#back to a destroyed Lothering it goes... for reasons

[sundogsandrainbows]

STORY SUMMARY: Trust is a delicate flower that needs to get nurtured and time to grow. Even more so love. A tale of two disparate Wardens forced together, of finding a way to overcome the distrust, and their own painful past in the time of the Blight. Very in-depth, character-focused exploration of the Dalish origin/warden, of all DA:O companions, and their relationship dynamics during the Fifth Blight. Follows and expands on canon events; AU in some ways. Multiple POV's, origins, and pairings. Slow burn af.

CHAPTER 52 SUMMARY -- SOUNDS OF YESTERDAY, PART I: In order to find the key for the chest left behind by Cailan in Ostagar, the Wardens and companions make a very reluctant detour to Lothering. Or rather what little is left of it, with it being now a destroyed, corrupted husk of a village.

CHAPTER EXCERPT:

[...] Smoke billows cloyed the firmament, obscuring what little daylight was left. Alistair had the infinite wisdom to take a torch with him, lest he’d stumble blindly through the torn down ruins of this village. What made it hard to breathe and watered his eyes wasn’t just the plumes of smoke from the fires still burning. It was the corruption here, like a leaden cobweb it wrapped itself all around them, stealing all life and oxygen. No wonder the man they’d met had contracted the taint sickness for entering here, for it was absolutely and entirely darkspawn territory now. Dead land, rotten and destroyed to what seemed its core. Unthinkable that it could ever recover from it, not with how thick the stench of death permeated the air.

“Ugh, lovely.” Lenya kicked at a stone in frustration. He illuminated the ground for a closer look at it, which was a baaaad idea in hindsight. Since it wasn’t a stone after all… but a small skull, long since picked clean. Maker, if that wasn’t belonging to an animal then… no. Nope. Nope . Refusal to complete this thought was the best course of action here, and the only valid one. “It is even worse than I expected it to be here.”

“Yeah.” Hard to imagine now that they were walking through this then-intact village almost half a year ago. Fresh-faced and thrown together after the tragedy that was Ostagar and their near death experience, in the search for information and equipment for their larger than life quest. It always had held the air of despair, filled to the brim with refugees as it were, but this here… was a completely disparate world. Theirs , to be exact. And every place would look like this, whole cities turned graveyards, should they fail. So many more people would die, futures and hopes crushed underfoot by incessant floods of darkspawn hordes. It was all the pressure, all the burden now visualized in this forsaken place; of what was at stake and expected of them both –just the two of them– that robbed him of all oxygen. How could he ever— The ground began to spin around him and with the torch still in hand, Alistair stumbled to a house's ruin at the side, to empty out his stomach into the snow-covered, decayed soil in front of it. The torch cluttered to the ground as he doubled over to heave. [...]

[CONTINUE READING] ||[READ FROM THE BEGINNING]

[crqstalite]

Character Name: Reyna Hawke

Full Name: Reyna Samaira Hawke

Nick Names: Rey

Gender: Female

Age: 24 (9:30 Dragon), 38 (9:44 Dragon)

Birthday/year: Early Drakonis in 9:06 Dragon.

Sexuality: Omnisexual

Marital Status: Single (DA2), ...it’s complicated (9:37 Dragon)

Spouse: Sort of in a relationship with Anders?

Hair: Kept shoulder length during her time in Kirkwall, though cut short just before the events of Adamant Fortress. Blonde.

Eyes: Grey-blue

Origin: Born somewhere in Fereldan, though she’s not entirely sure.

Language: Reyna is fluent in Common. That’s it.

Blood Type: B

Height: Reyna is 5′7

Weight/Body Structure/Physical Faults: Reyna is light on her feet, as any good rogue is, and weighs 130 pounds. She’s an excellent infiltrator, and has a skinny form that’s terribly good at getting into places she shouldn’t be. She doesn’t have many faults other than that she is currently struggling with her wrists the most (considering she relies on them heavily for her everyday activities). She isn’t particularly strong, but that’s made up for by her dexterity.

Race/Species: Human

Parents/Elders/Guardians: Her late parents Leandra Amell and Malcom Hawke.

Siblings: The late Carver Hawke and her sister Bethany.

Beliefs/Religion: Reyna is probably the one that would shout obscenities at a Divine. She is very much atheist.

Career/Past Careers: Reyna used to be a begrudging seamstresses alongside her mother in Lothering, but took plenty of odd jobs to make ends meet when Malcom died. She used to be a smuggler upon arrival to Kirkwall, but currently is the Champion of Kirkwall and what haunts recruit templars’ nightmares.

Hobbies: Reyna’s favorite hobby is to sketch sometimes. She’s far from good at it (at least in her mind) but she enjoys it. Most of her notebook is full of drawings of her sister when she misses her, but more often than not, her mother. After she dies, she doesn’t pick the hobby back up but likes to reminisce about the past with it.

Likes: Reyna likes to brood, as Varric calls it. In reality, sometimes she just likes to be alone. A lot goes on in Kirkwall, and Reyna can’t always handle it all be herself, so she distances herself from her friends. She also likes the rain. It didn’t rain much in Lothering, but she likes the sound of it.

Loves: Reyna loves to go home, she loves to be home. Lothering was home for a time, and she misses it, but she’s a Marcher now. The Amell Estate will always be home no matter what, and now that Anders has joined that home of her’s, she loves the days she can go home and lay in front of the fire. She loves to feel safe with him, with her mother. Knowing there’s somewhere she can go back to, somewhere where she doesn’t feel like she has to watch her back all the time -- that is what she adores.

Dislikes: Reyna doesn’t like Cullen. That’s it. Sure she doesn’t like Templars as a whole, but she despises Cullen himself. Nothing Marzeyna or Varric or Cassandra say matters to her. She’s not the biggest fan of hangovers either.

Loathes: She hates the Chantry -- plain and simple. It’s the reason she and her family had to run, it’s the reason Bethany was taken from her and it’s the reason the Circle is as bad as it was. Fundamentally, she agrees with Anders -- in practice, well, she doesn’t condemn the action. She hates just how much of a monopoly they have over everything going on Thedas, and to be entirely honest, she’s beyond glad that someone else ended up as the Herald -- she would’ve had a lot of words for the Maker in the event that she became the mouthpiece for his bride.

Fears: Reyna fears losing the people closest to her the most. Losing any of her party would destroy her beyond repair -- first losing her father, then her own little brother because she wasn’t fast enough to stop him, then her sister because she left her all alone, and then her own mother because she wasn’t quick enough to solve the mystery. She fears the day she’s left all alone in the world, and the thought will never stop scaring her. She holds on as tight as she can, and acts rashly if need be -- even if it alienates the people she’s trying to protect.

Strengths: Reyna isn’t the strongest in the party -- no that goes to Fenris, or Aveline really. But what she is is extremely dexterous and quiet enough that people rarely notice her. Even in direct combat she’s a formidable foe, and she works alongside anyone’s strategy to exploit an enemy’s weaknesses. One distraction by the mage, the guard captain or the elf and you might as well be dead already. You may disarm her, but she knows exactly how to kill you regardless of her lack of weapon (her kill of choice is the snapping of a neck). And Reyna Hawke is never without a weapon, people balk at just how many places she hides knives.

