#web the mabari

[inquisimer]

dragon age oneshot fic recs

@dreadfutures said that we should do more fic recs and she's absolutely right, so I'm starting what will hopefully be a series of fic rec lists, leading off with some oneshot recs! These are just standalone stories that don't require a big time commitment and definitely stuck with me after I read them.

Check them out! and leave a comment or kudos to let the author know you did 💜

Feel free to reblog this post and add your own oneshot fic recs! Or make your own fic rec post and tag me in it so I can read and promote your awesome recs :3

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My Lover's Phylactery by FrodaB

Cullen Rutherford/Female Inquisitor | G | 1472 words | No Archive Warnings Apply Author's Summary: She doesn't destory it Mer's Rec: this is an excellent piece that fills the gap DAI left (imho) about Trevelyan's phylactery! There's some excellent introspection from the Inquisitor and a bittersweet but somft and heartfelt ending between Cullen and his love.

Bent, Not Broken by spirrum (@spirrum)

Fenris/Female Hawke | G | 1595 words | No Archive Warnings Apply Author's Summary: In which Hawke doesn't run off to Weisshaupt, and an angry elf turns up at the Inquisition's door. Mer's Rec: this is a little slice of interpersonal relationships that beautifully captures Hawke's spirit! It starts with some platonic Hawke & Varric, perfectly encapsulating the exhaustion both of them feel after HLTA, and transitions smoothly into the heart-tugging reunion between Hawke and a frustrated Fenris who's very much in love.

last man standing (perhaps) by havvke (Wintertree)

Charade Amell & Carver Hawke & Female Hawke | T | 6749 words | No Archive Warnings Apply Author's Summary: Hawke’s teeth glinted when she grinned, except for the gap of her missing left dogtooth. Funny how they did that, even in such poor lighting. Glinting. Hawke barely seemed real. They’ve gone on a mission or two together since that initial, embarrassingly disastrous meeting, and it was still shocking that the woman lived up—if not surpassed—her nearly legendary status. Compared to the other missions Charade led with the Jennies, this was somewhat easier than her normal fare. But while Hawke was a known figure, and by technicality kin, Charade still didn’t know her. Mer's Rec: Okay, I'm admittedly biased toward this piece, because it was a gift for me as part of the 2023 Platonic Ideal Exchange. That being said, it is an INCREDIBLE work of sibling dynamics and I think of it whenever I think about Charade Amell. Havvke explores the relationship between Charade as a Red Jenny, Carver as a Grey Warden, and Hawke as...Hawke, in a beautiful web of complicated choices and found family. Over a year later, it still holds up as one of the best exchange gifts I've ever received.

Doggone by leggywillow (@leggywillow)

Alistair/Female Warden, Alistair & Anora Mac Tir, Alistair & Warden's Mabari | T | 3042 words | No Archive Warnings Apply Author's Summary: Alistair and the Warden are no longer together, but they still exchange letters - through Dog. Alistair struggles to find happiness in his life as king, but he isn't entirely alone. Mer's Rec: I read this one just recently and oh my GOODNESS it both made me laugh and also pulled at my heartstrings. Leggy alters the canon breakup between a King Alistair & the Warden to be somehow even more heartbreaking and the way that he talks to Dog is just so essentially Alistair, I could hear every line in his voice. Add to that several well done bits between Alistair & Anora and this piece absolutely delivers on the "sad" and "heartache" in the additional tags.

That Word You Call Me by thewitchofthewilds (gossamerstarsxx) (@saiyanshewolf)

Female Lavellan/Cullen Rutherford | T | 1768 words | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Author's Summary: The first time she tells him she loves him is the time he needs to hear it the most Mer's Rec: I love this piece for the intermingling of angst and fluff between Lavellan and Cullen. It leads in with one of the better descriptions of nightmare panic that I've seen and the way that Lavellan grounds Cullen from it is smooth and heartfelt, as is his reaction to her comfort. It caps off with some sweet fluff and a taste of human/elf relationships dynamics, for which I am a sucker, and which end the fic on soft, heartfelt note.

[purplecritter]

Dragon Age: Vows and Vengeance (Ep. 2)

Official episode transcript here

My notes while I was listening under the cut... Spoilers ahead!

Right off the bat: what is it with Dragon Age and all the cursed blades?!

“Creature of fire” + Harding using ice arrows specifically makes me think Rage Demon but if that’s the case, it’s cool that it’s talking I guess? Most of the talking demons have been Pride or Desire… Though it having minions is a bit 🧐

“By the Stone” & “Thank the Stone” did we ever know Harding thoughts re: religion? In DAI she did use “Maker only knows if he’s even still alive.” (The Threat Remains), and “Maker knows they’ll want help.” (HLTA, Crestwood) She’s a surface dwarf but maybe the exclamations remained as a casual cultural thing?

I was reading the wiki to see if this ^ is addressed at all and SHE HAD A MABARI????????? Fereldan wife material fr

“The tremors... The pain... The anomalies… The Veil grows thin, little one. Enjoy your victory, while it lasts. Your world is coming to an end.” So that’s the second reference to something going on underground (assuming it’s related to episode 1’s “People have been saying the ground be feeling like it’s gonna give”). I wonder if Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain were conscious while “trapped”? Are these tremors caused by them, and was Solas warned by his spirits that the Evanuris prisons were unstable? …Wow talk about taking a sentence and running with it. Watch this have 0 correlation lol

Uhhhhh so it’s interesting that Harding still uses “Inquisition Scout”! I don’t think V&V is set much earlier to DATV and I also don’t think they’d take a stance on the choice to disband in Trespasser (plus she mentions a “former Inquisition spy” later), so I believe that regardless she’s still attached to her title especially since she’s been so focused on hunting Solas!

WAHOO I love the imagery of a scout hunting for the (Dread) Wolf! And she subscribes to the “I can fix him” school of thought 🙂‍↕️ I think Ali Hilis (her VA) in an interview a while ago did say that among the befriend/banish/romance options she’d go for “romance” for Solas lol

Oof what if Harding has a little fear of the Fade after DAI 😭

I know they said Bellara and Lucanis will cook for the Veilguard but I 100% believe Harding has some good skills there

It’s interesting that Elio can keep track of Nadia (or at least that’s how I’m interpreting her continuing to hear him call out her name) while in the Fade! I wonder now if having a special object might act a little as a beacon? This might add a thick layer of angst for whoever was left after Here Lies the Abyss…

“Not to be cruel but hardly anyone survives the Fade” that was directed at me wasn’t it…

Raven’s Brook = new location mentioned! A small village/outpost perhaps?

Mh okay so Veil is thin because we have a cult. Cool cool, so why did the cult form? 👀

“Nu es fyr geirum // Grar upp kominn // Vefr, verbjooar…” chanted by the cultits. I don’t recognize this as similar to any of Thedas’ languages? But a google search leads to an anonymous poem from Middle Ages Scandinavia. For those who want to look it up: Anon Darr 1V (Nj 53). If anyone can provide a translation I’d love to see, I was only able to translate it from the swedish wikipedia article. The whole poem should be: “The web is taut / to alert of manfall, / from the cloud tap of the boom / it rains blood. / Now over the spear / the gray is tense / the warp of the life thread / which weavers' shoes fill / with that of the Valhalla god / reddest weft.” (bolded the parts that are chanted in the episod)

The mayor & the townsfolk collaborating with the cultists to be spared, remind me a little of Sahrnia (Emprise du Lyon) in DAI (the town's leader sold the inhabitants to the Red Templars in exchange for supplies)

The Deathless One will be pleased by the human sacrifice. “You know what will happen if the Deathless One goes Hungry”. “To the Deathless One! I shall live forever!”. “The moon’s still dark, maybe there’s time” “The Deathless One looks forward to your [Nadia’s] blood in particular” “We do what we do because we must [...] I  will enjoy the look in your eyes when the sky opens up, and the last thing you see is the Black City shimmering on the horizon.”

I am heavily Disliking this “you’ve been marked” and “serving the Deathless One is the greatest honor a mother can have” and “don’t let my daughter get marked” and “take all the children”

Oh Drayden’s got a mouth on them. “I shall grow on you like an Elfroot” I NEED MORE THEDAS PICKUP LINES. Also there's way too much attention on them and their banter with Nadia for them to not be a persistent/recurring character, like I imagine the rivals to begrudging allies to friends to romantic tension (one sided or not)

I like that Nadia’s recklessness isn’t just a random trait but it’s motivated by her resenting people for not acting when her mother was sentenced to death. I’m looking forward to see if in her arc here she’ll learn to act in more “subtle” (?) ways or if this impulse will get her in trouble more!

Drayden got grenades?! I assume it’s more similar to the ones we got in previous games rather than with gunpowder because I don’t think the Qun would be quite so reckless to write down the recipes for Gaatlok in random books lol. Still impressive tho

My mage-senses are tingling for Drayden but it might just be because we don't have enough nerds in Thedas that aren't also mages 😔

VARRIC NAMEDROP. “We got something brewing and he needs my help.” so this might be right before The Missing or they’re hinting at the prologue of DATV!

Final thought: I'm very 👀 at the title referencing the cult of the doom blade while in the episode they don't reference any particular doom blade, just this Deathless One. Might be a red herring with how prominent the red lyrium & blue lyrium blades have been, but I expect this to come up again in the podcast or the game

[orxna]

Orana falters, not because she doesn't want to leave, but because she almost doesn't believe it's possible. It is not as if Tevene has leverage on her per se, there are no hostages awaiting a blade across the throat if she leaves it only--Where is there for her to go--until he suggests--

"Kirkwall. I-I want to go home."

She thinks of Varric, of the estate, of Loup who ripped a man's hand clean from his wrist when they came to take her. Who only fled when she demanded it, told him to go and get Aveline. She had hoped he would succeed but she had also sent him away with a bleeding hock that made his arthritic gait even more sluggish. The mabari would have died in her defense and she was so tired of death.

She hopes that Loup, ancient and slobbering, is still alive. Hopes that he and Celly might get along.

Her movements are swift but stuttering, unsure of what is worth bringing and what she will leave. None of these things are hers really, they're all gifts for her gilded cage. Only--Only Celene is hers, because Celene was trained with her in mind. Orana had been brought to the litter of small creatures, squalling and helpless. The pup had wriggled into her lap, away from the warmth of her mother and siblings and at that moment something in Orana had untwisted.

Moving quickly, Orana grabs Celene's lead and slips it over her head. She's careful to adjust it, tightening it so that if Celly is startled by whatever they face she cannot slip her leash and be lost. Next she finds a proper nightrobe, one of a teal so dark and rich she thinks it may blend into the night better than her other fair. If Solas is correct she doesn't have time to truly change so she simply shrugs it over her nightgown.

She lingers in one corner as she gathers two pairs of comfortable slippers and several pairs of knitted socks, looking at the spiders she has allowed above her dresser. Always shooing her maids when they have tried to brush away their web. A second thing that had been hers, however small, but these she cannot take with her like Celene.

"Goodbye, little friends." She whispers, hoping someone will think to be kind to them when they tear apart her rooms for clues to her disappearance.

She slips her feet into the sturdier pair of shoes, she hopes they will not be walking too much but is not particularly optimistic. Solas has boots on his feet. It's almost comical that brings her nearly more dread than his outreached hand. Where will they be treading that even the Dread Wolf thinks it important to protect his feet? Her own are no longer callused but still so heavily scarred, she hasn't walked much further than the courtyard and back without rest in years.

She fashions a makeshift bag with a stray blouse and adds another pair of house shoes. Her mind skitters over the only other things worth taking. Her sewing box she empties into the bindle, knowing she doesn't have time to be precise even if it makes her cringe. Lastly she grabs a handful of her ornamental jewelry, what had been laid out for her to wear the next morning. She has no particular attachment to the lovely set of earrings, necklace, bracelets, and rings but she has no coin to her name and they would be better than nothing.

Her hound watches her curiously, this is perhaps the most frenzied movement she has seen from her mistress outside of a pacing spell. Her path is not repetitive so Celene allows her to continue without interceding. Of course, she keeps a careful eye on the interloper, apparently not a stranger if her Mistress is so calm with his presence but still out of place within their space.

"Celene, walk. With me."

The hound snaps to attention at the commands, picking up the end of her own lead with a soft mouth and pushing it into Orana's waiting hand. The elf twists the lead around her wrist and loops one finger through the slack. Normally she would fasten the lead to a belt at her waist but should they need to run or move quickly it seems unwise to tether herself so. So the pair settle into a secure hold and a close heel as they move to fall in step beside her elder.

"I--I am, ah," She almost says she is ready but that would be a lie that even a stranger could see through, never mind a man who was once a close confidante, "I have everything worth bringing, I think."

Is he hurt.

“No,” he said simply, at last slipping back into Common. He resisted the urge to place his hand over hers, to reassure her with gentleness rather than the press of time. “This blood is not mine.”

He felt the whispers of the ancient binding ritual wisp around her, and despite his regret, the fact of Mythal’s death at his hand for once gave him comfort. The benefits of the Well manifested themselves in her without the god behind them to pull the strings. Yes, Mythal had been the best of them, but he knew all too well the cost of being bound to another, ‘god’ or otherwise.

Her hesitation twisted his heart, but now was not the time for warring emotions. He had once told her that he did not wish for her to see what he would become. And yet, here they stood, a chasm between them despite their close proximity to one another. He had found her, but liberation was still out of their grasp. He lowered his proffered hand, and slipped back into cold indifference.

