#i think what's best for ferelden is to marry anora and alistair because anora is competent and alistair has morals

[anakinh]

lasted approximately 2 hours into a new playthrough of Dragon Age: Origins before I downloaded a mod. god those mage cowls are ugly af

[fen--harel]

mini rant / thoughts

The first time I played dragon age origins was when I was 15 and visiting my dad for the summer. I had found Fenris online and I wanted to play 2 so badly and of course I was gonna start with origins.

I had romanced alistair the first time, and I remember when I first met anora I thought she was soo mean and snooty. and i had gotten so pissed when she had ratted me out to the guards when I told them I was there to save her.

Then at the Landsmeet I thought Caulthrien was insane and I killed her and then did not hesitate killing loghain and i thought riordan was fucking CRAZY for even suggesting that I spare them.

And now im not trying to say that no one has the right to their own opinion or that there's a right or wrong way to play this game and have your choices and feelings.

But I was replaying origins the same way I always do since the third time i had ever played it: romance zevran, marry anora and alistair, and spare loghain.

But I think back to like, angry teenage me who didn't see signs ? That were blatantly there.

Anora TELLS you not to fucking rat her out because she could be killed. So of course when you tell Cauthrien you're there to rescue her she's gonna throw you under the bus. Anora has lead Ferelden with as much duty as her duty-sworn father. She married Cailan and was a good Queen and arguably ran the country herself while giving her husband the spotlight. When you tell her to marry Alistair she doesn't throw a fit or argue because she can see why having a Theirin on the throne would be good for Ferelden.

Alistair (I love him so much) is not King material. He is an emotional person, which isn't wrong to be. Lord knows im a ridiculously emotional person. But being a fellow emotional person I know how hard it is to make choices based on your brain or your heart. Especially as King you HAVE to make sacrifices. I think a good ruler actually SERVES their country and Alistair who is emotional (which is fine) deserves to find his happiness with the Grey Wardens where yes he'll still make sacrifices but not that of a King. And I think it's displayed too when Riordan says that we should spare Loghain because it would be good for the Wardens gets so emotional about it and is like "ill be king if that means he gets to die" Kind of dealio.

(Also another thing I blame on Bioware is that I truly didn't feel Alistair's like- closeness with Duncan. I think it's understandable and should be there but poorly executed where I got so confused like why he was so sad about Duncan in the first place because I didn't really see the bond he and him had. But that could also be a me problem) AND THEN SER CAUTHRIEN OHMYGOD. The way that she begs you for Loghain's life and like, how much he means to her and Ferelden was so sad this time around. And you can tell from her that she also has a huge amount of respect for Loghain. Even Eamon talks about Loghain in a good light.

And I hadn't read Stolen Throne until much later after my first ever playthrough but I think there's so many instances of DA trying to hint at you like - Loghain was a good person. And he is just paranoid about something happening to Ferelden, the country he protected and served all his life. The country he taught his daughter to also protect and serve all her life.

And then it makes me sad to see people not realize that ? And have this like - hatred towards Loghain and Anora. (Although Anora too I think it's just lowkey misogyny but that's...for another time)

But even one of my best friends romances and loves Alistair but even she can see the complexities of Loghain and likes him as well. Of course she still kills him in the end because for Alistair but she likes Loghain.

And I just think about teenage me missing all these signs that Anora isn't awful and neither is Loghain and im like what...and then (It's not really in the height of it now bc the fandom has been sleeping til veilguard p much) I see people who also hate them and im like...why ???

like i said though, everyone is entitled to their own opinion. I don't like Halsin from BG3 LOL. And he seems like a wonderful character, just not my cup of tea and I can understand why so many people do like him.

just getting my thoughts out

[crossdressingdeath]

Anora: Listen to this! Can you see how disastrous a king he'd be, putting his own selfish desires above the needs of his country? You can't seriously support him. [...] Alistair: And I thought the whole idea was to bring Loghain to justice! Funny how plans change, isn't it? Anora: You'd throw away a very fortunate alliance for petty revenge? Perhaps Ferelden is better off without you, Alistair.

Not gonna lie, I'm kind of with Anora on this one. I've never actually gotten this exchange before (this is the dialogue for a softened Alistair/Alistair with his personal quest not done who was engaged to Anora and breaks it off after you spare Loghain, which I only got because I may have forgotten to get his friendship conversation that locks in the hardened/softened choice and so had to quickly backtrack to an earlier save to fix that after taking these screenshots), and it really is like... yeah, he's throwing away an alliance that's super valuable to everyone involved including Ferelden itself because the Warden won't cut a man's head off in cold blood without a trial just because Alistair told them to. Like, that is his sole reason.

And to be clear, Alistair is absolutely well within his rights to hate Loghain and want him dead! But it's important to keep in mind that he's not calling for Loghain's head because he wants actual justice (note that he's not calling for a trial, he's calling for you to cut Loghain's head off right now in front of his daughter without so much as a by-your-leave to the people actually in charge of passing judgement in this country) or cares about what's best for Ferelden or even what's best for the Wardens. He wants revenge for Duncan. That's been his goal from the start. Occasionally he adds in the other Wardens, very rarely he remembers to mention Cailan and the other soldiers killed in the fighting, but it's revenge for Duncan specifically that's got him so desperate to take Loghain's head off. Even hardened, where he will still marry Anora and take the throne after you spare Loghain, he does it because he thinks it's the only way to bring Loghain to justice, even though... he can't, because Warden. To be fair there's no evidence he actually tries to do anything to Loghain so this is probably just in the heat of the moment, but it's interesting that that's more of a priority than being king. He doesn't even show up to the final battle, which is probably because they just did the Alistair version and Anora version of that scene and no variant for where they're both monarchs but it feels meaningful under these circumstances.

[vigilskeep]

(1/3) Hi Harker! You know a lot about Dragon Age and its politics, so I'd be grateful if you'd help me out with the following matter: I made a non-Warden Cousland who joins my HoF during DAO events and whose personal quest is to take revenge for Howe's betrayal and crimes. She romances Alistair.

So in the Landsmeet, a visibly elf-blooded (hardened) Alistair is supported by the HoF (not Cousland) and the power-hungry Eamon but that's not enough and Fereldans are also quite racists, so I feel like Alistair is going to need marrying Anora or Cousland in order to get more votes and become the next king.

hmm okay so the breaks from canon here are visibly elf-blooded alistair and non-warden cousland. and the question is which outcome would be best for ferelden?

even as a younger child, cousland is the daughter of a teyrn. if anything happened to her brother she would have been the future second most powerful figure in ferelden, and the people raising and training her would have been aware of this. anora has the exact same background as daughter of a teyrn, and both would have been trained to govern. while anora has experience with actually ruling the whole of ferelden, cousland is from a more established family and has no associations with loghain for those who consider him a traitor. i would say cousland’s actual fitness to rule is up to you; i can’t make that judgement on your character, it depends on who she is and what she’s like! anora is characterised as a capable ruler devoted to her country, a layered character whose dedication, practicality, and skill are equally her ruthlessness, her ambition, and her determination that she alone is the right answer. i would consider looking at your HOF’s background and considering what their idea of a good ruler is, what their perspective is on how ferelden looks under anora’s rule, etc.

considering this rule is a partnership, you may want to think through whether alistair/cousland or alistair/anora would work together best. the epilogue slides claim hardened alistair and anora work well together, a “surprisingly effective pair” who both take an interest in ruling. cousland still being around while that’s happening is a weird and interesting power dynamic; i imagine anora would feel very threatened by her overall especially if they’re still in a relationship. as for alistair/cousland, how they work together and how good cousland is at the job is again up to you, but since they’re in love i’m assuming they’re a good team. as you mention, anora would be imprisoned—i actually didn’t know that, i ran through the landsmeet dialogue for this—but i have no idea how that turns out in the long run and there doesn’t seem to be any canon information on that. anora does point blank refuse to publicly abandon her claim and i think it’s unlikely rebellion would never be raised in her name. her claim is just too good of an opportunity to miss for anyone who wanted to rebel and i don’t think anora could resist the chance if offered. possibly matters could be brought to a compromise, perhaps where she settles for the teyrnir of gwaren, but that’s still a very dangerous and powerful position to leave her in. her claim and experience will always look good whenever alistair/cousland do anything wrong, and that goes doubly if alistair’s visibly elf-blooded. frankly i could see anora being executed, eventually, if compromises didn’t work out. that’s the game of challenging royal claims and it’s what she would have done to alistair; hardened alistair very much doesn’t disregard it as an eventual option in his landsmeet dialogue, either. i think all that’s true of any version of events where she isn’t queen

personally to summarise i think it would be an odd choice in this circumstances not to put alistair/cousland on the throne because the HOF knows and presumably trusts them personally, it’s a good political solution, cousland isn’t even a warden here so those problems (with the question of heirs and with warden neutrality) are removed, and they’re in love so why actively ruin it for them. but if your HOF has a very high opinion of anora, or (accurately or inaccurately) considers your cousland personally inappropriate for the throne in comparison to anora, they might be set on the other choice. the former is more obvious but the latter may be a stronger character decision

[deusexlachina]

Antisocial DAO Part 14 (The Landsmeet): Alistair successfully Persuades himself to marry a beautiful woman because he is Hardened

I bring back the incriminating evidence to Arl Eamon and a few other nobles. Arl Eamon is satisfied that we have enough to call the Landsmeet, so I finally decide to talk to Anora, having calmed down about her gutlessly stabbing me in the back. She says she'll help me in the Landsmeet if I support her, but she sucks so I'll only agree if she marries Alistair, a prospect that disgusts both parties. I say I could convince Alistair, ignoring that I couldn't even convince a little boy to tell me why he was hiding in a wardrobe.