Weakness: Reyna is beyond aggressive. That’s not to say she can’t use it to her advantage, but she’ll leap without thinking sometimes. It makes her sloppy if she’s angry during a fight, using more force than is necessary and getting herself into more trouble than expected if she ends up not letting herself carefully plan every objective out. 

Supernatural Powers & Abilities: She has none.

Temperament: Reyna is very persuasive, and even if you’re not, she will not take no for an answer. She can and will argue every little point with little regard for your own feelings or experiences with a certain situation, and it is difficult to get a proper apology out of her if that is the case. She will hold fast to an opinion, and it has driven rifts between her and other people before, even if she loves them more than anything. If you’re a Templar though? You might as well run for the hills, she will not deal with you peacefully no matter what you say. She acknowledges that she isn’t a good person in the end (no matter how much Anders tries to convince her otherwise), and sees her staying in the Fade with the Nightmare Demon as atonement for every crime that she’s ever committed.

Party Relationships:

aveline vallen ➝ friend (9:30 Dragon-9:41 Dragon) varric tethras  ➝ best friend (9:30 Dragon-9:41 Dragon) anders  ➝ friend (9:30 Dragon-9:34 Dragon), lover (9:34 Dragon-9:41 Dragon) isabela  ➝ friend (9:30 Dragon-9:41 Dragon) merrill  ➝ friend (9:30 Dragon-9:41 Dragon) fenris  ➝ friend/rival [it’s complicated] (9:30 Dragon-9:41 Dragon) malcom hawke  ➝ father (died 9:27 Dragon) leandra amell  ➝ mother (died 9:34 Dragon) bethany hawke  ➝ sister carver hawke  ➝ brother (died 9:30 Dragon) gamlen amell  ➝ uncle evolet amell  ➝ cousin (conditional -- au)

[daughter-of-the-prophet]

Bethany Hawke (TV Tropes)

All Women Love Shoes: Makes no less than three comments about shoes when prompted.

Angsty Surviving Twin: Downplayed, but Bethany is certainly affected by the loss of Carver. Her first party banter with Varric after they meet him is about how much she misses her twin. She also admits to Areida Hawke how jealous Carver was that the dog chose their older sister instead of him to be his master. It's particularly telling that, seven years after he died, she says that the one thing in her life she truly regrets is that she couldn't stop him from charging that Ogre.

Awesome Mc Coolname: Despite it being a Fan Nickname for Areida Hawke, Bethany is the one that gets called Lady Hawke.

The Baby of the Bunch: Bethany is the youngest of the three Hawke siblings, if only by a few minutes, and the entire family is extremely protective of her, even Carver. She later becomes a little sister to the entire party.

Badass Adorable: Capable of kicking lots of ass, though there is much emphasis placed on her cute demeanor and vulnerability as an apostate.

Badass Bookworm: At the circle, Bethany is held in high regard by both the Templars (by Meredith herself, no less) and her own students as an exemplary mage, despite being a former apostate and the daughter of an apostate.

Badass Teacher/Cool Teacher: Despite being only 23 by Act 2, Bethany still ends up becoming a senior member of the Circle and in charge of teaching apprentices. It's mentioned that they completely adore her.

Beauty, Brains and Brawn: In a trio with Areida and Aveline, Bethany is The Beauty - she has the sweetest disposition and the kindest heart, and several characters (Fenris and Varric among them) remark on how pretty she is.

Beware the Nice Ones: Bethany is quite possibly the nicest, most approachable, least-morally-compromised of Areida's companion. This doesn't mean she's any less capable of destroying you.

Big Sister Instinct:

Invokes this frequently . Do not threaten her when Areida is around.

Also on the receiving end of this. When the Templars come to take Bethany, Areida calmly informs them that they will have to go through her first before Bethany begs her sister to stand down and tells the Templars she will go quietly.

Big Sister Worship: She idolizes her big sister and is constantly supportive of her during her time in the party.

Birds of a Feather: This is a factor in her relationship with Varric, which is one of the healthiest in the franchise. They are the two companions who get along with everyone, they both like helping people, and they are the most content of the entire group to live and let live.

Breast Expansion: For a short time, during Varric's exaggerated prologue sequence you might notice something besides Bethany's magic prowess being enhanced. Afterwards she has the normal female model.

Broken Bird: Downplayed, since she doesn't like to air her grievances, but it becomes more and more apparent that she sees herself as a burden to her family. She feels guilty that Areida goes through so much effort to protect her secret. This is why she surrenders when the Templars come and take her to the Circle at the end of Act 1.

Character Development:

She retains her 'Sunshine' persona and instead grows both more proficient as a mage and also deeper in her faith in the Maker, finding meaning in her own existence.

Either way, she tells Areida that she wouldn't change anything about the events that brought her and her sister to this point, other than stopping Carver's Heroic Sacrifice

Child of Forbidden Love: Like her siblings.

Color-Coded Eyes: Bethany has brown eyes, indicating that she has a warm and down-to-earth personality.

Comes Great Responsibility: Like father, like daughter.

Cool Aunt: She's seen as this by her nephews and niece.

Corrupt the Cutie: Courtesy of Isabela; Isabela delights in trying to remove some of Bethany's innocence, much to Areida's distress.

On learning she is a virgin, Isabela offers to buy her a night at the Blooming Rose. It's unknown whether this ever actually happens.

Isabela apparently sends her a lot of suggestive books to get her through the night while in the circle. 

Country Mouse: She comments that she misses the fields of Lothering, compared to the cramped streets of Kirkwall.

Covert Pervert: As noted above, she's grateful to Isabela for sending her suggestive books.

The Cutie: She has a fair few of the trope's requisites, including being incredibly sweet, kind to everyone, and demonstrably affectionate. She's also subjected to Corrupt the Cutie, as noted above.

Daddy's Girl: Strongly implied after the end of Legacy. Malcolm justifiably spent a lot more time with Bethany than with either Areida or Carver since Bethany is the family's only mage child. This may also explain why Bethany looks up to her older sister so much, since Areida is a whole lot like their father in both looks and personality.

Dead Guy Junior: According to The World of Thedas, Bethany is named after her maternal grandmother, Bethann Amell, who died sometime during the year before the twins were born. Leandra only learned of her mother's death shortly before giving birth.

Deadpan Snarker: Occasionally, though less than most of the rest of the companions.

Some of her banter with Anders in Legacy delves into snark, especially when he tries to scold her for voluntarily joining the Circle.

Dysfunction Junction: Initially, she is the sole exception, with the rest of the party having dark pasts and personalities to match them. She isn't nicknamed "Sunshine" for nothing.

Earn Your Happy Ending: In Act 3, Bethany has spent the past six years locked in the Gallows, but by the end of the story, she's free, her friends are alive, she has reunited with her beloved older sister, and the mages are uniting to fight for their freedom. Even though it doesn't go as smoothly as everyone would have hoped, and there's much hard fighting in store for the mages, her fate could have been much worse and she hopes that good will come out of the impending revolution.

Belated Happy Ending: It goes even further, offscreen, at the end of Trespasser in Inquisition. Varric has become Viscount of Kirkwall, and Areida is back in Kirkwall, helping him run the city; the two most powerful people in Kirkwall both love Bethany dearly, and the captain of the guard is her old friend Aveline. Furthermore, after Leliana is made Divine. She dissolves all the Circles of Magi - meaning that Bethany is now free and, one would imagine, enjoying her rightful place at the Hawke estate with her adored older sister, her sister's love interest, and her nephews and neice. It may take a long time for her to get there, but Bethany does eventually earn a very happy ending.

