#varric tethras/original female warden character(s)

[sinsbymanka]

Hello!! This is a long overdue gift for the lovely @curiousthimble​ who donated to my Valentine’s Day fundraiser AGES ago. Thank you so much and I’m so sorry this took so long! Thank you @sharkapologists​ for catching my typos! 

Title: Hubris and the Well Endowed Chapters: 1/1 Words: 5,219 Ship: Varric Tethras/Female Warden, Varric Tethras/Original Female Warden Character(s)  Rating: E Additional Tags:

Summary: Varric Tethras comes to Val Royeaux to celebrate the anniversary of his failed elopement with the one who got away. When she's not able to make it, he's left with more free time than he knows what to do with. Luckily, the Hero of Ferelden is in town, and she's taking clients.

Read on AO3

There are easier ways to get into Val Royeaux. Several, in fact. But Varric Tethras, fool that he is, has never been one to take the easy road. If he was built that way, after all, he’d have given up his epic romance back when it was still the wise thing to do.

Instead, he’s shivering in the back of a mule cart like an illicit shipment of lyrium, hat pulled low over his eyes and the collars of his duster popped. He looks like just another Carta bruiser without his trademark red silk and flashy gold jewelry, Bianca hidden under his coat for once. Anyone looking will assume he’s off to spend his ill-earned coin on the cheapest ale he can find.

Varric’s got classier plans though.

It’s not easy or cheap to arrange a date in Val Royeaux from Kirkwall, especially when he can’t put the whole shindig under his name. Varric’s willing to put the work in for a special occasion, though, and for this one he’s pulled out all the stops. Flowers. Good wine. The fresh saltwater oysters Bianca likes…

It’s been ten years since their failed elopement, after all, and that’s the damn closest thing they have to an anniversary. May as well celebrate in style.

As the cart passes down one of the broad avenues, Varric leaps nimbly from the back and strolls nonchalantly to a private little inn tucked behind ornate hedges styled like druffalos of all things. As if anyone in Val Royeaux has seen a druffalo in their lives. He hums under his breath, amused by the improbability of it all, and ducks through the private entrance down the charming cobblestone walk.

His contacts were right, it’s the perfect place for a secret assignation. No wonder it’s one of the most popular spots in Orlais for philandering nobles. That almost certainly means it’s being watched by a nice little cabal of spies, but Varric’s been drowning in paperwork for months. The inevitable assasination attempt will be just the excitement he needs.

[dasmutquisition]

Nomination Issues Round Up #1

In the first 12 hours there have been 264 nominations approved.

Approved nominations can be found on the spreadsheet (please be patient as we move from the alphabetized list sheet into the categories). All nominations submitted BEFORE 12:00PM US EST have been reviewed. Please check the spreadsheet for approved noms.

If you would like to clarify any of the below nominations so we can add them please let us know!

Rejected Nominations:

Cullen Rutherford/Alistair - approved already as Alistair/Cullen Rutherford

Calpernia & Raleigh Samson - accepted this nom in the shippy form, Calpernia/Raleigh Samson

Isabela/Fenris - approved already as Fenris/Isabela

Alistair/Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford - no background for Inquisitor

Anders/Female Warden - no background for Warden

Blackwall/Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford - no background for Inquisitor

Calpernia/Female Inquisitor - no background for Inquisitor

Carver Hawke/Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford/Rylen - no background for Inquisitor

Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford - no background for Inquisitor

Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford/Rylen - no background for Inquisitor

Sten/Female Warden - no background for warden

Alistair/Flemeth/Male Warden (Dragon Age) - no background for warden

Flemeth/Inquisitor (Dragon Age) - no background for inquisitor

Anders/Hawke - no gender for Hawke

Cousland/Nathaniel Howe - no gender for Cousland

Fenris/Hawke - no gender for Hawke

Hawke/Varric Tethras - no gender for Hawke

Justice/Hawke/Anders - no gender for Hawke

Flemeth/Original Character(s) - this is a bit too vague. Please let us know a gender or what type of characters (soldiers, villagers, mages, etc)

Zevran Arainai/Tabris - no gender for Tabris

Dragon Age Inquisition - only accepting DA: All Media Types as a fandom for tag set/AO3 reasons

Female Lavellan/Dreadwolf - while the mod team is (sincerely) hoping you want the massive wolf with six eyes - we're not sure that's a separate character from Solas or Fen'Harel although we highly encourage you to put this as a prompt in a Solas or Fen'Harel request

Explanations:

We are allowing Fen'Harel as a separate character from Solas - do what you will with it! All Fen'Harel noms have been approved so far

[ao3feed-cassandraxfeminquisitor]

by InYourFantasyFanfics

This is where I will post all of my dragon age requests from Tumblr as well as any that are requested on here in AO3!

Words: 450, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Multi

Characters: Zevran Arainai, Alistair (Dragon Age), Leliana (Dragon Age), Morrigan (Dragon Age), Sten (Dragon Age), Fenris (Dragon Age), Isabela (Dragon Age), Varric Tethras, Aveline Vallen, Merrill (Dragon Age), Cullen Rutherford, Josephine Montilyet, Dorian Pavus, Sera (Dragon Age), Vivienne (Dragon Age), The Iron Bull (Dragon Age), Cassandra Pentaghast, Solas (Dragon Age), Cole (Dragon Age), Blackwall (Dragon Age)

Relationships: all x reader - Relationship, Zevran Arainai/Female Warden, Alistair/Female Warden (Dragon Age), Alistair/Warden (Dragon Age), Leliana/Warden (Dragon Age), Female Inquisitor/Leliana (Dragon Age), morrigan/reader, Sten/Reader, Fenris/Hawke (Dragon Age), Isabela/Reader, Female Hawke/Varric Tethras, Varric/Reader, Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford, Female Inquisitor/Josephine Montilyet, Male Inquisitor/Dorian Pavus, Sera/Reader, The Iron Bull/Lavellan (Dragon Age), Female Inquisitor/Cassandra Pentaghast, Female Inquisitor/Solas (Dragon Age), Cole (Dragon Age)/Original Female Character(s), Blackwall/Female Inquisitor (Dragon Age)

[a-shakespearean-in-paris]

GOOD EVENING

I did a thing. :) I committed sacrilege by unchecking that beloved green box on A03 and am now expanding the story to past Corypheus’s defeat. :D

Chapters: 51/? Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford, Female Mage Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford, Cullen Rutherford/Female Trevelyan, Female Mage Trevelyan/Cullen Rutherford, Minor or Background Relationship(s) Characters: Female Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Female Trevelyan, Female Mage Trevelyan, Cullen Rutherford, Cullen (Dragon Age), Original Male Character(s), Varric Tethras, Cassandra Pentaghast, Leliana (Dragon Age), Josephine Montilyet, Iron Bull, Sera (Dragon Age), Vivienne (Dragon Age), Cole (Dragon Age), Dorian Pavus, Blackwall, Female Hawke, Rylen (Dragon Age), Original minor female characters, Solas (Dragon Age), Female Warden (Dragon Age), Morrigan (Dragon Age), Original Female Character(s) Additional Tags: Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Eventual Romance, Drama & Romance, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Lyrium Withdrawal, the course of true love never did run smooth, Lost Love, Character Development, Character Study, Past Relationship(s), Background Relationships, Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, Mages and Templars, Sexual Tension, Mutual Pining, Complicated Relationships, blossoming relationships, self doubt, perseverance, Couples having problems but working them out, Body Worship, Sensuality, Sexual Content, Canon-Typical Violence Series: Part 1 of Dreams Summary:

During war, Lydia and Cullen slowly fall in love. Wrought with initial strife, the former Circle mage and templar struggle with their pasts and present times, both haunted by ghosts until both at last understand and decide the two of them are for good. During their romantic exploration they begin to see each other and love one another as more than the Commander and Inquisitor, more than the rose that survived and endured the winter, and more than a forgotten goddess of old. Then the war ends, and they dream of dawn and constellations. *** A slow burn novelization of Inquisition, formally finishing after the defeat of Corypheus, now expanding beyond and focusing on the moments between Inquisitor Lydia Trevelyan, and her Commander. As the events of the Inquisition unfold, so do their own personal struggles, issues, torrid pasts, and feelings for one another. Sprinklings of other characters here and there. Slightly diverges from canon. Rated E for later chapters.

[rileysfs]

Chapters: 33/? Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford, Female Lavellan/Cullen Rutherford, Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford, Lavellan/Cullen Rutherford, Cullen Rutherford/Original Character(s), Cullen Rutherford/Original Female Character(s), Female Inquisitor & Cullen Rutherford, Female Lavellan & Cullen Rutherford, Inquisitor & Cullen Rutherford, Cassandra Pentaghast/Rylen, Blackwall/Josephine Montilyet, Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus, Dagna/Sera, Anders/Female Hawke, Alistair/Female Amell, Zevran Arainai/Leliana, Past:, Regalyan D'Marcall/Cassandra Pentaghast, Female Amell/Cullen Rutherford, Female Hawke/Cullen Rutherford Characters: Female Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Female Lavellan (Dragon Age), Female Warden (Dragon Age), Female Hawke (Dragon Age), Female Amell (Dragon Age), Original Female Character(s), Cassandra Pentaghast, Leliana (Dragon Age), Josephine Montilyet, Cullen Rutherford, Varric Tethras, Solas (Dragon Age), Fen'Harel | Solas, Inquisition Soldier(s) (Dragon Age), Sera (Dragon Age), Vivienne (Dragon Age), Harritt (Dragon Age), Dennet (Dragon Age), Dagna (Dragon Age), Blackwall | Thom Rainier, Blackwall (Dragon Age), Gordon Blackwall, Cole (Dragon Age), Dorian Pavus, The Iron Bull (Dragon Age), Bull's Chargers (Dragon Age), Fiona (Dragon Age), Morrigan (Dragon Age), Alistair (Dragon Age), Isabela (Dragon Age), Zevran Arainai, Anders (Dragon Age) Additional Tags: Depression, Severe Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Suicide Notes, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Lyrium Withdrawal, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rape, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Past Rape/Non-con, Underage Rape/Non-con, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Smut, Smut, Angst, POV Multiple, POV Third Person, Present Tense, when my mind gives me an idea I just roll with it and see where it goes Series: Part 1 of Mina Lavellan's Inquisition Story Summary:

Mina Lavellan has suffered from severe depression since she was a child. One day, the troubled shapeshifter mage is sent physically into the Fade, only to emerge with a glowing green mark on her hand and accused of genocidal murder. Can Mina overcome the odds and be the hero and leader everyone needs her to be, or will the stress kill her/make her kill herself?

