#and they get transferred to ostwick circle

[abyssal-ilk]

vivienne having "early promise" in the orlesian game at the age of nineteen when she previously spent her entire life in the free marches (born in wycome and raised in the ostwick circle tower) kind of rots my brain. the orlesian game takes years to master, the slightest mistake can end with your social (and often times, literal) death, and yet vivienne thrived in montsimmard and the orlesian court. but i can't get over the fact that she was nineteen and showing so much promise. a free marcher at nineteen who's never stepped foot in orlais before transferring to the montsimmard circle.

and then i think about the fact that vivienne only mentions her time in the montsimmard circle when you ask her what her experience was like in the circles. the only knowledge we have about her time in the ostwick circle is that she was put through the harrowing young and this voice line from cole:

[rookinthecrownest]

Inquisitor Iris Trevelyan

Name: Iris Emmeline Trevelyan

Race: Human

Class: Mage

Subclass: Evoker

Birthplace: Ostwick, Free Marches

Family:

Daughter of Bann Aethelred Trevelyan and Lady Mireille Beaumont-Trevelyan. She has two older brothers, William and Marcus, and two younger sisters (who are twins), Claudette and Colette.

History:

Born in Ostwick as the middle daughter and first daughter of the wealthy and well-respected, Maker-fearing (very Andrastian) Trevelyan family. She had quite the blessed existence- having everything her heart desired, from horses to jewelry to clothes and everything in between. Or, at least she did until her mage powers manifested in a very public display at a Wintersend Ball. A few boys had made fun of her new dress, and poured wine all over it. Iris, in a rage, mind-blasted one of the boys half-way across the ballroom. Her older brother Marcus, a Templar in the Ostwick Circle, used his Templar abilities to bring her to heel. Unfortunately the damage was done and the public nature of the reveal of her powers meant quite a scandal for the Trevelyan family.

Marcus, after dragging his own sister to the Circle of Ostwick, still in her ruined dress.

The family cut off communication with her at that point. Her parents were shamed by the scandal of having a mage in the family. Her sisters feared for their marriage prospects. Marcus transferred to the Starkhaven Circle of Magi in shame.

Iris, feeling abandoned by her faith and her family, dedicates herself to rising to the top of the Circle's ranks. She was on track to becoming one of the youngest Senior Enchanters in the history of the Ostwick Circle, prior to it burning down and being disbanded. She had fled with a small group of mages to the Mages Retreat at Andoral's reach. There, it was decided by a group of Senior Enchanters and Fiona that Iris and a small contingent of mages and one Senior Enchanter would act as representatives at the Conclave.

Events of DA:I and Trespasser:

During DA:I, Iris revels in her title and the power it gives her. She's very much a willing protagonist - maybe a little too willing. She doesn't waste any time using her savvy political maneuvering to her benefit. With the help of Josephine and Leliana, the three are a force to be reckoned with. She encourages Leliana to spread the rumour that she was chosen by Andraste, that she is indeed her Herald. She doesn't fear the Anchor as much as she should - she's more curious about it and what it can do for her than anything.

She sided with the mages (of course), and recruited them as allies. She also recruited the Grey Wardens.

Iris was known to judge prisoners moreso based on what would serve her purposes, rather than what was necessarily morally correct. Her philosophy is never to use an axe where a scalpel would do.

For example, knowing that brute force and numbers is what she needs to defeat Corypheus' army, she chooses to let Celene get assassinated and puts Gaspard on the throne of Orlais.

She leaves Hawke in the Fade because she knows the Grey Wardens can't afford to lose a senior Warden during a time of chaos, knowing what it would do to Varric.

Iris has a bone to pick with the Chantry and its opinions on mages and mage's rights. She really milks the idea that a mage is the Herald of Andraste for all that its worth. She loves wielding power and influence over the institution that cost her her life and her family. As such, because of her more liberal opinions she places Leliana on the throne. She would have loved to put Vivienne, her close friend, on the throne - but their opposing views on Circles leads her to choose Leliana instead.

After Corypheus' defeat, Iris is essentially stuck between Orlais and Ferelden with regards to the fate of the Inquisition.

Orlais wants the Inquisition to stay active, and to absorb its forces through the marriage of Gaspard and Iris. Fereldan wants it disbanded and the institutions secrets/information kept on a tight leash, also through the marriage of King Alistair and Iris. Both monarchs are vying for the Inquisitor's hand, while she chafes under the pressure of deciding and resents the lack of control she once again faces in her life, after her tenure as Inquisitor provided her with more freedom than she's had in years.

And, just so you can all appreciate how dramatic this insane woman is, after the events of Trespasser she takes her severed arm back with her and has the Divine inter it in the Grand Cathedral as a religious object.

Oh, and the magic of the Anchor had spread to her left eye, eventually corrupting her vision, so Solas turns her left eye to stone as well.

You can often see her wearing a mask that covers the left half of her face.

Friends in the Inquisition: Dorian, Vivienne, Leliana, Josephine

Love interest: King! Alistair

[kirkwallguy]

what was so scandalous about mary's brother

he's a gay templar so be was doomed from the start </3 he has this whole convoluted backstory that i still need to get straight, but essentially he has an affair with a mage at ostwick and it's a massive embarrassment, the mage gets mage tranquil as punishment for both of them, but he's so weird about it that he gets transferred to a "quieter" circle (kinloch)

[cassiaorsellio]

🖊 🖊 🖊 for Arthur!!

thank you! I focused on some platonic relationships for this one.

— Supporting Cullen's decision to stop taking lyrium stems in part from Arthur having experience with templars who have taken lyrium for decades, both as a healer and in his personal relationships (some of his relatives and Simon.) After Trespasser and Cullen establishes his sanctuary, Arthur speaks with his Marcher kin - particularly the ones with children or siblings who were or are still in the Order - and works to get some funding for it. He figures it's the least he can do.

