#<- Apostate Dad

[vigilskept]

day 1: upbringing

a day late but here's a little diya surana backstory fic for 14 days of circle mages!! some speculative dalish/seheronese ancestor veneration practices + an immigrant father & his kid Doing Their Best :)

words: 840 | @14dayscirclemages

A month and ten days before her name-day, Father asks her to clean out the house before he leaves for work.

She starts in the morning with the tidying. Around noon, Shianni and Soris and Isaac and Teodor come to the window, tapping until she swings it open. They all frown when she says she won't come, but there's still the dusting and the sweeping and the cobwebs with spiders that need to be moved outside.

It takes her until just before Father gets home to finish with all of it, and it's almost good enough. It only takes another hour before Father is satisfied that every speck of dust has been defeated.

She's still too little to stand so close to the cooking fire, he says, so she sits quietly and patiently, mouth watering as sweet and savoury aromas begin to spread through the room.

She knows she won't be allowed to taste, so she does not ask.

This year, he trusts her with the task of setting out the dishes once the meal is prepared, and it's easy enough to set out the plates and bowls for the two of them at their usual seats at the table. She has to go onto her tippy toes to get the third set up onto the high shelf above the fireplace, though, and only just manages to get her balance back on her own after a little wobble.

Father gives her a rare, pleased smile when he sees that she's spilled nothing, and thanks her with a gentle hand placed atop her head.

This will make the her hair messy again, but it's nice. She smiles — because Alarith says she should smile when nice things happen.

He turns then to the box he keeps on the high shelf, and pulls out three of the fragrant wooden sticks he'd traded their last candleholder for last month.

She watches, wide eyed as he tips them into his other palm and cradles them in a bed of flame. Nudged by the fire, smoke begins to rise and trails through the air as her father carries them over to the brass jar that sits between the bowls of food.

Then, kneeling, he begins to speak in the language he always says he will teach her someday, but not yet.

It doesn't take long before the smoke from wraps around the whole of their home and each of her breaths feel heavy, as though she were swallowing water instead. The misty air stings at her eyes like tiny pins pricking at them.

Father, though, always seems more at home shrouded by this pale mist than anywhere else. Through the fog, she can just barely see that his eyes are dry as he speaks at length with his palms resting atop his knees.

She thinks it must be some blessing for the dead, a prayer for her mother’s soul, though the Chantry sisters who come to the alienage teach them some mornings say that after the dead are burned their spirits shouldn’t be bothered. 

She has never asked them if it's fine to bother those that are buried instead.

The sisters say the Maker is gone, and has not yet forgiven them. She does not want to hear that they might be making Him even more cross.

She keeps her lips sealed now as she does on those mornings and kneels quietly at Father's side.

She blinks away the moisture that gathers between her lashes and hopes that whoever Father prays to is kinder than the Maker. She hopes that they are not so far away and might answer whatever pleas he voices in that whisper that sounds so much like a song carried in the wind.

When he finally rises from his knees, he stumbles a little.

It hurts, a bit, when he catches himself against her shoulder and clutches tight. Still, she doesn't make a sound.

Father's legs have been more unsteady of late, threatening to buckle beneath him when they've been overly strained. It takes longer and longer each time, but he always rises back onto his feet, as he does this time.

She waits, quiet, until he can hold himself steady once more and drag his weary limbs to the table.

Once the ache fades a little, and she knows the pain won't give her away, she allows herself to rise and claims the chair opposite.

Father doesn't smile, but there's a softness to his eyes as he tells her, "Next year, I will teach you the rite, so you can perform it yourself."

She beams, and promises she will work hard to get it perfect.

If she works hard enough, maybe Father will finally teach her about where they're from and why they came to Ferelden too.

Hahren Valendrian says that their burdens are eased when they share their stories. Maybe if he tells her the story, it will ease the furrow that sits between Father's brows, the ache in his bones.

