#but instead I am like a fortress in that I am well built and stable and not easily knocked over

[artificial-condition]

Having a gap year was really great for me because it was the first time in my adult life that I was able to just sit with myself. Figure myself out. Work on myself. Even though I had been an adult for several years, I feel like I really matured in my year of nothing. I now feel much more firm in who I am, even with opposition; I have always been a big pushover, letting other people do whatever they wanted and letting my desires go to the side, but now I am much more likely to assert what I want and tell people no. I’ll just do and be without analyzing what others want or expect of me, and it’s so refreshing to let that go. People really do grow in the cracks

[vacantgodling]

please tell me more about kiskkaddon because I am permanently in love with this word

as always thank u for indulging me <3 kiskkaddon is actually one of the parts of the world that i know less about BUT i will try to tell u everything i currently know... just know i may come back to this and tweak and update this probably in the next few months LMAO.

so, kiskkaddon, like diisai is across the eastern sea... which is actually to the west of the main terranean continent. i actually don't know what the main land mass is called but i'll get to naming that eventually. but for reference its located up north here, in the yellow.

the reason it's yellow? welp, kiskkaddon is known as a desert. the name itself translates to something like "the all swallowing desert" in old aegean--a language i promise you i'll never develop but just know that it exists LMAO. despite its 2 land bridges that connect it to both diisai and to the main continent, the northern land bridge is actually cut off and barely accessible by the looming mountain range of the north, and the southern bridge, while accessible, is not easy to get to due to yknow. the all swallowing desert.

the reason that it is called this is because the desert itself is consistently expanding and growing more and more intense as time goes on; which does relate to the fact that it receieves much of phyddione's (or the sun's) direct light and due to some other shit, there is an unchecked deity of the desert who will become a book 2 or another side story problem. the kisks in general worship many of the same gods as mainland terrae, however just like diisai, they do have some of their own traditions after a few thousand years of isolation from their cousins.

how did kiskkaddon become isolated? well, i'll try to bullet point tl;dr this as much as possible.

after the day of fissures in the spring of 478ir, the nomads were forced out of the fortress city of eros.

they began to make their way up north on the guidance of their oracle and reached a mid-continental mountain range in winter 479 and were then instructed to ascend the mountains to escape the monsters at their heels

as they ascended, they ran across a narrow mountain pass but as they crossed, it collapsed resulting in the deaths of a few hundred people (most notably princess pinella dia)

this also separated the back half of the group from the front half.

instead of waiting or trying to cross this treacherous territory, the lieutenant leader of that company decided to lead them back down the mountain pass and into the wilds. they have no idea how to reutrn to eros, and they can't follow their king into the mountains. so with no oracle, they begin to traverse the wilds on their own. losing many numbers, but eventually making their way up north to the northern mountains, skirting them, and coming into the desertland of kiskkaddon.

once they entered the deset they were unable to leave it, and thus had to adapt.

some other general cultural notes:

character wise, currently there's only 4 characters that i've developed in some capacity from here: jace kaganoff, miki kaganoff, vivo kagaar, and raaga chaar.

because the southern company of nomads were built up of the hardiest warries to protect from attacks at the flank and to protect the elderly and children who could not keep up with the front of the procession, thousands of years later, kisk still has a staunch hardy warrior culture. their warriors are cutthroat and tend to be larger than the average terranean both in height and width.

they have a love-hate relationship with the desert, especially in present times. as the labyrinth grows more restless, it further affects the deserts of kisk (though no one has made this connection yet). more and more kisks are leaving their homeland to try and seek more stable lives on the mainland, but it is a trecherous journey.

like eros, they have a unique situation regarding sex, love, bonds. they too practice extreme monogamy but this is for survival reasons: MIRANKA to them is known as his alter deity, RANKIMA, the god of survival among other things (as for many years they had no knowledge of the mainland's affairs and how the god of relationships came to be). it is known to them that having magic grants them a better chance of survival, so high monogamy and getting Big B bonded before RANKIMA will grant them magical prowess that will better assist themselves, their children, and their community to brave the arid desert. so the loose attitude mainland terraneans and diisaians have is like. not the thing for them bc its a matter of life and death.

(aka this is why jace and miki's relationship is such a mess)

culture wise i definitely draw a lot on the subsaharan or desert vibes that many cultures have. there's also definitely a code of honor. they are semi-nomadic people and tend to settle in one place during the "winter" months (which for them means the dunes do not move as much) but tend to move more during the summer

also like diisai, the monsters of these areas were not herded into the labyrinth, and therefore still have monsters roam among them. their culture is also a high monster killing machine (because again, survival is the most important thing to them) and scientists and researchers of silverkeep have noticed that kisk warriors tend to have a higher natural immunity to beast posion, similar to the hunters of eros, which they are currently exploring.

i'm sure there's more stuff, but tbh i don't know HELLA a lot about kisk like i said. even this RANKIMA stuff is a new development for me because i keep expanding the lore. but rambling at people tends to help fire the synapses lmao so thank u for asking/listening :3

[powdermelonkeg]

Hyrule Brochure: A Potential for BotW’s Future

Hyrule’s map in BotW is pretty sparse as far as cities go. Yes, it’s got more than any other Zelda game, but it also has like, 90% of its map being pure dead space.

So I decided to play around and make what I imagine Hyrule would look like, as far as cities go, if it were allowed to properly rebuild and not get totally wrecked by Ganon again.

Credit to Eragon2589 on DeviantArt for the free-to-use map icons. I love these little buttons so much.

So, these are the canon towns we get in BotW; Hateno, Lurelin, Tarrey, Zora’s Domain, Goron City, Korok Forest, Rito Village, Yiga Hideout, and Gerudo Town. I’m counting Yiga Hideout as a town because if the Yiga were a little nicer, it WOULD be marked one.

Adding the various stables on makes the place look MUCH less empty, but still; what can we do with this?

Well, I’ve spent the last several days locating all the significant ruins and landmarks, with one or two extra things thrown in, that I think would make this place much more populated.

Maps are free to use if you want them, btw. Have fun!

As a general rule of thumb, I want to make the towers and stables their own cities. The towers are a good landmark and beacon of safety, and the stables have all the building blocks to start building up a village.

If I’m particularly inspired, I’ll give some background on what the town is/does!

Starting off with the Rito! Their village has grown into a town, and the stable at its foothill is its own village now. I called it “fledgeling” because that’s where the Rito and Hylians would intermingle most, so the Rito aren’t exactly flying around here.

Beacon City is built around Tabantha Tower; the Rito have turned it into a sort of lighthouse, reflecting light off into the distance to help guide nighttime fliers home. Because of this, it’s a very popular stop for mail carriers, and where they go, development and cultural mixing follows.

Kaysa Town is built around Great Fairy Kaysa’s fountain; it’s a popular tourist attraction, and she gets plenty of offerings, so win-win!

For the Gorons, we’ve only got two more cities: Silversmith Village and Din’s Spire. Silversmith is built around the culture in the southern mines, and it has down-the-road access to the Goron Hot Springs. Din’s Spire is less of a town and more of a landmark, due to the sheer cliffs all around it, but the huge (and notably not in the burning death zone) hot spring lake makes it a popular rest stop for people on their way through.

I decided not to rebuild the northern mines; they’re pretty busted up and lava soaked, so my assumption is that they were abandoned either due to hazards or due to the ore being stripped out.

Korok Forest wouldn’t change much, besides the Royal Family declaring it a protected area. The Koroks don’t seem to have much interest in expansion, and they, as far as I know, don’t live in houses.

Gerudo Territory is MUCH more expansive than the others so far, and with good reason.

Gerudo Town itself is now Gerudo City, and the Kara Kara Bazaar has grown into a town. Canyon Stable has developed a village (mostly full of Gerudo husbands so they don’t have to travel a million miles just to see their families).

The Gerudo have control of one of the towers in their region, and the town built around it is Overlook Town. It mostly serves as a training grounds for young Gerudo warriors.

The City of the Seven developed when the Seven Heroine statues were recovered and restored; the town around them was built to honor them, and then it got a LOT of foot traffic from those wanting to see the legendary statues.

Tera Town rose up much in the same way Kaysa Town did up in Rito territory, centered around the Great Fairy Fountain.

Mesa Village and West Gerudo Town are both smaller Gerudo settlements; West Gerudo sprung up out of access to snowmelt from the Gerudo Highlands, and Mesa Village, because of its relative safety from Molduga and access to oasis water.

Finally, Gerudo Valley, in reference to Ocarina of Time. This town is a Gerudo-only zone, and is more a fortress than a town. It exists both to keep an eye on the Yiga and to gain control of the mountain pass, making people go through Canyon Village to get to Gerudo instead of avoiding Gerudo customs.

Speaking of the Yiga, they’ve taken two new spots for themselves; Gerudo Tower, which they’ve renamed Kohga Tower in honor of their late Master, and Banana Labyrinth, which serves as their highest security area. Imagine if you’d had to go through the LABYRINTH to get the Thunder Helm back.

Up next we’ve got the Zora. Truthfully, their territory spans as long as Zora river and WELL into the ocean, but these are the only cities that, technically, a Hylian with adequate gear can enter.

Mipha’s Landing is an above-water city built expressly for doing trade. It got its name from the late Mipha; since the tower reaches up into the sky, it was hoped that someday, her spirit would sit atop it for a rest and see all that her people had been able to do thanks to her sacrifice.

Lakebed Village is in Lake Hylia, and it’s actually a slowly-repopulating Lakebed Temple, from Twilight Princess. Meanwhile, Great Bay City is a port town above water and an aquatic metropolis below, full of music and dance and exotic wares.

And finally, Hylians.

Hoo boy.

I’ve split this up region by region but

THIS is how many living spots they’ve got.

Silver stars indicate military towns. Red stars indicate military outposts.

I USE THE TERM MILITARY VERY LOOSELY HERE. Hyrule, since it doesn’t interact with its neighbors, only has the Yiga and the various monsters to fight against. Anything labeled “military” means that it’s staffed by royal employ, meaning knights and Sheikah and the like.

Let’s start with Akkala. The northeast labyrinth has been converted into an emergency bunker, in case Calamity strikes and people need a safe place to hide. Not only is it difficult to break into, it also has a completely empty lower level that’s PERFECT for long-term seige.

City Tempest got its name for being near-constantly wracked by storms. Despite this, though, it remains a popular vacation spot for people who don’t mind a little rain; the Skull Lake and the giant flowers are worth it.

Valley Town rose up out of both East Akkala Stable and Robbie’s workshop. It doesn’t get too much foot traffic, but it doesn’t really need to.

Midna Village, I built where the ruins of Shadow Hamlet are. I figured it was a fitting name, and the area is almost constantly covered in the shadow of Death Mountain.

Four Brothers’ Base is a knight outpost that’s up extremely high, spanning huge bridges between the four Tingle isles.

Then Parapa Palace, in reference to Zelda II: Adventure of Link, was built in place of the Akkala Citadel and functions as a mini Hyrule Castle + Castle Town. In real life, monarchs would have several palaces to go between, kind of like how well-off people nowadays would have a summer home. So, I followed that trend! This is Zel’s summer palace.

And you guys know what Tarrey Town is. Although interestingly, as it expands, it goes vertical into the stone column it was built on.