Alistair is still on the fence about being king, but he's more skeptical of Anora, saying people like her always think they're the only ones competent enough to fix things and think everyone should just get out of their way. In a rare moment of self-awareness, I avoid telling him that this describes me far more than it does the ineffectual Anora.

I suggest that he and Anora could marry and then they'd average out each of their unique flavours of shittiness into a stable government. This is a Persuade check, so of course I pick it. This run is all about failing to persuade people, so I decide I'll tell him to marry Anora, fail, and then push him onto the throne alone just because Hardened Alistair is a moderately better monarch.

I can't convince anyone of anything, least of all convince Alistair to marry Anora. I even checked on the wiki - you need high persuade and/or cunning! So I prepare to fail and...

I hear the words I never thought I would hear: "you've convinced me." Come on, Alistair. I can't convince anyone of anything. You convinced yourself. I barely had to mention Anora before this guy threw up his hands and said "ALRIGHT! I WILL MAKE HER MY QUEEN AND HAVE HER BEAR MY CHILDREN." This is what the taint does to a man's mind. That or living for months with no romantic options except a diseased elf who rarely bathes. The verdict is clear: a Hardened Alistair needs no Persuading. Useful news for anyone who decides to play a Warden without social skills (not recommended).

I share the good news with Anora and then I bring my party to the Landsmeet while she thinks about her life choices. Loghain accuses me of using Alistair as a puppet king. He always makes this accusation, which can be anything from completely accurate (if you marry him or act as his "advisor") to laughably wrong (if you were supporting Anora from the start). In this case, I like to think that I would like to be the puppeteer, but I am so clumsy at it that the best I can do is mash Alistair and Anora together and I only succeed at that because my enemies are even more embarrassingly bad with people. By default, my favourite way to win!

I accuse Loghain of everything I can prove, which is a fair bit, but I Am Socially Inept and wouldn't be able to win this on my own. But I don't have to do this on my own. I've got Anora, who lays into her own dad while he avoids my spooky stare.

With Anora's help, all the nobles support me, except for one contrarian dick who likes Loghain no matter what. I win with as much grace as you'd expect. "Hah! You lose."

Keeping up my pattern of focus firing the boss until he surrenders, I challenge Loghain to a duel. As we take our places, circling each other like the two Mabari on Ferelden's heraldry, I glare at him while a nobleman looks on with the interest level appropriate for grocery shopping.

The battle is gruelling, but I have every worthwhile magical buff, including, most important of all, my Miasma. That, Loghain, is the smell of fear!

Between armour and odour, my defences are at least as thick as Loghain's, despite him being an endgame boss who specializes in using a shield. This is a testament to how balanced the Arcane Warrior is. The battle is one-sided, with Loghain missing me as much as he misses the part of his life before he first smelled me at Ostagar. Loghain surrenders, possibly hoping I'll accept but just as likely hoping I'll execute him so he doesn't have to endure the stench any more.

Just as we bicker about what to do about Loghain, my buddy Warden Riordan shows up with a compromise: we can spare him but make him a Grey Warden. I ask why Loghain could be trusted as a Grey Warden after killing a lot of us, and Warden Riordan explains that he would have no choice but to do his job: Grey Wardens and darkspawn can smell out each other's taint.

I sentence Loghain to be submitted to the taint, which is poetic justice both because he will have to become what he killed and because, after trying so hard to rid Ferelden of my Miasma, now he will have a smelly taint of his own.

[tealenko]

Ooh I want to hear more about your Dragon Age fics/head cannons!

Sure... I feel I don't talk about them enough lol... This will be long btw.

Ermmm, let's begin.

DAO: Alistair

- First videogame character I ever obsessed with

- Married to my Human - Rogue : Melissa Cousland

- King and Queen of Ferelden, of course

- I still cannot believed I forced this sweet cinnamon roll to have sex with his worst nightmare (upss)

Headcanons:

They always say "I love you" before going back to sleep

No matter how hard DA2 and DAI tries I DO NOT CARE!! This two are not separating no matter what -> they have so little time left together, I'm not going to send her away while he stays on Ferelden

She 100% cuts his hair... even when he is king

They won't have an heir, the crown will go back to Anora once he dies

Fics: Not many... I created a lot of stuff in my mind but I don't remember most of it... I know I did the wedding, but apart from that there isn't more I can talk about.

DA2: Sebastian (?)

The oficial LI in my universe is Sebastian, but this game is the only Bioware game where there isn't a romance that really catches my attention to obsession level.

I rotate between: Sebastian, Fenris and Isabella (But I'll focus on Sebastian here)

- Still mad I could not get into his pants

-Seriously Bioware... you take the 2 most beautiful men in this game and one is celibate and the other... well... the other will have the next game section all to himself.

- Married to my Warrior: Kyla Hawke

- Prince and princess of Starkhaven (duh...)

-You better bet I'm breaking his promise to the maker in order to make an heir (double duh!)

Headcanons:

He's the only thing keeping Hawke from doing crazy stuff

My Hawke goes back to him safe and sound after DAI

They love to read together

They hardly ever argue

At the beginning she's more passionate than him... that changes with time

Fics: None, as I said I quite liked it, but not enough to make me obsess.

DAI: Cullen [1][2][3]

- BEST. BIOWARE. ROMANCE. EVER. MADE (along with shenko of course)

-Thankyouthankyouuhtjanhkyoujjashdhflasdlifihals Bioware for finally giving me the chance of having A FREAKING NORMAL OFICIAL HUMAN ROMANCE THAT ENDS SO F~ING GOOD... give me just a second to calm down please.

- Married to my Human - Mage: Sybil Trevelyan

- No matter what happens in Thedas -> They'll always be happy... I'll make sure of it.

Headcanons:

They live in Ferelden after DAI

Have a daughter: Cassandra Rutherford (Cassie)

In DAI she always goes to give him a goodbye kiss before going on a mission and whenever she comes back (...and by she I mean me lol)

If they have the chance they are ALWAYS together... like always always...

Things they like to do together: read, take long walks, cook, play chess (of course), take care of the garden... you just have to think of things a cute married old couple would do XD

It was love at first sight for both of them (and I never do this... I prefer feelings developing little by little...)

Mage situation in my universe:

Cassandra as divine

Reform of the circles

Control over the mages but not imprisoned

Some sort of merit system -> the longer you work for the circle, if you don't have incident, if you do extra work, etc -> you earn more freedom

Sybil spends a few years only being able to see Cullen at weekends, until she finally gets to go home after work every day

Fics: Way too many, I love this man with all my heart since I set eyes on him in the Ferelden circle with my first warden mage (yeah... this obsession has been here for A WHILE lol)

My inquisitor origin story -> Never got much attention from her family (because she was a woman and they wanted a man to inherit the title) only close to his uncle. Her parents cut ties with her when her powers showed for the first time, they only wrote her once to the circle to tell her the uncle died and that she should stop bothering them with letters for him.

DAI (filling voids and that kind of stuff) -> Sybil developing a lovely friendship with Dorian and Varric / She falling hard for Cullen and terrified he'll never feel something for her because she's a mage / Dorian convincing her to confess her feelings, even though he doesn't know who are they talking about / her family trying to reconnect now that she's important and she sending them to hell / a lot of additional fluff to complement the canon / and a lot of additional angst in trespasser (I mean, they are 100% sure she isn't gonna make it) / a more elaborated wedding scene / her family disowning her for marrying Cullen (and she's like: I'm not even bothered by it)

Fave fic: Dorian, Varric and Vivienne finding out she's in love with Cullen -> omg I love this one lol, the 3 of them are at Vivienne's balcony and they get to see Sybil fight with herself and hesitating (going back and forwards until she finally enters into his tower) and they see the whole declaration, Jim's interruption and their first kiss from there (and of course, they bet about the possible outcome while they are it ehehehe)

They adapting to their new life together in Ferelden

She getting along with his siblings (Not a problem except for the younger sister, but they end up being good friends at the end)

Cullen getting in touch with Dorian and Varric to give her a surprise in a time she's feeling down

Cullen works just to fill the time he's alone (they're like super rich after everything my inquisitor stole in DAI lol)... so he works in construction for almost nothing, helping rebuild what the war destroyed

They end up presenting an initiative in Ferelden to build villages near the circle for mages and their families (I'm still working in this one)

The two of them building their forever house together (aw my heart)

Sybil finding out her uncle isn't dead and meeting him again after almost 20 years

She meeting my warden and (without even telling she's the herald of Andraste) fully going into "thank you for saving the love of my life during the blight" mode.

My warden finding out who she is and fully going into "thank you for saving the grey wardens" mode.