[theshoesofatiredman]

Just saw people clutching their pearls in a comment section over a crowd clapping during the eclipse, because it meant they were "worshipping demons" and "didn't know what was going to happen after." When nothing happens, will their faith be shaken? Will they question the faith leaders that assured you they knew the future? Will they question their ability to interpret scripture? In my experience, the answers are no for most people.

I grew up around conspiracy theorist Christians. My dad was a 9/11 truther. Bigfoot was real and he was a demon. The government was hiding aliens from us. And blood moons and eclipses were signs of coming judgment and destruction. There was a blood moon several years ago where he stocked up, started doing some doomsday prepping for the family. He told us all what he thought was coming. The night it happened, I lay awake in bed, my father's fear washing over me in waves, waiting for my phone to die, because my dad believed an EMP was going to knock out the power grid in the United States and all our electronics. There was a moment when my phone went dark for a second unexpectedly, and I was frozen in my fear over what the future held. Thankfully the moment didn't last long, since my touch lit my phone screen, and that's one of a handful of moments when I realized just how deep my father's fears and conspiratorial thinking had sunk into my brain, even when only given attention in passing.

When I got my first shot of the covid vaccine, even though I wanted the shot, believed in it as our best tool for fighting the virus, even though I spent hours researching and debunking my parents' vaccine conspiracies, as the needle was going into my arm, I still had their fear in the back of my mind. What if this hurts me? What if this kills me? What if I'm wrong and they're really right? I would've told anyone at the time that my parents had fallen down a rabbit hole filled with bullshit. To them the vaccine was a bio attack from China or a way for the government to track us or more deadly than the virus or causing heart attacks in men or actually spreading the virus or entirely ineffective (on and on it went). And yet even though I KNEW there was no truth to prop up their claims, I still was afraid when I went to get the shot.

All this to say it's important to combat conspiratorial thinking when you run into it. Yes, the Christians really just look like fools when they say the eclipse is demon worship, but there are people who are living with tremendous and unnecessary fear because of these conspiracies. And depending on what it is, it may prevent them from taking actions that could save their lives and the lives of others. And know that the fear can wheedle its way into your brain even if you think they're wrong, even if you work really really hard to demonstrate that there's nothing to be afraid of.

[moonlitdesertdreams]

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗Star Wars Masterlist ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

✮✮✮One Shots✮✮✮

Too Sweet (You've been a safe place for Din Djarin for years. He comes to you at his most vulnerable, but always has to leave before you're ready)

✮✮✮Multi-Chapter✮✮✮

Judgement Call (Din Djarin x Fm!OC)

✮Original on Ao3 here ✮Currently uploading a revamped version, with new chapters below✮

Part I: Pagodon Part II: Reward Part III: Travel Part IV: The Compound Part V: Trapped Part VI: The Egg Part VII: Nevarro Part VIII: The Raid

[crows-of-buckets]

I cannot get the idea of a da2 au where Malcolm is the surviving parent instead of Leandra. Would both of the twins have made it out? I think they would. Because like. Malcolm, unlike Leandra, can actually fight. I don't think either of the twins would have felt the need to protect him. Would the deep roads expedition even have to happen? I assume they would probably be worse off in this au since I don't think Gamlen would lend his aid. Obviously ignoring the very valid reasons why Malcolm would NEVER take his children to Kirkwall, or anywhere near it, how different would it be? Idk why it's plaguing my head rn but LORD

[chernychnyi]

i usually like my dragon age love interests to contrast my characters somehow and yet the desire to romance emmrich as a fellow academic... would it be weird if he peer reviewed my papers before. would it be unprofessional

[tith]

PS if anyone wants to chat about Amell family theories I am so down for that, i’m just rotating them (the whole Amell family) in my mind this week

[swordmaid]

think I want to sacrifice wyll’s dad in shri’iia’s canon…. just bc i let shadowheart kill her own parents so she is free from shar, astarion is kept as a spawn, gale returns the crown, lae’zel goes through her own crisis of faith and karlach has to go back to avernus to survive like everyone here is giving up something important to them to reach an ending where they could be content u don’t get to keep ur dad lol

