exalted-dawn-drabbles

[exalted-dawn-drabbles]

I am of the firm opinion that all F!Tabris deserve every single comfort in the world, so 😭 and/or 🥰 for Shaesa from the Comfort my Character ask game :D

😭- A shoulder to cry on

🥰- Post-nightmare cuddles

This one works for one of @isseya-apologist ‘s requests as well so I’ll tag you for this and write your other prompt!

Original Ask Game Post

-*-*-

A hesitant arm wrapped around her shoulder, pulling her in close to the bulk mass that was Alistair’s chest. He was warm, and gentle in spite of his size.

“If…If you need a shoulder,” he murmured quietly, his own eyes crusted with tears.

Shaesa nearly scoffed. Not at him, though he did look a bit pitiful. No. She scoffed at the situation. If anyone had told her a few weeks ago that she’d be sitting out in the middle of the wilds, being comforted by some human boy who she’d only known for two days, she would have assumed they had smoked some bad elfroot. If they had told her it was because the Blight in her veins forced her to have nightmares of songs and dragons perched at the head of armies, she would have taken them to a clinic.

And yet, here she was.

“I’d understand,” he added after a moment of her silence. “It was bad for me at first too.”

Her eyes were dry, but for some reason, Alistair’s low, comforting voice in her ear made her eyes sting more than the fear from her dreams. Her mother used to hold her just like this when she’d had nightmares as a child. She would speak in quiet tones and rub her back in slow circles until her breathing calmed.

The sudden reminder of loss hurt far more than any imagined terror could.

Unbidden, a single tear rolled down her cheek, and Shaesa pushed into Alistair’s shoulder for just a moment so that she could wipe it away. Blind to the reason why, his hands came up and held her into a loose embrace, simply holding her. It did not feel romantic, or even familiar. It was not the casual hug of a friend or the fierce squeeze of a concerned family member. This was simply two strangers who knew the same pain, comforting one another.

It hardly lasted more than a few seconds before Shaesa pulled away. Gods, what would her cousins think, if they saw her like this?

Shaesa offered a smile. “Shame on you, for taking advantage of a woman in her time of need.”

Alistair laughed. “Ah, yes— no one is safe from my dastardly ways. Next, I think I’ll go find a small child to steal from.”

“I’d bet if you asked Morrigan, she would be happy to help,” Shaesa said, scrubbing at her eye to ensure there was no residual dampness.

“And probably cackle like a crazed hag all the while,” Alistair snorted derisively. “Perhaps I shouldn’t after all. Maker forbid I’m ever found to be in agreement with that swamp witch.”

“Your reputation would never recover.”

They both laughed, and Alistair pushed back to his feet. Turning, he looked back and extended a hand to Shaesa. “Would the lady like an escort back to her tent?”

Rolling her eyes, Shaesa slapped aside his hand and stood on her own. “I can find my own way back to my tent, thank you.”

Alistair hugged his hand to his chest with over exaggerated offense, as if burnt. “Curses! Another dastardly scheme, foiled! I must retreat to my secret lair before I die of shame.” His face stretched into a wide, laughing grin. He took a few steps backwards, towards his own tent, and dipped his head in a slight nod. “Night, Shae.”

What a weird guy.

Shaesa smiled back. “Night.”

[exalted-dawn-drabbles]

Comfort My Character Ask Game

Rules: This sounded fun so decided to do this but send me an emote from the below list as well as a character name and I'll write a little drabble for them of your chosen comfort!

And because I'm predictable, I am doing solely Dragon Age characters XD

Characters:

Shaesa Tabris- DAO, City Elf, She/Her

Ilren Cedoc- DAO, City Elf, They/He

Sunna Lindesdotten- DAO, Human Avvar, She/Her

Aylin Tevis- DAO, Noble Dwarf, She/Her

Alora Lavellan- DAI, Dalish Elf, She/Her

Reth- DAI, Tal Vashoth Qunari, She/Her

Talenna Ethera- DAI & DATV, Dalish Elf, She/Her

Deanna De Riva- DATV, Antivan Crow Human, She/Her

Emotes:

🛁 - A nice, relaxing bath

💤 - A few extra hours of sleep

🎬 - An uninterrupted movie night

🍽 - A special treat of their choice

☀️ - A nice day outside

🧣 - A fluffy blanket

🌸 - Something that calms them

🤗 - A warm hug

⛑ - Some tender first-aid

🛏 - Someone by their bedside when they wake up

🛎 - Someone at their beck and call

🥰 - Post-nightmare cuddles

☺️ - Soft words of reassurance

🤝 - Some help performing a basic task

🤫 - Some peace and quiet

🙃 - Someone to share their suffering with

🍳 - Breakfast in bed

📚 - A bedtime story

😭 - A shoulder to cry on

✋ - A hand carding gently through their hair

🧸 - A soft plushie

😌 - Someone gently brushing their hair

♟ - Board games/arts and crafts inside

Based on This Post

[exalted-dawn-drabbles]

Hi yes I come here with but a simple request on this lovely DADWC Friday: "stay like this." from the 'Morning After' smut prompt list for Talaeris?? (Bonus points if it's the Veilguard-era estranged Talaeris AU ;u;)

REMEMBER YOU ASKED FOR THIS for @dadrunkwriting Rated T: Nongraphic nudity, Nongraphic sexual themes, Angst, ~300 words

Stay Like This | By Exalted_Dawn

The room was quiet as she came to waking. Dim, in spite of the lack of night or day. The great, glass aquarium that lined her room glowed dimmer than normal, casting everything in a pale, grey blue rather than its normally vibrant azure color. 

She could feel sweat. It clung to her skin and wet her hair. It sealed all the spaces where their two bodies met. Despite the hours of sleep, the heat from last night had not died from their skin. But where it had been more than pleasant last night, waking to it was just stifling and uncomfortable. As if her body had forgotten what it was to share each other's heat. 

The idle thought sent bitterness through Talenna’s heart, and she stirred, pulling back from Saeris’ sleeping form. Perhaps it had been a mistake to share this so soon after their reunion. If he woke to the same realization- 

She had hardly managed to lift herself a few inches when his hands reached up and wrapped around her hips, tugging her back down to him. 

“Stay like this.” 

His voice sounded raw in her ear. Roughened. Though it had been spoken like a command, Talenna could feel the pained desperation of a plea lingering just beneath the surface. Saer’s arms tightened possessively around her, pulling her back in just that much further. Beneath the strength of it, his hands shook. 

Talenna felt a stab of pain wrench through her chest.

Wordlessly, she nodded and let herself settle again. The feeling of their naked bodies pressed back together was awkward and sticky. It took her some time to rediscover a position that was comfortable. It hurt, to lay with him like this. 