Everyone's Baby Sister: Older than most examples, but still fits. It comes with being both the youngest companion and the only one (besides Varric) that everyone likes. Being Areida's actual little sister also contributes to the role.

Fantastic Racism: Bethany hates Qunari, though she has more justification than most; she had a friend in the family that Sten murdered. This leads to a horribly ironic moment in the prologue: Her twin brother is killed by an ogre while fleeing Lothering. Ogres are Kossith-based darkspawn. 

The Friend Nobody Likes: Inverted; as noted above, she and Varric are the only ones of Areida's companions that everyone likes.

God Is Good: Her view of the Maker; of the story's three mage companions, she is the most devout Andrastian. Her faith gets stronger throughout the story.

Gravity Master: By Legacy, she has become a Force Mage. 

Hot-Blooded: She has no fear charging into any situation with her magic, even as she tries to hide it.

I Just Want to Be Normal: Her biggest wish is to be normal, as revealed in party banter with Merrill, and she resents all of the hardships brought upon her family in order to keep her safe. The World of Thedas, vol. 2 contains a report, written by someone who met the family in Lothering and was somehow privy to young Bethany's apostate status, which talks about how much the girl clearly would rather not have magic.

Subverted in Legacy. She realizes being "normal" would require an entirely different family. She admits, despite the hardship of being an apostate, she wouldn't have it any other way.

Indifferent Beauty: Multiple characters, as noted above, remark on how attractive Bethany is. She herself seems entirely unconcerned with it, though she clearly appreciates the compliments.

The Ingenue She starts the story and spends the first act as this; she grows into Silk Hiding Steel and a Lady of War.

Leeroy Jenkins: At the end of Act 2, she gathers a cadre of mages to help Orsino fight the Qunari, despite his orders for them to pull back. Her entire group gets slaughtered, but much to Areida's relief, Orsino is able to revive Bethany.

Meaningful Name: "Sunshine" is Varric's nickname for her; Isabela's is "Sweetness." They're both very accurate. 

"Sunshine" may be a particularly Meaningful Name. Varric has a number of lines, in party banter and cutscenes, in which he mentions that part of the reason he prefers being a surface dwarf is because he enjoys being in the sunlight. Unlike the more superficial or sarcastic names he gives most of the other companions, he named Bethany after something he loves, and his interactions with her are some of the warmest he has in any story where he appears.

Nice Girl: It says something that, for all the varying views and tempers of the companions, Bethany gets along with all of them; even Fenris, who otherwise despises mages, likes Bethany. 

Nice, Mean, and In-Between: Among the three Hawke siblings, she's the In Between to Areida's Nice and Carver's Mean.

Platonic Declaration of Love: She gives one to Areida before the final battle at the end of the story.

       "If we don't survive this, sister, I just want you to know that I love you."

Playing with Fire: Bethany definitely qualifies, as she's first seen using fire spells; she has a staff that shoots fire and uses fire spells in cutscenes when she attacks.

Plucky Girl: Bethany refuses to allow her time spent in the Gallows to harden her, and she hopes the mages' rebellion will change how they live among others for the better. 

Put on a Bus: Bethany is forced to join the Circle at the end of Act 1.

The Bus Came Back: She rejoins the party in Legacy, during the battle with the Qunari at the end of Act 2, and during the final battle at the end of the story.

In Inquisition, Bethany is sent away by Areida in order to keep her as far as possible from the mage-Templar conflict.

The Red Mage: Bethany doesn't have the party heals or revives of Anders, or the hell-raising blood magic of Merrill, but has access to a great deal of offensive and defensive magic, plus healing, which Merrill lacks. Properly built, she is one of the most versatile mages in the story, subverting the Master of None stigma associated with them. As an Elemental/Force Mage, this becomes even more apparent.

Red Oni, Blue Oni: Blue to Carver's Red.

The Revolution Will Not Be Vilified: She believes that this should be true of the Mage rebellion, and she stands as an example of a good free mage.

Scarf Of Asskicking: Like the other female mage, Merrill. It's probably there to hide the black seam between the head and body in character models, but that doesn't mean Bethany doesn't look stylish in her vibrant red scarf.

Ship Tease: A very sweet one exists between her and Varric, of all people; their relationship is examined in detail on the Heartwarming page. He sometimes calls her "my lady," "Milady Sunshine," or "my Sunshine," which makes her giggle, and he has a number of party banter lines in which he compliments her beauty. She's also the only party member to whom he is absolutely never snarky. There's a lot of affection in their interactions, and their relationship continues to receive mention in Inquisition - he has some lines which indicate that he writes to her frequently. 

Sibling Rivalry: Party banter includes hints that this was her relationship with Carver.

Sibling Yin-Yang: With her twin, Carver.

Strong Family Resemblance: Facially, at least, she seems to take after her mother a good deal.

Token Good Teammate: One of the few party members that is not one of the many darker shades of grey found throughout the story.

Token Religious Teammate: The most religious party member. She struggles to reconcile her faith in the Maker with her life as an apostate. By the endgame, Bethany has mostly managed to do so.

Tomboy and Girly Girl: Bethany is the girly-girl to Areida's tomboy.

The Unfavorite: Discussed in Legacy. Learning that Malcolm didn't want to pass on his magic shocks Bethany, who was the only one of the three children to inherit his power. She wonders if Malcolm secretly resented her, which Areida is very quick to shut down; the only thing Malcolm resented was that Bethany had to carry a burden the rest of their family couldn't comprehend.

We Help the Helpless: In Inquisition, when Inquisitor Rosabelle Trevelyan asks him about his companions' whereabouts, Varric says that Bethany is helping refugees in the Free Marches.

[carterhaughs]

vir lath sa'vunin

The end of the Fifth Blight heralds a new dawn for Ferelden and her peoples, but consolidating support for the young new king will not be easy, and rebuilding would be an arduous task even without the threat of residual darkspawn and fresh new horrors lingering in the wake of the Archdemon. Aelinor Surana and Alistair Theirin will need all the strength, savvy, cunning, and knowledge they can muster if they are to heal their country's hurts. With help from friends new and old and their love for each other, they will face down adversity as they always have: together.

Read @ Ao3

Note: "Vir Lath Sa'vunin" is a line from Leliana's Song - the one she sings to the warden after Zathrian and/or the Lady of the Forest die during the Nature of the Beast quest line. It is an old elven song that Keeper Lanaya may share with you in the form of a codex entry. The line means "we love one more day."

Chapter 1: The Vhenadahl

The Denerim vhenadahl budded with new growth in the low summer sun, slathered with a new layer of pale red paint that reflected the light of the candles at its base as they flickered in the evening breeze. Aelinor Surana stooped to pray there, smiling as she quietly thanked Andraste for having seen the alienage through the Fifth Blight and for suffusing it with a life that had all but left it under Loghain’s tyranny.

