#he loves his alienage so so so much

[bumblerhizal-art]

Seven Snippet Sunday

I define snippet a touch loosely here. I think it's still Sunday at least. While i'm now starting compiling this post, it is at least. No promises for when i finish. But seven? Seven is dead-on.

Got tagged for this by @heniareth a short forever ago and tagging you back in return as well as @icylook @wild-houseplant and @scarletkilometers

The first six are coming from Novhen's prelude rewrite and the last one from shortly after. It's been in progress for a while, but i don't think i've posted any of these before. If i have, oops. Because of how i skip around writing, there are bits from all over the story so fic spoilers ahoy probably, but it's about the journey not the destination, y'know? Especially for a rewrite like this is

CW: Alcohol (#2, 4), Death (#5), Implied Sexual Assault (#5)

<1> Starting with a bit of "All or Nothing" foreshadowing

"You have no idea how lucky you are," Shianni twirled her dress. "The outfits, the music, the wine. It's a whole party all about you! Well, one-quarter about you." "So now you want to get married?" Novhen said. 'You do know what comes after, right?" She rolled her eyes. "Of course I do, and I'm sure I'll figure something out to get around it when the time comes.” "By which you mean you'll make me figure something out?" Shianni waved her hand flippantly. "Same thing."

<2> Those kids i missed on my first playthrough you get to tell the story to

In the dead of night long after the city's nobles had drifted off into their whiskey-scented sleep, she sent a prayer to the Dread Wolf and melted into the shadows-- "Who's the Dread Wolf," Sera interrupted. "One of the old elven gods from before the fall of the Dales. He was the god of rebellion," Novhen explained. Sera wrinkled her nose. “How many years ago did you say this story was?” “Not that many,” he answered. “There are still elves that worship the old gods.” Efraim raised his hand. "But I thought Andraste freed the elves. Shouldn't she be god of rebellion?” Novhen said, "Yes, she freed us, but she wasn’t a god. And the Chantry folk really don't like it when you say that. She was a prophet, remember. Now, are we ready to continue?" They nodded. "Good," Novhen said.

<;3>

"C'mon, wasn't it worth it to see their faces light up?" Soris shrugged noncommittally, "I guess. We should go find the rest of the wedding party." Soris began walking out of the alley, leaving Novhen to catch up. He teased, "If that's your attitude, let's hope your bride doesn't want too many kids." "I have to agree with you there," Soris laughed awkwardly. "What about you? Going to give Uncle Cyrion the army of grandbabies he's been begging for?" "I thought I made myself clear. The moment you turn your head, I'm climbing the wall and finding the Dalish." "You haven't left yet."

<;4> Back to the break in! I know i've posted scenes near this one

The guard tried to say, "What do you want?" But as his speech was garbled by sleep and, by the smell of it, alcohol, what came out was "Wharryawan?" "Could you tell us where Lord Vaughan's room is?" Novhen said. The guard lazily looked him up and down. "And who are you?" "We're the new help. We were supposed to start today." The guard snorted derisively. “Wish they would tell me about these things. Go find somebody else to hold your hand. I have a station to man.” “Right. Sorry, ser,” Novhen said apologetically. He grumbled and crossed his arms as he leaned back in his chair. Already, he was nodding off once again. "Load of good that did," Soris mumbled. Novhen gestured for him to keep quiet and opened the door. He made no special effort to open it quietly, which was just as well as it would have squealed no matter how he opened it. The guard shifted in his seat and barely opened one eye. Seeing nothing unexpected, he went back to sleep. He wouldn't remember them by the time he woke up.

<;5>

Novhen stared at him. "Fine. Give me 40 gold and the women, and I let you live." "No, no, you misunderstand. 40 gold and the girls return alive tomorrow. I can't leave my guests without entertainment. What kind of host–" An arrow sprouted from Vaughan's throat.

<;6>

"Where are you going?" He had been spotted. It wasn't Duncan's voice. It was that recruit from Redcliffe. Alistair was his name. "I just need to take a piss," Novhen said. It was only half a lie. Alistair visibly relaxed, "Oh, okay. Just stay in range of the fire. You never know what could get you at night." Novhen grunted affirmatively and trudged away from the camp. If he ran, Alistair would be ready to raise alarm immediately. It would take less than a minute for Duncan and Riordan to begin pursuit. If this were Denerim, he'd be able to shake them without problem, but this was as far from Denerim as he had ever been.

<7> Hey, this one isn't from the rewrite. What's up with that?

The messenger said, "Warden-Commander, the Arl of Denerim requests the presence of Warden Tabris in his tent." The hairs rose on Novhen's neck, but he remained still. If he had not already been identified, he would rather not give it away in his reaction. "What for?" Duncan asked coolly. "He would not say, ser." "Well, I'm afraid that unless the arl is willing to disclose his purpose, I cannot help. All of my Wardens are already preoccupied with more important matters." The messenger squirmed in his boots, "I understand, ser, but the arl was quite insistent that I fetch him." "And you will find me quite insistent that I cannot allow that," Duncan answered firmly.

[obessivedork]

I have this mental image of Merrill teaching my Hawke Dalish lore and magic because she’s got a (probablly Dalish but they really don’t know for sure bc of how young Malcom was when he was taken away) Elven granddaddy and she’s DESPERATE to learn more about his culture! Anything! Everything!

[thekingofwinterblog]

How to fix Halamshiral as a Zone

Inquisition is a flawed game.

I don't think there's anyone who is going to argue otherwise.

The only question is wheter you place it higher or lower than DA2.

One of the things I think it does better than DA2, is that it managed to give every place a soul, an identity of it's own, and at least a distinct, if not always amazing storyline.

The emerald graves doesnt have a very interesting plot, but it has some spectacular side quests, and atmosphere, inculding a haunted mansion, which might be my favorite possession based quest in all of DA because it shows much better than others just how dangerous untrained mages actually are to those around them.

The storm coast tells a story of what was once an important dwarven port, and shows how it fell and was repurposed over time.

The Hinterlands shows the aftereffects of the templar mage war, as well as solas stupid plan to give cory his orb, and the mage rebellion and an actually decent time travel story.

I could go on, but the point is, I usually have at least aomething nice to say about every single region.

All except one.

Halamshiral.

Halamshiral was the single worst part of all of Dragon Age Inquisition for me, and every single time I boot up this game, it's always the last thing i do before the temple of sacred ashes, despite how bizarre the game flows as a result.

And the reason is because i hate everything about it.

I hate it's unique attempt at side quests, i hate the characters involved, i hate the Orlesians who inhabit it, and i hate how this section tries to copy what worked so amazingly well with Orzammar and Denerim during the landsmeet section, and fails every single shot it lines up.

The ONLY good thing i have to say about this, is that it's at the very least relatively short.

So here's today's question. How to fix Halamshiral?

Let's begin with the three main players.

Celene, Gasparde, and Briala.

The big problem with every single option, is that they all suck.

Celene and Gasparde are both fucking awful people without any redeeming qualities, they have no charisma, and there is no prospect of the Empire reforming itself under either of them, the way Orzammar would under Bhelen.

Meanwhile, Briala is much, much better, but the problem is that we know exactly what is going to happen here if you support her.

Maybe today elves will have it better, but tomorrow, when Gasparde is gone, or celene turns on elves again as she always does all the progress will be repealed, and reversed, along with a few purged alienages.

Its an old story that's been told before in Dragon age.

In short, there is no reason at all to care about this overall plot. None whatsoever.

There were so many reasons to care about both Orzammar and Denerim in the same situation, and every single character involved had so much more charisma than either of these would be monarchs.

So let's fix that.

Starting with Celene, take the idea of her wanting to reform the empire, and actually take it to the next level.

Celene is genuine in wanting to reform the empire, and has already taken grand, successful steps to make the entire thing much better for everyone, even elves, giving them and serfs more rights, outlawing the practice of chevaliers having a tradition of killing unarmed city elves to graduate.

But the catch is, while she is genuinely making progress, she is doing so within the confines of the great game.

Celene has nonintention of changing the great game, no plans of wanting to remove this thing that holds Orlais back more than any other, this center stone of their nobility and it's culture.

Meanwhile, Gasparde is a different kind of reformer, one that takes the ideas he had of him claiming to hate the game, and actually doing something with it.