I'll stop here... for everyone's sake, but I could keep going lol

[glamfellens]

so we know that anora knew about cailan’s other infidelities because she mentions them to the warden (”cailan had his women”), and while i think it did bother her a little, she saw it as harmless and could accept it because of that. for example if the warden arranges for anora and alistair to marry but alistair intends to keep the warden as a mistress, anora will sigh and ask if she’s “to have another husband who’s eyes lie elsewhere”, but ultimately accepts it on the condition that alistair and the warden are discreet and they don’t embarrass her.

so. i think she is clearly not very happy about it, but ultimately will just let alistair (and previously, cailan) get on with what they want to do if it makes them happy. she just doesn’t want to be embarrassed by them which is fair enough honestly. i think what gave anora comfort in the situation with cailan is that she was his wife. she was the queen. they were best friends and they had grown up together. she took on the duties that cailan shirked and she did them well; she basically ruled ferelden in cailan’s name in those five years before the blight. so ultimately it didn’t matter who cailan took a liking to, it didn’t matter who he slept with or who he spent time with. at the end of the day anora was his wife, she was his queen, and he would always end up going back to her

the difference with the situation between celene and cailan however is that cailan was intending to replace anora. cailan wasn’t talking to celene in the hopes of taking her as a mistress, he wanted to marry her. eamon had alread written to cailan insisting that he “put anora aside”. so...what stings for anora in that situation in a way that it doesn’t in the other times hes been unfaithful is that anora truly would’ve lost everything. everything she had accomplished and worked for as ruler in the last five years but also. this man was her husband, her best friend? they had grown up together, and he was apparently ready to throw her aside to marry the orlesian empress instead? ouch and this isn’t even considering the events of origins i.e cailan’s death, her fathers betrayal and anora’s own potential downfall? this is another rant for another time but like damn bioware really wanted anora to suffer for the crime of being loghain’s daughter huh

[secretsfromwholecloth]

Dragon Age II, day 9.

Oh, how nice, a haunted house. Thanks, house!

Varric, if you go completely around the bend because of that idol fragment, that’s on you.

You know what, let’s go after Nathaniel, why not. Of course Anders has to come along, and I know Sebastian enjoys this one. Hm, I think I’ll live dangerously and let Isabela take the other melee spot.

It will never not be utterly hilarious that when we find Nate in the Deep Roads, he’s doing what he does best: shooting darkspawn from melee range. I can’t even shout at him this time, he’s got no melee companions left to get behind. Do you suppose it’s deliberate?

And now that I’ve given him a party to fight with again, he’s actually behaving for once in his life. Which is good, because since he’s not a companion this time, I can’t walk him away from the front lines manually.

It’s odd to be doing this quest without a Warden sibling to reunite with, I have to say. Of course, it’s still wonderful to see Nathaniel again, and blowing up darkspawn is great fun, but after two playthroughs with Bethany or Carver putting in a cameo here, I can’t help but feel like something’s missing.

...oh, there he goes. To be fair, the darkspawn whose business he was up in were dead by the time I took a second look. This sort of thing is why I’ve largely stopped worrying about him.

Well, that was fun. Now I believe there was some business on the Wounded Coast to attend to.

Heh, Evets went down within seconds, so much for his big revenge plan.

OK, Sebastian, I know you admire the Wardens and probably came out of your recent experiences really looking up to Nathaniel, but Gabran is a dagger rogue. You are not. You should really not be standing next to him when fighting a group of undead. Please stop doing your best Nathaniel impression in crowded battles, you have no excuse.

Well, it’s nice of Feynriel to be using his powers for good.

Hybris went down delightfully cleanly. That’s what you get for being overconfident, you stupid...demon of overconfidence.

I’m starting to run low on things to do, so sure, let’s go ingredient hunting with Anders.

Anders, with this business of you sending Gabran to run interference for you while not letting him in on your plan, you realize you’re setting him up to blame insufficient hovering on his part for what you end up doing.

Jeven’s attempted rebellion has been put down. Aveline seems to have found it very satisfying.

King? What king? Did Anora get married while I wasn’t looking? Ferelden hasn’t had a king since Cailan died in this timeline. Between this and apparently missing that Alistair was romanced, I’m not sure what the game thinks it’s doing. Well, when I get to DAI, I’ll be able to set things manually in the Keep.

Keep your pillow, Anders, you’re not going to die. Not for a good long while. You’re scaring your friends.

Right, time to start Best Served Cold and start winding this thing down.

Really, who thought kidnapping Bethany was a good idea? Good to see you’ve at least got a brain in your head, Keran.

Right, this conversation was why I don’t have much time for Samson. “Give them a hint of freedom, mages go bad”? Really, buddy? I mean, he’s far from irredeemable, but it is an off-putting thing to hear.

Oh. Grace. Grace is the one with the Brilliant Ideas.

And it’s midnight and I’m tired, I’ll finish this up in the morning.

[carelessgraces]

a few notes on origins-era astoria —

ON COMBAT. astoria is a dual-wield rogue; she was trained to fight by an assassin, who taught her what he knew. her focus is on speed and stealth, and that’s really the only way she can win a fight. though she was trained by an assassin and as an assassin, she is not an assassin, and if she needs that handled, she goes to an expert ( lorenzo, or zevran, or another crow ). “assassin” reflects her fighting style, rather than an occupation, or any practices. her second specialization in an origins timeline is as a bard.

ON FERELDEN. astoria is the daughter of the bann of the storm coast, and has spent the several years leading up to the blight with her time split between the university at val royeaux and the storm coast. she is familiar with fereldan politics, and with the major players; however, she doesn’t consider herself fereldan until after the blight. until then, she considers herself entirely antivan; after the blight, she considers herself as fereldan as she is antivan. 

ON MAGIC. astoria is terrified of magic; her major experience with magic leading up to this involves regular and vicious abuse at her godparents’ hands. more recently, she’s seen what unchecked magic can do, and her experiences in redcliffe don’t do much to alter or challenge that fear. if she is brought along for broken circle — which is only possible if the warden completes redcliffe’s quests first, either by killing connor or isolde — she won’t advocate for annulling the circle, but she will ask if perhaps that’s the best option. she can be convinced by being told there are children in the tower, and that’s enough to get her moving.

ON A COMPANION ROMANCE. while astoria is very fond of alistair and leliana, and considers them both dear friends, i don’t think a romance would work well with either of them — she is too fundamentally different from them both, especially in terms of morality. astoria will typically be involved in a casual romance with zevran, with the both of them fully expecting that it won’t go anywhere; if this is the case, she offers zevran sanctuary in seleny whenever he needs it, and he is a welcome and frequent staple in her court. she eventually offers him control of house vescovi, when lorenzo becomes her right hand. if she and zevran become more serious ( as in verses with @worldelivered​ ), astoria considers zevran seleny’s prince consort, grants him a title and a position in her court, and makes him her spymaster — her left hand to lorenzo’s right. 

and some changes by the time of inquisition — 

ON COMBAT. astoria goes in with some assassin skills, but chooses to train as a tempest; during the blight she had a habit of throwing herself into the middle of the fray to drop a grenade, should the battle seem near-impossible to win, and here she learns how best to do this. she has a penchant for grenades and poisons, and should not be encouraged to continue learning how to make things explode, but nobody stops her. it’s a bad move on their part.

ON ORLAIS. astoria actively and openly favors ferelden over orlais; she considers the inquisition a fereldan endeavor, and she will offer her friendship to ferelden’s regent(s), whether alistair or anora ( or both ) while actively refusing any such familiarity with the empress. part of her choice to allow celene to be killed at halamshiral is the knowledge that destabilizing the orlesian state will mean that gaspard will depend on her, and the inquisition; as far as she’s concerned, she gave gaspard his throne, and she will take it away from him if necessary. so long as he’s willing to cooperate, she’s willing to keep her own interference limited. the orlesian alliance with the inquisition is tenuous, and is solidified through the potential of mutual manipulation and interference: astoria leaves an agent in orlais, who becomes gaspard’s mistress and champions the inquisition’s interests, and gaspard sends two ladies of the orlesian court to serve the inquisition, guaranteeing orlesian voices. 

ON MAGIC. she’s no less afraid of magic — if anything, she’s more afraid — but she recognizes mages as an oppressed population. she also recognizes the value of magic in fixing the breach. her plan is always to ally with the mages, until she learns of fiona’s alliance with alexius. as far as she’s concerned, an alliance with tevinter is unforgivable. she hopes to return to redcliffe after sealing the breach, but the mages ally with corypheus instead. she ends up very happy with the alliance with the templars, enjoying the reliability of a hierarchy she can adjust to fit her needs. 

ON A COMPANION ROMANCE. i’d assumed that astoria’s in-game romance would be with iron bull, but i think she’d work really well with josephine, blackwall, or cullen as well. ( or cassandra, if the devs didn’t want to hurt me, personally. ) i love bull’s romance and i think it would be really fulfilling for astoria, but i also think she’d work beautifully with any of those others, and i’m not married to any one option. i may make her default blackwall ( again, @worldelivered‘s ) because i’m Perpetually Weeping abt thom & astoria.

[rxdonmyledger]

Coming home

Summary:  Sometimes you can't help it. Sometimes you want to forget. But sometimes you just need someone who you can call home.

This was not one of my best summaries, I'll admit. But we all love a sassy and cute Alistair.

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age or their characters/lore/story.

I hope you enjoy it. I think we all have a thing for this sweet puppy. I tried to keep my female Amell without description except for the hair, so anyone can immerse themselves in the story.  I do not ask anything but if you want to support my writing and my economic situation, I could give you my Ko-fi! Thank you in advance. Anyway, enjoy my stories!

Besides, I’m not as active as I used to be here but if you want to keep reading my stories you can find me in my AO3 account. I am currently working on a Loki x Natasha fanfic if you want to read it!