— Arthur didn't have the best of starts with Sera and their relationship is absolutely at its worst just after her personal quest (she killed Harmond on this run, but typically Arthur recruits him) and it pisses her off that he treats her like he would a misbehaving apprentice and he's acting like he's got a stick up his arse (he has.) One prank later (the custard on the stairs prank that Bull mentions to Sera), him looking extremely undignified in the process, and he changes his tune. Instead, he tries to focus on what they could bond over rather than what they would clash over: alchemy! And they end up developing and refining several of the in-game recipes that can be crafted, such as the healing grenade, as well as her tempest flasks. Them spending time in the Undercroft is also how she gets talking to Dagna.

—Arthur and Vivienne have known each other a long time. Vivienne was originally put into the Ostwick Circle so it was very likely that she and Arthur could have been in the same classes as each other as there's only a couple of years difference between them (based off my maths, she's probably around 45-48, while Arthur is 49/50 during DA:I.) While they fell out of touch when she was transferred to Montsimmard, they managed to remain in contact with each other through letters after reconnecting at a convening of the College of Magi in Cumberland.

[chronurgy]

Warden - Ailith Amell

Human mage (blood mage/shapeshifter), she/her, Romance: Zevran, Status: unknown (I haven't decided if she does the dark ritual or not)

Presents the image of the quiet, easy going circle mage. Upon closer contact, it becomes clear that her supposed easy going nature is a facade over a cauldron of boiling anger and resentment.

Champion - Caelan Hawke

Purple Hawke, they/them, class: mage, romance: Anders, status: alive and well

Charming, funny, and better at running away from their problems than facing them.

Inquisitors

I have four inquisitors (though I certainly haven't even made it out of the hinterlands with all of them). It's two sets of siblings, with small choices in their pasts changing who is sent to the conclave.

Gawain Trevelyan

Human mage, he/him, romance: Josephine

Gawain was a younger son of the Trevelyan family who came into his magic unusually late and therefore remembered much of his life outside the circle. He attended the conclave in hopes of finding news of his younger sister Rhian, who was sent to the circle at Kirkwall not long after he was sent to Ostwick.

Divergence point from Rhian - not long after his arrival at the circle, Gawain became very ill. His mother desperately tried to bribe the knight-commander of Ostwick to bring a spirit healer from another circle to save his life. In this timeline, she succeeded.

Gawain is quiet, calm, and competent. He gets along well with everyone, even as he pushes implacably for mage freedom. At least until he finds out that his sister died in the Gallows years ago, and that it was Cullen who carried out the sentence. Then things start to spiral.

Rhian Trevelyan

Human mage, she/they, romance: Josephine

Rhian was the youngest daughter of the Ostwick Trevelyans. She developed magic not long after her older brother Gawain and thus could not be sent to the Ostwick circle. She was sent to the Gallows instead.

Divergence point from Gawain - in Rhian's timeline, their mother is not successful at bribing the knight-commander and Gawain dies. Fearing the wrath of a noble matron who saw her son die, the knight-commander has Rhian transferred to Ostwick in an attempt to both assuage her grief and save his own position.

She wears her anger and her scars like armor. She also feels a lot of guilt around her brother's death, knowing that it's the only reason she wasn't in the Gallows as things got worse. She's all coiled rage as inquisitor, coiled rage over an endless pit of fear. She's competent but makes few friends despite it.

Zahale Lavellan

Elven mage, he/they, romance: Dorian

He and Viridis are twins. Their divergence happens early in their lives - in his version of the timeline, he is the first twin to be discovered to have magic and is quickly apprenticed to the keeper as his First.

Zahale struggled in Clan Lavellan. He loved his family but he never felt like he really belonged. He hated being First, hated the idea that all these people would one day look to him as their leader. When he went to the conclave, he wasn't sure he intended to come back.

As inquisitor he is simultaneously trapped and free. He's left his clan behind and started to find somewhere he can maybe belong, but now he has more people depending on him than ever before.

Viridis Lavellan

Elven mage, she/her, romance: Solas

In her version of the timeline, she's the first twin to be found using magic and she is the one apprenticed to the keeper as his First, a position she takes to like a duck to water. Viridis has always been the dutiful daughter. She loves nature, loves Clan Lavellan, looks forward to being keeper and guiding another generation of Dalish in their traditions. When she is sent to the conclave, she goes to spy on the proceedings as her keeper instructed her, though she holds a quiet hope in her heart that she will hear something of her brother Zahale who left the clan in the middle of the night nearly a year ago.

As inquisitor she's thoughtful, kind, always seeking the best in people, and ever concerned with how her decisions will affect her people. She carries them in her heart always. She refuses Solas's offer to remove her vallaslin, seeing them as marks of kinship and belonging. And it destroys her when she finds out who he really is. She loses her whole foundation. How could she ever claim to protect and shepherd her clan if she herself fell prey so easily to the dread wolf?

[pinayelf-archive]

thinkin abt how nate participated in the tourney again

[baejax-the-great]

Drunk and thinking only of Bethany Hawke

[lords-of-fortune]

Actually, a non-meme question too, that I'd like to tag in @gvnseylike for as well. Hopefully not breaching some sort of tumblr etiquette asking but I'm so curious about Rodaine and Gideon, what's happening there? Last I saw they kissed for an oc meme and now I keep seeing you both tagging stuff about their dynamic, feels like I'm overhearing Circle gossip about them lmao

I'm answering this one first because I am still mulling over my Hawke thoughts and Gideon x Rodaine has taken over my whole ass brain for the past few days ajdkdk. Some of this is paraphrased from @gvnseylike bc I also showed her this ask

So it did start out with that meme where it was established that Gideon would kiss Rodaine after asking for his assistance with magic stuff. And then we moved into Tumblr dms, still mulling over the idea of Them and realizing they had some really interesting backstory parallels but like completely opposite beliefs and then it spiraled into discord bc Tumblr dms suck and now our main au of them is:

They were both in Kinloch where Gideon initiated their relationship by demanding that Rodaine tutor him and then proceeding to distract Rodaine from tutoring him by kissing him. -> they are both touch-starved sadboys who quickly fell hard for each other despite their bickering and differences (a little bit rivals to lovers >:3c) -> the events of mage origin occurred except that Gideon was privy to the plan and betrayed them to Greagoir and Irving because he was afraid of Rodaine getting hurt/killed in this escape attempt. -> Rodaine is recruited, they part on bad terms and all of origins happens pretty much as it did in my base playthrough (Including being woth Morrigan and having Kieran). Meanwhile Gideon is transferred to Ostwick where he's mostly thriving but also slightly haunted by losing Rodaine. (Extra haunted by the news of Ostagar and then following his journey closely through news and later A History of the Fifth Blight once he finds out he survived.) -> Awakening also happens as played and including my headspace canon of Rodaine hooking up with Anders on a strictly fwb basis but this time it's more embarrassing because Anders looks an awful lot like Gideon (Rodaine has Type when it comes to men and that type is blond) Anders leaves, but crucially Rodaine *doesn't* go after Morrigan and remains Warden-commander -> Gideon begins writing him letters from Ostwick, and against Rodaine’s better judgment, he replies and they strike up a rapport and remembering when they were in love. And then Rodaine makes a trip to Ostwick (usually on a whim bc Gideon reveals to him that Rodaine’s sister is also there) and ends up bringing Gideon back to Amaranthine with him as court mage bc he still has Feelings and they end up rekindling -> Gideon is invited to the Conclave to speak for the Loyalists and then DAI occurs with him as Inquisitor. Often Rodaine is hanging around Skyhold bc it is fun but also he is sometimes off looking for the cure to the calling and long-distance refereeing arguments between Gideon and Tierce. There Are awkward encounters with Morrigan when Rodaine Is around.

Overall, they're both complete messes and their relationship is fraught with disagreements, deep affection, and the development of an Andrastian kink so convoluted it loops back around from blasphemy to being blessed and condoned by Andraste herself. And I am obsessed with them. I'm sure Cole will let me know if I missed anything important and I Will absolutely be accepting further questions at this time because their dynamic is. Incredibly fun.

[persephoneggsy]

... has anyone considered a Mage!Sebastian AU

instead of being exiled from Starkhaven for drunken shenanigans and sleeping around, Sebastian gets sent away much earlier because he unexpectedly manifests magic (maybe he sets one of his brothers on fire a little).

i think he resents his magic for a long time, maybe even thinking his parents were relieved he turned out to be a mage so they could wash their hands of an inconvenient third son early. of course, his parents also hate the fact that he’s a mage, if only because it brings shame to their family and makes arranging marriages with their other two sons much harder, since everyone now fears that magic will pop up in their heirs, too.

as a noble, he’d probably get sent to one of the “nicer” circles, list Ostwick or Montsimmard (i personally like Montsimmard so Vivienne can be his mentor uwu). so he grows up kind of sheltered, not experiencing the worst the circle has to offer, though he’s aware that abuses happen. i can almost see him being like a pre-grey warden anders, sneaking out for his own amusement until the templars drag him back, with the added bonus that because he’s got royal blood they’re not gonna risk executing him or making him tranquil.

maybe the thrill of his repeated escape attempts wears off, or he gets properly chastised by his mentor, and he realizes he has an opportunity to be an example: a “good” mage, someone to prove to the common people of Thedas that they don’t all fall to demons and blood magic.

then for whatever reason he gets transferred to Kirkwall’s Gallows. maybe to help mentor the mages there, i don’t know. there, he finds his status means much less to Meredith and her templars, and he sees the horrors his fellow mages face much more openly. 

my trail of thought is drifting off, but i imagine he still meets (mage) Hawke & Co. (though i’m not sure how he’d be allowed to travel with them). Hawke is the first apostate he’s had extended contact with, and he’s fascinated by her; she’s definitely dangerous, but he can’t bring himself to be afraid of her. he’s also curious about Merrill, having never met a Dalish mage; he probably asks her all sorts of questions about magic in their culture. and I think with Anders he’s definitely friendlier, but the relationship fractures as time goes on because he finds Anders’ methods to be too extreme, whereas Anders thinks he’s too complacent.

[anatidae-dragonage]

Welcome to dadwc!! "I’ve no language left to say it. All I do is quake to her," from the song lyric prompts really intrigued me. Feel free to write for a pairing of your choosing!

Three months later I'm getting around to a welcome prompt! Thank you asgkghjgf. Lyrics are from “Foreigner’s God” by Hozier, which I now have spent 5 hours listening to today.

I went OC rarepair, my Delilah Surana x Magdalena Trevelyan, and then it got a little out of hand.

Set in an AU where Surana was transferred to the Ostwick Circle after the uprising and Trevelyan is now Inquisitor, successor to this piece I wrote for an exchange.

Word Count: ~1800

Rating: E for brief sexual content near the end

(More plot than porn, but it’s there.)

Pairing: f!Surana/f!Trevelyan

Warnings: Explicit/NSFW, religious themes, angst

@dadrunkwriting

~~

The night is dark and moonless as Magdalena slips from camp, heartbeat fast in her throat. Meet me, the note had said, and nothing else. Meet me. She knows where on instinct--the fields south of the Crossroads, the last place they’d brushed lives before slipping away. 

They were always meant to slip away.

She’d waited until the guards’ shift change, fleeing through the Hinterlands on silent feet. You can leave when you want now, a voice whispers in her head, the one that’s always sounded like Hers. The issue isn’t the when. It’s the where. It’s the who. She prays that Cassandra and Dorian sleep through the night. She prays that Varric, who pretends not to see, doesn’t tell. She prays she’ll make it back before sunrise.