Onto Central Hyrule.

Camp Rauru is training camp and lodging for new knights. Rebonae Village and Kasuto City were made out of the Wetland and Riverside stables respectively, though Kasuto (also an Adventure of Link reference) gets substantially more foot traffic due to being on the way from Castle Town to Dueling Peaks.

Outset Town got its name, lore-wise, from the fact that it’s the first bit of land Link from BotW visited after leaving the Great Plateau, and meta-wise, because it’s the starting point for Wind Waker Link.

Aquame City surrounds the Coliseum, which is how it grew to be so popular. The grand stage holds sparring matches and various other shows regularly, and it’s a pleasant boat trip from Castle Town to get there.

Saria Town was built out of the old exchange ruins, and it’s in walking distance of the ruined Sage Temple—which, at this point in time, would have been rebuilt—and its existence is both an AoL reference and an OoT one (but mostly AoL, I’ve kind of fallen in love with its map).

New Mabe is where you can find the new Lon Lon Ranch! The ruins there are actually called the Mabe Town Ruins in game, and they’re right by the Ranch Ruins!

Eldin’s pretty sparse as far as Hylian towns go. It’s got Gut Check Camp, where Sheikah train for endurance and elemental resistance, and Windfall Town, a place that sees a LOT of gemstones pass through, freshly mined. That includes rupee ore, mind you!

Faron Province is a little more spaced out, due to the nature of the region. Lurelin’s grown since BotW, becoming a trading bay; meanwhile Cora Lake’s Sheikah Tower has expanded into Parache Town, and the Highland Stable has become Malanya Village. Both of those locations are VERY fond of horses, and they’re a bit competitive, especially during archery season.

Ordona Hamlet is a tiny village tucked away into the middle of Faron. It came about due to the Lakeside Stable, and it’s named that because I am STILL salty that the Zeldevs didn’t put an Ordon Village reference in the game.

Eventide Outpost is more of a testing ground for boats than anything particularly significant, population-wise. The even tides that gave the isle its name make it an ideal location to work out the kinks in new watercraft (and occasionally, the lieutenant in charge of that base demonstrates how to launch a raft into the sky with octo balloons).

Hebra’s the most militarized area of Hyrule, and ideally, it functions as a reserve of men and tech in case Calamity rises again. If there’s anything that BotW’s era learned, it’s to never underprepare for Gann’s return.

Fort Lomei is a converted base, just like the Banana Labyrinth is to the Yiga. This one, though, is patrolled diligently by knights who use daily-changing codes, and it’s impossible to navigate without the locals’ help.

Fort Pikida is situated in that weird stone cavern-y area, and it’s a supply stach and Hebran monster patrol site. It’s the soldiers there’s job to make sure that the Lynels that like to roam the region don’t get too close to residential areas.

Hia Miu Outpost is a training spot for knights sent to the Hebra region; any new soldier to the area has to prove they can handle themselves by going into the Hia Miu shrine and taking on the Major Test of Strength Trial. (Fun fact, did you know that the X-test-of-strength trials reset themselves every blood moon?)

Snowpeak Fortress exists both because it makes a fantastic secondary base for the Hyrulean royals to plan, and because i am once again salty about the lack of Twilight Princess in this game.

Sturnida Resort is built around hot springs! It’s a nice spot for people living around Rito Town and Fledgling Village to take a vacation without having to trek all the way across the country to do it.

Snowfield City came from Snowfield Stable, and it’s the Windfall of Hebra; it sees a LOT of people coming in and out of the region, and the view of the northern lights you can get from there? You’d be hard-pressed to find a Hylian that didn’t have it on their bucket list.

New Tabantha was built on the ruined spot of the original Tabantha Village; you can visit there in-game! It’s a quiet town that raises highland sheep for a living, and its team won the Hebran Triathlon three whole years in a row.

Then, the Tanagar Restricted Zone. If you’ve ever been there, you know EXACTLY why it’s restricted.

Most of the Guardians inside have been dealt with, but the ruined temple remains a hazard testing ground for new tech. It’s off limits to everyone but those with the HIGHEST clearance; I’m talking a direct letter from Zelda herself.

The Thyphlo Secret Camp is exactly what it says on the tin. It’s a place for Hyrulean lieutenants to meet for top-secret missions, and it’s one of those places that you need to be SERIOUSLY high rank to even KNOW about.

Over on the edge of Lanayru, we’ve got New Goponga, built where the old Goponga ruins are, and the Crenel Garrison. The Garrison was built to take care of the Lizalfos problems in the waterways, keeping it safe for Hylians and Zora travelers alike. Goponga, on the other hand, is what Lurelin was in game; nice, friendly, and centered around fishery.

In Necluda, we’ve got New Deya where old Deya was ruined (I think BotW Link was born in old Deya!), Watchtower Village built around the lakeside of the Dueling Peaks tower, and then Dueling Peaks City, a HUGE trade hub that was once the Dueling Peaks stable.

Kakariko Village is now a Town, Hateno has grown into a full blown trade harbor, and a tiny village has started to form around the Hateno Tower, making Firly Overlook.

But what I most love is the City of Hylanay.

Back in the game, it was the ruins of the Lanayru Promenade. So I had the promenade rebuilt, then people moved in around it, and now, Hylanay’s basically Hyrulean Venice! I want to visit it.

On the Great Plateau, we’ve got Aboda Town, named after Spirit Tracks’ Aboda Village in reference to the starting point in each game. This Town has access to the original Temple of Time, but because of the nature of the isolated plateau, it doesn’t see a lot of new faces often.

Over around Thundra, we’ve got Tanagar Village overlooking the canyon, built out of the old Tabantha Stable. The village actually builds downwards into the canyon; people have windows carved right out of the cliff face!

Thundra Village is built into the rocky slopes surrounding Thundra Plateau and the Ridgeland Tower. Their houses are built in the shelter of the giant mushroom things that grow so well in the area, and they’re famous for their signature dish of escargot.

The Serenne Exchange is up north, encompassing both the old Serenne Stable and the Maritta exchange ruins. You can buy practically ANYTHING there; if ever there was a supermarket in Hyrule, it would be right there.

The Royal Lab was rebuilt out of its ruins post Calamity, and it’s directed by Purah, who still hasn’t cured her immortality yet. It’s not uncommon to hear explosions as you pass by that place.

And then Camp Rutile is a small observational outpost, meant to keep track of the activity on Satori Mountain. Supposedly, the mountain’s health reflects the state of the rest of the kingdom, so the researchers assigned there are tasked with monitoring it EXTREMELY closely.

And Hyrule Castle. It’s Hyrule Castle.

Now completely bolted into the ground! :D

If we put all these locations together, we get a very nice, very well populated Hyrule, with LOTS to see. This is how I would design the future of BotW’s Hyrule.

Thanks for reading!

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Battle of Brackhill Keep Part 1: The approaching storm

Don’t forget to come see my on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord

The Guvian war machine had conquered the Kelro Cluster in roughly a month and with it had sent shockwaves through all of human controlled space.

Bearing the strength of a tsunami on a clear summer’s day Guvian needle ships penetrated the Gaspar, Eden V, and Hegemony systems without a single alarm being raised before the first troop transports landed on the various planets and engaged in ground warfare with local defense forces. No declaration was made, no cries of protest for some actions the humans had committed against the Guvian people, not even a boastful gloat from one of their military commanders. The only sound humans heard was the sound of gunfire and the endless screams to follow.

With the entire cluster firmly under their control the Guvian military sped with all haste to the last remaining bastion of human controlled space in the Kelro Cluster with the intent to continue their campaign into human territory on to the very doorstep of humanity’s homeworld.  Only a single obstacle remained that stood between the Guvian war fleets and the rest of human colonized space. The O’Brain class space fortress better known as "Brackhill Keep”. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From the moment the first distress calls had come in, Amalia Keller knew this day would come. She stood just above five and a half feet tall and though her slim figure gave the appearance of frailty she was in fact toned to near peek physical perfection that only a human working out in the increased gravity fields of the fortresses workout chambers could provide. Her hair was of a blonde so rich one could mistake it for being pure gold and her eyes were a dark silver that in the light appeared to dazzle like a starry nights sky.

Inside her command center aboard the space fortress Brackhill Keep v she had watched the surrounding systems of the Kelro Cluster fall one by one. Green trading routes marked for safety shifting to a crimson red of blood slowly drawing closer to her day by day.

Even without the fortresses analysts to tell her she knew that the Guvian’s would eventually need to strike the fortress; for it was here that the only stable jump point could be made to reach the rest of humanity. Sure, if the Guvians were crazy enough they could technically make a jump from anywhere inside the Kelro Cluster, but with the gravitational pull from not only the surrounding planets but the star itself they risk their jump being altered  and sending them lightyears off course. That was not even taking into account the gravity storms and solar radiation waves that filled the void of space between clusters that if not safely plotted through could shatter a battleship class vessel like it was made of cardboard.

So when the initial settlers of humanity that stumbled upon the Kelro Cluster had built the foundations of the fortress to maintain a safe line of communication to human territory; an eternal guardian to watch over the realms of men.

Over the generations Brackhill Keep had been expanded upon and built outward like a spider weaving a web of ever increasing size. Indeed the fortress itself appeared as a spider web with eight large outreaching arms spreading in all directions housing numerous docking bays, ship umbilical cords, and weapons ports along the entire length of each arm; ready to swat aside any fool hardy enough to push passed.

Amalia had sent numerous calls for aid back to Sol for reinforcements and though she had received word that fresh armadas were on their way they would not reach her fortress in time.

She was coordinating her commanders when a sudden disturbance drew here attention away from the most recent tactical positions of the enemy fleet.

With a loud groaning the massive door to the command center slowly rolled open and a flustered arms man stepped inside.

“Pardon the intrusion ma’am,” the arms man said followed by a crisp salute to which Amalia returned in kind, “but some of our guests wish to speak with you.”

“They are not guests, arms man.” Amalia said, her stern tone well known to her crew as the first warning to tread carefully. “Guests would imply they were invited into our home.” She picked up her mug of tea and took a soft sip from it, the warm liquid returning her to full alertness as it moved through her. “Call them what they are.”

“Which is?” the arms man replied, stifling a cough as he spoke.

“Parasites.” Her response drew a few chuckles from the surrounding crew but a casual glance from their officers made them return to whatever mundane tasks they had been performing before.

As the Guvian forces had swept across the cluster those with jump ships had quickly fled the cluster with as many valuables as possible while merchant fleets emptied their store houses or charged hefty travel fees to those that wished safe passage. The ships remaining in system were only capable of system to system travel and had fled in the face of the Guvian war machine; and right into the dock arms of Brackhill Keep.

Two of the eight arms of the fortress had been converted into refugee holds which now held some 50-100,000 souls. While the fortress was more than capable of holding such an influx of people it had forced the defense units of those arms to either condense or relocate to the remaining arms. Friction had been growing between the military crew and the refugees for some time now with the fighter wing pilots in particular raising several petitions to allow them to reclaim their launching bays.

On one hand Amalia was sympathetic to their plight at being forced from their homes, but on the other she felt anger that by being forced to relocate her fortresses defenses there now was a section of the fortress left vulnerable to attack.

“One of the, uh, parasites” the arms man continued awkwardly, “demands to speak with you and will not take no for an answer.”