[shadowsole]

A, these hoes be loyal

B, compared to the later games I could never just settle on a definitive "my warden" so I decided to make it a Morrigan romance for 1, plot relevance, and b, trifecta of tragic apostate romances

I know some people have multiple worldstates or multiple wardens, so there is room for interpretation as to what counts as the canon LI, so just go with your gut

[riddleturner]

he's an apostate. he's a grey warden. he's on the run from the law. he's bonded body mind and soul to a spirit of the fade. he practices one of the rarest and most taxing magical diciplines known to mages. he's a cat dad. he was put in solitary confinement for a full year. he saves lives daily and asks for no payment. he's a massive bitch. he's personal friends with the hero of ferelden. he hates the church. he's hopelessly in love with you. he writes and distributes his own manifesto. he was forced to kill his own ex boyfriend. he doesn't see a way out. he's fucking blonde.

[wellvak]

Calex Dragon Age AU

I wanted to make this a fic but I’m not sure anybody would read it, so I’m just going to write out the concepts to get it out of my system.

Also thanks to @cns-mari for telling me to post this. May you play this masterpiece of a franchise one day.

Quick Dragon Age lore explanation: Basically in this game’s universe (the entire known world is called Thedas), magic users are capable of blood magic, which is forbidden because it involves sacrificing your/others’ blood to summon a demon (demons belong in the Fade– a metaphysical realm) so all mages are controlled by Templars (magic police) who is part of the Chantry (basically Catholic Church) and the legal mages all live in The Circle (mages’ school, prison for some mages, especially in Fereldan).

Casey (a Fereldan, and devoted Andrastrian– that’s the name of the religion who worships The Maker (God) and Andraste (God’d prophet)) would follow in her dad’s footsteps to be a templar, but she starts to show signs of being capable of magic– particularly fire magic– but her parents do their best to hide this fact so she could remain being a templar. Presently her rank is recruit.

Quoting from The Chant of Light (The Bible): “Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him.” Once Casey figures out her power, she will repeat this passage over and over again in her head, out of guilt and struggle to resist the demons’ temptation. And also this passage: “As there is but one world, one life, one death. There is but one god, and He is our maker.”

Alex is a Senior Enchanter circle mage, her specialty is Ice magic. Like Vivienne in the game, she strongly believes in putting all mages in the circle. But that changes after she meets Casey (idk when or where yet), who thinks being a mage is a curse for her, and deeply represses her powers. Alex’s whole belief starts to change as she sees what’s being done to mages in other circles while Casey continues to torture herself by suppressing her powers.

This all happens before the events of Kirkwall (basically, an apostate (that is a non-circle mage, in other words an illegal mage) blows up The Chantry in Kirkwall. This results in the Templars’ leader at that time, Meredith, declares the Right of Annulment, that means to kill every mage in the city) so their relationship would also be affected by the rising tension between mages and templars, until the rebellion reaches Ferelden.

The bombing of the Chantry results in other Circles from all over Thedas split between Rebels (Those who escape the Circle) and Loyalists (those who stay). Once it does reach Ferelden, where Casey lives, there are children mages who are caught in the crossfire, and out of desperation, Casey has to use her power to protect them. Because of this, she’s become one of the most dangerous mages to live and becomes hunted by the Circle; because not only her power is immense, but with the Templars’ power, she can repel magic. (In Dragon Age canon, Templars simply cannot be mages.)

But they find out Casey’s power lies in Fire magic, and that Ice is her weakness, so Alex is assigned to hunt down her own lover.

In the end, Casey begs and begs to be made Tranquil– that means, cutting off her connection to the Fade, and she can’t perform magic anymore. She says “Please, Alex. The temptation is too great”. But if someone is made Tranquil, all emotions are removed, that of course includes love. Alex is against it at first, but out of pity, she finally does it. Right before the ritual happens, Casey quotes this again:

“As there is but one world,

One life, one death, there is

But one god, and she is my lover.”

