#andraste cousland

[nvaderxim]

Just exploring what Edric and Armand could look like during DA:V (DA:TV???) events.

[acgamesda]

Facial changes of my Dragon Age canon protags + My future Rook, as I originally had her as my DAI OC. Made these as references but might as well share them.

Also I have no idea how my Adaars' horns work... Don't ask. It's weird shape in game too

[acgames]

Art pieces for my Dragon Age protagonists.

Yes I know you have seen them multiple times on my different blogs, yes I know you tired of seeing them, but I am still very proud of these and I love my boys.

So Deal. With. It.

[haveyouseenmyhonor]

so much discourse over the 'dawn will come' scene

Regardless of intent to be a symbol, you have become one. You have become an item to which the people will look to. Religiously, systematically, even just hypothetically.

There is a damn hole in the sky with demons spewing forth every other minute - how are you supposed to raise an army? How are you supposed to keep the few military trained from abandoning? How are you meant to keep peace anywhere, let alone create a resistance to stop Gods and God Like Destruction?

Skipping it would be like skipping Ostagar. Many die in both and a new stage is created, one where the player has to take a mantel and play the part.

[vigilskeep]

It does not matter in the grand scheme of lineages and succession drama but. It is important to me that people know about the Soldier and the Seawolf song. You probably know already. But just in case. Top tier Cousland lore.

it means everything to me

[themournwatcher]

WHY THE HELL WOULD WYNNE SAY THAT ABOUT ALISTAIR PLEASE LEAVE HIM ALONE. GOOD GOD THE DOG ALLEGORY IS GETTING LESS FUNNY

[thistle-spores]

I hate that Faren has grown on me like mold. He's the closest thing I have to a canon Warden and he fucking sucks lol Yet he fascinates me...

[bumblewarden]

Happy Playing With Numbers Anniversary

Unsurprisingly, most of the Archive of Our Own data is about the same as last year's, but i was honor-bound to gather it anyway. I also looked up some basic metrics for Inquisitors that may aid me for deciding what to collect next year as well as data from the Favorite Player Background poll i ran when i first gained access to Tumblr polls. I will not be posting the pie graphs for most of the Origins as they are almost identical to last year's, but i did add a few new ones from this year's data collection at the end.

Some thoughts on the disparity between AO3 popularity and Tumblr popularity:

While there is considerable overlap, AO3 and Tumblr do not serve the exact same portion of the fandom, and even though it broke containment, the poll still represents only a part of the Tumblr-side fandom. This blog which made the poll (hi) festers about in a very elfy part of the fandom and bills itself as "The Warden Tabris Agenda". It shouldn't be too suprising that elves, especially the City Elf Origin, are more highly represented here.

The poll offers a single vote per Tumblr user, but on AO3, authors have the ability to post as much as they want about their favorite as well as their second-favorite, third-favorite, etc. And we've all seen those fics who have a character tagged who never appears.

The Tumblr poll ran for a week, but the data from the Archive is accumulative over the lifespan of the fandom. The earliest currently available fic on AO3 tagged with any individual Warden is an f!Cousland one-shot dated to November 17, 2009, two weeks after the game's initial launch.

The Orlesian Warden-Commander is the only one who receives the same percentages of fics/votes between the two popularity calculation methods.

And some other miscellaneous thoughts:

There were 15855 Warden fics tagged by Origin vs 28237 Inquisitor fics tagged by Origin. This is going to give the Inquisitor significantly more weight in the combined PC race distribution.

The data from the Inquisitors finally gives us not just an elf in first place but an elf with a majority of the fics. 46% of Lavellan fics are tagged with Lavellan/Solas, which is likely a factor. The Solavellans came in with the steel chair.

With the Inquisition data, dwarves continue their tradition of least popular (my apologies to the dwarf likers), but by the power of being the only one standing, Cadash in finally giving us a dwarf in quadruple digits.

Andras is the only Origin whose total number of fics has gone down between years. This is possibly due to many of the non-DA fics tagged with this character being removed or retagged as it was only their Unspecified/Other category which shrank. I didn't collect this data last year while it still would have been available, but it seemed a considerable percentage of non-gender tagged fic for Andras was an oc from outside Dragon Age.

Of all Origins' percentages of total fics, only Cousland went down between 2022 and 2023

There may be some correlation between the previous bullet and the elf sweep from the Tumblr poll as well as Lavellan surpassing Trevelyan in AO3 fics by volume. Relative popularity of humans is something to keep an eye on.

Now for the charts!! (Unless otherwise stated, assume the below information is reflective of the AO3 survey.)