But the pain of leaving had always been worse. 

She would stay. 

She would stay.

[exalted-dawn-drabbles]

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO FOR DADWC, how about Lonan Mahariel x Helia Tabris "we’re the only ones left. you don’t get to die."

Happy Friday! | @dadrunkwriting

This one is a bit on the shorter side! However, I gave myself the feels towards the end and couldn't think of anything else to add. (Helia belongs to @fadeling)

Words: 276

Everyone had moved on, scattered to the winds. Helia and Lonan had remained together.

Early mornings had gotten harder. Lonan was used to waking up early, up before the sun began to stretch across the sky. Up before the birds and the halla, as his Keeper would chastise him for. 

It gave him time to make breakfast, as most mornings were quiet save for him moving around their space. A small cabin within days of Denerim, still far enough away for Lonan to be comfortable with being in one spot, but close enough for Helia to still visit her family. 

He had not heard their bedroom door open, or the soft footsteps that would follow. 

A soft thump hit his back, catching him off guard. “This is new.”

“Don’t ruin it.” 

“Alright… What is the occasion?”

Helia did not answer right away, her arms tightening around him instead. 

“Vhenan?”

“You’re not allowed to die.” Helia answered, her voice softer than before. “If you die, I’ll drag you right back.”

Lonan chuckled, turning off the stove. With some effort, he managed to twist, facing Helia and resting his chin on top of her head. “I don’t plan on dying anytime soon, vhenan… I promise.”

He didn’t ask what brought it on, knowing she would likely tell him later when she was more awake than the current state she was in. He held her, reassuring as he could. 

“Even when we are the last ones left, I won't leave you.” Lonan placed a kiss on her head, rubbing her back. “The Maker, the Creators… I’ll fight them all to be at your side until the end of time.”

[exalted-dawn-drabbles]

Happy DADWC! oooooooOOOOOOOOooooo how about "🎄 take me back to the night we met" for Sollavalan?

Ahhhhhh I cannot possibly express to you how much I love this song! Thank you for the prompt :)

@dadrunkwriting

---

She stands beside him, before a rift.

Many years ago, he stood beside her, before a different rift. The strangely prescient symmetry of these two moments, bookending all the pain of the intervening years. He took her hand, raised it toward the sky. How could she have known? She could not possibly know. And yet; in some solemn, shattered part of herself she already did.

In that very first glimpse, she had an echoing unprovoked thought, which she immediately dismissed as a delusion of her adrenaline and turmoil: this will change me. This will destroy me.

Now, more than a decade later? It did destroy her. And yet she cannot regret what has transpired. She was a child, then. She has become something else, in the intervening years. And the truth is that she likes what she has become. She is glad, to have been remade.

The world will not understand. They will think that she gave up her life for him; they will not recognise that she is simply releasing herself from the demands that they have always insisted on placing on her. That at last, at the very end, she chose herself instead of the ceaseless march of these hollow duties.

All these years, he has been slipping away from her; she had all of him, and yet, in a a single instant, none of him at all. But the truth is that she was never losing simply him. Across that terrible decade she has felt herself slipping from view; the word Inquisitor eating her name and then her soul. Come back, vhenan, she thought, in the desperate silence of those long dark nights. Come back, soon, or there will be nothing of me left to love you.

And yet; the time has come, and it is not too late. She is recovered, remade. The Fade calls to her. The Fade has always been home, to her. She feels its cool breath, on her skin, and she is tired of resisting its song.

She steps forward. 'But you do not have to go alone.'

His eyes lock on hers. She looks back at him, unafraid. He does not need to be alone. And nor does she. She steps forward, reaching for his hands. Neither of them will ever be alone again.

[exalted-dawn-drabbles]

We don’t talk enough about how fanfiction writers love to give character large amounts of non-specific paperwork they hate doing

[exalted-dawn-drabbles]

hello! from the one word prompts: "midnight" with talenna?

Thank you for the prompt! Here's a little drabble about how Talenna spends her sleepless nights at the Lighthouse, counting invisible stars. She misses her home and her bondmate ;w;

For @dadrunkwriting

Rated G: Slice of Life, Slight Angst, 400 words

Midnight | By Exalted_Dawn

It was midnight. 

Talenna sat perched over edge atop the dining hall, staring up at the sky. Pastel clouds the color of cornflower, amber, and seafoam floated overhead, blissfully unaware of what time of day it was supposed to be. The Fade had a way of being impertinent like that, but this one infraction felt especially personal at times like these. 

Try as she might to search, she never found any stars. 

She could sit here for hours, searching the spots where she knew they should be. The Mother’s Scales to the north… Visus the Watchful Eye to the southeast… directly overhead, the Voyager. 

Its absence squeezed like an unkind hand around her throat. 

“Rook?” 

Lucanis stood below, just a few paces out of the dining hall’s threshold. He was strapped up in his usual daggers and belts, looking to all the world as though he was about to wade off into a battlefield, save for the stark bags beneath his eyes. Finally some sort of reasonable proof for the late hour. 

“Is there any particular reason you have made yourself a gargoyle on top the cornice?” he asked, curiosity carrying his voice easily up the thirty feet to where she sat. 

“Mmm, depends. Is there any particular reason you’re wandering about armed with enough knives to decorate a porcupine?” she shot back. 

He shrugged. “The usual.” 

“Then ‘the usual’,” she quipped back, too tired to lace the words with her usual sass. Besides, she suspected they both already knew the real reason why either of them were up. As if it were a choice for either of them. 

“Are you in need of a sparring partner?” she asked, pushing away further thoughts of her sleeplessness as she stood. With a simple tug upon the woven Veil, she hurtled across the space between roof and ground and landed lightly in front of the assassin, her own knives already handily available on her belt. She drew one into her hand. “I could use the distraction.” 

He gestured behind him to the courtyard. “By all means.” 

Nodding, she strode past, leaving more unpleasant topics behind her. Considering the state of things, she shouldn’t be wasting time searching for stars that weren’t there. There was important work to do, and better ways to spend her unending daylight. Readying her weapon, she turned to face Lucanis. 

Midnight could wait until her war was won.

[exalted-dawn-drabbles]

Happy Friday! Talenna was an Agent of Fen'Harel? That's so juicy. How did she come to make the jump from that to the Veilguard?