“Oh do they?” The crew began looking again looked more nervous as Amalia’s sarcastic tone was the second strike many of them feared. “And you allow this civilian to make demands of your commander, do you?”

All eyes turned to the arms man who now shuffled nervously in place as he met the full gaze of his commander. He flashed a soft smile and surprisingly shrugged his shoulders under her gaze. “If you had given me permission to my own devices ma’am I would not be speaking with you; I would be instead calling the janitorial services to clean up the mess and the infirmary to come collect a wounded civilian rather than wasting your time.”

The silence of the room was so consuming that one could almost hear the thumbing of the building sized generator that powered the fortress some thirty decks below them. Thankfully it did not last long as Amalia laughed and the crew took a collective sigh of relief.

“Your initiative does you credit.” She said as her previous bad mood faded some. “What is your name?”

The arms man stood at attention once more. “Arms man Jerric Folber of the core protection unit ma’am.”

She waved him down to be at ease once more before continuing. “You may let in the parasite now Mr. Folber.”  

Jerric saluted once more and turned to leave but was forestalled by Amalia. “But do stand at the ready outside after you have let them in; I may be in need of your initiative.”

As the arms man left it was only moments later that the sound of loud clanking could be heard to which Amalia’s previous bad mood had returned.

The clanking drew nearer and became clear it was from several pairs of overly opulent shoes from a gaggle of equally overdressed hangers on.

The man at the front of this gaggle was Boyar Freedman, founder and ceo of Freedman Enterprises which was one of the largest manufacturers in the cluster; or it was until the Guvian ground forces pounded their headquarters to dust in the Gaspar system when their private security forces attempted to defend the corporate headquarters. As reckless as it had sounded for a corporation to stand up to a galactic military Freedman Enterprises employed a large number of security forces to protect their various locations in the cluster and with most of them being former military Mr. Freedman essentially had a private army at his beck and call. The defining difference had been that the security forces had grown lax policing civilians for so long and was not prepared to face the well prepared Guvian ground forces.

After losing his corporate headquarters Boyar had fled the planet with the remainder of his security forces and had sulked all the way to Amalia’s fortress in hope of protection and an available seat on the next outbound jump ship. Amalia summarized that the corporate stooge was here to talk about the later as the wobbly Freedman came before her.

“Ms. Keller, I demand to know why the jump ship has not returned yet.”

Boyar’s voice was rather high pitched for his appearance giving it an almost comical tone. Were it under any other situation Amalia may very well have laughed directly into his face but for now she was debating on taking up Mr. Folber’s offer to watch him beat this man to near death.

“Your delay in keeping me abreast of the flight schedule for jump ships is completely unacceptable!” Boyar puffed out his chest somewhat in what he no doubt thought would make him more intimidating when in actuality made him look like a puffer fish. He was a rather short man, standing at just four feet tall, but what he lacked in height he compensated for with width as he was severely overweight and were it not for the exceptional skills of his tailor he would have appeared as nothing more than humpty dumpty’s plumper cousin.

Seeing Amalia with her back to him still only seemed to enrage Boyar even more. “Look at me when I am talking to you!”

Amalia set down her mug and calmly tapped her right index finger against the tactical display table. The nearby crew became increasingly anxious as they knew that once she began tapping her finger it was a countdown to an outburst whoever it was directed at would not find pleasant.

“Mr. Freedman.” Amalia said, not even bothering to look at the man. “I have indulged your presence in my fortress as a matter of honor from human to human in time of need; but should you ever attempt to address me in such a manner again…” she turned to face him and fixed Boyar with the a gaze that could have turned suns cold as ice “..I will drag you myself to the nearest airlock and launch you into the void myself.”

Boyar’s mouth opened and closed several times in silence like a slack eyed fish before clamming shut.

Not wasting a breath Amalia continued. “For matters of security the schedule of jump ships will be kept on a need to know basis and as of this moment you do not need to know.”

“But-“Boyar protested before being silenced by a raised hand from Amalia.

“I will inform you when the next jump ship arrives when I deem it necessary.” She casually waved her hand and nearby arms men began approaching and herding the gaggle out of the room.

Boyar gritted his teeth but said nothing as he stormed off. When he was gone one of her bridge officers came over to her.

“Are you sure it is wise to be in such an unforgiving nature with them?” they queried cautiously.

She nodded as she tapped several keys on the table and the next star chart appeared. “You need to keep them in line and remind them that out there they may be big shots, but in here they are worth just as much as the person next to you.”

She slapped them on the shoulder after that and pointed back to the table.

“Come, we have a battle to prepare for.”

[narniagiftexchange]

                                   THE SUMMER NARNIAN GIFT EXCHANGE.

                                   for @luxaofhesperides by @awkwardbookishgay.

LOVE APPEARS AT THE STRANGEST TIMES. or when Caspian realizes he loves the members of the Pevensie family.

“Do you want to head down to the sea with us?” Peter’s voice interrupts Caspian’s analysis of battle plans, comparing and critiquing and trying to learn every strategy by heart. He looks up from his maps, eyebrows furrowed.

“Why? What are you doing?”

“Splashing around, making sandcastles, you know, seaside stuff.”

Caspian stares at him. “Why?”

“For fun. That’s what kids do- have fun.”

“I’m not a kid; I’m about to be crowned king. I don’t have time for fun!”

“I already am a king. We’re all rulers, but for better or worse, we’re kids too. And a little bit of joy is going to make you a better ruler than studying all those old papers.”

“Oh, and you’re the expert on that?”

“Actually, yes, I am!” Peter pauses and collects himself. “Listen, I’m handing you an olive branch. It’s just an afternoon at the sea. You’ve earned a little time off. You’re allowed to take it.”

Caspian eyes him suspiciously for a moment and sighs. He gathers his papers into a pile and stands. “Olive branch accepted.”

“I’ve got to get the girls. We’ll meet you down at the beach in ten minutes or so.”

Caspian makes his way to the beach, feet slipping through the sand. When he arrives, only Edmund is there, sitting in his drawers before a tower of sand.

“Is this what Peter called a sand castle?”

Edmund does not look up. “It’s going to be one. I’m glad you decided to come. Maybe with you working on his castle Peter might finally scrape a win.”

“Are the castles some type of siege practice?”

“Oh, no. That’d be a mess. We just try to make the best castle. Lucy judges and she can be a bit hard to predict. I figured I’d get a head start on the competition.”

“Which would be?”

“Pete and Su. We agreed if Peter could convince you to come, we’d build in pairs. And I’m afraid you’re on his team.”

Caspian sits down a few yards from Edmund. “Should we have a moat?”

Ed smiles. “You’re going to be good at this.”

The sound of giggles announces the arrival of the rest of the Pevensie siblings, who tumble through the sand in their underthings.

“You came!” Lucy calls, hair braided in a delicate crown.

Caspian smiles. “Your brother’s rather persuasive.”

“He’s High King for a reason,” Susan says.

“Don’t forget that he’s magnificent.” Lucy says, her voice a gruff parody of Peter’s.

“Not too magnificent at sand castles,” says Edmund.

Peter rubs his knuckles into Edmund’s scalp. “We’re going to win this time, just you wait.” He plops down next to Caspian and inspects the beginnings of a generous moat. “You make a promising start. But there’s no way Lucy will vote for us if we don’t have some towers.” Peter buries his hands in the sand and sets to work.

The sun is low in the northern sky when sand construction finally grinds to a halt. Peter waves to Lucy, who swims in from the surf.

“What have you built for me today?” she asks.

She starts her inspection at Edmund and Susan’s castle. Edmund says, “It’s equipped with high walls to keep out invaders and its place on a high sand dune gives it a clear defensive advantage.”

Caspian clears his throat as Lucy hums and approaches the second castle. “Now while our castle is by no means lacking in defense, our key concern was with its accessibility to Narnians of any form.”

“That’s why the moat enters the castle,” Peter adds, “Merpeople and nereids are welcomed here.”

Lucy turns to Susan and Edmund. “And how accessible is your castle?”

They exchange grimaces. “We didn’t really-“ Susan says, but Lucy interrupts her.

“Caspian and Peter win. Caspian, would you like to do the honors?”

Caspian turns to Peter. “What are the honors?”

“We get to demolish their castle.” He grins. “Kick the big tower first.”

Caspian smiles and takes a running start at the sandy pillars. His foot sends the largest one shattering into flecks. Peter follows after him, jumping into the mess, sending sand flying into the air. The whole fortress is gone in less than a minute, with more than a few groans from Edmund and Susan.

Peter sits up, sand in his hair and a massive smile on his face. “And now, my fellow monarchs, it is time for war!”

Caspian’s confusion doesn’t make it past his lips before he is doused in seawater. He turns to see an evilly grinning Susan, standing in the surf, hands cupped. “Time for revenge,” she cries, and splashes him again. He squawks, then crouches down into the tide and splashes her right back.

Caspian is splashed again from the side, and turns to see a smirking Peter.

“Treason!” he yells, “And from my own castle!” He runs and tackles Peter, pulling them both into the water.

The battle turns from warriors with sides to all out chaos as the sun slips below the horizon. Perhaps these children are monarchs, but ruling can wait until the morning.

————————

Caspian finally finds Susan in the stable, brushing a dapple-coated mare. He stands in the doorway for a moment, just watching the gentle queen. All at once, she seems heartbroken and content and achingly lonely. She’s captivating, an impressionist painting in the soft summer light.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” Caspian says, a transgression against the quiet.

Susan nods, not looking up from her horse’s mane. She sniffs, but says nothing. The silence stretches on again.

“You’re not coming back.”

Susan shakes her head. “This is it for me,” she whispers. “Narnia doesn’t want me anymore.”

Caspian takes a step back. “Of course we want you, you’re our queen.”

She runs her fingers through her hair. “I used to be. I live in England now, and it’s time I got used to it.”

“Won’t you give me a chance to say goodbye?”

“You can say your goodbyes in the morning. I’m taking one last ride.”

“Let me come with you.”

She finally looks up at him. “You’re some kind of idealist, aren’t you?”

“Is that a bad thing to be?”

She looks at the straw floor as if carrying words she doesn’t know how to release. “Meet me at the western gate. I’ll be waiting.” She climbs onto her horse and gallops past Caspian and out of the stable.

He watches her go for a moment before hustling to his horse’s stable and saddling up. In a few minutes, he rides out of the stable and towards Susan’s silhouette, sharp against the slowly darkening sky. He slows as he reaches her, but she spurs her horse into a gallop, leaving Caspian rushing to catch up.

He pulls up beside her well into the apple orchard, her hair flying out behind her, short in comparison to the last time she rode through these trees. “Are you trying to kill my horse?”

She smiles at him, a little bittersweet. “I’m no gentle queen tonight. Do try to keep up.” And again she pushes her horse faster, kicking up a cloud of dust as she plunges deeper into the woods.

Caspian chuckles and tears after her, winding between the trunks until he is utterly lost, following but never catching the far off queen. Her laughter carries on the wind, and she truly sounds gleeful. They ride between trees and through creeks, past cliffs and over stones.