She remembered another oak tree bent double on itself in the cramped confines of the Lothering alienage walls, aching to stretch its limbs but holding itself back, for their sake. “As a mage, you are like this tree,” her father told her when the templars came to take her away. “You always held yourself back, that you might remain with us. Go now, and learn all you can of it so nothing can confine you.” She was seven years old and the Alienage’s best kept secret, outed as a mage when she had frozen a drunken human solid mid-assault on the elderly Hahren Elora for her daring to ask him to leave the elven quarter. Her father’s words had held more truth than he could possibly have known. If only he had lived to see them take shape.

Aelinor stood up and smoothed out her traveling robes, fine enough that she could wear them in court and unobtrusive enough that she felt comfortable wearing them among the common people of the city. The mark of her order was evident without ostentation, a griffon emblazoned in detailed stitching on the back, pale grey on dark blue. The man at her side dressed simply enough himself, though the leathers he wore were of obviously fine make. His short-sleeved jerkin and linen tunic were hardly the garment of kings, however, and of course that is why he chose to wear them. She turned to him.

“Why is it that we meet here today, Your Majesty?” Alistair winced at the formality, but he knew that she was determined to make their relationship as professional as possible in public.

“There’s someone here to see you. Two someones. Shianni arranged lodgings for them in Cyrion Tabris’ old place.” She raised her eyebrows at him, sorely tempted to peck him on the cheek. She still couldn’t believe Fereldan had a king who took such an active interest in elven affairs the likes of which the country had never seen in living memory. He knew the names and history of nearly every family here now, more so than she herself did given how often she had to range far afield in her duties as a sort of Warden ambassador in the aftermath of the Blight.

“Who might they be?”

“You’ll see.” He smiled, eyes lit by the spark of mischief she’d missed so dearly when she’d been away. Aelinor followed him to the house and knocked. After the Blight, the home of the well-respected Tabris family had become a sort of community center as well as a memorial, the better not to let a good living place go to waste after the Tabris daughter had died in the uprising. Aelinor had not given up hope on tracking down the Denerim elves sold into slavery under Loghain’s regency and had sent Zevran and some other covert operatives to follow up on any leads they might gather as to the whereabouts of Cyrion Tabris and the other captives she herself did not arrive in time to rescue during the Blight. They had been gone for months, but would send word by raven should they locate anyone who might be saved. In the meantime, however, his niece Hahren Shianni assured the alienage that this is what Cyrion would have wanted.

The door opened and Aelinor, not knowing what to expect, wasn’t quite sure who the tired, greying elven couple who answered her knock was at first. But one look at the man’s shaggy mane of red-gold hair and the woman’s bright green eyes, so like her own, and she knew them for her parents. She could not move, unable to believe her eyes, and for a moment, neither could they.

“But...Lothering was destroyed...y-you couldn’t possibly be–” Her mother took her in her arms and embraced her tight enough to hamper her breathing, though that might’ve just been the rapid beating of her heart. Over his wife Oriane’s shoulder, Ilven Surana took Aelinor’s face in his hands as carefully as if she were made of porcelain, as if he held her too ungently she would disintegrate.

“Aelinor. My daughter. You are here, and you are free. I hadn’t dared to hope...”

Her mother wept openly and stepped back, the better to take in the sight of her. “Our child, a woman grown, and the Hero of Fereldan! It wouldn’t matter how we got you back, but to meet you in such a way...!”

As if breaking out of a trance, the two of them abruptly turned to Alistair and bowed low. “Your Majesty, how can we ever thank you? For the return of our most precious daughter we owe you our lives.” Alistair chuckled.

“Believe me, I should be the one thanking you. But we can talk more inside, sers, so shall we?” He clasped Aelinor’s hand firmly in his own and opened the door wide to admit her. She flushed at his sudden gallantry, hardly unexpected given his typical chivalrous behavior but somehow a surprise to her every time.

He closed and latched the door behind them, and Aelinor embraced both of her parents herself this time, tears coursing down her cheeks. “I prayed every night that I might find you. Every night in the Circle I clung to what memories I had of your faces, lest I lose what little the Circle hadn’t managed to take from me. And when the Blight began and Lothering was lost, I thought you gone forever...”

“So you did,” said Alistair. “And I knew it was a comfort to you, to think they were well and truly gone. As a mage and a warden you knew nothing but loss, and uncertainty only makes the hurt that much keener. I know the feeling myself, and you helped me work through it. Doing the same for you was the least I could do.”

Her father stepped back and held her at arm’s length, still clinging lightly to her sleeve as if she might dissipate into nothing were he to let her go. “Lothering elves lived at a crossroads, Aelinor, and we often heard more than the humans that passed through there, or perhaps we just listened harder. We knew which way the wind was blowing and even though a Blight was never our prediction, we knew that whatever the outcome of the fight, the first refugees to suffer are always the elves. So we took to the road well before Ostagar and lived as hired hands and servants wherever we could. News traveled slow and as you know, we cannot read and would have found it difficult to find a literate elf to dictate our letters to in order to reassure you we still lived. But His Majesty sent a red-haired young woman to look for us, Leliana was her name. I half-remembered her as a storytelling lay sister at the chantry who sometimes visited the alienage and sang about the old tales to the children there. She even knew the lays of Garahel and Ser Aveline. You keep good company.” He beamed at her proudly, grasping her shoulder. “And you have your friends to thank for this reunion. I don’t know how, but she found us on the road and brought us here.”

“Mother, father...I don’t know how much of my story you know the truth of because there are so many wild tales about me now, but I should tell you first and foremost of all that Alistair and I have tried to keep between us.”

Her mother smiled at them, though her brows creased with concern. “Is he...? Are you...?”

“She is the love of my life,” Alistair affirmed her mother’s unspoken assumption in no uncertain terms. “I owe her everything. I can’t even begin to explain how much. If it weren’t for her I wouldn’t be alive, much less a king. She taught me my own worth and never forgot her own and it got us this far. I have no reason to doubt it will ever fail us.”

He reached for her hand again and clasped it tight. Ilven frowned slightly.

“That is all well and good. You’re one of the few humans of any caliber who’s proven himself friend to the elves, that’s for certain. But you are Ferelden’s king and she can never be your consort. Not in this nation, or any nation in Thedas.”

Aelinor met her father’s flinty gaze with her own, steadfast and sure. “We are loyal to each other in all but marriage. Before we moved forward with our plan to unite the nation as best we might through Alistair’s claim, we spoke of this.”

“I will never love another woman as I do her,” he said firmly. “Though I may have to marry, I won’t under any circumstances other than the purely political. She has my heart, and that will never change. But someday perhaps Thedas itself might, and I can marry her in earnest, though she doubts it.” He smiled wryly at her. “Aeli, my dear, you hardly know what you’ve started.”

“It’s true,” her mother said, wiping the tears from her eyes. “What the two of you have done for Ferelden, for our people...never think it goes unfelt. Your father and I can walk in the marketplace without half so many of the leers and sneers we were so accustomed to, and it has been months since the alienages in so many towns and cities lacked for sufficient food. Perhaps marriage between two people who love each other isn’t too much to hope for.”

Ilven raised an eyebrow skeptically but nodded. “That’s always possible, if unlikely. What I will say of the matter is this.” He looked Alistair up and down and extended a hand to him, which Alistair shook in all seriousness after looking briefly nonplussed. “I trust you with her heart. But you must swear in Andraste’s name never to break it.”