He is far less progressive, has no love for elves, is far more warlike than Celene ever was... But unlike Celene, his ideas of reform isn't going to act within the grand game.

He's going to break it.

Unlike canon gasparde, this gasparde is hated by every single noble family in the entire empire. His only support, and it's a strong one, is the army. The parts of the army that supports Gasparde, and they are a huge part, are loyal to him personally to the hilt.

And he hates them back. He hates the game, he hates the way it cripples the empire, and he wants to change things. Like Celene he plans to break the serfs free of their chains, for the good of the nation and it's power and economy if not for any progressive reasons.

And he'a going to start with Halamshiral.

For this Gasparde isn't merely positioning men to stage a coup... He's planning to kill EVERY SINGLE NOBLE in Halamshiral. Evety man, every woman, every child there.

He's going to reform this empire by wiping out it's cancerous nobility in one fell swoop, and install himself as supreme dictator to see his reforms through, and wiping out the entire Orlesian nobility that might have opposed him, french revolution style.

And thus the Inquisitor has a dilemma.

Unlike Orzammar, where only one side was a reformer, both of these Orlesians are... But you have to choose one.

Do you choose Celene? The more progressive candidate, who wants a more peaceful Orlais going forward? But who is not willing to get ridd of the grand game to do so, thus making it a permanent risk that all her reforms will be undone...

Or will you support Gasparde, and by doing so be complicit in destroying the entire nobility of Orlais, many of whom are not guilty of the shit that Celene and Gasparde here both hate so much? Gasparde is far less likely to create a peaceful Orlais going forward... But he will have obliterated the Grand Game for good and all, a prize that might be worth this Red Wedding style bloodbath.

Meanwhile there is Briala, the elven spy who has enough influence to allow, or prevent Gasparde's plans from going through.

Here there should be another moral dilemma, quite different from the base game.

Do you convince her to aid Gasparde, in exchange for the Elves getting a duchy of their own in Halamshiral? Do you then back her up with Inquisition forces and support, forcing Him to publicly announce her as such, and trust his own, twisted version of honor to actually stick to it going forward(Something he ultimately does), or do you throw her to the Wolves the moment things get rough?

Or alternatively, do you convince her to side with Celene, and bury the hatchet? And if so, on what terms? And similarly, if she actually wants to get something out of this, you actually need to back her up... Something you may, or may not choose to do.

And voila, here you have an actual story of intrigue, massive, lasting political changes as a result of the Herald's actions, and morally grey on grey choices.

Everything that Denerim and Orzammar had in spades.

Now moving on from the plot to the actual place.

Halamshiral has no soul.

It's a french villa on a mountaintop. Whoop de freaking do.

It has no interesting murals, unique art only found there, interesting geography, or anything really to make it stand out.

Compare it to Denerim and Orzammar, and the way they fleshed out the entire city's levels of power and criminal underworlds, and you see the difference.

Denerim is a very realistic, squat, squalid medieval city, with it's buildings built on top of every single bit of available space.

Orzammar is a full on high fantasy dwarf city lit up by a lake of lava.

Halamshiral is a villa presented as a city.

How do you fix that?

There is an artist here on Tumblr who pretty much showcased what Halamshiral could have been, if they had taken the idea of the Dalish(who were the original owners) taking inspiration from native americans(amongst others), and use that to build a truly spectacular city, which has long ago been paved over, but the structure is still there.

Make it a city on the water, like the aztex capital of Tenochtitlan, a marvel of canals and stone.

Make it this Venezia like city, with canals everywhere you look, and the entire city running on water. A marvel of Dalish city building, where they took something as simple as a couple of islands in a lake, and built the most beautiful city in the world.

And rather than just limit you to the palace, instead let you actually explore this city.

Expand the entire event from one night, to a week.

Let the Herald explore the city, meet the players, interact with the nobles, become friends with a few like you could with Ferelden's bans, which in turn makes the possibility of sacrificing them for the greater good hit so much harder.

Let you choose what fancy stuff to wear to the balls and meetings, rather than have this stupid motto of forcing you to wear one, pre determined outfit like this game had for some reason.

Let you discover the places where what little Elven Architecture and art still remains can be found, and talk with the elves who still live here, the descendants after the first elves the Orlesians enslaved.

Make the plotting of Gasparde and the positioning of troops be gradual, not instantly discovered and twarted.

And at the end, if you choose to back Gasparde, you mirror that scene from Dragon Age 2, where the Templars sail across the bay, and you either step aside and witness the bloodbath you just allowed to happen, or you fight them and be recognized by the nobility(most of which are horrible, horrible people) as a hero who just saved the day.

Have the venatori plot be to kill both Gasparde and Celene, rather than their involvement mostly be about handing the player the the easy knife for the knot of which monarch to pick without having to get your hands dirty.

Also have the entire group be gathered for once. Every inner member of the Inquisition just like at Denerim.

Each of whom have their own thoughts on the events.

Who supports who? What is the right thing to do? What is better for the inquisition? Are you staining your honor beyond repair if you back Gasparde? Does the Inquisitor maybe have a breakdown after witnessing what they just allowed to happen and they walk through the gardens or rooms filled with corpses? Maybe have the scene at the end with the love interest be about a moment of them truly comforting their lover in the aftermath of it all, understanding(or not) that as boss, it's your job to have to make the tough decisions. And now you have to live with them.

Or if you wanna go the other way, this could be one of the breaking points like Origins had. If you support Gasparde, Blackwall choses to tell you to get bent, and that he will die as benefits a knight. Defending the week, and calling you out on how you are just as bad as he ever was, a child killer who's going to run away from responsibility, to pretend you are some better person than what you actually are. You're a murder. Just like he was. You are just as responsible for the blood that's flowing as he was with that carriage back in the day.

It would have been a far more impressive reveal moment for his crimes, that's for sure.

Cole probably would be the one who would be second most upset, but wheter he leaves or ultimately stays should probably be depended on your other choices and your relationship with him prior to this, probably have his personal quest be the determinating factor of what he chooses to do.

And i could go on, but point is, this would be a return to Origins choices actually mattering. There were choices that could make or break a characters bond with you. Shale would not budge regarding Caridin, Leliana and wynne would stand against you if you choose to defile the urn, Sevran would choose to betray you for his old friend if he didn't like you enough, and of course the age old choices at the end of act 3 in da2, where you have to pick between templars and Mages, as well as anders fate, and chances are regardless of what you do, at least 1 person ends up dead.

If anyone reading this has any suggestions for how to further improve this storyline, feel free to share, but regardless, i think we can all agree that this is a vast improvement of what we actually got.

[bunabi]

oh my god no, your point about zevran--first of all i ate it up, second i think you're right. my 1st playthrough of origins i ran as a male tabris that romanced zev and i need to do another playthrough because the vibes i always got about zevran that i could never quite put to words was that contrary to the common(?) fandom perception of zevran just being a very pretty and gentlemanly piece of meat, zev always struck me as much more nuanced and subtle LI than some of the other romance options who were more blatant in their feelings and thoughts and--yeah the big tell to me that something was off with Zev was also whenever he stopped speaking in a grandiose, expressive, or easygoing manner. You don't have to prompt him that much or be invasive after he's already decided to tell you something about himself; he'll talk for a while and he's descriptive. Even when other companions are being rather rude to him, Zev can do the verbal equivalent of a cartwheel easily and often. But he gets reticent with you after he's given you his earring and he's having a crisis about being in love with you and wanting to be your partner. And every time he caught wind of another companion liking you, he's gentlemanly but also quite straightforward and short when he says he'll get out of that companion's way if you want him to (but he doesn't want you to want that, he wants to be kept); aaaaand ... yeah, then he does what you pointed out with oghren. thinking of how Zev responds to you giving him those dalish gloves and what he says about his mom there (and in general how he behaves while you're in the forest doing the dalish questline) my best guess is that he's ... on paper he says he has no attachment to the dalish because he doesn't really think of himself as being one of them, but also he can't help but be sentimental and want some kind of attachment to something longer-lived and meaningful, like the dalish clans and their heritage/history? i can't remember what exactly Zev's thoughts were on alienages (though I imagine that would be a clue here) but my sense of Zev was always that for a dude who often seemed to believe himself a detached outsider, Zev also still identifies with his elf heritage & cares about elf issues--it's just that, you know, as a formality Zev still needs to take it from the top when prompted and explain how he's an amoral miscreant and murderer, that he's owned by the Crows and lacks individuality, you see he's technically neutral about everything because he's committed so many crimes dohow can he judge? Or something like that. I remember similar convos like what you're describing coming up between Zev and ... whatever the rock person's name was. Slate? Slade? Granite? Rock? SHALE. Yes, Shale. Because Shale always has odd questions. I'm sure Sten probably also has contributed to the mystery of Zev in some way but I can't recall off the top of my head lol.