“We are leaving,” he said, and it wasn’t an invitation but a declaration. “I will take you as far as the Frostbacks if you’d return to Skyhold, or to Kirkwall if you prefer. But we are leaving.” His focus was on her, but also the sounds of the hallway, the courtyard, and finally the streets that mean shadow and safety. The alarm bell had provided the chaos of distraction, but he had not fooled himself into thinking it would last forever. The guard would regroup, the mages enhance with lyrium, and their cohort would soon descend on their escape attempt. They needed to flee.  

“My friends hold the courtyard, but we cannot tarry. They are as at risk of discovery as we are.” He reached out for the feeling of Valor and Justice. They would need to flee before the mages tried to bind them. He’d given them that direction. No one here would be bound again, and though he did not wish to force the issue with her, given what she’d been through, a firmer hand may be necessary.

“Gather your things if you must,” he said, with another sidelong glance at the dog. “We have but moments.”

[pigeonwithapen]

[Image ID: An edited tweet to make it look like it’s by Alistair @Swoopingisbad. It says : “Ah yes. Me. My wife. And her 200lb, four foot long Mabari war dog.” The image below is of Alistair and Warden Surana in bed, with her hugging a very big and grumpy looking Mabari in her sleep. End ID] I made this and completely forgot it in my drafts oop. pls enjoy.

[lasatfat]

Steps of Faith

also on AO3

Cullen

“True love in this differs from gold and clay,

That to divide is not to take away.”

Percy Bysshe Shelley

Commander Cullen Rutherford can often be found walking along the battlements of Skyhold. He’d made a habit of making the journey at least daily, to look over their surroundings, and deal with any concerns from the guard. He’d found, however, that it made for a decent method of stress relief. It’s not uncommon for him to take the trip three or four times in a day. His record is seven. That was the day the Wardens arrived.

There were two of them. Every Warden in Ferelden and Orlais had vanished, and yet here they had two. And lo and behold, it had to be the two Wardens with whom Cullen had personal history. The Maker has a cruel sense of humour indeed. He only has vague memories of Alistair Theirin, from behind a filmy barrier of magical energy. But his wife…he knows her alright. He’s known her since he was nineteen. Eireann Surana, the Hero of Ferelden.

He’d hated her. Andraste preserve him, he’d hated her for what happened. She’d been able to walk away, from Kinloch Hold, from the abominations and the demons, from the Templars and their Order.

“Come with me,” she’d said. Pleaded. “The Templars won’t help you. You’re more useful to them scared.” But he’d been too proud to listen, too reluctant to admit that the life he’d been building since he was ten was falling apart around him. The woman he loved had tried to save him, and he had turned her away.

And away she went. She united Ferelden, she fought an Archdemon, and she saved the world. More than that, she built her own world. She fell in love. She had a daughter, a scant few months after the Blight ended, and her birth had been quite the cause for celebration. She grew up, and Cullen was stuck.

So he’d grown to hate himself. Oh, he hates himself for falling into Meredith’s web of lies and deceit, and the abhorrent things he’d done as a result. But before that, he had hated himself for what happened at Kinloch. For not saving his friends. For not dying in their place. For not running from the Order when he had the chance.

For hating her.

He had prayed to the Maker that she wouldn’t seek him out. She’d been so kind to him once. What would she think of what he became?

 *

Today, the white sky is heavy with snow threatening to fall. A cruel wind whistles through the narrow windows of the outer battlements, and rattles the glass panes in most of the others. Skyhold is, however, impossibly warm, as it always is. The heat seems to radiate out of the earth itself.

There is a part of Cullen that will always belong to the lyrium, and that part of him can feel the magic in the stones of this place, a barely noticeable prickle deep inside his skull. He doesn’t know how the fortress will stand up to a snowstorm, however. He’d risen a good hour before the Sun, and been sat at his desk making plans for such weather ever since. There is so much work to be done. Fuel and food must be gathered, fires stoked, chimneys inspected, holes in walls repaired. Each soldier, scout or labourer to enter his office leaves with a sizeable to-do list and a newfound resentment for their commander. Let them be angry, he thinks. It’s better than freezing to death.

Kali drops in at a more reasonable hour, bringing with her freshly-baked rolls, a knob of butter, apples, and two cups of hot tea. She always makes time to eat with him; even in Haven, before they began a courtship, she would bring food to the training fields and eat with him and Samson. Her dog, a mabari-wolf hybrid who answers to Fen, was ever her shadow. True to form, he lumbers into Cullen’s office, close to his master’s heels. When he thinks of the young pup that had so alarmed him in Haven, it amazes him just how much Fen has grown.

Kali sets the tray down on a corner of his desk, one that he purposefully tries not to clutter. “I hope it’s alright,” she says, before he can thank her. “I wasn’t sure if you liked butter on your bread, so I just put it on the side there, and…”

He halts her with a feather-light kiss on her cheekbone. The attack on Haven left her with a broken nose, among other injuries, and though the swelling and bruising had since gone down, the gentleness remains a habit. “Thank you. It’s perfect.”

Kali usually finishes breakfast before him, if only because his attention is split between his food and his work. The meal takes place in comfortable silence. Finally, she kisses his cheek, drawing his focus back to her. She has the most captivating eyes. The colour of honey, they shine slightly in the flickering light of the candles.

“I’m sorry, I can’t stay,” she says. She apologises far too often, and for far too little. “I have some work to do for Lady Montilyet, and I promised Cole I’d help put out food for the cats. I’ll try to be back here with lunch.”

She always seemed determined to befriend everybody in the Inquisition, including the mysterious apostate, the Tevinter mage, and now even a possible demon. Though, as Cullen often reminds himself, many in Skyhold would consider him bad company, too.

“You know where to find me.”

 *

It is midday before Cullen allows himself another moment to breathe. He turns to the window. The furthest mountain peaks are obscured by clouds, the slightest silhouette casting a darker shade of grey upon the mist. He takes in a deep, calming breath, and the anxious knot in his gut loosens just a little.

The door creaks open behind him. “Ah, good timing, soldier,” he says, brusquely. He turns around, but doesn’t look up. Instead, he starts to rummage through the papers on his desk; there’s a report here somewhere that will be useful. “I’m sure you know, several of the forward scouts have reported a storm heading in our direction. We should look into bringing our farmers into the village proper. It will be much easier to ensure their safety here, and we can consult with them on how best to protect their livestock…”

“Right you are, Commander.”

His head snaps up. There stands not a scout, but the Hero herself.

It catches him off-guard, how completely ordinary she is. She is just a woman, in a Warden’s armour, her hair tied up in a scarf of blue and orange. But she’s the stuff of legend. How can she just be here, as if it’s nothing? Cullen’s stomach falls somewhere into the region of his knees. He deserves every angry word, every insult, every blow she throws his way. But there’s a smile on Eireann Surana’s face when she looks at him, one he’s done little, if anything, to deserve.

“Hello, Cullen,” she says. And suddenly he feels very, very small.

“H-hello.” He immediately feels embarrassment clench his gut. She laughs, but not unkindly.

“The more things change,” she chuckles.

“Quite.” He rubs the back of his head. “You look well.”

And she does. Her face is fuller, as is her figure. She has built muscle where once there were only angles and sharp edges. But more than that, she has smiled more often and with more sincerity in the past few days than she ever did in Kinloch Hold. She is so far from the lonely, angry, painfully thin eighteen-year-old he’d known in the Circle. She’s happier, and he is so glad of that.

Maker, she is so beautiful.

Still, when she looks at him, there’s a melancholy in her eyes that he can’t decipher. “Would you think me cruel if I said you didn’t?”

It’s his turn to chuckle. “No. I would think you honest.” His hand rises to rub at the back of his neck, which does little to alleviate his discomfort. “I was about to inspect the battlements,” he says. At this point, it’s his go-to move for stress relief. “Would you care to walk with me?”

Eireann smiles, and gestures towards the door on her right. “Lead the way.”

Outside, the air is crisp and fresh, a welcome change from his office. He pauses to relay some orders to a pair of scouts, both of whom offer a salute to Eireann as well as their commander. She must be aware of the stares she’s attracting from all and sundry, but she takes them all in stride. She even waves at one of the scouts; the man looks as if he’s about to faint. She laughs to herself.

“I have often thought about what I would say to you, if we were to meet again,” he says, haltingly. Though he’d always assumed in his imaginings that she would be furious with him. It’s somewhat jarring to see her looking back at him with little more than polite interest in her expression.

“Oh?” she says.

“I owe you an apology,” he begins. That much is true, but how can any apology be adequate? “The things I said to you, in the Circle Tower…”

“Cullen, I don’t…”

“You don’t hold it against me,” he finishes. “You said as much ten years ago. But the things I said were inexcusable. I apologise, unreservedly.”

Eireann looks like she’d rather like to argue, but must decide better of it, because she nods, and smiles. “Very well. I forgive you, Cullen.” However grudging it is, it’s a relief to hear. A weight has been lifted from his shoulders, one he did not realise was still so heavy.

Presently, they come to the far end of the battlements, in the shadow of the north tower. Renovations are already underway to convert it into a dedicated mage tower. Many in Skyhold have reservations about the project – Cullen himself had been opposed to it, initially – but Inquisitor Lavellan reasoned that magical experimentation needed to take place at Skyhold, and a mage tower would provide a safe environment for such testing. Perhaps it will serve the function he believed the Circle did, in another life. One he wishes he had never lived.

“You were right,” he says, eventually. Quietly. “You were right about everything.”

“I really hoped I wouldn’t be,” she says, mournfully.

“Another apology I owe you,” he admits. “I didn’t listen.”

Eireann shakes her head. “I didn’t think you would leave the Order. Not really. But you were my friend, or something like. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I didn’t try. And…after what happened, I suppose I felt responsible.”

“Why?” he blurts. A foolish question. He knows the answer the instant he says it. She turns her head away, staring at a point on the stone wall, though he suspects that she isn’t seeing it at all.

“It used my form.”

It did, and it didn’t. It had the shape of her face, the colour of her skin, the texture of her hair. It learned, after a few attempts, to mimic her freckles and errant cowlicks. But it was always too perfect. It never replicated the acne on her nose, or the slight inward slant of her front teeth, or the chicken pox scars on her jaw – those little things that you notice about a person that make them whole and real. When it appeared to him, it drove the shadows away from him with a wave of its hand. A hand it then held out to him. I’m here now, Cullen, with you. You’ve been so brave, my love. My knight in shining armour. You can let go, now. Let me take care of you. He banished it away. But each time it returned, with each gentle caress or kiss or sweet word whispered, his resolve would weaken. It would take him longer to stop the demon. And each time, the demon would do more.

And then another Eireann had come to his rescue, covered in blood, eyes wet and wild with a terrific fury. She didn’t cast the demon out with a graceful wave of her hand. Her movements were sharp and harsh. She pulled the demon away from him with magic, but when she killed it, it was with blunt physical force. She rained down blow after blow with her staff, until the demon was dead and twitching. She spat on it; he remembers that detail vividly, for some reason. He knew then that she was real, but it wasn’t until he tried and failed to will her away that he really believed it. He’d been saved.

He has no clue how to articulate all this, however, or even if he ought to say anything at all. She had carried it with her all this time. He had hated her for nothing.

“It was not a good likeness,” he says, eventually.

She is silent, for a while, and he starts to think he may have offended her, somehow. But she smiles, a beautiful, kind-hearted smile, and rests her left hand on his arm. A livid scar splits the back. He finds himself wishing that he could find whoever put it there, and reply in kind.

“Perhaps we can start again,” she says. “Be friends, like anybody else.”

We aren’t like anybody else.

“I’d like that,” he says, instead. Though, he realises, Kali will be meeting him soon, if she can find a spare moment for lunch. “But I’m afraid I have an appointment to keep.”

“Oh, is this with Kali?”

Cullen blinks in surprise, but quickly deduces what must have happened. “Leliana told you?”

“That she did,” Eireann replies, with a mischievous smirk. “I’m catching up on all the gossip. I also have it on good authority that the Iron Bull is not, in fact, a bull made of iron.” Cullen chuckles, and she seems pleased with that reaction. “I’d like to meet Kali. I mean, not right this minute, but I’d like to meet her. I think she’s been good for you.”

“I think you’re right,” he says. As much as he hates to burden her – she already takes far too much onto her shoulders – Kali has been a great comfort to him over these past months. She may not be able to take away the cravings for lyrium, or the pain in his joints, or the migraines, but she stood beside him as he fought it all, and never wavered. She has made him stronger.

Eireann nods. “I’ll come back in a few days, once we’re settled in. Then we can have a proper catch-up.” She brings her legs together, pressed tight, and salutes. “Commander Rutherford.”

He chuckles, and bends at the waist. “Warden-Commander Surana.” She grins, and makes for the stairs to the courtyard. When she turns to go down them, facing him again, she waves one last time before she disappears from view.

Cullen, however, does not return to his office. He walks to the outer wall of the ramparts, leaning against the stone as the world reels around him. He thinks about praying, but bringing this before the Maker feels sacrilegious. Insulting, even. Instead, he stares out at the fields and the heavy grey sky, as if reason might fly at him from out of the aether. Of course, it doesn’t. He is alone with a frightening realisation, a truth that could tear down everything he has built.

Cullen Rutherford is still completely, stupidly in love with Eireann Surana.

[syn0vial]

The Official Star Wars Fact File: Zam Wesell

(Unofficial translation by me, syn0vial. Please forgive me for any mistakes, I've studied Spanish for some years but it's definitely not my first language!)