Hehehehehe thank you for the interest! Well long story short, she was recruited by my inquisitor to infiltrate the Agents of Fen’harel on the promise that her family and clan would have the explicit protection of the inquisition in the event of another “world ending event”. She didnt know what she would be agreeing to when she was summoned in secret to Redcliffe, but after being debriefed of the information and asked by Varric, she agreed to go undercover. She stayed with the Agents for six years, where she befriended Merrill and also met Fenris while out on jobs :3 her initial purpose within the Agents was to try and gather information on how to either weaken Solas or disrupt his goals, and so when Solas suddenly disbanded the Agents and ordered them back to the Sanctuary (what I’m calling the location from Trespasser, where I headcanon he ran his operations from) she knew time was up, and thus abandoned her cover and helped to sabotage the ritual with the aid of Varric, Harding, and Neve!

[exalted-dawn-drabbles]

Illario Dellamorte and the role of First Talon

I've read a lot of speculation on the tags as to why Caterina favors Lucanis over Illario as her successor. While I know Veilguard offers its own implications, given that @nirikeehan and I have been writing a worldstate based solely off of pre-VG sources--such as The Wigmaker Job and Eight Little Talons--I got curious as to what those sources specifically tell us about Illario's talents and Caterina's likely perspective on the role.

Illario's Virtues

What qualities does Illario have going for him?

Illario is incredibly charismatic, in a striking and deliberate way. We learn from Lucanis’ perspective that Illario actively weaponizes his appearance and manner to great effect.

His “pretty-boy mask” seems to be more of a tool than a genuine facet of his personality, a costume he puts on to gain admiration from others and accomplish ends. He does seem to have a real interest in fashion (and, well, cleanliness, given the number of times he’s clearly put out by gore, and the scene where Lucanis expects to find him at the cleanest tavern at the docks), but he’s able to easily paint over the feelings of annoyance, frustration, and brotherly mischief he readily shows his cousin when he’s out to engineer a situation. Lucanis is grudgingly impressed by his skill.

I also love this little scene where Illario takes the lead on bluffing an approaching assassin, giving less socially adept Lucanis an effective opener and adding realistic sound effects. He has enough imagination to craft a convincing scenario on the spot and kick off some naturalistic banter.

We also learn that, though he can improvise, Illario is someone who values plans and active communication. He is clearly annoyed that Lucanis is playing things by ear after they discover Ambrose knows they’re coming, and working tactics out in his own head without informing him of what’s next.

A lot of Illario’s complaints, snarkiness towards Lucanis, and desire to find some joy in the job seems to be a response to this active exclusion (despite Lucanis viewing it as Illario’s unwillingness to work.)

Illario wants to actively discuss things—perhaps to swap ideas and collaborate better—and really prods at Lucanis when he’s unwilling to do that.

Frankly, I think the most interesting narrative dynamic in TWJ is how, given that we’re in Lucanis’ perspective, Illario at first does appear somewhat flippant and unserious, but as the story goes on and Lucanis starts taking extra risks and eventually goes fully off the rails (like, so off the rails that he’s effectively multi-track drifting), it becomes increasingly apparent that Illario is the more professional of the pair.

He gets annoyed that Lucanis is shirking an order, despite his own resentment for Caterina.

He gets upset at Lucanis’ willingness to identify himself to an enslaved person and leave her alive because it’s an operational security issue. He and Lucanis are foreign agents hired to kill a powerful, well-connected Tevinter nobleman. If she can provide a description of Lucanis, that puts Lucanis’ life at risk!

Later, Illario reaches Peak Pissed Off when Lucanis denies him a quick kill, makes the situation substantially more dangerous, and isn’t able to differentiate between his own vengeful thoughts and what Illario’s actually telling him. To Illario, the job is a job, a task to complete; emotions and greater political concerns are beside the point, and only threaten their own survival.

(There is no place for emotion in killing, as Caterina taught them—as Lucanis remembers and immediately ignores.)

Finally, I’ll note that though Lucanis’ physical talents surpass his, we see that apart from a master social engineer and a professional with an appreciation for plans, effective risk management and a sensibly limited scope of work, Illario’s a deadly combatant in his own right, too.

Caterina and the Role of First Talon

The question becomes: how do those assets match up to the job of First Talon?

Lucanis clearly believes Illario’s social skills fit the demands of the role:

In TWJ, we’re not given a solid reason, really, as to why Lucanis is the evident favorite. We are shown that Lucanis is an almost legendarily lethal assassin, kind of a Batman-esque terror hero (maybe more of just a 'protagonist' than a ‘hero’, if I'm honest.) Lucanis is larger than life in the eyes of his peers. In ELT mention of him makes Teia and Viago literally shudder:

And what’s interesting there is that the description of him as terrifying is presented alongside a description of First Talon Caterina as terrifying. She is not fair, she is ruthless. She previously subjected a House to such complete devastation that Teia, a younger colleague, has never heard of it.

Like Illario, Caterina is intentional about her appearance. She deliberately demonstrates her wealth and authority. She actively masks emotions that are at odds with what she’s trying to accomplish socially.

But she’s scary. She is fierce and unyielding and commands respect through not just through the resources of her House, or her capacity for planning, or her overall experience and intelligence, but fear.

In this way, Lucanis seems more like Caterina. If the role of First Talon, preeminent killer of killers, carries a heavy expectation of brutality for the sake of the Crows as an institution, then charming, fashionable, affable Illario may not look like an appropriate choice.

Illario is a capable, pragmatic assassin; his ability to endear himself to strangers is bar none; he appreciates the value of a thought-out plan and would likely take naturally to administrative work if he doesn’t have a hand in it already (perhaps there’s a reason why, per Lucanis, he doesn’t leave Treviso or have much in the way of foreign contacts.) But superficially: he’s pleasant. He’s pretty. He doesn’t like blood. He doesn’t fit the image.

He’s not even mentioned by Viago as someone of interest after Teia alludes to him indirectly (and amusingly implies that neither he nor Lucanis are sufficiently affectionate towards Caterina.) Illario's likely not perceived as a contender of importance.

It’s apparent, too, that Lucanis’ absolute freakout in TWJ is not Lucanis’ standard operating procedure, given how shocked and furious Illario is with him—normally Lucanis is committed to his contracts, if kind of flying by the seat of his pants. His potentially compromising expressions of empathy towards servants and lower-class folks are evidently not usual for him since they surprise Illario, who otherwise seems to know him well. And while Lucanis is avoidant of Caterina, he respects her, and seems to have previously only nudged at his boundaries while still getting his work done, rather than actively making a mess of things in a way that might invite her scorn.

Illario, for what it's worth, doesn’t seem to be obnoxious towards her either—he expresses some bitterness to Lucanis, but rather than bothering Caterina about the matter himself, he wants Lucanis to open the conversation on his behalf. He’s tense about the potential for conflict and acknowledges her fear-based influence over both of them.

