#cullen/amell/jowan

[mermaidhugs]

Neria Surana

[laniardraws]

Continuation of this

[eliphasgraham]

Jowan walked so that Morrigan/Anders/Solas and all the sneaky mages assholes of Thedas ( i love them all so much ) could RUN

[iamthescalesofjustice]

idk if anyone has done this before but da2 au where you think at first its a both twins lived au and then find out bethany died and thats actually non-warden amell posing as her. something something escaped with jowan maybe, found her relatives in lothering, sought refuge with them and when bethany ended up dying it was way lower profile for amell to take the place of her cousin than try to get in to kirkwall with them as a non-immediate family member (especially given that leandra is publicly coming in as an amell and theres a resemblance and its known revka had mage kids taken to the circle and im sure theres a bulletin out or whatever for an escaped apostate matching amells description). points if people comment on how ‘bethany’ clearly takes after her mother. leandra is not normal about it. aveline knew the real bethany at least in passing bc of living in the same town and treats this as a reason for her distrust of hawke and co and one of the reason she sabotages carvers application with the guard. 

[chibichibisha]

The DA II run I'm doing right now is to properly place what exactly my non-playable Amell does during the years at Kirkwall and let me tell you, his rivalry/friendship with Cullen here is so juicy. They go from friendly silly flirting to an absolute shit show the moment the Broken Circle ends, and now at Kirkwall they are clearly frenemies, in completely different opposites, and it's like, they know what the other knows. They know their past, they cannot hide it to protect themselves. Not with the other. And that's the thing.

And god, Amell would be so petty at Cullen at the Gallows courtyard. Like picture you are there as usual and suddenly Cullen says "You cannot trick Meredith. She will always see the demon behind that sweet face" and Amell can't help but think Cullen is projecting SO MUCH.

He is there fumbling and thinking: Please. This isn't about Meredith's righteous duty. This isn't about poor martyr templars and their lost battle either. All the excuses you believe are because you think this is about you and how you like to think you were the only victim. The audacity of this.

Because guess who was also traumatized at the Broken Circle?? And I love it.

[halfbloodsnowy]

Chapter 17: Knight-Captain

9:37 - DRAGON - The day of the Chantry Explosion in Kirkwall

Ruvena nudged Cullen, "Don't make it obvious, but look over there."

He waited with an awkward faux glance around while scratching the back of his neck before gazing sideways out of the armory's window. 

"Oh that wasn't obvious at all…" Ruvena joked.

Ignoring her, he groaned inwardly at the sight of Meredith throwing yet another fit in the courtyard.

"Not this again," he murmured.

Her unintelligible streams of profanity and apoplectic rage were directed, unsurprisingly, at yet another raw recruit. The spit flying out of her mouth coated the poor boy's face so thoroughly Cullen marveled at how he could remain facing her with his eyes wide open.

She suddenly backhanded the boy, kicking him down for good measure before storming away.

"Maker's mercy…"

"She's losing it I tell yah," Ruvena whispered in a sing-song voice that tapered off into a cackle. Cullen wondered if she was capable of any sort of empathy at all. 

"It's been stressful, with the Circles," he snapped back, pinching the bridge of his nose to try and stem the headache he felt coming on, "but she shouldn't abuse the initiates. I'll need to…" he trailed off, looking up. The situation had been threatening to boil over for years, and with Knight-Commander Meredith and First Enchanter Orsino clawing at each other's necks on a daily basis, it was becoming harder and harder for Cullen to help maintain the peace between the templars and mages of Kirkwall.

"I'll need to speak with her," he finished dumbly, and Ruvena huffed as she fastened the last clasp on her armor.

One side fought ruthlessly for the maintenance and control of the mages while the latter accused them of oppression and needless suspicion. Cullen knew there was truth to both sides, and it was only a matter of time before he'd have to step in and report them both to the Divine.

Magic exists to serve man, never to rule over him, he thought, but that didn't mean they had to treat the mages like beasts. A firm hand did not have to be inhumane, and no matter how he personally felt about mages or the fact he had once taken comfort in Knight-Commander Meredith's firm hand with the Circle, he knew she was now crossing lines that shouldn't be crossed.

Ruvena shook her head and sheathed her sword, oblivious to Cullen's turmoil, "I can't believe she has us spying on that Amell woman again, or is it Hawke? I can't bloody remember."

"Hawke," said Cullen, glad to be distracted from his miserable thoughts. He knew Ruvena was only pretending to be confused, on account of her rabid hatred of nobility, because everyone in Kirkwall knew who the Champion was. Hawke had saved them from a Qunari invasion, earning quite the reputation for herself and her lucky compatriots. Combined with her other socially questionable associations, it was likely there wasn't a single soul in Kirkwall and possibly the borders of Ferelden who didn't know who she was.

"Though I suppose she's the last real representative of the Amell family now, considering what happened with her mother," Cullen added, shaking his head, "what a sad way for the Amells to go, Maker rest her soul."

"Fucking blood mages," Ruvena grumbled, and then spat out the window. Sometimes Cullen was a bit taken aback by how gruff she was, though there was a bit of charm to it, if he thought about it long enough.

"Let's go and get this over with," he sighed, and they both left the garrison, careful to avoid bumping into Knight-Commander Meredith.

Cullen did not want to spy on Hawke again. He let Ruvena know as much, he hated seeing her up close. Talking with her strained him, and he had only reluctantly agreed to work with her out of necessity. Even though she carried the name Hawke, her face was just a little too similar to an Amell he once knew, and the way she laughed always sent a cold pang of longing through his heart.

Why must she sound so much like… her?

He grimaced, the dread of old memories flooding into him.

The memories always came at the worst times, things as simple as walking through the market and seeing a flash of dark curls, or catching the scent of rose, and her face would slam right back into his mind as if he had just seen her.

He could see it all, her smile, the way she furrowed her brow while she studied, and then he would remember the sway of her hips as she walked through the halls.

He balled his armored hand into a fist, he felt his face flush and he hated himself. Knowing a mage had once caused him to stray was humiliating, and then of course, he felt his chest tighten with old fear.

A demon had tormented him, sent by Uldred with her face to try and seduce him to their side. But try as it might, the demon had failed. He hadn't broken. He survived the massacre when so many of his friends had not. Was it the timely intervention of the Grey Wardens? Or did he have some superhuman will that the other templars seemed to lack? Deep down he knew he was just lucky. A teenaged recruit that even Uldred hadn't thought much of, and so he was forgotten, left for last because he didn't matter enough to worry about.

His skin prickled at the memory of Uldred, the Senior Enchanter turned blood mage had attempted to use the chaos of the fifth blight to wrangle control of Kinloch Hold for himself, possessing templars and mages alike. Cullen often wondered how successful the demon might've been in swaying him if he hadn't parted with Amell on such horrific terms. With every sweet word out of the demon's mouth, he remembered Amell's face, the look of betrayal directed squarely at him.

It was only after the weeks of torture he had endured at the hands of Uldred and his demon that he had stopped mourning the loss of Kena. She shouldn't have helped Jowan, it didn't matter that she didn't know he was a maleficar. They had rules for a reason, that much was proven quite clearly the day Jowan escaped.

Magic was dangerous, and he was a fool for believing mages were harmless.

So it was with an unfortunate situation that whenever he spoke with Hawke he always dreamt of her, which meant he remembered the demon. It was a tiring competition between desire and fear and he found himself resenting Hawke for forcing the memories to return, but he swallowed his feelings, and was cordial. Just as he was raised to be.

Involuntarily gulping as they approached the Hightown road Amell Manor was on, Cullen found himself agitated and in a foul mood, as usual when sent on these spying expeditions.

"You look sweaty," Ruvena laughed, and she pulled a twig of embrium from her pocket, holding it out to Cullen, "chew on this before you keel over."

Cullen was distracted, and refused. Ruvena shrugged, biting on the twig herself, "Why are you so afraid of Hawke?"

"Wh-what?" he stuttered, and they began patrolling the street, trying to pretend they weren't spying.

"I am not afraid," he finally spat.

"You are, you always end up sweaty and bothered after you speak with her," she teased, and then she suddenly gasped.

"What?!" Cullen hissed, looking around, but Ruvena had a smirk on her face.

"You like her don't you?" she cooed, poking at his side, and Cullen's face flushed red.

"I absolutely do not, Maker! Ruvena, how could you say that?" he whispered, insulted at her insinuations. He most definitely did not have feelings for Hawke, the woman was obnoxious, crude and always smelled of sweat and blood.

She was, in all honesty, a bit repulsive to him.

But because of the few traits that reminded him of… her, he couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. He knew he could never explain any of this to Ruvena without opening up a vat of worms he did not want to deal with.

"Oh, don't mind me, it's not like I've been sleeping with you for the last two years," she had a playful look on her face, as if she enjoyed the sight of Cullen bothered a little too much, "you dream about an Amell you know. I hear you moaning her name in your sleep sometimes, usually after we see Hawke."

"You what?!" Cullen hissed.

"Oh Kena… Amell…. Ohhhhhhh," Ruvena threw her head back and cackled, thoroughly enjoying the mortified expression on Cullen's face.

He nearly tripped on a loose flagstone and coughed, he hadn't realized he spoke in his sleep, and he felt very angry that Ruvena hadn't mentioned it before, "You… you…" his face was uncomfortably hot.