[poetic-mac-n-cheese]

I am always thinking about how Cam didn’t say goodbye to her dads before becoming Paul. It’s always made me a little sad because it’s her last chance! She’s gone through and done so much to save them and then she doesn’t even see them before she dies/changes forever!! Why?? I know she said they wouldn’t understand but why not hug them one last time, give them the chance to grieve?

And then I think about “lucky them” and “I’m so relieved” and how Camilla really doesn’t seem to see this as a tragedy at all. She sees it as a necessary and wonderful transformation. She’s becoming more, not less. She’s changing, yes, but she’s changing into what she believes is more true to her identity than who she was before.

And then I think about the last few years of my life. I’ve gone through a massive faith crisis and transformation in the last 3 years. I’ve left behind the religion and by extension the culture that I loved and was raised in and changed so completely that I am for all intents and purposes a new person. I went from being a full time missionary to an apostate in less than half a decade. It breaks my parents heart. They definitely miss the old me. They almost definitely wish they could say goodbye, talk to the old me one last time. But they also could never really do that because by the time it would be the last time I would already have changed so completely that it wouldn’t really be the old me at all. (Something something change is the nature of existence something something we can’t go home again)

And I don’t think it’s a tragedy. I’ve grieved who I thought I would be, yes, but I don’t want to go back. I can’t go back. And I don’t want my parents to view me as a before and after, I want them to see me as a whole person, a person who is me no matter how much I change. If I was given the chance to say goodbye before I started changing, would I do it? Would it even mean anything? And yes my faith transformation has been a much less immediate and dramatic before and after than bursting into flames and merging completely with my bestie/soulmate, but I think the point still stands. I’m still here in the ways that matter to me so why would I say goodbye?

[12-cluh]

"Pathetic! I wouldn't even keep you as a slave in my coalition!"

"After two years in a foundation prison, I could use a warm-up."

"I've killed you before, and I'll kill you again!"

"Ohoho, poor Champagne... you really thought you could hide from me? You're making me feel bad, man!"

"Not all of us killed Dad! I liked it here..."

"Hey, these two giving you trouble?"

"Fuck off! I got this."

"Swearing doesn't make you cool."

"Ohhhh, someone misses their daddy! Wahhhhh!" "We're all the same person! I'm sure I'm not the only one!" "… I miss Jax."

Whiteout Clayton A germaphobe extremist who murdered all life on his Earth through engineering a demonic pathogen

Apostate Clayton Having murdered Capri in cold blood, he tore the angel’s grace from his body and wears his wings like a trophy. Now he uses angelic light not to save but to sear the impure from existence.

Rotten Clayton Abducted by Misomucus as a boy, his skin is oily and black with dozens of eyes. He now assists his master in the development of all his demons

Clayton the Martyr Scarred and silent, this Clayton is a religious zealot who kills any being he senses has sin within them.

Purity Clayton Hates demons with every atom of his being. He killed his Mara after her very first transformation

Vermin King Clayton Killed Misomucus and took his place as the lord of disease and illness

Void Clayton After his death, he was brought back by the experiments of a high god.

SCP-6565 A demonic version of himself who had once been contained by the SCP Foundation, now an escapee. Split personality with his demon half.

Betrayer Clayton Murdered Benny Sharp out of annoyance. Wears pieces of his mech armor.

Nightmare Clayton Instead of Mara getting the Nightmare Hunter curse, it was Clayton. Because of his immense rage and arrogance, he turned into a murderous demon

Hunter Clayton Without any angelic blessing, Clayton relies on nothing but firearms, explosives, and grit to avenge his team, who were murdered

Claymore Clayton A Clayton who rules the coalition with an iron fist, killing all who oppose his regime

Clayton the Severed Captured by angelic forces and lobotomized—yet somehow escaped. Now, a hollow husk powered only by instinct and rage

Rejected Clayton After being expelled from the coalition, Clayton travels the world with his loyalists, who have transformed him into a god

Rusted Clayton Instead of getting the sword from Capri to kill demons, he got it from Misomucus to kill angels. He can decay anything it touches.