[yshtal]

brosca is the only one who will ever see Duncan as a savior, at the end of the war.

you’re a human noble. you’re a proud, happy member of house cousland. when howe betrays your family and you’re there, terrified, in the cellar with the shattered remains of your dying family, it’s you and your mother against the world. your mother: the pain-in-the-ass, hardheaded, spitfire of a woman that sassed you yesterday about manners is beside you, her eyes haggard and haunted. “He’s my husband,” she says, begging, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “He’s your father, and he’s dying, and I love him. Whatever he faces next, he faces it with me.”

She cannot be argued with. She cannot be reasoned with. You can beg and beg and beg your mama to come with you, to survive beside you, but the outcome will always be the same. Duncan will ask you to leave, and she will choose to stay. How can you live with that?

(It’s poetic justice, perhaps, how quickly you come to understand it.)

—-

You are a dwarven princess, beloved of the house aeducan, noble of caste and certain of birthright, when your brother betrays you.

Not the brother you expected to betray you, of course. Your bosom friend, your sovereign sibling. The one who would’ve had your back eternally, if the wide expanse of the throne hadn’t stood in the way. If only love could’ve bridged the chasm. the warden bridges what Trian could not, what Bhelen would not - a last-minute pardon, excusing you from a game you never knew you were playing.

(you had a birthright, certainly, and it was taken from you. all else you cling to is stolen valor now.

checkmate.)

—-

You are the young bride tabris, and your husband stands there bleeding.

Your cousin has already been stolen away, and it hurts, how innocent she was, when so much of you had been stolen away. You would’ve stood in her place a thousand times, and all the evil, lecherous, unspeakably human hands in the world wouldn’t have stopped you, if it meant shielding Shianni. Your husband, bright-eyed and already dying, even if he knows it not, comes to save you. He does not know you, but he saves you from horrors that you have braced against a thousand times before, before he knew you, even if it does not matter. he is noble, in that way.

Duncan is noble too. He offers you a way out - a way out from your family, from your friends, from the only world you have ever - could ever - know. he offers you a chance to die on the battlefield instead of dying in the cellar, before you would ever know this suffering, the suffering laid on you at birth, by mere sin of being elven.

(To die without knowing. Isn’t that worse?)

—-

You are mahariel, free to the wind, to the rain, to the very corruption of nature.

shemlen in the forest was an ill enough omen. to come with grave warnings of burial grounds and curses and demons? you should have fixed your young dalish curses on them, da’len, on what they wrought, and you should’ve turned and fled

you did not, and, by your side, he did not. in another world, you would have lived by his side. in this one, you watch him die again and again.

(it is in your nature, after all, the watching over of dying things.)

—-

You are a mage, human or elven, and it makes little difference.

the maker hates you regardless, or so the templars say. You are good, perhaps, and you turn them in, or else you are kind. It matters little to Andraste, if she’s the one listening, or to anyone else.

Duncan speaks. He offers you refuge, outside of the Circle, far from home. You’ve never seen sunlight unobstructed before, let alone war. You have to choose - Tranquility, or a noble death, somewhere down the road.

(it isn’t a choice, not really. it was made for you before you were even born.)

—-

but you, grey warden, you are something special.

He offers you a worthy death, somewhere in that nebulous future, and you don’t have to worry about how it comes anymore. You know where death will take you - on the doorstep of one darkspawn or another, not here, gasping, in the dirt.

Your sister says this life is worth it.

And it is, isn’t it, for yourself, for your family, for the few lonely friends that you leave behind? for finally, desperately, clawing your w ay out of poverty, even when it costs you everything? for rica to be safe?

(It will be worth it.

It must be worth it.)

[acgamesda]

My canon worldstate protagonists (so far one day my Rook will join the showcase)

Hero of Ferelden: Gerard Cousland

Sword/shield warrior, Human Noble, Romanced Morrigan.

Sided with Circle Mages

Brokered peace between Dalish and Werewolves

Bhelen is king of Orzammar, Anvil destroyed.

Anora and Alistair rule joinedly, Loghain survived.

Performed Dark Ritual with Morrigan

Champion of Kirkwall: Arioniel Hawke

Rogue Archer, Assassin spec, romanced Merrill.

Diplomatic personality

Bethany survived, but was taken to Circle

Arishok killed.

Sided with mages

Spared Anders, but shunned him away.

Herald of Andraste: Tallah Adaar

Two handed warrior, Reaver, romanced Cassandra

Allied with mages.

Loghain left in Fade.

Pardoned Wardens

Celene rules (with Briala)

Morrigan drank from the Well of Sorrows.

[acgames]

I've been bombarded with Dragon Age posts since the 4th game is arriving soon and that has kinda reactivated my interest in the franchise, + I remember you making some posts about it in the past so... OC lore? Pretty please?

Well I am glad I am not the only one who had my love for Dragon Age revived.

But yeah, I am huge fan of the series and own/have played all three previous titles as well as have my own worldstate I absolutely love and wish to keep adding upon with the fourth game... Eventually.