Meanwhile, love is in the air in the Inquisition. Follow several couples, including Mina and Cullen, as their romances bloom into something much more beautiful. With four hopeless romantics in the room (Mina, Leliana, Josephine, and Cassandra), teasing and red faces ensue. When more hopeless romantics enter the room (Dorian, Victoria Hawke, Isabela, and even the HoF, Raisa Amell-Theirin, among others), even more teasing and red faces ensue. --------------------------- More information in the first chapter.

If you see this anywhere besides AO3 (or anywhere where the username isn't some form of "RileySFS" (I have a fandom wiki and tumblr account that I will post links of this fic on)), it's stolen.

Updates sporadically; usually once a week or so.

[degenerate-perturbation]

Chapters: 25/38 Fandom: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening, Dragon Age II Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Female Amell/Female Surana Characters: Female Amell, Female Surana, Anders, Velanna, Nathaniel Howe, Oghren (Dragon Age), Justice (Dragon Age), Sigrun (Dragon Age), Varric Tethras, Isabela (Dragon Age), Male Hawke (Dragon Age), Pride Demon(s) (Dragon Age) Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Self-Harm, Blood Magic, Prostitution, Drowning, Wilderness Survival, Mind Control, Human Experimentation, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better Series: Part 2 of void and light, blood and spirit Summary: Amell and Surana are out of the Circle, and are now free to build a life together. But when the prison doors fly open, what do you have in common with the one shackled next to you, save for the chains that bound you both?

Pollard’s blood lasted her only a handful of weeks. One vial she wasted, and for that she spent hours cursing her own foolishness, but successfully distilled second. Pure Blight pulsed black and ugly in the vial, viscous, oozing and alive, more than she had ever managed to get before; it was dreadfully difficult stuff to work with; corrosive, unstable, liable to eat through any vessel she kept it in. She had a thimblefull of taint now, and one vial of Pollard’s blood left over.

There had to be something. Veritas had said the secret was in the blood, and that made perfect sense. The blood of a man dying of the Taint, there had to be something.

But experiment after experiment revealed that the Blight in Pollard’s blood was no different from her own. She tried every test she’d spent all this time devising, distilling, refining, transforming, trying to find a single meaningful difference between the Taint in her blood and the Taint in the blood of a dying man. And there was nothing.

She had only the one vial left. Who knew when the next Warden would begin to hear the song? She should have taken more—curse her, she should have been more careful.

Normally she would have asked Avernus what he thought. He had ages more experience in experiments with Grey Warden blood. He might have even known all this already. If she could swallow her pride

But the thought of crawling back to him for help with something he probably had solved centuries ago made her physically recoil.

Avernus didn’t think it was even possible to cure the Taint, but what did he know? He didn’t  care about curing it. He only cared about the power in the Blight, how to use it to make new spells, learn more about magic. She was not like him. She was better. She could figure this out.

The longer she tried, the more her thoughts heaved with spurts of anger and pride and fear, wild despair-shot terror that whispered,  you are wrong, you are not good enough.  

She redrew the summoning circle. What choice did she have?

Only when she was halfway through the ritual did she remember to cast spells of concealment.

Veritas did not seem surprised to find itself back.“So soon, Loriel Surana? Again with the invisibility. Don’t you think it is a little paranoid?”

“Why doesn’t it work?” she demanded. “You said it was in the blood.”

“Of course the secret is in the blood,” said the demon. “I do not lie.”

“Then why is a dying man’s blood just the same as mine?

“The Taint does not change a man’s blood only, Loriel Surana. The taint is in your skin and hair and heart, it is in every part of you, not just your blood. What made you think you could understand the whole of something from its smallest part?”

“You  said—”

“Nothing that was false.”

She scowled. “I should have known better than to trust a demon. You lie without lying, all your kind does—”

Veritas seemed to grow then, filling up the room with its bulk. Its thousands of eyes stared unblinking right at her, its golden mask a terrible rictus. “ Do not dare insult me, mageling!  I am Veritas, he who knows ten thousand truths! Not one falsehood has ever passed my lips! Call me a liar again and I will  eat your heart.”

Loriel was gratified to know that she was still invisible, and Veritas did not see her flinch. “You might will it, Veritas, but it shall not happen. I have you bound so tight that if I  willed it, I could leave you here and never come back. I would bind you to this circle, to this mortal plane, and you would not see your home, nor anything besides this darkness, until you forgot your very name, until you were Veritas no more. Am I lying? Tell me true.”

Veritas was silent.

“That,” said Loriel, “is what I thought.”

“You are a bold little thing,” the demon said disdainfully, “to threaten me so, when you need my help.”

“I do not  need your help," she sniffed. "There are other demons like you. I could summon any of them just as well.”

“And yet you haven’t. Why is that, I wonder? If old incorrigible Veritas displeases you, why summon him? You want my cooperation, mageling, don’t deny it.”

“Fine. I won’t. I do want your help. What do you want in exchange?”

“Only this, Loriel Surana. Reveal yourself. Show me your true face, use your true voice. Let there be no unseemly secrets between the two of us.”

She had to laugh. “And what will you give me in return?”

“My goodwill, of course.”

Veritas did not lie. But it had to be a trick. What else could it be? A demon would not offer a deal unless it had the upper hand. The wise thing to do would be to dismiss it, find another spirit to deal with, one less dangerous, one with not quite so many staring eyes…

But...If she was going to show herself, she may as well do it to a creature that might understand her. She released the spells of concealment, and was beheld.

Every one of Veritas’s thousands of eyes focused right on her, boring into her skin, scraping every inch of her. “My, you’re even smaller than I was imagining.”

“Do you even know how to cure the Taint?” Her voice sounded preposterously small without the spell of echoing misdirection layered on top of it.

“No,” the demon said easily. “But I am very curious as to how you will manage it. I’m even willing to help.”

Of course. Of course of course of—“As though you’ve been any help.”

Veritas sat back lazily on its haunches. “You don’t even need my help, not at  this juncture. You said so yourself. You know exactly what you need to do.”

“Do I." The words dropped like stones from her mouth.

“Of course you do, Loriel Surana! You must use human subjects! Or elven, or dwarven, or whichever—you mortals are not all that different. I told you as much when last we spoke.”

“I did use human—”

“Do not be coy. Blood alone will not do it. You discovered as much yourself. You know what must be done, but still you hesitate. Why, I wonder?”

She did not answer.

“I will tell you this for free, because you already know it." Veritas turned in a circle and settled itself on its pause, like an enormous cat. "You hesitate because you wish to think of yourself as good, or at least, not evil. You prefer so strongly to believe that you are not like others of your kind that you would fail your stated goal on purpose. For as long as you stay bound to it, doing your reasonably convincing best, though you perform for no one but yourself, you do not have to move or think or be.”

She stood white-faced and silent, for every word rang true.

“Now if what you  truly wanted was what you claim to want,” Veritas went on, “you would not hesitate to do what you already know you must. You would accept the price of thinking yourself evil, and pursue that which brings you closer to your goal, and that alone. But this is  not what you want above all things, so you make only tepid and halfhearted efforts to achieve it.”

“You sound like Avernus,” she scoffed.

The demon’s golden eyes flared, and now it knew another name important to her. Was she truly so mad in her aloneness that she would give away her secrets to a demon, just to have someone to give them to?

Yes, she realized. Yes, she was.

    tck

Brigit concluded her report. No new deaths. No Callings. No sign of the Architect.

“Thank you, Seneschal.”  That will be all, but somehow those words did not get spoken, and until she spoke them Brigit would not move. She stood ramrod straight, at attention, the ideal servant.

“Seneschal. Why did you decide to come here?”

“To serve the Grey Wardens,” she answered at once. “To help. In my own small way.”

"And yet you do not join us?"

Brigit shook her head. "No, ser. I am no warrior. I can bear neither sword nor bow, but I hope to be of use in other ways."

"But why?" Loriel fixed her deep black gaze on hers. Brigit’s eyes were light, and they could be green or blue or brown depending on the light. Here and now, they looked slate grey, and did not waver one bit.

"I don't understand. What reason would I need to wish to serve? Why does anybody wish to serve?"

No. No, that rang false. "Please, Brigit. Let there be no secrets between us."

Finally Brigit dropped her gaze and said in a small and quiet voice: “I was at Denerim. During the battle. We had evacuated from the south, but the Blight had come for us anyway. I remember the storm...the only light came from the lightning. I saw the beast there, with my own eyes. I had never been so afraid in my life. I had always believed in the Maker, believed that he loved us, though we his children had gone astray...but when I saw that thing, I was not sure. What father would set such a thing on his children? I don't know why it affected me so deeply.

"And I saw it die. I saw  you slay it." You. Brigit said it like a prayer. "Ser, I am no scholar, but I know my history. I know that no Grey Warden has ever survived such a feat. I had never believed in miracles, until that day."

Am I all you hoped for? Loriel wanted to ask. But it only would have hurt her, and hurting her would have been the point. And if the answer had been yes, that would be too terribly to contemplate.

"I survived the assault, and returned to my life, but I never forgot. I wanted my life to mean something, but I was a coward. I cannot fight. I fear pain and death. I would be a useless Grey Warden... but I know sums, notations, and I write well. It is the Maker’s blessing that my mean skills are now of use.”

Loriel nodded slowly. “I see. Thank you.” Then she added, almost as an afterthought, “You know how much I value you, Brigit.”

The full light of the sun shined out from the smile that split Brigit's face. “Thank you, Commander. I ask for nothing else.”

“You understand what a rare thing it is, to have my trust.”

“I do.”

“Do you trust me as I trust you?”

“Of course, Commander—of course, of course.”

“Good. That’s good.” She hesitated only a moment longer. “Tell me, Brigit, when you hand down judgments in my name—for what do you condemn men to die?”

“Rape,” Brigit said at once. “Treason. Murder. Fire-setting. Poaching. Assault of a Chantry mother.”

“Are these the laws of the land, or my laws?”

“Both, Commander. It is difficult to defy tradition and keep the support of the Bannorn, but the Arlessa has some discretion.”

“Are there many such capital crimes?”

“Not many. But always some.”

“How many?”

“Four condemned men are in the dungeons now.”

“Only four?”

“Most who break your laws or the king’s are punished swiftly within the city of Amaranthine, or by a local sheriff. Only those cases of unusual difficulty are ever brought before the Arlessa. Usually when the perpetrator is a person of note, who cannot be punished without producing political difficulties. I try to resolve such things quickly, in your name, but they often take some time. Justice, if it ever comes, comes slow.”