"Oh come on, you can tell me," she said, nudging him in the side, "what happened at that Circle in Ferelden? You wouldn't be the first templar to mess around with a mage."

"Maker, stop Ruvena," Cullen groaned, turning fifty shades of red and trying his hardest to remain calm.

"Oh come on!" she exclaimed, "We're pals aren't we? Just tell me, I swear I won't spread it around."

"Pals?" he said, suddenly annoyed at the reminder of their strange dynamic, "We've been going out for two years, I'd say that's a bit more than just pals Ruvena, and I'd like it if you would be a bit understanding--."

Ruvena laughed and slapped him on the shoulder, "Maker you're a comedian, you know that?"

Cullen didn't laugh, "Why am I a comedian?"

She stopped chuckling and wiped a tear from her eye. When she finally looked up at Cullen, her face went serious, "Wait…" she stopped in her tracks and shook her head, "you mean to tell me… you thought we--"

"Well, I know it's been two years, usually in Ferelden we marry much sooner. I just thought that in Kirkwall the women like to take their time--"

"Wait, marry? I'm sorry, what?" she scoffed and blinked in confusion, "Damn it all Cullen, sleeping with someone and having a relationship are two very different things!"

Cullen, once again, felt very stupid and nervously massaged his temple, "I… I thought you were happy with our arrangement."

"Yeah…" she trailed off, "but I never said our arrangement was anything more than… what it's been."

He wrinkled his brow at Ruvena, unsure how to answer. He hadn't actually had a conversation with Ruvena about their relationship, he just sort of assumed it was one. He had written off all the strangeness as just another facet of the socially liberated culture of the Free Marchers he didn't quite understand. Though he did wonder why Ruvena insisted they keep their relationship secret.

And then he bit his lip, suddenly quite aware of his own Ferelden stupidity.

"I…" Cullen began, but he sighed, too flustered to think about it further, "can we not do this in public? Perhaps later?"

If there was one thing he was an expert at, it was avoiding conversations that made him uncomfortable.

Ruvena shrugged and walked under the shade of a balcony, leaning against a filigree stone pillar and staring straight at the Amell manor's front door.

"Maker, she'll know you're spying," Cullen argued, trying to look inconspicuous.

"Come off it," Ruvena said, crossing her arms and chewing her embrium loudly. She seemed bothered now, and he dreaded what their later conversation would entail.

He hadn't seen her so agitated before.

"As if the precious Champion of Kirkwall doesn't already know we're spying," she said, venom thick in her voice. She tilted her chin upward toward the manor with a laugh. Cullen followed her gaze and met the baubled eyed stare of an elven servant staring out of Hawke's bedroom window.

Cullen quickly turned around and cursed under his breath.

"Told you they knew we were spying, Meredith really is a fool," Ruvena grumbled.

Cullen looked back, and the elf was gone, but the Mabari was now panting at them from the second floor window, and it all felt so absolutely ridiculous that they were even there.

"We should just leave," he began, but Ruvena shook her head.

"No, we'll plant our butts here until something interesting happens or the night hits," she scratched at a scab on her chin and continued her shameless staring at Hawke's front door.

Cullen swallowed and futilely tried to remain inconspicuous, though he knew there was really no point anymore.

He had nearly dozed off while standing when he felt Ruvena's armored elbow clang into the side of his breast plate.

"Look!" she whispered excitedly.

Hawke's apostate companion, Anders, stormed out of the manor. The black feathers of his robe fluttered obnoxiously with every step.

Cullen was baffled at how the mage could so wantonly try and announce his apostasy to the templars in Kirkwall, and he figured it was some form of arrogance. It was no secret they had been hunting him for months. The rumored do-gooder apostate who used his abilities to heal the poor in Darktown was nearly as famous as the Champion.

And once Anders had attached himself to the Champion of Kirkwall, well, none of that mattered anymore. Anders had become untouchable.

It sounded nice on paper of course, an apostate with a heart of gold, but Cullen knew better. If only the common folk understood the dangers of magic, had seen what he had seen, they wouldn't have so wantonly harbored an apostate.

Cullen felt that Anders had begun throwing his untouchable status in their faces, knowing full well that to harass the healer of Darktown, and the friend of the Champion, would only bring the ire and hatred of Kirkwall's denizens even harder onto the Order.

They're waning popularity was already something they were struggling to contain, so even Meredith had allowed them to look the other way when it came to Anders.

But she hadn't given up on trying to catch him in the act of something sinister. Something even the "common fools" couldn't turn their back on, as Meredith had mused on many occasions.

Cullen angrily watched the apostate, strutting about Hightown as if he owned the place when suddenly, for a moment, he was certain he saw the man's eyes glow blue.

Anders stopped in his tracks and leaned onto the wall, slamming his hand over his brow and muttering to himself. His body was tense, as if he were in a great amount of pain.

"Did you…" Cullen whispered, shocked, "see that?"

Ruvena stopped chewing on her embrium and met Cullen's gaze, "I sure did…"

Anders suddenly stood upright, slightly adjusting his collar and flashing a strained smile at a passing noblewoman before he was strutting off as normal. Only the Maker knew what he had planned, but there was no denying something wasn't right about him now.

Cullen furrowed his brow, "We should let Meredith know, if he's an abomination--"

Ruvena spat the chewed embrium onto the ground, "Not even Hawke can protect him from that. I can't believe we actually spied something useful," stomping away, Ruvena seemed to be in a rather cheerful mood suddenly.

But Cullen felt uneasy. Something was off. The day was coming to an end but he was suddenly very much awake. There were clouds rolling into the sky and a sourness in the air that was probably all just in his head, and though he knew it didn't make sense, Cullen felt something evil was coming.

His stomach twisted into knots at the thought.

"Come on!" Ruvena called over her shoulder, and he jogged after her, praying to the Maker that he was wrong.

**********

Galel sprinkled the herbs in a massive circle around Kena. She was stripped down to her underclothes and laying on her back with her feet just near the lower edge of the circle.

"Dagger," he said, holding his hand out for the blade. Jowan coated it in deep mushroom paste and placed the hilt in Galel's hand.

He noticed the sweat dripping into his friend's eyes. If Galel was this nervous, how safe could the ritual really be?

Jowan looked warily at Kena, "It's going to hurt," he warned, "are you sure you're ok with this?"

Kena's eyes were squeezed shut, and she frowned. Jowan knew she was afraid of what would come next. The rapid rise and fall of her chest signaled as much, but she silently gave him a thumbs up and dropped her arm back to her side. Jowan knew by her expression he shouldn't press the issue further.

"The first one now," Galel said softly to Kena. He placed the tip of his dagger on her chest, and in a swift motion carved a swirling symbol, the blood slid down her side and pooled beneath her. Jowan looked at her, searching for any sign of distress, but her face was expressionless.

He wiped the sweat from his brow, her reaction was unnatural, and now that the ritual was underway he wasn't sure he was making the right decision by helping.

Maker guide me.

Kena knew the pain was there, but it felt far away. She couldn't remember when, but there had been a point during the numerous torture sessions at Aeonar that she had learned to stop feeling pain like this. Cuts, and pricks didn't hurt if she didn't want them to. She felt Galel's dagger digging into her flesh like a distant nuisance.

"The second one," he said, and he began carving into her thigh, "now the third," and then her arm. He announced each move before he made it, and he worked quickly. Carving the symbols all over her skin with gentle, quick precision. Unlike the templars at Aeonar, his movements were calming, and in an odd way she felt relaxed. Pampered even.

 "Done," he finally breathed, and Kena risked opening her eyes, peeking down at herself.

"That's a lot of blood," she mused, looking at Galel's sweat drenched face, he seemed more nervous than her.

"You'll feel better, once the ritual is done," he said, and held the dagger out to Jowan, "place the same symbols on me, in the same way."

Jowan's hands were shaking, but once he took the bloodied dagger, something in his expression changed, and he seemed calm.

Galel laid out on his back, head to head with Kena. 

"Galel?" she whispered.

"Yes?"

Kena turned to face him, and their noses were nearly touching.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Galel swallowed, his voice caught in his throat for a moment.

"You... you have to lay still," he finally croaked, and he returned his gaze to the sky, "save your thanks for after, if this works."

"I know it will," said Kena, and she relaxed into the earth, her eyes closed.

Jowan placed the tip of the dagger on Galel's chest a little roughly, "Ready?" he said, and Galel detected a bit of venom in his voice.

Galel grabbed Jowan's hand, and made eye contact with him, "Are you ok Jowan?"

Jowan seemed to suddenly realize his behavior, and cleared his throat, "I… yes I am," his gaze darted to Kena quickly, before it returned to Galel, "I'm ready."

The elf wasn't sure what to make of Jowan's mood, but he knew there was no point in dwelling on it now, he'd speak with Jowan later.

"Go ahead," Galel said, and Jowan began to carve.

He had to bite his tongue to keep from yelping, the pain was intense. His hands were balled into fists as Jowan cut the symbols into his skin. Unlike Kena, he clearly felt every bit of it.

Kena seemed positively blissful, laying in her own blood, and Galel was both impressed and horrified at how easily she accepted pain.

From the way Jowan had described her, it seemed that Aeonar had changed her deeply. This was no timid, scared mage. She was cold, and she could endure much more than he was led to believe.