The sunset turned the sky into a purple mantle that covered Denerim. The voices of the last merchants in the market echoed in the void. It could be possible to hear a fainted reminder of the Elf Alienage.

Another day passed.

He sighed and looked at his cup of wine, twirling it so the liquid caressed the inside. He was wearing simpler clothes than he was used to, the mantle long forgotten in his wooden chest, in the room. It was a weight on his shoulders he did not want to carry. At least not when he had the opportunity to be alone.

Claiming Ferelden’s throne had never been in his mind. In his own opinion, he was the last person capable of giving orders. Or leading. Maker, he didn’t even feel capable to lead the Mabari during his Blight days. And yet, it seems that it had not been his choice. It never was. Neither was his marriage to Anora.

Anora.

He snorted as he thought of his wife, emptying the cup before filling it again. The sweet smell of wine calmed his senses and he leant against the stone banister. One of the rooms near his had the windows open and he could hear the maids talking and chuckling, trying to muffle their sounds. He smiled at it, trying to remember when everything was easier. When he was a child, running down the halls of Redcliffe, or when he was a young man, training to be a templar.

His mind wandered to his wife again. Anora. How could someone describe Anora? Well, she was ambitious. She was determined and knew how she wanted things to be done. And she knew how to have them done. She was strong and she knew how to rule a country, that was out of question. Actually, she had been doing it for years while she was married to Cailan.

Yet, he didn’t like her. They got on well in the end, after a quite…difficult start in their marriage. The idea of beheading her father was a tricky matter. Yet, in the end he had learnt plenty of qualities from her and Eamon. How to rule, how to be a tactician. He could be well-versed in war and battlefield, but she was an expert politician and she knew how to manipulate those arrogant noble people to act on Ferelden’s benefit. He had to admit that.

She was good.

They were not close friends. But they respected each other and tried to improve their relationship. They would never be lovers, they both knew that. But the alliance had been better than they had expected.

Up to this time, he was still confused with her decision. The night he had come to his chambers and asked him to marry Anora if he wanted to go on with his birthright as Maric’s son and Ferelden’s heir. He had been astonished and he remembered himself standing in the middle of the room, the fire with a glowing orange light that outlined her figure, leaning against the fireplace. Maker, it seemed her ginger hair was on fire too.

“Don’t you…don’t you love me?”

Oh, sweet Andraste. The deeply sad smile she had forced in her beautiful lips. The way her shiny eyes had gone over his own face, as if he were still a child who needed to learn more about the real world. Probably that was the most probable option.

“I’m doing this because I love you, idiot” she replied with a faint voice and a playful tone. “Do you think you’d be allowed to marry someone…well, someone like me?”

Yes, he was an idiot. An idiot in love who thought that would be enough. But sometimes, desire was not enough. And then Morrigan’s thing had come. Maker, he hated when his mind wandered to that night.

What he remembered perfectly was him going back to his own chamber, finding her sitting on the bed, back against the headboard and hugging her knees. Seeing her like that broke his heart. His mind was blank, and he just approached the bed, laying on the soft mattress, too good to be real, after years of sleeping on a bedroll or the ground. She just laid by his side and opened her arms, as she always did, welcoming him. Her whole body surrounded him, and her hands rubbed his hair the way he loved.

They had made love. Slowly. Intimately. He wanted to erase every single rest of Morrigan’s touch. And she was the only one capable of doing that. Nobody knew what would happen. Would they defeat the Archdemon? Would they survive? Or would the world immerse in a future of darkness and despair?

If they had to die, at least they would live first. Together.

At first, he had his doubts about keeping her as his…Maker, he hated that word. Mistress. She did not deserve that. He wanted to be with her, marry her. Yet, she had been terribly pragmatic as always. Even Anora agreed with the deal, claiming Cailan had his own lovers. At least she would like this one.

It was done.

The arranged marriage was made public in the Landsmeet, after she had defeated Anora’s father, punishing him for his crimes. He thought about Loghain sometimes. He had betrayed his king and fellow warriors. He had committed treason. And yet, he had been helpful and valuable to Ferelden for years. Time had passed and he sometimes considered if it was the right thing to do.

He had made a speech and promised to come back to marry Anora after fighting the Blight. Everyone had celebrated the coronation of a Theirin heir. But his mind was not on the speech or the people who listened to him. He was like a tranquil, repeating the words that had been handed to him. His eyes wandered on those surrounding him, looking for his companions.

But they were nowhere in sight. And that broke his heart. Specially when it came to her.

He was alone in this.

Yet, he didn’t blame them. His companions had followed her to the fight. She was the natural leader, a sweet-caring woman with the rage of a dragon that could sew a mouth with her magic, a simple movement of her long fingers. She loved him, and he understood it was not easy to her to watch the man she loved marrying another woman, even if their relationship was going to continue.

He sighed and heard a soft knock on his door, followed by the creaking of the wood. He didn’t turn. It was probably Helena or one of the maids with his dinner.

“Leave it on the table. I’m not that hungry now”

But a king must be strong and healthy. You must eat something.

He could hear Eamon’s and Teagan’s voice in his mind. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts while the sun started to disappear in the horizon. The night was calm and silent. And that was when he noticed.

Too silent.

He had not heard the maid leaving the room and a shiver ran down his spine. His hand left the cup of wine with deliberate movements and went for the dagger in his belt, prepared to defend himself from the threat. Even if he was not a fighter anymore, he was still skilled and prepared. Strong and fast, ready to attack.

Suddenly, a painless aura seemed to envelop his body and he discovered with fear that he couldn’t move a single inch. He tried to resist, to wriggle and escape from that magic prison. Maker’s sake, he hated that. Magic was something that kind of admired but feared, knowing he could be powerless in a battle with a mage.

Then he heard it. A chuckle.

Her chuckle.

“Alistair Theirin. I’m surprised you let me defeat you so easily” Her voice. Soft like silk sheets. Like a Sunday morning with the sun peeking through the curtains. Even in his state, without looking at her, Alistair could notice she was grinning.

“Eyra” The feeling of her magic surrounding him disappeared and he sighed, rubbing his muscles before turning.

There she was. With her light purple tattoos on her face. Her red hair framing her beautiful features and her clothes, typical of a mage. She never felt comfortable with the heavy Grey Wardens clothes. She always said they made her feel slow.

Memories hit him as if someone had punched him in the stomach. The first time he saw her when she was a mere recruit, brought by Duncan from the Circle after doing only the Maker knew what. The way they had survived, how he had hugged her when she appeared from the inside of Flemeth’s house. Camp nights, telling stories and mocking the other.

Their first kiss. Their first…Oh, sweet Maker.

Eyra approached the man with a smile and the air was cut from their lungs. Even if she kept her façade, she was as nervous as he was. It had been too many years. A long time separated from each other.

“I…I…” he stuttered, and she laughed, watching as blush crept from his neck to his cheeks before his lips twitched in that boyish smile she loved. The way she could make him nervous was unbelievable.

“You…you” she teased, crossing her arms over her chest before Alistair ran and picked her up, making her to scream. “Alistair, no!”

They twirled and laughed, not caring about anybody hearing them. They knew. Everybody knew about their king being in love with the Commander of the Grey Wardens and they did not care. Anora and him were good, so what?

“I can’t believe you are here!” he exclaimed, burying his fingers and face on her hair. She still smelled like blueberries. “Unless I fell from the balcony and I hit my head. That could be a possible reason as well”

“It seems you are the same idiot I left here” Eyra replied with a smile, nuzzling her face on his shoulder, resting her body against his. His hands went to her waist and he chuckled, the vibrations rumbling against her chest.

“C’mon. You love it”

“Just because I have no choice with you it doesn’t mean I love you”

“Ahhhhhh, you said it. You said you love me” Alistair started to pinch her and hit her with his index finger, only for her to laugh and try to escape from his strong grip.

“Maker’s breath, you’re the king of Ferelden. Behave!”

“That’s why I can allow myself to misbehave”

“You are unsufferable” She replied, and Alistair stared at her. The last sunrays made her hair shine. It was like a fire, threatening to consume him all. Her sweet smile and her lovely eyes on his own. “How you have you been here?”

“A few hours”

“What? And you didn’t come to see me?”

“I was having tea with Anora”

Alistair’s face was priceless at this information and Eyra chuckled, walking inside the room and taking off his cloak, tossing it on a chair. The man followed her like a puppy, and he moved his hands in an exaggerated manner.

“Are you telling me you went to have tea with my wife before coming to see me?” Eyra bit her lip and nodded, smiling like a child. Alistair huffed and feigned indignation. “My wife and my lover together! I can’t believe! Having tea and pastries without me”

“Don’t forget the cake, dear”

“Of course! You had cake without me! I despise you, Mage” he added with a voice that was intended to sound cruel and mischievous but failed in the attempt.

Both women had forged a bond over the years. Eyra had admitted Anora’s qualities as a queen and Anora was surprised with her work as the Commander of the Grey Wardens and her title as Arlessa of Amaranthine. When some political matters had to be discussed, Eyra usually went to Anora and the queen looked for her advice when necessary. All of this under the astonished gaze of Alistair, who could not believe it.

“Cailan had his affairs, dear” Anora had said one night they were having dinner together. “I don’t mind you having one. Especially if you truly love her. I can’t blame you and this political situation. Besides, she’s an exquisite person. A natural leader and an incredibly talented mage”

Maker, he had not only one but two pragmatical women.