Loriel noted the shadow that flicked across her face.

“And these men’s crimes?”

Brigit told her. Loriel listened, and when she finished, stood and said: “Take me to the dungeons, please.”

  tck

Brigit led her down the long and winding way to the dungeons. She went to take a torch from a sconce, but Loriel waved her away and cast a wisplight. Gamely, Brigit did not fluster.

There were guards at the door, junior Wardens serving a boring patrol, and they snapped to attention when they saw Brigit arrive. Their eyes widened with astonishment at the sight of Loriel. No wonder—these recruits looked fresh enough that they likely had never seen her before. Only heard the stories.

She bid them to leave. They hesitated, uncertain, weakly protesting that the prisoners could be dangerous, until Brigit repeated the order, and they scurried. That annoyed her—but she supposed this was a situation of her own making.

She remembered coming here on her very first full day as the Warden-Commander, called on to deal with a petty burglar. Funny how it had all turned out.  She didn’t know where Nathaniel was now. She didn’t even remember him leaving.

Most of the cells were still empty. Brigit ran a tight ship. But many were full.

“This is more than four.”

“Yes, ser. Most are not condemned to die. Many are kept here until their family can pay the geld.”

“And if they cannot pay it?”

“They will be punished, and released.”

Loriel looked at the imprisoned men. They did not look dangerous. They looked tired and afraid and miserable. Her people, and she their warden.

“Which of these is the murderer?”

“The third cell on the right, ser.”

The murderer’s name was Geron, and he had murdered his own daughter. The girl had been seven years old, and Geron had smashed her head in with a cast iron pot. His wife had fled their house in terror, and when no one in the village would help her, had journeyed all the way to Vigil’s Keep to receive the Arlessa’s justice. The Arlessa’s men had found Henrick hiding in the attic of the inn, and dragged him to the dungeons to await judgement. Brigit had rendered it—death by hanging, for the crime of murder.

It had been an unusual decision, considering the extenuating circumstances. Geron had only done it because the little girl had been a mage. He’d caught her making mud-creatures with her mind, realized what she was, and killed her on the spot.

Loriel gazed blankly at him for a long time before speaking. “Why did you do it?”

The murderer raised his head. His eyes were streaming. “Please, ser.”

“Why did you do it?” she repeated.

He could hardly speak. He mouthed something that did not seem like an answer to her question.

“Tell me, please,” Loriel said quietly. “Were you afraid of her? Did you think it better for her to die? Did you hate her?”

This is what my people think of me, she thought. An insect. They would crush me in their disgust, were I small enough. But then, had he not killed his girl, she would have been taken to the Circle. Perhaps he had done her a favor.

She pressed her finger-ring into her palm. “Tell me.”

“I panicked,” the man babbled. She'd hardly had to compel him at all. “I didn’t mean to. Maker, forgive me, I’d do anything to take it back, forgive me!”

No,  thought Loriel,  I do not think I will.

“Then I offer you a choice.” She spoke quietly, but every ear in the room still strained to hear her. “You may take your death by hanging, or you may take the Joining. A life of service awaits you if you survive. The choice is yours.”

“Yes,” the man said hoarsely. “Yes, I will take the Joining. Thank you, Maker, thank you.”

She stepped back from the child-murderer’s cell.

“And the rest of you?” she inquired. “The same choice lies before you. Death, or the Joining?”

One by one, each condemned man volunteered.

Loriel turned to Brigit, who had gone pale and ghostly in the dim light of the dungeon. “Make the arrangements, Seneschal.”

  tck

Brigit remained pale and silent as they left the dungeons. Loriel noted it, but waited to return to the safety of her office to press. “Is something the matter, Seneschal?”

“Nothing, ser,” Brigit said quickly.

Loriel waited expectantly, and thought Brigit would keep whatever it was to herself, when:

“It is only that…” She struggled, then burst out: “Are you certain this is wise, Commander? Vigil’s Keep does not lack for recruits. Why offer this honor to these men who have broken the laws of your land?”

“Everyone deserves a second chance. The Grey Wardens have always recognized that.”

“I—yes, of course, but,” it took her visible effort to continue, “but it is not about what one  deserves . If a man is to be made a Grey Warden, I would have to find somewhere to place him. If he might pose a threat to his fellow Wardens, if we could not trust him—”

“Do you have such concerns about any man in particular?”

Brigit set her jaw and nodded. “Yes. Calder. There are details of his crimes that you may not fully appreciate. He is a relative of Bann Helven, and the situation with the Bann is complicated. Condemning his cousin for a crime that in other Arlings is not punishable by death at all was difficult. The Bann does not feel Calder’s crimes warrant death, and I may have to bend to his wishes.” The venom in her voice was enough to take Loriel aback. “To have him as a Grey Warden will only complicate things further.”

“To be a Grey Warden is an honor," Loriel said mildly. "Surely the Bann can see that.”

Brigit pressed her lips together. “It is not only that. Calder, he’s...He would have to be kept away from women and children. The girls he—they were young. He...a man such as that would be a liability for the Wardens, not an asset.”

Oh. Calder was the rapist. Loriel took in Brigit’s tight lips, her white face, and put it all together.

Suddenly she felt she understood Veritas. She let her voice soften. “Then of course I will take that into account.”

“Commander, I…”

Loriel extended a comforting hand, placed it lightly on her forearm. Brigit’s breath stopped in her lungs.

“Seneschal,” Loriel said, in her best pass at soft and gentle. “I understand completely. We are both women, after all.”

The effect on her was immediate. Loriel didn’t even need to say the lie, or even imply it. Brigit did it all herself.  The Seneschal, usually a cipher of utter professionalism, cracked into pieces of gratitude and pity and devotion. And there it was. She had her.

“There is no need for you to attend this Joining. I will handle it.”

She tried to hide it, but her shoulders still sagged in relief, just as they tightened again with guilt. “Are you absolutely certain, Commander?”

“Of course. Make whatever preparations are necessary. I will take care of things from there.”

“Yes, ser.”

“Do you believe me, when I say that all I do, I do to fight the Blight?” she said softly.

“I believe you.” She said it at once, with such fervor. Loriel had no doubt she meant it.

“Do you trust me, Seneschal?”

“Yes,” Brigit all-but-whispered.

“Then let us speak no more of this.”

  tck

Brigit wasted no time. She had everything arranged by the following evening. She apologized profusely that it could not be earlier, offered again and again to be present, obviously relieved each time Loriel declined.

For her part, Loriel made token attempts to make progress on the work while she waited, but by the second day, gave up. She sat in her Underkeep and thought incessantly of the child-murderer. It did not seem real, what she intended to do. Let alone how much she wanted to do it.

The hour approached at once intolerably slowly, and terrifyingly fast.

Guards brought the prisoners to the deserted chamber, released them from their chains, and departed. Loriel had already ensured they would not remember this, or come back in here. The prisoners were still and silent, awaiting their fates.

Loriel had not been present at a Joining in years. She only remembered the words because she had looked them up in advance. Not that they were important. Not that anyone in this room would leave it alve.

“Join us, brothers, in the shadows where we stand vigilant,” she said. She sounded ridiculous. “Join us as we carry the duty that can not be forsworn.” How did anybody take this seriously? “And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten.” It would not be remembered in the first place. She’d made sure of that. “And that one day, we shall join you.”

The last word echoed away, and then she offered the cup: “Who shall take the Joining first?”

At least she was giving them a choice. Not much of a choice—one death or the other—but it more than the choice Loriel had been given. More than the choice almost every Warden in existence had been given. In her own Joining, Duncan hadn’t even let them volunteer. At least  they had done something to deserve it, besides being born.

One of the men shrugged and stepped forward. Loriel knew neither his crime nor his name. He stared at the vile mixture for long moments before finally taking a sip.

A sip was all it took. He spasmed, gasped, and choked. He died over the course of a few seconds, but they were long seconds.The three remaining prisoners stood stiff and staring at the body. They had known this might happen, but now it was real.

It was altogether not surprising. Even honest, devoted, strong-willed people could die in the Joining. She had no reason to expect that men who had only agreed to the Joining out of desperation to do much better.

“His sacrifice will not be forgotten,” Loriel said flatly.

“Th-that’s a horrible way to die. Maker, I…” Another of the condemned men was shaking his head. “I—I think I’d rather hang.”

She shook her head minutely. “That is no longer possible.”

“Please,” his voice was a whisper— “Please don’t make me drink that. Please, I can’t, please just let me go back to my cell, I won’t cause no trouble, please, Arlessa...I’d rather a good clean death.”

The hangman wouldn’t offer him that. “I grant it,” she said, and crushed a blood vessel in the base of his brain. He was dead before he hit the ground. Instant. Painless. Better than a stopped heart or crushed lungs. She had gotten better at this, since the first time she'd tried it.

“His sacrifice will not be forgotten,” she intoned.

Two remained. Calder, the rapist with the noble relative, looked at the cooling corpse in horror, but the child-murderer’s eyes were closed as though in prayer. Loriel thought of drawing his blood screaming out of him, confirming his every worst fear about her kind. She thought of the lies she would tell him—that she could feel his little daughter’s spirit in the Fade, that she was here with her, that she wanted her to do this thing to him. How she would make him suffer, how she would make him weep. How she would use every trick she had ever learned to keep him alive, how he would spend eternities paying for what before she even began to consider granting him rest.

Yes, she wanted it. She would do it. She could not wait to do it.

“Step forward.”

Geron opened his eyes with resolve, stepped forward, and knelt. She watched his face. It was open and honest, terrified but resolved. He regretted what he had done. He wanted to atone.

Well, he would.

“Get up,” she barked. “Drink!”

Geron took the Joining cup and drank.

He collapsed immediately. The Joining cup would have fallen and spilled its noxious contents if not for Loriel’s instinctual telekinetic spell. Geron had looked pathetic in the dungeon, pathetic begging her forgiveness, and now he looked both pathetic and  small, collapsed on the flagstones. Her heart thundered. What fortune that this man was there in the dungeons. She might never have otherwise had the courage.

And then she realized that the faint pulse of life was gone. The Taint had taken her prize. He was dead.

The soap-bubble beauty of her little fantasy popped.

“His sacrifice...will not be forgotten,” she said, unsure for whose benefit.

Bitter disappointment settled in her chest, tinged with the faintest strains of shamed relief.