Demon King Clayton Murdered Arava when she tried to corrupt Mara. Wound up being enveloped in her darkness and killed Mara himself.

Deceiver Clayton A man who acts truly king on the outside, while on the inside he is a despicable psychopath, along with his loving wife Mara.

Rebel Clayton In a world where peace was achieved between humans and demons, Clayton rose to destroy it. He believes peace makes warriors soft.

[jumezart]

OC Tag Game!

tagged by @growing-magic HIII BESTIE HIII!!!!! :DDD THANK YOU FOR TAGGING MEEEE!!!

General

Name: Vivil Laidir

Alias: Rook, Lilviv

Gender: Nonbinary/ genderqueer / twink (they/them)

Age: 27

Place of Birth: southeastern Ferelden (to the Sabrae clan)

Spken Languages: Trade, Elven, Rivaini

Sexual Orientation: Pan/Bi

Occupation: TREASUREHUNTERRRRR (and underrated babysitter)

Favorites

Colour: Purple

Entertainment: Swimming 😊, styling clothes, serving cunt

Food: kiwis (they’re allergic)

Drink: seawater (inedible)

Books: reads any tale that mentions the sea.

Have They...

Passed University: barely. They would’ve been an apostate if it didn’t mean disappointing their mom.

Had Sex: absolutely

Gotten Tattoos: Plenty. They got their facetat alongside Elthea @growing-magic when they reached some Lord of Fortune milestone. (they're also friends with Mire! @growing-magic)

Gotten Scars: less of them but yes.

Been In Love: *pleading emoji*

Are They...

A Cuddler: Only cuddles when sad (except for Assan and Stormageddon).

Scared Easily: Nope, they’re too hungry for treasure or too busy coming up with quips to notice the existential horror of it all.

As a child they were scared of storms and decided to use their magic to “tame” it, hence they now prefer to do their killing with lightning bolts. They also used to be afraid of Stormageddon (Barkspawn) but learned to love him as they got older.

Jealous Easily: could be, depending on circumstances.

Trustworthy: Vivil will kill and die for you. But will tattle also. But only when its funny.

Family

Siblings: Three younger step siblings they had to babysit sometimes when their parents were busy being Lords. They’re in order 13, 11, and 8. Vivil still loves them lots 😊 Vivil also has a “twin” named Elthea.

Parents: Their mom split from their dad in grief during the fifth blight and left him with the clan as the mom and 4-year-old Vivil fled from Ferelden. After both having been kidnapped into slavery for a few years (Vivil calls this their “gap year”) they both escaped and found refuge in Rivain. Vivils mom then met Isabella and Hawke, who became their new step parents. Tldr: Vivil has three moms.

Also Ebia Mahariel, the hero of Ferelden, is Vivils aunt. They don’t get to see each other often but when they do its clear who Vivil inherited their sunny disposition from.

next i'm taggign my friend @growing-magic :3

[lynx-1512]

When I started my first playthrough as a Cousland I noticed how contradictory Alistair was, he liked Duncan so much and thought of him as a father figure yet when your Cousland is approached by Duncan you see how her dad defends her and is against the idea because he knows it's a cruel life to lead. And later how Duncan blackmails her dying parents that if Cousland should be alive she has to accept being recruited into the Wardens.

Alistair used to talk not so fondly about his time before the Wardens and blamed it on Eamon but if you listen closely to his backstory and meet the man, he sees Alistair as his own son and was always protective of him- when he failed he sent him to the Chantry as it's the only other safe place for orphans to have a normal life with good values and he believed becoming a templar was a stable and respectable job for Alistair.