Narnia is coming alive once more. A tree bends to rustle Caspian’s hair. A gust of petals waves to Susan, giggling in the warm breeze. Animals chatter in the distance. For this never ending moment, it is the golden age again. War and persecution and pain are gone. It is just Susan and Caspian and the horses and the woods and there is no past or future to be afraid of. Wind is rushing through their hair and the last rays of the sun are shining upon them and they are free.

And then the moment ends, as all moments must. Susan slows and Caspian pulls up beside her. She laughs again, but the reality has reached her eyes. She smiles. “Goodbye, Caspian. So much of my joy in being back in Narnia has been meeting you. You’ll be a good king.”

Caspian opens his mouth, but no words seem fit for the feeling in his chest. He just smiles and grasps her hand.

She wipes away a tear. Her voice breaks when she speaks again. “Now don’t remember me crying. We can both remember riding through the woods and just be happy. I want to be a happy memory.”

“You will be. For me and all of Narnia.”

She squeezes his hand and takes off again, back towards Cair Paravel. He will follow her, in a moment. But for now, he will revel in the sight of the last ride of Narnia’s gentle queen.

————————

“Do your stars have stories?” Edmund asks, as he and Caspian lie on the sun bleached deck of the Dawn Treader.

“Of course. They each have their own lives and such, just like us.”

Edmund makes a face. “Of course. I forget stars are alive in Narnia.”

Caspian rolls over to look at him. “Are all England’s stars dead?”

Edmund shakes his head. “More like never alive. They’re just great balls of fire.”

Caspian laughs. “That’s ridiculous.”

He shrugs. “It’s true. The sun’s a fireball too.”

“You live in such a fantastic world.”

Edmund scoffs. “I’m sure you wouldn’t think that if you lived there. Most of it’s just people like Eustace.”

Caspian cackles. “It can’t be all bad. Your stars have stories, don’t they? What kind of stories does fire have?”

“People make up stories about them; they’ve been doing it forever. They connected the dots to make pictures in the sky. Then they turned the pictures into stories of gods and heroes.”

“So you live in a world of storytellers?”

Edmund chuckles. “I guess. It’s really not as elegant as all that. Rather silly, honestly.”

“I think it’s wonderful. I think your whole world with your flaming stars and your storytellers is wonderful. I should feel lucky to be in it.”

Edmund smiles softly. “I think you should try, seafarer. Be the storyteller of the Narnian sky. What do you see?”

They both gaze into the darkness, studying the dots of light. Caspian’s eyes flit across the inky canvas, searching for a pattern. Eventually, Edmund gives up on the sky and studies instead Caspian’s face, lit gently by the waning moon. His gentle admiration is interrupted as Caspian gasps.

“See those four? Up in the north, there?” Edmund follows his finger to a small semicircle of glowing pinpricks in the northeast corner of the sky. “They look like a smile. That’s a picture, right?”

Edmund grins and nods. “It sure is. So what’s the story behind the smile?”

Caspian hums. “I think it’s a king’s smile. An old king, a good one too. Oh! It’s the smile of the first king of Narnia, Frank.”

“Not a very kingly name, is it?”

“It’s history- I’m not making it up.”

“Isn’t that the point? To make it up?”

“Fine. You try it if you’re such an expert.”

Edmund scoffs and surveys the stars. “Those five, there. They look like a mermaid, diving into the sea.”

“They look like a cane.”

“It’s called creative license, Caspian. It’s a mermaid.”

“So, what’s her story?”

“Hmm. I say she fell in love with a Minotaur, and they yearned for each other more than anything, but racial grudges from the war against Jadis drove the two apart. Their friends and families would never let them be together. One night, they arranged to run away and live in solitude. The Minotaur carried the mermaid far away, but they were met by the archers of Telmar, who were taught to kill Narnians on sight. The Minotaur was shot, and in his dying moment, tossed the mermaid back into the water. The stars show her as she escapes, free to do anything but be with her beloved.”

They lie there for a moment, silent but for the lapping of waves at the boat. Caspian sighs.

“Tell a happier story.”

“Was that one not good enough?”

“I just don’t see why, when I’m on a ship I love, adrift on the endless water, with someone I care about, I should be sad. Tell me something happy.”

Edmund smiles. “Anything for you.” He scans the stars until he finds six stars forming two parallel lines. He points up at them. “Those ones up there. They’re two boys, laying side by side.”

Caspian looks at him. His eyes glitter in the soft light. His hair fades into the night, but his pale skin glows under the moon. “Tell me about them.”

“They’re from two different worlds, these boys. Each one a traveler, ruling a people he does not truly belong to. They are kings, these boys, though they seem far too young to occupy that title. They are young, barely out of childhood, though one carries more years than his frame suggests. And they’re setting out on an adventure, looking for the end of the world, as if it isn’t always too close for comfort. They’ve got battles to win and lands to explore, but right now none of that matters. Right now, they’re just lying on the deck of a beautiful ship flying through the sky, and they’re gazing down at the world below them. They’re staring at their reflections in the ocean. And they’re looking for a connection with each other that they don’t quite understand. But they want to. At least, one of them does.” Edmund takes a breath, only now realizing how long it has been since his last. He stares pointedly at the sky, avoiding Caspian’s gaze.

He nestled his head on Edmund’s shoulder and entwines their fingers. “They both want to understand. I want to understand, Ed. Whatever we have, it’s important to me.”

Edmund finally looks at him and braids his fingers into his hair. “It’s important to me too.”

They lie there like that, close enough to feel each other’s breath, until the stars fade away into the morning.

————————

Caspian’s fitful sleep ends abruptly when Lucy shakes him awake. He looks up at her, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, and his gaze is met with a glowing smile.

“Come on, get up!”

He glances around the dark cabin, sleeping men fast asleep in every hammock. “It’s the middle of the night, Lu. What do you want?”

“The hippocampi are dancing!”

“The what?”

“Hippocampi! Every new moon, there’s a hippocampus ball! Oh, I haven’t seen one since I sailed to the lone islands as a young queen. Come on, you’ve got to see it.”

Curiosity overpowers Caspian’s exhaustion and he swings out of his hammock. Lucy nearly pulls him off of his footing as she yanks him up to the deck. Under the moonless sky, only the faint stars shine on the gentle ocean. A lilting tune filters through the night. Caspian almost recognizes it, like something he had heard through glass.

As Lucy leads him to the starboard bulwark, another light hits her face from below. Caspian looks down, into the waves, to see a hundred dancing horses, hind legs replaced by twirling fins. Their seaweed manes glow, braided with coral and glossy shells, light dancing off their iridescent scales. Their powerful tails carry them through a spiraling dance, lines of hippocampi forming patterns and circles and flowers, appearing and disappearing to the melody Caspian almost remembers.

He doesn’t know how long he leans over the bulwark, barely breathing, watching the mesmerizing waltz. As if realizing something one had always known, he realizes Lucy is laughing.  

“Look at the greenish one at the end. This must be his first ball.  Can’t you see how excited he is?”

Caspian follows her finger to the smallest of the hippocampi. His tail waves in double time, energy jittering through his front legs. Joy oozes from his turquoise scales, an infectious joy that sets Caspian to laughing too. He looks up at Lucy, simultaneously such a strong queen and such a young girl. He reaches out and ruffles her damp golden hair, like the servant boys had done with their sisters.

Lucy looks at him and scrunches up her nose, poking fun at him. “What do you say we have our own new moon ball?”

Caspian smiles and bows exaggeratedly, stretching out a hand. “May I have this dance, my most dignified and royal queen?”

Lucy curtsies, knees most of the way to the floor. “Of course, oh noble seafarer and friend of the royal court.”

Caspian is about to object when she grabs his hand and his waist, guiding him in a classic Narnian waltz around the deck. Her movements are quick and exaggerated, swinging him about like a rag doll. She cackles as he stumbles through the dance, unused to following. Caspian trips over himself and steps on Lucy’s bare foot.

She crosses her arms. “Ow! You know, such an attack on the queen could well be considered treason. I think you’ll have to be punished.” She reaches out and yanks a chunk of Caspian’s hair.

Caspian makes a pained, indignant noise. “You little bastard!”

“I thought that was Eustace!”

“Him too,” Caspian laughs, and lunges at Lucy. She shrieks and runs from him towards the bow, feet slapping on the wet wood. He chases after her, calloused hands outstretched to grab the slippery little girl. Lucy’s laughter, loud and high, echoes across the ocean, Caspian’s lower notes harmonizing. She scrambles up towards the crow’s nest, feet just outside of his reach, her nimble limbs giving her the advantage, when Edmund’s voice joins the din.

“Are you trying to wake the whole ship?” he hisses, exhaustion and malice mingling in his tone.

Lucy giggles from her place in the rigging and whispers, “Sorry, Ed.”

“What are you two doing in the middle of the damn night?”

“We were watching the hippocampus ball. And then Lucy decided to be a pest.”

Lucy makes an offended noise and is about the speak when Edmund cuts her off.  “The hippocampi are out?” His eyes are lit up with excitement.

Lucy nods, and a smile stretches across her face. She climbs into the crow’s nest and pats the wood on either side of her. “Come on, watch with us. Get up here, both of you.”

Ed glances back into the cabin before following Caspian up through the rigging and sitting next to Lucy. She grabs both their hands as they stare down at the dancing creatures below them.

“Thanks for waking me,” Caspian says.

Edmund nods in agreement.

“That’s what friends are for,” she says, and they watch the hippocampus ball until dawn rises on their gently dozing forms.

————————

Eustace sits in his once hiding place, now writing nook on the ship deck. He scratches at his skin, half expecting scales in his distracted state. He writes a few words, scratches them out, and starts the cycle over again.

“What bold opinions are you writing today?” Caspian calls over his shoulder, hands busy peeling potatoes.

Eustace huffs. “I’m writing very little of use, and no strong opinions. If I could only get my thoughts on Aslan together, I do believe I would make better progress.”

“You’re thinking too hard. Come over and help me. Let the thoughts rest for a minute.”

Eustace glances up from his journal, skeptical of Caspian’s suggestion. “I’ve never peeled potatoes before.”

Caspian stands and walks towards Eustace, extending one hand to help him up and another offering a knife. “Excellent time to start, then.”

Eustace hesitates before grabbing both offerings and heading towards Caspian’s buckets of potatoes. They sit down across from each other, and Caspian tosses him an unpeeled spud. Eustace fumbles and drops it in his lap. Caspian laughs.

“Come on, Eustace. Time to learn to pull your weight as a human, too. Dragonhood is a thing of the past.”

Eustace sighs and picks up a knife, clumsily scratching off the deep brown peel. “I wish I knew if being human again is a good thing.”

“I thought you couldn’t wait to lose the scales.”

“But having lost them, I realize I was rather a better dragon than person.”

“I think you’re shaping up to be a fine person. And besides, you can’t have been that bad. Come now, tell me of your life in England.”

“I would prefer not to lose what friendliness between us I have gained. Suffice to say, I was horrid. I was horrid in England and have been horrid in Narnia.”

Caspian flicks a bit of potato peel from his knife. “As we all have been. I spent my youth worshiping a man who took joy in oppressing my new people. We all have mistakes to atone for.”

“But is atonement enough to make up for being such a rotten egg before? Will it ever be?”

Caspian shrugs and gazes at his feet. “I thought we were peeling potatoes to give all these complicated thoughts a rest.”

