#[ char: vivienne castle ]

[thedragonscribe19]

Aftermath (Part 1)

"You did it. The great Dread Wolf has won."

"I did what I had too."  

The veil was torn down. The fade flowed like a torrent into the world. Reshaping the land, filling every area, and drowing the inhabitants in its power. It was true he had won. Solas looked at the world he made. He had fixed his wrongs, he had undid the mistakes of the past.

"What's the matter, my love?” She asked.

Lavellans voice was sweet. A cool balm in a world burning down around him. Her slender hand placed on his shoulder. Her grip firm,

The rallying cries of those that follow. Holding her staff in an iron grip as she leads them

yet gentle.

Lavellans staff slips from her hand as does the weight on her shoulders. Her hand extended to him

Solas shook his head and placed his hand on top of hers. Removing it from his shoulder. A bitter smile on his lips as he looked towards his destination. Skyhold. Though not as he remembered it.  

Dark circles drained the life from Lavellan's bright blue eyes, and her normally sun kissed skin was pale. Her ears and nose an irritated red. Those who followed were not in any better shape. Everyone was weary and some were on the verge of frostbite. Others were slowly dying from their wounds. The Inquisition had taken a blow, Haven was destroyed and many were wounded or dead. Yet they still had hope. They weren't all dead yet they just needed a new place to grow their organization. Solas knew of one. They looked towards the gray stone that broke up the endless white of snow. Solas gestured to the structure ahead. As if Lavellan could miss it. Skyhold stood strong and proud against the elements. As if it had been waiting for the Inquisition all this time.  A smile spread across Lavellans face and melted away the icy chill that had over took her. Her blue eyes filled with life.

Solas looked towards the castle. Snow and ice clinged to its crumbling walls. Solas stopped at the bridge to its gate. It seemed as if the wrong gust of wind could bring this place to its knees.

"Guess well need to fix the place up again." Solas heard her speak beside him. Her lips forced into a small grin.

A genuine smile appeared on Lavellans lips. The first time since Haven.

“Its starting to feel like home already"

Her eyes betraying her glistening with unshed tears. Skyhold was gone. Its walls and pride crumbled with the organization that lived in it. Now it just echoed the remains of the past.

“Its empty now." Words thrown into the fade. Thinking they fell onto deaf ears. "Its all a lie. You took that too." Solas listened to the echo’s from a distance.

He didn't respond. Only nodded his head as he made it past the gate. The snow and bits of dead grass that remained crunched under his boots. It was strange seeing it so empty. The large open area, where tents had stood in rows for medics.

They wanted it to be a sparring area. She disagreed. “We should help those we can.” It was what her keeper always taught her.

All was gone leaving no trace behind of there existence. The poles near the steps that held the banners she liked, Dalish to feel more like home, now bare. The fade reacted to that feeling. Laying heavy on Skyhold as if to preserve what it could as little as it was. Besides the spirits trying to fill the space of those left behind there wasn't anything left of the Inquisition.

One spirit continually crossed the void that once was a bridge to the commanders office. Its hands resting against the hilt of its blade and armor fluffing near the top like a lions main.

The door to his study rushes open. Lavellan enters face contorted "Did Cullen come through here? I need to speak with him." She's worried. Always looking out for others never herself.

"Seems fitting for that kind of spirit to mimic him." Her gaze is far off as she watches it cross into the office. Another spirit resembling a soldier, probably Jim, following after with a report in hand. "Valor."

“Go" his voice is like a roar that barely breaks through the choas. "I will give you all the time I can." It's not enough.

"Yes." Solas finally finds some words to speak. "He deserved as much."

His eyes falling on the spirit of integrity that stood admits a pile of charred wood and hay. In front of the spirit was a piece of wood that was slowly being chipped away. Though no hands touched it. The block forming into the shape of a birds head.

“He won't tell me what he's making." She huffs and deepens her voice in a crude mimic of the Warden voice. "You'll see when its finished" Solas grins at the attempt. His mind freed from his own troubles and Lavellan smiles in return. She always knew when his mind was troubled and how to bring a smile back to his face.

The spirit wipes some wood chips from his beard. It turns his head for a moment giving a gruff nod before returning to its work.