“Guess that leaves me, then,” said Calder. He had raped and badly beaten three young girls. Now he stood swinging his arms, looking around at all the corpses.

“Just how often is this Joining fatal?”

She was slow to reply. “Not as fatal as your one alternative."

Calder barked a laugh. “Point taken. Well, nothing for it.” Calder seized the cup and took an unseemly swig, nearly spilling it down his front. He gagged and coughed, flecks of Joining blood splattering the flagstones. She was not really paying attention to him anymore. She stared at Geron’s corpse. She had been so sure...so ready…

In the heartbeats that followed, Calder, too, gagged and bent, and collapsed insensible to the flagstones.

And Loriel was alone with herself once more.

  tck

She hadn’t slept at all when she next saw Brigit.

“Commander,” the Seneschal murmured as she set her morning tea in front of her.

“Seneschal,” Loriel replied, wrapping her hands around the cup, absorbing none of its warmth.

Brigit gave her report, halfheartedly. Loriel listened with even less heart than that. Finally they had performed enough normalcy that they dared speak of the matter at hand.

“Are there new Wardens for me to assign?”

“Oh,” Loriel said, as though she hadn’t even been thinking of it. “No. No, there aren’t.”

Brigit’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh. All four?”

“Yes. I’m afraid so.”

Brigit exhaled with relief. “It is justice, then.”

“No,” Loriel said flatly. “It isn’t.” Justice would be for that girl to have lived. Justice would be for a world where her death at the hands of her father would be an unthinkable absurdity. Justice would be a world where death had not been a kinder fate than the Circle. Justice had fled this place, leaving a massacre in his wake. Justice could not dwell in this world and remain Justice.

“No...it isn’t,” Brigit reluctantly agreed. “But the nearest thing that can be hoped for.”

“Brigit—may I ask you a question?”

“Of course, ser. I am ever at your service.”

An idle thought:  As you should be. “Do you suppose I did the right thing, in allowing these men to be Joined?”

A voice, a ghost, a memory:  Of course you did the right thing.

“I would not presume to say, Commander. I trust you know what is best.”

“I am asking what  you think is best, Brigit.”

Brigit gazed at her feet. “It is immaterial what I think.”

“No, Brigit. It isn’t. Look at me. I value your opinion. I would have you speak your mind.”

The Seneschal lifted her head. “I think...that is quite unusual, for every recruit to die in a Joining.”

Loriel held her gaze steady. “These men volunteered only to escape their imminent deaths. I would not expect many to survive.”

“Yes...but many come to the Wardens seeking to escape their fates,” Brigit said, slowly. “Four is not so many as to be impossible. Perhaps not even notable, to those unfamiliar with the process. But it is...unusual.”

“Hm. Yes. Perhaps so.” Loriel made out as though she were examining her nails. “But this way at least Bann Helven can be comforted that his cousin died in faithful service. To die in the Joining is an honor. Far more so, I think, than to be executed on such charges as he had.”

“That...is certainly so.”

“Tell me again, Brigit. Do you think it was good, or bad, for me to allow those men to be Joined? Answer truly.”

An echo:  You always do the right thing.  

Brigit held very still. Finally she bowed her head. Perhaps it was only the angle of her head, but she seemed to be smiling. “I confess I think it good.”

Loriel shaped a smile in return. “That is wonderful to hear, Brigit. I do so value your support.”

“Thank you, Commander.”

“You should dress more finely. You speak with the voice and all the authority of the Arlessa of Amaranthine and the Commander of the Grey. Have you no fine brocades in silver or blue?”

How fortunate, that Brigit was pale enough that even the faintest of flushes showed easily on her skin.

“I could obtain some.”

“Good. Do so. You should dress as befits your position. Now, if we have nothing further to discuss...”

Brigit left her office flushed and preening. If Loriel had any doubts about her they were gone now. She was heartened to know that she did not yet need to accomplish  everything with blood magic.

She finished the tea in silence.

  tck

Loriel long dwelled on Geron’s death, down in her Underkeep.

She had no love of self-deception. She had long prided herself on this. She saw this ugly world, her ugly self, just as they were, and did not flinch. The old commander was the one who flinched. Not her.

And yet she had somehow been so wrong about her own nature.

Some things that Loriel knew about herself—that she liked power. That she liked to be in control. That she was ready to risk other people’s minds and souls, if she could keep her power and stay in control. It didn’t take a demon of knowledge to figure out why. She could imagine what Veritas would say, were it here:

Of course you love power,  it would say as it pranced in its binding  circle. Of course you would choose to keep power over all other things. You were a prisoner, Loriel Surana! A helpless little girl, bound by walls and violent men and love and fear and duty, and you are that prisoner still, prisoner of your own pretentions. You can no more escape yourself than you can cure the Taint. All prisoners everywhere take any scrap of control that they can get.

A woman who craved power above all else could not possibly be called  good . She had tried so long and so hard to be good, and it had been impossible, and the strain of trying had nearly cracked her open. Well, fine. She did not need to be good. The Chantry was good, and the Chantry decreed it good to keep children imprisoned with rapists and torturers and murderers, decreed it good to break their souls. What did she care for being good?

But Veritas had been right, that she was lying to herself about what she wanted most. She wanted to find a cure, yes, that was so—but more than that, she wished so dearly to not be evil. If she could not be  good, at least let her not be evil. Let her not sink to the furthest depths. Let her say that some things even she would not do, places even she would not tread.

Yet when the opportunity presented itself to subject a repentant man to torment in plain revenge for a crime that could not be undone, whose victim could not be recompensed—she had wanted it so badly.

Before she had gone to the dungeons she was not sure if she would have really done it. But she would have. And she would have enjoyed it. She had thought that, once the heat of the moment had passed, that she would grow horrified at herself, vow never to consider such a course again—

And that had not happened.

Was that not evil? To wish to inflict harm, just for the sake of it? For the sake of one’s own pleasure? There was no truer face of evil that Loriel could think of.

After that...it would be pure insanity, to slow progress on her work, just to keep thinking herself pure, when she so clearly was not so, and never had been. She had come into this world destined already cursed, already tainted. The Joining that had put darkspawn taint in her veins was little more than a formality. She had  thought that she’d understood this.

Veritas had been right about her priorities, but they were changing now. If she could not be good, if her nature was purely evil, then—at least she might  do good.

That meant she could not let herself get in her own way.

  tck

Calder woke. It surprised him. He’d had such dreadful dreams, but now he was awake—sweet Maker, he was awake. He was alive, he had survived! A Grey Warden, he thought in a heady rush, I’m a Grey Warden now. The relief that bloomed in him was palpable, almost overwhelming. He lay upon what felt like a stone slab in partial darkness, and blessed Andraste, he’d survived.

He had really thought he was going to die, and die horribly. Sure enough he had felt ready to when the vile Joining mixture had burned the back of his throat. He'd never tasted anything half so vile..

And he had had such dreams…

But it was over now. Alive, alive!

He heard someone approach. “Congratulations,” said a voice. He recognized it. The Arlessa—and his Commander, now. He didn’t think he’d ever been so happy to hear anybody in his entire life. “You are a Grey Warden, now.”

He moved to sit up, to thank her, and found that he couldn’t.

Only then did Calder notice the fact that he was paralyzed. There were no chains on his wrists or ankles,-but the force that bound him to where he lay was far heavie than chains. He could move, and he could blink, even move his head a little to track the Arlessa as she moved around the room, but that was all.

“I’m sorry,” said the Arlessa, and she sounded like she meant it. “If it makes you feel any better, leaving you alive was never an option.” She turned to a workbench. He heard the clinking of glass, the smell of intermixing reagents. “A Grey Warden is bound to a life of service. So you are here, helping me with some important work.”

Calder tried to speak, to scream, but though he could move his tongue to swallow, no sound came from his throat save for a strangled voiceless gargle.

“I’ve stilled your voice, but I can unstill it. We can speak like civilized people, before I begin," said the Arlessa. "If I let you speak, will you do your best not to scream? Blink twice for yes.”

He blinked twice, and all of a sudden had a voice again.

“What’s happening? What are you going to do to me?” The words tumbled out in a stilted rush.

“As I said,” said the Arlessa. “You are helping me with some important work. As a subject. The details, I am afraid, likely would go over your head, though I can discuss them with you for a short time if you truly desire.”

“Please,” he begged, “my father, he can help you. He’s an established man. Surely we can work something out—”

“Your father,” she interrupted, “believes you to have died honorably in service to your countrymen. A funeral is planned for next week. They will burn what looks quite convincingly like your body. Your family will mourn, but they will have closure. Privately some of them will feel a little relieved. I hope that makes you feel a little better.”

Calder threw his head back against the stone on which he lay. Was it his imagination, or could he move more freely than before? “I know I did some bad things. The Maker will judge me, I know I deserve to suffer—”

The Arlessa gave a slight tilt of the head. “Deserve? No, I don’t think anybody  deserves to suffer. This has nothing to do with what you deserve. Only what you can offer. If it matter to you, your life will probably make more of a difference to the people of Thedas than any other Grey Warden alive.”

Only then did it dawn on him. Sweet Maker, the rumors had been true, all of them. She was going to-- “You’re going to use me as a sacrifice in your demented rituals, aren’t you?” he said hysterically. “Andraste protect me, you’re going to...to…” His imagination failed him.

The Arlessa looked deeply offended. “I am not going to do any such thing. I need no more than my own blood and sweat and pain to work these spells. You are a subject, not a sacrifice.”

“You maniacal fucking bitch,” he gasped, “I’ll fucking kill you, you evil—”

Just like that he had no voice anymore. The Arlessa looked vaguely annoyed, at best.

“I strongly prefer you do not use language like that in front of me."

Tears leaked silently from the corners of his eyes.

“Perhaps it is foolish to talk to you,” she sighed. “Or rather, I know it is foolish. I admit that perhaps I feel a little lonely at times. But it would be cruel to leave you like this.”

His tears flowed freely down his temples and into his hair.

“You won’t die anytime soon, I’m afraid,” she said, drawing a knife, and at first he feared she would kill him there and then. “I don’t want to have to do this to any more people than I absolutely have to. But you will die with honor, and you won’t suffer. Goodbye. Know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten.”

When she spoke next, her voice was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard, so lovely and sublime that not to do whatever she wanted was the height of madness. “You do not know pain. You do not know fear. You are a vessel, empty of everything that might cause you to suffer. You are aware of your body, enough to describe how it feels to me, but it no longer troubles you. If you need something to live, you will tell me at once. Otherwise you will stay here, neither living nor dead, and you will know nothing.”