Zam Wesell was an exceptional figure that belonged to an equally exceptional species, the Clawdites. The bounty hunter was an unorthodox and extraordinary being who left a mark with her short life and career.

The Clawdites have always been oppressed and never been trusted. It is something that is accepted as natural in life. Their society arose due to a gene therapy that cured a sickness, but also created a new species, condemned to be exiled from the principle habitable zone of the planet Zolan. All Clawdites can change the color of their skin, but only a few are capable of altering the texture of it, and there are even fewer that can change its shape. Only a small number—very capable beings, dedicated and with great self-control—could take the form of another being for an indefinite period of time.

Shape-shifting results in great pain and discomfort for a Clawdite; they must use oils and ointments to stop their skin from becoming horribly cracked. Yet, in contrast to even the best of her species, Zam Wesell could not only change form with relative speed, but could maintain it while resting.

Combat Training

In Zolan society, those that deviated from the rigid secular norms were persecuted. Clawdite society was less restrictive, but even they showed apprehension about some of Zam Wesell's activities.

In the semi-anarchic society on the Clawdite-dominated continent of Sultur, where Zam was born and raised, the clans were governed by warriors known for their boastfulness. In general, the strongest prevailed, but even the boastful owed loyalty to their clan. Among them all, the best warriors of Zolan were the Mabari knights. They were part of a religious order that would not admit sinners among their novices. The religion of Zolan preached that the untruthful were the worst sinners of all. Despite this, Zam, when she was with them, successfully hid her true nature long enough to reach the third level of mastery in the Mabari martial arts, before being forced to flee Zolan.

Zam relocated to the corporate planet of Denon, where skills like hers were in great demand. The corporate security organizations always needed new employees and with Zam's shape-shifting ability, it didn't take much for her to ascend to the rank of sergeant. Nevertheless, this was only the beginning of her career. She calculated each step with utmost care; in this way, she quickly rose to become a very well-paid corporate bodyguard.

She was a self-proclaimed "progressive" and never forgot her planet and her people. She always sent huge sums of credits to Zolan, to radical Clawdite groups dedicated to the emancipation of their species; it is unknown whether she was truly invested in the situation of her species or if she only wished to provoke unrest.

Outlawed: Zam Wesell's journey before she became a bounty hunter was a winding one. She was denounced on her home-planet, Zolan, for being Clawdite and even more so, for her ability to shape-shift. After learning martial arts in a religious sect of warriors called Mabari, she abandoned her planet.

Clawdite Assassin

Since leaving Zolan for Denon, Zam Wesell had accepted work that provided huge profits and little excitement. Not much happened before she left her job as a bodyguard and sought a change of scenery.

Her experience in the risky world of industrial espionage on Denon had perfected Zam's deadly skills, while also allowing her to develop a web of contacts, financing, and gear to start her career in earnest. Finally, she could establish herself as a bounty hunter. She had adopted as her identity the appearance of a short, attractive female human, as a means of securing more work and hiding her true Clawdite face. With practice, although not without pain, she managed to maintain this appearance even while sleeping. She also adopted a uniform, a purple jumpsuit that could adapt to both her human and Clawdite forms, and that helped protect her skin.

Above the jumpsuit, she wore a flexible armored doublet and a protective skirt. The skirt's connected segments concealed an impact-absorbing system that offered protection against attacks from behind. Her helmet had its own light and incorporated a commlink under the veil that hid her face. In the heat of combat, her true Clawdite face could emerge, which the veil helped hide. Zam's belt had a series of compartments and essential devices for her profession, including the holster for her KYD-21 blaster. In front of her doublet, she carried a small respiratory device. These tubes inserted into Zam's body and allowed the device to function through her lungs if it was required by the atmosphere. The uniform came complete with a certain number of Mabari objects, among them an ancient cape clasp, an emblem on her helmet, and combat gloves. All these objects were ingraved with inscriptions from sacred Mabari texts.

We're bounty hunters, Zam, not heroes: The partnership of Zam and Jango Fett began long ago, long before she was contracted to kill Padme Amidala. The two bounty hunters respected each other. Zam had the honor of knowing the son of Jango, Boba Fett.

Elite Assassin

It was fated that the paths of Zam Wesell and Jango Fett would meet, but it would prove a very dangerous crossing.

Zam Wesell was considered one of the best bounty hunters of her generation, and she believed it. So it was logical that she would come to be known by Jango Fett, considered the number one in their profession.

One of their first encounters [Syn's notes: preceded five years by their true first encounter in the game Star Wars: Bounty Hunter] took place after Antonin Vigo, of the Black Sun, contracted Zam to kill Dreddon the Hutt. She took the form of a red-headed slave and successfully carried out the mission. Just as she was about to take her leave, Jango Fett appeared. Zam discovered that she was not going to be paid, nor was Jango, who had taken out Antonin at the behest of Dreddon.

Zam and Jango both knew of each other's reputations. The mutual respect that they had and their simiar ethics led them to allow one another to go on their way. However, the two would meet again shortly afterwards when a dug named Fernooda contracted Zam.

We've Got To Stop Meeting Like This: Zam and Jango were contracted to recover an ancient artifact. She let him do all the hard work; then ambushed him and made off with the idol.

Jango, you're always complaining about my shapeshifting: The mutant power of a Clawdite was very useful in her work and elongating her arm to grab hold of the idol that both she and Jango Fett were searching for. [Syn's notes: The presentation of this information is a little misleading. Zam catching the idol like this occurred well after this job for Fernooda, when both Zam and Jango were working together to keep Fernooda's boss from using it in a terrorist attack.]

I know that there's a man under that mask: Zam managed to get closer than anybody to the mysterious Jango Fett, with the exception of his son Boba. Even so, she knew that a relationship between them would affect her work, and thus decided not to push it further.

It was an awkward situation, since Fernooda had assigned the job to Jango, but had decided to ensure its success by also contracting the Clawdite. The aforementioned mission involved recovering an idol that had been in the possession of Fernooda's boss. Zam, who knew that Jango had also been contracted, let her rival do the dirty work before springing an ambush. This time, she insisted on seeing the face of the man under the mask. She was so transfixed on him, that she didn't realize there was an enormous insect, the guardian of the idol, about to attack her.

Without knowing why, Jango came to Zam's rescue and, recognizing that she was in his debt, she allowed him to leave with Fernooda's idol. Thus began the strange and exceptional relationship, even friendship, between Jango Fett and Zam Wesell. [Syn's notes: As mentioned earlier, their association truly began with the events of Star Wars: Bounty Hunter, but perhaps this is the point things got a little more personal between them.]

Partners: Without a doubt, Zam and Jango worked well as partners. The question was whether they were willing to let their affection become more important than their work.

Mutual Empathy

Although it was nearly inevitable that Zam Wesell and Jango Fett should encounter one another again, the first reunion that occurred between the two bounty hunters did not go as either had expected.

At first glance, the mission seemed simple. It involved an assignment that Vigo Antonin, of Black Sun, had given to Zam Wesell, and the contracts from this organization were always lucrative. Certainly, the jobs offered to bounty hunters of Zam Wesell's level were never easy.

The target was Dreddon the Hutt. It was never a good idea to threaten Black Sun business and Vigo Antonin wanted to make an example of him. Zam used all the resources at her disposal to investigate and infiltrate Dreddon's organization. Her Clawdite powers allowed her to adopt the form of a human dancer that appealed to the Hutt. She needed all her concentration to maintain this form during a prolonged period, but Zam was very good at what she did. The disguise completely fooled Dreddon. Hutts are very difficult to kill.

Poisons and blasters could not guarantee that Dreddon wouldn't have time to call for his guards, so, to end his life, Zam restrained herself to placing a microbomb hidden in one of Dreddon's amphibian snacks when he was about to enjoy a private performance from his favorite dancer. The result was somewhat chaotic, but decisive.

A Private Affair

Just when she was about to leave, Zam heard someone approach. She grabbed her blaster and hid, waiting to see who could be intruding on her mission. She was almost happy to see Jango Fett, the most infamous bounty hunter in the galaxy, next to the corpse of his client.

Zam had successfully completed her mission and would soon receive a rich reward for her troubles. What's more, she could make fun of Jango Fett for the murder of his client. She had him at her mercy, pointing at him with her blaster, knowing who he was and what he was capable of.

Unfortunately, Zam's good humor soon went up in smoke. Jango had returned from completing a contract for Dreddon: killing Vigo Antonin! Thus, neither Zam nor Jango would be paid. Fett took the first opportunity to draw his blaster and with that both bounty hunters were in the same bind.

Zam was the first to lower her blaster, with her trademark style. With a twirl and a grin, she pointed out that the problem was that neither of them wanted to make the first move. She then flounced off, leaving Jango alone with his thoughts.

It's a weird rock: The artifact that Fett and Wesell had to recover was an idol that, as they would discover, bestowed mysterious powers upon its owner. [Syn's notes: ...If "mysterious powers" means "ownership of extremely explosive chunk of rock," then yes, that is correct.]

A New Contract

However, Zam needed work. The matter with Dreddon had left her without anything to show for it. A dug named Fernooda offered a contract shortly after she returned to her base of operations, but he warned her that he had already contracted another bounty hunter for the job in question: Jango Fett.

Zam readily accepted the job, since it seemed simple. Recovering a little statue from the natives of the jungle planet Seylott that had been stolen from Fernooda's boss. She had already decided to let Jango do the dirty work and ambush him at the temple's exit.

Jango's Revenge

It seemed that this time, Zam Wesell had won. She even managed to get Jango to remove his Mandalorian helmet. The scarred face she saw was handsome, if a bit gloomy. Then, a huge carnivorous insect attacked Zam from behind. The other bounty hunter ignored Zam's cries for help, taking the statue and running.

My client offered 50,000 Republic credits: The paths of Wesell and Fett crossed once again when the dug Fernooda contracted them to recover an object that the natives of Seylott had stolen from his boss. Immediately, the instinctive sense of rivalry returned between the two bounty hunters.

Heroes of Coruscant

Zam thought that she was doomed, Jango Fett had taken off, leaving her to be devoured by the enormous monster on Seylott.

While fighting to escape, Zam was surprised to see Jango return. He told her to take out all the explosives that she had on her and prepare to detonate them. Zam didn't have much option but to trust him, although she wasn't sure that he wouldn't get both of them killed. Fortunately, Fett's jetpack got them out of trouble. Zam picked up Jango's helmet from amidst the smoke and the dust left from the creature's destruction, gave it to him, and allowed him to take Fernooda's idol; afterwards, she turned and left, smiling as she told Jango to take care until next time. There would be a next time, Zam assured her rival, although this didn't seem to bother Fett.

However, Wesell wasn't satisfied. She had heard rumors here and there, and soon learned the truth about her mission on Seylott. The idol had been under the power of the Force-sensitive natives. The Annoo-Dat general Ashaar Khorda wanted the idol to use as a weapon capable of generating explosions that could destroy an entire planet. Even worse, Khorda's target was Coruscant.

Zam traveled quickly to Kamino, where she met with Jango and, to her surprise, with his young son Boba. She believed that Boba's mother had been killed and Jango said nothing to the contrary. Instead, he listened impatiently to Zam's story about the idol. Zam ended by saying that, since she and Jango had found the weapon, they owed it to the people of Coruscant to stop Khorda's plan.

Under the Mask: Zam Wesell was one of the few people who could elicit affection from the harsh and implacable Jango Fett

A Matter of Conscience

Jango wasn't interested, since he wouldn't be paid for the work and his son needed him on Kamino, but Zam convinced him that there were countless children that needed him on Coruscant. Jango Fett, an orphan rescued by strangers, softened his position and finally accepted his first time working together with Zam Wesell. [Syn's notes: Again, second time since Star Wars: Bounty Hunter.]

Zam had seen Khorda's right-hand man, the dug Fernooda. Thus, she took on his appearance in order to discover Khorda's and his lackeys' plans. They found out that Fernooda planned to place the idol in one of the planet's central reactors, where the explosion would cause a chain reaction that would destroy the planet completely.

Jango and Zam, along with a solitary Jedi, found the mad killer, after following the clues that he and his gang had left. Together, the three proceeded to defeat the gang and recover the idol. The Jedi could absorb the Force of the idol and leave it without power once more; although at the cost of his life.

Safe Return: Zam Wesell worked together with Jango Fett to seize a powerful Force artifact and return it to its owners. She managed to convince Jango to accept the mission.

Zam and Jango took the idol back to Seylott, earning them the gratitude of the natives. They were requested not to return ever again, something that the bounty hunters had no intention of doing. Upon returning to Kamino, Zam was not fooled by Jango's complaints of not being paid, since she knew that, deep down, he knew that returning the idol had been the right thing to do. It was the same impulse that had saved her on Seylott. She said goodbye to Jango with a kiss on his scarred cheek, so he wouldn't feel it had all been for nothing. It seemed that Zam had won again.

Altruistic Mission: Zam's desire to prevent the deaths of millions of people in a terrorist attack shows that she had a certain sense of conscience.

The Final Mission

Jango Fett made an atypical decision: subcontract Zam for the most dangerous assignment.

Jango wanted to spend more time with his son Boba. The boy's education was very important to him. However, the most famous bounty hunter in the galaxy had many offers of work. He accepted most of them and the rest he passed on to Zam Wesell. She worked alone most of the time, although they worked together occasionally, to the benefit of both of them.