His shield raises and catches the arrow. "I'll stay and help Cullen." The griffon on his chest shines as he takes his last stand. He didn't run this time.

She grabs Solas' arm gently. Pulling him away from his memories and towards the stone steps. Though by now they aren't really stone. Vines had grown up the sides of the walls choking the stone. Gripping it as it crumbled. Burrowing into the cracks. He felt her grip loosen when the tavern came into view.

The roof had caved in completely and through the door frame all you could see were the fallen beams that had been holding up the second floor. Her knees trembled as she walked towards the building.

Comfort and friends. A chance to relax. Laughter pouring out of every crevice. "Just one round of Wicked Grace." Lavellan pleads him with a smile. Solas shakes his head. "To afraid you'll lose?" Her eyebrows dance trying to entice him. "One round." He concedes. Its the only time he does so. He wishes he had done it once more.

She places a single hand on the wall and hung her head. Solas stayed back as three spirits emerged from the ruins.

One going by the wall near her and whispering something Solas couldn't hear. It's hair choppy and clothes mostly patches of mismatch patterns.

Solas shook his head as Lavellan told him of Sera's pranks. Why did she agree to something so immature.

"Its her way of showing she cares." Lavellan tells him.

The spirit of kindness puts its arm around her in comfort. Then it threw its head back and laughed with a snort. The other two spirits soon joined the bunch.

The one standing at least three heads above the rest. With horns as wide as his shoulders. On its back a broadsword, a little damaged but still battle ready.

A hearty laugh shook the whole building as they regal the story of the dragon they baited to them. “You're the best, boss."  Lavellan later tells Solas that she's glad the Iron Bull doesn't call her Herald or Inquisitor. Still wishes people would just call her Neria but it’s better than nothing.

The other held its head high. Covered by an ornate headdress. Shoulders back as it looked around at the world.

Hard exterior that could not be punctured. Eyes cold as ice. Her gaze softens ever so slightly as she lends her advice. "Vivienne may not be the...nicest." Lavellan pinches her nose. "But she is helping. In her own way."

The two spirits, fortitude and command, watched for a moment before command ushered kindness back inside the ruins.

“My dear I think you'll need to go on ahead." Vivienne’s voice is even, her hands crackling with unshed magic. Lavellan shook her head before speaking. Vivienne couldn't withstand alone.

"Ugh fine. Make me feel all bad and stuff. Bossy lady won't be alone." Sera notched an arrow as she responded. "Just let the baldy know that the weirdy mage stuff is weird and stick 'im with an arrow if he says what." Lavellan once again disagreed.

"You and the others go on ahead boss." He cracked his neck and reached for his sword on his back. "We've got this." The last thing she heard was the Bulls roars, Sera's insults and Viviennes ice crackling. They last thing they saw was each other fall.

Solas turned from the destroyed ruin and sighed. Her hands returned to his arms as a small form of comfort.

"I know its hard, but we can rebuild it. Before you know it there will be singing and laughter coming from it once again." She sounded wistful and distant. Her voice laced with the fade.

Lavellan sat beside Solas. Fingers intertwined under the table. Fitted perfectly to each other. The tunes of their adventures dancing through the air. She laughs at Sera rolling her eyes to the new song.

“It's not that bad."

"Wait till they sing about you and your Inquisiziness." Sara replies. "Creepy song is creepy."

Solas doesn't say anything doesn't move. For a seoncd she begins to worry he isn't breathing. His face pale and eyes red. She tugs at his arm again to get him moving. Muttering that he needs to get out of the cold and lay down. So she gently guides him once again. This time up the stairs into the castle. The castle he had left behind long ago to escape the memories past. The past that was all now rushing to the surface.

[tzardimitri-blog]

Mad King || self-para

The guard had been bragging about sleeping with Vivienne. His Vivienne. She was going to be Tsarina of Russia at his side an as far as the rest of the world was concerned the only person she’d ever been with was him. Dimitri could deal with knowing himself, but he couldn’t let her reputation be dragged through the mud by some petty guard. His own guards had informed him that they’d taken him to the dungeons like the Tzar had asked them to. He needed privacy for this talk. 