Calder fell into the silence, and didn’t.

[crackinglamb]

Chapters: 27/28 Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Female Lavellan/Solas, Fen'Harel | Solas/Female Lavellan, Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus, Female Hawke/Varric Tethras, Cullen Rutherford/Original Female Character(s), Felassan (Dragon Age)/Original Character(s) Characters: Cremisius "Krem" Aclassi, Hawke's Mabari (Dragon Age), Abelas (Dragon Age), Bran Cavin, Cole (Dragon Age) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Modern Girl in Thedas, Established Relationship, Fluff-uary 2021, Tumblr Prompt, Fluff, Romance, Carly & the Ancient Elvhen Boyband, Platonic love is important too, Explicit Sexual Content Series: Part 4 of Til It Squeaks: A Modern Girl's Take on Thedas Summary:

A multi-ship romp of fluffy prompts! Featuring Carly and Solas, Dorian and Iron Bull, Varric and Hawke and more. These all exist within the worldstate of Twist, an MGIT AU. Pairings and/or POV will head each prompt in the author's notes.

NSFW will be marked with **.

As always, beta'd by Iron_Angel.

Chapter 27 - New Tradition

“Let's eat!” Carly cried and let Solas lead her to the center of the long table.

The meal was excellent and the wine flowed freely.  As did the conversation.  The glow of the candles on the table, as well as the mage lights sent up one by one by both human mages and Elvhen, gave everything a softer look.  The tree was finished and the small gifts exchanged between those that had brought them.  Carly felt like her heart might burst with joy.

“This is a good tradition,” Josephine said as they stood back while the elves engaged the humans in a game of wits that seemed to combine charades with puns.  Surprising no one at all, Varric had the current highest score, with Felassan not far behind him.  The laughter from the table was echoing off the walls of the keep.  

“I'm glad I was able to pull it off,” Carly replied.  “And have you all here.  I know for some of you the idea of coming here has been...”

“An adjustment?” Josephine laughed.  “It is a new world, as Warden Cousland said. We must adjust to it, or be left behind by it.”

“I suppose that's true.”

“You have achieved a peace unthought of for millennia, you know.  I'm proud of you.”

“Thanks, Josie.”

[ashequinnlavellan]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Origins Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Male Adaar/Female Adaar, Male Inquisitor (Dragon Age)/Original Character(s), Male Inquisitor (Dragon Age)/Original Female Character(s) Characters: Male Adaar (Dragon Age), Adaar (Dragon Age), Adaar Family (Dragon Age), Josephine Montilyet, Cullen Rutherford, Cole (Dragon Age), Cassandra Pentaghast, Solas (Dragon Age), Vivienne (Dragon Age), Dorian Pavus, The Iron Bull (Dragon Age), Leliana (Dragon Age), Blackwall (Dragon Age), Blackwall | Thom Rainier, Fen'Harel | Solas, Sera (Dragon Age), Varric Tethras, Original Qunari Character(s), Female Hawke (Dragon Age), Female Warden (Dragon Age), Nightmare (Dragon Age), Gereon Alexius, Felix Alexius, Mythal (Dragon Age), Flemeth | Mythal (Dragon Age), Corypheus (Dragon Age), Bianca the Crossbow (Dragon Age), Lace Harding, Dagna (Dragon Age), Dragon Age: Inquisition Inner Circle, The Inquisition (Dragon Age), Tal-Vashoth Character(s) (Dragon Age), Apostate Characters (Dragon Age), Kieran (Dragon Age), Original Adaar Child(ren) (Dragon Age), Adaar's Parents (Dragon Age) Additional Tags: Sad and Happy, Fluff and Angst, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Angst, Angst and Feels, Action/Adventure, mostly action, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Time Travel, Past Character Death, Character Death, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Blood and Violence, Explicit Language, dragons!, Canon-Typical Violence Summary:

The Adventures of "Grandpa" Adaar during his time as Herald and Inquisitor.

[defunct-ao3feed-adoribull]

Lost in Dreams

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3iYtMCH

by Ace_of_Spades (ImmaRwaffle)

You do not know how long you have wandered the Fade and its endless, shifting paths.

The longer you linger, the more you fade. You cannot afford to forget again, no matter the cost.

And you will not allow another world to burn, even if you must first reduce it to ashes yourself. --- A girl from Earth becomes lost in dreams among the Fade. Stripped of her memories and her physical form, she must possess the body of another in order to cross the Veil. Usurping the Surana origin, she must juggle searching for pieces of her past with attempting to save Ferelden and the rest of the world from the Blight. And making use of handsome elves, of course.

Words: 6281, Chapters: 2/?, Language: English

Series: Part 1 of Lost in Dreams, Part 1 of Modern Girls in Thedas

Fandoms: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: F/F, F/M, Multi

Characters: Female Surana (Dragon Age), Zevran Arainai, Alistair (Dragon Age), Original Characters, Morrigan (Dragon Age), Wynne (Dragon Age), Sten (Dragon Age), Male Amell (Dragon Age), Jowan (Dragon Age), Oghren (Dragon Age), Shale (Dragon Age), Leliana (Dragon Age), Female Tabris (Dragon Age), Female Aeducan (Dragon Age), Female Brosca (Dragon Age), Sigrun (Dragon Age), Velanna (Dragon Age), Nathaniel Howe, Anders (Dragon Age), Justice (Dragon Age), Original Spirit Character(s), Duncan (Dragon Age), Female Cousland (Dragon Age), Dog (Dragon Age), Cole (Dragon Age), Solas (Dragon Age), Sera (Dragon Age), Dorian Pavus, The Iron Bull (Dragon Age), Vivienne (Dragon Age), Cullen Rutherford, Josephine Montilyet, Amell Family (Dragon Age), Blackwall | Thom Rainier, Cassandra Pentaghast, Varric Tethras

Relationships: Zevran Arainai/Female Warden, Zevran Arainai/Female Surana, Zevran Arainai/Original Female Character(s), Male Amell/Morrigan (Dragon Age), Alistair/Female Cousland (Dragon Age), Female Aeducan/Leliana (Dragon Age), Female Brosca/Sigrun (Dragon Age), Morrigan/Male Warden (Dragon Age), Male Lavellan/Josephine Montilyet, Cullen Rutherford/Female Surana (one-sided), Blackwall | Thom Rainer/Female Cadash, Male Amell & Female Surana (Dragon Age), Male Amell & Jowan (Dragon Age), Jowan & Female Surana (Dragon Age), Male Amell & Female Surana & Jowan, Female Tabris/Velanna (Dragon Age), Morrigan & Female Surana (Dragon Age), Alistair & Female Surana (Dragon Age), Dorian Pavus/The Iron Bull

Additional Tags: Multiple Origins (Dragon Age), Not all are grey wardens though..., The Blight (Dragon Age), Modern Girl in Thedas, Reincarnation, sorta - Freeform, Main Character is technically a well-preserved Arcane Horror, does that make it necrophilia???, Putting the romantic in necromantic, Origins to Inquisition, Magi Origin (Dragon Age), Asexual Character, Arcane Warrior (Dragon Age), Bethany and Carver Hawke Live, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Circle of Magi (Dragon Age), Grey Warden Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Dragon Age: Origins Spoilers, Dragon Age II Spoilers, Dragon Age: Inquisition Spoilers, Surana learns ALL the specializations, all of them - Freeform, Multiple Wardens (Dragon Age), Surana is here to kick ass and chew bubblegum, and she's all out of bubblegum, I Love Zevran Arainai, Zevran Arainai in Dragon Age: Inquisition

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3iYtMCH

[little-mothrid]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age (Comics), Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Relationships: Fen'Harel | Solas/Original Female Character(s), Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus, Cremisius "Krem" Aclassi/Female Lavellan, Dagna/Sera (Dragon Age), Cullen Rutherford/Female Warden Characters: Fen'Harel | Solas, Mythal (Dragon Age), Flemeth (Dragon Age), Morrigan (Dragon Age), Abelas (Dragon Age), Cassandra Pentaghast, Varric Tethras, Cole (Dragon Age), Andruil, Ghilan'nain (Dragon Age), Hanal'ghilan (Dragon Age), The Iron Bull (Dragon Age), Dorian Pavus, Blackwall | Thom Rainier, The Warden, Evenuris Additional Tags: Slow Burn, Arlathan (Dragon Age), Romance, Pre-Games, Pre-Dragon Age: Origins, Pre-Dragon Age II, Pre-Dragon Age: Inquisition, Pre-Dragon Age: Inquisition - Trespasser DLC Series: Part 1 of What Once was Lost Summary:

Fen'Harel wasn't always a trickster god. He was once an innocent child, lost in a world shrouded in fire and death struggling to survive. She was the purest of The Originals, offering her guidance to those in need of it.

[ao3feed-handers]

The Tram Driver

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2R3fkgV

by 8bitamanda

Anders takes the job as a tram driver at the Kirkwall Zoo because, unfortunately, writing a manifesto on mage rights doesn't exactly pay the bills. Once hired, he's determined to stick it to the Circle Tower even further by making friends. He doesn't expect to fall in love as well.

(This work has been edited for completeness. Enjoy!)

Words: 10901, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Anders (Dragon Age), Male Hawke (Dragon Age), Merrill (Dragon Age), Isabela (Dragon Age), Fenris (Dragon Age), Varric Tethras, Aveline Vallen, Bethany Hawke, Carver Hawke, Leandra Hawke, Gamlen Amell, Ser Pounce-a-Lot

Relationships: Anders/Male Hawke, Minor or Background Relationship(s)

Additional Tags: Modern Era, Explicit Language, Sensuality, Fluff, Angst, Red Hawke (Dragon Age), Protective Hawke (Dragon Age), Mage Abuse and Opression (Dragon Age), Magical Tattoos, Mage (Dragon Age) Rights, Family Issues, Minor Fenris/Isabela (Dragon Age), Minor Alistair/Female Warden (Dragon Age), Zoo, Stuffed Toys, Happy Ending

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2R3fkgV

[trewestriandta]

Chapters: 62/? Fandom: Dragon Age Inquisition - Fandom, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age (Video Games) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Brace for it, All the ships - Relationship, RarePairHell, Blackwall/Female Inquisitor, Female Adaar/Sera, Josephine Montilyet/Cullen Rutherford, Male Adaar/Cassandra Pentaghast, Dorian Pavus/Original Character(s) Characters: Female Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Male Lavellan, Female Adaar, Male Adaar, Cassandra Pentaghast, Cullen Rutherford, Josephine Montilyet, Leliana (Dragon Age), Female Cadash, Blackwall, Cole (Dragon Age), Dorian Pavus, Iron Bull, Varric Tethras, Hawke (Dragon Age), Vivienne (Dragon Age), Sera (Dragon Age), Solas, Original Characters Additional Tags: Universe Alteration, Slight Cannon divergence, HUGE Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Smut, POV Multiple, Commentary welcome, concrit welcome, Gratuitous use fandom lore, You get a Gray Warden, and you get a Gray Warden, Anyone else want to show up to this party?, Slow Burn, No like seriously Slow Burn, Well - Freeform, like 1 really Slow Burn and like 5 not-so-slow Burns Series: Part 1 of Chain Links Summary:

When Corypheus used the Orb to try and break open the Veil, his actions had wide reaching consequences. But while Thedas is scrambling to figure out how to seal the Breach, Dawn Wesson is trying to figure out how a modern girl from Earth got dragged into Thedas and thrust into the middle of events that will shape the future of this new world. Dawn bears the burden of knowing what is to come and has to decide just what has to stay the same and what absolutely has to change. But this world is not the narrow confines of the game she remembers, and when things are vastly different from what she knows, Dawn has to play it by ear, only this time there are no save files or restarts.