“You have my word, ser. She is my comrade-in-arms, my closest advisor, and my wife in every way that matters. I’d never have it otherwise.” Oriane Surana placed her hand over both of their own. “May Andraste bless your union and keep you both. If it’s not too presumptuous, ser, we hereby take you into our own family. From this day on, you may call us parent, and we will call you son.” Alistair was left speechless for a moment, and looked to Aelinor with a softness in his eyes she thought she understood. She squeezed his hand, the four of them united bodily in that moment through their hold on each other.

“During the Blight, we neither of us had family. We were more than content to find that in each other, but it seems that out of the infinite generosity of Andraste’s grace, she saw fit to give us even more.”

[january-warlock]

Here’s one of the commissions I did for oblivianrose; they were happy enough for me to write a sequel, which I’ll post after this one. 

Ships: Josephine/Inquisitor, Hawke/Anders, Alistair/Warden

Summary: Three of Thedas’ biggest power players-the Hero of Ferelden, the Inquisitor, and the Champion of Kirkwall, meeto discuss the future of Thedas’ mages and how to proceed with the lingering threat of the Chantry. 

“Presenting Warden Commander Neria Surana, and the Champion of Kirkwall, Mara Hawke.” Josephine, her hair braided back with bright red flowers in it, was at the far right. Leliana was on the left, her face shrouded by her hood.

Inquisitor Kirstin Trevelyan was at the center; her silverite dagger was at her waist, and she still carried the smell of dragonthorn and royal elfroot that she used in her flasks during battle.

Neria’s years and experience showed on her face; they’d painted lines around her mouth and eyes, but she still carried a spring to her step. She was dressed in her Grey Warden silver and blue armor, with her grimoire that had a bright green tree on its cover at her hip.

“I don’t really go by ‘Champion’ anymore.” Mara said. She had her mother’s orange hair, her sharp blue eyes, and high cheekbones. “It’s not even Lady Hawke, technically.” With the dissolution of the Circles, all mages were now apostates, and with Hawke’s involvement with the destruction of Kirkwall’s Chantry, she was now a fugitive and had lost all claims to her title and estate.

“I’ll help if I can, Inquisitor. After you saved Alistair and Hawke in the Fade, I’ll do what I can for you.” Neria wasn’t sure how Kirstin had done it; she’d somehow fended off the massive fear demon with the Anchor, ripping it apart piece by piece, and allowing those with her to escape. And that was what convinced Neria to temporarily stop her search for a cure for the Blight to assist the Inquisitor.

“I appreciate it, Warden Commander.” Remembering the training provided to her by her own family and Josephine, Kirstin gave a low bow. “I appreciate your time and willingness to speak with me. You’re both here because we have all declared support for the mages of Thedas-a topic I’m sure is sensitive to both of you-and unfortunately, that support has angered many.” Those had been Leliana’s words, and she’d decided now, while they had the support of Orlais, was a good time to remedy the situation, lest it turn volatile. “And I’d like advice from all of you on how to handle the situation, in the Free Marches, Ferelden, and Orlais.”

“Silence the largest opponents in Orlais.” Leliana said. “A quick knife from behind makes no sense and prevents anymore.”

“Perhaps a reminder of the Chantry’s wrongdoings before we jump to the assassins?” Josephine said, giving Leliana a hard look. “The templars made a grand show of knocking a Chantry woman in front of the nobility, and the Chantry itself was more preoccupied with consolidating its own power before helping the commoners.”

“As for the Free Marches, remind them of Kirkwall, and its Circle.” Mara said. “And that if the Chantry had done its job, the rebellion and the Mage-Templar war wouldn’t have happened.”

Kirstin kept her posture straight, but she couldn’t help her sense of discomfort. She herself, with no magic to speak of, had never been subjected to the horrors of the Circle, her younger brother had, and the thought of him being thrown to those wolves made her skin crawl. “Is bringing up Kirkwall really the smartest move?” She asked, looking to Josephine. “A mage blew up their Chantry. That’s been the main point of any who speak out against mages.” Kirstin could see Mara’s glare out of the corner of her eye, but kept her focus on Josephine.

“The goal here is to erode the support of the Chantry, and increase the support of the mages to strengthen our own.” Josephine said. “Our ties to the mages of Thedas are bound in steel, and the Chantry will not take kindly to it.”

“We don’t have to remove the Chantry.” Leliana said, her face close to a glare. “They’re at a weak point, and with Orlais’ support behind us, they’re no threat.”

Neria looked across the table at her old friend; they’d fought side by side during the Blight, and despite Neria’s unending hatred for the Chantry, she’d found Leliana’s views interesting, and it had opened up her own. But that hadn’t changed her opinion of the institution itself. “The Chantry’s been a threat to Thedas since it’s conception, and not just to mages.” Neria’s elven ears poked through her orange hair; she remembered what it was like to leave the Circle, see the alienage, where elves lived in ghettos because of the Chantry, and the Dalish, who lived as nomads unable to find a permanent home because of the Chantry. And that the racism she experienced in and out of the Circle was also the fault of the Chantry’s.

“If it wasn’t for the Chantry, the Qunari would never have invaded Kirkwall. Elthina did what she always did, and turned a blind eye to Petrice, who instigated the Qunari.” Mara said, putting her hands on the war table. “I can put a message out to the Free Marches. The Chantry stood back and did nothing while innocent people suffered for over a decade, and not just the mages. Remember the late night raids on their families, executing people who supported the mages? Bullying the nobility to keep a new Viscount from being elected?”

“With all due respect, Lady Hawke, we’re aware of your relationship to Anders, the one who destroyed the Chantry in the first place. And we know that people know that you didn’t execute him when you had the chance.”

Mara opened her mouth to speak, but Neria cut her off. “I can’t blame her. Elthina got what she had coming, and the Chantry has nothing and no one to blame but its templars and its own inaction. Like how it did nothing during the Blight. The templars were more concerned with saving each other and murdering mages than anything else at Kinloch Hold.” Neria remembered the smell of blood and burning corpses, as the templars cowered behind a massive door, and Alistair had muttered “that cowering was definitely the templar ‘plan b.’” “I was there, and I remember every detail.” She looked over at Mara. “Did you know that the Chantry was busy looking for donations instead of helping the people of Lothering?”

Mara nodded. “I remember that the templars abandoned it.”

“If the mages of Thedas are going to have a future, the Chantry can’t have a say in it.” Neria said. “Your brother is a mage, ask him what he thinks.”

Kirstin didn’t have to. She knew her brother’s feelings on the Circle; he’d been rowdy and difficult, a frequent runaway, pushing his limits to see what he could get away with it. And he hadn’t been quiet or lighthearted about it when they finally met up again at Redcliffe. “My brother and I have already talked about at length on his time with the Circle.”

Leliana said nothing, and Kirstin let out a heavy sigh. “Thank you, all of you, for your advice. I appreciate you taking the time to meet me, and I hope we’ll be in contact again soon.” Kirstin bowed again, and waved her hand. “You’re both dismissed, I need to discuss things with my advisors.”

---

Mara waited for Neria outside of the war room. The light coming in from the broken windows gave Neria a wondrous glow behind her. “Thoughts, Warden Commander?” She asked.

“My thoughts are that the Circles do not work. They’re not about helping mages, or anyone. The Chantry cares about the Chantry, and everything else is a smokescreen.” Neria tapped her staff on the floor. “And as grim a prospect as my future is, I’ll take a death fighting darkspawn that at the hands of a templar who didn’t like being told no.”