Eustace grimaces and returns to his peeling with renewed vigor. They stew in the uncomfortable silence, bogged down by their respective thoughts.

A familiar tune floats across the deck, and Eustace looks up to watch Reepicheep scamper across the bulwark, humming about the utter east. He smiles, his fondness for the mouse not diminished by his lost scales, when a sharp pain surges through his palm.

He looks down to see blood dripping from a slit in his palm, inflicted in his distraction. He hisses in pain, clamping down on his hand. Caspian looks up and sees the blood. He grimaces.

“Oh, dear, that’s blood. You’re bleeding.”

“Thank you for stating the obvious.”

Caspian glares at him, but gets up and ushers him below decks. He brings Eustace to a small closet, from which he gathers a long strip of gauze.

Eustace holds out his hand and Caspian begins wrapping it with the cloth. The cabin is silent, and it weighs on Eustace’s chest.

“I’m sorry,” he says, when he can bear the quiet no longer. “I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you.”

Caspian smiles at him. “I’m sorry too.” He hums in thought. “I think you’re an alright sort of person. Even if having a dragon was pretty swell.”

Eustace laughs. “I think I should have torched you when I had the chance.”

“There’s the bastard I know. There’s no sense in changing too fast.”

Caspian threw his arm around the shorter boy’s shoulders, a show of affection Eustace was rather unaccustomed to, and dragged him back to the deck with a grin

[auron570]

New PC, old games

A few days ago I built a new desktop computer with the help of my dad. Almost a few hours after building it, setting up the internet, my dad asked me “so is it faster?” 

I simply replied “well, you really want to test the PC by using games, right. But I haven’t installed any games yet”. Having just been playing around with the settings and downloading a few ‘essential’ programs. 

Since then I have installed and played several hours into Guild Wars 2 (2012) and Team Fortress 2 (2007). I started playing TF2 in about 2009 and GW2 in about 2015. So, depending on your definition these are “old” games. Games that I have played on and off since I started. 

I have almost always played games on the lowest settings to try and get the smoothest experience possible. I would much rather have a game with really really low textures and running at a stable 60+ FPS, rather than an amazing looking game that drops below 20FPS when things get hairy. 

I am super happy with the performance of my new PC playing both of these ‘old’ games. For GW2 I pretty much only play a game mode which pits 3 teams of up to 50 players each in a large map with objectives against each other. Things can get pretty hairy, and pretty laggy!

On my previous PC, which I had for about 6 years, it would regularly slow down to a slide show during large fights, below 15FPS. I would be run with my group into an enemy group, see a bunch of lag, then be dead in 2 seconds. 

But now the FPS rarely even goes below 45FPS during such fights. I can actually SEE what is happening during a fight. Attacks and spells are actually going off and doing damage little by little, instead of just a huge lag spike and people are dead. I can actually see individual players moving in varying directions, instead of just a huge sea of enemies/allies just mowing over each other. 

I remarked to myself “wow it’s as if I’m playing an HD REMAKE of these games!” Then it hit me. PC games don’t really have or need HD remakes since a person can just upgrade or buy a new PC. And PC games are built so that players with different PCs can take advantage of their hardware by tinkering with the graphics settings. Effectively every PC gamer has the ability to “HD Remake” all of his games just by upgrading their PC! 

Of course there are limits to how good a game can look, how big of a monitor before it is just ridiculous etc. But this realization really put into perspective the purpose of HD remakes on consoles. Consoles are specific pre-built computers. Because of non-compatibility between consoles, there is a need for remakes in order to allow players to play OLD games on NEW hardware. In terms of cost, the extra cost of building a PC over a console is like paying for HD remakes of ALL the games in your PC games library. 

I have found new life in both GW2 and TF2. I do hope that my new PC can play some newer games (Divinity Original Sin 2 comes to mind), but I will be holding off on buying anything new for a while as my bank account recovers, haha.

[shannaraisles]

Her Beacon And Her Shield - Epilogue

Blizzards in the Frostbacks could be brutal.

On nights like this, when the wind howled and the snow danced, it was easy to believe in the Avvar gods; to believe in a world where every element was controlled by a divine being that did not see the mortals who walked Thedas as anything but an inconvenience. On nights like this, shutters were fastened tight, fires were built high; men and women alike waited for the new day with trepidation, for who knew what the storm would bring?

But tonight, Skyhold held its breath. The workers, soldiers, scouts, servants ... they gathered together in outbuildings and reinforced tents to wait out the storm, no one content to sleep so long as the lamps still burned in the Inquisitor's tower. The main hall was eerie in its silence, a single candle left to flicker by the throne of judgment. A visitor could be forgiven for thinking that some great tragedy had befallen. Yet this visitor knew otherwise, climbing the steps of the tower in haste to where a small group waited together by the door to the Inquisitor's rooms.

"Did I miss it?" Cassandra asked as she threw back her hood, breathless from her rush through the fortress from the stables.

"Andraste's knickers, Seeker, did you ride through this?" Varric demanded, almost impressed by the woman's determination to be here.

"Why should I not have?" Cassandra said defensively. "I made a promise." She paused, looking around at them all. "Well?"

"Nothing yet," the Iron Bull told her, pouring a fresh cup of ale. "Pull up a seat."

As Cassandra gratefully took the cup, sinking down onto the bench beside the Qunari, Thom looked up from his cards. "Midwife's been in there a good few hours," he told the Seeker. "Shouldn't be long now."

"I thought you were assigned to Soldier's Peak," Cassandra queried curiously, surprised to find the Warden here.

Thom chuckled, shaking his head. "I am," he admitted. "Just happened to get snowed in here."

"He waited four days to get snowed in," Bull added with a grin, raising his cup to the temerity of the bearded human.

"Ugh, why'd the Maker decide babies take so long, anyway?" Sera complained impatiently. "And be so painful. How's that fair?"

"Where is Cullen?" Cassandra asked, ignoring the outburst from the Red Jenny.

"I believe he threatened to give the midwife a black eye if she tried to eject him from the chamber," came the answer from Josephine amid a few quiet chuckles. The ambassador seemed to have brought her work up here to wile away the time, rather than join in the half-hearted game of Wicked Grace that was ongoing.

"She took him seriously," Dorian said a little peevishly from his anxious station by the door.

"Sparkler, everyone knows you wouldn't set fire to the one woman who is capable of delivering this kid," Varric pointed out mildly.

"I might have singed her," the mage objected. "Sadly, even in times of distress, I have impeccable manners."

"And Amelia would have singed you if you'd tried," Sera snickered.

"Dorian, darling, Cullen is the father," Vivienne interjected, raising her head from her book. "A cousin however many times removed by marriage just doesn't carry the same weight in this argument."

"It should," Dorian responded, almost pouting at being shut out. "I might even be useful. All he's doing is standing around."

"Come and sit, kadan," Bull told his lover calmly. "Like the Warden said, won't be long now." He drew Dorian down onto the bench between himself and Cassandra, not taking no for an answer.

"Hey, kid," Varric said then, turning to the last member of their little vigil, "how're they doing in there?"

Cole looked up, his smile almost beatific beneath the wide brim of his ridiculous hat. "Blood and gore and pain, and at the end, tears and hope and love," he said in his familiarly cryptic fashion. "Tiny hands, bright eyes, loving laughter at clumsy kisses. She is happy."

"Sounds like you arrived just in time, Seeker," the dwarf chuckled, shuffling the deck of cards in his hands.

As he spoke, the door opened, and an exhausted Cullen all but staggered into view, flushed and disheveled, smiling through the tear-tracks that stained his face. His gaze swept the little vigil being kept on the landing, his chuckle deepening at the sight of nine pairs of expectant eyes watching him as Dorian leapt to his feet, seizing the commander's arm.

"Well, don't keep us in suspense, Curly," Varric drawled, as eager as the rest of them to know.

"Is she ...?" Dorian tried to ask, but instead let out a strangled yelp as Cullen dragged him into a rough embrace.

"She's well," the commander said finally, dashing yet more happy tears from his face. "The midwife is just ... making them comfortable." A slow look of absolute wonder grew on his face as he dropped into the nearest chair. "I have a daughter," he told them, his voice low with unrestrained awe. "And a son."

"Two?" It was Cassandra's turn to yelp as Sera let out a loud whoop, startling the Seeker badly with the abrupt noise in the quiet of the tower.

"Congratulations, Cullen." Thom grinned over at the new father, chuckling as Cullen downed the drink Iron Bull pressed into his hand almost in one gulp.

"And both healthy?" Vivienne asked, though it was doubtful Cullen would be so mirthful if that were not the case.

"Both perfect," the commander breathed, in love with the little trio in the tower room above. "All three of them, perfect."

"Their names?" Josephine asked hopefully, her quill hovering over a blank piece of parchment. It could be reasonably assumed that the letters sent to Ostwick and the South Reach were going to be penned by her, and hopefully signed by the new parents.

"Cassian Bran," Cullen told them, his eyes flickering toward a suddenly wide-eyed Cassandra. "For the woman who brought us back together."

"Cullen ..." The Seeker was speechless. What could she possibly say to that?

His smile was gentle in the face of her shock. "I don't think you know how much your friendship means to Amelia," he told her quietly. "Especially given the way it began."

"Crackling warmth of fire in winter, summer sunshine on red roses, a family without blood," Cole offered, patting Cassandra's shoulder. For once, she didn't flinch from him, overwhelmed by the name her friends had given their son.

"And ... your daughter?" Josephine pressed, keen to know as much as Cullen could tell.

"Dorea Liane," Cullen offered innocently.

There was a pause, and Dorian abruptly sat down with a thump, shaking a finger at the new father. "Maker's balls, you actually did it," he exclaimed in shock. "I wasn't serious!"

"We were," Cullen told him, grinning at the look on the mage's face as Bull snorted with laughter. "She's beautiful, if that's any consolation."

"Of course she is, look at who her parents are," Dorian responded automatically, a touched smile quirking his mustache. "I'm honored, Cullen. Truly."

"As am I," Cassandra agreed, glad Dorian had found the words that had been eluding her. Honored, touched, moved ... all these and more.

"So what about me?" Sera demanded, though her mischievous smile clearly stated she wasn't as put out as she pretended to be, having been overlooked in the naming department.

"Apparently the next one is going to be called Jenny." Cullen chuckled, slightly in awe of a woman who could say something like that less than an hour after birthing twins.

Sera considered this for a moment, and nodded. "That'll do."

"A toast, then," Vivienne suggested, offering up her own bottle of expensive wine to allow a small measure to be poured into each cup held by each hand.

Varric raised his tankard, the best among them to form something coherent in the midst of a sleepless, joyful night, and they each echoed his motion, glad to be witness to such a significant moment.

"To the Duchess, who really doesn't know to do things by halves; to Curly, who deserves this more than anyone else I know; to Cassian and Dorea, who don't know what all the fuss is about; and to us, the weirdest bunch of people ever to call themselves family."

"To family," Thom translated, and that was their toast, shared with warmth and laughter to celebrate the arrival of two very special children on the coldest night of the year.