Assassination Contract

A man that Jango knew as Tyranus, the same that had given him work with the Kaminoans, requested that he accept a special mission. It involved the killing of a high-order politician who had interfered in Tyranus's business. The pay was very good and Jango was happy to be able to pass it on to Zam Wesell. It seemed like a simple job.

The target was a senator dedicated to public life, something that would make her an easy target for an intelligent assassin. However, the target was also a queen of Naboo, friend of the Jedi and a central figure to the supreme Chancellor of the Republic.

Direct Hit: Ostensibly, Zam Wesell had killed the senator Padme Amidala with a bomb on her ship, but the victim ended up being a decoy, making it necessary to take another approach.

Reckless Driving: Zam realized that she was being pursued by Jedi. Her skill at the wheel of a speeder allowed her to traverse the busiest districts of Coruscant, but her pursuers wouldn't give up the chase.

To Kill a Senator

Zam chose the occasion carefully.The target was to return to Coruscant for a crucial vote, and her landing would be predictable enough. Zam used her capacity for shapeshifting to discover the time and place of Senator Padme Amidala's return.

With her usual cunning, Zam managed to place a bomb on the target's landing platform and then left to observe from the heights of a building a kilometer away. From there, she waited for the moment of truth. Amidala's silvery ship landed, flanked by fighters. The senator came down from the ramp and the moment her foot stepped onto the platform, Wesell detonated the explosive. There were few survivors and the news was full of stories and images of Zam's success.

Double Action

Zam Wesell believed she had completed the mission, but her satisfaction was short-lived. Amidala was apparently alive in the rotunda of the Senate at the end of the day, a very irritating outcome. The woman killed on the landing platform was a double. Fett was angry, along with his client. There could be no more mistakes.

Fett spoke with Zam and gave her a glass tube with two kouhuns inside. He cautioned her that they were extremely venomous, since she wasn't an amateur.

The bounty hunters counted on an ASN-121 droid, programmed with the location of Amidala's quarters, to deposit the deadly cargo. Then, Zam sat and waited for the return of the robot.

It was emiting an alert signal. Zam saw through her scope a Jedi holding onto the droid. Not even the droid's destruction could shake the Jedi, and soon she was being pursued through all of Coruscant, with her skills as a pilot put to the test.

Just when she thought she had lost them, one of the Jedi jumped onto her speeder. In the subsequent skirmish, her vehicle was damaged and she was forced to land. She sought refuge in a bar with the Jedi close behind.

Death of a Hunter

Seeing one of the Jedi at the bar, Zam approached as close as she dared, knowing that he could deflect a blaster bolt if warned in time. Unfortunately, the Jedi was much more astute, igniting his lightsaber with a twirl and severing Zam's hand that held her blaster. The pair of Jedi dragged Wesell's wounded body into an alley to interrogate her.

Ground Chase: Zam, without her speeder which had been damaged, had to flee on foot. She got into a bar, where she intended to ambush her pursuers, but Obi-Wan Kenobi attacked her with his lightsaber before she could fire; Wesell was badly injured.

One of them, the younger one, pressed Zam to reveal the name of her client. At first, she resisted, but then, after the Jedi spoke again, began to tell her captors what she knew.

The poison dart that Jango shot ended Zam's life before she could speak a word. She died quickly from the venom's deadly effects; she didn't suffer. This was the last thing that Fett could do for a friend.

[vickyvicarious]

Dragon Age with wifi AU, Origins Edition:

Morrigan - can and will hack your shit. Identity theft is a joke if it's done to Alistair. Also, probably knows her way around the dark web.

Alistair - Enjoys flash games, Googles stupid questions a lot, and likes watching ASMR to de-stress but lives in fear of Morrigan finding out. Has social media accounts but is terrible at all of them, and also has a habit of forgetting his passwords for everything.

Leliana - Travelogues on Youtube, music is on Spotify, also has a great many secret/lurker accounts no one knows about.

Barkspawn/Dog - Instagram famous, as is true of pretty much any Mabari in Ferelden. Still, has an extra-large following.

Sten - has never gone on the internet of his own accord until the PC gifts him a smartphone. Then he starts leaving Yelp/Google Maps reviews on everywhere they go. These reviews are weird and unhelpful, generally, but very unintentionally funny. Also, very excited to learn that museums share their resources for free and looks up a lot of art.

Wynne - Runs an advice blog that is actually pretty well-known and respected.

Shale - Horrifies birdwatcher blogs for fun.

Oghren - eBay addict.

Zevran - used to be famous on Vine. Somehow despite actively filming during assassinations at times, it never really interfered with his job. He's been on tumblr since the dawn of time.

Loghain - Facebooks everything he does.

Anora - all the highly curated social media accounts; Instagram influencer.

[magneticmage]

What my Dragon Age OCs named their animal companions (at least those that have them);

As this was longer than anticipated, it's under the cut, otherwise enjoy my babbling!

Lynera Mahariel has the following animal companions as a ranger:

-"Vengeance " aka Nan the Bear (a bear that underwent a type of modified Joining and became a bereskarn who later acquires the ability to wear heavy and massive armors). She will often use him as a beast of burden and a mount into battle. It is very docile for its kind, oddly enough, and she perhaps guesses that it might be because she raised the bear from a half-grown cub after its mother was killed by human hunters. When it got the Blight post-Deep Roads, she used some of the Archdemon's blood they had collected (yes, they fought it in the Deep Roads but that's another post on its own) and she is known to have stayed by its side the entire time, fully prepared to put it down should the need arise. As this was on the heels of Tamlen's ghouldom and subsequent death, she did not want to have to lose another friend to the Blight's corruption, but felt no other alternative was available. She is also prepared to kill Nan before going on her Calling (while she helped to find the cure for the Taint, she did not use it herself as she had accepted her fate as a Grey Warden during the Fifth Blight). She named him Nan after the rage and grief she feels over Tamlen and the loss of her old life, something the bear seems to share towards bow and arrow armed humans who have not been recognized as allies. He is brown and black furred.

-"Anger" aka Nin the Wolf (another animal companion who was Joined-seeing a pattern here yet?-after contracting the Taint and transformed into a blight wolf that eventually gains the training to wear medium and then heavy armors). She took the wolf in after he was separated from its pack by a darkspawn war party in the Kocarri Wilds and he has remained with her ever since. While extremely territorial and aggressive, she can soothe him with a simple touch much to the bafflement of others, and sometimes even herself post-Joinings. She named him Nin due to all the anger and frustration she was feeling at the time, as well as how aggressive and snappy he was to others. He has red fur with a dark gray underbelly.

-"Sadness/Depression" aka Nume the Spider (the final mention of animal companion to Join Lynera's menagerie of pets-turned-Tainted-Wardens and capable of wearing light armor). She hatched the spider from an egg sac recovered in the Dark Forest from around the Queen spider's nest. While Nume takes some time (probably a few months to half a year, given spider's known moulting rates as juveniles into adults) before the spider is fully grown and capable of combat, Lynera doesn't generally use her for direct skirmishes and often has her set up webbing to facilitate ambushes. She contracts the Taint after a few skirmishes with the darkspawn and Lynera promptly has her Joined. Careful to a fault and uncertain about the abilities and effects this new type of Spider would have should Nume ever be allowed to breed, Lynera makes a point to kill any male spider within the general facility and often has Nin or Nan do so. She also noted the Nume's weaknesses to certain types of damage and had Wade craft specially designed armor to protect her friend. Nume is named after the rage and grief that Lynera experienced at the time. Nume is black with vivid red and white markings and gold-hued eyes.

Isemaya Tabris;

-Kisses the Cat=An old she-devil calico cat that's been Fade-Touched after she rescued it from the Alienage orphanage's attic. She taught the cat to wear a set of modified studded leather-and drakeskin armor that Wade designed after showing her to the staff at Vigil's Keep. Prior to that, she simply kept the cat in her pack and had trained it to come when called. She named it Kisses after it proceeded to continously bite at her armor and clothes before calming down as time went on, at least until Ser Pounce-a-lot came around as the two only get along at certain times (when their owners are in the room, her heat strikes, etc.).

Catriona Surana;

-"Freedom" aka Revas the Warden Mabari Warhound (Was also Joined upon contracting the Taint post-Solidier's Peak and it inspired Catriona to modify the Joining in such a way as to allow-or, at least, attempt-other creatures to undergo it and hopefully have a higher chance of success. The results of the test have yet to be determined due to the small sample size thus far, but it offers promising results if the current survival rate holds true. Although this does not stop the creature's from changing due to their now Tainted nature nor does it make them immune to the Calling, however, she has also begun further research into modifying the Cure for them, as well. The results will have to be remain to be seen as this modified cure hasn't been tested yet). She had the mabari trained to wear medium and heavy armors over time so that he could continue to fight beside her as she is a blood-mage, spirit-healer, and arcane-warrior and thus often fights on the front lines when not shuffled away in her research libraries. Revas himself was named after she found community and acceptance among the Danish and city elves after being so estranged from her respective heritage and cultures due to being in the Circle at Kinloch Hold since the age of eleven. He was also named for the fact that she found she actually wanted and enjoyed her newfound freedoms after so long denied them by the Templars. He's got white fur with icy blue eyes and seems slightly more wolf-like in appearance than most mabari.

Cale Amell;

-Barkspawn the Mabari Warhound is the sibling of Catriona's wardog due to being in the same litter. He is a dull black-furred dog. He was not Joined and was often used as a frontline of defense should enemies get to close to his owner as his owner is far more squishy than Catriona and so was taught to wear medium and heavy armor sets. He is also extremely fond of Morrigan and almost seems to prefer her over Cale at times. He was returned to the party, alongside his brother, by a chance meeting with Cale's estranged sister, Raven Amell, in the lifting of the seige of Gwaren during the Fifth Blight.

Raven Amell;

-Ribbon the Falcon=This lovely bird was give to her by one of her past Orlesian lovers (now deceased due to poisoning by rivals in the Game) during their time at Montsimmard together before she was set to be transferred to The Gallows at Kirkwall. Needless to say, the Blight interrupted those plans and Raven kept her bird until its death by arrows during the fight against Corypheus' forces in the Arbor Wilds despite the light armor vestments it had been granted and trained in by that point of time. Prior to her death and the Mage-Templar War, she was often used to scout and send encoded messages or for hunting small game like rabbits. Ribbon is named after the streaks-"ribbons"-of lighter colors across her dark brown wings and underbelly.

Fion Cousland;

-Hafter the Mabari Warhound is exactly what a Cousland should have in a mabari; purebred, stalwart, noble, and fierce. He's a charcoal grey color with some uneven ashy and soot colored stripes. He was given combat training around the same time as Fion had begun to excel at his own warrior training and the two quickly became a nigh-unbeatable time. By the time of Awakening, Hafter is able to wear truly massive protective armor and still keep fighting as effectively as ever, though he has gained a healthy fear of water after going under a river for a few hundred feet post-Awakening but pre-Inquisition. He was named after the old tales Nan would tell him as a child.

Aelynne Cousland;

-Rabbit the Mabari was the runt of the litter and was given to Aelynne upon the previous death of her old dog (an aged greyhound named Marble she'd been given by a relative). She is a simple brown color with a white underbelly and darker brown ears. She's got a small "mask" across her eyes that matches her ears. She was named Rabbit due to Aelynne having stated she wanted a pet rabbit for Wintersend and Fergus promptly giving her the long-eared mabari as a present soon after instead. Rabbit is calmer than her master and often helps to keep her calm and collected and focused. Due to Aelynne preferring longer range combat (though she later gain a reputation for being a skilled duelist post-Fereldan Civil War and her own raider adventures), Rabbit was trained to be a more direct threat to their enemies and thus wears medium and heavy armor (though the later is often only used for ground assaults as it's often a detriment at sea).

Barran Aeducan;

-"Family" aka Kalnath the Deepstalker Queen is a hardy and rather large deepstalker matriarch of unusual gold and blue coloring with alert and bright red eyes. While her numerous and fast-growing progeny is occasionally weaponized as fodder after becoming acclimatized to having Barran at the top of the "pecking order" so to speak and thus often trained for simple tasks and commands, Kalnath herself is extremely valued by Barran as she was the first creature to not attack him during his exile in the Deep Roads. He freed her from a darkspawn trap and nursed back to health while traveling to Ostagar. Once healed, she did not leave and seems quite content to continue her adventures with Barran. She was trained to wear light to medium armor to better protect her in battle (though her progeny goes without). Barran has begun an extensive breeding program of her descendants to make them viable as scouts and pets (often those of unusual colorings such as Kalnath herself or gentler and obedient natures) among other things. He is adamant that Kalnath is not a pet but is often found secretly doting on her whenever possible. Kalnath is named for fact that he viewed his family-namely Bhelen, Trian, and even King Endrin-as a nest of deepstalkers with slightly more complexity in motive and means that he often had to navigate growing up but they were deepstalkers if the same pack, at least. Also Bhelen's betrayal was still fresh in his mind and he decided he would be a "deep lord" by swallowing "the venom" of his traitorous brother if that is what it took to get vengeance.