This had better work…

**********

"Done," gasped Jowan, relieved to be finished with cutting at Galel's body. "It's time now."

"Let's do it already!" said Kena, excitement in her voice.

Jowan stood up, and held the dagger to his right hand, above Kena and Galel's faces, "Maker help us all."

He sliced his palm in a quick, swift motion. The sensation was familiar, and he immediately felt the electric whips of power in his blood. His skin prickled, and his face flushed.

He had missed the feeling.

He took a deep breath, and whirled his hands above his head, building his speed until he looked like the fire dancers of Rivain. A whorling mist of blood and herbs rose into the air, and the bloody symbols on Galel and Kena's skin began to bubble and burn like hot coals.

Kena finally winced in pain, and Galel yelled out.

Jowan suddenly wanted to stop, subconsciously slowing his movements.

"Keep going!" screamed Galel, "You can't stop now!"

Jowan steeled himself, and ramped up speed until the symbols peeled off their skin. They danced, intertwining in a vortex above them. Jowan could feel warm specks of their blood splattering him on the face.

It felt like hot grease on his skin, and pulled at him, the blood reacting to his power imbued him with a frenzied sense of invincibility. He began to remember why he had been drawn to this type of magic all those years ago. He enjoyed the feeling of power blood gave him, the way it made his heart race and flutter the way it did when he first kissed Lily.

He reveled in it.

And then Lily's disappointed face flitted into his mind, and he nearly lost focus.

Remember why you're doing this…

He began to tie the symbols together, "Like tying knots in a string," Galel had explained to him. Each glowing bloody symbol began to twist, braid and form an ethereal rope in the air above them. Jowan was channeling the power in their blood. It was intoxicating, mind bending, and he was spinning the ethereal rope until it was a blurred ring of flame whistling above them.

And then it froze in place, and for a moment, Jowan thought he must've made a mistake. The bloody mist slammed to the ground around Galel and Kena and he felt utterly drained.

"Did it work?" he wheezed, the emptiness the blood magic had left in his chest was equally exhausting as it was heartbreaking, and he wiped his watery eyes on his shoulder before bending over and resting his hands on his knees. 

Galel and Kena sat up, the symbols replaced by slight, silvery, scars. 

Kena stood up and examined herself, "I feel good," she said, looking up at Jowan, "my mind is finally... quiet."

Galel rose to his feet and swayed, Kena reached out to help steady him, and he smiled at her, resting his hand on her forearm, "It worked."

"How can you tell for sure?" said Jowan, cleaning the dagger off.

"We're connected now, I can feel it," said Galel, blinking as if he had a headache, "she'll be hidden behind me, in the fade. They won't be able to sense her as long as we stay close to one another."

"How close?" Kena asked, grabbing her clothes and pulling them on.

"A few miles, maybe more or less," Galel slowly bent over to pick up his tunic and winced, his hand darting to his temple. He rubbed it for a moment before gingerly pulling his clothing on.

"Are you alright?" Jowan asked, but Galel waved him off.

"I'm fine. The ritual… it was exhausting," he said, and then forced a smile.

Something in his expression seemed off to Jowan, but he didn't want to press it further.

"Kena, are you alright?" Jowan asked, pivoting toward his friend, "No… lingering strangeness?"

Amell shrugged, "No, I actually feel pretty damn good." 

She jumped up and down and stretched, "Barely any aches and pains."

Jowan felt like Kena seemed to be acting a bit like her old self, but it had only been minutes since the ritual was complete. And he wasn't sure if it was just wishful thinking.

Kena laced her boots and looked at him, "You should find Lily, it'll be dark soon."

Jowan handed the dagger back to Galel, "Right."

Kena stared at him for a moment, and he was so grateful she was looking at him without a look of hatred that he couldn't pull himself to move away, and then she finally offered a weak smile, "Thank you, Jowan."

Jowan smiled so hard he was sure he pulled a muscle in his neck, but he couldn't help it, seeing her smile, at him, after all these years beating himself up for what he had done. He felt a renewed burst of energy, and ran over to hug her.

She was stiff, and didn't hug him back, but at least she wasn't trying to force him away.

"Thank you Maker," he thought, " I'll never screw this up again."

**********

Cullen and Ruvena reached the Gallows quickly, but it was already getting dark and templars were storming about the courtyard in a panic.

Cullen grabbed a young recruit rushing past him, but he was shoved off. The young recruit spun to face him and went pale when he realized he had just shoved the Knight-Captain.

"Maker, oh, shit…" the recruit saluted Cullen, "Knight-Commander Meredith says we must prepare to capture blood mages, she stormed out of here after Orsino, he was heading for the Chantry to protest."

"Protest what man?!" Cullen yelled, grabbing the recruit by the neck of his breastplate and yanking him forward.

"We're going to search the mages quarters!" the recruit yelled, fear in his eyes, and Cullen felt instantly guilty for losing his temper. 

He groaned in frustration and released the young recruit.

"She can't do that without the permission of First Enchanter Orsino and the Grand Cler--"

"She's finally lost it!" Ruvena exclaimed, "The paranoid bitch!"

"Ruvena!" Cullen yelled, "You will not speak of the Knight-Commander that way!"

Cullen turned back to the recruit and sighed, "Until I've confirmed--"

There was a sudden rumble, and the templars, vendors and civilians milling about the Gallows all paused.

The pressure in the air plummeted, and the sick feeling in Cullen's gut turned into a storm in his insides.

"Cullen…" hissed Ruvena, "what is--"

An ear splitting whistle cut through the air.

A red beam shot straight up into the sky, a cloud of smoke and dust cascading upward into the air behind it.

"Everyone take cover!" Cullen yelled, "Ruvena!"

"On it," she yelled back, jumping into action and ushering civilians and recruits toward the cover of the balconies. The beam continued to burn in the sky as stone, and dust and whatever it was crawled up along the beam into the sky, swirling into a cloud of fast moving refuse.

And then there was a boom that nearly threw Cullen off his feet.

He barely managed to yank a merchant and his son behind a pillar as a thick wave of dust and smoke slammed into them. It was only a moment, his skin stinging from the wave, and when he opened his eyes, all was white, and deathly silent.

"Cullen?" came Ruvena's voice emerged from the cloud and then she coughed, her blond head popping out of the miasma and wiping dust from her eyes.

"Maker, are you alright?" he said, rushing over to make sure she wasn't injured.

Ruvena swatted him away and examined the mess, "Maker's balls, what just happened?"

As the confused cries and panic began to spring from the denizens of the Gallows, Cullen took in a deep breath, and steeled himself.

It was mages, of that he was certain, and unlike the massacre at Kinloch Hold, he would make sure he protected his friends this time.

"Gather the senior templars, there will be a battle tonight," he commanded, looking squarely at Ruvena.

Ruvena crossed her arms across her chest and bowed low, her earlier perturbed expression replaced with deep lines of worry. As soon as she rose, she began commanding the others, and rounding the civilians.

Cullen breathed out, he hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath. He felt his mind slipping, he didn't know how much longer he could cling on.

He was suddenly aware of a clinking sound, and he looked down to see his hands shaking. He balled his hands into fists and stumbled backward, blindly, barely managing to find a secluded area under the balcony where he collapsed against a pillar, shaking and sweating and barely able to breathe.

The smell of destruction, the screams, and the look of terror on the recruit's faces were bringing back the memories he had thought were behind him. He tried to suck in a breath, but felt suffocated and grasped at his breastplate in a futile attempt to rip it off. He was shaking badly, his armored fingers clumsy and lost, against his own neck and his vision was blurred with tears.

Uldred's face flitted at him, and he slammed his eyes shut.

Stop, please… not now!

The depravities of the senior enchanter came back full force, he hadn't had an attack this bad in years.

And then he heard a woman's voice in his ear and he spun around with a yelp. An image of her face slammed into his mind, and he was once again back in Ferelden's Circle Tower. The demon with her face cackling in his mind like a sick joke.

"Enough!" he cried out, waves of negation bursting off him.

And then his mind cleared, and he looked around, breathing a sigh of relief that no one had seen his little tumble down the rabbit hole. He gritted his teeth and clambered back to his feet, the echoes and memories fading into an annoying whisper. His head was pounding, the blood rushing in his ears so hard he couldn't hear.

He began muttering the Benedictions to himself, the way he was told to do after his ordeal:

"Blessed are they who stand before

The corrupt and the wicked and do not falter.

Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just."

He felt his heart calm and he breathed out, the dizziness waning. He tried to focus on how heavy his armor was, and on the smell of ash and fire filling the air:

"Blessed are they who stand before

The corrupt and the wicked and do not falter.

Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just."

He took in a deep breath, and left the safety of the pillar. This was no time to fall apart. Kirkwall needed him:

"Blessed are they who stand before

The corrupt and the wicked and do not falter.

Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just."

The screaming of a commoner nearly sent him reeling again, but he bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood, and he kept reciting.

And reciting.

And reciting until all he could hear or think was the Chant. Andraste would save them, the way she had saved him all those years ago.

Cullen Rutherford hadn't clawed his way out of Ferelden, suffered humiliations at Meredith's hands and earned himself the title of Knight-Captain just to fall apart because of bad memories.

He took a deep breath, and steeled himself.

"Knight-Captain! There are reports of apostates at the Docks! The Champion is with them!" a young recruit screamed.

