There appear to be none present, therefore, he ignores communication and starts to rock his hips. Bouncing up and down, he brings Hawke into a small fit of vocalization. It's everything I imagined it would be, just as masculine and deep as his usual voice. Opening up slowly, Hawke joins Fenris in thrusting upward into the elf, angling his hips in a different manner every time. I raise my brow in momentary confusion, what is he trying to accomplish?

Suddenly, Fenris cries out, gripping Hawke's strong forearms. I think I see trails of blood leaking to the bed. "Keep your hips like that and don't you dare shift them!"

Ah, I mumble to myself, he found broody's love spot.

The thrusting continues in this new position and Fenris is mewling like the most popular whore in all of Lowtown. I never thought I would be hearing Fenris lose himself in the wrung of pleasure, but here I am, stiffening from the men before me. Bianca will be jealous, but I ignore the thought and begin to palm at my trousers.

"Fenris, not so fast... I might-" Hawke growls, head thrown back against the plush pillows.

Fucking hell, Hawke.

The elf slams his mouth against his lover's, taking him in a deep, hot kiss. "Come, right now... fill me with your kin."

What the hell, Fenris?

It all becomes too much, even for me, and I watch as the two come undone within each other's grasp. Fenris releases himself all over the front of Hawke's stomach and chest while the champion of Kirkwall has found a safe place to expel his orgasm within the elf. In order to keep myself from joining them, I squeeze the hell out of my testicles, focusing on the pain as opposed to the pleasure. They collapse onto the bed, heaving breaths until the only sound in the room is the roar of the fireplace.

"Once you're up to it, how does a bath sound?" Hawke questions.

"Much needed," broody raises his head to kiss Hawke's cheek, "thank you, my darling Hawke."

"Always, Fenris," he had replied.

No, no, thank you both, I cackle in thought, for all of these incredible ideas. Hopefully, I won't get anything wrong when I tell this story.

[trulyiamjustmaleficaring]

Sebastian Vael is such a profoundly lonely character

[potatoesandsunshine]

it’s ok scan you’re being so normal about it

[magerightsmagefights]

The Divine Sinner / Chapter 13

Fandom: Dragon Age II/Inquisition

Pairings: Inquisitor!Anders x Femhawke

Summary: Varric knew when the sky opened that he would be writing another book. New villain, new disaster, new hero to rise above the chaos -- only now, the Maker has chosen to prove once and for all that he has a sense of humor. And a very strange one, at that.Invited to the Conclave by Divine Justinia in hopes of peace, Anders half-hoped the Templars would kill him before the Calling did. He didn't expect to survive an explosion, much less wake up with a glowing mark in his hand, but he's a survivor; if he could endure three heartbroken years after Kirkwall, he can endure the Inquisition.

[baekuras]

a bit of (un)intentional character development on my Rook's part was going from Positive to Needing to fucking kill whoever currently hurt someone they care about to Offering a better part out only because said person wanted it

It's only a few instances-Bellara and her Brother, Lucanis and Illario...and ofc at the very end Solas My Rook was READY to beat this man into submission after all the lies, repeated fuckups, multiple deaths caused by all the Elven God bs and possibly even their lover being dead or hurt But Varric did manage to calm that down to a "We will never be friends nor will I be nice to him...but I will TRY for you alone" kind of level

and by Rook ofc I mean me as well bc my first playthroughs are always going of whatever vibe I feel at the moment and the vibe usually is protective whenever I have a character I care about

[a-gay-bloodmage]

Day 29: Navigator 

(Dorian x Aelon Lavellan)

Aelon Lavellan is a Dalish elf, yes, but that doesn’t mean that he’s a natural-born navigator. When he and a group of non-elves get lost in the woods on an outing, he’s forced to clarify some unfortunate assumptions.