I have three main protagonist OCs for each of the main games: my Hero of Ferelden from DA:Origins, my Hawke from DA2 and my Inquisitor from DA:Inquisition.

Gerard Cousland is my Warden and youngest son of noble house Cousland. Despite being from very influential and rich family, he is very free spirit and prefers to do things his own way than to follow social norms, which puts him in pretty problematic relationship wih his own mother, who is very strict and wants for Gerard to marry and start family life, which Gerard greatly resents.

Personality wise, Gerard has short temper, sharp tongue and a streak of mean sarcasm. He prefers to get things done his own way and do not dally in helping others. yeah he starts as bit of a selfish scumbag, but he learns to take responsability over the journey. Still he means well, just complains alot...

In a twisted way of fate, Cousland family gets betrayed and massacred with Gerard being the only survivor (his brother survived too but it is only discovered later), pretty much dragged against his own will. Gerard's survival came with a price tho, so he became Grey Warden: pretty much poisioned himself to help save the world and dedicated his now greatly shortened life to stop the Fifth Blight (yet still almost entirely against his free will). Still despite being tasked to save the world and rally an army with his trusted bunch of weirdo friends, Gerard is obsessed with idea of revenge, which he comes to learn won't fix things anyways...

Still in the end Gerard and his bunch of friends/comrades succeeded in stopping the Blight, Gerard ended up leader of Fereldan Grey Wardens and kept leading them since then.

Gerard did end up in unlikely relationship with Morrigan, witch of the wilds, but two of them actually had more in common than differences: both prefered individual freedom of making their own choices as well as not feeling like their relationship made them both feel "tied down". Still two have stuck up together for more than a decade at this point and even have son together, Kieran.

Gerard had "dropped by" Halamshiral to have a meeting with Morrigan while being away on his search for the cure of the taint. In other words I modded Inquisition to let me have two of them together... Yes I have priorities...

Arioniel (or Arion) Hawke is my well... Hawke and protagonist of Dragon Age 2. He is just too pure and too good of a guy to have to go through the plot of DA2, but yet he did.

Arion is oldest brother, who was forced to fill shoes of his late father, and not only become a breadwinner for his mother and siblings, but also provide security and care for them, so he did the best he could, even if it meant Arion had work for some shady people and acquire skills you wouldn't think someone like him could possess.

Personality wise, Arion is altruistic, kind and a softie, but he can be cold and tactical once he needs to defend his loved ones or fight for his goals. His "dark side" is that Arion is professionally trained assassin who had worked for Antivan Crows. Yeah looking at him no one would tell he's actual expert killer, but if pressed Arioniel will be ruthless and efficient in ending someone's life. Yet, he hates himself for this.

Well there's isn't much to say about Arion without reciting plot of DA2, but he is mage rights supporter and has only remaining sibling who is alive: younger mage sister Bethany and even so Arion still lost her to the Circle of Magi, where all mages are locked up. Still despite that and Kirkwall in general being filled with foul things, Arion tried his best to do a positive difference no matter how many times life just beat crap out of him.

Arion ended up in relationship with Merrill, elf apostate and dear friend. I guess two of them had to carry a lot on their shoulders and be responsible for safety and wellbeing of others around them, while also harboring dark powers/skills/secrets (Merrill's a blood mage), both just fell for eachother (also both have really good hearts in them). They canonically have no kids, but I think it's possible they would, because I see both Arion and Merrill and type to want at least one kid.

Tallah Adaar is my Inquisitor and a Qunari warrior. He just ended in wrong place at wrong time, thus becoming an Inqusitor and leader of Inquisition, an organisation revived to bring world stability back.

Tallah is oldest son of two Vashoth, refugee Qunari who escaped the Qun, so Tallah and his younger sister naturally were raised as close to human way of living as was possible to his parents, still that did not help him and his family suffer from violance and racism. Yet, despite the hardships, Tallah managed to make living just as his parents did.

Tallah is easy going and very humorious type. He is a sunshine despite quite scary looks and can act as such. People around him know him as someone who is almost always in good mood (because then he isn't Lord save us all)

Tallah ended up in relationship with Cassandra Pentaghast, who is quite older than him and also a noble human, but both of them don't really acknowledge any racist remarks their couple ever gets. In start Tallah and Cassandra butted heads over their different opinions, but realising how much Inquisition's success matters to Cassandra, Tallah relented, soon starting to see Cassandra in the new light. The light which made him fall for her hard.

(yes Tallah is that tall...)

In the end Tallah as Inquisitor decided to stay working as honor guard to newly appointed Divine, Cassandra joining him in the duties. So two of them are coworkers and actually get married (then you are buddies with a pope and work for her, interracial marriage is minor feat). So far two of them have no kids as there are no canon info if their races even can have biracial kids or not. If it's not possible I probs imagine they adopted in the future...