Cullen clasped the young man on the shoulder, "Do not falter! We must secure the Gallows first, the Docks can wait until later!"

The recruit nodded, relieved to have orders, and Cullen shoved him on his way.

"Maker help us all," he whispered to himself.

[sidhelives]

The lovely @hazelestelle tagged me ☺️

Rules: List the First Line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!

I love this one. Let's jump in.

Every Man to his Taste

Dragon Age - Zevran Arainai/Jowan - M Rating

Jowan hadn't known what to expect from Orzammar.

Magical Mishap

Dragon Age - Jowan/Merrill - E Rating

"Uh oh."

Let Sleeping Hawkes Lie

Dragon Age - Female Hawke/Cullen Rutherford - E Rating ⚠️ Consent Warning

It was dark when Cullen woke, the faded edges of a nightmare fading from his memory before he even opened his eyes.

Show Me the Steep and Thorny Way to Heaven

Pillars of Eternity - Aloth Corfiser/The Watcher - E Rating ⚠️ Consent Warning

It was a fine, clear evening; a welcome relief given the recent abysmal weather.

Five Times Alim and Fenris Said Goodbye and One Time They Didn't

Dragon Age - Fenris/Male Surana - G Rating

It had been a bad idea to come alone.

Firestorm

Dragon Age - Anders/Nathaniel Howe - E Rating

The Darkspawn were tenacious, Nathaniel would give them that.

To Serve at my Lady's Pleasure

Dragon Age - Female Hawke/Sebastian Vael - E Rating

Even in the dim light of the street lamps, the bright wood of the Amell Estate’s front door gleamed like a beacon.

Respite in Redcliffe

Dragon Age - Zevran Arainai/Female Cousland - E Rating

“You know,” Zevran commented lightly, removing his shirt. “I have despoiled noble ladies before; though you are the first to be so direct in your request.”

Listen Closely - Chapter 12: Never kill a Dark Brother or Dark Sister

Skyrim - Cicero/Female Listener - M Rating

Blending in with a crowd, being invisible while walking openly among people, was a careful line to walk.

Title is Mutable and Subject to Change

Balder's Gate 3 - General - G Rating

They looked so peaceful, didn't they?

Sorry for all the smut 😅 caught me during Smutquisition season.

Looking for trends: 3/10 start with the word "It" which is interesting. Outside of that, I set up the setting and/or the POV in the first sentence a bit, or try to catch attention with a short, unresolved statement. Not too much exact overlap though, which I'll take.

Tagging: @fiannans @jrastegar @kittynomsdeplume @lordnochybaty @rosella-writes @starsandskies @the-cryptographer

[samseabxrn]

Happy Friday! For DADWC, how about a three word prompt for Glass, Bliss, & Gesture!!!

Happy Friday!! I have some M!Amell/Cullen mutual pining (that got out of hand) for @dadrunkwriting !

WC: ~1500

As he scales the steps to Enchanter Uldred’s office, Cullen can’t help but take his time. It’s a slow day, syrupy in the way time moves. Dismal weather. It’s been storming for days now. The whole tower is damp, the smell of mildew creeping into the templar quarters, rising off of the carpet. This kind of weather always has him thinking—of the past, of home. All the things he’s trying to forget. And since he left, of Amell, who’d spend long hours in the library on these wet days, catching up on assignments, he assumes.

He gestured gracefully. Like a noble. Cullen was fascinated with the tilt of his fingers through the air. And it happened a lot, when Amell explained something to his friend. Cullen’s never met a noble, but he’s read about them. Knows they’re elegant, or they should be, and that’s what Amell was. Is.

And he’s in the library again. Rain pattering against the window glass as Amell talks to Jowan, hushed tones and Cullen stares ahead at the wall across the room trying to ignore the low twinge in his back.

“And the last ingredient is…” Amell traces the blank in the air, long fingers carving out space.

“Witherstalk.”

“Good, Jowan. I told you you’re getting it.”

He should be thinking of them as Apprentice, talking to another Apprentice, he knows. The capitalization is important. Like characters in a stage play, enter left, exit right. Cullen loves stories. That’s why he looks forward to library duty.

“Right, ser?” His eyes snap back to the boy, his own eyes shining out of his face and his mouth set serious.

He doesn’t say anything and the smile starts to form, something unleashed from behind his lips. And Maker, it’ll be over for him now if he catches that glint of teeth, brilliant in the low light.

“Did you need something?” he asks, but he can’t quite keep the smile out of his own voice, and Amell’s eyes crinkle.

“I was saying to Jowan that the weather has been beautiful. And wouldn’t it be nice to go out for a walk?”

The knight-commander has been talking about the physical activity courses. Been getting riskier to hold them outside, especially after the last boy who ran. But he can’t bring himself to say any of this to the boy, for some stupid reason. “It’s windy,” he says. And then he imagines it, the two of them on a walk, and perhaps Jowan there too, why not. Cullen wouldn’t have to watch him, but he would anyway, he knows.

He’d wear the sunlight well, the fractions that come through the painted windows a pale imitation. He’s tall, lanky, and he’d look at peace among the trees, solid and stocky. They’d stretch up against the wood and climb and they’d get to be children again, not nineteen and grown the way the knight-commander scolds him. It’s a familiar sight, this daydream.

He’s placed Amell in the tree on his family’s farm. Sturdy wood. A swing his father made, rope dangling by his legs. He shouldn’t be thinking of this.

“It’s also raining,” Jowan says flatly, and Amell laughs at that, something about how he meant earlier in the week, obviously not now, and Cullen is still thinking about the way his hair falls into his face and how it would be ruffled by the wind, and how the image is perhaps the most natural thing to him, Amell in the woods with the wind in his hair and his deep skin tanned deeper by the sun.

“Even yesterday it was sunny,” he adds.

Greagoir came in then, and a door slams now, and Cullen comes back to himself, worried by how long he’s spent dreaming in this corner of the stairwell, by how big a part Amell played in his life before he left, and by how still he cannot seem to shake this selfish urge to miss him even if he is better suited out there, to the grass and the dirt and the unselfish life of a Warden.

Five hundred miles away, Amell cannot decide if it’s nerves or fear or even some strange sort of pride that has his palms sweaty as he reads The Circles of Magi across the top of the Grey Warden treaty he’s uncovered.

"It’s my home, Morrigan. We’ll go first.”

“It’s not wise. You would do well to go after your big man instead.” She turns her attention back to her robes, and Amell pushes down the rising frustration in his temples.

“You have an opinion?” he asks Alistair, but the other boy simply shrugs. And so they go to bed in the hopes a decision will appear in those clean hours of the morning.

For most of his life he has had the same dreams in rotation: that he’d run away, or that the Circle itself was gone. And most often, that he never had his magic at all. And he wondered which one the demons would tempt him with when he was Harrowed, yet it was something he never would have foreseen.

Tonight, he’s finally out, but he’s not free; still, he dreams of his only home. The grass is damp and cold like the walls of the tower, and Morrigan’s mana rubs up against his as she starts her fire, wild and shameless in a way he can’t understand, and Alistair is half a templar snoring lightly by his feet. All different and yet familiar.

It is the morning after his Harrowing and he thinks, of course. Isn’t that always what dreams are supposed to be about? The things you want and the things you couldn’t change. The carpet is soft under his feet, soft with the security of survival.

He goes to the chapel, one of the few places he can go this early without someone seeing it as suspicious. He only ever went there to work before, but in the days before his Harrowing he would go to pray, consumed with a sensation that the walls were narrowing around him and perhaps he could claw his way out.

It’s so early that no one is up, the tower is quiet and still. He trails through the halls and lets his feet drag on the carpets, pausing at the windows to let the slants of stained sunlight paint across his face.

He’s probably not going to pray today either, as his eyes fall on the far edge of a pew in the front where the other sole occupant sits, templar armor harsh against wood, his head bowed in thoughtful contemplation, golden curls like cornsilk in the night. Even in this half-real world, Amell is hit with the rush of kind words and flushed cheeks and soft stutter, feelings washing over him in a cascade as he nears him.

“Did you have night duty?” he asks, and Cullen looks up.

He opens his eyes and looks around and when his eyes light in Amell for a moment he sees something like joy there, comparable to the pure bliss on his face when he comes in from a shift outside, from a trip across the lake. And it’s eclipsed, slightly, like a shadow falling.

“No, I…” He swallows thickly. “I’m glad to see you doing well.”

Clumsy, artless they both are.

“You weren’t there, were you?” In his bones he knows and he’s not sure why he asks. It is a long moment before Cullen respond, a moment that’s heavy, waterlogged.

“I was the one assigned to strike you down. If you fell.” he rasps. A confession, in the low light of the chantry when the sisters stepped out for a moment. He’s the only one left to hear it.

Amell doesn’t know what to say to that. Because he would have done it. That’s the way things are.

“I believed you would be strong enough, but still I prayed,” he continues, and that sounds like a confession too. It’s not a dream, it’s a memory, he sees, because he’s a mage and he can’t dream right. Not even now. He remembers this, that this was when he saw it: that there was a hole in Cullen that matched the one in him. The edges would catch. The hole could get bigger, or maybe they could close it up between them.

The walls are narrowing still, he wants to tell himself. Wants to rip away this fixation, this security that he will stay. It’s a poor attempt, this trip into the Fade. He aches for the days when he thought freedom was a real thing, withheld from him. For the days he wasn’t a real boy.