In all, I don’t think, textually, that Caterina’s disfavor of Illario is due to him being unqualified for the job of First Talon in terms of his actual skills, or due to some sort of interpersonal conflict between them. Maybe she even has a decent sense of his ability and track record, given that she had a hand in training him and is actively overseeing her House's affairs. Rather, I suggest she’d prefer someone who would match her leadership style, someone who would rule more through fear than love, who could adopt the persona other Crows expect in service of their collective survival. And certainly even up to the time that she’s set to summon Lucanis, Lucanis seems like the more suitable choice.

Caterina doesn't know that Lucanis has been growing a conscience, that he’s behaving erratically, that he said “fuck the job” amid Illario’s protestations. War looms on the horizon, the Crow leadership is gutted, and it's logical enough for her to figure that her legacy will need to be one of cold-blooded shows of force, not the persuasions of a silver tongue.

[exalted-dawn-drabbles]

It's very easy to select the text of a fic and copy-paste it on Ao3, right?

Well, we can stop people (and AI) from doing this by adding a skin to our fics!

I just did it with all my fics and it works.

How to do it, step by step⬇️

1) Log in. Click 'Skins' in the menu, at the left. Then click 'My Work Skins' and after doing this, click 'Create Work Skins' at the top right.

2) Write a title for your skin (anything you want, it doesn't matter). Then in the large text box, write this:

#workskin * {

user-select: none !important;

-webkit-user-select: none;

-moz-user-select: none;

-ms-user-select: none;

}

This is what you should see:

3) Click 'Submit'. Your skin has been created, and now you have to add it to all your works.

4) Click 'Works'. Then click 'Edit Works' at the top right.

5) Click 'All' to select all your works. Scroll down and click 'Edit'.

6) Scroll down until you see 'Select Work Skin' and select the one you just created.

7) Click 'Update All Works'.

Now, people can't select the text of your fics and copy it😊

PS: I also recommend changing the visibility of your fics to 'Only Show to Registered Users'. You'll lose your anon readers, but it will protect your works a bit more against AI scrappers

[exalted-dawn-drabbles]

Yes, I ALSO live in your ask box. For Talaeris (estranged pilfs), I'm begggging for "i hate it when you leave." ;u;

WELP YOU ASKED FOR IT. Here's a little snip from DA4 in the moments leading up to the battle of minrathous.

For @dadrunkwriting

Rated G: Angst, Established Relationships, Rediscovering trust, ~750 words

At the End of All Things | Exalted_Dawn

Strong fingers formed a vice around her wrist. They were calloused, and rough with cracked skin and dried blood. They held to her tightly, trembling with the force of the grasp, and yet Talenna did not flinch away from the touch. In spite of the years, her body still knew. Still remembered. 

This was not the hand of someone who would ever mean her harm.

She froze, waiting for the broken-edged plea that never came. For a moment, they just stood, him holding her, neither moving. 

Around them, the world threatened to fall to chaos, but in the span of that silence, it was as though everything had paused if only to allow them the grace of regret. 

Spine stiffening, Talenna attempted to pull her hand free. “I must go,” she whispered, and let the full weight of her sorrow in those three words come to bear. Even her attempt to free her arm was a reluctant one, she knew. Far from strong enough to break Saeris’ resolve. 

His grip on her wrist tightened. “Not without me. Not again.” 

“But Salean and Hanehn-”

“Can’t afford to lose their mother a second time,” he cut in, his voice hard. “And neither can I. I’m not letting you go out there alone.” 

She wasn’t alone. She had her team, and for however long it was good, Solas’ alliance. More importantly, the Fade was not a secure place for their children, and neither was the burning Minrathous. Someone needed to see them to safety. 

It was a point she might have argued, had she not known Saeris’ heart as well as she did. But because she knew, she understood that no one would have agonized more over their safety than him. No one would have taken the weight of that choice in deeper than he. So knowing that, she knew he begged her now with that in mind. 

And she knew, deep down, that he was right. Fighting without him was like fighting without an arm or a leg. He was a part of her, and to leave him behind now… 

But no. The alternative– to risk losing him after all this time, after all she gave up to save him– scared her more. So then, what argument was there left to make?

“I…” 

What point was there in saving a world that did not have him in it? Already, she had lost too much. If something were to happen to him as well-

“I could not bear it,” she bit out through gritted teeth. The words trembled with her breath. “Saeris. Ma’vhenan. If you were to die…” She would not survive it. Not without him to home her heart. 

The tension in their locked arms slackened as Saeris pulled her in close. His hand cupped her cheek as if to steer her gaze, but she did not shy from him in this. This one precious truth she clung to, that had been her haven: All of this would have been worth it, if it meant saving them. It was for that that she persisted. And it was why she stared him down now. 

He did not shrink from her. 

“I would rather die by your side than live a thousand years without you,” he said with gentle determination. He lowered his brow to hers. “Do not leave me again. Sathan.” 

Because then he would not survive it. 

Either way, she lost him, save but for one. 

“Alright.” 

She withered against him, fitting all her parts to his as if they could then not be separated. She breathed him in, scenting soap and lemons beneath the mask of ashen brimstone. The smell filled her with courage some. Sighing, she knit her hand with his. “But if we do this, then neither of us are allowed to die. I’m shite at goodbyes.” 

He tugged her close, arms wrapping her up so as to even hold the idea of her close. “Then why do you insist on running off so much?”

Because she loved him. 

“Because I am stubborn,” she laughed. “And a fool.”

“Then I guess I will just need to be as stubborn and foolish as you are.” He bent and kissed her. “Wherever you go, I go. We do this together.” 

No more goodbyes. Just trust. Just him.

“...Together,” she agreed. 

If she must stand against the end of all things, then at least she need not leave him again. She hated doing that.

[exalted-dawn-drabbles]

last line tag game

I was tagged by @effelants to post the last line of writing I’ve recently written 🥰🥰🥰

I’ve been working on two fics at the same time recently, and been editing both so I’m just gonna post the last line from both since I can’t strictly remember which one I had been working on last 😂

The first is a w|w fic with Effe’s character Amalia and my non-Inquisitor DAI OC, Talenna. They may or may not be angry kissing in Inquisitor Amalia’s office 😌💖

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Talenna knew she was taking this too far. She had only meant to rattle the Inquisitor some. To provoke her into confronting what had happened between them, and shake that ridiculous mask of perfection she insisted upon wearing everywhere she went. It was too much of a mirror to herself, and since the Inquisitor was an inescapable presence here, Talenna had decided to simply shatter it.

The second is a Wolfwalkers inspired AU with Tal and @oxygenforthewicked ‘s OC Saeris. And Tal do be hunting some wolves :3c

“Sky will be getting dark soon,” Shiaren pointed out. “If the thing is even half as injured as it should be after having a tree like that dropped on it, it won’t be getting far any time soon. We can come back in the morning and hunt it then.”