Valda Aeducan;

-"Peace" aka Partha The Giant Spider Queen is a companion of Valda that rarely leaves the Palace walls except when she goes on expeditions into the Deep Roads. Partha is a vivid blue color with green and yellow markings as well as with eight large red eyes. Valda's fascination with spiders started young upon being served them as a special birthday dish when she was six. Since then she has been breeding them for a variety of uses (from exotic pets to poisonous toxins and tools of death against her enemies to more mundane uses such as spidersilk threads for clothes and meat for food) for quite some time. Partha is the latest and most successful individual she has produced thus far, having lived nearly as long as Valda herself (Partha is currently in her late teens) due an extremely strong toxin and elemental resistances paired with powerful muscles for strength and speed. This spider queen is even capable of wearing light armor to aid in covering up her weaker joints and underbelly, as well as occasionally some more sharp drakeskin-and-teeth options for intimidation purposes. She was named after the dwarven word for peace due to Valda wishing to bring about an end to the systematic oppressions faced by many in Orzammar as seen when she encountered a young Brosca ruffian during her youth.

Tatha Brosca;

-"Friend" aka Salroka the Bronto is a beast of burden that Tatha "liberated" from Beraht's cages before killing the crimelord. He is a deep cobalt color. Initially taken so that she could quickly gather what supplies she could scavenge (and an emergency food supply if that failed) before she could abscond off with Rica and Kalah into the Deep Roads-at least that was the plan until the guards arrived and she was Conscripted into the Grey Wardens. Salroka is a simple brute and not easily frightened though it was a rough adjustment period for them both on the way to Ostagar. She often ended up using him as a warmount during the Fifth Blight and so took preparations to get him used to heavy (and then later massive) armor. She named him Salroka after Leske as she missed her fellow partner in crime and did not fully trust Barran despite having been friends with his twin sister for some years prior to the whole mess with Beraht and Jarvia (also another story for another post). She managed to avoid killing Leske during the initial engagement with Jarvia and sent him away when he woke up. Unbeknownst to her, Valda has recruited him to serve as a hidden bodyguard of sorts for Kalah Brosca. Tatha had joked that her old Salroka was even better than her new one so killing him was just a waste of dwarven talent when she was questioned about why she let him go.

Dion Caron;

-Victoy the Giant Rat is a pet rat with fluffy and curly grey and brown fur that Dion has had for a number of years. He doesn't know why the creature is still alive and frankly doesn't care enough to find out. He has trained the rat to help Garam look for and set up traps for the darkspawn they often hunt. He even gave her a makeshift set of Grey Warden gear out of a sense of camaderie. Her name is Victory to remind him that in the war against these monsters and other great evils, the world is still so full of little victories like her.

Jasper Hawke;

-Honey the Mabari Warhound is a beautiful golden-brown mabari from a litter of seven that was birthed by Malcolm's mabari when they were kids and, although one died shortly after, two were given away to family friends, and another was killed by the darkspawn in the flight from Lothering (it was Leandra's white dog named Cotton), he managed to survive among other things; being mauled by a bear, getting burned by mage fire, and losing a fight to a giant rat (poor Honey now has a crippling fear of them). Jasper has trained him to follow commands and wear specially crafted heavy armor (often matching Jasper's own) alongside the special magical-resistant Kaddis he uses. Jasper also has him help train the templar recruits and will even let Aveline borrow him for similar purposes from time to time. Honey was named as such due to getting into a fight with a bear over its beehive of his own volition. He was found hours later beside a dead bear, horribly wounded and covered in bees and honey. Jasper couldn't help but laugh at the memory once he'd recovered.

Gray Hawke;

-Biscuit the Mabari is a grey and brown mabari and was the runt of the litter. A sickly pup that required lots of attention, he has grown to be a very healthy (if somewhat needy) and overly large lap dog. The Kaddis Gray uses are often used for their artistic aesthetics but a few are for actual combat as well. Gray often has him guard the family estate when he is away or sleeping; he even goes on little patrols around the neighboring blocks if rumors are to be believed! He is also very friendly and prone to stealing biscuits, hence his name.

Skye Hawke;

-Pudding the Mabari is a deep brown color and was the largest of the litter. She is also the most curious of the bunch and has been known to get into anything and everything if left to her own devices (much like her owner, some would say). While she often used to help round up the animals around the farm growing up, she's since developed into a capable and well-rounded animal. Skye often uses her for assisting in pranks and diversions, but doesn't often use her for battle out of sentimental reasons. A number of Kaddis designs and types are used for this purpose. She was named Pudding after Skye's favorite desert.

Violet Hawke;

-Cream Puff the Mabari Warhound is a mostly white furred with gold-spots mabari with gray paws and tail. Violet often fights alongside her mabari and even had Cream Puff's own Champion heavy armor comissioned (though her dog did not join her in the fight against the Arishok). Otherwise, Cream Puff is as docile as they come and is known to "kidnap" little kids and other small creatures and bring them home which Violet then has to return. She was named by Malcolm Violet asking for his help in naming her mabari.

~Additional Bonuses~

Emilyse Trevelyan has a cream-colored mabari gifted to her by an Antivan suitor (much to Cullen's consternation) after a recent litter of his Fereldan relatives kennels. She goes on to often use the dog-and its inevitable litters of pups with Cullen's own mabari- to help with the therapies for trauamtized mages and templars looking for some form of comfort who come into the sanctuaries and clinics set up in the Inquisition's wake. She named her Butterscotch.

Garam Kader has acquired a giant silverite-and-steel golem he's named after the dwarven word for war, "Kallak", by the time of Awakening. The details of how exactly he managed to acquire this particular golem are unclear and no one on his team is willing to elaborate on it either.. He has the control rod but upon being told the truth of the Anvil of the Void by Barran and Tatha, he has set a team of researchers to finding a way to break the rod to restore the dwarf's original personality and (hopefully) even find a way to reverse the process and return them to a dwarven form once more. Until then, he maintain Kallak in as best a condition as he can manage despite the numerous missions and dangerous assignments he is given by the Grey Wardens. In the meantime, he has augmented Kallak with some truly massive crystals. He often leaves the golem to its own devices in Vigil's Keep's courtyard where it will wander off to the forge. Wade complains that it is watching him and making his work difficult but Lynera seems to soothe these fears with a simple "perhaps it remembers the craftsmen who made it or what it once was before it became a golem".

[snarky-bee]

30 days OC challenge.  First Meeting

***

“I’m not afraid of anything,” Kallian scoffed.

Now, Alistair may have accidentally - accidentally! - mistaken her for a messenger. And yes, she was pretty and small and way too young-looking. But, Maker, this girl was going to get killed. He gripped his sword tighter. At least she wouldn’t die on his watch. Hopefully.

He wasn’t the only one to have his doubts. Ser Jory turned around with a dubious expression. 

“Don’t worry. I’m watching her back,” Alistair murmured. He didn’t get the impression she would appreciate him implying she needed watching. Last thing he needed was to put his foot in his mouth again. Why did he have such a foot-in-mouth problem?

Now, Alistair had seen some impressive female fighters before, and he didn’t think that just because she was a girl, and an elf that she couldn’t be a Grey Warden. He really didn’t! 

But she was so small! He was sure if he stretched his elbow out that it would rest on the top of her head like a perfectly placed armrest. And then she would get mad and probably stab him or something. 

Dammit. He should be paying attention. 

“Keep up,” he called back to Daveth.

“Bloody spiderwebs,” Daveth spat several times, wiping away invisible webs from his face and arms.

Alistair faced forward again, keeping an eye on Kallian and Jory, while also ‘listening’ for any nearby darkspawn. Should he be at the front of the group? Duncan told him to lead them did he not? It would look a bit odd if he suddenly ran ahead of them. Yet now he was picturing a wolf, or a bear, or darkspawn jumping out from the bushes and running Kallian through with a sword.

He gulped and began to half-jog to the front of their little line-up. 

“What’s this?” Ser Jory stopped. 

“Animal tracks, looks like,” Alistair crouched to inspect the paw prints in the mud.

“Animals?” Daveth asked. “What kind of animals we talkin’?”

Alistair shifted his shield on his back as he stood up again. “We are in the wilds. Probably wolves. But we have Ash Warriors here too, so it could just as likely be some mabari tracks from them passing through.”

“Oi! You lot coming, or what?” Kallian shouted.

“Not so loud!” Alistair cried back, equally loud. 

How did she get so far ahead? 

Tingling shot up his spine and tugged at his veins. No. “Kallian!” He drew his sword, and sprinted.

A lone genlock hurled itself at her. In less than a second her dagger was in her hand and blocked what would have been a serious blow. Fast again, she kicked it off balance and drew her other weapon. And then with two hits, blood sprayed from the darkspawn’s neck, spattering her face with droplets and it dropped.

And she taunted it! 

Kallian laughed and pumped her fist in the air.

“By Andraste’s flaming sword… she’s good,” Alistair said, admittedly awestruck. “Looks like you two have a lot to live up to.” He grinned, sheathed his sword and clapped Kallian’s shoulder while pulling a vial out from his belt. 

[pikapeppa]

Fenris/f!Hawke modern AU: Rivain

A wild vacation oneshot appears! This little epilogue for Damned Spot was inspired by BEAUTIFUL fan art by @schoute and @essequamvideri20, which can be found here and here. 

In which Fenris and Hawke go to the beach, and Hawke negotiates with Fenris to get more naked. 😎

For @dadrunkwriting Friday. ~2000 words. Read here on AO3 instead.

*******************

Hawke tossed her bag down on her beach chair and stretched her arms. “What a perfect day,” she said happily, then sat down and started rifling through her bag.

“It does seem rather perfect for the tanning activity you were hoping for,” Fenris said. He adjusted the umbrella, then settled himself in the shade of the second beach chair and leisurely stretched out his legs. The sun was blazing bright, and even through his sunglasses, he could tell the Rivaini sky was a perfect azure blue. The white-sand beach faded into the ocean in an exquisite gradient of cerulean and emerald, and Fenris had never seen anything like it in his life.

He straightened his black t-shirt, then contentedly folded his hands over his abdomen. Meanwhile, Hawke had pulled a bottle of sunscreen from her bag, and she began applying it to her legs in brisk practiced strokes. In contrast with the brilliant blues and sandy white of the beach, Hawke was a display of bright warm colours: golden skin and chestnut hair and those raspberry-red lips of hers, and Fenris watched with shameless appreciation as she rubbed the sunscreen in around the edges of her bikini.

She hummed to herself as she slathered herself in sunscreen up to her neck, then turned to Fenris with a smile. “Can you do my back?”

He held out his hand for the bottle and shifted his legs so she could sit between them. She continued to hum cheerfully as Fenris smoothed the sunscreen into her skin.

Then she glanced at him over her shoulder. “Once you’re done with my back, then I can do yours,” she said brightly.

Her expression was a picture of fake innocence, and Fenris eyed her with fond exasperation. “No, Hawke. The shirt stays on,” he told her for the third time today.

She groaned. “Come on, Fenris. No one else on this beach is wearing a shirt.”

Fenris didn’t bother to look. He knew she was correct. Even the women were mostly bare from the waist up; Hawke’s little bikini top was one of the few tops on this beach. But this fact wouldn’t change Fenris’s mind.

He smoothed the last dab of sunscreen under the clasp of her bikini. “No one else on this beach is covered from neck to toe in tattoos, either,” he said.

At this, Hawke turned around halfway and met his eye. “You’re wrong about that,” she said seriously, then jerked her head to the side. “Look around.”

He raised one eyebrow, then finally gave the other beachgoers a more careful look. And to his surprise, he noticed that she was right.

The beach was peppered with people whose skin ranged in colour from ivory to ebony. Most of the skin he saw was patterned with ink of varying intricacy spanning the full range of colours, from white to black, to gold and red and green and indigo and every shade in between. And exactly as Hawke had said, Fenris’s tattoos were hardly the most ornate on the beach.

One man’s entire chest, back, and legs were patterned with an intricate web of tattoos that seemed to tell a story. A dark-skinned woman had an exquisite pattern of golden triangles and whorls on her forehead and cheekbones that would have made any Dalish elf weep with envy. Another young woman who couldn’t have been older than Varania had a fine tracing of red and black dots and lines from the angles of her jaw to the tips of her middle fingers, and from her hipbones to the knuckles of her toes.

Fenris pushed up his sunglasses in wonder, then turned to Hawke. “Did you know…?”

“...that body art is a huge deal in Rivain?” she finished. “Yes, of course.”

He gazed speechlessly around the beach for a moment more, then looked at Hawke again. “Is this why you thought to bring me here?”

She laughed and awkwardly scratched the back of her neck. “Ah, I wish I could say I had that much forethought. But you know I was planning a trip here anyway, before we met. But this is why I didn’t change my travel plans once I knew you’d be coming with me.” She affectionately stroked the white lines on his chin, then lifted her own tattooed left shoulder coquettishly. “We fit right in, wouldn’t you say?”

“I… Yes, so it would seem,” he said dumbly. He tipped his sunglasses back down so he wouldn't be caught staring so blatantly, but he couldn’t help but gaze around the beach with wide eyes. He’d genuinely never seen so many heavily tattooed people in his life, and in Tevinter, Fenris had most certainly been the most heavily tattooed of all.

But it’s not the same, he thought. These tattoos aren’t like mine. The people on this beach had chosen their tattoos of their own free will. Every one of them probably had a story for where their ink came from, and their reasons for getting inked likely ranged from mundane to wild to purely aesthetic. But Fenris was sure no one else’s story involved an ugly combination of grief mixed with a misguided need to show fealty to a now-dead Tevinter mob boss.

Fenris’s tattoos weren’t art. He didn’t wear them out of pride. They were a constant reminder of the lies Danarius had told him and the life he’d suffered under Danarius’s thumb.

But… nobody on this beach would know that. For once in his life, Fenris might actually blend in.