She shivers as she finds the path that parts the trees. Somehow, it had been hard to imagine the chill in the daylight. They’d collected coats and blankets for refugees, but now Magdalena wishes she had kept one for herself. Back in Haven she has furs, a cloak hardly fit for battle, but warm and her own. She imagines Surana’s face if she’d shown up wrapped in ermine and has to smile. She doesn’t risk magic though as she shivers, nothing to warm or shield, nothing that will glow as she stumbles in the dark. Too many dangers. It’s stupid enough to be out here alone, but she just has to see her.

She just has to see her.

Silhouetted in meager starlight, Surana waits for her in the center of the field. She’s coatless too, thin robes torn and patched, frays clear even from a distance. Magdalena had pointed her to a cache, but six blankets wouldn’t have gone far through the forces she knows Surana has.

Forces. Surana would scowl to know she thinks it. There are children in their midst, Magdalena knows, and tranquil, elderly, weak. Forces. Is it the Inquisition’s influence, or what her own mind had shaped of the rebellion?

She fights the urge to run to her, fists clenched at her sides to keep from waving as she walks steady. She has hopes and dreams, and none match the tone of this meeting. Surana smiles, though, when they’re close enough to see the outlines of each other’s faces in the dark.

“You came,” Magdalena breathes, as if Surana hadn’t been the one to send the invitation.

“Have I ever lied to you?” The question hangs heavy in the air. She hasn’t. The implication is clear. Can Magdalena say the same?

“Why?” she brings herself to ask. Surana shakes her head.

I had to see you again, Magdalena wants her to say.

“I had to know if you were okay.”

She almost laughs. Okay doesn’t exist in the same realm as this world they live in. Her eyes scan the shadow of furrows in the dark. They weren’t left by plows or hoofprints. The land is bloody, scarred by magic, grenades, and untold sorrows. Okay doesn’t exist in Haven or in her friends’ eyes. There’s hope. There’s hunger. There are stolen moments of joy. Okay takes a neutrality Magdalena doesn’t know if she’s ever known.

 She knows Surana hasn’t.

“Mag.” The voice cuts into her thoughts.

“I’m okay,” she says. More okay than the nightmares Surana has likely spun for her. She’s not held captive or at a Templar’s sword. She doesn’t stay up weeping, longing for home.

“Mag.”

She dosen’t want to cry tonight. Doesn’t want Surana to see her the way Delilah always had. Delilah, a name no one else had ever been allowed to use. No one but Magdalena—Mag, then, now. No one but her until the night on the hill they’d finished the job of twisting each other’s heart out and gone their separate ways.

What is this now? 

They’d kissed in this field, in the full sight of Cassandra.

“Are you safe?” she asks instead of answering. Surana’s smile is wry. 

“I’m safe.” Get what you give, the message is clear. She’d always been like that, a narrow and burning sense of justice. Eye for an eye, heart for a heart. They’ve both grown in the months since they’d parted, Mag knows, in the years since they’d first met, but something about the look in the other’s eyes always brings them back here. 

I’d get on my knees for you, Delilah had said once, eyes wide and somehow terrified. She wouldn’t now, Mag knows, and that thought brings her something close to comfort. So many would, for the Herald of Andraste. Had those years in Ostwick’s chapel granted her blessing or curse?

Delilah had never kneeled before the Maker. She doubts Surana would start now.

Mag shakes her head to clear it, and the anchor crackles.

“It isn’t safe here,” she tells Surana as she briefly glows green, and then regrets it, not ready to be sent away.

“I know a place,” she responds though, and when she offers a hand Mag has to swallow hard. Her voice dips somewhere close to a teasing tone. “And I’ll protect you.”

Her go to phrase, but in their years in Ostwick’s Circle, who had been protecting whom? 

Surana’s hand is familiar in hers, but she can feel the criss-crossing of scars left by her magic.

Your friend is a blood mage, Cassandra had said. Friend, lover, enemy. They’d never quite found a word for it.

Which would they be tonight?

Surana leads her across a sunken bridge and over a series of boulders, and Mag can hear rushing water ahead with a crisp echo. They walk upstream, silent as they balance on flat river rocks, and Mag thinks of what she’ll say. 

She thought they’d said goodbye already. She thought they’d spoken their piece in the daylight.

“Here,” Surana breathes. They come to a pool, hidden behind rocks and shrouded in a waterfall. Surana drops to all fours to crawl behind it and then offers her a hand. Equal ground, Mag thinks as she too drops to her knees.

They sit on the stone and just watch. Mag wonders if Surana can hear her heartbeat, see the way her eyes fall to her lips in the dark. Let me show you, a part of her whispers. Show her what? she argues back. The feeling is unnamable and overwhelming, makes her stomach drop and her hands itch.

“You’re doing it again,” Surana says. Mag’s eyes snap back to hers—It’s dark, but she imagines them as warm and brown, in this moment the same as ever. 

“Doing what?”

“Overthinking. Arguing with yourself. Arguing with your Maker.”

“That’s your job,” she answers on instinct, but Surana only shakes her head. She looks then doesn’t. She almost reaches out. “Surana….”

“Don’t call me that tonight.”

That’s all it takes to break her—the part that knows this ends one way, the part she’d tried to build stony against heartbreak. Surana—Delilah sees the pain in her eyes and moves in to kiss it away. Mag lets her tip her backward against the damp sandstone, leg swung over hers, curtain of tangled hair shielding them from the night.

“Delilah,” she whispers instead, and Delilah laughs against her lips, pulling back just enough to breathe:

“I hate it.” She kisses her. “Say it again.”

“Delilah.” 

Mag knows she wants the upper hand, knows from the hunger of the kisses she presses to her lips and then her neck, knows from the tension in the arms that frame her face. She knows everything that Delilah has to say and every move she’ll say it with. And Delilah has the words Mag has never been good with, has never been brave enough for. She pushes herself up on her elbows, because this is all she can give her. This is the only way she has to say it. The only reprieve she can offer.