Talenna shook her head. “We shouldn’t risk it. The rains could roll through sometime in the night and wash away everything, and then we’d be right back where we were before. This is the best lead we’ve had in a full three-span. To waste it would be to spit in the Huntress’ face. And the Lady of Fortune favors a bold hunt.”

As such, ima be tagging @oxygenforthewicked uwu gimme the ghae polycule crack fic please I desire it

[exalted-dawn-drabbles]

[exalted-dawn-drabbles]

INQUISITION TRAVEL TIMES

requested by a bunch of people tbh

distances taken from this and this, transport speeds from this

more maps: origins, awakening, thedas, assorted

request a map!

all the routes below begin at skyhold

map close-ups here

to redcliffe village (1) / fort connor (2)

total distance: 220 miles | horseback time: 10 days 70 miles on mountainous roads to haven : dark purple 8 days on foot | 4 ½ days forced march | 3 ½ days on horseback | 2 days fast carriage | 1 day horse relay + 120 miles on mountainous roads to the hinterlands outskirts : dark green 13 days on foot | 6 days on horseback | 3 days fast carriage | 2 days horse relay + 30 miles on hilly trails to redcliffe village : orange / to fort connor : light purple 2 days on foot | 1 ½ days forced march | 1 day on horseback | ½ day horse relay

to hargrave keep (5)

total distance: 290 miles | horseback time: 2 weeks 220 miles to fort connor (see above) 10 days on horseback + 50 miles on marshy tracks to fallow mire outskirts : dark blue 5 ½ days on foot | 3 days forced march | 2 ½ days on horseback | 1 day horse relay + 20 miles in marshland : dark red 3 days on foot | 2 days on horseback

to crestwood village (4)

total distance: 205 miles | horseback time: 1 week 40 miles on mountainous roads : light pink 4 ½ days on foot | 2 ½ days forced march | 2 days on horseback | 1 day fast carriage + 165 miles on roads : light blue 10 days on foot | 4 ½ days on horseback | 3 days fast carriage | 2 ½ days horse relay

to the storm coast (3)

total distance: 295 miles | horseback time: 8 ½ days 205 miles to crestwood village (see above) 1 week on horseback + 90 miles on roads : dark pink 4 ½ days on foot | 3 days forced march | 2 days on horseback | 1 ½ days fast carriage | 1 day horse relay

to suledin keep (6)

total distance: 195 miles | horseback time: 11 days 170 miles on mountainous roads to sahrnia : yellow 3 weeks on foot | 1 week on horseback + 25 miles on mountainous roads, steep incline : dark blue 4 days on foot | 2 ½ days on horseback

to din’an hanin (7)

total distance: 165 miles | horseback time: 2 weeks 195 miles to suledin keep (see above) 11 days on horseback + 70 miles on hilly roads : light green 5 days on foot | 3 ½ days forced march | 3 days on horseback | 2 days fast carriage | 1 day horse relay

to the dalish camp (8)

total distance: XXX miles | horseback time: XXX days 195 miles to suledin keep (see above) 11 days on horseback + 145 miles on roads : dark pink 1 week on foot | 3 ½ days on horseback | 2 ½ days fast carriage | 2 days horse relay

to halamshiral

total distance: 180 miles | horseback time: 5 ½ days 40 miles on mountainous roads : light pink 4 ½ days on foot | 2 ½ days forced march | 2 days on horseback | 1 day fast carriage + 140 miles on roads : turquoise 1 week on foot | 4 ½ days forced march | 3 ½ days on horseback | 2 days fast carriage | 2 days horse relay

to adamant fortress (9)

total distance: 585 miles | horseback time: 3 weeks 180 miles to halamshiral (see above) 5 ½ days on horseback + 375 miles on roads to western approach outskirts : orange 3 weeks on foot | 10 days on horseback | 1 week fast carriage | 4 ½ days horse relay + 30 miles on sand : light blue 5 days on foot | 3 days on horseback

to solasan (10)

total distance: 690 miles | horseback time: 1 month 585 miles to adamant fortress (see above) 3 weeks on horseback + 95 miles on sand to forbidden oasis camp (dark purple) 16 days on foot | 10 days on horseback + 10 miles on sand 1 ½ days on foot | 1 day on horseback

to rock top ridge (11)

total distance: 655 miles | horseback time: 1 month 585 miles to adamant fortress (see above) 3 weeks on horseback + 45 miles on sand to hissing wastes outskirts : dark red 1 week on foot | 4 ½ days on horseback + 25 miles on sand & rocks, steep incline : dark turquoise 4 ½ days on foot | 3 days on horseback

[exalted-dawn-drabbles]

OC KISS WEEK 2025

Day 5: Worship | Pairing: Alora Lavellan & Thalia Trevelyan (@nirikeehan)

Rated G: Slice of Life, Family, Worldbuilding

Summary: After an accident during transit, a young Thalia is picked up by a Dalish clan after being found starving and injured in the woods. Until they can travel to a place where she could be safely left amongst her kind, Clan Lavellan decided to protect her and let her live amongst their own. As they travel, the Dalish celebrate the summer solstice, and she is taught a bit about Dalish tradition in the process.

~*~*~

Thalia shifted nervously, fidgeting in her spot as the Keeper continued to weave the tale of the Dalish All-Father roping the sun. The whole thing sent a slight thrill through her. If her mother or Miss Ernestine ever learned of this, she would surely be put on the horns. But somehow, that only seemed to stir further excitement in her. 

The fine skirts that Haleira had lent her wrinkled with her squirming, and out of habit, she immediately stilled and smoothed them.

To her side, Alora giggled. 

“It should be almost over,” she whispered, cranberry eyes creased with giddiness. Her flax hair had been twisted up into a crown of braids and flowers, a perfect mirror to Thalia’s, with wisps that fell into her face as she rocked forward with glee. “And then we can eat.” 

It was true that the platters of food laid out before them were not helping styme her anticipation. It had taken her a bit of time to get used to the Dalish diet, but even by her standards, the spread in front of them would make a plenty fine meal. There were platters of hearty brown breads served with halla butter, served alongside great bowls of rabbit stew and wilted wild greens. There were hearth cakes with warm berry jams and fruit wines and pheasant over onions. 

It felt as though her stomach might turn itself inside out with how hungry she was, looking at it all. It was enough to make her stop paying attention to the end of Keeper Deshanna’s story, even when she had been desperate to pay attention.