Congratulations were shared until the midwife left the tower, and Cullen slipped away from the now merry gathering to return to his wife, to gather her into his arms and kiss her tenderly as they lay together in the glow of satisfaction and elation at the wonderful gift they had been given. Not one, but two, little lives had survived that encounter with Corypheus to be born tonight, three years after their mother had fallen from the Fade and into a new role no one could ever have predicted for her. Seven years, to the day, after their parents had exchanged vows as strangers to satisfy a driven woman's political whim. Meredith Stannard might have been insane, but of all her works, this one might go down as the most brilliant - the joining of this couple, and the foundation of this family.

And somewhere out there, beyond the walls and the whirling snow, a lone wolf howled his blessing on the new lives to the skies, wishing he could give them a better tomorrow. But he was set on his path. Today would just have to do.

[vhyral]

Blooded Hands, Bleeding Hearts

How do I do this?

Pairings: Anna Hawke x Fenris, Reyna Hawke x Orsino, Garrett Hawke x Anders, Vatriel Mahariel x Zevran Arainai

Worldstate: Vatriel Mahariel is the Hero of Ferelden and Warden Commander, Garrett, Reyna and Anna Hawke are the three older siblings of Carver and Bethany Hawke with Reyna being the Champion of Kirkwall

Setting: Garrett and Anna Hawke have accompanied the Inquisitor to the siege of Adamant Fortress. This ficlet follows the party’s last moments in the Fade and the aftermath of the battle. Fenris and Anders arrive in Skyhold, seeking their respective Hawkes.

Words:  4775

Her hands are slick with red, her daggers slowly sliding out of her tightly clenched grip. The ghouls- no, the demons- whatever the corpses with the milky eyes and the black teeth are, they melt into nothing once slashed open and leave scars on her as farewell gifts. The Fade-air is thick and liquid when she breathes between strikes, clinging on the rogue’s clothes and dumping her hair.

It is not made to be breathed by creatures of flesh and blood, Anna Hawke thinks. It feels like she’s choking on honey.

“We cannot delay!” Cassandra’s voice echoes, after the last of the demons has been reduced to dust. “It knows we’re here.”

The Inquisitor scrambles closer, the little elf’s features drawn as she speaks with the warrior, casting worried stares towards the kneeling Warden ahead. She whispers and motions and the Seeker grunts. Two minutes, she issues and joins Blackwall at his rounds, circling their perimeter, their boots sloshing through the muddy, ankle-deep waters. Meanwhile, the bald mage walks to the Inquisitor and leans closer to her as if to share a thought. The wild boy with the hat- Cole- trips right behind him, tagging at his robes. Solas’ eyes have been sparkling with awe non-stop, even when they meet with the Fade horrors. Anna frowns and turns to her brother.

Garrett is at her side like always, his armor glinting under the dim green fade-light. He has been there since they fell into this pit of magic and uncertainty, guarding her back, and for a second, between the smoke and the smell of his thunderbolts scorching the stones near her feet, it feels the faintest like Kirkwall, like the life they had built with blood and sweat before being forced to flee again.

“I never thought I’d miss the smell of Darktown’s sewers yet here we are.” She gives him a tired smile and Garrett shines her one of his own, crooked and soul warming.

"Don't let Varric hear you say that." he laughs.

“I’m literally right over here, Hawke.” The dwarf rolls his eyes at them from where he had perched himself during the fight, on top a nearby rock. A fade-rock. It would not surprise Anna if it sprouted legs and began crawling around with the dwarf riding it like a mighty stead carrying him into battle.

"We will be fine.” Garrett promises, scratching at the remnants of a demon’s claws on the dark metal around his neck. “But we have to move. Soon.”

Further down the narrow path, the Warden Commander is on her knees, her elven lover’s arms around her, holding her close, holding her stable. Her own hands squeeze over her lower abdomen, paperwhite and trembling as she heaves.

"Visiting." Fenris says to the guard that stopped them underneath the Inquisition flags, right before they crossed the huge wooden doors. Behind him, a man is yelling to another guard, trying to gain access to the castle for his goat while a gilded wagon attempts to drive through the doors only to be stopped by flailing Inquisition soldiers.

Morning had already passed when he and Anders had caught the first glimpse of Skyhold from across the rocky mountain landscape, the snow on its tallest towers thick and glistening to the evening sun. The Grand Gates of the stronghold were still wide open when they reached them, letting the colorful, loud crowd of soldiers, merchants and refugees come and go under the watchful eyes of the guards.

"We were invited by Varric Tethras. Here."

The letter comes out neatly folded if not a bit worn out from use- a pretty stellar condition after having travelled half of Thedas in the chest pocket of his cloak. The other man's eyes flutter quickly over the few written lines, straight to the signature at the bottom of the page. There isn't much for him to skip and after weeks of reading it by the campfire, Fenris knows each word by heart.

Broody, it reads, I tried to convey your words to our dearest Hawke. I truly did, once. I'm sorry but for all my charms, Stabby seems to be having none of it- the answer is still no. The hiss I received must have been the shortest conversation I've have had since the Seeker ceased attempting to communicate with me with grunts. The Inquisitor says any friends of mine are welcome in Skyhold- Chipper's a good kid but unless you want your head shaved by an angry redhaired, I'd advise you against accepting any kind of invitations for this part of Thedas.

Then a scratched up line, like someone had snatched the parchment up and managed to scribble a few words before the letter was retrieved. Fenris, the big cursive letters almost screamed with her voice, you over worrying fool! We’ve talked about this. Extensively. I am a grown ass woman and I PROMISE I will roast you with red peppers if I see one lock of fucking white hair around-

These words he read every night before going to sleep. She had not written to him after reaching Skyhold. Too dangerous, too easy to get stolen and Anna never had enough patience to slap down a code instead of her bare thoughts. There was a huge smudge of inked fingertips after her scribbles and above Varric’s signature and the guard’s eyebrow raises noticeably when he reaches the part.

“Master Tethras is usually in the Main Hall this time of the day.” Fenris accepts the letter back with a nod and folds it carefully, slipping it back over his heart.

“He’s not here.”

The elf is stomping around in circles in front of the table one of the kitchen servants guided them to when they asked for Master Tethras. It is small and round, made of well polished pine wood and placed strategically in front of one of the Hall’s many fireplaces. Varric isn’t there but his papers are- stashed parchments, books, ink bottles and more pens than one single dwarf could possibly use neatly organized in one corner.

Anders, strangely, has claimed for himself the seat closer to the fireplace. He is now deftly swirling a pen between his fingers, making its short, black feather jolt and shed a little. His hood has been thrown back- leaving it on would attract more eyes than taking it off, he scoffed when Fenris grimaced. True, with the poor excuse of a beard he has grown around his chin, comically resembling Garrett’s- Fenris had tried not to snort the first time he had seen it-, his golden hair cut short and greying, the mage looks roughly ten years older and is hardly resembling the man that once set Kirkwall- and perhaps the whole of Thedas- on fire.

“You’re… feigning calmness.” Fenris side eyes him. Anders had been restless during their ride through Ferelden, pushing his horse forward to lengths he usually wouldn’t try to reach, spending nights awake and staring at the fire flakes as they rose towards the night sky. Now, he sits idly back on the chair, seemingly relaxed. Yet, after a second, more careful glance, it is obvious that he’s doing a shitty job at concealing it- the mage’s shoulders are visibly stiff and his features drawn, lips pressed together as he keeps his eyes squarely on the pen.

“It’s called keeping a low profile.” he murmurs, stealing a glance around the main hall. People had stared for a bit when they had first entered but visitors are nothing new for Skyhold and after an hour, they now are as good as another piece of decoration. “They’re in an emergency meeting and since you didn’t want to give your name and we can’t quite give mine, we weren’t even announced. No one's going to come running out of there to meet us any time soon.”

Fenris lets out a groan. They are so close, this waiting is killing him. The rumours have been bad but the uncertainty they carried is the worst of it all and the elf can feel himself almost vibrating where he stands, his hands flexing from and into fists at his sides.

The Champion of Kirkwall has fallen. Hawke is dead.

Both Anders and him had walked the long way to the Inquisition’s stronghold with one thought tormenting them every passing hour.

Which Hawke?

The ‘Champion of Kirkwall’ had been left as an open term on purpose, for safety, and they had all agreed to it. It was once the title Reyna Hawke carried, her legacy from almost being impaled on the Arishok’s spear during what now was one of the most widely known duels in Thedas. Yet even in the very city of Kirkwall, the title had been changing hands from one day to the other- after all, there were three Hawkes with exceptional abilities and where Reyna would clean a street in Hightown from thieves, Anna would locate someone’s lost kid the next day and both deeds would be deemed as done by the Champion. When they fled, rumor mingled with gossip and the Tale of the Champion, expertly written as to not give out much about the Champion’s family, had obscured the fact that there were more Hawkes running around Thedas than anyone could ever handle.

But Reyna never set foot in Skyhold, both of them are sure about that. The last letter that had arrived with her sand colored hawk barely a month ago spoke of Antiva and a small, sunny room rented near the Port. It spoke of the sudden decline of Orsino’s health and her reluctant- yeah, right, Anna had laughed- decision to aid the elder mage until he overcame his illness. Thus, only two Hawkes had ever arrived at Skyhold, no matter how strongly Fenris had opposed to the idea when Anna had come to him to talk. And now, someone is supposedly dead and he can feel his chest hurt every time he catches himself wishing that it isn’t her.

He scans the grand hall around him. Dust is dancing in the sunlight pouring in from the huge glass windows, swirling over the lit torches lining its walls. An elf in scout armor is walking their way and he takes a step to the side, placing himself in her path.

“Serah.” he calls. She blinks his way, one of her ears twitching over short, red hair. He gives her a second for the usual quick scan of his face. Her eyes widen the slightest to his tattoos and Fenris asks.

“Where to the Ambassador’s room?”

“What are you planning to do?” Anders is on his feet and following him closely as Fenris walks with long, sure strides across the Hall.

“I’m going to announce myself.”

“It’s impossible to outrun that!”

There’s blood running down Cassandra’s forehead as she yells, her eyes stuck up and glinting dangerously under the green Fade fires. The smell of sulfur is on the air, burning their noses, the hissing of raw Fade energy hissing at the edges of their hair, remains of the recent battle against the Nightmare.

“Go!” comes a hoarse order from behind their backs, “I’ll keep it busy.”

“Have you gone insane?!” Anna has never heard Zevran’s voice ring as thickly and ominously as right now. He grabs the Warden Commander’s arm when she swirls around, his fingers closing in what looks like a death grip. “We’re going.” he growls at her.

“Since when are you making my decisions for me, Zevran?” she hisses back, trying to shake his hand off but the muscles on the Crow’s arm flex and he tags her closer instead, her boots splashing through the murky waters. She glares daggers at him and he shakes his head.

“Since you, my dear Warden, seem to have lost your good judgement.”

“This is NOT the time for this!” Cassandra howls at the same time as a bellow crashes into their ears- the demon is recovering and it will soon be coming for them.

“Knives and fire and steel that cuts, too real, too solid, permanent, burning! Gut them, burn them, chain them up and drink them dry!” Cole wails and then doubles down and holds his head, grunting in pain. The Inquisitor rubs a comforting hand down his back.

“I can give you at least five.” Mahariel insists. “Run and you’ll make it. I have fought uglier things that this in the past.”

“Andraste’s flaming underpants, Vatriel-”

Thunder booms behind them and Anna jumps.