He turned back to Hawke to find her studying him with a soft little smile. “So?” she said. “Are you willing to take your shirt off now?” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Kaffas, she was single-minded. He smirked and raised one eyebrow at her, but before he could speak, she laughed and pinched his chin. “Think about it,” she said. “I’m going in the water.” She kissed him quickly on the lips, then rose from the beach chair and bolted down the beach toward the ocean.

As soon as her feet hit the water, she let out a joyful peal of laughter, then promptly fell hands-first into the waves. She clumsily rose to her feet, then shook her head like a mabari until her short dark hair was standing out around her head like a spiky halo.

She smoothed her hands over her wet hair and grinned at him. “Come on in, the water’s fine!” she yelled.

Fenris chuckled. He could barely hear her over the hissing crash of water on sand, but her message was clear. He waved a dismissive hand at her, then chuckled again when she turned her back on him and playfully shimmied her butt.

She laughed once more, then dove back into the water and rose to the surface to float on the easy wax and wane of the ocean waves, and Fenris simply watched her for a moment. Then he dropped his gaze to his black t-shirt.

He idly rubbed the hem of the shirt between his tattooed fingers. There was an odd feeling in his chest, like a simmering mix of anxiety and excitement. It should be easy to take his shirt off; it was just a brisk motion, no different than undressing for a shower or undressing before stretching Hawke’s naked body across his bed. But it did not feel easy or simple. The more Fenris thought about it, the more momentous it seemed to be - almost as though he’d be shedding something far heavier than a simple cotton garment.

He lifted his eyes back to the ocean. Hawke was standing knee-deep in the water, her expression happy but focused as she dug around in the sand for some thing or another: shells or sand dollars, perhaps. Her dark spiky bangs were dripping into her eyes, and the sun was shimmering on her salt-dewed skin, and Fenris could easily imagine her humming to herself in a sweet and slightly out-of-tune voice.

He pushed himself to his feet. Then, before he could think about it any longer, before the thought of it paralyzed him with nerves, he fisted his hands in the back of his shirt and pulled it off.

A warm, playful breeze unfurled across his bare shoulders and belly and back. Fenris dropped his shirt on the beach chair and adjusted his sunglasses, then took a deep breath and surreptitiously looked around.

No one was staring at him. Nobody was gaping at him in fear or unflattering curiosity. A few people briefly glanced at him then casually looked away, as though he was just any other person on the beach.

“Nice ink,” someone said.

He whipped his head around, but the girl who had commented on his tattoos was already walking away hand-in-hand with her equally tattooed girlfriend.

“Uh… thank you,” Fenris said, feeling utterly nonplussed. The girl glanced back and gave him a friendly wave, then continued on her way.

Fenris released a deep exhale, then slowly removed his sunglasses and placed them on the beach chair with his discarded shirt. Then, very slowly, feeling as though he was stepping toward the edge of a precipice, he stepped out of the shade and into the bright Rivaini sun.  

The sand was hot beneath his bare feet - almost unbearably hot. Fenris burrowed his toes into the sand, relishing the damp cool feel of it squishing between his toes. Then he closed his eyes and lifted his chin.

Behind his closed eyelids, the world became a blank but brilliant orange blur. Fenris breathed in the salty sea air, then simply sank into the strange familiarity of the sun’s brilliant rays warming his skin.

For the first time in years, the sun was beating down on Fenris’s bare shoulders. And for the first time in decades, he was actually enjoying it.

He smiled and opened his eyes. Hawke was watching him, standing in the ocean with her hands on her hips, and the smile on her face was the most joyful thing he’d ever seen.

He unearthed his half-buried feet from the sand and took one step toward her, then another. Suddenly he was running, running across the hot sand, running toward Hawke and leaving his black t-shirt behind, and then the salty ocean waves were licking at his calves and splashing up over his knees until he couldn’t run anymore.

Hawke grinned as he trampled awkwardly through the water toward her. Fenris reached out and grasped her hand, and a moment later, she was in his arms with her legs wrapped around his waist.

“I knew you’d like the beach,” she chirped. “I had a feeling.”

“I like being at the beach with you,” he said. He admired her brilliant smile, then lifted his chin and brushed her lips with a featherlight kiss. “Thank you for bringing me here,” he whispered.  

She pressed her forehead to his. Her fingers toyed with the damp hair at the nape of his neck. “I’ll bring you anywhere you want, you handsome fool,” she told him. “I would go anywhere with you.”

Her words were guileless and candid and positively bursting with possibility. Hawke tilted her head slightly and kissed the corner of his lips, and as Fenris eagerly returned her kiss, his imagination floated away into the sultry sun-drenched sky.

Fenris was not much of one for travelling, not after his forced cross-country flight from Danarius. But this road trip with Hawke was nothing like that. There was nothing rushed or forced about this trip; ever since they’d left Kirkwall, it had been a seamless flow of sun and sky and winding roads.

Perhaps Rivain was just the beginning. Perhaps he and Hawke could start saving their money for a bigger, longer trip: one that would carry them from one corner of Thedas to the other. With Hawke by his side, he would happily go anywhere.

With Hawke by his side, Fenris could do anything.

[the-rogue-mockingjay]

OC Interview!

featuring my girls, Melanthe, Eden, and Aisling!

Tagged by @schoute, YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH I’VE WANTED TO DO ONE OF THESE!!! Thanks for the tag!!!!!

Tagging @coptix! (frick yeah Luna Hawke!!!!!) And also @markuilleam (no pressure tho lol)

Rules: Answer the following questions as your OC of choice.

I couldn’t pick just ONE, so I said screw it and went with my main three!

1. What’s your name?

Melanthe Ashirill Lavellan. [She grins and bows low and dramatically.] How do you do? [She glances at her sister.]

[Eden clears her throat.] Eden Lavellan.

[Hawke smiles pleasantly and crosses her legs.] Aisling Mariann Hawke.

2. Do you know why you are named that?

[Melanthe shrugs.]

Hawke: No.

Eden: A friend suggested it, I thought it sounded nice, and that’s what I’ve gone with ever since.

3. Are you single or taken?

Hawke: I gave an angsty Tevinter elf my heart, and I hope he keeps it forever.

[Melanthe cackles.] Always the romantic, aren’t you Hawke? As for me… [She pulls an ivory wolf’s jawbone pendant out from under her tunic and waves it around.] Yep.

Hawke: You…went with Solas?

[Melanthe nods.] Yep. The resident egghead Fade expert is mine. And my dear sister is in love with the Commander!

[Eden blushes slightly.] He’s…he’s nice.

[Hawke and Melanthe elbow Eden playfully.]

4. Have any abilities or powers?

[Eden holds up a glowing left hand.] Mel and I have the Anchor. It lets us open and close tears in the Veil.

[Melanthe high-fives her sister with her own glowing hand.] Yes! And we can make tiny holes in the Veil to kill demons sometimes!

Hawke: I’m a mage, specifically a spirit healer with force mage training. It’s pretty cool. Eden’s a mage as well.

Melanthe: And I’m good at poking hundreds of holes in people via a truly epic assortment of knives. [She winks.]

5. Stop being a Mary Sue.

[The three women exchange puzzled glances.]

Hawke: Run that by me again?

Melanthe: I don’t remember killing someone by that name. Nor do I remember any bartenders with that name. Maybe…eh. Nah.

6. What’s your eye color?

[Hawke raises an eyebrow.] You mean to tell me you can’t see it? Blue.

[Melanthe leans in close to the interviewer for a moment.] Gold, but not the same shade as my sister’s. Mine’s better.

Eden: I’m not inclined to disagree.

7. How about your hair color?

Hawke: Black. Like obsidian but, alas! Not as shiny.

Eden: Just..dark red.

Melanthe: Like drying blood!

[Eden makes a face.] Mel, please.

Melanthe: Okay fine. Going with Hawke’s mention of shiny rocks, how about garnet red?

Eden: That is better, yes.

8. Have any family members?

[Hawke suddenly finds the floor most intriguing. Melanthe perks up.] Oh, lots! There’s the twins, Tessa and Feyrand--they’re older than me--Iolanthe’s younger than Eden, we’ve got an even younger brother who has a habit of disappearing and we’ve got cousins galore! There’s Kahris, Maralah, Saelethil…not to mention our clanmates! They’re family too.

Eden: My friends are my family, too. Hawke, Fenris, Cole, Cassandra, Solas, Varric, Sera, Blackwall…the whole inner circle, really.

Interviewer: What about you, Hawke?

[Hawke jerks her head back up.] Oh, sorry. Well… [She coughs into her fist.] I have Fenris and my ducklings, and the Lavellans. That is…all.

9. Oh? How about any pets?

Melanthe: Too many.  There’s my palomino horse, I call him Corvo, Eden’s got a hart named Red Velvet, a halla named Evune, probably a dozen different birds, three hamsters aaaaand a rabbit on top of that-

Eden: In my defense, they were mostly rescues.

[Hawke points behind her with her thumb.] There’s an undead bog unicorn in the stables. And a giant nug. And as for me? My mabari Birch is all I need.

10. That’s cool, I guess. Now tell me something you don’t like.

[Hawke deadpans.] Red lyrium.

[Melanthe grimaces.] Oh, I feel you there.

Eden: Stuck-up ancient Tevinter morons who blow things up and then monologue villainously.

Melanthe: Oof, true! Also the Chantry. The Chantry can go- [She spews a long string of obscenities that just about rivals a sailor’s cursing.]

[Eden nods thoughtfully. Hawke’s eyes glint with mischief.] And the TEMPLARS as well, especially the ones who were in KIRKWALL working for MEREDITH-

[Cullen hollers from the next room.] I heard that, Hawke!

[Melanthe and Hawke high-five. Eden shakes her head.] Hawke didn’t mean you, ma atish’an.

Melanthe: Oh yes she did. [snickers]

11. Do you have any activities/hobbies that you like to do?

[Melanthe leans back in her chair, putting her legs on the table.] Stabbing. Drinking. Kissing Solas. Pranking everyone in Skyhold, the usual trouble.

Eden: Painting, reading, gardening. [A timid smile slowly spreads across her face.] Singing, or playing the harp.

Hawke: Now that you mention it… I write poetry, and sometimes turn them into songs. Journaling is also something I like, and pressing flowers, and-… [Her gaze strays to the wall.] Yeah, that’s about it.

12. Have you hurt anyone in any way before?

[The three women glance at each other, at the interviewer, then back to each other.]

Melanthe: Pfft. What kind of question is that?

[Eden toys with a bracelet.]

Hawke: Oh no, of course not.

13. Ever… killed anyone before?

[Hawke grabs a champagne glass from the end table next to her, and sips it.] Me? Never!

Melanthe: I heard you used the Arishok’s skull as a flowerpot.

[Hawke nearly spits her drink everywhere.] Who told you that?

[Melanthe simply winks at the interviewer.]

14. What kind of animal are you?

Hawke: A dragon. Guarding my treasure hoard~

[Melanthe wiggles her eyebrows.] A sssssslippery sssssssssnake!

Eden: Sorry sister, you’re more of a mountain goat. You’re everywhere you shouldn’t be and you consume an unholy amount of whatever food’s available.

Melanthe: She’s a barn owl. Or a cat, maybe?

15. Name your worst habits?

Hawke: Fenris says I’m a bit overprotective of my friends. Too loyal, too stubborn, too willing to risk my life for others, I “involve myself in the affairs of others” too much, or what have you. But I’ll let you in on a secret: I used to ignore the vast majority of the mail I got when I was a noblewoman of Kirkwall.

Eden: I stay up late reading fiction when I should be dealing with all my mail and- [she lowers her voice.] Sometimes I skip war meetings.

Melanthe: I run exclusively on caffeine and volatile emotions.

16. Do you look up to anyone at all?

Hawke: Eden.

Eden: Hawke.

Melanthe: Iron Bull, Cassandra, Blackwall, Cullen, Leliana, Josie, Tess, Feyrand, Krem, Sera, Solas, Vivienne, Cole, Dorian… [She grins wickedly.] But not you, sister. I’m still taller than you.

Eden: Not if I wear heels.

Melanthe: Not if I stand on Bull’s shoulders!

17. Are you gay, straight or bisexual?

Hawke: Mm, straight.

[Melanthe considers this a moment, then shrugs.]

Eden: Just because I have a boyfriend doesn’t mean I’m into…that.

18. Do you go to school?

Hawke: My parents taught me a lot.

Melanthe: Dalish don’t really have school.

19. Ever want to marry and have any kids one day?

Hawke: I’d like to, yes.

Eden: Marriage? Absolutely, but kids I’m not so sure of.

Melanthe: To be honest I haven’t thought about it. Too busy stabbing demons and undead and corrupted templars and whatnot.

20. Do you have any fangirls/fanboys?

Hawke: Do lovers count as fans?

Melanthe: HEY SOLAS! ARE YOU A FANBOY?

Solas, from the other room: Am I- what?

Melanthe: He’s a fan of the Fade. And me. But be serious, very few people in Skyhold AREN’T fans of me. [She winks.]

21. What are you most afraid of?

Eden: Spiders.

Hawke: Corrupted spiders.

Melanthe: Bears.

22. What do you usually wear?

Eden: Simple Dalish robes.

Hawke: I inherited a bloody awesome coat from my dad complete with belts, a bright red sash, and some shoulder armor. With bonus knee protection, because you can’t protect your knees enough.

Melanthe: I’ve got a sick coat, made of phoenix scales, ring velvet, Highever weave, with lazurite details. I’ve got other coats made of varghest scales, dragonling scales, and gurgut webbing.