He bumps Cullen’s knee with his. Clumsy. Artless. And Cullen does it back, after a moment. The sister walks back in. Cullen stiffens, but he doesn’t move away. Amell looks down, and he’s forgotten his shoes.

He jolts awake then, upset in a thousand ways he can’t put into words.

He could have met him in a hundred different lives; why did it have to be this one? Amell could have been the barkeep at the Singing Maiden or a lay brother in the chapel or a merchant’s son in Ferelden, and it wouldn’t be armor and robes between them.

He will go to Redcliffe, he decides. Perhaps it will sting less with time and distance, all a balm to his wounds. To let that gap heal up. To make something of himself. It can all keep.

[hazelestelle]

Rarepairs! - A Dragon Age Black Emporium Exchange Rec List

Maybe a bit late, but then again, it's never too late to read great fic, right? ;)

So here are some recs from the @black-emporium-exchange

First, of course the amazing gifts I got! Every year, I'm so blown away by everyone's generosity and talent <3

Subtlety by SidheLives, Female Hawke/Loghain Mac Tir, Explicit

It has it all: Fake Relationship, Bed Sharing, Feelings, and really great smut. I love this fic so much!

Mistakes have consequences by Toshi_Nama, Female Hawke/Loghain Mac Tir, Mature

More Loghain for me, and it's so good! Hurt/Comfort and Enemies to Lovers, yes thank you!!

Vigil Kept by SidheLives, Jowan/Male Surana, General

It's so sweet! Thinking the other one is dead so that pushes you to confess your feelings? Always a great trope!

And some other fics, that weren't specifically written for me, but are just as amazing!

Reaching Out to Him by MeganMoonlight, Zevran Arainai/Jowan, Teen and Up

Not a pairing I ever considered, by I love them both, and this is so lovely!

Special Delivery by taintandlothering, Anders/Cullen Rutherford, Teen and Up

It's so sweet and lovely and funny at the same time! Spot on character voices!

The Maker's Sense of Humor by Toshi_Nama, Gamlen Amell/Orana, Teen and Up

Soulmate AUs always get, and I never thought of those two together, but it works so well!

Looking for a Bargain by SidheLives, Mouse/Male Surana, Explicit

Demon Sex? Demon Sex! So hot and such an interesting dynamic!

xX dReAM a LitTLe DreAm oF ME Xx by Anonymous, Nonbinary Lavellan/Solas, Mature

It's a My Immortal retelling, and I died laughing! Seriously, I couldn't breathe. Please comment so that they get 5 good "revows" and we get the sequel next year XD

And of course, go check out all the other wonderful works in the collection too!

(Sorry for the long post, but there's a lot of good stuff there!)

[lexadovah]

Hero of Ferelden Info Sheet

(Stolen from @dreadhorsegirl )

Basic Details

Name: Astrid Amell

Nicknames: Asta

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexual/Romantic Orientation: Bisexual

Age: 19 at start of events in DAO

Height: 5'5

Build: Slim

Race/Ethnicity: Human-Free Marcher

Skintone: Pale with some freckles on her nose

Hair: Strawberry blond

Eyes: Blue-grey

Game specifications

Class: Mage

Specialization: Primal and Entropy, later on Arcane Warrior

Origin: Circle Mage

Religious Beliefs: Agnostic, later on she becomes more interested in what the Old Gods could be (basically follows Morrigan’s line of thinking) and how this connects to the Fade etc

Major Game Decisions

Love Interest: Alistair

Broken Circle: Mages Supported

The Arl of Redcliffe: Isolde sacrificed for the blood magic ritual, Connor alive and not possessed

Nature of the Beast: Brokered Peace

The Battle of Denerim: Warden killed archdemon & alive and well—Alistair made an Old God Baby with Morrigan

Ruler of Ferelden: Anora

Character Attributes

Timid to Assertive scale:

Timid ◦ ◦ ◦ ◦ ● Assertive

Logical to Emotional scale:

Logical ◦ ● ◦ ◦ ◦ Emotional

Introvert to Extrovert scale:

Introvert ◦ ● ◦ ◦ ◦ Extrovert

Biggest Strength: Fearlessness, not afraid to face anyone head on. Has a very “I’ll do it myself” attitude

Biggest Weakness: Acts without thinking, can come across as careless

Relationship to Family: Doesn’t know who her father is, never met any of her siblings (she’s the youngest of five) and has vague memories of her mother but doesn’t really remember ever feeling safe or loved by her. She has vague memories of her cousins from her childhood and later reconnects with Bethany in the Wardens

Closest Relationships: Jowan and Neria were her best friends during her time in the Circle. She had a relationship with Anders and a mutual crush on Cullen. Alistair and Morrigan during DAO. She was also good friends with Leliana and Zevran by the end of DAO and had mutual respect with Sten.

Core Desire: To have a family and a place to call home

Core Fear: Losing Alistair

Character Arc Theme: finding her place in the world. She’s “too big” for the Circle, she never knew her real family, (besides the Hawkes). She just wants to find her purpose and live happily with her found family

Backstory

Revka had left Kirkwall far behind when she gave birth to Astrid. On a small farm outside of Highever, Revka kept the tiny Astrid strapped to her chest while she tended the gardens and fed the chickens. But when she saw the Templars coming up the road, she disappeared.

The mother and child did not remain in any one place for long after that; she worked where she could to make enough coin to get by, be that collecting herbs for the nights stew in a tavern, or mucking out the stables at a crossroads inn. She never gave her real name, and never let the child spend too much time alone in the company of others.

One stormy night, when Astrid was just five years old, Revka appeared on her cousin Leandra’s doorstep. Tired from running, she hoped to find sanctuary with her estranged family, and remained for a few weeks. Her paranoia kept her at odds with her cousin, and Malcolm Hawke observed that Astrid was already showing signs of magic at an early age—the same as his daughter Bethany. The two young girls were of an age together and became fast friends in that time, the difference being that Bethany was taught to control her magic whereas Astrid was told to ignore it and pretend she wasn’t a mage.

After a heated argument between Malcolm and Revka—in which Malcolm had offered to teach Astrid how to control her powers and Revka forbade him to even look at her child—she disappeared again, Astrid in tow. A few days after this incident, the Templars finally caught up; to Astrid, alone, sitting on the side of the road bundled in nothing but the clothes on her back and a dirty old cloak wrapped about her tiny shoulders. No one ever saw or heard from Revka again.

Her time in the Circle was mostly uneventful. Astrid struggled to make friends and was behind in terms of knowing her numbers and letters. She was adamant that her mother would come back for her, which the other mage children teased her about, as no one’s mother was coming for them.

She eventually made friends with Jowan, a year older than her, who helped her catch up with her reading and writing. She was bunk mates with Neria Surana, who was the closest thing to a sister she had ever known. And despite her early struggles, she had remembered her cousin Malcolm’s words about taking control of your magic and not letting it rule you—she studied hard and gained a firm grasp on her powers, exceeding many other kids her age.

She became defiant as a teenager, asking questions about why they couldn’t be free and finding the rules of the Circle oppressive. She didn’t want to remain in this cage forever and longed for a life outside the Circle walls. Her instructors believed she could be an Enchanter one day, but that just Wasn’t Good Enough. Regardless she started buckling down and studying hard in the hopes of passing her Harrowing and opening opportunities to leave the tower for Circle related business.

It was during this time she felt a rift between herself and her two friends. Neria had become distant, choosing the company of other elf mages, and Jowan was often nowhere to be found. When she did speak with them, they found her constant studying annoying, claiming she was “giving in” to the system.

Astrid was excelling at most schools of magic, but was struggling with healing spells and was soon set up to be tutored by Anders (who was given the tutoring job as a punishment for his latest escapades and a hope to keep him busy). During long hours studying together and her loneliness she started a friends-with-benefits affair with Anders that carried on until he escaped a fifth and final time—but not before she had grasped healing magic enough to take her Harrowing…

[unlikelysaintdelele]

I wanna talk about my warden, so I'm gonna do that. Meet Adalia Amell.

Loyal to the Circle and her friends. Finds some piece of mind by following the Chantry, but wouldn't go so far as to call herself an Andrastian. She likes pretty dresses and reading books, from history to fiction. It's her only way to experience the outside world. She's rather studious and crafty, so she excelled in herbalism and poison-making. Her spell focus was in Elements (ice and electricity) and Spirit (death and telekinesis). But she was also restless, so she developed a silver tongue that allowed her to sneak around as she pleased and get her hands on whatever she desperately wanted in the moment. She completely lacks survival skills and has no real skill in fighting, only the theoretical sort. From all those books, of course. And she's kind. She loves doing things for other people. You could say her love language is acts of service.

She finds Cullen's crush on her endearing and likes pretending to be oblivious about it because of how he stutters. Is something wrong? Why are you so flushed, Cullen? Are you feeling sick? Here, let me check. However, she gets easily embarrassed if Jowan pokes fun at her about it. As a true child of the Circle, she never once attempts to pursue anything and simply leaves it as a small fancy. This overall leaves many under the impression that she has no feelings for Cullen and is barely aware of his affections got her. Her devastation to hearing what he said during their reunion, when the Circle was overtaken by demons, ran deep. She never loved him, but she always adored him. He would forever be her first Maybe.