“If you could hurry it up a bit, thank you very much.” Garrett huffs from their rear guard. He raises his arms above his head and lets lightning rain down upon the few demons that have found the courage to slither through the scorched battleground from before and come after them. “I mean it’s not like we have a giant spider coming for our sorry asses here or anything. I can handle this, sure.”

Anna turns around, teeth tearing at her lips as she adjusts the grip on her carved knives. Her muscles still feel sore from their recent fights as she steps towards the demons, melting into the shadows. All she wants is warm food and cold beer and to put her feet up in front of a fireplace without something being out for her neck.

“Go back. To being. Fucking mist.” she hisses as she plunges a dagger deep enough into a ghoul’s eye, it sinks to the hilt. An arrow zooms by her ear as Varric falls into work alongside them.

“I can put up a shield.” she hears the Inquisitor’s voice. “It can hold for a while until you all get out of here and I’m a fast runner-”

“Not open for discussion.” the Seeker cuts her and Lavellan groans.

“Cassandra-”

“A barrier could indeed be held for longer than usual here in the Fade.” Solas offers. “But to risk sacrificing you would be ill adviced if not mindless.”

“This is the Wardens’ fault, all of it.” The Commander’s voice sounds adamant. “No, Zevran. This is MY responsibility.

“It is not even just YOU that would have to stay back anymore!” the Antivan snaps. Anna throws her dagger to a nearby crawling spiderling. It hits it square between its open jaws and it evaporates with a screech. “Good riddance, you freaky nug.” Garrett laughs. “Good one, kid.”

“Sir? Sir, please! You cannot go in there!”

Josephine finds herself at a loss when the strangers first storm right through her doors. She has no meeting arranged for the next three hours and the Council is not yet done. She had briefly returned to her desk to fetch a couple of official documents when the door had swung open, smooth on well oiled hinges. It hits the wall behind it with a bang, making her jump and sending several of the parchments she had been carrying to the floor.

“This area is off limits!” she states now, sharpening her tone and stepping forward to quickly slip her body in between the unknown pair of men that rushes inside and the inner door that leads to the War Room. A flutter of her eyes and the scout that had arrived seconds earlier to deliver a report quietly excuses himself back to the Hall. Hopefully the guards will be here soon enough. “You can’t just barge in here like this, gentlemen, please. We can talk this out.”

“Apologies, Serah,” the elf at the front stops a few steps away from her and speaks, looking her square in the eyes, “but we have come to see the Hawke siblings.”

His pupils are big, expressive and brightly green, mesmerizing as he firmly holds her gaze, and Josephine gives him a quick appraisal now that he is finally standing still instead of marching towards her.

“I’m afraid the Council is private-” she begins.

And then she sees them, where they’re poking from his scarf, around his neck and up his chin, the white tattoos with the faint blue iridescence that curl against dark skin. The ambassador knows better than to let her surprise show- she lets the initial rush of adrenaline of having this very elf right in front of her, here in Skyhold, pass. The man behind him shifts on his feet and Josephine eyes him carefully. He is wearing a hood that partially hid his face but she can make out the tiniest hint of blonde. She inhales sharply- if that is who she thinks he is, Cassandra won’t be happy at all.

Then comes dread- they are here for a reason. They are here for Hawke.

“Serah Fenris. Serah.” she motions towards the chairs of her office. “If you have a minute.”

“Go!”

Varric’s face is a mess of pain, loss and bitter understanding. “Garrett.” he croaks.

“The woman is with child, Varric.” The tall man rolls his staff in his hands before looking up, clear blue eyes meeting with the deep green of the Warden Commander. “And who’s better suited to fight in the Fade than a mage?”

“My brother,” he says loudly for her to hear, “he’s a Warden. If you meet Carver Hawke, let him know that his brother was very proud of him. Tell him his brother loved him, dearly, deeply, always.”

“That should embarrass him out of his grief pretty quickly.” he chuckles.

“No! Garrett!” Anna lunges herself at him, a hand grasping his wrist, the other one closing into a fist around the fabric of his garments. “This is bullshit!” she roars. “You’re not staying here! I’m not leaving you in this hell!”

She glares at him and Garrett gives her a small, weary smile- his free hand finds its way to her cheek and cups it softly- he smells of blood and sweat and ash but so does she and it’s a familiar smell.

“There’s no other way.” His voice is soft. “We will never outrun the Nightmare.”

She can feel a lump forming in her throat, the familiar pressure behind her eyes. She grits her teeth instead and shakes her head violently, scanning the area around them. They can hide, they can split up and try to confuse it, she can knife the demon in its blasted, cursed eyes-

His hand, still warm on her cheek, tags gently, guiding her eyes back on his face, keeping them there. Garrett’s cheeks and forehead are smeared with black and his lower lip sports a blood red cut- his breathing is hitched but he’s smiling softly at her and the rogue feels her chest constrict.

“There’s no other way, Anna.” he breathes. His forehead comes to meet with hers and her hands let go of everything to come cup his temples, her fingers hooking into his hair. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry it came to this. You’ll have to explain to Reyna, Bethany… to Anders-”

“I’m staying.” Her voice is ragged, her lips dry. “If you’re staying, I’ll be with you to the end.”

“Anna…”

“No, no!” she hisses. “You get to throw your life away but I can’t do the same for you? I’m staying, Garrett. You are my- I’m not going, I’m not losing you.”

Varric’s voice is hoarse behind her. “Kid…”

“Varric.” Her heart is fluttering like a caged bird now- her body trembles in the thought of what’s to come and then steels, warms up and tightens as she turns to face the dwarf. She didn’t come seeking death but leaving Garrett behind feels like a death in its own and she won’t have it. In a corner of her mind, somewhere, a small voice whispers- maybe with the two of us, we can win, we can make it, the two of us, together.

“You have to write to him.” she tells the dwarf. “Fenris. Tell him I’m sorry. Tell him I love him, now and forever.”

Varric’s face twists into a mass of pain to her words, his knuckles turning white where he holds Bianca. “Kid,” he shakes his head, “not like this.”

Something explodes in the distant and the ground underneath their feet shakes, the rumbling that echoes through the air growing louder instead of dying down. Anna unsheathes her knives as Blackwall lets out a war cry.

“We don’t have any more time!” he yells. “We have to leave. NOW!”

“And so, we’re out of time.” Garrett huffs.

“Wha-”

She turns- and then her limbs suddenly feel heavy, getting glued into place with every muscle that she tries to move.

“Garrett!’ she croaks bewildered. “Garrett, what-”

His hand is pointing towards her, lit with arcane energy and deep lines form on his forehead as she stares at him. Light pillars flicker around her and that’s when she realises the spell being cast on her.

“Spirit Cage?” she shouts. “Spirit Cage, on ME? Garrett! Let me go! Let me go right now!”

“Varric!” her brother yells instead. “Blackwall! Get her out of here, NOW!”

“No! NO!” The men’s hands are on her shoulders then, around her waist, pulling her, dragging her with them and Anna struggles against the invisible ropes that keep her arms from pushing them away, her legs from kicking. She’s being carried away and for every second passing, Garrett’s getting further away as he flexes his arms and firmly grabs his staff.

“Garrett!” she screams. People are yelling around her as they run. Blackwall is grunting under her weight and Zevran’s voice is encouraging his wife forwards from somewhere at the head of the line but all Anna can see is the tall man they’re leaving behind, the glinting of the ice blue gem of his staff, like a beacon in a sea of green.

“GARRETT, NO! NOT LIKE THIS! GARRETT!” Her throat feels like being teared up from the inside out. “GARRETT!”

At the distance, her brother looks back one last time and his voice carries over the ominous rumble when he yells.

“I love you.”

The words reach her just as the monstrous demon breaks through the hill hiding them from its view all this time. It comes with its million legs thrashing and an explosion of flying rocks and fire and Garrett turns to face it, small in the distance and with his armor shining with swirling mana.

She doesn’t feel remorse when the spell loosens and she beats against Blackwall’s helmet with all the strength she can find in her, when she kicks Varric in the shoulder while trying to break free. She doesn’t see the rift’s edges when they jump through it and crash against hard stone, knees and elbows bleeding as they scrape against the floor.

She only keeps on screaming as she’s held back from jumping back in, someone’s arms around her own, Varric’s hands against her chest as the Inquisitor stands and waits for a heartbeat and then for some more and when no one comes through, she finally raises her hand and blinding green flashes.

She screams harder than ever when he can’t hear her anymore.

“… Kid?”

Anna jumps, knocking down one of the flags the Inquisition advisors use to pinpoint missions on their map.

“Shit.” she mutters and reaches down. The damned thing has rolled further down the war table and she gets on her knees to get it. “Fuck.” she repeats. “Sorry.”

She straightens back up and catches the Inquisitor stealing a glance at her. Lavellan’s eyes are clouded but she averts them fast when Anna stares back and turns to where Leliana and Cullen are bickering.

“You ok?”

Varric usually doesn’t participate in Council meetings- a case has come up deeply connected to Kirkwall though and his presence has been requested. He has not taken the task with joy but he has come nonetheless. Anna knows he is here mostly for her. He has been trying to be in her immediate perimeter ever since they returned from Adamant Fortress.

She wishes he didn’t.

“Are you?” she rumbles.

Pain flashes across the dwarf’s face and the rogue feels the sting of her words coming right back at her.

“Damn it, Varric.” she sighs. “Sorry. I… don’t- this… it’s difficult.”

“I know.” He scratches his chin, absentmindedly staring at the advisors and the Inquisitor trying to find some middle ground over a mission. “Believe me, Kid, I know.”

“Did you write? To everyone.”

He shakes his head.

“The words won’t come.”

How do you write about something that doesn’t feel real? Several days have passed and still, whenever she manages to make herself faint, late at night, she wakes up the next morning with a few blissful seconds where everything feel like just another dream. Where Garrett bangs on her door with plates full of pancakes. Where Dog and her are a warm mess on her bed, the mabari drooling on her hair. And then, Garrett never comes and Dog is old and a world away from her, with the other half of her heart, and she has to truly wake up and keep on going, living, in a world with muted colors.

She has to write to Fenris, to let him know that she is alive, that she is ok. She knows but her fingers refuse to ink the words and the parchment is waiting half empty on her desk.

“What is taking Josephine so long?” Leliana wonders from the other side of the table. “It has been ten minutes already.”

“I should go check.” the Inquisitor turns. “Maybe she needs some help.”

There it is, a window out of this room, away from talks for future expeditions- all she wants at the moment and so Anna sets the little flag back on the table. “Let me. I could use some fresh air.”

“Ask her to bring all recent correspondence with Duke Dumont, yes?”

“No, not you, Varric.” Cullen calls when the dwarf motions to follow her to the door. “We just got to the requests from Kirkwall, we need your assistance.”

Varric shrugs, gives her a strained look and drags himself back to the war table, looking not pleased at all. Anna on the other hand rather prefers this turn of events- he is so stricken with grief and she can’t deal with this right now. She needs space.

“Later, Varric.” she waves, letting the doors close behind her.

She is glad no one has fixed the hole in the wall between the war room and Josephine’s office. She gives herself a second to stand before it, letting the setting sunlight blind her eyes and the breeze caress her face. It almost feels like a touch across her cheek.