23. What one food tempts you?

Melanthe: CHOCOLATE. What kind? Doesn’t matter, it’s MINE.

Hawke: Ham that tastes of despair is okay, but there’s enough despair in the world, and not enough lemon cheesecake.

Eden: …cinnamon rolls.

24. Am I annoying you?

Melanthe: Nope. I’ve got aaaall the time in the world.

Hawke: After all the people I’ve dealt with, it’ll take a lot more to be annoying.

Eden: You’re not a fussy Orlesian noble. You’re doing just fine.

25. Well, it’s still not over!

[Hawke gestures for the interviewer to continue.]

26. What class are you (low/middle/high)?

Hawke: I was an apostate, then a refugee apostate, then a noblewoman apostate, then the Champion of Kirkwall, and now I’m little more than a fugitive, so truth be told, I’m not sure.

Eden: a Dalish First turned Inquisitor. I…don’t…really know?

Melanthe: High class for fancy parties and fancy murders, low class at the tavern.

27. How many friends do you have?

Hawke: About ten.

[Melanthe snorts.] Um, almost a whole castle’s worth.

Eden: My inner circle, plus the ducklings, plus the animals… [She tries counting them, but loses track.] As many friends as I need.

28. What are your thoughts on pie?

Hawke and Melanthe, in unison: Lemon meringue is the best.

Melanthe: Chocolate is equal.

Eden: Pies of all kinds are good. I wish we had them more often.

29. Favourite drink?

Melanthe: Whiskey.

Hawke: That peach liqueur I used to buy in Hightown.

Eden: ….hot chocolate?

30. What’s your favourite place?

[Hawke smiles wistfully.] I have many, but the place I like best is wherever Fenris is.

Melanthe: Awww!!

Hawke: And somewhere we’re not being attacked all the time.

Melanthe: I’m rather fond of that little oasis in the Western Approach. And the Wounded Coast. Storm Coast was pretty, too.

Eden, softly: I liked the Emerald Graves.

31. Are you interested in anyone?

Melanthe: We’re all dating someone at the moment. And we told you that.

32. That was a stupid question…

Hawke: We all say dumb things sometimes.

Melanthe: Some people more often than others.

33. Would you rather swim in the lake or the ocean?

Hawke and Melanthe: Ocean.

Eden: Lake.

34. What’s your type?

Melanthe: Type of what? Blood? Weapons?

Eden: Preferred type of magic?

[Hawke tries not to laugh and fails.] Broody and sometimes glowing.

35. Any fetishes?

[Melanthe smiles brightly.] Stabbing demons.

Hawke: If you think you’re going to get an answer to that, think again.

[Eden squirms and twists her bracelet around her hand.] Next question, please.

36. Camping indoors or outdoors?

Melanthe: Wait….indoor camping is a thing? What is it with you shems and constantly coming up with new nonsense?

Hawke: Pillow or blanket forts, I think.

Eden: …..outdoors?

I stayed up SO MUCH LATER THAN I SHOULD HAVE writing this, but heck if it wasn’t awesome!

[monstersandmaw]

Hi, Ghosti. I just want to tell you what an amazing author you are. I absolutely love all of your orc boyfriends and orc girlfriends. I wanted to tell you that Khurutz and the reader remind me of a web comic by Pet Foolery, Brutus and Pixie. Pet Foolery is an artist on Instagram. It would be neat if Khurutz and the reader had similar pets to Brutus and Pixie to reflect their personalities. :)

*ugly ugly happy crying and wibbling everywhere*

I really, really needed this today, and you have no idea how happy you made me. Thank you. Sometimes it’s hard to keep going with writing, even when the need to write is etched as deeply into my soul as it is. I don’t talk personal all that often on here because I know folks have it so much worse than me, but I’m going through a tough slump at the moment, mentally and physically, and I’m honestly kind of tired, and more than a bit drained, but messages like this bring me back to a place where I want to write again. Bless you. 

I also know and love the comic you mentioned, and Khuruz is definitely a bit like Brutus! I love the idea of them getting doggos like that. Maybe Khuruz gets a big gruff ex-fighting pit dog like a mastiff (or mabari if you’re into Dragon Age), with one ear ripped off and a big scar on her face, and he gives her a safe place to retire to, while the reader sees this tiny ball of floof and just has to adopt him... *my heart* 

[harelan]

its that dragon age questionnaire

tagged by @falkreathh​ and oh god oh fuck other people probably

tagging. you. you!!!!! 

1. favourite game of the series?

dai :/ listen, there’s no part of dai that i go “oh god not this part” during so.

2. how did you discover dragon age?

my brother bought me dao for my... uh nineteenth birthday? i think? but i got stuck early on and quit. and then that summer when me and jonah reconnected we were talking about video games and i said i’d bought dragon age and he was like “I LOVE DRAGON AGE” so i sat down and played it. also fun fact, i bought a thousand dollar gaming computer because i wanted to play inquisition and my laptop couldn’t handle it. 

3. how many times you’ve played the games?

uh all the way through? dao once, da2 twice, dai once. to be clear i have 350 hours in dai, but i’ve only finished it once. so. 

4. favourite race to play as?

elfs elfs elfs elfs

5. favourite class?

mage!!!!!!!!!

6. do you play through the games differently or do you make the same decisions each time?

uhhhhhh i mean i have like a “canon” worldstate that i replay, but i do test out the different options. especially dai. also i have mods that let me romance everyone at once so yes i romance the same person over and over, but it’s everyone. 

7. go-to adventuring group?

origins: cecil, alistair, leliana, wynne da2: rogue!hawke, fenris, varric, merrill/anders inquisition: matilda, solas, blackwall, cole | galani, blackwall, dorian, varric | rosanna, blackwall, vivienne, cassandra (hey can you tell who my favorite character is)

8. which of your characters did you put the most thought into?

matilda, definitely. i think rosanna has the most complicated morality and backstory, but i’ve spent the most time building matilda. 

9. favourite romance?

issa tie between blackwall and solas. like blackwall’s in-game scenes are the best, but the implications of solas’ romance are wonderful. 

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

i’ve read through bits of world of thedas, but nah. 

11. if you read them, which was your favourite book?

the dalish recipes in WoT are cute. 

12. favourite DLCs?

oh fuck i haven’t PLAYED the da2 dlc (i just got it!) and i haven’t played awakening either :( but trespasser and jaws of hakkon are VERY good dai dlc. 

13. things that annoy you.

how vivienne is written :( i want to like her so badly and i feel like... if you could actually discuss mage rights w/ her and change her mind and help her realized how she’s been hurt and how pulling the ladder up after her is bad... idk. also how varric and hawke are written wrt anders but that’s a common complaint. 

14. orlais or ferelden?

o. orlais...... i don’t think it’s better but it’s way more interesting imo. .

15. templars or mages?

all templars are bastards. 

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

they all exist in the same universe! and usually know each other. like in my canon universe, miriam and rosanna are friends and galani meets rosanna at halamshiral and they’re all pals. 

rosanna has my bad worldstate where alistair was exiled and cecil died slaying the archdemon so they uh don’t know each other as neatly. miriam becomes teryna of highever instead of fergus and probably provides aid to the mage rebellion, so she knows matilda that way, and rosanna is still friends with her. 

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

cecil names his mabari frances. galani rides a halla that’s named leanos

18. have you installed any mods?

i don’t love a game unless i’ve modded it to shit. dai is probably my most heavily modded tho. 

19. did your warden want to become a grey warden?

he wasn’t....averse to it. he and miriam are both very dutiful, so he kind of looked at it like “this is what i have to do” and he did it. so he didn’t want it, but he didn’t resist. 

20. hawke’s personality?

red hawke is where it’s at. 

21. did you make matching armor for your companions in inquisition?

nope! i make armor based on what i think that character would look good in. though i use a lot of fade touched silverite so that everyone just has guard out the ass and is untouchable. 

like, i put cassandra in dragon bone/webbing/leather, blackwall in silverite, solas in lambswool/cotton, vivienne in silk. stuff like that. 

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

matilda would save orsino, i think. rosanna would run away from home. miriam wouldn’t go to university. idk about cecil and galani, i don’t have their backstories fleshed out enough. 

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

blackwall looks like his concept art lol. i tend to write solas differently from canon tho i can’t pinpoint exactly what. the shit alistair does in silent grove isn’t canon. 

24. are any of your characters based on someone?

nah. i mean, besides me? galani is based a little on my sister. 

25. who did you leave in the fade?

stroud in galani’s playthrough, hawke in rosanna’s (but hawke is an asshole in rosanna’s)

26. favourite mount?

i have a mod that makes the hart look like a halla :) so... hart/halla. 

[tk-duveraun]

You know why I'm back with more (ಥ﹏ಥ) 17: “ Are you upset with me? ”54: “ I can’t stand the thought of loosing you. ”63: “ Whats the matter? ” ????

Teenage runaways AU. Additional prompt by @lyriumyue

Ada was not used to having to look for her husband. He was loud, with bright, red hair and an even brighter personality. Not everyone liked him, but everyone tended to respond viscerally when he was around, so he was easy to find, even in Skyhold.

So it was with no small amount of trepidation that Ada finally gave in and approached Cole for help.

“Such small, fragile things. I could snap my fingers and, poof, gone, forgotten,” Cole said before she could even greet him.

“Is that what Fox is thinking?” Ada asked. She glanced up at the roof of the Herald’s Rest, even though she couldn’t see through the wood. She’d checked the battlements twice, so it seemed unlikely that Fox was looking down on the soldiers or refugees.

(It didn’t occur to her that those were not normal thoughts to have about other living, breathing people, but she was used to Fox.)

“Yes. Shielding, shading, protecting.” Cole tipped his floppy hat back and looked her in the eyes. Ciel had mentioned something about making him more human. Ada wasn’t sure if that would be better. Cole turned and pointed at the wall behind him. “The old storeroom that smells of spring. He’s there.”

“Thank you!” Ada hugged him before leaving the tavern. While usually she’d respond to The Iron Bull’s lewd remark with one of her own, Ada was too busy trying to figure out what lives Fox could be crushing in a storeroom when she walked past the training grounds.

Spiders? It could be spiders, but he was rather fond of them. Their webs were good for wounds, she knew. Certainly not kittens, but all of Skyhold’s kittens were firmly ensconced in the stables with the mabari puppies when not pulling shifts with the healers and soldiers. Pillbugs? Ada was really at a loss.

She also tripped over the chicken coop on her way into the storeroom, but no one saw it, so it didn’t count. When she opened the door, it was to the sound of Fox shushing her gently. “What’s the matter?”

He was laid out on the floor with one arm splayed awkwardly out while the other gestured her closer. “Shh, look.” Slowly, he tilted his hand on the floor revealing a cluster of tiny, shivering chicks. “One of the cats killed their mom. I caught Tani scolding him.”

Ada held back her instinctive squeak of pleasure. She nearly threw herself on the floor in her haste. She held her hand near his. “Let me, let me.”

Fox chuckled and put his free arm over her shoulders. He laid his arm along the top of hers and cupped his hand over hers, turning it until it was just so. After a moment, he whistled a low note. It was obviously magic, since it didn’t hurt her ears.

One by one, the chicks peeked out from under Fox’s hand and skittered out to under Ada’s. Each tiny movement made their baby down brush against her palm and she wanted a hundred of them. “They’re so darling, but what are you going to do without the mother to feed them?”

“Some judicious Creation magic should work. Mamae taught me the theory behind the technique, though thankfully we haven’t had to use it. Her explanation was better than your father’s, even without magic. Apparently, Varga’lidan is pants at it, even though the rest of his spells work fine.”

Ada giggled. “I can’t imagine Varga’lidan cuddling a fawn until it felt better.”

Fox nuzzled behind her ear. “Yes, well, that’s why you have me.”

[irlaimsaaralath]

“You don’t have to stay forever. I would understand.”

I’ve discovered that when I’m feeling vulnerable and wounded or sad and fragile, I write about Cullen. 

So!  That said…

Let’s imagine that Cullen didn’t get a chance to propose before the Inquisitor lost her arm.  For, uh, reasons.

(Thanks so much for the ask!)

No one would tell Cullen exactly what had happened, only that something had and that Caitlin needed him.  He’d managed to make it through the vast lengths of hallways and small chambers of the Winter Palace at no more than a brisk stride, clinging to some semblance of self-restraint, until he entered the short passage that led to the secluded wing that housed the infirmary.  He’d taken no more than three steps before her scream shattered the air, rebounding along the marble floors to hit him squarely in the center of his chest.  The sound made every inch of his skin go cold, and he was running before he’d had time to fully process what he’d heard.  A few nobles were milling about in the hallway directly outside the infirmary, and he shouldered through them roughly and without apology as he burst through the door.  What he saw stopped him dead in his tracks.

Most of her body was hidden beneath Bull’s as he laid across her legs, arms folded over her hips to hold her down, while Blackwall was braced down on both of her shoulders.  He caught only glimpses of her face, her normally tanned skin ashen, violet eyes wide and wild with pain and fear, and her crimson hair stringy and plastered to her brow and cheeks with sweat and blood.  Every time she managed to catch her breath, she wailed, the sound long and wretched between panting sobs.  Her marked hand and the arm attached to it were mangled, draped off the side of the table where she lay, and an ever-growing pool of blood was spreading across the floor beneath it.  His mouth was suddenly dry, and he felt like he was shaking all over.  Maybe he was.  He started toward her with determined strides, but Cassandra put herself in his way.  