Think you meant to send this to @zevsurana! I'm not the OP of that post! 😅

[thedragonagelesbian]

The Cyrus Extended Universe

I love one (1) elf very much. How much? So much that I can't stop putting him in scenarios, spawning an intricate web of AUs, LIs, and slight variations that, while perfectly sensible to me, is a lot for anyone else to keep track of.

This chart & the liner notes under the cut sketch Cyrus Hawke's development across DA2, as well as how I've reinterpreted the character in BG3 with links to fics & character & ship tags uwu

And, of course, there are some things that all versions of Cyrus have in common:

A lover AND a fighter

Sword & shield tank

Loyal as a pup and twice as pretty

Duty comes first, and his first duty is to protect & care for his loved ones

Struggles with his sense of self beyond that duty

Feels like he's always falling short of being good enough & constantly trying to make up for it

Difficulty connecting with his body as more than a line of defense

Sensitive about having his body modified with magic, including benign healing

Fears being made a symbol-- reduced to his armour, his weapon, his title, and made to be the instrument of someone else's will

Has had his kindness and eagerness to serve others taken advantage of

Can't sit still to save his life

Loves nature, gardening, and lavender especially

Stubborn, determined, bad at letting go

Despises injustice and abuse of power

DA2!Cyrus

Playable Elfs Mod

Start of DA2 (25)

Blue!Hawke. Defined by his cheerful, trusting, and giving nature, Cyrus' unwavering commitment to his friends, family, and community make him the brightest light in Kirkwall's Alienage.

But there's a dark side to his selflessness, which his new friends are quick to notice: his overprotectiveness, his willingness to sacrifice himself recklessly and needlessly, his singular regard for the well-being of others at the expense of his own, even the pride he seems to take in his ability to endure pain...

End of DA2 (32)

Red!Hawke. Bearing the weight of Kirkwall on his back has left Cyrus bitter, disillusioned, and tired. As the title of Champion has eaten away at him, he has had to fiercely guard his heart and sense of self, only ever softening for those he loves, to whom he is still ruthlessly devoted.

When Anders asks to pay the price for the Chantry explosion, Cyrus feels he has no choice but to oblige him.

Romancing Varric; QPPs with Merrill and Fenris; besties with Isabela; complicated mutually requited mutual martyrdom exes with Anders

Fics: Little Prince; if i was any closer i could only lose me

Pallybarb!Cyrus (~120)

Oath of Devotion/Oathbreaker Paladin & Wildheart (Bear Heart) Barbarian

Romancing Karlach & Halsin; ending in Avernus with Karlach and Wyll

Cyrus' oath was born out of pure, unadulterated, selfless commitment to those around him-- first the other orphans in the Lower City of Baldur's Gate, and then to anyone he came across as a young adventurer.

Initial unfazed by getting tadpole-d, Cyrus is devastated when he breaks his oath in the Shadowlands, viewing it as a profound personal failure and a sign of worthlessness. With Karlach's help, he comes to understand that neither he nor his value are defined by his oath, and he decides to remain an oathbreaker, despite the heavy absence in his soul.

Fic: h-llowed

Ranger!Cyrus (~250)

Gloomstalker Ranger & Champion Fighter

Romancing Wyll; ending as Grand Duke Wyll's husband

A century and a half ago, Cyrus was a selfless and naive paladin. He swore his Oath of Devotion to the exiled heiress of Iriaebor. Seeing the potential of his blind loyalty, she named him her Champion, and while he helped her reclaim her city, the two became lovers. As a ruler and a partner, however, she was despotic. Kept caged by her for decades, Cyrus eventually broke his oath to kill her.

He fled the city and made a new life for himself as a hunter in the Wood of Sharp Teeth, but he lived there in self-imposed isolation, determined never to let his guard down or let anyone into his heart again.

...Until he meets Wyll :)

Fic: The Cicatrix: The Functional Stage of Wound Healing

Durge!Cyrus (???)

Harbinger Aasimar (mod + head); Ghostslayer Blood Hunter (mod) & Ancestral Guardians Barbarian (mod)

What if you took a guy who has trouble defining himself outside of his ability to bleed and to make others bleed in order to protect his friends... and you obliterated every other reference point by which he might construct a sense of self. Would that be fucked up or what.

He is the sacrificial lamb he is the wolf in sheep's clothing he is the dog guarding the flock

Romancing Astarion & Wyll

[bluerose5]

[sticks leg out] may we see ur warden(s)/custom hawke(s)/inquisitor(s)

and if u feel like it how would any of them fare if dropped into Faerun (with or without Fenris/Zev)

Ohhh don't get me started!

Garrett Hawke, my beloved, although I hc him as elf-blooded. Ironic enough, in Thedas, "half-elf" or "half-blood" is used as an insult iirc, so imagine his expression to hear people use the term half-elf so casually in Faerûn. Just a little aside.

For him, he is your typical purple mage Hawke, so I'd definitely say he'd bring that type of energy to Faerûn, no matter what time in his life he's in. He'd be excited as fuck to be in a place where he can use his magic openly without worry, and he would take the adventure in stride, even while he's screaming on the inside. (Still, none of this is as bad as Kirkwall in his opinion. 😆) Somehow gets everyone to fall for him without even trying. Not his first merry band of bi/pan misfits that he's had to deal with.

Then, there is HIM.

Darrian Tabris. My Warden. My Warden-Inquisitor. Love of my life. My angry rebel. The Dark Wolf himself! I djdbdhsbdfkf 😍💖💞💖💞

Sorry, but he was a character I loved writing so much. Maybe I'll return to his story one day, but my energy has been more devoted to one shots and shorter works these days. It just suits my current habits and lifestyle better than going full multichap.

Darrian is a rogue/mage multiclass thanks to my setup on pc where I utilized the game's console commands and such. He's faced a lot of hardship in the Alienage and puts his people (elves and mages) first. He's also not above using less than savory means of achieving his goal (ex. the power of blood is a badass concept, coating his blades in his tainted blood to seriously fuck up his enemies, this is one of my favorites). He's also not above committing crime to get what he wants, but he grows into being a leader. In one AU I have, he even serves at Alistair's side as king (a poly relationship in this one). He also becomes Inquisitor and demolishes the status quo by encouraging rebellion where he can, so there's that too. 😂

So, with that in mind, how does he fare in Faerûn? Probably thinks it's too cushy compared to Thedas. His temper is his biggest flaw because he's so damn passionate that anything that angers him can set him off. Will be ready to fistfight any oppressive gods or former masters at the drop of a hat because he values freedom above all else. Could probably take Cazador out on his own ngl 💀

And of course Zevran was his romance (surprise, surprise). I don't think they'd necessarily act different around each other in Faerûn, but Zevran’s opinion would hold a lot of weight for him.

Also, semi-related, but I have so much art commissioned of these two. I didn't have my thoughts organized for this post at all so if you have any other questions, please feel free to ask.

[bigfan-fanfic]

May We Meet Again (HoF!Reader x Alistair Theirin)

Can I request one where Alistair and the HoF break up because Alistair is the king now, but never stopped loving him. Now, after years they meet again and talk as friends, but Alistair still in love with the HoF, and maybe the feeling is mutual 👀

Was it worth it?

It's a question he asks himself quite a lot, over the years.

He had stood up for himself, become king.

But in the process, he had lost you.

Becoming king had its duties and responsibilities - the main one of the bunch being the production of an heir by blood.

And that would not be possible with you.

He was younger then, and not at all prepared to be king.

But now, after ten years... he realizes what he had not known then.