“Josephine?” she calls, pushing down the handle to the dark door leading to the ambassador’s office. “Leliana is looking for you- oh, visitors. Excuse me-”

One of the men standing over Josephine’s desk is covered from head to toes, a dark cloak around thin shoulders and his head hidden underneath a hood. He is hunched over the various papers and talking to the ambassador with a low voice- tension is radiating from where his hands have clutched the rim of her desk, bony fingers white from his tight grip.

It feels fishy and she discreetly moves one hand to the dagger at her waist. The man standing next to him, clothed in similar travelling clothes and with white hair caught into a tight ponytail, turns sharply the moment her voice rings across the room.

Anna takes it all in at once, in a moment- the green of his wide eyes, the arch of his nose. The red ribbon keeping his hair in place. The glint of sharp teeth when he opens his mouth.

“Fenris?” she manages before going airborne, strong arms closing around her waist and burning hot lips crashing onto her own and he breathes his next word right into their kiss.

“Anna!” he growls. “Anna, Anna, Anna!”

Her own hands find his back instinctively, nails digging in and holding on to him desperately- the kiss is long and fiery, an explosion of colors and rapid hearbeats and for a glorious moment, she forgets everything that isn’t him. It leaves her heaving for air when he finally puts some space between their faces, both of them breathing hard into each other’s arms.

“You’re here.” Fenris whispers feverently, one hand reaching up to smooth her hair, guiding her head to rest against his neck. “You’re here, you’re safe.”

The rogue nods, her throat blocked for a moment. She can smell the road on him, the dust and the horse hair and underneath all that, his aroma that reminds her of nights under the sheets and warm arms around her back. Her eyes burn and she pushes against his chest a bit- she wants to see his eyes again, his face, him.

“How?” she croaks once words finally seem to return as an option of response. “What are you doing here?”

Fenris’ expression clouds to her question and his eyebrows lower menacingly over his eyes, a hint of anger finding its way to his now tightly pursed lips, to the sharp line of his jaw. His hand finds the side of her neck and squeezes firmly.

“What was I doing away from here is the right question. We heard the rumours, Anna. I thought you were dead!”

“I’m not dead.” she shakes her head. “I’m not…”

We?

“Anna?”

She freezes. It is the voice she dreaded to hear. Not here, not yet. She is not ready for this.

She looks behind Fenris, where the cloaked stranger has let his hood fall back over his shoulders. Golden hair shine under the last sun rays and she spots the red scarf around his neck.

“Where is Garrett?” asks Anders.

@forthelifeofoneburglar, @notyourinquisitormate, it’s been a while so here it is again. I’m almost done with the second part so I thought I should remind you you should reread it before the next assault of angst.

[weirdspookystories]

The Cold Prototype

Black barked-claws, like twitching tendrils on velvet purple night sky, flickered and parted against an encroaching beam of pale light. It arcs as dense vegetation parts to expel a camouflaged figure. After a stumble, the beam of light quickly settles. The large silhouette stands on the edge of a shallow stream, fumbling for their map, quickly. They also check their wrist-navigator before moving along, expertly ensuring that they are unfollowed. Too much was on the line. A shrill whirr could be heard, faintly, on the wind.

Inside, meanwhile, Edward stretched, yawned, then checked his displays. There had, unusually, been an official report sent to him, a motion signature detected by one of the prevalent, silent security-drones, from just across the valley. This city was eventually to house CEOs and world leaders, with the current residents effectively pampered lab-rats. So far it wasn’t boding well.  Although it was getting on for midnight, it didn’t feel like the picturesque, wholesome neighbourhood that branding had suggested it would become. Outwardly pleasant, but still hostile just below the surface. The report unsettled Edward, whose mind filled instinctively with memories of the brutes he had faced back in the dense concrete sprawl of his hometown. He looked down at his left hand, almost entirely organic prosthetics, only a light shimmer and loss of dexterity would reveal it, but it was always there. The security chief had spent years earning this job: to coworkers and friends he was confident and funny, but those he had faced had seen him much differently...he accepted the unpleasantness of his role as necessary.

The city was privately owned, self-sufficient, and safe. Safety was hard to come by during that time of civil war, but the fact that the company shared their victories with their patrons was inarguably generous. The city was a beautiful prototype: only touching the sky would have given away that it was a holographic ceiling, designed to relax company citizens, and the floor was hard, cold marble, brutally pristine. Making his way through the corridors of the compactly-inhabited neighbourhood, the security guard quietly documented the search through a small digital implant in his throat.

As he marched, Edward thought of the kind of person surviving outside the neocity or fighting in the brutal Corporate War and shuddered, it wasn’t a life he would live. It was necessary, though, and he couldn’t imagine society being any other way. He wasn’t politically minded. Focusing instead on his work, he tried ascertaining the kind of dissident that would be trespassing in such a remote, secure location, especially considering how difficult simply reaching this new fortress city nearly-undetected would be. Someone well-trained, but not from the company? Impossible, those people were barely educated, he thought, and they would have had to crawl through the electronic smartpipe, which was secure, and full of heat-seeking drones. Ed arrived at a thick steel door, looking out of place amongst the modern and bright design of the structure.

Outside, the creeper stealthily crouches at the edge of the access panel: intel had suggested it would be the weakest and shallowest around the unfinished concrete cube city. They began mechanically and methodically digging in the cold dirt to find the handle, exactly where it was predicted to be, a few feet deep in the grainy, dead soil. In an unwitnessed display of superhuman strength, the stranger plied open the metre-squared, dirt-covered panel of lightweight and somewhat corroded metal, shining the torch into the ominous tunnel. Moonlight pierced the Entrance’s darkness like an abdominal wound. This was it.

Edward inhaled cool fresh air deeply. He would miss this. It was a reminder that future citizens would be living their whole lives in their comfortable boxes. The outside wouldn’t be secret, of course, but there would benothing they’d know to miss. After walking for an hour, he was standing at the handrail, looking out across theunfamiliar  landscape. He felt exposed without strong walls. As he was looking, he saw a soft light, a strange orange glow in the twisting brown limbs that he hadn’t spotted before, so he moved to approach. 

Edward stepped into thin air, off the edge, finding the thin iron rungs embedded in the cross-laminated timber. They were designed to rust away, leaving the city impenetrable to any aggravators or non-citizens when it was completed. Noah’s ark came to mind as Edward stepped off into a world he felt was, in many ways, now too hostile to survive for long in. Things weren’t always nice in the neocity, like the brief outages of power and emotional evictions, but otherwise he felt safe, and he couldn’t ask for anything more. Touching the floor delicately and entering the scenery, he felt the eyes of hundreds of potential ambushers sizing him up. He wasn’t aware that the vegetation thinned out barely a mile away: the soil wasnt fertile enough out there, and it barely was around the city anyway, but it looked nice on posters and in marketing to have some rare greenery. There was a small clearing between the trees, which he headed for. Edward felt isolated, and  the formless presence of the unfamiliar trees wasn’t helping. He felt a twinge just below his stomach.

There was the Entrance. Smoke drifted out, but Edward hadn’t seen smoke in person before. He coughed, looking around, before looking deeper into the opening, hesitant. The glow he had spotted from above was emergency lighting, humming orange halogen bulbs like old streetlights. They were embedded in the concrete, by the ladder, which,

like the other,

he

descended.

Losing track of the rungs, he almost jumped when he felt stable floor underfoot again. Edward had reached a mesh platform, through which an abyss of wiring and dust could be seen below, appearing infinite. In truth, it was indeed a very long fall to the nuclear core, but infinity cannot really be known. A few tunnels and corners later, the walkway narrowed to a bank of important-looking yet highly complex computers. Ed had never been here before, and he was acutely aware of it, how alien it felt to him, even though it was so near to where he was living. It felt more cramped than even the older shanty-cities he’d had to work at, but not as dirty. His hand shimmered in the gloom apprehensively.

At the end of the section of walkway the illegal man stood, hunched, but the man was not a man. The…stranger pulled back the camoflagued veil to reveal nothing remotely human. Illuminated by the fire it had started down here, Edward gawped at the pot-metal machine, intricate handiwork contrasting with cheap materials and aggressive functionalism, clearly built below-surface, far, far away. It spoke with a fuzzy voice, which only barely anthropomorphised the bipedal tool, sounding like a distorted vintage recording. “Mr Security. I am sorry. We have to terminate your settlement. It is built on lies and destruction”. Unlike light and safety, sound flourished in the unseen expanses around them and through rusting caverns of empty pipes, where parts of the station had festered. “I am here to fix this. I am sorry. You see, the more synchronised control your company gave itself over the environment, the more vulnerable it became. Dependencies nurtured, nature neglected. Cracks will always form”. Edward drew his baton and moved to strike in a quick motion at the automaton’s exposed pseudo-neck joints, denting some pneumatics and weakening some exposed circuitry. With the force of four tons a split second later, the robot pushed its arm through Edward, just below his stomach, and out his back, narrowly avoiding his spine.

There was a morbid breeze colder than nuclear winter, incomparable to the calm of the surface breeze.

The machine explained, tearing its soaked arm from the dying guard’s viscera. The hulking space-station was the prototype the citizens had been sent to, not simply the new city. A whole planet, or at least, the surface-above appearance of it. All occupants were kept unaware that they were not even on earth. This was the company’s most lucrative venture yet: industrialisation of an entire planet from core to atmosphere, a celestial body made of machine. The pinnacle of the species and closest to god they had come, but it was also flawed: it was cold and dead. Careful assignment of employment would allow the company to have its citizens maintain the planet from its surface, without knowing that it was no real planet, but it was too large to monitor everything on its surface with available technology. 

The neoplanet’s now-century-old veins were pipes, pumping fuels, nutrients, water, coolant. Whole new ecosystems began to coalesce in the harsh environments. Gaps between mechanised planetary viscera became homes and inorganic jungles. The occupant’s sounds were drips and clangs and groans, and some had never seen sunlight. Some of the creatures already had lost their resemblance to the construction workers they had been.These people were not permitted to be alive through their inadvertant trespass, though, once their roles were fulfilled. The automated planet knew to redirect its fruits to those that the company happened to deem worthy. Some of them, in a small, desperate way, put their engineering to a more retributional use, building the metal guerilla.

At this point, the robot had shut off all digital pathways and pipelines to the city, all major surface amenities and resources. By the time the over-defensive failsafe satellite had engaged, aiming to wipe out all organic material in a two-mile radius, it was too late. It had been deactivated and began falling to the surface, a chunk of expensive scrap metal, melting and breaking at the static, unrelenting force of nature. The planet would die too, but more would take its place, after the prototype data was collected.

Eventually, the scavenged, pretend-person explained, these planets would be coordinated to form the ultimate system of production, allowing total control of unprecedented minutae, from the genetics of their workers, to the geography of their cities, to the flavour of the air, and to the directors’ every whim. It disposed of itself by climbing off the handrail and plummeting instantly.

Some things might be better not known, Edward thought distantly, unhearing. He had missed most of the robot’s preprogrammed speech, maybe on purpose, or maybe because of the hole inside him. Rather, his last moments were spent with the gratitude that he did not feel the pain, avoiding confronting his situation with any real focus. He was laying on the walkway and gargling blood, feeling instead heavy with exhaustion and betrayal. He felt his eyelids sink as his life sunk, red, into the vast dark below: infinity was cold.