With gentle hands, she urges Delilah up and backwards, and through the palm on the center of her chest she can feel her heartbeat. She risks a magelight, blue and flickering, to see Delilah’s eyes. There’s none of the uncertainty she fears she’ll find there. Delilah grins, gaze flicking to the light and back to Mag again. One hand reaches up to stroke her face, but it doesn’t push her away. Down they go, Mag on top, Delilah’s hair fanned beneath them, and in a different time Mag would have washed it and combed it and braided it away. Tonight she kisses her, slow and sweet, real and unyielding. 

Tonight she makes love her apology.

Tonight she lifts Delilah to the Golden City that she doesn’t believe in, before it was black and broken.

One hand cups her cheek, holds her close, holds her steady. The other moves down Delilah’s body, slipping under seams and undoing buttons. She wears the same robes she’s always worn, no surprise. Mag knows how to move them up, leave them fanned like angel’s wings, and she smiles as her fingers release the final loop. Delilah’s body is muscled now, scarred. It’s still warm and thrumming with the magic she’d never quite wanted to control.

“Ah,” Delilah gasps against her lips as her fingers squeeze her hips. “Magdalena.”

“Mag,” she insists. She is Magdalena to the Inquisition. Let her be Mag here tonight. Slowly she slips down Delilah’s body, apologetic kisses to her jawline when she leaves her lips, gentle ones that skim her throat and move down her front, over her stained robes and to where they’re parted. When she licks a trail below her navel, Delilah shivers and weaves a hand through her hair. 

“Delilah,” she whispers again before dropping down. Delilah and Mag, the people they can’t afford to be. 

It’s easy, returning here. As practiced as prayer. Dark and hot and honeyed, electric and raw. Delilah gasps when she comes, shaking under her lips and hands, fingers scratching against the rock instead of knotting in her hair. She pants but doesn’t make another sound.

There are tears in both of their eyes when she resurfaces. 

And they don’t speak. Delilah kisses her, more gently than she ever has, and when she lays her down on the rocks she knows this is the only conversation they’ll have. The only thing that won’t drag on the hurt. 

When Mag hears a bird’s song she knows it’s time to leave. Delilah seems to sense it. 

“Thank you for coming,” is all she says, and when Mag stands she climbs to her feet beside her. There’s no witty comment that follows. There’s nothing sappy in reply. 

Tomorrow, Mag leaves for Redcliffe, and then she leaves the Hinterlands behind. They’d already said their good lucks and goodbyes. This was extra. Salt in the wound. Honey in the pot.

“Yeah,” she says ineloquently. Their walk back down the stream is on wobbly legs. They split back near the field, Magdalena to her camp and Surana to hers. 

“Wait,” Surana whispers before Magdalena turns her back. “Andraste light your path.”

Magdalena breathes deep. 

“And you light yours.”

[vallaslins]

Don’t mages get shipped to other circles though? Like iirc, Vivienne is from the Free Marches, and Anders wasn’t from Ferelden. Maybe a lot of mages get taken into custody in their home country and sent to Orlais.

They do get moved around sometimes, and don't always get placed in the same country they were captured in (see Revka Amell's children) but my impression is most mages stay in one Circle their whole lives. Because of that, my guess was the numbers largely balance out despite people being moved. But certainly the option is there for people to be moved or placed to avoid or eliminate overcrowding.

Vivienne grew up in the Ostwick Circle. I don't think we know why she was transferred, but I'd guess she was transferred for a similar reason to Karl, who was ostensibly moved because the Gallows had some sort of vacancy or gap in position/experience.

Anders is from Fereldan, his father is originally from the Anderfels but moved to Fereldan as a child. I guess Anders' father looks stereotypically Anders and Anders inherited his looks?

[rookinthecrownest]

Random tidbits of Iris lore Ive been thinking about

-Her younger sisters resenting her for being a mage and ruining their marital prospects. ‘No one will want to marry us now that they know magic runs in our family’

-Templar older brother transferring out of the Ostwick Circle to a different Circle in the Free Marches out of shame

-Her father and mother have a deeply unhappy marriage and her being a mage is like the final nail in the coffin.

-Her mother resents her father for asking for her hand in marriage. They met at the Grand Tourney where her mother was cheering for her true love, Ser Torr. It was a doomed relationship anyway because he was just a knight and she was the daughter of a wealthy merchant family but they loved each other nonetheless. When her father, Bann Aelred Trevelyan saw her he fell in love instantly and petitioned her father that day for her hand in marriage

-She gets no special treatment because of her name in the Circle. Everything she accomplished she did so of her own volition

-Will eventually realize it is a little fucked up of her to only start caring about mage rights when it personally affected her

-Immediately suspicious of Blackwall and his Grey Warden story. Brings him to the Thaig on purpose to see if their group will get ambushed by Darkspawn.

[merrybandofmurderers]

tagged by @fade-and-loathing-in-thedas, so here's a bit from chapter 3 of the tranquil oc fic (no this fic isn't dead i'm just struggling 😔)

Ambassador Montilyet follows them out. “A moment, if I may?”

Gwythren hears the click of armor as the Knight-Lieutenant expels a silent breath. “Of course.”

She ushers them into her office and gestures to the chairs set in front of an ornate desk. Gwythren sits. The Knight-Lieutenant takes his place beside and just behind their chair.

Ambassador Montilyet hesitates a moment, then smiles glitteringly and sits behind the desk. “I hoped to speak with you both. As prominent figureheads of our growing cause, we ought to get to know you.”

Gwythren blinks. “We are figureheads of an organization that was made official this morning.”

She straightens the papers in front of her. “The Inquisition has been building prior to the Conclave—under the purview of the late Divine. But word has traveled quickly, and people arrive in Haven every day.” Her gaze flickers over Gwythren’s face, but her smile does not falter. “Your daring contributions will no doubt go down in history, and the story is already spreading.”

Gwythren’s chair creaks as the Knight-Lieutenant leans against it. “So you need to know our histories in case any scandals may come to light,” he says wryly.