[a-shakespearean-in-paris]

Chapters: 62/? Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford, Female Mage Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford, Cullen Rutherford/Female Trevelyan, Female Mage Trevelyan/Cullen Rutherford Characters: Female Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Female Trevelyan, Female Mage Trevelyan, Cullen Rutherford, Cullen (Dragon Age), Original Male Character(s), Varric Tethras, Cassandra Pentaghast, Leliana (Dragon Age), Josephine Montilyet, Iron Bull, Sera (Dragon Age), Vivienne (Dragon Age), Cole (Dragon Age), Dorian Pavus, Blackwall, Female Hawke, Rylen (Dragon Age), Original minor female characters, Solas (Dragon Age), Female Warden (Dragon Age), Morrigan (Dragon Age), Original Female Character(s), Female Cousland (Dragon Age), Dagna (Dragon Age), Mia Rutherford, Branson Rutherford, Rosalie Rutherford, Anders (Dragon Age) Additional Tags: Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Eventual Romance, Drama & Romance, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Lyrium Withdrawal, Lost Love, Character Development, Character Study, Past Relationship(s), Background Relationships, Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, Mages and Templars, Sexual Tension, Mutual Pining, Body Worship, Sensuality, Sexual Content, Canon-Typical Violence, Romance, Romantic Drama, happy couple, After the initial Angst, Found Family, Touch-Starved, Strangers to Lovers, Family Reunions, Angst and Romance, Dorks in Love Series: Part 1 of Dreams Summary:

Slowly, Cullen and Lydia fall in love. During the war at the height of the Inquisition, the former Circle mage and former templar discover during their romantic and eventual sexual exploration that they love one another as more than the Commander and Inquisitor, more than the rose that survived and endured the winter, and more than a forgotten goddess of old. Then war, like everything, ends. They dream of a dawn after the stars. *** The love story between Inquisitor Lydia Trevelyan and her Commander. As the Inquisition begins and unravels, so do their own personal struggles, issues, torrid pasts, and feelings for one another. Sprinklings of other characters here and there. Slightly diverges from canon. Rated E for later chapters.

[rileysfs]

Chapters: 28/? Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford, Female Lavellan/Cullen Rutherford, Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford, Lavellan/Cullen Rutherford, Cullen Rutherford/Original Character(s), Cullen Rutherford/Original Female Character(s), Female Inquisitor & Cullen Rutherford, Female Lavellan & Cullen Rutherford, Inquisitor & Cullen Rutherford, Cassandra Pentaghast/Rylen, Blackwall/Josephine Montilyet, Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus, Dagna/Sera, Anders/Female Hawke, Alistair/Female Amell, Zevran Arainai/Leliana, Past:, Regalyan D'Marcall/Cassandra Pentaghast, Female Amell/Cullen Rutherford, Female Hawke/Cullen Rutherford Characters: Female Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Female Lavellan (Dragon Age), Female Warden (Dragon Age), Female Hawke (Dragon Age), Female Amell (Dragon Age), Original Female Character(s), Cassandra Pentaghast, Leliana (Dragon Age), Josephine Montilyet, Cullen Rutherford, Varric Tethras, Solas (Dragon Age), Fen'Harel | Solas, Inquisition Soldier(s) (Dragon Age), Sera (Dragon Age), Vivienne (Dragon Age), Harritt (Dragon Age), Dennet (Dragon Age), Dagna (Dragon Age), Blackwall | Thom Rainier, Blackwall (Dragon Age), Gordon Blackwall, Cole (Dragon Age), Dorian Pavus, The Iron Bull (Dragon Age), Bull's Chargers (Dragon Age), Fiona (Dragon Age), Morrigan (Dragon Age), Alistair (Dragon Age), Isabela (Dragon Age), Zevran Arainai, Anders (Dragon Age) Additional Tags: Depression, Severe Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Suicide Notes, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Lyrium Withdrawal, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rape, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Past Rape/Non-con, Underage Rape/Non-con, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Smut, Smut, Angst, POV Multiple, POV Third Person, Present Tense, when my mind gives me an idea I just roll with it and see where it goes Series: Part 1 of Mina Lavellan's Inquisition Story Summary:

Mina Lavellan has suffered from severe depression since she was a child. One day, the troubled shapeshifter mage is sent physically into the Fade, only to emerge with a glowing green mark on her hand and accused of genocidal murder. Can Mina overcome the odds and be the hero and leader everyone needs her to be, or will the stress kill her/make her kill herself?

Meanwhile, love is in the air in the Inquisition. Follow several couples, including Mina and Cullen, as their romances bloom into something much more beautiful. With four hopeless romantics in the room (Mina, Leliana, Josephine, and Cassandra), teasing and red faces ensue. When more hopeless romantics enter the room (Dorian, Victoria Hawke, Isabela, and even the HoF, Raisa Amell-Theirin, among others), even more teasing and red faces ensue. --------------------------- More information in the first chapter.

If you see this anywhere besides AO3 (or anywhere where the username isn't some form of "RileySFS" (I have a fandom wiki and tumblr account that I will post links of this fic on)), it's stolen.

Updates every Saturday.

[degenerate-perturbation]

Chapters: 22/32 Fandom: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening, Dragon Age II Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Female Amell/Female Surana Characters: Female Amell, Female Surana, Anders, Velanna, Nathaniel Howe, Oghren (Dragon Age), Justice (Dragon Age), Sigrun (Dragon Age), Varric Tethras, Isabela (Dragon Age), Male Hawke (Dragon Age) Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Self-Harm, Blood Magic, Prostitution, Drowning, Wilderness Survival Series: Part 2 of void and light, blood and spirit Summary: Amell and Surana are out of the Circle, and are now free to build a life together. But when the prison doors fly open, what do you have in common with the one shackled next to you, save for the chains that bound you both? 

Loriel’s routine was by this point quite well-developed.

She woke at dawn, with the sun. Usually the light was enough to rouse her, but in case it wasn’t, she had a timed rune of frost under her bed set to go off half an hour after sunrise. On the rare occasions that she was inclined to laze in bed, it was enough to get her out of it.

Breakfast would be waiting for her, and it was never late. Loriel did not micromanage. Things in her Keep were done correctly the first time, or they were done by somebody else. Her breakfast varied little. One egg, hard-boiled; porridge, salty,  never sweet; fruit, whichever seasonal. She could draw some energy from the Fade, but repeated use of blood magic attenuated her connection to the Fade enough that she still needed to eat. Someday she would look into eliminating that need entirely, once her other obligations were met. She would eat on a balcony as the sun rose, less out of a desire to see the day begin, and more out of a removed knowledge that some sun was necessary for her health. Someday she would fix that flaw as well, but for now, if she had to waste time eating, she could at least get that out of the way while she was at it.

Within a quarter of an hour she would be at her desk. A stack of letters would be waiting there. She would skim them; few really required a personal response. The ones from Avernus, she put aside to deal with later.

When she finished with that, she would indicate for her seneschal to enter. Her name was Brigit; she was bright-eyed and fervent, relentlessly competent, utterly indispensable. She was most of the reason the Keep still functioned at all. She would be waiting outside the door, a cup of tea in hand. The tea—bitter, biting, oversteeped—was Loriel’s one indulgence. She would drink it and listen to the daily report. Brigit respected Loriel’s time, and began with what Loriel cared about—first, had there been any sign of the Architect? Second, had any Wardens begun to hear the Calling?  And third, had any been killed?

There was never any sign of the Architect. Most of the Wardens at Vigil’s Keep were far too new for the Calling. But every once in a while, there would be deaths. Loriel would ask for their names. She forgot them as soon as she heard them, but it was important she hear them.

The rest of the half-hour was an abbreviated exchange of questions and instructions. If there was anything that absolutely needed Loriel’s personal attention, Brigit would ask for it—but few things did. People needed or wanted the entity known as the Commander of the Grey, or the Arlessa of Amaranthine, or the Hero of Ferelden. Loriel held those titles by an accident of history; she had no personal characteristic that suited her for them.

Then Loriel would hand off any letters that needed replying to. Brigit could mimic her hand and her signature easily enough, and Loriel received far too much correspondence to deal with it all herself.

With the business of rulership out of the way, Loriel would descend to her underground chambers. She would work for ten or twelve or fifteen hours. If she tired early, she would sit and read. She avoided falling asleep underground—it was too disorienting. Each day she ascended, changed into the clothes left for her freshly laundered well in advance, cleaned her teeth, and slept. Once a week, she would bathe, whether she needed it or not—the alternative was to forget to bathe entirely. She did not bother to fall asleep naturally—there was a simple spell for that, and she saw no reason not to use it.

Her research went slowly. But it went.

And so the clockwork of her life ticked on.

tck

The work itself was going better than it had. 

Her methodology was much like her daily routine—plodding, relentless, as bland as it was efficient. She followed procedure, did what needed to be done, even if she had no appetite to do it. Her reams of close-written notes were meticulous to the point of exhaustion. She lived and breathed rigor. Almost everything she tried failed, and each failure was a step closer to success.

Eventually—something would work. 

A dim awareness fluttered in her mind that the bright scalpel of her mind was now little more than a crude cudgel, but what did it matter that she wasn’t brilliant? The work still got done. 