It wasn’t until the Keeper moved in front of them both, her long, ochre robes flooding their vision, that she was snapped back to herself. The older woman, with her falcon-like face and sharp-looking tattoos shaped like bull horns, smiled down at them. In her hands were a halved grapefruit and a jar of honey. 

“Before we can begin our feast, we remind ourselves of the blessings we celebrate each summer solstice.” 

Alora took the fruit and spooned a thin lace of honey over the top of it. For a moment, she almost looked to be praying; her eyes slid shut and she bowed her head, but no prayer came from her forth from her tongue. She just grinned and, with the delicate touch of a rose petal, brushed her lips across the fruit’s surface. 

Still smiling, she passed it over to Thalia and nodded encouragingly. Deshanna followed, and offered the jar of honey. 

“The halved fruit represents the sun,” Deshanna began to explain, her voice stately. “And the honey is the bounty we enjoy as a result of its light. Without the sun, we have no flowers that feed the bees, nor forests that shelter the animals we hunt. We have no fruits and no rolling fields in which to raise our halla. The All-Father’s gifts are sweet, and without them, so too goes our way of life.” 

Thalia looked over to Alora, unsure of whether she should accept or decline. She’d only been living amongst the clan for a few months now, but this felt like more than the long, ponderous services given by the Chantry Mothers on solstice days. It almost felt too personal, and too… well, sacred to be sharing with an outsider like her. 

But the young girl beside her just grinned and shook her head, miming with her hands the motion to raise the fruit to her lips and kiss it. “If you don’t, we can’t eat,” she hissed in a whisper, and then made another gesture as though to say ‘get on with it’. 

Thalia flushed, but nodded, not wanting to be the reason the meal was held up for the whole clan and now feeling a bit silly for being worried in the first place. Alora hardly seemed to think it was anything special at all. 

She ducked her head and brought her mouth to the fruit, letting its cool surface carefully touch her lips. The first thing she tasted was sweetness. The honey was warm with the flavor of summer, wildflowers, and… butterscotch? There was also a sourness– the citrus from the fruit bit at her tongue, but it wasn’t unpleasant. It was instead tart and fresh. Forgetting herself and her lessons, Thalia smacked her lips as she savored the flavor, mindlessly passing on the grapefruit to Alora’s older brother, Nellas, who was sitting next in the row. 

Alora was beaming, her own mouth still a little shiny with the golden sweet. “Good, isn’t it?”

She nodded, giggling like she’d just gotten away with sneaking a pastry from the kitchen. “Very good! I’ve had grapefruit before, but normally it’s so sour. This one wasn’t at all like that!” 

“That’s because you’re from Ostwick.” Alora scrunched her nose, as if the very idea of her home city-state smelled like the stinkiest wheel of Anders sack cheese. “It’s too cold to grow them well there. You need to get them fresh from Antiva.”

“We didn’t grow them,” she huffed. “They would come in by boat. We had workers that would travel to the markets of Antiva and buy a whole shipload of food, and then sail back with it for us to eat.”

“Well then I don’t think your workers knew how to buy good food,” Alora said with a shrug. “Either that, or they must not have liked you very much.” 

Thalia opened her mouth to respond, and then closed it again, reconsidering. 

“Aloranna.” Haleira leaned forward to look at them both, her brow raised in the perfect picture of motherly scolding. 

Immediately, the smile fell from Alora’s face. “Ir abelas,” she squeaked, turning forward again. Her cheeks were quickly becoming the color of her mother’s blush palette. 

Unbidden, a delighted snicker slipped past her teeth, and she quickly moved to stifle the noise behind her hand. 

Well, she supposed some things must be the same no matter where you went. Thalia could still clearly remember the shape of her own mother’s scowl, her composed-but-clearly-disapproving expression, every time she or her siblings would act out at the dinner table or say something untoward. It felt good to be reminded that maybe things weren’t so different between her and the family she had been taken into. It could be an easy thing to forget. There had once been a time where dinners were simply meant to be suffered through, but just like the grapefruit, she was quickly discovering that they could be sweeter than she thought they’d be.

The Lavellans were teaching her that meals could be laced with sugar and filled with honey smiles, and in spite of all she was taught and all she knew to be right, Thalia wanted to be a part of it.

When Keeper Deshanna announced with gusto that it was time to eat, Thalia spoke her thanks just as readily as everyone else, and with a bright grin, dug in.

[exalted-dawn-drabbles]

OC KISS WEEK 2025

Day 4: Reunion | Pairing: Shaesa Tabris & Kallian Tabris (@breninarthur)

Rated G: Unrequited Feelings, Fluff, Hurt Comfort (kinda), Family

Summary: It's been years since the end of the Fifth Blight. Years since Shaesa had seen her family from the Alienage. Years since she had turned tail and run from her feelings, like a coward. But no matter how much it hurt, she refused to run from this: her beloved cousin's wedding. Also the wedding of her best friend and the man she loved. It hurt, but somethings were worth the pain. Kallian's smile above all else.

~*~*~

“Are you quite sure that you’re ready for this?” 

Zevran’s question filled their tiny, shared room like well water to the bucket, and Shaesa felt it weigh down on her as she finished shrugging into the finest dress she currently owned. 

“I already told you–” She pulled her head through the neck of her gown, quickly shaking out her hair so that it laid flat against her back once more. “I’m not about to miss out on my baby cousin’s wedding. I’ll be fine.” 

From the other side of the changing screen, she heard him scoff. “That isn’t what I asked, Brava. Half of Thedas knows that you could take a bite from an Archdemon and still be ‘fine’. But you and I both know that is not the same thing as being ready.” 

“I don’t really see how it makes a difference,” she said, stepping out to find him already dressed. “Either way, I’m still going. It’s the first time I’ve seen her in years, Zev. We grew up together. It’s not like I’m going to stay away because of something as little as sore feelings.” 

She could tell by his expression that he wasn’t extremely satisfied with her answer, but luckily, he didn’t have to be. For today, he was her date, which meant all he had to do was sit with her and look pretty. And considering it was Zev, she knew he could at least do one of those things half decently. 

Shaesa gave them both one final once-over. 

Zevran looked perfectly at ease in his Antivan silks, all dark midnight hues and low cut necklines. She had thought it would be strange to not see him in his leathers, but honestly it somehow made more sense, looking at him like this. By comparison, she already knew that the sight of her in a dress was far from comfortable-looking. Still, the dress Zevran had gotten her had been better than the one from her first wedding. That one had been poofy-sleeved and eggshell white. She at least felt that the cerulean gown Zevran had gotten for her suited her better– Rivani in style, with sleeker lines, a haltered neck, and no sleeves, forgone in preference to jewelry. The metal had been a comfort and a familiarity Shaesa hadn’t expected, but she appreciated it now. 