“Did you even bring me a piece, at least?” Eyra pointed at the tray with her head and Alistair grinned like a child. “Andraste’s breath, I love you. Did I say that? Yes? Good”

“You love me because I brought you cake?”

“AND cheese!” Alistair exclaimed, raising his plate before taking a mouthful of food, much to Eyra’s disgust.

“Honestly, my mabari has better manners than you while eating”

“But I smell better”

“Well” Eyra scrunched her nose. “You are levelled with him”

“Hey! Don’t hurt my manly feelings, you woman!” Eyra raised her hands, smiling and took the fork to grab some food.

Time passed and both enjoyed a delightful dinner. It was summer and the balcony’s door was open, allowing the soft night breeze coming into the room. The candles lightened Eyra’s face and made her eyes shine with sparkles. Even her tattoos seemed brighter. Alistair had his chin on his hand, listening to her stories about how she had wandered around the world.

“Honestly, I thought that beast was going to bite me” she finished with a chuckle, shaking her head and taking her cup to drink. Before it took her lips, Eyra smiled sweetly at her lover’s gaze. “What?”

“Nothing. It’s just…I missed this. I missed you” Alistair grabbed her hand and kissed her knuckles, one by one, making her giggling. His brown eyes looked at her intensely. “Did you…come here to tell something about…?

He didn’t even finish the sentence before she shook her head. Eyra already knew what the question was.  The reason why she had left Amaranthine to go all over Thedas. The reason why Alistair and the mage had been separated for years.

He knew he was pressured to have a child. An heir to the Theirin legacy. A new king or queen of Ferelden. Yet, with the taint, it was difficult. He had tried several times, even if he avoided Anora’s chambers as much as he could. Yet, it was useless. She was not pregnant.

Alistair remember their wedding night. He was nervous, sweaty, and the looks she was giving him didn’t help. He didn’t want to sleep with Anora, he wanted to sleep with Eyra. Still, his wife talked to him, trying to calm him down enough to perform his duty. And he did, with a bittersweet taste in his mouth.

“I’m sorry, my love” Eyra muttered in a mere whisper. Alistair’s eyes softened and he leant to press a kiss to her forehead.

“It’s not your fault. You will do it. If someone can, it’s you. I still remember our days in the party, from one side of Ferelden to the other, fighting darkspawns and monsters and dragon and you were the sweetest girl I’ve ever met” Eyra smiled softly, leaning against his shoulder. She loved the sound of his voice. “And you were always caring for us. Protecting us”

“And trying to stop Morrigan and you from killing each other”

“Oh, and do you remember when I felt jealous of your mabari?”

“What?” Eyra frowned and observed Alistair’s face turning crimson. Her mouth opened and she squealed. “Andraste’s breath! You were jealous of a dog!”

“No, I…did I say that? No, no. Of course not” Alistair coughed and tried to cover his blush with his cup, while Eyra held her head with her hand, grinning at him. “Okay, fine! Maybe I was a bit jealous of your dog. I mean, he could sleep with you!”

Eyra laughed heartily until tears rolled down her cheeks and her stomach hurt. Alistair had his arms crossed over his chest, staring at her with an eyebrow raised.

“I’m sorry. It’s just so funny. It seems they were right”

“What? Who?”

“Leliana, Zevran, Morrigan…” she counted with her fingers and Alistair slapped his face, shaking his head.

“Maker…I’m embarrassing myself”

“Yeah, well. That’s part of your charm, I guess”

“Is that so? Well, then…” Effortlessly, he grabbed Eyra and placed her over his lap, with her legs on the sides. He nuzzled his nose against hers, smiling. “Tell me, what other charms are irresistible to you”

“I didn’t say you were irresistible”

“You don’t have to. I can see it over your beautiful puppy eyes when you look at me”

Eyra sighed when he wriggled his eyebrows, his smile always in his lips. She chuckled and put both arms around his neck, lowering her voice while biting her lip. It had been a long time since they held each other. It was like an echo of another time. Their bodies had memory and remembered every single kiss and touch. And sweet Andraste, how much they had missed it.

Alistair’s hands cupped both of her cheeks and she leant, closing her eyes and enjoying that feeling. He stared at her, mesmerized, trying to memorise every single feature of her for when she left. Unable to hold himself any longer, he leant and pressed his lips against hers, a soft, delicate, and feather-like kiss that made their heads to spin. They felt dizzy as their mouth moved in a non-spoken agreement.

“Eyra…” he muttered when they moved back, breathing each other’s air and staring at their eyes, blown with not-so-subtle lust. The mage kissed the tip of his nose and moved over his jaw, feeling Alistair’s hands gripping his waist. When she reached his earlobe and licked it, he groaned and stood up, forcing her to stand.

His brown eyes looking at her as he walked until her knees hit the massive mattress. Even if time had passed and he was no longer a warrior, Alistair was still strong and could lift her without problem. Eyra bit her lip, just to tease him and his eyes followed the movement, tongue licking his own lips. His breath was ragged, as if he had been fighting darkspawn for hours.

Eyra went to unlace her shirt but his hand, bigger than her own, stopped her.

“No, I want to do it”

She smiled and nodded, letting her arms hang by her sides, observing his movements. They were deliberated, slow, enjoying every inch of skin displayed to him. His calloused hands caressed it before replacing them with his soft lips, peppering kisses over her jaw and neck, nipping and biting. Eyra’s breath hitched and soon her upper part was bare except for her breast band. Alistair frowned and stared at the cloth.

“I still hate that”

The woman chuckled and shook her head, feeling his hands caressing her hips, circling the skin with his thumbs. Soon they moved upwards, where her breasts were craving for his attention. Alistair bit the tender skin between the neck and the shoulder, and she gasped, noticing his smile against her skin. Her hands buried in that hair she loved and pressed his body against hers.

Soon the knot that held the band together and tossed it on the floor, staring at her body with admiration. To Alistair, not even Andraste could compare to his lover. She smiled shyly, as she did the first time they slept together inside her tent.

He felt a twitch in his heart, the memory of his camp nights still fresh in his mind. Sometimes he wondered what would have happened if he had left with the Grey Wardens, being her second-on-charge.

“Are you going to stay there all night, or will you do something?” she teased, biting her lip and wiggling her hips so the rest of her clothes fell, leaving her bare in front of him. Alistair felt his throat dry and swallowed hard. “Yet, I think it’s not fair that you are still dressed”

“No? Well, I’m the king here, and I think I might deserve having a little bit of advantage” he winked, and she punched him in the shoulder playfully before she started to undress him.

His broad chest was still tanned and strong. He had some scars here and there, the results of his time as a Grey Warden with Duncan and the travelling he had done with Eyra and the rest of the companions. He had some chest hair down his navel, where his breeches started. Alistair picked her up and placed her on the mattress, straddling her hips. He peppered his neck with kisses while his hands went to her breasts, touching and caressing them. Eyra gasped when his thumbs circled her nipples and arched her back.

“So sensitive. As always.” he grinned against her skin and lowered his head, capturing her nipple with his mouth, making her moan. “I miss those sounds. The softness of your skin…” Eyra pulled at his hair, placing her legs around his waist. His clothed length rubbed against her thigh and she felt her mind going blank. “I wonder…If I can make you come as I used to…”

Alistair’s wicked smile remained in his features as he went down her body, pressing kisses on her skin. Eyra knew where this was going, so her head hit the pillows, biting her lower lip. His hands caressed her thighs almost tenderly, peppering kisses all over the skin until his breath fanned against her folds.

“Oh, sweet Maker…I missed this”

Before Eyra had a chance to reply, he pressed his tongue against her clit, circling slowly, teasingly. His calloused fingers caressed her wet folds while his free arm forced her waist to the mattress. The mage huffed and writhed, letting small whimpers escape her throat.

“Alistair…” she muttered, grabbing and pulling his hair with both hands.

“I love when you say my name, my dear”

She moaned and tried to get free from his grip, only to be stronger. Alistair moved his head both sides, tapping and licking. Eyra screamed his name when she felt two fingers inside her, looking for that spot that made her mind go blank. In a few minutes, that man had the Commander of the Grey Wardens begging for release, which he gladly complied. The knot in her stomach tightened and her legs shook around Alistair’s head. His brown eyes observed her, not wanting to miss a single thing.

And oh, how he loved watching her come like that, eyes shut and hands gripping the sheets as if her life depended on it. Her chest moved as she tried to catch her breath and he rode her orgasm until she couldn’t take it any longer. When Alistair moved away, his chin was covered with her fluids and Eyra felt her whole body burning in shame.

“Oh, Maker. Are you blushing? The great Hero of Ferelden?”

“Stop mocking me” she replied with her muffled voice, as she had covered her face. He laughed and kissed her body, cupping her face.

“It was beautiful. You are beautiful”

Eyra Amell felt the sting of tears on her eyes and closed them when their lips touched. Her hands caressed his back, feeling his taut muscles. Soon they moved down the spine, raising goosebumps under the touch until they reached his ass, grabbing it.

“Hey!” Alistair shrieked with a smirk, making her laugh.

“Stop complaining, you love it” she replied, pecking at his nose before helping him remove his breeches. He stood there, kneeling by her side and Eyra couldn’t stop herself.

She pushed him until he fell on the mattress, his gaze following every single movement. She smirked and straddled him, rubbing her core against his length. Alistair gasped and grabbed her hips. Eyra placed her hands on his broad chest and, without taking his eyes off him, sank herself to the hilt. Slowly, intimately. The only sounds in the room where their breaths, rhythmic and ragged. Alistair groaned when he filled her completely.