Her expression turns apologetic. “An unfortunate reality of politics, I’m afraid. Falling under a spotlight requires tending to one’s public image.”

“Well, I’m afraid you’ll find our lives quite unentertaining. The Nightingale might know more, in fact.”

Ambassador Montilyet sighs, elegant fingers fluttering on the desktop. “I’m sure Leliana will do her own research, but for the moment, I would like to hear from you.” She takes up her feathered quill. “Master Gwythren?”

“You do not need to address me with a title.”

Knight-Lieutenant Wyeth taps their shoulder. “She’s being polite, Gwyth.”

“Oh. Please continue then, Ambassador.”

She blinks several times, mouth open, then re-affixes her pleasant smile, quill poised above the parchment. “Then let us start.” She looks at Gwythren expectantly.

Gwythren folds their hands together on their lap. “I was born in the Markham alienage. At nine, my magic manifested, and I was taken to the Markham Circle. At seventeen, I underwent the Rite of Tranquility as punishment for an escape attempt. When the war came, the tower was destroyed by Markham’s citizens after our Templars left. Knight-Lieutenant Wyeth brought those of us remaining to the Ansburg Circle for safety.”

Ambassador Montilyet nods, making notes. “Concise. May I ask about this… escape attempt?”

“I used alchemical elements to create a detonation device. I miscalculated the portions, and it caused significant damage to the tower and injured several Templars.”

“Ah.” Her quill scratched against the parchment. “And what about your family?”

“I do not see why that matters. My parents were city elves, and I have not been in contact with them for nearly twenty years.”

Ambassador Montilyet’s smile turns a bit unsure. “Well, thank you, Master Gwythren. Knight-Lieutenant?”

“Even less to tell, I’m afraid. I was an orphan taken in by the Chantry as an infant; at fourteen, they gave me to the Order. I served first at the Ostwick Circle and was later transferred to Ansburg.”

She scribbled this information down. “And may I ask about the details of this transfer?”

“Insubordination.”

“Oh?”

“I didn’t care for some of the… protocol regarding the handling of our charges.”

“Protocol?”

“Harrowings. Removing children from the mothers’ care. The Right of Tranquility. The limitations of education. That sort of thing.”

She nodded, thoughtful and solemn. “I see. It was good you understood the spirit of your duties.”

“Duties?”

“To protect mages.”

The Knight-Lieutenant made a derisive sound. “The ‘duty’ of Templars is not to protect mages, as the Chantry likes to claim. It is to keep mages contained and obedient. The Chantry knew perfectly well how Circles were run, and they liked it that way.”

An awkward tension settled in the air. Gwythren has heard Knight-Lieutenant Wyeth’s criticisms of the Chantry before, but most people outside of Circle politics are shocked to hear it.

The ambassador finally breaks the silence with a chirpy, “Well!”, continues with, “I am certain your contributions will be invaluable to the Inquisition.”

The Knight-Lieutenant hums. “Was that all you needed, Ambassador?”

“Yes, thank you. I shall let you know if I require anything else.”

“Please do.”

Gwythren nods, rises from the chair, follows Knight-Lieutenant Wyeth from her office.

tagging @mrs-theirin, @gaysolavellan, @midnightprelude, @thegingerjedi

[oopsallmabari]

at some point I want to iron out whatever the details of arya's personal quest would be if she were a companion bc its something she has to deal w regardless but like the general thing is her eldest brother comes to skyhold+she has to come to terms with the fact that despite not speaking with her eldest brother For Years she never stopped idolizing him when She Should Have Stopped Years Ago

like. the idea and concept of family is important to my girl whether it's good for her or not. she was dragged to the circle kicking and screaming bc she was Begging her family to still love her and want her. it would have been easier for her to ignore her family if it was everyone that pushed her away completely, but it didn't work out that way:

exhibit a-malik, the middle child, who was ultimately friendly to arya but generally couldn't completely relate to her, who teased her a lot+played pranks on her as a kid. malik, who messed with her until a prank gone wrong set off her magic and then she was whisked away. who then out of guilt and a desire to forget ignored her letters for years, only reaching out until after her harrowing, when he ended up being one of the few things that kept her alive. malik, who despite everything, in defiance of his father, welcomed arya home with open arms after ostwick's circle went up in smoke.

exhibit b-eric, eldest brother several years her senior, already a templar by the time her magic manifested, who wrote to her (and visited, even!) from when he first left for ostwick circle. a brother who she looked up to so much that the family joke/expectation was that some day the trevelyans would control ostwick's circle, with arya as eric's second-in-command. Eric, who despite being a templar, despite getting transferred to Markham just as soon as arya got to the circle, wrote to her for 4 more years until he abruptly stopped. Eric, who eventually holds tight to the ideals of a mage-fearing chantry, who gives up his position after the Circles fall and goes into hiding as the world he knows turns upside down. Eric, who realizes none other than his kid sister leads an army of the faithful and ventures to skyhold with the idea that if he can get through to her, to the kid he once knew, he can get things back to normal.

[johaerys-writes]

Chapter 14: Cobwebs and Oathstones

Fandom: Dragon Age

Pairing: Aran Trevelyan/Tristan Trevelyan

Summary:

Aran and Tristan are childhood friends. Best friends. Brothers, almost. They’ve been inseparable since the moment they met, one rainy autumn day underneath the maple tree in the school playground.

Best friends don’t fall in love with each other. Surely not.

The new chapter of my and @oftachancer​’s collaborative fic, featuring her OC Aran and my OC Tristan is up! Where the Terrible T’s venture into the ancient catacombs underneath the Trevelyan manor, and discover something... unexpected 👀

Read more on AO3,  or start from the beginning :)

****

“Oh, wow!” Tilly exclaimed, turning her head to look around the catacombs like a curious bird. “This place is huge!”