The advisors he sought approval from, the people he had a duty for - none of them were as intimidating now as they seemed.

He had not needed to capitulate - he had only needed to prove himself.

What a fool you are, Alistair, he thinks to himself. Wouldn't all this have been easier with him at your side?

For all the supposed need to have an heir, Alistair had never been much interested in the search for a spouse.

Too much to do in Ferelden, of course. Corrupt Banns to oust, elves suffering in alienages at the hands of nobles. He had seen much as a Grey Warden.

And he had never stopped loving you. Because even more than the Hero who slayed the Archdemon, you had been the keeper of his heart. A boy gave you a rose, and the man he had become had never even had the thought of giving the flower to anyone else.

When the Hero finally makes a royal visit, at Redcliffe Village, Alistair's instinct is immediately to run to embrace you.

But his body does not obey, and the welcoming handshake is swift, perfunctory. He hates himself for it.

But then you smile, and his face, older and bearded, shoulder-length hair framing it, cracks that old familiar grin.

You hug him tightly and for a moment you're those two young Grey Wardens again, who can only count on each other.

And those years of pain melt in again and make that insurmountable wall.

You two feast and talk well into the night.

Letters have passed between you over the intervening years, but it's so good to speak with someone who still knows your heart as well as you know theirs that a few repeated stories don't interrupt the joy.

And for the first time, he has hope - hope that that wall may have a space in it for a door to open.

"Can we talk?"

You laugh. "I thought we were?"

"I mean... about... it."

"I would've thought you'd know all about the nugs and the bees by now, Alistair."

He chuckles - once upon a time he'd have pouted. "I mean about how we left things."

"That was a long time ago, Alistair."

"I hurt you. And for that, more than anything, I am sorry."

You take his hand. His heart leaps. "I understand why you did it."

"I don't. I used to have a reason, but those all fled as I grew older. I don't have to worry about what the people think, what my advisors think, any of it. I just didn't have the courage back then. I was a coward."

"You were a boy, Alistair. And so was I." you don't let go of his hand. "I don't blame either of us for not fighting for each other. It's one thing to face certain death. Tradition is a wholly different beast."

"So... you can forgive me?"

"There's nothing to forgive."

"But... there is. I still love you."

"And you need forgiveness for that?"

"No! Never. I need forgiveness for those ten years we could have spent at each others' side. We get so few years as Grey Wardens already..."

You blink. "Wait... you mean...? You still want me?"

"I never stopped. There's been a - a hole in my life since you stopped being in it. Since I left you."

You chuckle. "You always have had a way of surprising me, Alistair..."

He looks at you intently. "Could you ever give me another chance?"

You smile. "I'm not saying we'll get married at first light, but... let's try it. No pressure, no impending disaster. Just two men with each other."

He kisses your cheek. "You say that like it's not more than I deserve. Like it doesn't make me the happiest man alive."

You kiss his lips, and you feel him melt. "I have always loved you, Alistair."

"And I you. My warden. My hero. My love."

[broodwolf221]

sera meta!

i love her soooo much - if not for solas, she'd be hands-down my favorite character from inquisition. so it's long past time i did a meta post for her <3

this is gonna be long and i added a lot of her relevant dialogue to it

dai context: yes, it's frustrating that the two elven companions both hate elves - i think it would've been better to have a third elven companion or major character who doesn't, but that doesn't detract from either sera or solas' characterization

meta overview: sera is young, traumatized, has deep-seated internalized racism, and has never had an opportunity to be vulnerable or to safely express herself. she's also very seriously autistic-coded.

part 1: her past

she was presumably born into an alienage, and as @skip-the-clumsy-dragon reminded me recently, city elves are expected to get married and have children. this is a realistic thing for them to prioritize (and dalish likely have the same priority) given the fact that they're an endangered culture. however, sera's a lesbian - to grow up in a society that tells her that she has to marry an elven man and have his children would've been incredibly ostracizing to her. the elves made her feel broken, directly or indirectly, and i think that's something a lot of queer people can relate to.

while only the last part is related, this bit of banter between her and solas is interesting in terms of her being a lesbian:

Sera: (shivers) Weird. Solas: Sera? What are you feeling? Sera: Ugh, here we go. It’s nothing, it just feels like I've seen this. Exactly this. It happens. Solas: Not to everyone. Sera: It’s not an elf thing. You’re not shaking. Sera: I suppose now you’ll switch to how I’m the same but different? Solas: You are different. You are the furthest from what you were meant to be. Sera: Well I’ve definitely heard piss like this before. Hmph!

she was adopted by the lady emmald, which looks fine at first, but as we're shown during the cookie scene, emmald didn't really care about sera. more than likely, she cared about what sera could do for her (a sort of live-in, unpaid servant in a child who she 'saved' from the streets) and the social esteem she'd get for 'rescuing' a 'poor elf' - lady emmald was the racist one, and the user, not the baker she blamed

Sera: I got caught stealing when I was little, yeah? You get alienage or worse for that, but the “Lady Emmald” took me in. She was sick and couldn’t have children. I had no parents. It worked out. Anyway, she gets a year sicker, so I ask about her cookies. Because mums make cookies. I can pass that down, or something. Turns out, she couldn’t cook. She missed that talk with her mum. The ones she “made” she bought and pretended. Aw, right? Well, no, she was a bitch. She hid buying them by keeping me away from the baker. She did that by lying that he didn’t like me, didn’t like elves. She let me hate so she could protect her pride. I hated him so much, and I hated… She looks away again. Sera: Well, she died, and I hate pride. “Pride cookies.”

"I hated him so much, and I hated... [being an elf]" is the obvious conclusion. and again, it makes sense - her people wanted her to play a role she couldn't, and wouldn't, play - and her adoptive mother allowed her to hate and hate so that she could protect her own pride.

Inquisitor: I don’t understand. This Lady Emmald was just trying to be good to you. Sera: She hurt people. Inquisitor: It was just cookies. Sera: It was not just cookies! Lie to herself? Fair play, only hurts her. But she made me think there was something wrong with me! And the baker! I made his life shit. Why not? It seemed like he deserved it. I mean, “if you don’t give a child a cookie because of appearances, you’re a monster.” Stupid, pride-whore noble. She pauses. Sera: I know, I said it was stupid. That’s why I want to get rid of it. I want to make better cookies.

she keeps calling herself stupid. she's angry and hurting and trying to be vulnerable, and when her vulnerability isn't supported she immediately resorts to calling herself stupid, making her feelings smaller, insulting herself before she can be insulted by the inquisitor, someone she's grown close to

Inquisitor: It is stupid. You dragged me here to bad-mouth a sad, dead woman. Sera: It’s not about that. Feelings are hard, all right? Inquisitor: Not for an adult! Sera: Bullshit! And I’m trying to say I like it here! I thought you’d want to know that, and eat my shitty cookies! / Sera: I just thought you’d want to know that I think you’re pretty great! That I made you shitty cookies!

"not for an adult" - sera is by far the youngest companion. and she's never had the opportunity to even begin unpacking her own trauma, until maybe haven/skyhold, depending on how your inquisitor treats her.

part 2: red jenny

after emmald, she ended up on the streets again. she was taken in by the red jennies. by this point she has personal cause to dislike elves and elven culture, and to dislike nobles - but she doesn't really hate humans, which is understandable considering that she's surrounded by them. she sees that they get treated like shit sometimes, too. her alliances are not and have never been along racial lines, but class divisions: she looks out for the "little people", which in her case means the poor, the unhoused, or those in servitude.

the fact that she doesn't live in the alienage means she's surrounded by human faith. i've discussed this before in prior metas, but in thedas, andrastianism or however it'd be spelled is likely not optional - it's presumed and absolute. christianity was like this too, in medieval times, the church was the core of cities and everyone was expected to be faithful. theres' an immense sociocultural pressure towards religious conformity that everyone is exposed to even if they don't personally go to the church/pray/etc. - it's just baked into the culture. the chant is everywhere. and people internalize stuff they're surrounded by, that's natural

so she's out here angry, bitter, finally able to be 'just' sera with the jennies, not expected to breed for them or to take their shit, allowed to be exactly who she is... and at the same time, she's immersed in chantry culture. she wants a parent, she wants someone who cares for her no matter what. she keeps hearing that it's andraste and the maker who will care for her.