Making his way through the castle he ignored everyone who tried to say anything to him. He had to figure out how to approach this, his first instinct was torture, good and true. But at the moment his bragging was just rumors. He’d only had to threaten the cook once before he was spilling his guts about who’d been talking about sleeping with the princess. Peter, he should have figured out it was him. The guard who was always around her, or had been around her until recently. It angered him that she’d not sent him out of her service for more time than she did, but there were more important matters. 

Entering the dungeons Dimitri nodded to his guards to send them away before he entered the cell, candles lighting the room. Peter was tied to a char that they’d brought down for him, it seemed they too knew what he was going to do. A black eye was forming on his face, he’d put up a fight with the guards. Not smart but at least the man would know this was serious. Grabbing his hair he touched the bruise on his face, “Not smart to fight when a King calls you somewhere.” Letting go of his hair the guard glared at him. 

“Now I want to ask you, and I do expect a very good answer to this. Why did you brag about sleeping with the German Princess?” He’d keep his hands clean as long as he could. “Everyone I spoke to was very clear that it was indeed you who opened your mouth.” When he was angry his accent was much thicker, the words almost too rough on his tongue to be actual English. Peter stayed silent, refusing to even look at Dimitri. “I suggest you start talking!” he snapped at the man, pushing his head back. “Now.”

His jaw was clenched and shaking, he wanted to say something and if it wasn’t what he wanted to hear Dimitri was done with just asked. “You are not my king. I have nothing to say to you.” Wrong answer. His knuckles connected with his face, not bothering to hold anything back. Looking down at his hand there was already blood on them. His nose was either broken or just bleeding. “I will go to the King!” 

Raising his eyes to look at him a smirk came to his face, “You think it’s wise to tell King Axl that you slept with his sister? I will be sure to bring you right to him after our talk. She is to be my wife, she will rule Russia at my side. You are trying to destroy my Queen’s reputation. I deal with you first.” 

When blood was spat in his face Dimitri didn’t hesitate before pulling his dagger from his waist and digging it into the guards leg. The yell that left him did nothing to the Tzar, he’d heard screams from much worse. “Try again. Perhaps with your words this time.” Pulling the blade up he screamed again. “If you can scream you can talk.”

Peters chest was heaving as he finally looked at him again, “I did. I had her.” Dimitri knew that but he didn’t want to hear it. “I was the first!” He yelled. Ripping the knife from his leg another scream left him as blood poured from the wound. “Not you.” he was still able to speak. 

There was no smirk anymore, only anger. “Good for you.” he growled before plunging the dagger into his shoulder. Ignoring his cries Dimitri leaned closer. “You had her first but I have had her every other time. She does not even remember your name let alone how your worthless cock felt. You took five minutes of her time and I am giving her a life time of pleasure. Trust me Peter. She has no idea who you are anymore. Pathetic that you hold onto something that does not even think of you.” He patted the man’s cheek, blood getting on his hand. “You speak of my Tsarina when you open your mouth. You speak of my Vivienne. Tell me why I should not kill you right now?” 

It was a sick thrill, watching the man try to form words through his pain. Blood poured from his leg and his shoulder where his blade still stayed. The man coughed before Dimitri leaned in to hear him. “Hard to forget me when she hasn’t stopped coming to my bed.” 

Anger boiled inside of him and he saw red. His fist connected with his already bloody face, knocking him to the ground. She hadn’t stopping going to his bed. Stepping on his chest he pulled his blade from his shoulder, digging his foot against the bleeding wound. “You wanted to see your King. You can see him. Tell him how you ruined his chance at peace.”

Pulling the man up from the floor, the chair had already broken from his fall. Grabbing him by the hair he pulled him out of the dungeons and through the hall towards Axl’s office. This was why he was like this, things didn’t get solved if you were kind. His father had instilled that in him, his father made him strong. But his father was an idiot. Dimitri wasn’t, he was better than he was. If everyone thought he was a mad king then he would give them fuel for it. He’d wear the crown of the mad king if they wanted him to. 

Pushing the door open to the German King’s office he threw the bleeding guard down in front of him. Axl stood up from his seat looking between the two. “I think that is yours. He has things to tell you.” He walked out before Axl could say anything.