When Jowan approaches her about destroying his Phylactery, she runs straight to the First Enchanter. She wants to help her best friend, but she simply cannot go against everything she knows as right. When she hears whispers of him practicing blood magic, she's naturally in denial. Doesn't believe up until he uses it to escape. When she reunites with him at Redcliffe, it's messy and hurt. He's apologetic but trust has been broken so she leaves him in the cell. After healing Arl Eamon, she has him sent back to the Circle. He is a Circle mage and he will be dealt with as such.

She was awestruck by Duncan pretty much the moment she met him. A Grey Warden! When she was chosen by him, she was excited and nervous but oh so eager to get out of the Circle because she would finally see the outside world. She was also annoyed because Greagoir wasn't listening to anything she or the First Enchanter were saying. She wouldn't dare betray the Circle. So it was either leave and see the world or stay and face unjust punishment. That's not the kindest situation to being pushed out of your own home. He low-key became a bit of a father figure. The First Enchanter was more like a Grandpa.

She's wary of Alistair when they first meet because of his Templar background but quickly warms up to him because of his humor. Jokes are good. She also likes the other recruits, even flirts with one of them, but doesn't bother to get to know anyone in detail because she assumes there will be time for that later... which was false. She definitely felt fear during the joining. Blinding, sickening fear. She did not want to die after barely stepping outside of the Circle. It was her desire to experience the world that overpowered her fear of death. She did not want to die, so she simply refused to accept that as an option. So she drank. And she survived.

She loves Morrigan. She finds her bitchy practicality amusing, and her bizarre childhood sad but also... kinda cool? What do you mean you shapeshifted to swipe a pretty mirror? Can you show me how to do that? She also finds her style fascinating as it's so different from the conservative Circle robes. It's almost definitely a one-sided friendship in the beginning, but the small twinge of sadness when they speak before going after the Archdemon... it's enough for Adalia to never hate her. She would never search for Morrigan after that.

Leliana is a completely different story. It's like she stumbled upon a long lost best friend she never knew she had. They bonded so quickly no one would've known they had just met a week ago. Adalia loved to hear the stories of Leliana's travels, and they would even gossip about Adalia's trysts with...

Alistair! How he wormed his way into her heart. They relied on each other when they were left to fight off the demons in the tower in Ostagar. It only deepened when they became the only Grey Wardens left in Ferelden, the only ones left who could understand what the other was going through. The nightmares. The being hunted down. Loghain's betrayal that resulted in Duncan's death. They found comfort in each other. Comfort that became clumsy flirting (from Alistair) and amused teasing (from Adalia) to frantic kisses stolen in the night that became complete trust and what little happiness they could find during the Blight. She comforted him after Goldana because he was kind and deserved to know his kindess was not a waste.

She supported Anora's bid for the throne because Alistair didn't want to be King and she never quite understood the need for maintaining bloodline within nobility. She was a Circle mage, where the children of nobility were stripped of their title and all birthrights the moment they walked in. To her, blood wasn't what mattered but rather capability and willingness. She had no doubt that Alistair would eventually grow into his role of he became King, but she didn't think it right to force him into a role he didn't even want. That was until Morrigan's ritual. For the first time, she would break away from everything that she had been taught. Not because she wasn't ready to sacrifice her life for all of Ferelden. But because she knew Alistair would follow her anywhere and would die protecting her. He would sacrifice himself so she could live. Not wanting to imagine a life without him, she selfishly clung to their love. Because of their trust in each other, Alistair reluctantly went through with the ritual.

Back to her friends! She found it rather upsetting that Sten didn't seem to like her. She found him hard to understand at first. She kept giving him paintings and prodding him about why he was caged. They eventually formed a deep respect for each other and their differences. Adalia finding him his sword definitely helped a bit. She also liked hearing his stories about the Qunari.

Zevran! Hmm.. annoying but funny. She thought it was hilarious how eager he was to switch sides if it meant he lived. She also loved hearing his wild stories as a Crow, especially with his Antivan accent. Her party thought she was foolish for trusting him, but Zevran was her most loyal friend at the end of the day. It probably helped that they shared the same sense of dry humor.

Oghren.. was too stupid and bizarre to hate. There was also some respect because, though he was a horn dog who would wander out of the marriage bed, he had a loyal heart. They weren't the closest, but they were friendly and would often chat at camp.

Wynne! Lovely Wynne! She became a grandma figure to Adalia. She took Wynne's advice to heart, even when she disagreed. She was particularly hurt by Wynne's first opinion about her relationship with Alistair. She knew there was some truth to Wynne's words, but she also thought Wynne was wrong about this. Of all things, what she had with Alistair was not wrong, was not bad. She also adores Wynne's naughtier side. Like how she would tease Alistair.

Some last details! She could not be bribed into evil acts and always sought compromise when she could. The Dalish lived and the werewolf curse was broken. She shut down the slave trade and saved the elder. She persuaded the demon in Connor to leave forever. She named her Mabari Firulais, making it ironic when someone would claim the dog was full of fleas. She was an Arcane Warrior and Shapeshifter. and she ran off into the sunset with the love of her life (and zevran, because he wanted to come along).

[waterdeers]

Amell/Surana/Jowan doodles ft cullen

[vigilskeep]

getting rejected by jowan in the mage origin is probably the most embarassing thing in the game. you mean to tell me not even this cringe fail loser (somewhat affectionate) is into me? but hey, at least the creepy cop guy who was supposed to kill you wants you so bad & everyone in the tower knows it!

i’ve never actually said that to jowan but sorry for ur loss every mage warden who did 😭

jowan is my poor little meow meow idiot little brother sopping wet rag of a man. i would lay down for my life for him to be able to continue his funny sad little jester routine of an existence but i could not want to kiss him less and the same is true of my surana. and i think my stance on cullen is clear. so to support the extent to which i have accepted “everyone was kissing everyone” into my worldview i have to just invent a string of exes for her. truly my work is never done. but hey maybe that’s what amell is for

[chibichibisha]

Introducing my Amell oc-turned-npc in the Dragon Age series~ A summary about him in my canon through the games:

Origins: Firstborn from Revkah Amell, a noble family from Kirkwall. Was taken to Kinloch Hold in Ferelden when he was a kid to separate him from his family, never met his younger siblings or saw his mother ever again. Grew up at the Circle tower and made friends among the very few Loyalists mages, sharing chants with them which made him be seen very Andrastian and pro-chantry to others. By this time, he was well aware of Cullen’s, a young templar, crush on him, and Amell who already had a mischivous personality, always decided to tease him in response, though it never developed in anything more. Once he succeded his Harrowing and turned into an Enchanter, Amell  aided Jowan in his attempt to escape, but was lied to by his friend, resulting in him helping a blood mage to leave the Circle. Because of this, Amell didn’t join the Wardens and was punished with isolation during some time, in which he specialized in shapeshifting magic in secret, since he was taught by a supossed demon called “Mouse” during his time in the Fade, in his Harrowing. He then mimicked the mice, his only companions during that time, escaping the tower’s cat, and resulting in his distaste for them since then. By the time Uldred’s conspiracy broke and the Circle was rampant with abominations and blood mages during the Blight, Amell was one of the few that stayed with Wynne and protected the children and other injured mages. Though he never showed any kind of ill feelings towards templars more than the ocassional bad individuals before, the templar’s actions about abandoning the mages to the abomination inside the tower made Amell start to grow angry and distrustful at the organization for the first time, rivalizing Cullen’s requests about annuling all the Circle.

DA2: Some time after the fifth Blight, Amell was sent with others to The Gallows, the Circle of Kirkwall, his born city. During the years the rebellion of mages started its upbringing, Amell was promoted to Senior Enchanter and assisted First Enchanter Orsino, but also become known as a Circle mage turned sympathizer with the code name “Mouse” in the Underground Mage Railroad, since he helped mages to escape The Gallows from the inside using his shapeshifting magic to avoid the templars vigilance. He also met Hawke, his second cousin, during these years both in and out The Gallows, as he always came back to avoid being framed an apostate. Amell become more radicalized and angry as the years passed while witnessing the abuse the mages suffered at templars’ hands at Kirkwall, but kept a low and solo profile to not risk his envolvement on the Railroad and only antagoned Cullen’s direct threats if necessary. This was, until Knight-Commander Meredith and First Enchanter Orsino declared their open war in the last years, and blood mages and templars persecution become the norm, resulting in the Chantry blown up incident, that he started to realize the breaking point the city reached and stepped down from supporting the radicalized side. When both Meredith and Orsino perished by their own actions and the war started, Amell was forced to become an apostate as the Circles fell.

Inquisition: Tracked down and captured by Cassandra Pentaghast in her search of Hawke’s location, Amell reveals to have no knowledge of this or any of his family situation once Hawke disappears from Kirkwall and so, no way of being helpful at all to her cause. Cassandra probes this to be not true then when she forces him to join the Inquisition forces in need of personnel, and in exchange she wouldn’t execute him for apostate and aid provider in the mage rebellion. Accepting this, Amell is tasked to talk with Cullen, an “old friend” and recruit him for the Inquisition forces as well, alluding to their old relationship, even previous to Kirkwall. While Cullen is given the Commander role, Amell gains the Advisor title in Arcane instruction and coordinates magical reasearchs for the Inquisition from the war table. Coming back to his more moderate reasoning about the templar-mage conflict and his beliefs of individual worth before organization judgment, he also gives refuge to the few rebel mages that decide to follow him instead as he advocates for mages rights as free individuals and their general welfare. Though he may clash with Cullen in these matters from time to time, they work together to mend the fractured relationship between the templars and mages in their improsived alliance, as well as their own personal relationship too. 