Hopefully I did not ramble too much. I also assumed you know the plots of all the games so I did not go into detail about that or choices my guys picked. If you want some specific answers, feel free to ask. Also I have one more OC: Tallah's younger sister Karaah, but I might make her my future DA4 protag.

[theluckywizard]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love ❤️

Ohhh thank you for asking me 🥰

Fic Author Self Rec!

Tagging @crackinglamb, @monocytogenes, @blarrghe, @melisusthewee and @the-rebel-archivist

I will open with my SUPER RARE PAIR FIC

Love at First Fight

M!Cousland/F!Trevelyan. Rated T. WC 5,962 Summary: 9:25 Dragon. Years before he became the Hero of Ferelden, Aedan Cousland competes in the Tantervale Grand Tourney melee final against a surprising opponent: fierce, sharp-witted, and unmistakably talented Marie Trevelyan of Ostwick. And he can’t help but feel a little bit smitten when she clobbers him. Lucky for him, there's a banquet afterward.

This is an OC exchange fic I wrote for Windwalker57. Aedan Cousland and Marie Trevelyan are both his OCs! It's a charming tidbit of backstory that I had a blast expanding on. It's full of flirting and banter and tournament fighting (and tavern brawling) that I researched to death. Guest appearances by Nathaniel Howe and Thom Rainier!

Rumors

M!Hawke/F!Trevelyan. Rated T. WC 2,189

Summary: Returned to Skyhold from Crestwood, Hawke's been dogged the whole way back by rumors about the nature of his relationship with Inquisitor Rose Trevelyan. His old friend Leliana wants to know what his game is.

This is a companion fic to my longfic In the Shattering of Things, but it's one I'm super proud of. It's a delicious peek into the larger I've created, into the POV of my charming, romantic, silly Garrett Hawke who's fallen for my Inquisitor Rose Trevelyan. I loved capturing the dynamic between him and Leliana with all the history between them and this moment where he needs to decide if he's going to settle for the way things are or tell Rose how he feels. It's a favorite of mine!

Unvarnished

Blackwall/F!Trevelyan, Rated E. WC 3,648

Summary: The Herald of Andraste disappears up to the lake for a swim on the hottest day of spring in the Hinterlands. Blackwall supposes he'd better make sure she isn't prey to bandits or demons and finds himself searching the lake for her in a panic.

Clinging undergarments and more proximity than they've ever had sparks an unexpected blaze between them and unleashes parts of Blackwall he thought he'd long buried...

I wrote this fic on a whim when a friend of mine told me there was a shortage of Inquisitor/Blackwall fics 😅 I was not expecting to enjoy writing in Blackwall's POV as much as I did but BOY HOWDY. I did. If you're a Blackwall appreciator, I would humbly recommend it!

Some Kind of Witchcraft

Cullen/F!Trevelyan, Rated E. WC 2,214

Summary: Inquisitor Rose Trevelyan is away clearing rifts along Sulcher's pass but she leaves plenty of reminders behind for Cullen to find while she's gone... and after she returns!

OK, I can't not include some Cullen stuff. This piece is just darling. It captures the really playful dynamic between Cullen and Rose, and honestly playful banter and joyful smut is my bread and butter.

annnnd laaastly my long fic! It's still a WIP, but updated regularly.

In the Shattering of Things

F!Trevelyan/Cullen, F!Trevelyan/M!Hawke, Rated E, WC 417,309

Summary: Lady Rose Trevelyan's idle, aristocratic life blinks out in a haze of irrelevance when the breach destroys the Conclave. She may be soft and coddled when she joins the Inquisition, but there's a fierceness inside her she's yet to fully recognize. Armed with only a few relevant skills and the mark that makes her a legend, she is thrust onto a path delivering hope where it’s long been scorched away and finds comfort in the grumpy, handsome stick in the mud charged with her protection and training. As she stumbles her way across southern Thedas, she begins to realize she's tangled at the center of machinations she barely understands, and she's not alone in that. Enter Hawke.

OK. This has devoured my brain for a year and a half now and I am *still* trucking. hmmm what can I say about it? It's really my exploration of what it's like to find yourself and try to love others when the world is falling apart at the seams-- and it's up to you to hold it all together. It's messy. People behave suboptimally. Love sprouts in unexpected places. My protags: ROSE. MY CHILD. Importantly she's a 'rogue' Inquisitor (she'd lol at the idea that she's a rogue though). She's funny, plucky, doing her best. I think she's extremely relatable. She screws up. She's got a fight instinct that far outstrips her combat capabilities. Her victories are hard earned and often costly. But I think she's a character that my readers love to root for. CULLEN (well. everyone knows Cullen). I just love this man. I write him as a man who was recruited to do one job and then whoopsed his way into a much bigger one and he is OWNING it. But I adore Rose and Cullen both rising to the occasion together. And I love writing him learning how to want things for himself.