Inquisitor: Odd that you’d ask Andraste over your own gods. Sera: “My” gods? Whatever. They don’t talk any more than she does. Not like she’s supposed to. I know what happened to you, or what everyone here thinks happened. It seems… I don’t know what it seems.

part 3: her behavior

she's outwardly callous and irreverent a lot of the time, but that stems from a mix of things, primarily: humor as a coping mechanism and having seen so much shit in her life. she talks about food a lot, but this bit of banter with blackwall explains why really clearly:

Sera: Hey, do you think they'll have pie when we get back? I could use a pie. Or three. Blackwall: That's... a lot of pie for one person. Sera: You'd understand if you've ever been hungry. In your bones hungry.

she also has a really grounded view of mages. it's not perfect, she's very afraid of magic - as she's been taught to be. i think people get caught up in the mage freedom angles the games have been showing us and forget that within the games context, mages are fucking scary and people are scared of them. i'm staunchly pro-mage, but it's useless to ignore the context they exist within

Sera: I knew a funny boy in Denerim. Started fires with his eyes. Templars nabbed him right quick, so he's better now, I guess? Dorian: Better? Do you know what your southern Circles are like? Sera: Meals and training? So he wouldn't starve or get stomped by a mob? I've seen both. Dorian: (Sighs.) You're sadly right.

circles are bad but also? she's right. training, room and board... when it's living in a circle vs. being killed on the street, i think most people would choose the former, even with all the inherent difficulties and the oppression of it, the abuses by the templars, all of it. because at least you're safer. and the training is important. it's all kinds of wrong the way it's structured, but mages do need training, there's no denying that

and she has a very practical, very grounded perspective on nobles and who would suffer in a massive revolution. when solas starts recommending guerilla warfare tactics to her, she shuts him down - not because his ideas are wrong, but because she can see ahead to all the harm it'd cause the exact people she's trying to protect

Solas: Once you have the aristocracy weakened, Sera, you will have to redirect your lieutenants. Sera: Oh, this again. All right, what am I doing? Solas: Some of your forces, valuable until now, have no interests beyond creating disruption. Chaos for its own sake. They must be repositioned where they can do no harm, or removed if necessary. You replace them with organizers willing to build a new system and carry out the ugly work that must be done. Sera: What? Why? What ugly work? Solas: That is up to you. Do you wish to disrupt the nobility, secure a title? Or change the political structure entirely? Sera: None of it! I don't want any of that!

Solas: I do not understand you, Sera. You have no end goal for your organization. Sera: Nobles get rattled, and people get payback. I play in the middle. Solas: Why not go all the way? You see injustice, and you have organized a group to fight it. Don't you want to replace it with something better? Sera: What, just lop off the top? What's that do, except make a new top to frig it all up? Solas: I…forgive me. You are right. You are fine as you are. Sera: You hurt my head sometimes, Solas. Solas: Yes, I have been known to do that.

conclusion:

sera is one of the most important characters in dai specifically because of the perspective she brings to the table. she's the average person. she's scared of mages and magic. she's scared of templars. she's scared of the grey wardens. she's young and tries so hard. she lived through the blight. she's traumatized af. she feels like she has no culture that will accept her as she is. the first people to accept her, to just see sera, are the red jennies, and she happily joins them. she offers herself to the inquisition despite being scared of it because a part of her wants to help and another part wants answers - but is scared of getting them at the same time.

Herald: But where do you stand on the war? Sera: In the frigging middle, with everyone else. Sera: You know what I hear about mages? Nothing until one goes all demony. Know what I hear about templars? Nothing, until they take “maybe-mages.”

she's a queer city elf who's expected to marry another elf and have his children. she's a poor elven child who's supposed to be grateful that she was offered a good life by a noble. she's never had a space where she was able to work through all her issues, or even begin looking at them for real - but when she does have that space, she is surprisingly vulnerable with people. the cookies are important because it's her biggest show of vulnerability - she's revealing her past and one of the things that haunts her most, and she's actively trying to change the context, to disrupt a childhood trauma with new, better memories

[transfenris-truther]

FANFIC UPDATE

Chapter 41 of No Town More Barren Than Our Town is now up! In this chapter, the Kirkwall Winters start to grow colder and Varania shows up on Hawke's doorstep with an unexpected package. (Also maybe a bit of a WIP Wednesday going on here? Lol) Here's an excerpt:

There was no Bohdan and Sandal today, out on some errand. It was unusual for Fenris to be home alone. Yet he felt comfortable. Danarius had been dead three months. Fenris had reconciled with Hawke. There was warmth here. Food. Books. Love. He felt, all at once, safe, fulfilled and comfortable lazing around the manor. It was so strange to suddenly feel at home. When a knock at the door came at midday, Fenris answered it. There was no reason not to. Varania stood there- alarmingly out of place to his senses- like a paper cutout pasted into the wrong scene in a storybook. She looked different than she had only a few months ago. No longer in unassuming plainclothes, she was dressed in fine fabrics for an elven woman, every layer perfectly fitting and meticulously in place. Her cheeks and ears were pink from the cold. Her red hair was pinned up and no-nonsense- like Mother’s- he remembered in a kind of fog. The outside air was frigid, but her glare was blisteringly hot. “You,” she muttered, “I should’ve expected as much.” He stood, in shock. Varric had said she’d stayed in town. Fenris himself had seen her shop, heard rumors about her. In truth he hadn’t actually expected to see her, or he’d been hoping not to. Kirkwall was a big city and he was actively avoiding the Hightown Market and the alienage. She shoved a heavy envelope into his arms, “That’s for you- or it’s for that mage, I guess. But he wanted it for you.” And then she fled, absconding down the Hightown Street like the city guard was close on her tail. Were it not for faint footprints in the melting snow and the weight in his arms, it would have been as if she was never there.

[vigilskeep]

how would rowena and keir get along?

much better than keir and minerva, i think! rowena doesn’t expect deference or take criticism and confrontation too seriously, unlike minerva who simply won’t tolerate the way keir talks, especially when his protectiveness makes her a target of it. rowena doesn’t mind ceding territory and letting someone else be the scariest thing in the room; in fact, as a rogue, she likes it when others take up more space and attention. she might be a little wary at first—keir does cause that in strangers, on purpose—but i think she’d find his whole bit endearing once she got to know him. kind of similar to her relationship with sten? like. u are very large and intimidating but i’m realising u are silly underneath. and also that it is not that hard to wrap u around my little finger

they don’t have very compatible uh morals or life choices i suppose, what with keir being fundamentally incapable of understanding what she did, but some of keir’s best friends are similarly incomprehensible to him. it doesn’t occur to him to expect of others what he expects of himself so i don’t think rowena would get the judgement she might bitterly prepare herself for

i think she would think it sucks that he’s never had elven community because losing it is something she really takes hard. he’d sort of gruffly be like “don’t bother i barely count” and she’s like lmao u think this is for u. i need to make an alienage recipe and u think i am going to do the hard work myself with ur muscles right there??? get stirring mr scruffy ears

also keir loves people who are smart. and who can go on impromptu lectures. rowena’s cunning score will win this. if we can just get her to stop being a cool girl for long enough to start explaining one of her niche skill sets like poisons or tailoring, she’d have him

[ziskandra]

1, 8, and 10 for the Violence Meme :3

1. The character everyone gets wrong

The way that ‘Loghain Mac Tir’ immediately comes to mind probably says a lot about the way he’s portrayed in fandom, huh… While I obviously don’t expect anyone to see my blorbos 100% the same as me, sometimes I’ll see takes that are so diametrically opposed mine that I’m just like: huh.

That being said, Loghain is a very complex and layered character, and all the different possible ways to read his motivations only leads credence to that fact.

Anyway, here are my own preferences/biases when it comes to Loghain:

1) Maric is Loghain's everything, and not only that, but the Maric that lives in Loghain’s head is even larger than the man himself was in real life. Personally, I like how this explains the discrepancy between the way Loghain describes Maric (as though he farts rainbows) and the way Maric is described in the tie-in novels (rather punchable).

Sure, they might've gone through a lot of shit together, but Loghain is completely abnormal about Maric and I love that for them.