It was almost time. 

With a deep breath in, she put on her brightest smile and looped her arm around Zevran’s. “Shall we?” 

For a moment, it looked like he might argue with her, but with a wry sort of sigh, he just shook his head and straightened, a half-cast grin on his lips now in place of his earlier skepticism. “It would be a crime otherwise to keep you hidden. You look lovely.” 

Shaesa snorted and led them both towards the door. “So long as I don’t outshine the bride.” 

As if she ever could. 

Resplendent sunlight poured over them both the moment they stepped outside into the Alienage center square. Everything was awash with color and movement. Brilliantly dyed ribbons danced from the Venadahl tree, while lanterns and flags swung on strings that hung from every rooftop. This was nothing like her own wedding had been, just before she’d taken the Blue. People actually seemed happy to be here, dancing and cheering, like this was truly something worth celebrating. 

And Maker, but it was. Anyone just had to take one look at the bride to see that. 

Kallian looked absolutely radiant. She stood on the ceremony stage in the corner of the Alienage, above the crowd looking so content. Confident and sure, with her head high and a peaceful smile gracing her lips as she talked to Elder Valendrian. 

The sight of it immediately put some of Shaesa’s misgivings at ease, and she was reminded again exactly why she had kept quiet all those years ago. It was for that smile that Shaesa had fought through war and Blight and conquered both. That exact expression was worth everything, even her own feelings. 

Because unlike Shaesa’s, Kallian’s smile was always a true, genuine thing. Precious and rare. And it was one she would do anything to protect. 

Zevran put a hand on her shoulder and Shaesa remembered herself. Together, they began to push their way towards the front of the crowd. 

As they neared the stage, she spotted Leliana in her Chantry robes, as well as Wynne and Oghren talking closer to the vhenadahl. She didn’t see Morrigan, which was hardly a surprise, but it seemed Sten wasn’t able to make it either. He would have stood out pretty easily, all things considered. Still, it was more of the old crew than she’d been expecting. The only other one missing was- 

“Well isn’t somebody a sight for sore eyes. And here, I thought you’d been avoiding me.” 

Shaesa set her shoulders and her smile. “Could you blame me? I was able to smell your socks from the north gate,” she scoffed, turning to see Alistair. “Someone really ought to teach you how to do your own laundry, else your stench might kill my baby cousin dead.” She jabbed him in the chest hard, but he just grinned that big, goofy smile of his and scooped her up into a hug. 

“Ah but it is good to finally have someone of wit here at this party,” he chuckled, releasing her. “With the swamp witch missing, I feared that there would be no one here to properly insult me on my wedding day.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, well Maker forbid– we can’t have that, can we?” 

“Certainly not,” Zevran said, stepping up to pat Alistair on the arm. “But it would seem you are in luck, my friend. Shaesa and I will be happy to fill Morrigan’s shoes in her absence.” 

The two hugged briefly, trading light-hearted greetings, but Zevran was quick to pull away. With a grace that Shaesa would be hard-pressed to ever muster, he slid his arm around hers and tucked it smoothly her hand into his elbow, making her instinctively step closer into his side. It was so seamless that even Shaesa wouldn’t have found it out of place, at first, but she knew Zevran too well now. The dagger-sharpness of his smile. The steel edge in his eyes. Like a blade wrapped in sunlight.

She nearly scoffed at him. Sometimes, Zevran could meddle worse than her father. 

Alistair’s eyes flicked between the two of them curiously, and she could see the question building on his tongue, but before he could ask and she could quickly dismiss it, strong, roughened hands were thrown around her midsection, pulling her back and tugging her straight out of Zevran’s arm and into Kallian’s. 

She beamed. “Cousin!” 

“If it isn’t the bride,” Shaesa chuckled, spinning around to wrap Kallian all up into a big embrace. She squeezed tight, pressing small kisses all over Kallian’s cheeks and head, as she used to when they were young. “Look at you! Where’s that girl I knew, always covered in mud and scabs?”

And it was true– Kallian looked vastly different. Her pale, mousy brown hair– normally tied in three tails– was instead braided back out of her face into a tight, elegant bun. Wisps of hair fell free from it, but it looked neither disheveled nor unsightly, but rather purposeful. Leliana must have done her cousin’s hair; she looked almost like a noble lady. A crown of wildblossoms sat upon her head, all joyful with their pinks and reds, whites and yellows, and matched well with her wine-colored gown. She looked lovely and grown. 

“I should be saying the same,” she jabbed, almost playfully, and her eyes flicked over Shaesa. “I didn’t expect that they’d also wrangle you into one of these.” 

Shaesa shrugged. “Figured it’d make for an amusing wedding gift.” 

A cat-tail smile flickered on Kallian’s face. “Well at least neither of us have to suffer alone now.” 

Shaesa could only smile back. Yes, this was right– how things should be. A weighty warmth pushed against the insides of her chest, filling her with a sense of purpose and completion. Taking her cousin’s face in both her hands, Shaesa stooped and pressed a single, absolutely adoring kiss to her forehead. “Congratulations, Kallian. I’m so happy for you.” 

Her cousin giggled, and the sound filled her further. 

“Come on,” she said, pulling back to take Shaesa’s hand. Still, Kallian was smiling. She could not seem to wipe the expression from her face. “Father and Uncle have been waiting for you to join us before we can start. They were pretty convinced that you weren’t going to make it on time.” 

“Me?” she asked, letting her cousin drag her away. Away from Zevran and his weary grin and away from Alistair in all his flush and finery. Gladly, she let herself be taken, and put both of them far behind her. Neither of them were the reason she was here, and right now, they didn’t much matter to her. Only her cousin. Only this. “Never.”

Like children, they ran, memories baked into every step. The feeling of Kallian’s hand in hers, dragging each other between colorful market stands, held tight and surely. Laughter in their lungs, mud between their toes. Neither wore fine slippers then, but that did not stop them from splashing through the puddles all the same. It did not kill their grins.

Rather, Shaesa grinned all the wider. 

As if she would miss this. 

Shaesa wouldn’t miss this for the world.

[exalted-dawn-drabbles]

OC KISS WEEK 2025

Day 3: Stolen | Pairing: Talenna Ethera/Rhiannon Trevelyan (@hekaerges)

Rated T: Sexual innuendo, Political Intrigue

Summary: Rhiannon and Talenna, both agents of the Inquisition, are sent on a mission to the Marches to infiltrate a gathering and acquire crucial information concerning the Venatori. But when their heist doesn’t go exactly to plan, they fall back on a tried and true method to get them out of a tight spot.

~*~*~

The click of the door handle made them both freeze faster than even the Frostback’s most vicious storm.