Her underground lab had grown from a single rough chamber to a warren of interconnected tunnels and specialized chambers. The Underkeep stretched nearly as far as the Keep above. In one room, the vastly expanded lab space, tables of glass devices and cabinets of reagents. In another, her library, swollen with tomes both common and rare, with her own notes and manuscripts and diagrams. Another room stood lined with cages holding dozens of creatures subject to her experiments—rats, it turned out, reacted very much like elves and humans to the Blight, and they bred fast. Lines of entropy enchantments lined their cages, keeping them in stasis until it was time for them to be of use. An underground stream provided water, wrested from the depths of the earth and channeled through pipes of stone. All of it climate controlled with her elegant runes. It was never too hot or too cold, never too wet or dry; no mold, no pests, no sunlight, save that which she made herself. 

And below that, another tunnel, deeper than the other, longer, and layered with more protections; it lead to the Deep Roads. She ventured there; sometimes for some purpose—to collect a sample, to check for deliveries from her friends beneath the earth—but most often simply to sit in the dark, to feel the miles of stone pressing down on her, and be empty of thought and of feeling and being. 

tck

One of the few reliable reasons that Loriel ever left her Keep was when she went to see Avernus. Letters passed between them frequently, almost entirely of a technical nature—what reagent could be used to evoke such and such reaction? What were the best ways to keep blighted flesh preserved for study? Where were the most promising leads to follow up on to search for lost Tevinter literature on the subject?—But often letters weren’t enough. So once or twice a year, Loriel would gear up and make the journey to Soldier’s Peak. She would stay there for a handful of weeks, making aggressive collaborative progress with Avernus until both their tolerances for other people dried up and Loriel returned to her Underkeep.

“I see you are still being unreasonable about human subjects,” Avernus sniffed on one such occasion, while they both watched a cauldron boil in silence. 

This was a frequent subject of complaints in his letters. “I see no reason in deliberately poisoning a well. Do you imagine the work would go faster if I was driven from my fortress with torches and pitchforks?

“Torches and pitchforks, hmph! As though peasants with torches and pitchforks are any threat to you.”

“Peasants, no. A Chantry army of Templars? A new Exalted March?”

“Do not tell me you still fear Templars. If that were truly your chief concern, you would not have let so many join your Order. ”

He was baiting her, and it wasn’t going to work. “I do not need to fear them to understand what is prudent, what is necessary, and what is not. The work will continue as it has.”

“And in the meanwhile, your Wardens will continue to die, because of what amounts to self-interest, hm? Because you fear the consequences of a little risk? Because you do not like to think of yourself the way you think of me?”

Bait. This was bait. She was too good to fall for bait. But Maker, Avernus could be really irritating in person. 

“I am working with you to cure the Calling,” Loriel said evenly. “To save my wardens from a terrible fate. What sense would it make to sacrifice their lives in order to save them?” 

Avernus snorted. “Very well, child, suit yourself. At your age I felt much the same.”

Something in the way he said child— not a word he often used for her, a word he clearly used now because he knew it would enrage her—sounded so much like Irving that she nearly lost control of herself. Who in the void did he think he was? If not for her grace, his desiccated corpse would be enriching the soil by now. She could have killed him when they’d first met. She could kill him now, if she wanted.

The old bastard watched her with a defiant, mocking eye, daring her to try. She could, couldn’t she? She was younger, faster, and yes, stronger. For all his experience, she had the more raw power to throw around. They had both seen battle, but his battles were a century old while hers were fresh and bleeding—and she’d bested him before. Granted, she hadn’t been alone then...but she was stronger now. Yes, she could kill him—

But the old blood mage was all she had.

“My title,” she said crisply, turning her eyes back to the slowly boiling cauldron, “is Commander.”

He rolled his eyes at her, and asked how her experiments with draconic gall had gone, and they spoke no more of it that day.

Avernus wasn’t all bad. He could be a cantankerous, amoral, belittling bastard, but he was clever, and not the worst to talk to. Sometimes he would be taken aback by her original ideas, rendered silent and thoughtful by her insights. Sometimes she would make a remark that seemed to her perfectly obvious, but which would send him consulting his notes and tomes, muttering under his breath. Each such instance left her smug and glowing for hours. Avernus never rendered praise—which she preferred—but this was better.

Pathetic, that she cared what he thought of her. And she did care. Commander or not, intellectual equal or not, she was his pupil. Avernus had plumbed depths of magic yet unknown to her, and his mind held secrets it would take her years to extract. And whatever his faults, he never lied, not about anything.

How badly she had wanted to please First Enchanter Irving as a child. How much she had lived for his praise, for his assurance that she was so bright, so special, so different from the other children. How pathetic he had looked when she had saved him from the Fade, how much she had hated his mealy-mouthed supplications to his Templar master. Each time she remembered it, she coated the memory with a fresh layer of poison.

Loriel was no fool, and she had no love for self-deception. She knew exactly what Avernus was, and what he was to her. But he, at least, was honest.

tck

Before she’d found Brigit, Loriel had managed intelligence of her keep with a network of enchanted crystals. Padding invisibly around her own Keep like a thief in te night would never have served for long. The crystals studded the halls of the Keep in unassuming braziers and in decorative sconces, transmitting everything that they saw and heard to a circle of polished silver in a dedicated chamber in the Underkeep. Crystals had special properties of resonance and purity that made them excellent for conveying sound. The real challenge had been getting crystals in a size and index that suited her. They didn’t occur naturally often enough to be worth harvesting, so she had had to figure out how to make them herself, with heated water and powdered minerals and careful spells of entropy to control their growth. It was finicky business; large enough to work, small enough to not be noticed, of just the right purity. The key was blood—her blood, connecting the network to the mirror and to herself. 

The next problem was how to limit the flow of information. The Keep was just too busy to monitor all at once. She’d had the thought to fix it by keying the crystal network to particular activation words, to keep from picking up on discussion of that evening’s dinner—but even then, it was too much. Loriel had lost hours to the mirror, hypnotized by every irrelevant word and image it sent. On bad days, it was all she did.

Three chief things Loriel learned from her mirror:

First: The kitchen girl she’d so thoughtlessly forced to forget her on the first day of her new life was never quite the same afterward. She often cried for no reason, couldn’t remember whole weeks of her life, and she didn’t know why. Her dearest friend—a scullery maid—would comfort her, let her weep into her shoulder, assure her that no, she wasn’t mad, that she needn’t give herself over to the mercy of the Chantry, that surely the Maker would send relief soon. 

Loriel regretted making her forget. She would not have done it, had she known it would break her mind. But neither did she indulge her guilt and shame. What a waste that would have been. Of course Loriel had hurt her—was that not entirely expected?

She knew perfectly well what she was. 

Second: Nearly everyone in the Keep she ruled feared her. Some hated her, some revered her, some loved her, but everyone feared her. 

That Loriel was a maleficar was not exactly an open secret. The new recruits didn’t know, and the old recruits weren’t sure or bold enough to tell them outright.

But oh, there were rumors.

Some seemed convinced that she had died long ago—that her seneschal had killed her, usurped her position, and only pretended to take her directives (after all, how long had it been since anyone had seen her? On these occasions Loriel occasionally made a point to appear briefly in the great hall). Others asserted that Loriel was the usurper, that the old commander had grown too popular and beloved and had planned to betray her, and so Loriel had betrayed and killed her first. Another version had it that Loriel kept the old commander imprisoned somewhere in the depths, chained up and tormented with blood magic. And that was well related to—

Third:   People still spoke of the old commander. Anytime something went wrong— the old commander never would have allowed this. The old commander would never have allowed the patrol schedule to change so inconveniently. The old commander never would have stood for substandard breakfast offerings. The old commander wouldn’t have tolerated this. The old commander would have kept us safe. The old commander cared. Many in the Keep were very confident on what exactly the old commander thought and felt about any subject on the sun you could care to name.

The first of Vigil’s Keep wardens were the worst about it. They gathered together some nights to play cards and drink, just the three of them, and the old commander would come up. Anytime the three of them met, Loriel would be there, too, invisible, intangible, unwanted. It was almost an addiction. Oghren would tell embarrassing stories from back during the Blight, and insist that he’d taught her everything she knew about fighting. Velanna always looked vaguely angry when this happened, but she listened anyway, and even asked questions, and many times Loriel caught her suppressing a genuine laugh. They’d wonder where she was, what she was doing. Sigrun would crack a forced smile and say, probably having a great time without us. They’d laugh. They’d miss her.

Loriel had never heard anything so insulting in her life.

In the end, the crystals turned out to be a mistake. It had been a fun project, but a wasteful one. One day she shattered the viewing mirror. If she really needed it, she could always make a new one, but for now, she was done. 

You couldn’t spend your life entranced by what you couldn’t have. You just couldn’t.

Anyway—she'd found Brigit by then. Brigit ran things better than Loriel could ever hope to. If Brigit made a popular decision, the Wardens all agreed that perhaps they were on the right track after all, with the Hero of Ferelden at the helm and all. If Brigit made an unpopular decision, the Wardens muttered that the old commander would never have stood for it, and if the Hero of Ferelden knew what was happening she would surely put an end to it.

Loriel herself rarely thought of the old commander. She had too much work to do.

tck

The first to go was Oghren. It had been for his own good. The Wardens had only ever been an escape for him, an excuse to wallow in his own refuse and avoid the wife and child he had been too weak to face. Well, no more. Loriel waited until he was sober, or as close as he ever came to it, to break the news.

“Go home, Oghren,” she’d told him. “Or don’t. Lay down in the gutter and finally drink yourself to death, if that’s what you really want. You can go wherever you want, but you can’t stay here.”

He’d sputtered, protested. Demanded to know why, and why now . Weren’t the Wardens supposed to take any old sod? Didn’t she have any respect for their long friendship? He’d kept an eye on her since she was naive little mageling fresh out of the Circle (now that was a funny joke) and now she was really just going to get rid of him? Just like that?

"Just like that," she confirmed, unmoved. “You don’t belong here. You have a family.”

He swore at her, so luridly that she was almost impressed. And then he calmed down. He called her a sodding waste of space, but his heart wasn’t in it. 

She made arrangements to have him taken care of. Supplies, escorts, whatever he needed. She wasn't a monster. She tried to be good to her people, when she could. She hoped he really did go back to his wife and child, though both their names escaped her at the moment. Of course she hoped for the best for him.

But she never did end up following up, and whatever became of Oghren Kondrat, Loriel never learned it.

tck

What was really surprising was how long Sigrun stuck around.