HAWKE. My goofy king. He barrels into Skyhold like a wrecking ball. An affable, devilishly charming, romantic one who is eager to help fix the chaos he unwittingly unleashed. He's got such a big brother personality and he's a wonderful mentor and companion for Rose who is really just figuring shit out. Heart of gold with an ocean of pain underneath.

ok and a BONUS one that is unpublished, but I will link my tag for it since there are tons of snippets of it. It's my WIP.

Kiss Me Moonstruck

I'm about 35k deep right now, but it's a matchmaking fic set during Satinalia in DA:2, Act 2 where Leandra Hawke and Alsatia Trevelyan conspire to fix up their children Garrett and Rose who emphatically do not want to be fixed up. It's a romantic comedy romp and I am super proud of it. It's a great fish out of water examination of Kirkwall through Rose (it's in both her POV and Garrett's) and is packed with class commentary. I can't wait to publish it!

[vigilskeep]

one of my absolute favourite tiny details is cousland’s nan insisting the warden start the telling of a childhood story, and instead of, i don’t know, “once upon a time”, cousland’s cultural go-to is before our fathers’ fathers came down from the moutains. cousland has chantry tutors but at their nanny’s knee it was alamarri folk tales, not andraste and the wyvern. i think that’s so interesting and it’s one of the jumping-off points for my take that highever let andrastianism colour its culture and traditions more so than change them, in contrast to a centre of pilgrimage and of royalty like denerim, which is more closely interlinked with, and perceived by, andrastians outside ferelden’s borders. cousland to me is always saying some slightly off brand stuff they don’t realise is weird (read: heresy) while alistair and wynne raise eyebrows at each other

[themournwatcher]

liveblogging my origins playthrough because why not. shoutout to naoise saying "see there? that's a trap" before promptly walking into it and triggering it. best rogue ever

[serensama]

In Sacrifice, Glory : Chapter 3

Read on Ao3

Thank you darling @illneverrecover and @femme-moon <3

The Herald was stable, already asleep by the time Solas had started to check her over. He made quick work of the wounds on her head and helped clean off her skin as Adan carefully slipped a draught down Elissa’s throat to ensure she continued to sleep through the night. Solas had looked to the Spymaster with questions apparent on his face, but had enough sense to remain silent. He was wordlessly dismissed after Inquisition scouts arrived to move the unconscious woman back to her cabin. 

Leliana quietly thanked Andraste that only the change of guards bore witness to the ordeal as they knew better than to spread that sort of gossip around camp. Picking up a wineskin she took a long swig and although she winced at the strength of it, she was grateful for the harsh warmth it pushed through her limbs. The chantry sister closed her eyes to walk through the steps that led them there. She looked like Elissa. Sounded like Elissa. Had memories only she would have... was that enough to say to the world that the Hero of Ferelden was reborn? She took another mouthful of the tart liquid before throwing the skin on her table, mussing up her scrolls as it landed with a dull thud. 

A scroll rolled over to her foot and she was about to kick it to the back of her tent when she noticed it was the not one either she or her scouts had written on. Leliana bent over to pick it up and inspected it, her eyes widening in disbelief. She rushed back over to her table and held the paper to the light to ensure she wasn’t imagining things or just seeing what she wanted to. 

Written in neat, flowing script across the top of the page: ‘Notes from Sister Leliana’. 

Her mind drifted back to when Elissa had offered to scribe for her, the writing on the parchment was undoubtedly hers. She could recognise it anywhere. Elissa would often give her bits of paper or parchment that she had written on when she returned to camp. Leliana had loved that Elissa would jot down bits and pieces of their travels in order to remind her of something that happened whilst away on a quest, or something that one of their comrades had said to her that she thought was funny or somehow important to their journey. She fought back a grin at the memory of Elissa insisting that the recipe for Sten’s favourite type of cookie had to be recorded in the annals of their history. 

Writing however, could be forged. She knew this better than anyone, Maker’s breath, she was excellent at doing it herself. Yet, she forced herself to recall the tiniest details of their night and she could easily see that Elissa had used her right hand to write, and the Elissa she had known was definitely right handed- and so are most people, including forgers. But it was not the writing, nor the fact that she wrote with her right hand that confirmed the Sister’s belief; it was a small sketch in the upper right corner of the page. Small and inoffensive, no one would notice, but she did. 

A perfectly drawn laurel wreath. 

The Cousland heraldry. 

Elissa’s family crest, emblazoned upon the vellum. 