“It is!” Aran replied. “There’s loads of stuff down here. Last time, Tris and I found this massive set of armour that belonged to a great uncle of yours- was it Trevor Trevelyan?”

“Trenton Trevelyan the Third,” Tristan grumbled, illuminating the corridor before them with the torch.

“Aye, that’s the one! He had this huge sword, too, right, absolutely massive. Tris said he could wield it one handed, but Void knows how he did it because that thing was- Ah! What- Is that a spider?!” Aran spun in a circle, scrubbing his fingers through his hair. “Fuck, fuck, fuck- get it off, get it off!” Tilly gasped and ran to his side, patting down his hair and his back, while Aran’s cries echoed deafeningly down the corridor.

Tristan sighed, wondering whether people would notice it if he locked them both in the catacombs and then fled.

“I don’t see a spider, munchkin,” Tilly said worriedly, biting her lip as she searched through Aran’s hair. “Maybe it was just your imagination.”

“I hate them. I hate them.” Aran twisted to look back over his shoulder, aiming his light at himself. “So many feckin’ legs,” he shivered, tugging his hood up over his head and cinching it tight. He looked to Tristan, biting his lip, fingers flexing in that way they did at school or at parties right before he suggested they find somewhere to go that wasn’t people. Right before he reached for him and tucked his palm against Tristan’s and gave that quiet sigh that was the first of many as hand holding progressed to other things… Aran held his gaze in the dark and shoved his hands and his torch into the pouch of his sweatshirt. “It was a big sword,” he finished lamely.

Tristan swallowed thickly, looking away. He didn't like that he couldn't hold his hand, or kiss him. He didn't like hiding what they had from Tilly, of all people. But it was still so early. Tristan hadn't fully understood what was happening between them himself, and if he told Tilly, she would have questions. He wouldn't last a moment under her scrutiny. And she might tell Mother, or someone else and then...

"Right," he said abruptly, marching ahead. "The room is not too far from here. We can go there first and check the sword after we're done." He would think about it all later. Now was not the time.

"Oh, yes, we should!" Tilly said excitedly. "Swords are so fun. Remember when we went to the Ostwick History Museum with school, three years ago? All those sets of armour! All those swords! Those lances! They were so shiny. And I loved the engravings. Some of them were absolutely beautiful- they don't make them like that anymore. Well, they don't make them at all anymore, which is a pity if you ask me. Oh! Wouldn't it be fun if we had armour and swords made for the three of us? I bet we would all look smashing. The Terrible T's: Fourth Blight edition." She threaded her arm through Aran's, grinning.

“So long as it’s without the actual Blight.” Aran leaned into her, eyeing the webs they passed under with suspicion. “You should see the armor we found down here, too! When we found it, Tris said he’d wear it. You’re pretty tall. Might suit you better.”

“It looked heavy," Tristan said. “Even if both of you got in it, I don’t think you’d be able to lift it.”

“So you’d be able to lift it and the both of us wouldn’t?” Tilly sniffed. “Someone has a big idea of themselves.”

“No,” Tristan rolled his eyes, “I just call things how I see them.” He quickened his step, walking well ahead of them. The sooner they reached the blighted room, the sooner they’d leave. He hoped. “We’re close. Aran, is your torch working?”

“Hm?” Aran was walking with his chin perched on Tilly’s shoulder, his arms wrapped around her. “No hands. Don’t know.”

Tilly laughed, reaching into Aran’s sweatshirt pouch. “Here. I’ve got it.” She switched it on, illuminating the corridor before them. “You know, I learnt a spell last year that gives you light without using a torch. Some mages use it with a wand or a staff, but I can cast it without one! Although Mistress Anaan said it’s dangerous and that she would punish anyone who tried it. Oh, I wish I could show you! If only we were allowed to use magic outside the Circle. Think we’re deep enough into the earth now to not be detected? I’ve heard that when mages go into the Deep Roads, the magic detectors can’t sense them at all, so they can cast as many spells as they like. Regina, the new transfer from the Lake Callenhad Circle, was telling us that many mages from their Circle were sent to the Deep Roads in Orzammar to test out new spells that they didn’t want the government to know about. It was all very hush-hush, you understand. That is if she was telling the truth, which I’m not entirely sure she was. She told Gianna that Bastien asked her out, and Gianna told me, because she knows I know Bastien, and we sit next to each other in my Arcane magic class. So I asked Bastien-"

"Don't forget to breathe, Til," Tristan said teasingly.

"Oh, shush, you," his sister laughed. "Anyway- where was I?"

"What did Bastien say?" Aran asked, blinking up at her.

"Oh, yes! So. Bastien said he only texted her once, and that was to ask her to bring him back a pouch of crystal grace powder that he had lent her. So I’m not really sure what to make of her. Maybe she lies about some things, but not others." She tapped her chin with her finger, then made a vague gesture in the air, shaking her head. "Anyway. Top secret expeditions into the Deep Roads sound very, very interesting, if you ask me. I do hope they’re true. I do hope they send me there someday! I want to do all the research. All the spells! I might even come up with one that sends all the spiders running. I bet there’s loads of them in the Deep Roads. Then I’ll show you how to do it, Aran! Oh.” She paused, frowning. “It’s a pity you’re not a mage. We would have had so much fun together in the Circle. But that’s alright! When I go to the Deep Roads, I’ll take you with me. And I’ll keep you safe from all the spiders,” she grinned, pinching his chin.

“If you come up with a spell that scares spiders of all shapes and sizes, they’ll give you an award and a duchy,” Aran beamed at her. “I will. I’ll found a feckin’ kingdom and hand you the keys to it.” He nudged her with his shoulder, “Anyway, Miri’s there if you want a dose. She’s fun.”

"Oh, yes! Miranda's lovely. I see her from time to time, but she's usually busy. She's working really hard on her apprenticeship. Her blue robes suit her very nicely. I can't wait to get started on my own. Mistress Anaan said I might be able to start early if I pass all my exams with good marks next year. I'm thinking Arcane or Primal. Everyone says they're tough, but I think they're both fascinating. Oh! Is this the room?" She cast the light of her torch on the door that Tristan had stopped before.