2) I think Cailan’s death at Ostagar wasn't planned, per se, but rather that Loghain was willing to take that loss if necessary.

And look, Loghain did try to warn Cailan that fighting on the front lines would be foolhardy, but Cailan refused to listen and well… what can I say other than Loghain knows how to pick his battles? 😌

3) Loghain is not very politically savvy: I like to think Anora got her more astute people skills from her mother.

That being said, I think people sometimes forget how at the start of Origins, Loghain is a man deeply in mourning: in the preceding years he’s lost his best friend and his wife.

I feel this is also part of why he doesn’t realise he can rely on Anora: fully accepting that she’s a capable adult and no longer a little girl with pigtails as skinned knees would be to accept that there is no going back, he can never go back: the happiest, most purposeful part of his life is behind him and who is he, other than a father with a disobedient daughter, and the general of a nation that is starting to rise up against him?

Loghain basically suffers from like, a catastrophic loss of identity during the course of the game and is pretty much ready to die by The Landsmeet. If anything he’s glad to have found such a worthy opponent in the Warden: it means Ferelden’s fate is in good hands.

4) Leading to my last point: a combination of all the factors above means Loghain is very open to manipulation (by Howe, by Anora, by the Warden should they so choose).

That being said, I don’t think that absolves him of his complicity in his crimes, and especially not the slavery in the alienage. He very much knew the elves were being sold, but had also accepted that the alienage was lost to the darkspawn. I can certainly see someone with Loghain’s background deciding that giving the elves at least some chance of survival as well while also making more money for the war effort as the practical choice. While it’s not the moral choice, it is a pragmatic one and Loghain is a pragmatist.

Anyway my actual point is that while some Loghain fans might try and minimise his involvement in the alienage, I find it far more fascinating to explore through the lens of who he is a person. After all, I am not looking at fiction to inform my morals wholesale, but rather to explore other perspectives, and I am especially drawn to how people can justify atrocities to themselves, SO! Here I am, sharing my Loghain thoughts on tumblr dot com 😌

[choose violence ask meme]

[greypetrel]

Hiiii, this is for the dragon age questions and for your darling Aisling

ESSENTIALS

04. What is their moral alignment?

LIFE

06. Which aspects of the culture they were born into holds the most significance for them?

12. How efficient are they with things like crafting potions or repairing their own armor?

DRAGON AGE: INQUISITION

06. How did they behave at the Winter Palace? Who did they support in the political scheming?

12. Did they respect the rituals in Mythal’s Temple? Who drank from the Well of Sorrows, Morrigan or your Inquisitor?

13. What do they think of Flemeth? If they drank from the Well, how do they feel about being now beholden to her as Mythal?

Hello! Thank you so much for asking Kat! :D

There's a cut because you made me speak about my two favourite missions (with all its flaws, but I write fanfictions to fill gaps in a story, and the Arbor Wilds is the perfect match of a map I love, lore, fun banter -Solas and Morrigan should co-host a talk show where the guest inevitably tries to stop them from turn the other into a toad... and my brain is on fire.)

Tis the Prompt List

ESSENTIALS

04. What is their moral alignment?

Neutral Good.

LIFE

06. Which aspects of the culture they were born into holds the most significance for them?

The sense of community. Acting like you're part of a group, your actions aren't really just yours, but can influence everyone else. The sense that you can survive only together, and everyone has a part to play, no matter how small.

12. How efficient are they with things like crafting potions or repairing their own armor?

Potions: she's pretty good. Her Keeper was a very skilled herbalist and she learnt well from her. She's not exceptional or a talent, and it doesn't come naturally to her, but she studied enough to be highly proficient. Repairing armour: She can keep her armour in good conditions from fighting. As a Storm Witch, she doesn't wear much metal in her gear (too conductive, and she uses armours in enemies enough to know exactly what happens if she makes a mistake). She knows how to to maintenance, but for bigger repairs she definitely needs help.

DRAGON AGE: INQUISITION

06. How did they behave at the Winter Palace? Who did they support in the political scheming?

Contrary to most people's belief, seeing her wearing her heart on her sleeve, she behaved very well. After long, LONG weeks of Josephine training her for the task. With the super-power of the people-pleaser, she won Belle of the Ball. On the support... With the Well of Sorrow, it's the one choice that keeps haunting her in the future. She couldn't bring herself to trust Gaspard to stay put and let Briala tell him what to do without any retortion. In her opinion, if the man launched his country in a civil war out of ambition, he isn't one to be trusted with a throne, and he isn't one to be trusted not to try and gain some more power for himself. She hated it to guts, but she supported Celene, believing that out of love, she'd be a little less prone to assassinate Briala than De Chalons. Kept every single scrap of paper she found in her studio as a safeguard and is ready to take everything out and blackmail the Empress should the need occur. Yes even after she disbanded the Inquisition, Leliana is instructed to call her immediately if Celene looks at another Alienage for more than 10 seconds.

She is still not sure it was the right decision, even if she really despises Gaspard too.

12. Did they respect the rituals in Mythal’s Temple? Who drank from the Well of Sorrows, Morrigan or your Inquisitor?

Respected every single ritual, defined the floor puzzles as "quirky but fun", quarreled with Cassandra and almost broke her friendship with her over it.

Another decision that haunts her even after: she let Morrigan drink, thinking she was readier than her to face the consequences (after being assured thrice that Kieran would have been taken care of by a trusted person should something bad happen). For her, it would have been a jump in the dark with risks she hadn't considered before, and respected Morrigan enough to trust her with it. Add the fact that Solas was a little too much involved in that choice... Which never happened before. She took it as an alarm bell and trusted him thinking that at least Morrigan was prepared to face risks, knew some of them... She didn't. If hurt and it felt bitter that she didn't, but she stepped back. Kept her sister back too. Continues with motivations in the next question.

13. What do they think of Flemeth? If they drank from the Well, how do they feel about being now beholden to her as Mythal?

Terrible mother, struggles to connect Flemeth to the Mythal she's been taught about. It was the first crack in her faith. It kept up for 2 years thinking that she did it for the greater good and was thinking on the long run... And then well, Trespasser happened, and it's part of the reason why she took it so bad. If she had actually drank from the Well, she'd hate being beholden by her. But like, hate to the point of asking Solas to fix that and leave the Anchor, leave her to die instead. She feels horribly guilty about having left the Well to Morrigan. If she could turn back time again, this is the one choice she'd change in a heartbeat. If she knew from the start, she would have pushed Morrigan away from the Well and jumped in herself, Pocahontas-style to spare her being beholden by her.

But I played that mission without knowing so go Aisling you can have one horror more.

[crossdressingdeath]

Still thinking about Surana, by the way.

I mean... Surana, more than arguably any other PC across the whole series, has nothing. The only people we see or hear from who actually know them are Jowan, Irving and Greagoir (other people are familiar with them, and some like Anders were aware of them, but those three are the only ones we see them really talk to). Considering Greagoir is their jailer and Irving is their teacher (and throws them under the bus to spite the Chantry with no hesitation), it's possible Jowan is all they've got (and you can easily view Jowan as a hanger-on or friend of convenience rather than a true friend). And that's true of Amell too, but DA2 reveals that Amell has siblings in other Circles and cousins in Kirkwall; Surana has nothing of the sort. You can say they're from Lothering or the Denerim alienage, but when you go to those places no one so much as thinks they're familiar or asks if they've met you before.

The thing with Surana is that they don't really... exist in any meaningful way outside of the Circle prior to becoming a Warden. No family, no loved ones, no history, no nothing. They're an elf mage in the Circle; they're basically as low as you can get in southern Thedas. And from there they can become one of the most important people of the age! But it fits really well with the way the Warden sort of haunts the narrative after DAO as either the martyr who died killing the Archdemon or the living legend who ended the Blight and stopped the Mother and then quietly vanished from the public eye but remains in the backdrop of the story as this larger than life figure for Hawke and Quiz (and presumably later protagonists as well) to compare themselves to? The other Wardens all have histories, families, old friends that get in the way of that status; Surana... really doesn't. Just Jowan, really, and no matter how his part in DAO ends he's pretty thoroughly out of the story afterwards. Surana in a way could almost have been brought into being solely to be the hero, because they have zero personal history outside of their prison! It's also interesting to me because that lack of personal history outside of the Circle leads to me thinking of them almost entirely in terms of the Circle; they more than any other character in the series are a "Circle mage", someone entirely of the Circle with no ties to the outside world, and there are some fun ways to take their character with that.