Loriel had assumed for years that Sigrun’s presence in her life was just on the verge of ending. They hadn’t been on good terms since the Dragonbone Wastes, and these days Loriel was not on good terms with anyone at all.

And even if Sigrun was too loyal and true to simply desert, she was foolhardy. She fought like she didn’t care if she died, because she didn’t. Each morning when Brigit recited the names of the dead, Loriel waited and waited to hear Sigrun’s name. That she’d died saving a fellow Warden, or charging a group of darkspawn to give the rest of her squad time, or that she’d simply not returned.

But Sigrun was still here.

How fitting for a dead woman to haunt her Keep, one who continued not to die. If Loriel didn’t know any better, she might have even thought that Sigrun missed Oghren, though Maker only knew why. If Loriel didn’t know any better, she might have even thought that Sigrun missed her, in some strange way. Of the original Wardens of the Keep, Sigrun was the only one who occasionally knocked on Loriel’s chamber doors, tentatively calling out her name and even waiting a few minutes before giving up. 

As though Loriel would tolerate her pity.

She hated to think of her. Hated to remember that she was still there at all, accusing Loriel of wrongdoing just by existing, even though she had no right at all to judge her. Hated to remember how much of herself she saw in the dwarf when she first saw sunlight.

Finally Loriel could take it no longer, and had Sigrun transferred to the Warden fortress in Orlais. Sigrun made only a cursory attempt to say goodbye, and within a blessed month, she was gone. 

tck

Velanna was the last to go.

Velanna was not her friend. She had never liked her, and tolerated her solely because Loriel represented something that Velanna wanted—justification for what had happened to her sister. But she had understood her, in her own way. For that reason alone Loriel half-expected her loyalty.

Even so, it was not altogether surprising when it happened.

Unlike the last time, Velanna did not succeed in barging through the door. The weave of enchantments on the door was far stronger than before. And Brigit was there to intercept her.

“I said, let me through. I know for a fact that she’s in there—you were just about to go in yourself. You go in there every day, I’ve noticed.”

“I am sorry, Warden, but the Commander expressly forbids visitors who have not been cleared beforehand. If you like, I can make your request today during my daily report.”

“I don’t think so.” A burst of unfamiliar magic rattled the door. Loriel was mildly impressed. It wasn’t anywhere near enough to get the job done, but that she had managed to affect it at all was impressive.

“Alright, fine. You don’t need to let me in but I know that you can hear me, so you are going to listen, whether there is a door in the way or not.” A furious inhale. “Has some demon taken your mind and driven you mad? You are not the woman I agreed to follow.” False. Velanna had never agreed to follow her at all.

“For what purpose do you exile your friends and surround yourself with enemies? Are you ignorant or foolhardy that this Keep is now full of Chantry fools and their attack dogs?” True, but flawed. Yes, the Vigil had a great deal more Chantry-faithful, as well as former Templars, in its employ, than before. But all Ferelden was full of Chantry fools and their attack dogs. All Loriel did was permit them the opportunity to die in the name of some higher calling.

“You aren’t doing any of this for us. You care nothing for us, if you ever did. Are you even trying to cure the Blight? Perhaps you are not!”

False. Loriel was trying. Of course she was trying.

“And if I am wrong—if a lick of what I have said is not true—then open this door and call me a liar to my face, you wretched cowardly betrayef." A beat.“Well?”

It sounded like Velanna really expected her to respond to any of that.

Loriel heard a final frustrated slam against the door, hammering footsteps, and then silence.

After a time, Brigit entered, trembling and hiding it. She alone had the enchanted, invisible ring which allowed the wearer to enter.

“I apologise deeply, Commander,” she whispered. “She overpowered me with magic. I was paralyzed.”

“I’m very sorry you had to experience that, Brigit,” Loriel said flatly, not looking up from the letter she was reading. “No lasting harm done, I trust?”

Brigit collected herself and inclined her head. “No harm done.”

“Good. Then, if you might proceed with your morning report…”

Velanna disappeared that day, and didn’t return. When no one had seen her in days and it became obvious that she had deserted, Brigit pressed the issue during the morning briefing. “Do you wish her hunted down and brought to justice?”

By the ever-so-delicate crease between her eyes, Loriel guessed that this was certainly what Brigit wished.

“No. It won’t be necessary.” She paused, considering. "But if she ever tries to return, do not let her."

[happywitch416]

Dragon Age Questions

I was tagged by @joufancyhuh thank you! This was fun! I’m gonna tag @kaleidoscopegirl @thesecondseal @rhetoricalrogue @lechatrouge673 @bugsieplusone @sasabelle-a and anyone else! Everyone else!

01) favorite game of the series?

DA2, hands down. I played DAI first and don’t get me wrong it’s a pretty game and a good game, but I love Hawke’s story. Someone who tries so hard and it’s never enough. I relate.

02) how did you discover Dragon Age?

I got a free copy of Inquisition with a new xbox, and honestly, hubs is the one who was oh it has dragons, Erin will like that! I wonder if he ever regrets that decision.

03) how many times you’ve played the games?

Origins- completely through 3 times? My dalish Elf who i didn’t even name her own name. Oops. Then my Arwen Tabris who smooches Zev and I actually have sorta fleshed out. I also have a Cousland and a dwarf that I never finished. I suffer from The Joining is Stupid syndrome.

DA2- I replay this constantly. I love Rose whether I am playing her as a mage or a rogue. I have played through with Selene twice maybe? I like all the choices! And how the choices change things! And well, Varric.

DAI- I’ve played through each race, as female, probably half a dozen times a piece. I really like being a Qunari lady, me and Sera swoon together. And it’s very different from other fantasy races I’ve played. And I love Val Cadash with her giant warhammer. The Iron Bull loves her too. Lol

04) favorite race to play as?

In all honesty? Elf. Elf me. Unless I’m playing Rose. Rose could never be an elf. So. But playing as a dwarf IS SO FUN and honestly far more relatable than playing a human.

05) favorite class?

For Origins and DA2, I prefer rogue. That being said, I hate playing rogue in DAI, so I mage it all the way.

06) do you play through the games differently or do you make the same decisions each time.

Depends on why I’m playing. For fun? I don’t care. For story plots? I keep it consistent unless I want to know how an action changes things (Hawke in the Fade :c). I do have playthroughs specifically for certain world sets too. Like World Asshole is basically thumbing the line of are my heroes even heroes anymore? Or just shiny monsters.

07) go-to adventuring group?

Origins- Zevran, Morrigan, Shale/Oghren.

Awakening- Valenna, Anders, Oghren.

DA2- Anders/Merrill, Isabella, Varric always. Rogues can tank if they try hard enough.

DAI- Varric, The Iron Bull, Viv or Dorian.

08) which of your characters did you put the most thought into?

Rose Hawke. Her past, present, and future is planned and mostly written. I adore her. She is how and why I discovered the how and why people write fanfic. And make headcanons. And Pinterest boards.

09) favorite romance?

VARRIC TETHRAS YOU COWARDS.

But in Origins, it’s Zevran. All day every day. I love me a character of questionable morals with a heart of gold. So complex, so murdery, so cute.

10) have you read any of the comics/books?

I think maybe I own them all? The books are a bit dry. But I love the comics. Superb art work, pretty good story telling. I read them mostly for lore reasons but they stay because they are good.

11) if you read them, which was your favorite book?

Until We Sleep

12) favorite DLCs?

Mark of the Assassin is just pure madness and Tallis makes me heart eye emoji. But The Descent and Jaws of Hakkon are my favorites. The music! The scenery! The stories!

13) things that annoy you?

I cannot romance Varric ever.

DAI’s gender and race locked romances. Some I get, Dorian and Sera because hi, representation matters. . But why can Cullen only romance elf/human ladies? Why on earth is Cass straight? The Iron Bull is only one who isn’t locked out of one thing or another and I love that. I love Bull. But like I feel we went meh good enough or something with the others. Especially after the everybody bangs everybody of DA2. Which was that trying to do a good or lazy writing? Dunno.

Fandom ruins a lot of things for me. I don’t want to take part in convos beyond my circle. Yikes.

Alistair. I get it, it’s tragic but ugh. I’m just too old for him. Same actually for Cullen, and for the above reason, Fandom. Yikes.

The Samson/Cullen thing they tried to replicate with Leliana and Calpurnia. It only worked for the boyos cause they are two sides of a coin. Unless Leliana is secretly a mage? Maybe she IS the ravens.

Consistent Canon doesn’t go here. They don’t even know who that is.

Why do you whitewash your own characters?

THE GODS DAMNED HINTERLANDS

I don’t want to kill the dragons. Let me recruit them.

Where the fuck is my Mabari: Inquisition Addition

14) Orlais or Ferelden?

KIRKWALL. Ferelden is quaint and Orlais is just gross. But has lots of shiny so it does rank higher than Ferelden.

15) Templars or Mages?

Mages, mostly because I want to dismantle the Chantry and continue the tradition of blowing it up. It’s bad. Templars just don’t have enough walking explosives for that.

16) if you have multiple characters, are they in different/parallel universes or in the same one?

I slap them all in the same verse if they are fleshed out in anyway. Rose Hawke and Val Cadash are best buds, business partners, and occasional bed warmers. Arwen Tabris is hiding from them at this point, she took that Warden Commander title and noped the fuck off around the world with Zev. She doesn’t want their drama too.

17) what did you name your pets? (mabari, summoned animals, mounts, etc)

I name the Mabari Hero. Let’s be honest, that mabari is the true hero of the first two games.

18) have you installed any mods?

I only started modding a few months ago and haven’t modded any of these yet.

19) did your Warden want to become a Grey Warden?

Arwen- Nope. But she really wanted to live, with that much blood on her hands it was join or hang.

20) Hawke’s personality?

She’ll help but she’s tired.

21) did you make matching armor for your companions in Inquisition?

If by matching you mean I dyed everything but the plaid weave of shame black then yes. Plaidweave is for liars.

22) if your character(s) could go back in time to change one thing, what would they change?

Arwen Tabris would kill Vaughan and his ilk at the wedding, not letting them take Shianni or the others.

23) do you have any headcanons about your character(s) that go against canon?

Rose Hawke is a rogue and a mage. Arwen Tabris is not getting married at the start of Origins. Val Cadash is still a respected member of the Carta while also being Inquisitor. Rose and Varric live happily ever after.

24) are any of your character(s) based on someone?

Rose is the one that has the most of me in her. The rest are just who they are.

26) favorite mount?

Dracolisks. Because the cowards make me kill dragons. Cowards!