“Maker…” he muttered, feeling his head dizzy at the feeling of her warm inside around him. “It’s been a long time…”

“Too long” said Eyra with a croaked voice, rocking her hips.

It took her a while to get used to it, but soon they moved at unison. Their bodies were like a puzzle that fit perfectly. The moans, the sweat, rolling down their bodies. The movements were deliberated, slow. They had all night to feel each other, taste each other. There was no need to rush.

His feet were on the mattress and his hips moved to meet her movements. They became faster, harder. Skin slapping skin, the sound echoing in the room. Moans, whimpers and soft words of love. Everything they wanted to say and couldn’t over the years. In that moment, they were no longer king and commander. They were just to lovers, as they were in their tents.

Eyra’s nails dragged lines over his shoulder and Alistair sat down, circling her body with his arms. His forehead against hers. One of his hands went to his small bundle of nerves and her body tensed. He knew she was close. She could feel it.

“C’mon, my love…oh, sweet Andraste…”

He pumped his hips faster and her body shivered while pleasure ran over her veins. She closed her eyes and Alistair kissed her, swallowing her moans. Her hands pulled his hair and he felt himself coming inside her, shuddering.

“Alistair…” she muttered with half-lidded eyes, peppering kisses over his face.

Without saying a word, they laid down and covered themselves with the mattress, caressing each other and making the other laugh. The following day they would have to remain serious and professional. And soon, she would leave again.

For now, that was not important. They had each other in their arms.

[greensconnor]

i’m asking about your dragon age characters

molly i would KILL for u im ur personal hitman now

anyway i said my city now because the entire bioware writing team sucks shit xoxo and i’m so much smarter than all of them but also fully incapable of having a normal amount of ocs for anything (see: the time i made 20 rwby ocs in less than two weeks) so i have. five worldstates here r some assorted thoughts

uhhh so the worldstates r as follows

eira mahariel (two-handed berserk/champ spec), rhett hawke (two-handed berserk spec), alas lavellan (mage knight enchanter spec), romanced alistair/fenris/dorian respectively

shiv tabris (dual wield duelist/assassin spec), radella “rads” hawke (mage spirit healer spec), kat adaar (two-handed reaver spec), romanced morrigan/isabela/cassandra respectively because im a pc gamer and i think i should be able to date whatever video game woman i like because im infinitely better than cishet men

this world state said yeah i respect mens rights. mens rights to shut the fuck up

twins bronson (sword/shield reaver spec) & bryant cousland (archer ranger spec), carmine hawke (archer assassin spec), syracuse trevelyan (dual wield tempest spec), romanced zevran/anora/josephine/bull. if ur wondering how that works my city now and the warden, hawke and the inquisitor should all meet and so they do because i Said So

riva amell (mage arcane warrior/battlemage spec), graham “gray” hawke (mage force spec), hellathen “hela” lavellan (archer assassin spec); romanced cullen/anders and later blackwall because hawke only likes men who will break his heart. hela doesn’t have a romance because she’s literally 20. who let her lead the inquisition (me it was me). also it should be noted the version of cullen i have in my head only vaguely resembles actual cullen because i write better than dragon age writers ever could and i gave him an Actual Cohesive Narrative and he gets bullied relentlessly for being scrawnier than his mage boyfriend

malien “mal” surana (mage spirit healer/keeper spec), jules hawke (sword/shield reaver spec), ash adaar (mage rift spec), romanced leliana/merrill/krem because i should have been able to kiss krem and its a Crime that i am not allowed to

knight enchanter is a Very op specialization and by Very op i mean it makes a mage with their built-in low constitution stats able to solo the biggest baddest dragon in the game on nightmare mode in under five minutes so like. alas lavellan fist fights dragons for fun send tweet

i think lavellans should be able to hit ppl with bricks for all the shit they endure. thus solas gets pranked by mahariel and alas by which i mean they just tip buckets of water onto him from the rookery

kat might be my only competent inquisitor but she did also try to knock out the right hand of the divine and attempt to gap even tho there’s fucky magic burning up her hand so does she have a brain cell? you decide

also its fantasy land and i do what i want so kat has blue/gold sectoral heterochromia

gray “mage rights” hawke is best friends with fenris which surprises literally everyone. their friendship started because they got into a fist fight and then they were like okay i respect u now. hawke is like hey fenris give me ur sword i have a fun trick to show u [uses his sword as a foci to zap carver in the ass with lightning]

i am Always thinking abt like how cullen could have been one man anti-chantry propaganda machine if he hadn’t so blatantly been shoehorned into every game past origins so anyway bioware forgot about a wholeass moon i can write what i like. [holds up cullen by the scruff of his stupid armor] not only are you bisexual you are also a bottom

i also Hate the whole uwu mage haters get fixed by romancing a mage

unlocked secret dialogue option where my inquisitors verbally cuss out dorian’s dad instead of whatever sympathetic narrative the writers were going for cuz its bullshit.

riva is a showoff and a Menace about being as good as he is because he unabashedly loves being a mage and hes like oooh look at me im sexy i dont need to use my hands to cast magic because i’m just that good ;)) and you know what. hes right.

gray, on the other hand, does Not want to be mage. he wants to be a druffalo farmer and retire in the hinterlands and be left the fuck alone. unfortunately he is gay and has one brain cell and terrible, terrible taste in men. ribbed relentlessly for this by riva (altho does he have room to talk hes been hung up on cullen since he was like 13)

shiv is trans n kieran is the result of doing the dark ritual with her wife and he looks a Lot like shiv (dark skin pointed ears, shock-white hair) and morrigan always just Assumed she dyed it or did something magic with it so seeing their kid come out like that was a WEIRD time for her

leliana almost Murdered by cassandra in worldstate 5 because the warden is Actually There The Whole Time, but its been 10 years, mal’s cut off all her hair and gotten full facial tattoos and she’s like “no one will know its me its fine” and she’s right. she gets away with it. only cullen like, Knows, because he knew her before the blight but he doesnt have a death wish n he like. will Not piss her off

shes dalish by birth n she was stolen from her clan by templars and thus is vehemently anti-circle and anti-chantry in general

uhhh the vallaslin (elf face tattoos) of my 4 dalish characters are:

eira = ghilan’nain (chose em cuz shes rlly interested in the navigation aspect of the goddess)

alas = falon’din (god of the dead n he picked them because he’s Also the god of fortune and alas is like tee hee fun but also he can and will kill u if u fuck with him so yk its fitting)

hela = june (god of the craft bc she likes to Make things but june is also the god who taught the elves 2 hunt and hela is. a hunter.)

mal = elgar’nan (allfather/god of vengeance bc. she is Vengeful. she is Angry. but yk fucking with shem politics and fucking their divine is like. mal may have little a retribution. as a treat.) yes she has the full half-face solid colour tattoo she does NOT fuck around.

bronson and bryant r not genetically identical but they Look similar enough 2 anyone who doesn’t know them well enough 2 play spot the distance. anora and bronson think this is a super fun game to play, especially when nobles realize they’ve swapped out the king but they’re too nervous to say anything

eira mahariel has two hands. one is for holding hands with alistair and the other is for throttling elven gods, apparently. she’s killed one before so solas she’s coming for your bitch ass next. watch urself.

speaking of eira and alistair are married thru dalish tradition and humans don’t recognize it n alistair loves 2 re-propose to her with random things. he’ll just pick up like. a bit of cheese and be like “marry me ;)” and she’s like GASP but whatever will the chantry say!!!! all of their friends r sick of them

“vhenan if you love me bring me a sword” “you think i could do better than a sword made out of space rock?” “:)”

eira is my youngest hero at 18 at the start of her game and kat is my oldest at 32 at the start of her game.

none of my hawkes are under six foot. rhett is the tallest (6′8″) and rads is the shortest (6′2″).

syracuse trevelyan would have been the Perfect inquisitor if he were not a pretty boy himbo and a gay bastard who does Most Things just to spite his parents.

[corypheus pointing at syracuse’s visage in his crystal orb thingo] i want that twink obliterated

i love the companions from older games return thing i truly do so i make it a point for Every companion to return in inquisition so the gang rlly is all here because i am a Slutte for found family

i lie in my keep worldstates because i dont want to choose between hawke and alistair during here lies the abyss but i never make him king and every time i play inquisition and cole has the wicked grace line it makes me Scream. alistair baby im so sorry i did this to you but i didnt actually do this to you

yes this is my everyone lives au but like. all the time. i have never left hawke in the fade and i do not intend to.

fuck whatever nonsense about wardens not being able 2 have kids. by sheer divine power (me) anora and bryant have three daughters; eleanor, sabina & cecelia n both bronson and zevran make Excellent uncles because i think anora deserves good things because i’m tired of bioware being like women bad, actually,

so like most of the time i have the warden & hawke turning up after the move to skyhold n then staying on, with the exception of bryant, carmine & mal. mal is as mentioned previously just There the whole time with her girlfriend. bryant steps in as king of ferelden w/ interests in closing the big hole in the sky spewing demons in2 his kingdom yk. carmine shows up because she wants to help & she wants protection for bethany but she outright says she’d rather die than be inquisitor so cassandra is shit out of luck.