[shivunin]

kissing them to shut them up for wen 💖

ahh this one ended up sweeter than I'd initially intended c: thank you for the prompt!

(Kiss prompts)

Whatever May Come

(Arianwen Tabris/Zevran Arainai | 877 Words | No warnings)

“Well,” Zevran said, nudging Wen’s elbow with his own, “you are a fine lady now, it would seem.”

Arianwen grimaced and took a sip of her wine—which was, to her annoyance, better-tasting than the acidic stuff she’d once bought from the alienage shop. She should’ve known that being given charge of an arling would bring jokes from him, but she’d been too preoccupied by…everything else to prepare herself properly.

The grand hall in the palace was full of noise and people. They danced in the center, gowns in eye-popping colors swirling together into a massive mosaic, talked in huddles about the room, waited in line for an audience with their new king…Arianwen was glad to sit above it all with Zevran. They’d found a deep window opening on the upper level and perched there now, obscured from the room at large. 

“Very soon,” he went on, gesturing grandly with his lovely, scarred hand, “you will be demanding that the guards cut off someone’s head instead of doing it yourself.”

Wen grimaced and polished off the last of her cup, setting it aside on the window ledge.  

“You will likely have stables full of fancy horses before the year is out—and special stables for all of your other creatures.” 

She tried to imagine herself swanning about a set of stables full of horses she’d no idea how to ride and could not do it. For most of her life, she’d despised the nobility; she did not like the idea of becoming one of them, with their frivolous feuds and absurd customs. Could such a transformation even be possible, after everything else? She didn’t like to think it would happen to her, but what if…

“Perhaps you we become so preoccupied with baubles and jewels that I will be obliged to go and steal some for you instead of—”

Wen interrupted him by leaning forward and kissing him, leaving the end of the sentence unsaid. Zevran laughed against her lips, but leaned closer and curled his hand along her jaw. When she pulled away, it was only to rest her forehead against his. 

“I am not,” she told him, her voice a low whisper, “going to ask you to steal for me. If I want someone’s jewels, I will take them myself. You can stay behind and cover my tracks.”

“And let you have all the fun without me?” Zevran asked, eyes twinkling in the well-lit hall. “You are a cruel mistress indeed, mi vida.”

“I cannot win,” she grimaced. “Very well, then. What other ridiculous things will I do once I am arlessa?”

“Well,” he told her, and kissed her cheek, “you will have a scandalous affair with an assassin from Antiva.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. And you will have every knife you could possibly want. They will all but bristle from your bed.”

“That doesn’t sound awful.”

“Mm,” Zevran agreed, and kissed her other cheek. “And speaking of your bed…”

“Yes?” she said, eyes drifting slightly closed. 

Something about the way he spoke to her made the rest of the room fade away, made the glittering celebrations feel dim in comparison. 

“You will have a bed,” he said, and kissed her nose. “Not a bedroll or a cot, but a bed where you can sleep soundly.”

His voice had softened somewhat—the way he only ever spoke to her. Arianwen heard it and held very still, not wanting to chase it away with hasty words or movement. She disliked conversation, was profoundly annoyed by too much sound, but sometimes she felt she would do almost anything to make Zevran keep talking to her like that.

“But all of that can wait, yes? I believe we have more immediate plans.”

“We do,” she agreed, her voice just as soft. 

Zevran kissed her, gentle and slow, and she could feel the relief in it, the gratitude. His hand curled around the side of her face as tenderly as if she were made of glass, and for once it did not scare her. When he angled his head to the side, his lips slid over her cheekbone lightly and she shivered. 

“You will come with me to Antiva,” he murmured against her ear, “and I will show you everything that is best about it. We will run across the rooftops under the moon and dance in the streets, and we will leave all this behind for a time.” 

He kissed her cheek, the pressure so soft she might not have felt it if she wasn’t focused so entirely on his touch. 

“And I will have you all to myself.” 

“Yes,” she sighed, and leaned her cheek against his. “Go on.” 

His chuckle was quiet. One of his hands found hers, fingers twining together in her lap, and his voice went on, tender and full of a quiet hope. 

Wen focused on him and him alone, shutting out the rest of the world. For a time, there was only the window ledge and the two of them. No heroes, no Crows, no titles or Blight to worry over. For a time, they were only Arianwen and Zevran, and the hands that they had used for so many long days of violence rested joined and quiescent in their laps. 

And Arianwen closed her eyes and listened.

[green-ray-blog1]

The Prince

It's 1-1, now, between Harrowmont and Bhelen and hardcore supporters of both are now jumping Darrian and his party in the streets of Orzammar. For his next errand, Harrowmont wants Branka found. Oh, right, the paragon who invented smokeless coal (which sounds straight up magical), then took her house to the Deep Roads, and didn’t come back. Well, if Darrian found the Urn of Sacred Ashes, he can probably find Branka, or what’s left of her. But now, Bhelen wants to talk face to face, since we did his dirty work, and oh he is one slimy bastard. It's like he can’t even be bothered to put up appearances. And that’s the guy who’s gonna help the casteless ? He wants Branka found, too, but he only wants her back if she supports him. The guy definitely murdered his dad. Well Darrian’s not doing the killing political opponents (wait, did the Carta count ?), so he’ll improvise when he’ll get there, and, again, Branka might be dead already.

First, though, Alistair and Wynne apparently have a lot to ask Morrigan about her love life. Several things : First, Darrian is right there, so it’s a bit hurtful when you guys are talking like he’s just Morrigan’s thrall, now. Second, looks like neither of you have seen how much of a dork she is, and thus how funny that makes you sound. Now, to be fair, Darrian did agree to kill Flemeth for Morrigan, and it is possible she might have been lying about the whole body-jacking thing, but honestly, it’d be a really good act. Ah, whatever, you know what, this is fine, it’s all part of the plan. See, when Darrian has retired in the Korcari wilds, and he goes grocery shopping in nearby villages, there’s bound to be some dumbass shems that’ll be all like “Hey fuck you knife-ears !”, but then their buddy will be like “Dude, shut up, that’s the Wicked Witch of the Wild’s boyfriend ! You wanna get turned into a spider ?” It's perfect.

Then we meet Oghren, Branka’s husband, left behind when she took the rest of the house. He really wants to come along and, uh, well, sure. He seems pretty on edge about the whole thing, which is fair. Shale is also here. Their mage had mentioned finding them in a place related to dwarves, so maybe we’ll see something interesting. Now, it’s off to the Deep Roads

***Bonus content!!!***

Hi my name is Darrian Tabris and I have short black hair and pointy ears and a lot of people tell me I look like Shianni (AN: if u don't know who she is get da hell out of here!). I'm not related to Zevran, but I wish I was cause he's a major fucking hottie. I'm a grey warden, but that’s just until the Blight is over. I’m also a rogue and I got Isabela to teach me how to duel. I’m an elf (in case you couldn’t tell), and I wear mostly light armor. I love Wade’s Emporium and I buy all my clothes from there. For example, today, I was wearing the felon’s coat. I was walking outside the Alienage. It was like everywhere in Ferelden, smelling like wet dog, which I was very happy about. A lot of city guards stared at me. I put up my middle finger at them.

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Mahanon Tabris Meta Post

This is going to be a long one, boys. Read more under the cut. tw: brief discussion of SA

Gender and Gendered Violence

For Mahanon Tabris, the journey he undertakes in Dragon Age: Origins is one that is centered around his gender, and gendered violence. Despite the Andrastian faith being the prevailing religion across Ferelden (and Thedas as a whole), we’re still treated to the typical misogyny in-world as we can come to expect from any pseudo-medieval fantasy game released in 2009. Ranging from snide comments made about the capabilities of a fem Warden or what can be extrapolated as parallels from real-world allegory as headcanons (click here to read my headcanons about Ghilan’nain), the world of Thedas is not so different from our own in regards to subtle if enforced ideas about gender roles and norms.