It was insignificant, she could hear the others telling her she was clutching at straws at best, but to Sister Leliana, Spymaster of the Inquisition, she understood that even the slightest thing could make all the difference in the grand scheme of things. She neatly folded the document and tucked it securely away inside of her glove as she called in one of the guards near the Chantry. 

“Wake up Seeker Cassandra and Commander Cullen, advise them that I am calling a meeting in the Chantry at once,” Leliana instructed as she made her way there. She stopped quickly outside of the Ambassador’s door and rapped twice with the back of her hand. “Come in,” Josephine called out immediately, obviously burning the midnight oil like her. 

“No Josie, I’ve called a meeting. Please come into the map room, Cullen and Cassandra should not be long,” she replied about to step away from the door before she heard a ruffle clothes and a soft crash. The door opened with an alarmed, slightly winded Antivan staring back at her. “Are we being attacked?” she asked, voice low and calm despite her obvious unease. 

Leliana smiled and shook her head as she watched her friend’s shoulders quickly fall back down in relief. “No we are not being attacked, at least, not physically- I’ve no doubt that Chancellor Roderick is still on his holy crusade to ruin us.” 

Josephine made a noise of agreement whilst deftly picking up her writing board as she followed Leliana further into the Chantry hall. The two had barely gotten themselves comfortable before Cullen had walked in shrugging on his surcoat with Cassandra behind him strapping on her sword, both at the ready for a battle if required. 

“Leliana, is all well?” Cassandra asked as she and Cullen looked down at the map expectantly, searching to see if the Spymaster had updated the terrain to pinpoint where the attack would be coming from. 

“My apologies Cassandra, Commander- this meeting is not because we need to brace for an assault.” “Then why the emergency meeting in the middle of the night?” Cullen quipped trying his best to rein in his irritation. 

“The Herald has had an episode-” A barrage of questions erupted from the three advisors; was she okay, was the Breach still stable, did she hurt anyone, was she still in camp? Leliana raised her hands to quiet the room before continuing. 

“The Herald has had an episode. She had managed to remember something from her past but doing so caused her great pain. So much so that she fainted from the experience.” Leliana walked the length of the table, taking the time to consider her next words carefully. “The reason I called you all for this, was because her memory helped to confirm something I have believed since she first woke up. The woman who survived the Conclave and has assisted us thus far, is Elissa Cousland- the Hero of Ferelden.” 

The entire room fell silent as they allowed her statement to sink in. Leliana’s eyes darted between them all, their expressions ranging from amused, bemused to incredulous.  It was Josephine who bravely broke the tension by clearing her throat. 

“You... Leliana... do you mean to say she resembles the Hero of Ferelden?” she offered, hoping to clarify her previous statement. “Certainly you do not mean that she herself is the Hero of Ferelden.” 

Leliana stared her down with a determined intensity that had Josephine’s stomach churn uncomfortably.

The advisors exchanged glances with each other, not quite sure how to proceed without offending the woman standing in front of them. Surely she understood how ridiculous what she was claiming sounded to them all. The Hero of Ferelden had died over 10 years ago, forfeiting her life to defeat the archdemon in what was the shortest recorded Blight in history. She worked tirelessly with her companions to stitch the fractured country together so they could band together and fight off a monstrous army. Every child in Ferelden grew up being told of their adventure, and knew the song that their own Spymaster had crafted to tell the world of the great deeds the woman helped to accomplish. There were even statues erected in Denerim and Highever, the Grey Warden’s brother Fergus insisting on the monuments to remind the generations to come of the sacrifice his little sister made for them all. 

Cassandra’s mouth opened and closed like a gaping fish, second guessing herself whenever she thought she had the right combination of words that would not set off the rogue to murder her in her sleep. Cullen knew better to even try and began rifling through the letters from the day before. 

“You all think me mad,” she stated, not at all surprised- disappointed but not surprised. 

“Surely you understand our reaction Sister Leliana,” Cassandra finally responded, arms raised half way beside her imploringly. “You are an intelligent woman and have some of the finest instincts I have known anyone to have- but you cannot expect us to believe what you have just said.” 

Leliana kissed her teeth and nodded her head bitterly. Of course she understood. What she was telling them, it was madness- but it was also the truth. From her looks, the way she walked and held herself, the way she remembered ‘Princess Stabbity’ Alistair’s favourite nickname for her... to just being named Elissa- this was her friend through and through. 

“Perhaps what Lady Cassandra meant was-” Josephine interjected only to be quieted by Leliana pulling out the piece of paper from inside her glove. She accepted it and looked it over, unsure of why it was relevant to their current conversation. “What am I looking at, what is this Leliana?” 