Mara nodded. She’d seen the collapse first-hand; things in Kirkwall had been far from fine, but those in power had been content to stand back and watch the fire burn, until something they cared about got caught in the blaze. She and the Warden shook hands before going down the hall together, but not saying a word.

Back in the war room, Kirstin faced Leliana and Josephine. “So we have our plan, then?”

“I’m not convinced going against the Chantry isn’t a mistake.” Leliana said. “If we can reform them, use our position to strengthen theirs, repair their relationship to the people, a reformed Chantry in our debt would be a powerful ally.”

“The Chantry’s been against us from the start, Leliana. And I believe in the Maker, but not the Chantry.” She sighed. “And they took my baby brother away from me. I missed out on his birthdays, watching him grow up, and he missed out a good portion of his life that he won’t get back.” She paused to gather herself. “But I shouldn’t let my personal feelings get in the way. What happens if we eliminate the Chantry?”

“We alone are an independent power in Thedas, which no doubt will make people nervous.” Josephine said. “If we do repair the Chantry, we could end up competing for influence, even if we’re the reason they still exist and every Chantry in Thedas didn’t end up with us using them to house refugees.”

“Table that suggestion.” Kirstin said, rubbing her temple, and feeling a headache coming on. “Either we further damage the Chantry’s reputation and use their buildings to help deal with the refugee crisis, or we tell the revered mothers to do that themselves if they want to fix their reputation.”

“We do have other leverage-the Chantry did nothing in the civil war, and with Orlais behind us,” They weren’t so much as “behind the Inqusition” as much as they were in the Inquisitor’s pocket. “One meeting with the Empress could shatter whatever support they have in Orlais.”

“I’ll draft some letters for Queen Anora, see what we want to do. But what about our mages?” Kirstin asked.

Josephine showed her the plans she’d drawn up a few hours before the meeting had started. “They’re safe. And if the Chantry goes, the reputation of mages will heal, with time. What we should do is have the mages interact with nobles and commoners alike. The healers could go to the Hinterlands, Crestwood, anywhere there’s a refugee situation, and show them the benefits of free mages. For the nobles of Orlais, show them the potential of mage scholars, and see who would be wiling to serve with their soldiers.”

Kirstin nodded. “I see. I need to think on this, see what direction would really be best.”

Kirstin left, closing the doors behind her and returned to her quarters, and set to burning prophet’s laurel for incense. As the sweet smell filled her room, she leaned back on her couch, her foot up on a stool, she undid her hair, enjoying the feeling of her hair no longer being bunched up. Hopefully, that would ease her headache before it turned into a migraine.

She was enjoying the warm, scented air and feeling her stress leave her when she heard quiet, light footsteps going up the stairs. For her brief training as a bard, Josephine hadn’t learned how to make herself completely silent.

“A copper for your thoughts?” Josephine asked, taking a seat next to her, and running her hands through Kirstin’s hair.

Kirstin let out a long sigh. “I’m just thinking. Life was a lot more simple a year ago, when I didn’t have to make decisions like this.” She laid her head back, enjoying the feeling of Josephine’s fingers on her head. “I can’t see the future, I don’t know what the right thing to do is.”

Josephine nodded sympathetically. “You must go with your heart, my love. It’s as you said, you can’t see the future; you can just do what you think is right.”

“That’s easier when it’s just me being effected, not all of Thedas.” That was the hardest part of being Inquisitor; each of her actions was like throwing a stone in the water, and it was hard to determine who would be effected by the ripples. She inched closer to the other woman, wrapping her arms around her. She took a deep breath, enjoying the feel of her head being on Josephine’s shoulders. “I should send up for some wine. And we take a moment for just the two of us.”

“There’s an Antivan vintage I’ve been meaning to share with you for ages now. Straight from the Montilyet wine cellar.” Josephine draped her legs over Kirstin’s. “Made from the finest red grapes in Antivan vineyards.”

“That sounds exactly what I need.” Kirstin kissed Josephine’s forehead, then the tip of her nose, her jawline, her mouth. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Well, that’s not something you’ll ever find out.” Josephine smiled as she leaned in to kiss the Inquisitor again.

---

Outside, Mara had bid a quick hug and goodbye to Varric, and slipped into a cloak that was large enough to hide her features. She took the long way around to the back of Skyhold, until she came to a steep cliff. There was a massive boulder at the end with rope tied around it. She’d gone in through the “front door” for lack of a better term, but she couldn’t risk anyone seeing where she was going-or with whom. Too many soldiers in the Inqusition loyal to the Chantry and the Maker. Tying a loop around her waist, she began the long scale down.

Anders was waiting in a small cave, bundled up with furs to ward against the cold. He’d aged a bit since Kirkwall; wrinkles more prominent around his face, his hair color starting to fade, but seemed so much healthier than he was in Kirkwall. Less thin, less on edge, despite being a fugitive wanted by half of Thedas. “How did it go, love?”

“I pushed for the Inquisition to weaken and eventually end the Chantry.” Mara said, wrapping her arms around his neck. “But the Inquisition is keeping the mages safe, and Lady Josephine is doing what she can to help them adjust to life outside the Circles, and get people to see what free mages could do for them.”

Anders smiled, kissing her forehead. “So, worth putting yourself in danger. If Cullen or any good Inquisition soldier saw me, they might just kill me on the spot.”

“But they didn’t see you, and nobody knows you’re here, not even Varric. But we should literally make tracks and keep walking. We should be in the Anderfels as soon as possible. I believe Neria and Alistair are headed that way too, but we’ll attract less attention if we split up.”

“And neither of them care who I am, or what I did?”

“Neria hates the Chantry as much as I do; she won’t say a word.”

She took Anders’ hand in hers, and when she looked into his eyes, for just a moment, she could see their past-the easier days in Kirkwall, when it was just running and killing, before the templars, and Carver joining the Grey Wardens, when things were not always good, but better. She wasn’t certain she’d ever see Kirkwall again, or that she even wanted to.

She didn’t know what was in their future; she didn’t think there would ever be a point where Anders wouldn’t be a wanted criminal, unless they went to Rivain, where the Chantry wasn’t welcome and mages were. But whatever happened, she would not be parted from him, come what may.

Neria stood in front of the former Grand Enchanter, Fiona in the library of Skyhold. She looked all of her years, lines in her dark skin, but she didn’t seem even slightly weary. Neria could see the fire in her eyes that inspired her to start the mage rebellion. “And you have no idea what made you stop being a Warden?”

Neria hadn’t heard of Fiona until a few years of her being in the Wardens had passed. But even then, she’d be astounded to learn that there was someone who avoided their Calling. “No. Whatever it was, it also meant that I couldn’t do the Joining again. And without my Warden capabilities, I returned to the Circles to free our people.”

“You lost your ability to be a Warden, but willingly returned to the Circle?”

“To help our fellow mages. I saw plenty of their cruelty firsthand, and I would do anything if it meant freeing our people of it.” She could see orange and red flicker across her warm brown eyes. Neria didn’t believe her when she said that didn’t know what cured her of the Blight, but she didn’t know her well enough to press it.

“Warden Commander, is it true that your friend Alistair is a Warden?” Fiona asked.

“He’s more than a friend,” Neria smiled. “But yes, he is a Warden. Why?”