Enter the City Elf origin. Regardless of whether you first played it with a masc or fem Tabris, it leaves a sick feeling in your stomach about the underbelly of nobility of Thedas and their treatment of their lessers–elves, servants, and, well, women. 

Mahanon Tabris lived most of his life in Denerim performing as a gender-conforming woman because that is what was asked of him. Although his mother Adaia indulged him in many things; the art of weaponry, whispers of a life beyond the Alienage walls, and the gift of a new name for her son once he asked for it, the narrative demands that Adaia dies. The wife dies, the mother dies, the woman dies to further the story. That is the very first thing that Mahanon Tabris learns; the woman will die. 

His father, Cyrion, asks him to put aside the notions of masculinity that his mother had humored. Not for a lack of love; in fact, it is an outpouring of Cyrion’s love, concern, and fear that drives him to make that request. Mahanon, who has learned that deviation from the norm equals death, acquiesced to the request. From there he continued to stifle everything that made him “Mahanon”--that which is now intrinsically tied to his mother, and by virtue, her death. (These themes relate to how Mahanon interacts with his Andrastian faith. I’ll discuss that in another post).

I decided not to start Mahanon’s story (Born Again in Blood) with the wedding day, and the horror that it was. Instead I started his story in the immediate wake of it; being led out of Denerim by Duncan, after he had silently witnessed his life trade hands three times. From his own, to Valendrian, to the Arl’s men, and then finally to Duncan and the Grey Wardens. Truthfully, it was hearing that Duncan had once wanted to recruit Adaia that fostered trust once they were far enough away from Denerim that he was willing to speak.

Duncan gave him that chance; let him announce his new name. On the way to Ostagar, Mahanon cut his hair. There is also an instance in which he speaks with the armorer and it appears this stranger recognizes his plight.

His lips twitched downward at the thought, but his chest bloomed with new breath. He could give any name that he wanted. He could weave any lie, any tale, any story to make it palatable on the tongue. If he was a Grey Warden now–at the least, a recruit–his life would never be the same. He remembered the name his mother gave him when his father wasn’t listening, her hands soft and warm on his cheeks. The name they shared in whispers together as she taught him how to wield a sword to defend himself. The same name Shianni muttered as he lifted her up off of the floor. “Mahanon,” he said. “My name is Mahanon Tabris.”

Fingers closed around the cold hilt and he brought it up to his neck without much of a second thought. He cut through the wet tresses just where they brushed against his collar; it would have been easier, he realized, were his hair dry, but he had already begun to cut it away now. He braced his feet in the mud and stood there, cutting, until he felt a weight fall free from his head and he could breathe freely. Left in his hands were the twenty years of his life. He would let the river take them, too.

 “I think I have something that will fit you,” he said. “Put this on underneath. Those bandages don’t do shit beneath the plate.” Mahanon looked down to see something reminiscent of a corset in his hands, though the leather strands could be more tightly bound, and it did not go as far down the torso. Confused, he looked back up at Gareth.

The smith didn’t bluster as he collected pieces of a plate set. “My daughter went off to become one of them Templars. I still see her at the Chantry sometimes. But she has a similar issue. Things can’t get in the way; I get it.” (paraphrased).

These are three experiences on the way to Ostagar alone that Mahanon is allowed to express himself the way he would prefer. There is an acknowledgment from Duncan that everything in Denerim is dead and left behind, and so he gives Mahanon that space to let it go and embrace a new life, which he eagerly grabs onto. That being said, Mahanon has just walked away from the most horrifying instance of gendered violence that one can articulate within the Dragon Age series. Reeling from that trauma, it changes how he interacts with the world.

Behind his gleaming amber eyes, Mahanon’s mind went blank. He wasn’t sure where Kallian ended and he began anymore, but all he knew is that he was a liar again; a liar wearing a beaded wedding gown. It was green once, he remembered that. Then it was red. Red, red red, and dripping with the lifesblood of men who had tried to take his own. Her own. Took Shianni’s. Took Nelaros’s. So he took theirs. Everyone whose hands had touched and stolen and dirtied. All of them. Like dogs. “I killed an arl’s son for raping my friend,” Mahanon snapped, and he took a step forward.

Finding the first of the recruits, Daveth, was a simple but stupid affair. Mahanon had stumbled upon the man harassing one of the women in King Cailan’s army. It took Mahanon planting himself firmly between them and introducing himself to give the woman a chance to run off. Not that he blamed her. Daveth introduced himself as a thief from Denerim. Not that Mahanon couldn’t tell. The accent gave away where he was from. His attitude gave away the fact that he thought he was entitled to take what he wanted even if it didn’t belong to him.

Mahanon did not sleep soundly that night. In his tent, which he erected far from the others, he remained tense. Rest did not come for him, and he did not close his eyes. Instead he curled his body around his sheathed sword, his bleary gaze locked upon the flap of his tent. A camp full of strangers. Stronger than him, faster than him, deadlier with a blade. He would be a fool to think that he could rest soundly and safely when surrounded by them.

“Come on,” the man said, forcing a smile to his face. He clapped a hand on Mahanon’s shoulder. Alistair withdrew his touch when Mahanon flinched away from the wall and his hand, scowling. Alistair’s smile turned apologetic as the pale light of the sun began to rise.

 “I am sorry,” he said to Mahanon. “I was told what occurred in Denerim. It should not have happened to your friend.” There was pity in Loghain’s gaze. Mahanon loathed pity. With that, he swept away into the tent, and Mahanon was left breathless. Reeling, he felt like the only eyes left to pull him apart were his own, as if he could step out of his own body and watched as he forgot how to breathe. He watched himself stand there as the world drowned out with the roar of blood in his ears. He didn’t need pity. Apologies. He needed them to understand. He had been the one to cradle Nelaros’s bloody corpse to his chest. He had been the one to carry Shianni out of the arl’s home as she sobbed silently into his torn sleeve. 

 Duncan found him later in the kennel with the ailing Mabari. It took him a while. The sun was up. He could only assume that he was tough to find, or maybe Duncan wanted to give him space enough to collect his composure. The dog had begun to perk up, the kennel master had told him when he had come by. Food and water had been partaken of, and so Mahanon had plopped down inside and let the dog rest her slobbery head on his lap. He wasn’t sure what brought him here of all places. Maybe it was the fact that the Mabari brought a rare feminine touch to a place where he had only been pitted against men who, unfortunately, were surpassed by dogs where tact was concerned. 

“Do you know who removed them?” Mahanon asked. He put a hand out towards Alistair’s chest to deter him from saying anything else. Jory was quaking at the sight of the woman, but Daveth’s face had smoothed into a steely regard, and there was a dark glint in his eyes that sat ill with Mahanon. Like a knife that caught moonlight through a dirty window.

That’s a lot of examples, but I wanted to lend significant insight into how Mahanon views the world around him  in the wake of his trauma. He may be a man, but he does not trust other men. He has spent too long and too wary to make the mistake of doing so, even if they do not treat him with the same regard as they would if he were still presenting as a woman. At the core of Mahanon’s masculinity, he carries with him his own violence that comes with existing as a woman–and the inherited gendered violence that he carries from his mother, and his grandmother, and so on and so forth all the way back. (Andraste ties into this as well. We will readdress this in the religious meta post).

Mahanon’s masculinity is centered around his femininity, and his outward masculine expression is another way to protect that part of him. Yes, he is trans, and has been a man from the very first breath, but he will not abandon that girlhood of his, he will not sell it out and lie abed with the men who tug and tear at women like his mother until there is nothing of them left. 

Mahanon saw the Grey Wardens as such: 

Death to his old life.

A chance to live his new life.

But the Joining was a baptism of blood, and inherently feminine. You must consume tainted blood, let it pass through you, to become Greater? It is baptism, it is birth, and it is life. It is everything that a mother does,and  it is his mother who remains the straight arrow in his mind that guides him. Mahanon’s themes and the way he grapples with his own gender is the idea of death, life, and rebirth, and everything that he has to live with. He cannot any longer deny any part of himself.

He looked down at the chalice in his hands; blood, tainted. He looked up at the statue of Andraste that peered down upon them all. He thought of her when she died a martyr. He thought of his mother, lifesblood, the breath she gave for him at birth. He thought of himself, a child, blood-red and slick from between his thighs. He parted his lips and drank deeply.