[halfbloodsnowy]

Chapter 13: Freedom and Betrayal

More on: Archive of Our Own

9:29 DRAGON - The Circle Tower in Ferelden

Kena felt jittery, her brain still buzzing after the Harrowing. She stared at the floor on her way to speak to Irving, the mottled green of the carpet's fibers forming strange patterns that helped calm her mind.

She was thinking about Jowan, what he had said about his Harrowing being continuously postponed made her worry, especially now that she had been put through it before him. It didn't make sense why they were waiting so long. Jowan was a damn good mage, stronger than the other apprentices their age. Why weren't they testing him? She was afraid Jowan was right, and that Irving really was going to force him through the rite of tranquility.

The thought sickened her.

Jowan had seemed so afraid at the thought of tranquility, and who wouldn't? To lose everything about yourself, your emotions, your personality, some of the apprentices thought it was worse than death.

Her heart broke for him, and though Kena knew she was being utterly selfish, the thing that petrified her most was losing his friendship.

She didn't think she could bear seeing the emotionless husk of Jowan daily, knowing he'd never laugh again, never tell her one of his stupid jokes or hug her when she was down. Kena took a deep breath, she was starting to panic. Panicking wouldn't help Jowan.

The sudden clink of armor startled her, and she stopped in her tracks.

"K-Kena!" Cullen called, standing awkwardly to her right, by the wall.

Why is he just waiting here? How strange.

"I… um, how are you?" he added dumbly, his arms dropping to his sides like a chastised school boy.

"I'm good, is there something you needed Cullen?" asked Kena, and she looked around to make sure no one was watching. She just awoke to another rumor being repeated about Cullen's supposed infatuation with her, and she didn't want to fuel more. 

"Wh-what?" he seemed confused, before shaking his head and awkwardly rubbing the side of his temple and laughing nervously. "Oh, um, right. No, no nothing, I'm just… uh, glad to see your Harrowing went smoothly," he stuttered.

"Oh," said Kena, faking cheer, "thank you!"

"Th-they picked me, as the templar to strike the killing blow if… if you became an abomination," he was speaking quickly, as if he had to get it off his chest before it crushed him. "It's nothing personal, I swear!" 

They what?!

"Oh," Kena's heart was racing, she was scared. She'd already made it through, but knowing he would have killed her was a dizzying revelation.

Everyone knew that the mages who didn't pass their Harrowing quietly disappeared, and yes, some of the others theorized death, but she hadn't realized they were killed in the very Circle Tower she called home.

Her blood ran cold remembering the few apprentices who were just suddenly gone, and now she knew, killed by the templars that claimed to be protecting them.

Templars like Cullen.

It was so heartless that it frightened her. She also felt very dumb saying "oh" over and over, but she wasn't exactly sure what else to say. He was a templar, it was his duty to kill abominations, and the Harrowing had turned out to be a test to see if she'd become one.

No wonder it was so secret.

"I… uh, I'm just glad you're all right. You know," Cullen continued.

But she was too distracted by her racing thoughts to hear the relief in his voice, "I… you'd have really killed me?" she blurted out.

That was the dumbest thing to ask! Maker, why am I like this?

"I would've felt terrible about it…" he said.

She wasn't even sure why she asked, and she regretted it. The idea that the templars had been watching them, everyday, knowing that they'd be tasked with killing them at any moment. How could Cullen confess to such a thing? She'd be ashamed to admit it, even if it was necessary. It just seemed so pointless to say out loud.

Why did he have to say anything at all?

She felt sick, and nervous, and so much worse than before. What if she had failed? She'd be dead and gone, and no one would know where. Struck down by the templar she thought most understood their plight.

A templar everyone said cared about her in a way he really shouldn't. And perhaps it was because she'd started to think of him in the same way that she found his revelation all the more upsetting. Her skin prickled, and she grabbed her own arm for comfort.

"--but… I serve the chantry, and the Maker, and I will do as I am commanded," he continued, and he seemed to be pleading with her to understand, but his voice sounded muffled, like she was listening to him from under water.

She forced a smile, but something had shifted in her view of the Circle. Of him, and she wasn't happy.

"Well, thank you, I shouldn't distract you from your duties--" she started, desperate to get away.

"Oh, you're not distracting!" he blurted out, "I mean, you are, but…well you're not…" he pinched his brow, his face a shade of red she'd never seen before, and he seemed very frustrated with himself, "I mean, you can talk to me anytime if you want."

Kena's urge to flee the uncomfortable conversation was unbearable, and she was blushing furiously. Could she please stop? She hated how easily her emotions bled out onto her skin. On full display for the world to see.

For him to see.

He seemed so desperate to keep talking, but it was clear their conversation had come to its end, "Uh… uh, yes. Maybe we can talk another time."

"I, of course, thank you Cullen," she mumbled, "good day."

"Good day, Amell," he said after her, but she was already hastening away.

She suddenly hated very much how he said her name.

9:36 - DRAGON - Aeonar

Her whole body ached like she'd been beaten by a battalion of templars and her head was pounding.

For a moment, Kena thought she was back at Kinloch Hold. What strange memories and dreams she'd been having! Like watching the most mundane parts of her life play out all over again.

A fierce gust of wind jolted her awake, and she was suddenly very aware of how freezing cold the stone floor was beneath her. So she sat up, and just barely glimpsed a blur of light hastening out of the front door.

The sound of impossibly loud thumps punching through the air reverberated into her bones. There was a roar, and it looked like a high dragon soaring into the sky.

The sky? The sky!

The beautiful, cloudy gray expanse just outside of Aeonar's door seemed to reach for her, pull her forward.

And a dragon?

Her eyes were like saucers, and she felt her heart battering against her ribcage. She couldn't fathom how much strength it must've taken for the creature to move so quickly.

"A dragon?" she whispered aloud. It was all she could truly understand in the moment, and then she saw movement out of the corner of her eye.

It was the elf, the one from the night before, and her memories began to return. He seemed different now. Less strange.

She laughed.

"I hope this is real," she muttered aloud again, feeling very stupid, but her mind was quickly catching up and she felt blood flowing into her limbs again.

"I hope so too," he murmured in response, and she realized that she very much enjoyed the sound of his voice. It was so different from the gruff templars, and from Lily, and from herself.

She decided at that moment that she quite enjoyed different . She wanted to forget everything that had happened, and being around the same old, same old wouldn't help with that.

"Lily!" Jowan screamed, popping up like a puppet.

The familiarity of his voice forced a sick feeling into her belly, he reminded her too much of the Circle, of better days that only served to remind her how awful her present was.

"Maker's mercy!" Lily groaned, sitting up and rubbing her eyes, "I've never… was that the fade…"

Amell watched, quietly, as Jowan turned to Lily and began to sob, "You're ok!"

Lily's eyes welled up and she covered her mouth, "Jowan…"

Jowan reached out to her, placing a hand on her face, and when she didn't pull away, he wrapped her in his arms, "Maker I'm so sorry, I'm sorry Lily… forgive me…"

"Jowan," Lily cried again, and buried her face into his shoulder. They held each other, sobbing uncontrollably, and Amell felt awkward. As if she was watching something very private.

She looked away.

"This is real," she whispered to the elf, and she tasted bile, "Jowan always sounded like a trapped mouse when he cried, the demons could never quite get that right."

"Are you alrig--" the elf began, but she suddenly felt her toes again, and she jumped to her feet.

Outside, I must get outside…

It was an instinct, an urge so great she couldn't control it. It felt like she was watching herself from far away. She was pretty sure she shoved the elf out of the way as she bolted for the outside, slamming her arm against the wicket gate in her haste, and skidding to a stop on the rough ground.

She looked up, shielding her eyes from the blinding, sunless sky.

_____

It was gray, filled with clouds, but it was beautiful. Bright, so much brighter than she could remember any sky and she screamed in animalistic glee at the pain in her eyes. The pain was real, so it felt good, and she tried to keep them open.

"YES!" she screamed, kicking and punching into the open air in excitement. She knew full well she probably looked very stupid, but she didn't care.

She was free.

Free, I'm fucking free!

The cold air bit at her skin, the breeze so fresh she felt her lungs purging the filth of Aeonar with every exhale. She laughed, uncontrollably, wildly. She was brimming with energy, and she suddenly found herself rolling amongst the wildflowers, scraping her skin against the rocks and hungrily inhaling the musty stench of mud.

"Are you alright?!" called the elf.

Was he talking to her? She didn't care either way. The ecstasy of freedom was fueling her delirium. She was literally crackling with so much energy she couldn't contain it. The grass around her singed at the whips of electricity snapping off her.

This has to be real!

Kena rolled onto her back in the tallest grass, breathing hard, and the magic quieted, dissipating into static in the air.

Freedom, real, undeniable freedom. She closed her eyes, enjoying the winter air, and the gentle breeze caressing her skin. The goosebumps on her arms pinched painfully. Her body was terrified and in love with the vast openness of the world.