With her bangled hand shoved elbow-deep down Lord Turnbull’s office desk drawer, it was not the most innocent picture she painted. Both Talenna and Rhiannon watched the door for the daggerfall drop of the knob, the death knell of the deadbolt giving way. The room itself seemed to hold its breath to see if the door would swing open.

Instead, it jammed, and the soft cussing of whatever drunken lord was waiting on the other side brought wind back into their lungs.

Neither could have moved faster.

Talenna grabbed a random group of documents and slid the drawer shut, bolting it again with the key she had stolen off the Lord’s son while he danced. She shoved the documents deep down her gown, and before she could even fully turn around, Rhiannon’s body was shoved up against her own. The woman’s red-lined lips curled into a grin.

“Better make it convincing.”

And then she bent, tipping back Talenna’s head to steal a wine-flavored kiss from her lips.

This had, of course, been their backup plan, should they have actually needed one. They’d attended this soiree as ‘Lady Rhiannon Trevelyan and her newest paramore’, and Rhiannon’s reputation for bedding women where she shouldn’t was apparently spread wide enough to touch nearly all reaches of Thedas. It had seemed the obvious choice at the time.

That still did not stop Talenna’s mild shock at how eagerly Rhiannon parted her lips for Talenna’s tasting, nor her mild delight at their warmth and willingness.

Almost too easily, they sunk into one another, a tangle interwoven folds of fabric and grasping hands. Rhiannon’s touch dragged up her sides, wrinkling the previously-untarnished lengths of Talenna’s gown until they were properly tarnished. She grabbed and groped, making fast work of turning her disheveled, equal parts eager and efficient.

Begrudging as she was to admit it, it was not hard to feign her own part. Her body reacted readily to the warriors’s touch, curves sealed to muscled edges, and hips pressed to hips. Rhiannon’s thick red hair bunched easily in Talenna’s hands, the perfect rein to reel her in. To make her heel as Talenna kissed her harder. Pressed in closer.

The door trembled and then clicked open, revealing to Lord Ohdran Sharpe– Turnbull’s Warehouse Manager– a seamless scene of debauchery.

Rhiannon gave one last, languorous suck to Talenna’s tongue before releasing it with a pop, her eyes sliding open to meet the lord’s gaze with a devious grin. “Serah Sharpe,” she greeted, adding a thick layer of huskiness to her voice. It was a performance that would make most actors weep. “I would invite you to join, but I don’t dance with your type. Anything I can help you with?”

Rhiannon’s hand slid down to Talenna’s thigh, her fingers tracing lightly along its inside edge. Reflexively, a shiver rippled through her, making her whole body tremble.

A movement that was not missed by their company.

Sharpe cleared his throat. “This room is meant to be off limits to guests. What are you both doing in here?”

Rhiannon made a flat sort of face, her eyes dipping down to skirt over Talenna’s body before flicking back up to Sharpe. “Thought that was pretty obvious. And since when has ‘off-limits’ ever stopped me?”

His face pinched in like a sun-dried grape. “Get out.”

Rhiannon blew out a long-winded, truly exasperated sigh. “And here I thought this was meant to be a party.” She took Talenna’s hand and smiled down at her, too sweetly to be anything of the kind. “Come, we can take our fun elsewhere. I’m not yet done tasting you.”

Talenna kept herself from rolling her eyes. The fact that she could lay it on this thickly and no one would flag it as suspicious was a spectacular testament to Rhiannon’s character.

She hooked two fingers into the neckline of Rhiannon’s dress and tugged her closer. “So long as it isn’t in the bushes. The last time we tried that, I was pulling burrs from my hair for days.” She pushed onto her toes and brushed a peck across the woman’s lips. Beneath the feather-light kiss, she could feel Rhiannon smile.

“As you wish, love,” she whispered in a kitten-soft purr.

She tucked Talenna’s hand into the crook of her arm, and together they began to head for the door. It wasn’t until they were shoulder to shoulder with the Lord that Talenna tugged slightly on Rhiannon’s arm, bringing the taller woman to a halt.

She turned to face the muskrat-looking man, his mustache so bristled he looked ready for spitting.

“Apologies for the trouble, Messere,” Talenna said, stepping close to touch a thankful, and hopefully soothing, hand to the man’s puffed-up breast. “We will take care to be more…discreet, next time.”

It sounded as though the man grumbled something in response, but Talenna didn’t put too much effort into parsing out the words as she let Rhiannon once again sweep her away. They escaped into the hallway, letting the door behind them fall closed with a firm clap.

For a while, they walked in silence, their footsteps muffled by the plush, velveteen rugs underfoot. It wasn’t until they turned the corner that Rhiannon spoke up.

“You do know that they’ll be able to figure out pretty quickly that it was us who stole the documents once someone realizes they’re missing,” she began, speaking lowly in a lover’s tone. “And not to brag, but my name is pretty well known. It will not be hard to track us back to the Inquisition.”

“They would be able to,” Talenna agreed. “If I had only taken what the Inquisition might actually have interest in. I took more than the evidence we were looking for.” Talenna drew the folded packet of parchment she had taken from her sleeve. From top to bottom, columns tangled with scrolling ink and endless numbers covered the pages.

The Lord Turnbull’s ledgers, Talenna guessed.

“I might have also planted the key to the drawer in Lord Sharpe’s pocket just now,” she continued. “I assume you know which carriage is his? We could hide the papers among his things on our way out– I’ll only need a moment to confirm the information we need from his correspondences with the Venatori.”

Rhiannon gave her an appreciative look. “And when Lord Sharpe inevitably points to us as the true culprits?”

“Then Lord Turnbull will ask the obvious question anyone would– who has more to gain from the theft. A notorious libertine known for her trysts and being utterly uninterested in politics, or the manager of his business operations?” she posited. Talenna’s eyes flashed knowingly as she looked up to Rhiannon. “Have you ever known a man to be satisfied with how they are being treated by his boss?”

A wide, scarlet smile spread along Rhiannon’s lips. “You know, I might actually be falling in love with you. I’ll need to be careful.”

Talenna snorted. “Focus on the job first. We still need to hide the papers and somehow find a way to draw attention to the ledger’s absence before Sharpe figures out what is happening. Any ideas of further fun will have to wait until then.”

Rhiannon sighed theatrically. “If you insist.” However, Talenna did not miss the way the woman’s eyes slid down to her. To her lips.

For all the acting Rhiannon was capable of, this time, the intent behind her mischievous grin was entirely transparent. The woman hummed, eyes sparkling. Expectant. As though she hadn't just been eyeing Talenna like a fox did her food, Rhiannon turned her gaze ahead.

“Luckily for the both of us, I can be more than patient.”