“Nothing-just curious about the routes that life take.”

That was something Neria was curious about, but she bowed her head. “Thank you, Fiona. Hopefully, we’ll see each other again.”

After saying goodbye to Fiona, she was on the outside of Skyhold, Neria had covered herself up against the cold as best as she could. With her business done with the Inqusition-for good, hopefully-this time, she was free to further pursue the cure for the calling.

She opened up her book filled with her notes.

After what occurred at our keep all those years ago, I’ve been certain that the Calling isn’t the death sentence we’ve believed it to be. My own knowledge of the Blight and Warden training is limited, but after my study of high dragons and the properties of their blood, I’m convinced that they would somehow be involved with a cure.

I’ve done several autopsies on their bodies, and each time, I’ve found cysts resembling the Blight, as if the dragons were guarding against its influence. I’ve tried using high dragon blood in my experiments, but no results so far. There’s some component or something else that I’m missing.

Hopefully, Weisshaupt would have what she needed. Perhaps something in the Archives that had been missed. But she wanted to go through Soldier’s Peak first, stop by its libraries and go over Avernus’ notes. He’d kept himself alive well past his prime, and, with her and Alistair’s Callings fast approaching, she was in constant fear. The Blight would not take them as it had so many others.

[daughter-of-the-prophet]

Morrigan (Tv Tropes “Origins”)

Absolute Cleavage: Combined nicely with Sideboob.

Abusive Parents: Being raised by Flemeth definitely qualifies. Particularly heartbreaking is the story of how as a young girl she stole a golden mirror, as she had never been given beautiful gifts, only practical ones. She ran back to the Wilds with it held tightly in her hands for fear she would drop it, only for Flemeth to find out and smash it against a wall.

Ambiguous Disorder: Likely due to her upbringing, she displays several signs consistent with Antisocial Personality Disorder.

Animal Motifs: Being a Shapeshifter, this is to be expected.

Shale comments that Morrigan resembles a bird, particularly the way she gazes at people.

And, as noted below, she does have a rather magpie-ish interest in jewelry.

Some have compared her attitude to that of a cat.

Sten knows a viper when he sees one.

Ascend to a Higher Plane of Existence: She passes through an Eluvian to a place that is neither Thedas nor the Fade. It is impossible to know at this time if this is simply another dimension or another Plane of Existence.

Bad Powers, Bad People: The most ruthless and unpleasant of the companions, she starts off with spells tilted toward destroying things and screwing with people’s minds.

Because You Were Nice to Me: Ilona is the first friend Morrigan has ever had in her entire life.

Berserk Button: Morrigan greatly values freedom and hates it when people are imprisoned, such as Sten. Those who willingly submit to imprisonment - such as the Circle of Magi - earn even more of her contempt. Also, as a Vain Sorceress, she has another fear:

        Morrigan: "You… do not truly think I look as my mother does, do you?“ 

        Alistair: "Have you really been thinking about that all this time?”           Morrigan: "I am simply curious.“           Alistair: "And not insecure in the slightest, I’m sure.”

        Morrigan: "I think I look nothing like her.“           Alistair: "I don’t know. Give it a few hundred years and it’ll be a spot-on match.”

        Morrigan: "I said that I look nothing like her!“

        Alistair: “All right. Got it. Totally different. I see that now”

Black Widow/Death by Sex: She tends to respond to men hitting on her with threats of this sort. Like mother, like daughter.

Broken Bird: Has the detached, cynical personality, the troubled backstory, and the dark Gothic look. This is further reinforced by the mirror story, as well as some of her other dialogue, which suggests that Morrigan is secretly desperate for a connection with the outside world, but she doesn’t know how to go about it after years of Flemeth’s abusive upbringing.

Dark Action Girl: Combined with a Lady of Black Magic.

Dark is Not Evil: Subverted. When Ilona first encounters her, Morrigan muses about whether she’ll immediately assume she’s evil because she’s one of the (legendarily evil) Witches of the Wilds. Once she’s spent a little time on the team, though, she turns out to have a very nasty Darwinist streak and in the end, it turns out that she’s been assigned to help the Wardens solely to perform a dark ritual and capture the soul of the Archdemon for purposes unknown. She gets a little closer to playing this trope straight in the ending of Witch Hunt, given that she’s apparently had enough time to defrost a little further.

Interestingly enough, Morrigan is one of the more innocent and naive characters, having only ventured out of the wilds a few times and never truly interacting with anyone other than Flemeth. Moreover, her beliefs are a result of Flemeth conditioning her to think and act in this way as it is strongly hinted that this would make it easier for Flemeth to take Morrigan’s body.

Deadpan Snarker: She doesn’t get along Alistair really well. Thus their banter is highly snarky.

Defrosting Ice Queen: Throughout the story, Morrigan starts to consider Ilona as a friend to the point where she sees her as the sister she’s never had.

Depending on the Artist: Her facial structure tends to vary between official depictions. Compare this in-game screenshot with these two illustrations. She looks like an older version of her Origins self in Inquisition, which makes perfect sense since ten years have passed.

Deus Sex Machina: Though not used to titillate the audience, for once.

Disappeared Dad: Her biological father is unknown but is heavily implied to have been of Chasind origin, reinforced by the fact that more than one character has pointed out that she resembles a Chasind. Given Flemeth's penchant for killing her lovers, it's unlikely he survived the encounter.

Druid: A bit of a Deconstruction of the type. While not fond of cities, she doesn't go on about it. Though she's clearly a Social Darwinist, she doesn't go out of her way to try to get anyone killed but Flemeth, and that only after she realizes that Flemeth's working on killing her. She's clearly modeled after the D&D druids but doesn't care for such notions as balance.

Eerie Pale-Skinned Brunette: The first half of which is odd, considering she has spent most of her life outdoors.

Even Evil Has Standards: Morrigan immediately expresses disgust that Sten has been caged like an animal in Lothering to serve as darkspawn chow by the "mercy" of the Chantry. Though he did kill innocent people, the story makes it clear that being captured by the darkspawn is one of the most horrible fates imaginable that nobody deserves.

Even Evil Has Loved Ones: Morrigan is not exactly one of the good guys, but while she and Flemeth argue and snipe at each other, it's clear she cares for her mother very much.

Evil Cannot Comprehend Good: The very idea of acting altruistically seems to be both alien and offensive to her for most of her time in the group, presumably due to Flemeth's teachings.

Evil Counterpart: Could be considered this to Wynne.

Femme Fatale:

She has a two-part dialogue with Sten in which they speak about the Qunari act.

Multiple instances where she talks about women only needing to bat their eyelashes to get men to do what they want.

The Friend Nobody Likes: And vice versa. The only people who get along with her to any degree are Zevran, Brutus, and Ilona.

Graceful Ladies Like Purple: She's a Lady of Black Magic who mostly wears purple and black. Violet is often emphasized with her in official artist's depictions, as well as occasionally being the color of her magic.

Hates Being Touched: Well, at least when it comes to simple greetings. Morrigan's just not a handshake person; she doesn't in the least understand the need for it.

Hollywood Atheist: Not so much in the reasons for her non-belief, which are fairly realistic, but in that her atheism goes along with being selfish, misanthropic, and actively contemptuous of religious people.

Hot Witch: Lampshaded, not that it's all that unusual for the setting.