But right before Alistair could take his oath Duncan conscripts him. Duncan uses Alistair and all Alistair did was look up to him as a hero who saved him.

You come from a place where none of your fellow recruits survive and one of them is killed by Duncan himself, you'd think an idealist like Alistair might have two cents to give but he shortly leaves you after the joining to deal with it yourself.

Right when you're at camp and ask Alistair about what situation you're in he brings up how you're going to die within ten to thirty years for the first time- which comes as a shock and a little heartbreaking but when you confess how you're disheartened Alistair is disappointed how you're not in terms with him idealising becoming Wardens.

He continues to show his radical values against people like Zevran who kills for a living and an apostate Morrigan, which is contradictory to the company he kept when he was with Duncan and his wardens which shows how he never questioned Duncan even though his faith was more in line to what he learnt growing up in the Chantry.

And at the end when you finally choose conscripting Loghain as an appropriate punishment for a law offender and a slaver to repent and turn a new leaf- which Duncan always did, e.g. Daveth or other people he had in team, it finally contradicts his idealogy that he puts wardens in a pedestral and he crashes out and throws a tantrum and leaves the team and as a warden altogether. You realize being a warden wasn't exactly what he seeked for either, but it was people's validation.

[djarins-cyare]

WIP Folder Ask Game!

Rules: Make a post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how nondescriptive or ridiculous, and tag as many people as you have WIPs. People send an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then you post a snippet or tell them something about it!

Thank you, @ace-turned-confused and @the-blind-assassin-12, for tagging me in this! 🩵🩷

You wanna see ALL the files in my WIP folder? Well, once I’ve developed something to a certain degree, I add it to the WIP section of my masterlist, but I’ve talked about all of those before.

The ones where I just have an outline and a few paragraphs, there are… *counts*… 61 of those! I know, I know... I need to actually write some of this shit. But… they’re busy growing. They’re like root vegetables, carefully planted and put in a dark place until they sprout. And this game seems like a good way to inspire me to cultivate some of them (once I’ve finished writing Hush, which has reached over 70k words, but I’m on the final scene, so it’ll be with you soon)!

So okay, in the same order as I came up with them, here are the most promising 30 of my little sproutling WIPs. All are Din because he occupies my brain 99% of the time.

Refugees from TV Land [*answered here*]

Mile High Club buddy accidental quest

Catch a bounty, win a question

Captain’s (sexy) log [*answered here*]

What became of Kuiil’s compound

The Worst Mandalorian Foundling Ever

Forced hibernation

Din the Apostate

Obligatory sex pollen fic

5 Accidental Innuendoes + 1 Oblivious Bounty Hunter [*answered here*]

Courier Reader slow burn

Not psychic, just an Earthling in the SWU

Post-helmet-removal Fresher’s Flu

Alien cosplay

Evil Clone Din shitshow [*answered here*]

Pilgrimage to a Grave

What’s this Earthling word ‘tampon’?

Nevarro costume party

Be-All And Endor pegging bonus scene [*answered here*]

Undercover at the galaxy’s largest wedding fair

Din needs an iPhone charger to find out what Pedro Pascal looks like [*answered here*]

Oh no, he’s hot, ohhh nooo, you’re shallow

The Ghosts of Aq Vetina

Demi Din discovers desire

Grogu’s French Manicure

Arts and crafts competition

Din gets amnesia

Holo-image creed loophole

Grogu removes his dad’s helmet

The Last of Us inspired Mando fic [*answered here*]

I have to make the file names descriptive so I don’t forget what they’re about 😅. Please ask away if anything piques your curiosity. I will update this post with links to any answers 🩵🩷

Okay, 30 titles = 30 tags! If any of you need some inspiration for your WIPs, give this game a go – it’ll get you thinking about them again. Sending you appreciative forehead kisses, friends 🩵🩷

@ak-vintage @albertasunrise @burntheedges @cas-readsandwrites @chronically-ghosted

@covetyou @djarinmuse @djarins-wife @drewharrisonwriter @evolnoomym

@hauntedhowlett-writes @hellishjoel @iamsherlocked-1998 @javierpena-inatacvest @kyberblade

@mermaidgirl30 @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @nerdieforpedro @orcasoul @penvisions

@prolix-yuy @secretelephanttattoo @studioghibelli @syd-djarin @the-mandawhor1an

@thischarmingmandalorian @thundermartini @wannab-urs @whxtedreams @yopossum

[stenshale]

What if…they met as children Handers

oh this one was cute. prompts from here!