“CHANGE HER MIND VARRIC” “she once doubled down on insisting amaranth was a shade of blue because she didn’t want to admit to being wrong. no one’s changing her mind seeker”

alas is the middle child of eight and is thus very good with children and also bossing around people older than him. 2 of his older siblings come to the inquisition when stuff in wycome has been settled

i left ash with the basic canon background with Some variation (he grew up under the qun and left of his own free will when his magic was discovered n he realized he couldn’t take living as a saarebas

kat on the other hand was raised tal-vashoth and has bounced around basically all over thedas and leads her own merc company when the conclave blows up. she also speaks multiple languages. is there a language she doesn’t speak? probably not

just realized how long this got so im gonna like. stop my general rambling now but lmao yeah theres some basics. waves hands.

[nothinglorious]

@cousllnd​ discussed a starter.

“You need to understand that what was decided is the best thing for this country. You’re a Therein,, yes, but people love Anora. But they also love the soon to be hero and having you two marry is a brilliant idea. The people of Ferelden will rejoice in having her as Queen, especially once the archdemon is slain.” Alistair couldn’t believe Eamon and he couldn’t believe he’d talked Roslin into this. When she’d come to him to tell him the news, he’d tried to seem enthusiastic. He thought he’d done well hiding what he truly felt, but maybe it hadn’t been that good of a mask because Arl Eamon had found him nearly an hour later. 

“Everything has been decided for me for the entirety of my life. I never asked for any of this. I never asked to be an orphan, I never asked to be sent to the templars. I never even asked to be King. I’ve only ever wanted one thing and that was to be a Grey Warden, because it was the one thing I was good at. And now, you have me marrying my friend because you think it’ll be good for Ferelden. When will it ever be taken into consideration that maybe I don’t want any of this? Not a kingdom and not a marriage either.” Alistair had been done pretending. He didn’t hate Roslin, he could never, but no one had asked him how he felt about marrying her. Did she realize what it meant? If they were to marry there would be things she’d have to do, that he’d have to do...and they had never even shown interest in one another. 

Well – that was a lie, he had thought she was beautiful, but he was quite sure that she didn’t feel the same. 

When she had told him the news, all he could muster at first was a single sentence. ‘Are you sure you want to marry me?’ 

If she stayed a Grey Warden...she could have so much more then life at court. He knew she came from a rather noble family, but he wasn’t sure if she even liked that life. They hadn’t discussed it and he wondered if it was too late to ask now. 

“Would you rather rule with Anora then?” The words stopped Alistair in his tracks and he shook his head. He couldn’t be married to her, not the woman whose father killed the only person who had ever seen Alistair as more than just a nuisance. “I’ll marry Roslin.” He could grow to love her, they could maybe one day be happy. Alistair did care about her, despite his uncertainty and they were good friends. Eamon seemed sure they could rule together, he just hoped that hew as right. 

However, they still had the darkspawn to deal with and the archdemon. They didn’t know if they’d even make it out alive. “Let’s just deal with one thing at a time. The darkspawn aren’t going to wait forever.” He needed to go find Roslin and see when they were departing. Maybe shoving his sword through things would help him clear his mind and get behind this a little more. 

[allisondraste]

Temperance (11/?)

Pairing: Nathaniel Howe/ Female, Non-HoF Cousland

Story Summary:  Nathaniel and Elissa were childhood friends, but time and distance tore them apart. In the aftermath of the Fifth Blight, and Ferelden’s Civil War, both Elissa and Nathaniel must attempt reconstruct their tattered lives. As a series of events lead them to be reunited, both are reminded of so many years ago when things were much simpler.

Chapter Summary:   Did someone say "Epistolary Chapter?" Oh wait, no, that was me... EPISTOLARY CHAPTER.

First Chapter Previous Chapter [AO3 LINK] Denerim, 9:31 Dragon

Dearest Sister,

Apologies for taking so long to write to you. I know you must be just beside yourself with worry.  Never fear! Big brother is alive, just drowning in responsibilities. Assuming the role of Teyrn has a lot more to it than just sitting in the big chair and sending soldiers to do things.  Who knew there would be so much bloody paperwork? Father certainly never mentioned it. He made it all look so very seamless and easy. Were he here now, I think he’d be wishing his brilliant daughter had been the heir instead. You should have been the heir from the start, precedent be damned.

I never expected to inherit Highever like this.  Father led me to believe he would pass it on well before the end of his days and serve as my advisor.  I’m honestly lost. There are so many things in disrepair. Queen Anora did a marvelous job at restoring the castle, but the city, our lands… they’ve suffered from the Blight, and from Howe’s piss poor management of them.  I hope and pray everyday that I am making good choices for our home and for our family.

I know that you are eager to know how I am faring more personally, and to be honest Liss, it is all I can do to make it through the day without breaking down.  It was one thing to be told that my wife and son were murdered, it is a completely different experience to walk into the room we once shared and for it to be empty.  To see Oriana’s dresses and jewelry, that wooden sword you gave to Oren. Just being here is a constant reminder of everything I’ve lost. If I could bring Rendon Howe back to life just to murder him myself, I would without hesitation.

Did you know Queen Anora stripped the Howe family of their lands and granted it to the Grey Wardens?  I just received a very official letter from the new Arlessa of Amaranthine, Warden -Commander Lucia Amell, Hero of Ferelden (What a mouthful!)   I don’t think she wrote it. I feel like she might be too busy dealing with whatever is happening in Amaranthine right now with the Darkspawn. Either way, I thought you’d be interested to know.  I’m not sure that I think Howe’s family deserves to pay for what he did. Maker… I wonder if word has even reached Nathaniel in the Marches. Wonder how he’ll take it.

Anyway, I am sure that you do not want to read pages of my rambling.  I do miss you, sis. I wish that you could be here to kick the arses of all these families trying to arrange marriages with their daughters.  I’m not ready yet... I don’t know that I ever will be.

I hope that Denerim is being kind to you.  Does the queen keep you busy? Knowing Anora, I assume so.

Talk to you soon. Love, Fergus

P.S.  I’ve sent a package along with this letter.  I found something that I thought you might want to see.

Liss sighed heavily, as if she could exhale the weight off her chest, and sat Fergus’ letter down on the desk before her.  It was not easy for her to hear that her big brother, the man she looked up to above anyone else alive, was so defeated. Not that she blamed him of course.  She had only to mourn the loss of her parents while he had lost his wife and son as well. He didn’t blame her for that, but she still did. She probably always would.

Blotting the tears from her eyes with the sleeve of her dress, she moved to open the package that had come with the letter, doing her best to avoid thinking about Howe or his family or Amaranthine or any of it.  It sat atop a stack of correspondence which she had only gotten the chance to sort through today. Fergus was correct in assuming she had been busy. Restoring order to a country required long hours in a small chamber and many heated discussions.

She smiled at the package’s clumsy wrapping.  There was no question that it was truly from her brother.  Nobody else in Thedas could wrap something so poorly, and with such honest effort.  She pulled at the twine that held the burlap in place, uncovering a thick, leather-bound journal.  Even worn by time and water damage, it was unmistakable. It was hers, and she had forgotten it even existed.

Unable to contain her excitement she leaned back in her chair and began to thumb through the pages.  The first several were relegated to poems and pieces of prose she had started but never finished, poorly drawn women with swords, and some pressed flowers.  After that, she had apparently begun using the journal as a diary.

15 Justinian, 9:18 Dragon:  Today was bad.

That was all Liss’ eleven-year-old self had written.  Vague, but the expressive scribbles below depicted a man that looked like Rendon Howe with the word “knife-ear” written in a bubble beside his head.  Her blood boiled remembering that day. Poor Rila. Liss had fond memories with the Elven girl, but she recalled all the times she got her into trouble, simply because she was too oblivious to realize that Rila did not have the same privileges she did.  If she had, it would have spared them both some grief.

Liss flipped through several pages of brief entries from that summer, most of them complaining about the fact that Nathaniel was not allowed to talk to her.  That had always pestered her, and she had not really understood the reason why his father frowned upon their friendship, at least not at the time. Obviously, he had been worried that it would develop into more and that she would want to marry Nate instead of Thomas, but Rendon did not know his own son.  Nate had not been interested in her like that. If so, he would have taken one of the ample opportunities she had given him throughout their formative years to say so.

She laughed bitterly, shaking her head. Howe was dead, her family was dead, Thomas was dead, and she had not spoken to Nate in over seven years, so he might as well have been dead, too.   None of it mattered anyway.

She slammed the journal shut and placed it in one of her desk drawers, unable to bring herself to go through the rest of it at the moment.  She knew how the story went, after all. It had been some time since she had really let herself think about Nathaniel. Well, she always thought about him. There just happened to be a particular way she didn’t let herself think about him.  He was a part of her, and he took that part with her when he left, that’s all that really mattered. Damn him for never writing. Damn him in general.

Opening another drawer, she pulled out a piece of parchment and reached for the quill and inkpot that sat at the far corner of the desk.  She wanted to write to her brother while she had time. It would not do for her to become lost in thoughts of a past that wasn’t important anymore and forget to respond to Fergus for weeks while she drowned her sorrows in work.

Dear Fergus,

You don’t have to apologize for needing time to get yourself sorted.  I kind of expected that. I am just happy to hear from you at all. I wish that there were some words I could say to make everything better, but you and I both know that the only thing that will help us heal is time. I was going to try to avoid  saying sorry again because you told me not to, but I am. I’m sorry. I seem to get sorrier every day.