Impossibly Cool Clothes: The blouse of her 'robes' are loose and draping from the shoulders and down the front, yet has a laced cinch at the back. It's possible but difficult to make and impractical to wear. Especially implausible as most of what she knew about humans came from observation, but there are no role models shown for her design.

The Robes of Possession (which presumably belong to Flemeth) share the same design.

Ineffectual Loner: Morrigan’s not a “people” person. In camp, her tent is placed away from all the others, and she has her own private campfire where only Ilona bothers to visit her.

Insufferable Genius: According to Alistair, who tries to use a Chantry-related question to mock her for it.

Jerkass: Almost all the time. As noted above, the only people who seem to get along with her are Zevran, Brutus, and Ilona.

Lady of Black Magic: Well-spoken, cunning, and evil, she has a look of wild elegance and favors very destructive spells.

Licked by the Dog: By Brutus, of course. In Witch Hunt, she’s actually rather pleased at how happy he is to see her.

Love Redeems: Morrigan’s personality during her appearance in Dragon Age: Inquisition was likely the result of Ilona befriending her. She behaves with much more warmth and compassion.

Magic Pants: Whenever Morrigan strips down to her underwear for any reason, she's always wearing a white bra and panties, even though she clearly doesn't wear a bra with her standard outfit.

Her original concept art, on the other hand, depicts her wearing a bra underneath her robes.

Meaningful Name: The Morrigan was a shapeshifting Celtic deity of war and death, but she averts the trope since the lead writer said that Morrigan is named after a character of a friend of his and all similarities with the Celtic goddess are coincidental, as they are with Morgan le Fay.

.Seems the outfit designers didn't get that memo. The crow feathers on her shoulder are symbolic of the other Morrigan.

In-universe, she seems to be named after a legendary Avvar warlord famed for her powers of seduction as well as her skills as a fighter. Given what Flemeth sent her to do, this was probably an intentional reference on her part.

Nature Hero: An unconventional Evil Counterpart of the standard version. Instead of a kindly Friend to All Living Things, she lacks compassion for anything barring a scant few exceptions, embraces social Darwinism, and doesn't hesitate to resort to murder if someone gets in her way. She's Nature Is Not Nice personified.

No Social Skills: She is largely tactless and ignorant of/annoyed by social mores; she considers shaking hands an offensive breach of her personal space, for example. This is because she was raised in the wilds, largely forbidden to interact with outside world.

No Sympathy: A big part of her character. Morrigan just doesn’t do empathy. She may surprise the audience every now and then, however - once befriended, she genuinely cares about Ilona and her feelings, expressing sympathy over the death of Ilona’s mother and having girl talks with her.

No, You: Notably in one of her conversations with Alistair:

     Alistair: "So let's talk about your mother, for a moment..."

     Morrigan: "I'd rather talk about your mother."  

     Alistair: "But there's nothing to talk ab— And besides, isn't your mother a scary witch who lives in the middle of a forest? Much more interesting."  

     Morrigan: "To you, perhaps. You would find the moss growing upon a stone interesting."

Not Good with People: She freely admits that due to her time in the Korcari Wilds, she's better at understanding animals than people.

Not So Different: To Flemeth.

Oblivious Guilt Slinging: Ilona unknowingly invokes this in Morrigan after befriending her. It doesn't stop Morrigan from following through with her true objectives, but it's clear that she feels guilty about it.  However, when she finally reveals her true intentions to Ilona, instead of getting angry at her, Ilona understands and holds no hard feelings towards her. 

Odd Friendship: Any friendship she forms, given her complete lack of social skills. It's especially notable with Ilona.

Only Friend: Morrigan admits that Ilona is the first friend she's ever had and that she views her almost as a sister.

Pet the Dog: She apologizes to Ilona for her jerkass tendencies and admits that she appreciates her friendship.

In Witch Hunt, she practically does this literally. When Ilona finally catches up to her, both Morrigan and Brutus are quite happy to see each other and she even cracks a rare smile.

At the Lothering Chantry, when Ilona asks the revered mother for her blessing, Morrigan respectfully kneel along with the rest of the party. Contrast this with her usual dismissive attitude towards the Chantry and religious belief in general.

When Ilona admits that her mother was killed during an attack on her family’s castle, Morrigan responds with genuine sympathy for her loss.

Pre-Climax Climax: With Alistair in order to conceive a child to complete a dark ritual that would prevent either him or Ilona from dying after slaying the Archdemon.

Raised as a Host: After finding Flemeth’s grimoire she becomes convinced this was her mother’s intent for her and asks Ilona to kill Flemeth for her.

Raven Hair, Ivory Skin: She has pale skin and black hair, and a few characters often comment that she’s very beautiful.

Sequel Hook: You just know the child she conceives with Alistair at the end is going to show up again. And of course, he does — in Inquisition.

Sideboob

The Smart Guy

Social Darwinist: Flemeth raised her to be a pretty severe example of this. As a result, Morrigan believes that people who can’t solve their own problems without help are worth less than nothing. It actually explains many of Morrigan’s more Stupid Evil tendencies. Perhaps the best example is in the “Broken Circle” quest, where she insists Ilona should leave the Mages to their fate, claiming that their current plight is their own fault, for a) agreeing to be caged in the Tower in the first place and b) not being strong enough to stop Uldred before things got out of hand.

Stalker with a Test Tube: Her real reason for joining the party is that she needs to become pregnant by a Grey Warden in order to complete a dark ritual.

The Starscream:  To Flemeth, albeit out of self-defense rather than ambition.

Stupid Evil: Often falls into this. She seems to take the position that helping others is universally wrong, even if such aid is explicitly rendered solely on the condition of later repayment (and even if the person being helped is absolutely critical to stopping the Blight).

The Tease: Towards Sten and even occasionally Alistair.

Token Evil Teammate: Morrigan actively disapproves of acting selflessly and helping others.

Too Many Belts: Her outfit features a skirt that appears to be made out of rags and strips of cloth stitched together with belts.

Took a Level in Kindness: Takes one over the course of the story after Ilona befriends her. Similarly, despite her constant irritation at Brutus, she broadly smiles upon seeing him again at the end of Witch Hunt.

This follows her into Inquisition, where Morrigan comes across as warmer and more compassionate most likely because of Ilona befriending her.

Troll: A large portion of her conversations with other companions is this, particularly with Sten.

      Sten: "Paarshara! Why do you pester me?“ 

     Morrigan: "Because ‘tis amusing, that is why”

Tsundere: Oh yes. Type A, mostly tsuntsun, but Ilona’s kindness brings out the deredere (as much as she is capable of, anyway).

She eventually apologizes for her behavior in a very roundabout Tsundere-ish manner.

Tykebomb: One of many raised by Flemeth. Unusually, she ends up defusing herself to a certain extent, planning Flemeth’s death the moment she realizes her end use; it’s not until Witch Hunt that she finally slips her leash altogether, though. Temporarily, anyway.

Vain Sorceress: She’s a magpie when it comes to jewelry.

Verbal Tic: Almost all of her dialogue is spoken in a sing-song rhythmic style, which is not that noticeable at first but becomes far more apparent the more characters talks to her. She also has a noticeable fondness for the word “'tis,” and she uses the “over” instead of “too,” as in “overlong and "overmuch”.

Voluntary Shapeshifting: Her specialization.