Without thought and with his hands on her upper arms, he forcibly moved the Seeker aside.  He was single-minded, focused, and he didn’t even realize Cassandra had been speaking to him until both she and Krem caught him and drug him a few steps back.  His temper flared hot, hardening his eyes and calling a dark flush to his cheeks as he finally acknowledged the Seeker with an impatient glare.  “What?  What is it?”  A glance was passed between Krem and Cassandra, and the latter frowned at Cullen.  “You need to listen.  It’s the mark.  She no longer has it, but its removal has…damaged her arm…beyond repair.  We need to amputate it to save her life, but…”  The Seeker shook her head as she stared meaningfully up at Cullen, waiting for understanding to dawn on the man.  Slowly, so slowly, it began to, and it drained the color from his face as he looked away from his captors to Caitlin.  

“But, she won’t let you,” he finally said, never taking his eyes off of Caitlin.  Cassandra nodded at Krem, and they both loosened their hold on Cullen, and he stood there dazedly for a moment before he spoke again.  “And you’re certain it can’t be…”  The Seeker shook her head, murmuring a reluctant Yes, we’re certain.  The Commander nodded and pushed between them.  He drew up behind Blackwall, and a hand on his shoulder moved the other man.  Cullen took his place, laying his arm aside hers to fix his grip on her forearm.  She blindly clutched at the offered arm, fingers digging in as he leaned his weight on her shoulder.  Her eyes immediately snapped over to him and, for the first time since he’d arrived, some manner of coherence settled over her.  Her screaming had left her hoarse, and she clenched her hand on him painfully as she tried to speak.  “Solas…it was Solas.  The orb, the Breach, my-,” and her words broke off into a fractured cry as a crackle of energy sizzled along her skin, green glowing veins that webbed from beneath her collar to stroke the base of her throat.

He couldn’t even begin to keep the sorrow from his eyes, the anguish.  All he could do was nod, saying, “We’ll deal with him later, love.  Right now, we need to see to you.”  She was still yanking at her bloodied arm when the surgeon looked over at Cullen and quietly said, “This needs to be done now.  She doesn’t hav-,” and a stern look from the Commander silenced the man.  “Don’t let them take it, Cullen,” Caitlin was whispering, the bulk of her voice lost to the screaming.  Over and over, she begged, “Please” and “Don’t.”  The former Templar had to look up for a moment, away, else the tears gathering in his eyes would surely fall.  He found Dorian with the brief glance, the Altus standing only a few feet away, stricken and tense with both worry and anger.  A jerk of Cullen’s chin brought him over, and he leaned to whisper something into the mage’s ear.  Dorian nodded in return, a grim expression settling on his dark features.  

“Listen, Cait.  Listen to me,” Cullen said, releasing her shoulder so that he could take her chin in hand.  The Altus held her shoulders to give the Commander this opportunity, and the Inquisitor was helpless but to let her head be turned.  She stared up at him, and he pushed her hair back from her brow.  “We have to do this, Cait.  Otherwise, you won’t survive…and if you don’t survive, I’m not sure I will, either,” he struggled to say, his voice thick with emotion – fear, guilt – as he rested his palm against her cheek.  “No,” she pleaded, squirming beneath the hands that held her, but her waning energy had stolen the fight from the effort.  “Please, Cullen,” was her final plea, tears rolling back from the corners of her eyes and into her hairline.  “I know you trust me, Cait.  Close your eyes,” he asked, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.  “Close your eyes.  It’ll be alright.”  With a shuddering breath, she did as she was told, and Cullen nodded at Dorian.  Tendrils of magic seeped from his fingertips as they rose to her temples, and her muscles immediately went slack as she fell into unconsciousness.

Cullen never let go of her arm and didn’t bother to wipe away the tears that had fallen on his cheeks as he looked to the surgeon and spoke with tense sorrow.  

“Do it.”

Sometime during his ceaseless vigil, Cullen had finally fallen asleep.  Stretched out in a ridiculously large Orleasian armchair, his elbow was braced on its arm and his head had fallen into his upturned hand.  His other hand rested limply in his lap, and his mabari had squirmed its way beneath one of his legs so that it dangled while the other was fully extended.  An entire day had passed, and Caitlin still had not woken; Cullen had asked Dorian to check at least half a dozen times to make sure that she wasn’t still under the effects of his spell.  The Altus humored him in a way that was rare, without sarcasm and without mirth, in a demonstration that he knew what it was that Cullen and Caitlin had lost.  Once resigned to the knowledge that waiting was all that could be done, that is exactly what he did.  

At times, he sat quietly in the chair, elbows on his knees as he watched the slow rise and fall of her chest.  Other times, he paced back and forth at the foot of the bed, each measured step accompanied by a doubt, a question.  What could he have done differently?  Would it have made a difference if he’d been with her?  Where was Solas?  If he ever found the answer to that question, it would be the last thing the elf would ever have to worry about.  Still other times found him on his knees at her bedside, her hand clasped in both of his, forehead resting against her knuckles.  And, he prayed.  

But, now…now he slept.  It was dreamless and light, the kind of sleep that left half of the mind wakeful, listening for any hint of a disturbance.  What roused him, however, was not a noise, but a nudge.  His mabari had wriggled from beneath his leg and was bumping his head against Cullen’s knee.  Despite trying to ignore it, the addition of a whine to the prodding pulled amber eyes open as he shushed the insistent creature.  But once the dog had his attention, it plodded over to the bedside and stared over the edge.  Cullen followed the creature’s gaze and found Caitlin’s eyes fluttering fitfully as a frail noise escaped her lips.  He was on his feet so quickly the chair was pushed back several inches, and it took only a single step to bring him within reach of her.  Pulling her hand into his, he sat carefully on the edge of the bed, knee bent as he leaned to cup his hand beneath her jaw.  

She was warm, no longer chilled by blood loss, and her skin had regained a rosy blush that had settled in her cheeks.  Lifting her hand, he pressed his lips against her knuckles, and finally, her eyes blinked open and her head fell aside to draw her gaze down on him.  Her sight seemed unfocused, and a few more bats of her lids narrowed her vision on him.  The ghost of a smile lifted the corners of her mouth, and her fingers curled on his.  “Cullen,” she said, voice small and hoarse, his name uttered as if to be sure he was real and not a figment of her imagination.  His breath left him all at once, half sigh, half huff of grateful laughter, and he nodded at her as he pressed her open palm against his unshaven cheek.  “I’m here.  Maker, you had me worried,” he said in a rush, brushing his lips to her knuckles again, struggling against the compulsion to kiss her lips, her brow, her eyelids.  

She murmured groggily, shifting as if trying to sit herself up against the headboard, but the motion only threw her off-balance as her weight shifted to an arm that was no longer there to support her.  Only his grip on her arm held her upright, and a flash of panic washed over her features, draining the color from her cheeks.  “Cullen?”  It was a question, a plea for an explanation as she turned her widened eyes to him.  He had already drawn her closer to keep her upright, and he pulled her the rest of the way into his arms before her first tear fell.  One arm curled around her waist as the other climbed into her hair, and she said his name again, her desperation evident in the anguish of her voice and the frantic clutch of her hand in his shirt.  She was shaking against him, and he couldn’t be certain if it was shock or sobs or both, but he was holding her tightly, as if trying to absorb her pain through touch.  

“It’s alright, Cait,” he said into her hair, against her ear, and he could feel the warmth of her tears soaking through cotton covering his shoulder.  It’s real.  That phrase, over and over, she repeated, each utterance more forlorn than the last.  Her grief was his, and it tore at his insides, constricted around his heart like a vise, and there was nothing…absolutely nothing…he could do to make it better.  And, so he held her, rocked her gently for a length of time he lost track of, until her sobs quieted to muffled weeping then to shuddering breaths chased by tears that had slowed to a trickle.  Her cheek was turned against his shoulder, her mouth near his neck, and the deep breath she took chilled the tear-damp collar of his shirt.  They sat in complete silence for a very long time, with only the sounds of their breaths and the soft rustle of fabric to remind them that shock had not rendered them deaf.

Her fingers twisted in his shirt, and beneath his hands, she grew tense.  He felt it come over her in increments until at last she let her fingers fall away.  Her voice was almost hollow when she spoke, “You don’t have to stay.”  While he didn’t move, her words shot ice through him, every nerve trembling as if unable to absorb the shock.  “I would understand.  This isn’t what yo-…isn’t how it was supposed to be,” she said with a trembling breath, and he could feel beneath his hand the tension that bunched the muscles in her neck.  He drew back from her then, one hand heavy on her shoulder as the other molded to the side of her face, fingers bent along her jaw and over her ear as he held her with gentle strength.  “You listen to me, Caitlin Alexandra Trevelyan,” he began, his voice stern but choked with emotion.  “My place is at your side.  I will go anywhere that may take me, and I will not have it otherwise.”  

She still wasn’t looking at him, her eyes cast down and away.  “How can you say that?” she asked, the words lost and desolate as she glanced at her missing arm.  “I…”  Bitter tears welled in her eyes, and she sucked in a harsh breath through her teeth.  “You deserve someone who can hold you, Cullen.  Someone whole.”  The sound he made was indelicate and incredulous, and he firmly pulled her face up, though her eyes fell aside to avoid his gaze.  “We’re going to sit here until you look at me.”  Stubbornly, she sat unmoving, and just as obstinate, he stared at her, his fingers tight on her chin.  A whisper of a sigh parted her lips, and she reluctantly lifted her eyes to his, and the intensity of his gaze stole her breath.  

“With all that has passed between us…the nightmares you’ve seen me through, the doubts you’ve silenced,” his voice was low, rough, and he swept a broad thumb over her cheek as his fingers slid into her hair.  “After all the times I have asked you how you could love someone so broken, only to be assured that you would spend the rest of our lives proving to me that I wasn’t,” he said, head canting when her eyes momentarily fell, but he easily recaptured her gaze.  “And you’re going to say that to me?”  Abashed, she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and let her weight sag into his steady grip as she closed her eyes.  When she failed to respond, he leaned forward and pressed his forehead to hers.  His fingers curled tenderly in the hair above her ear as his thumb stroked her cheek.  “Marry me, Caitlin.  And let me spend the rest of our lives proving how perfect you are,” he said, leaning back just enough to find her eyes, now opened wide and taken back, before he finished, “and how easy I am to hold with only one arm.”  

An awkward smile tugged at one side of his mouth, pulling at the scar on his upper lip, and her eyes flashed back and forth over his as her brow knitted.  His hand in her hair pulled her in, and he set his mouth against hers and whispered, “Marry me,” before he brushed a kiss along her upper lip, repeated the words, then swept another across her bottom lip.  She made a fragile sound, a high-pitched mewl, as he captured her lips in a full, but soft kiss, which she deepened when she wrapped her arm over his shoulder and curled her fingers to clutch at the nape of his neck.  Always at her command, he held her tighter, closer, and poured himself into the embrace of his mouth on hers.  All of the fear that the past day had held, the sorrow and the relief, the love that never wavered, only grew, and every beat of his heart.  It was hers.  He was hers.  And, though he was breathless when he pulled back, he asked a very simple question:  “Yes?”  He could hear the smile in her voice, felt the curve of her lips as she committed the answer to his lips, each of his cheeks, his brow – every kiss was accompanied by a single ardent word:  “Yes.”

[kinlochhold]

DAO Spiders Replaced [ALPHA]

DAO Spiders Replaced Version: untested Alpha Date: 2017/12/18 Category: Meh. Author: theskymoves

================= Requirements: =================

Dragon Age: Origins

================= Description, details, installation, blah blah blah: =================

Some various shoddy replacements for the spiders in DAO. None of these versions have been tested in-game (I lost interest in the project halfway through), and even if they do work, they are gonna be unbalancing. Caveat modder and all that...

I've replaced all three spider versions with various other critters... some make more sense than others and all would have balance issues, but this was a personal 'can I do this?' project and not something intended for actual gameplay or release.

Note the 'floaty name' for the creatures will still read 'Poisonous Spider'/'Giant Spider'/'Corrupted Spider'. The Spider-related codex entries should still trigger. There will still be spider webs and cocoons in the various levels where they would normally be found.

What should be changed is the appearance and animation of the creatures. *fingers crossed*

I have no idea how (or if) this will affect Ranger Summons or Shapeshifting forms. (I suspect not, but again, caveat modder.)

There are seven different versions included; install only ONE, by placing the folder for the desired option into the manual override folder.

1 - tsm_spiders_2_bears:

Spider, Corrupted changed to Bear, Beareskarn Spider, Giant changed to Bear, Great Spider, Poisonous changed to Bear, Black

2 - tsm_spiders_2_wolves:

Spider, Corrupted changed to Wolf, Blight Spider, Giant + Spider, Poisonous changed to Wolf

3 - tsm_spiders_2_deepstalker:

All three types of Spiders changed to Deepstalker

4 - tsm_spiders_2_mabari:

All three types of Spiders changed to Dog, Mabari (a la the spider replacement mod for DA2)

5 - tsm_spiders_2_rats:

All three types of Spiders changed to Rat, Large

6 - sm_spiders_2_dragons:

Spider, Corrupted changed to Dragon, Normal Spider, Giant changed to Dragon, Drake Spider, Poisonous changed to Dragonling

7 - tsm_spiders_2_mix:

Spider, Corrupted changed to Dragon, Drake Spider, Giant changed to Dragonling Spider, Poisonous changed to Deepstalker

[Nexus] [Mediafire]