She wanted to fall into the sky.

There was a crunching near her head, and she opened her eyes to see the elf man staring down at her. He had a small, kind smile on his face, though just enough of the wolfishness remained to give her pause.

She felt her cheeks turning pink, he was handsome, so painfully handsome and strange. Was this really something she wanted to waste her time thinking about fresh out of prison?

Already back to being naive and stupid eh?

He offered a hand, and Kena reminded herself not to trust someone just because they seemed kind and handsome. She'd already suffered enough for that brand of stupidity.

So she steeled herself, and rose to her feet on her own, "I'm fine, thank you," she said, colder than she intended.

"Of course," he said, and awkwardly withdrew his hand. He leaned his weight against his staff, drawing in and releasing a long and exhausted breath.

"Are you alright?" he asked again, "What happened last night… it was rough."

His voice was deep, but he sounded nervous, and the way he was looking at her… he seemed like he was studying her for something. He looked at her the way the enchanters looked at the stupid puzzles they obsessed over in the Circle.

What did he really want? 

"Kena Amell?" he said, and she realized she had gone and disappeared into her own mind again.

"What? Oh, yes, yes," she closed her eyes and basked in a fleeting ray of sun for a moment, before the clouds sealed it away once more. "I'm fine, and thank you, for…" she shuddered, opening her eyes to meet his, "saving me from the demon."

She figured he deserved that much, but she didn't feel ready to think deeply about what had happened in the nightmare. As far as she was concerned, it was the past and she was ready to forget it ever happened.

"I didn't," said Galel, and she was confused.

"But… then who?" she suddenly had a memory of a strange laugh, and an old woman's voice. But it was hazy, far away.

Galel raised an eyebrow, "You can't remember?"

Her brain was starting to hurt, and she just wanted to roll in the grass again, "No, I…" she bit her lip, unwilling to waste energy on speculation, "I don't, not really."

He forced a tired smile, "Well, I suppose it doesn't matter. We're alive, and I'm glad you made it."

Kena smiled awkwardly at him, his eyes were iridescent, deep brown and unlike any she'd ever seen before. 

Why are you like this Kena?!

But despite her supreme disappointment in herself for once again falling into the pits of fantasy, she found that staring into the unknown was comforting. Perhaps it meant change, something different than the nightmare she'd been thrust into.

"I'm glad you made it too," she mumbled, before looking over her shoulder at the Aeonar's quiet entrance. "Do you think they'll get done hugging anytime soon?

He followed her gaze, and chuckled.

"Let's hope so."

____________________

He felt nervous around her. Why was he nervous? There was an energy that buzzed off of her skin that seeped under his own in a way he had never felt from another mage before.

The feeling unsettled him.

"I should go check on them," said Galel, looking into the Aeonar's front doors. They had been magicked shut, but now lay comically open. Their magic lock stood no chance against the power in his blood.

He felt the sting of the cut on his hand, and tucked it under his cloak. He wasn't sure how Kena would feel about his use of blood magic, and he thought it better not to agitate her right now.

"What happened to the templars? And the abominations? You'd think they'd have torn us all apart as we slept…" she said, her voice was crackly, weak, but her spirit was strong. He could feel it, shaking the veil around him.

She was right of course, and Galel suddenly realized that it was strange no templar had woken yet, or come after them. What had happened to the rest of the prison's inhabitants?

But his speculation was cut short at the appearance of Jowan and Lily.

He heard Amell suck in a breath.

Jowan met Kena's gaze, and his face erupted into a smile.

"Kena!" he called, running over to her. But she stepped back at his approach, and Galel could now clearly see the hatred in her eyes.

Betrayal is the dagger that cuts deepest…

Jowan slowed to a stop a few feet from her, and his smile drooped, "I'm sorry, I--"

"Let's get out of here," Amell snapped, turning her back on Jowan and hobbling down Aeonar's stone path.

Galel could sense Jowan's pain at the rejection, his friend's Adam's apple shook in his skin and he seemed on the verge of tears.

Lily and Galel exchanged concerned glances, and Jowan stared forlornly after Kena.

"Jowan?" Lily murmured, and he inhaled, quickly forcing a smile at her and blinking away the red in his eyes. He then faced Galel, and the two friends exchanged awkward looks.

"I'm glad you got out of there," said Jowan, but his voice betrayed his pain.

Galel patted him on the back. He felt for his friend, he knew how hard and how desperately he had wanted to save them. So he could only imagine Jowan's pain at the rejection from Amell. The woman he claimed was like a sister to him.

But Galel knew that intentions only mattered to gods. Not to the mortals who suffered.

"We should follow her, she's too weak to be on her own," said Lily, uncertainty in her voice.

Jowan signaled his agreement, and they all quietly followed Amell.

[sidhelives]

The Black Emporium Exchange Works Reveal

Yeah, I'm late. I know. Sue me.

Basically I was picking up a few extra treats after the deadline because I discovered a few people had slipped through the cracks and I can't live with that. I was also busy, I'm an adult with responsibilities, it happens.

BUT I'M HERE NOW

I ended up completing 26 works for the exchange this year totaling 62,968 words. That is twice the fics I wrote last year and very nearly double the words. I'm pretty proud of it.

Before we get into the full list and links, here are some general stats for the group:

Date of first posting: July 18, 2023

Date of final posting: September 26, 2023

Longest work: 8,473 words

Shortest work: 1,147 words

Most Featured Character: Anders (5 works)

Most Featured Pairing: Solas/Trevelyan (3 works)

Rating Breakdown: 15 General; 3 Teen; 1 Mature; 7 Explicit

Category Breakdown: 13 F/M; 6 M/M; 5 F/F; 2 Other; and 2 Multi

Game Breakdown: 5 Origins; 3 Awakening; 6 DA2; and 12 Inquisition

With that out of the way, lets get into the links!

The Ambassador Will See You Now for @thedaselcor

Krem Aclassi/Yvette Montilyet

Rating: G

Word Count: 1,829

The End of a Long Night for Missjlh

Leliana/Female Surana

Rating: G

Word Count: 1,147

Aboard the Siren's Heart for sgtblue

Bethany Hawke/Isabela

Rating: G

Word Count: 1,197

Engaging with the Rabble for @amarmeme

Original Female Inquisition Scout/Original Male Ansberg Noble

Rating: G

Word Count: 1,245

It's About Time for @ripplesofaqua

Original Female Inquisition Scout/Original Male Ansberg Noble

Rating: G

Word Count: 1,254

Between One Breath and the Next for Inquisitor_Inquisitor

Solas/Female Trevelyan

Rating: T

Word Count: 4,927

Coming Home Late for Luffymarra

Zevran Arainai/Male Hawke

Rating: G

Word Count: 2,557

Old Fears Never Fade for taintandloathering

Anders/Desire Demon & Anders/Jowan

Rating: E [Warning for Non-Con]

Word Count: 2,668

A Mutually Beneficial Arrangement for RootboundWoodWitch

Female Hawke/Cullen Rutherford

Rating: E

Word Count: 4,108

Can't Sleep for Wanting You for @settiai

Anders/Bethany Hawke

Rating: G

Word Count: 1,524

Subtlety for @hazelestelle

Female Hawke/Loghain Mac Tir

Rating: E

Word Count: 8,473

Little Hurts for @lordnochybaty

Fenris/Bethany Hawke

Rating: T

Word Count: 2,002

The First Night of the Rest of Our Lives for @antivan-beau

Female Cousland/Anora Mac Tir

Rating: G

Word Count: 1,458

It's Him or Me for CrimsonShield75

Alistair/Female Amell/Zevran Arainai

Rating: E

Word Count: 4,730

Senior Enchanter Seeks Employment for Tafka

Bethany Hawke/Josephine Montilyet

Rating: G

Word Count: 2,716

Thanks for the Conscription (affectionate) for ghostbunny

Nonbinary Amell/Anders

Rating: G

Word Count: 1,287

The Crown Thanks You for Your Service for dawnstone

Zevran Arainai/Anora Mac Tir

Rating: E

Word Count: 3,618

Vigil Kept for @hazelestelle and ghostbunny

Jowan/Male Surana

Rating: G

Word Count: 1,159

Looking for a Bargain for Dragonflies_and_Katydids

Mouse/Male Surana

Rating: E

Word Count: 2,759

Leaving Home for cartographicalspine

Merrill/Tamlen

Rating: G

Word Count: 1,213

Dream a Little Dream of Me for dreamkist

Solas/Male Trevelyan

Rating: M

Word Count: 1,334

Tripping Hazard for emocsibe

Anders/Cullen Rutherford

Rating: G

Word Count: 1,940

A Quiet Morning in the Clinic for Sinister_Queer

Anders/Bethany Hawke

Rating: E

Word Count: 1,328

A Good Night's Rest is Hard to Come By for Sumi

Solas/Female Trevelyan

Rating: T

Word Count: 2,655

Missed You for kaijuburgers

Krem Aclassi/Female Trevelyan

Rating: G

Word Count: 1,201

Dress for the Job You Want for adlerobsessed

Female Adaar/Vivienne

Rating: G

Word Count: 2,639

Apologies if I mistagged anyone or missed anyone, I don't know everyone's Tumblr handles (or if they have them). If one of these is you and you want to be tagged just let me know and I will update the post!