“That,” she replied tapping on the back of the page, “is something Elissa wrote tonight. That is her handwriting.” She stood alongside the Ambassador and pointed at the drawing to the side and waited for her to come to the same conclusion as her, only for Josephine to look up at her completely perplexed. “This drawing here, that’s the Cousland crest. Her family’s emblem!” Cullen rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably as Josephine passed on the letter, angling the page to allow Cassandra to view the parchment beside him. “Are we sure it’s not just a fancy horseshoe?” he suggested, shrugging slightly, unaffected by the withering look Leliana shot at him. Cassandra hummed as she gently took the page from his grasp and inspected it closely. “No Cullen, it is definitely a laurel wreath- but that does not mean it is meant to signify the House of Cousland,” she rebutted, dropping the page on top of the map in between them all. 

Leliana braced herself against the table, her fingers tented upon the firm wood. She took in a  few deep breaths through her mouth before she addressed them again. “She is the same woman who recruited me. The same who died on top of Fort Drakon to end the last Blight- do not interrupt me, Cassandra,” she ground out before giving a warning glare to the Seeker who tutted but otherwise said nothing. “You all do not understand. She was my best friend, I know her better than almost anyone. If I showed this to Teryn Cousland he would recognise his sister’s hand in an instant, if he saw her? Spoke to her? There would be no contestation. The woman who will help us close the Breach is Elissa Cousland.” 

Cassandra waited a moment to ensure she had finished speaking before employing a different tactic to encourage reason to return to their small council. 

“Cullen, you were there during the Blight. It was said that you even met the Hero of Ferelden- you’ve seen and talked to both of these women, tell us your thoughts,” she requested pointedly much to his chagrin. 

“It is not like I knew her as Sister Leliana did-” “No, but you must recall her. Tell us what you remember,” Cassandra urged. And let us be done with this nonsense.

Cullen hated purposely thinking about his time back in Kinloch Hold; he actively did all he could to push those thoughts out of his mind, however he understood the need for him to do it considering the circumstances. He lightly pressed his lips together as he forced himself to the final day of his captivity, back to kneeling on the floor, back to begging the Maker to save him or kill him, anything but surrender to the demons in the tower. Then suddenly, there was a woman peering down at him, eyes wide with concern and words dripping with kindness- no, another demon, she’s a demon- but she wasn’t. The whole group of them, they were real. No illusion, not a fantasy come to life. They were there and they were going to help- She was tall, or perhaps she only seemed tall from his place on the ground. Long dark hair and fair skin both marred with dirt, blood and sweat from cutting her way through the mage tower; sword and shield in either hand as she tried to tell him that she was going to save them all. Him. First Enchanter Irving. The blood mages. All of them. Fool. 

“... Cullen?” 

The Commander of the Inquisition snapped to attention at the sound of his name, registering the sight of Josephine waving a hand in front of his face. He licked his lips and ignored the warmth flooding to his face. 

“Right, sorry,” he apologised to the women in the room. “Though I saw her briefly, I must admit she has a striking resemblance to the Grey Warden-” “So you see it!” Leliana pounced on his admission, the taste of vindication sweet on her tongue. “She is no demon or spirit- Solas has confirmed this all for me. She is human, living, breathing and real-”

“However, Sister Leliana, if my memory is correct and if we are to go by all eye witness accounts, the Hero of Ferelden was not a mage,” Cullen countered, the image of her holding a shield embellished with a laurel wreath flashing in his mind. 

“And she was also dead. It serves to reason some things could change,” she responded straight faced, exasperated that something as miniscule as being a mage could counter everything else she was trying to explain. Someone miraculously comes back to life and they were more concerned that she also had magic within her veins. Daft.  

“You don’t think there is a chance that you are wishing this is more than it is?” Cullen asked, pleading to her to think objectively. “That it could all be just an unbelievable coincidence?” 

Leliana placed her hand on the writ that Cassandra had shown to Roderick two days ago and smiled wistfully at her fellow advisors. 

“The Maker once sent me a dream, shortly before Elissa came to Lothering after the battle of Ostagar. Now he sends me Elissa herself, to help us out of this nightmare. I will not doubt him. Or her.” 

Knowing that they would not take heed of her words as she had hoped, she apologised to them all for taking up their time and bid them a good night. She would find support elsewhere. In Fergus, Zevran and Oghren. 

And Alistair. 

She sat back at her table and readied her quill, she would write to them all and just like ten years ago, it would be Elissa Cousland who would bring them all together. 

--- 

Leliana’s hand had been cramped for close to an hour and her neck burned as she tried to straighten herself. She had lost track of time in her need to write everything she wanted to say, to those she knew would understand the gravity of Elissa’s return. Four letters were completed and ready to be sent out as soon as the pigeons could be spared to make the long treks to Antiva, Highever and Amaranthine- at least that was where Ogrhen had said Alistair was last, perhaps she needed to send another one to the Grey Warden base in Orlais in case there was anyone there taking care of the grounds and communications. Perhaps Alistair would stop off there in his travels, but could she trust that her letter would be unread in the meantime? No, she needed to speak to Varric to confirm if any of his sources had more intel on her old friend’s location, and then send his letter to the closest safe havens he’d previously informed her of; he promised he would always check them whenever he was in each area. 