“Is the family still out to market?”

Bethany recognized the sound of Nak’s voice calling from the doorway. She furrowed her brow, frowning.

“…Yes,” she called back cautiously. “Why?”

“No reason,” he said, too quickly. “Don’t worry about it.”

Well, that was a surefire way to get her worried. She closed her book and set it on the mattress beside her, standing and padding out to the sitting room.

Half slung over her elder brother’s shoulder was a boy, properly roughed up, who looked to be mostly skin and bones with shaggy, blondeish hair falling into his eyes where it didn’t stick to his scalp with sweat, donned in a long, stuffy-looking robe. Nak was also sporting a split lip and the beginnings of what would bloom into a nasty bruise on his cheek.

“Don’t tell papa,” he said quickly.

“Nak,” she said slowly, trying to convince herself as she spoke, “you did not bring a runaway apostate into the house.”

���We’re apostates!” he argued, jostling the boy at his side just enough to elicit a pained groan. “Dad’s an apostate!”

“If the templars find out-“

“They’re not going to find out! I’ll- I’ll figure something out.”

“What are you going to do, hide him in the closet and feed him your scraps?”

Nak was silent. Bethany felt the beginnings of a headache twinge behind her eye.

“Nak.”

“It could work!”

“He’s not a dog, Nak!” Bethany argued, throwing her hands in the air in exasperation. “Besides, how is a closet any better than the tower?”

“Well, there’s no templars, for one.”

“There’s dad. There’s Carver. There’s me, and I don’t want a stranger living in my closet!”

Nak frowned at the floor. “He’s not a stranger. He said his name was Anders.”

“And you believed him?” Bethany gaped, then screwed her eyes shut, hoping that by the time she opened them, her brother would have come to his senses. “No. No, I don’t care. You have to get him out of here before dad gets back.”

“Fine,” he grumbled. When Bethany opened her eyes, Nak had laid the Anders boy out on the floor, his head cradled in his lap. “Help me heal him up and we’ll go. You can tell Dad I got hungry and ate my dinner early.”

“You aren’t serious.”

“Please, Bethy, you know I was never any good at it. I’ll do your chores for a week.”

Bethany crossed her arms, glowering down at the pair. Nak looked back at her for a moment, then stared at the wall behind her.

“If it was you, I’d want someone to help,” he said quietly. “I wouldn’t want you to be on your own.”

Bethany frowned at him for a while longer, but she could feel her resolve breaking. With a long, put-upon sigh, she dropped to the ground and began to hover her hands over the Anders boy’s bruised ribs.

“Two weeks,” she said. Nak gave her a small, relieved smile and a nod.

“He walked me to the edge of town, gave me a sack of cheese and bread, and sent me on my way,” Anders said with a shrug, running a finger over the edge of his mug. “The templars caught me eventually, of course, but it was kind of him. I never caught his name. I always thought one day I’d go back and…”

“Rekindle your young love?” Varric asked, crossing his arms and leaning forward on the table.

“Thank him,” Anders said, though his small smile betrayed his amusement. “If memory serves, though, that was near Lothering. There wouldn't be much to go back to.”

“Maybe Hawke knew him? Lothering was one of those little farm towns, wasn't it?” Varric asked, turning to Hawke.

Hawke shrugged, hiding a small smile behind the rim of his mug. “Doesn’t sound familiar.”