Tristan took a hesitant step forward, let his gaze glide over the engravings on the door's surface. "Yes. That's the one."

"Oooh." Tilly's eyes widened. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's get in!"

Tristan reached for the doorknob, his heart thrumming in his chest. The door protested loudly as he pushed it open, raising a cloud of dust in its wake. "Okay," he said, standing aside. "On you go. Search to your heart's content."

“You’re really not coming in?” Aran asked quietly.

Tristan let out a slow exhale through his nose. "I am. In- in a minute." He watched as Tilly walked forward, swinging the light of the torch in a wide arc around the room, before stopping at the large stone in its center.

"Oh, my. Sweet Maker! Is that the stone? The oath stone? Quick, Aran, get your notebook out! I need to get a good look at those runes. We should take all of them down- but first, we must figure out what they mean. Some runes activate as soon as they're written in order. Wouldn't want to set something on fire before we've had a chance to study them. Although that would be fascinating in its own right. Do we have any water in case that happens…? Oh, well, we'll just need to be careful."

Tristan sighed, flexing and curling his hands at his sides. "I don't like this. I don't like it one bit. I told you we shouldn't have come down here."

“It’s okay,” Aran met his eyes. He shifted his backpack to his side and brushed his fingers down Tristan’s forearm behind the bulk of it. “We won’t do anything to start it up again. Just figure out what it actually is. You’ll feel better knowing, aye?”

"I don't know," Tristan mumbled, the knot in his stomach tightening. He caught Aran's pinky with his own, squeezing lightly. "Some things are better left on their own."

“But you don’t know what those do until you see what they are, eh? What if-“ Aran lifted his brows, squeezing back. “What if your great-grandad had to do something on this thing to be able to wear that armor or heft that sword? Even if you never want to do it, wouldn’t it be cool to know?”

Tristan nodded reluctantly, worrying his lip. "Okay," he said quietly. "Okay. Let's- let's just get this over with. This place is very… dusty." He scrunched his nose, looking away.

“Aye, it is. Just some notes. And then movies.” His eyes gleamed in the torchlight, the yellow making his soft blue eyes like a summer sky filled with sun. “If you want.”

Tristan swallowed thickly. Aran’s gaze on him and his fingers that threaded discreetly through his sent a rush of warmth through him. “I do,” he whispered. “You know I do. I-”

“Aran! Tris! Come, come over here! I think I know what most of these runes mean. There’s so many of them, oh, dear. Our ancestors worked really hard on this thing. Or whoever made it for them, anyway. I haven’t seen one quite like this before. And you said there was a sword, too? And a book?”

“Yes,” Tristan said, untangling his fingers from Aran’s, “there’s a sword. But I’m not touching it. And neither are you,” he glanced sharply at Aran.

“I brought gloves,” Aran smiled hopefully.

Tristan huffed and walked away from him, coming to stand over Tilly. “Right. What did you find?”

Read more on AO3!

[pinayelf-archive]

Can I just say that I love your OCs very very much? Immy and Amihan (who i guess I know more about than any others) are so wonderful! Could you spare some headcanons for one of/both of them? 😍😍

omg thank you sm 🥺❤️

even tho amihan and immy are very different personality-wise I think they both are very similar in what they want and what they need

they're both neurodivergent (adhd) women who feel DEEPLY and WHOLLY. they both unconditional love and they're both very capable of giving it. they also want someone who's physically protective lol. they can take care of themselves but that's something they find attractive in a partner (all of immy's LIs were and are warriors lmao 💀)

the difference is immy was raised in an environment where her feelings were validated and where she was shown unconditional love by the people closest to her and she had a community. it was safe for immy to be more or less ~soft.

amihan did not - for all those years in the Circle she had one singular friend, finn aldebrandt, and it wasn't until the broken circle where finn tells her that he loves her (platonic) because the environment they grew up in discouraged openness and vulnerability. after all anyone could be transferred, made tranquil or whatever else.

I think if amihan was raised in a healthier environment though, she'd still be grouchy sometimes and a fuddy duddy lol, but not to the extent in canon where her years or repression made her emotionally volatile

for respective headcanons:

immy

her magic manifested when she was six. it was a cold night and she went and snuggled up to her papae and he realized she was using warming magic

while immy grew up in a healthy environment, she did feel like the only thing she had to contribute to her clan was arcane knowledge. she's not particularly brave or ~strong. so she put all her worth into being first to keeper and when she was put into the situation of being the herald/inquisitor it was HARD

immy loves animals! she has a cat named andruil and a nug named pudgy during DAI

immy has a photographic memory

immy is 100% that person who loses motivation if she isn't immediately good at a new thing she tries lol

immy is overwhelmed easily - especially by crowds. josie started doing judgments without crowds cause immy hated being in front of people like that

immy feels emotions deeply. she always ends up crying after a battle, even if they won. it's her way of catharsis

immy is tone deaf lmao

amihan

amihan's magic manifested when she was 4 alongside her twin sister violetta. her mother, revka was deeply andrastian and she called the templars on both of them

amihan and Violetta were separated. amihan ended up in Kinloch and Violetta ended up in ostwick

revka told their father and the family that both girls died on the way to the Circles so no one would try to keep contact with them

amihan's main element is lightning - it matches the intensity of her emotions. she can also redirect lightning (like in AtLA/LoK)

amihan doesn't do blood magic unless she's in a stable headspace - she knows how she can be, and she doesn't want to risk it

amihan takes to painting and sketching. she discovered it when she traveled with zevran after the Blight

amihan is terrified of dogs, alistair got the mabari. she instead gets a cat named cheese during awakening

amihan loves sunshine, she rarely ever got to feel it in the Circle and it became her favorite thing in the outside world