Leliana bit back a groan at the loud crack from the base of her neck as she moved her head from side to side, staring down at the sealed envelopes with a sense of reinvigorated pride and purpose, they would believe her. They would come. And Elissa would be okay. 

Pocketing the letters before she rose to always keep them on her person, lest prying eyes see them before she was ready; the Spymaster cursed her one track mind as her joints screeched their displeasure at the sudden movement. She promised herself that when she came back to her desk later in the day that she would clean up the mess but first she needed some sleep. She went to blow out the lantern when she noticed an old comb under the array of parchments and maps that decorated her table. Leliana carefully pulled the simple wooden tool and ran her thumb over the modest carvings, smiling to herself at the memories it held. She clicked her tongue at the idea that came to her and she gave herself two seconds to reconsider if what she was doing was right or wrong, before reminding herself that she would not second guess herself again. Throwing the comb in the air and snapping it back up with practised dexterity, she made up her mind and marched to Elissa’s cabin. 

She took note of how many people were already up and working to get the camp ready for the day and acknowledged them all with a nod and the odd greeting as they passed her. Leliana lightly knocked on her door and when a moment passed by with no answer, she opened the door and allowed herself in. She could feel her annoyance at the scouts who attended to her earlier, obviously putting the sleeping woman straight on the bed and placing a blanket over her, taking no care to change her out of a blood stained shirt or even remove her boots. 

She guessed she could not blame them, after all they did not know how fastidious the woman was- she remembered the time that Oghren had thoughtlessly placed his boots on what he thought was his bedroll, only for it to be Elissa’s. She had chewed out their new companion for the better part of their trek back to Denerim, the dwarf complaining that he had somehow managed to find himself a new wife with an even worse disposition than Branka. He had been forced to wash all their dishes for a month for that comment. Leliana had thought it would sour his opinion of their fearless leader, however he did the dishes with a smile and their coarse banter became a source of entertainment to them all. 

She watched her long and even breaths, the draught from earlier clearly doing its job as Elissa continued to sleep deeply. Leliana gently pushed the blanket aside and skilfully rid her of her shoes and placed them neatly beside the bed. As she replaced the blanket, Elissa grumbled something and turned on her side to face the wall, her long braid freed from behind her. Leliana  despaired at the state of her dearest friend’s hair, something she had always loved about her. She spent so many nights at camp brushing out her ebony locks and fixing it up into different braids to keep it clean and away from her face. Would she think it strange if she combed her hair whilst she slept? Would it be an invasion of her privacy? 

Leliana looked over her now lightly snoring friend and sighed. Better to apologise than ask for permission. 

Pulling over a chair to her bedside, she quickly put herself to work untying the leather band and releasing the dark strands from their confinement. She thanked the Maker that most of her hair fell away from the braid easily with only a couple of knots at the base of her neck. The Sister pushed the heavy curtain of hair away to hang over the top of her pillow so she could observe the tangled strands clearly, only to find a scar between her ear and hairline. Leliana took in a quivering breath and bit her down on her lip. She had been there when she acquired that injury, even fetching the water to help Alistair clean the wound. 

There was no convincing her otherwise now, this was her friend reborn; the same Elissa who helped find a single sword in all of Ferelden for a Qunari who was branded a murderer. The one who decided to trust an assassin right after he had tried to murder her. The very woman who fought for mages who were victims of blood magic and possession, risked her life for them even when the rest of the world saw fit to let them die. She was the one who blushed at receiving a rose from the boy she fancied, but didn’t blink twice at the chance to have an orgy at a brothel with a pirate. 

Leliana didn’t know if she was laughing or crying as her fingers and comb worked their way through the last of her locks, finally as smooth and pristine as she always remembered. With the aim of a master marksman, she threw the comb into the empty bowl by the windowsill that she knew she would use to wash herself when she woke. Reminding herself that she was tired and needed sleep, she stood back up and replaced the chair in the corner of the cabin. She looked around the floor to check that none of her letters had fallen from her pockets and nodded to herself as if she mentally marked things off from her to-do list. 

Leliana took one more look at Elissa and smiled, before quietly falling to her knees to cry, truly cry, for the first time in 10 years. Bent over with her forehead to the floor as her sobs wracked her body, hands in her mouth to stop any noise from waking her. She allowed herself this last moment of weakness to succumb to her joy before she followed the difficult path Elissa was bound to lead them down - to reclaim herself and to restore the sky. 

Blessed be the Maker.  Chapter 4