I have heard about Amaranthine.  More than I would like to, quite frankly.  Amaranthine this, Amaranthine that. Amaranthine is all I hear about these days.  One of the members of Anora’s council is a Grey Warden, and each time we meet, we spend more than half of the time listening to a bunch of angry banns complaining about the fact that an apolitical entity like the Grey Warden Order is now somehow nose deep in politics.  Alistair — the Grey Warden — doesn’t even have contact with the Warden-Commander, so he can’t answer to any of it. I worry, Fergus. There are talks of an assassination, a plan to remove the Hero of Ferelden from her seat. It’s almost as if they’ve forgotten the woman saved their sorry arses from the Archdemon.  

I understand the queen’s reasoning, but this has caused needless strife.  If she had granted Amaranthine to Delilah, who almost assuredly had nothing to do with her father’s evil, we would actually be able to get some work done instead of rehashing the same arguments a thousand times.  Andraste’s blood, I’m not cut out for this.

But that is beside the point, and I’m certain you don’t want to read me rant on and on about politics, of all things.  Sounds like you have enough on your hands as is, juggling all of those marriage proposals. I will gladly march right up to Highever to put those power-hungry airheads in their place. All you have to do is ask.  You need time to actually mourn, and taking a wife who will be more interested in your status than your well-being would not be a good decision.

Listen to me, Fergus, I do not care how lonely or hot and bothered you get, don’t you dare marry one of those glorified leeches.  Get a friend. Go to a brothel. Get a friend who you feel comfortable doing brothel things with. Do what you have to, but I’ll not see my brother married to someone who does anything but love him for who he is. Do you understand me?

Remember that you do have a sister here who cares about you, too. Denerim is just a couple days’ journey from Highever, and as soon as things slow down here, I’ll be making a trip to visit.  The thought of it terrifies me. The last memories of home I have are covered in blood and sound like screams. Still, I’ll have to eventually. What better motivation than to see my big brother who I miss dearly.

Thank you for the journal, by the way.  It’s a difficult read, but I’m grateful to have it back. I had forgotten it even existed.  Apparently, 11-year-old me was chock full of feelings about Rendon Howe, too. I’m sure you remember that.

I love you, Brother, and I will see you soon. Sincerely, Liss

Liss folded the parchment and stuffed it into an envelope that she then sealed and addressed to be sent out tomorrow. She wondered whether she had been too stern with her brother, but someone had to remind him to think with the head on his shoulders and not the one in his breeches!  He was a grown man who had basically been coddled his entire life, which meant he needed someone to look out for him until he learned to do that for himself. Sheltered young men always made the worst decisions. Perhaps it was hypocritical, coming from someone who was younger than him and also sheltered, but she didn’t care.

Setting the prepared postage aside, Liss focused on the stack of correspondence filling her desk, going through each envelope and scroll one by one.  Many of the letters were junk: advertisements from local shops, political mailings, bounties, missing persons reports, and other things that Liss tossed into the waste bin at her side.  

There were several messages from Bria, asking Liss to come visit, and she made a mental note to do so.  Bria was intelligent, funny, and good at what she did. Liss enjoyed her company, and had spent many hours talking with the woman, learning a lot about Antiva and a little about the Forge.  It was a friendship she had not expected, but one for which she was grateful nonetheless.

Speaking of unexpected friendships, there was also a handful of notes  from Alistair -- tiny scrolls that, when unraveled, revealed brief messages with messy sketches beneath them.  One in particular depicted a stick figure labeled as “Alistair” sitting atop a pile of little triangles.

There is too much cheese in this castle.  What is it with you noble people and smelly cheese? Is it some kind of contest?  I don’t even like cheese. It’s just old milk. Blech!

Another note featured some poorly drawn shape that looked oddly vulgar until she read the note that accompanied it.

Liss. Did you know that the first ever crime reported in Denerim was “Theft of Parsnip?” Look it up. P.S. I don’t actually know what parsnips look like.

One note was written on the back of a book page, and Liss had to take some deep breaths to calm her feelings about the damaged literature.

Sorry about the damaged literature.  I just ran out of parchment. I don’t actually remember what I wanted to say.  I’m sure it will come to me later.

Another note written on a torn book page:

I remembered.  It was that I wanted to say that I feel like I haven’t talked to you in ages.  We’ve both been so busy, I guess. It’s weird to miss someone who lives just down the hall.

A flush climbed to Liss’ face and a smile twitched at the corners of her mouth as she read his words.  Had she not known better, she would have sworn he was interested in her in a way that was more than friendly.  She hadn’t known Alistair very long -- around three months -- but in the time that she had known him, she observed that he was kind to everyone, but not in the same way he was kind to her.  It was slight, and hidden under a lot of other emotions he had, but it was there. Yet, she knew better.  The last time they’d really had time to speak outside of small exchanges in the hall had been the night they drank too much rum in her room and he talked about his past.  Most of the conversation was centered around the Warden-Commander, who he affectionately referred to as “Luce.” Liss figured only he was allowed to call the Hero of Ferelden by that name.  She doubted Alistair even remembered much of that discussion, and he never said it outright, but Liss could tell that he loved her. Even inebriated, his words sang praise of this woman whose absence so clearly wounded him.   She figured it was best to not remind him of their conversation. The poor man would probably be embarrassed.

Rolling up each of his notes, she placed them in the same drawer with her journal, and turned her attention to the final letter on her desk.  It was a large envelope with an official-looking seal. Upon closer examination, Liss realized that the seal was stamped with the shape of griffon, and she turned the envelope over to see to whom it was addressed.  Alistair. It had been delivered to the wrong person. She hopped up immediately and ran out of her room, down the hall and toward the corridor where his room was, letter in hand. She knocked on the door erratically and relentlessly, not stopping until the door swung open to reveal her sleepy-eyed friend.

“Liss,” he mumbled groggily, although he did not seem particularly annoyed.  In fact, he had the beginnings of a smile on his face. “What are you -?” “Can I come in,” she blurted excitedly walking past him before he had time to answer.  He closed the door behind them and turned to face her. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this late night visit?”  He rubbed at his eyes and motioned for her to sit down in the chair at his desk.

She shook her head politely, indicating that she wanted to stand, so Alistair slumped into the chair in her place, raking fingers through his disheveled hair.  “I was going through my mail, and at the very bottom of the stack, there was this letter.” She extended the envelope out to him. “It has your name on it, and a griffon seal.  It must have been delivered to the wrong -.”

Alistair stood abruptly and took the letter out of her hands, shaking nervously as he broke the seal and pulled out a piece of thick parchment.  Liss watched as his eyes flicked across the page. The crease between his eyebrows deepened as he read on, and when he finished reading, he shook his head, crumpled up the letter,  and tossed it to the floor.

“It’s not her handwriting,” he stated tersely, the laugh that followed more bitter than Liss had ever heard from him, “She can’t even write to me herself to tell me that she’s alive.  Is it really so difficult? ‘Dear Alistair, I’m not dead.” No, I don’t think it is.” He threw his hands up. “Maker’s breath.”

“I’m, um,” Liss began, unsure what to say, and feeling incredibly guilty that she woke him up in the middle of the night just to cause him pain, “I’m sorry, I thought… Well. You know.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he assured her, expression and voice softening instantly as he reached out to touch her shoulder, “I thought the same. Thank you for bringing it to me.” His eyes lingered on her for longer than he intended, or at least it seemed that way when he darted them away quickly and took his hand from her shoulder, bringing it up  to scratch the back of his neck.

“I should… go.” She motioned to the door with her head, and began to walk out of the room.

“Wait,” Alistair said, urgently, reaching out and taking her wrist in his hand. Liss turned back to look at him, his features pleading with her.  “I mean.” He let go of her arm. “If you’re not… You know what, nevermind.”

Liss moved forward, taking his hand in hers and smiling as she met his gaze. “Alistair, we’re friends, remember?  If you need company, all you have to do is say so.”

Alistair nodded slowly, eyes sparkling with tears Liss knew were about to fall.  She moved closer to him, wrapping her arms around him in a hesitant embrace. She’d never hugged him before, and he had always tensed and flinched at her touch, so she was prepared for that.  She was not prepared for the giant man to return the embrace so forcefully that it nearly knocked them both over. He buried his face into her shoulder, a few warm tears falling, wet against her skin.  

They stood that way for several long moments, until Alistair released her and offered an embarrassed smile.

“Want to go to our spot in the Gardens?” Liss chirped, hoping to cut the awkwardness out of the moment.

“That would be good,” Alistair said with a nod. “Thank you, Liss.”

[thenugking]

Name: Magdela Ainsley. Usually known as Mags.

Gender/Pronouns: Cis woman, she/her.

Class/Specialisation/Skills: Dual-wielding rogue. Technically a ranger but in actuality she just owns a pet bear. Mags’ main Thing is being good at trap-making.

Race: Human

Nationality/Hometown: Fereldan, from a farm in the northwest of the Hinterlands.

Age/Birthday: Born August 9:06 Dragon, and 23 during Origins

Religion: Grew up Andrastian, without really thinking about it. Still Andrastian, but more aware of other religions now and trying to learn more about the Creators so she can teach her daughter about them.

Sexuality: Bisexual.

Love Interests: Zevran. They get together half way through Origins after an awkward conversation about thinking they’re not good enough for each other, and are married just after Awakening. She’s also had a Celebrity Crush on Anora since she was a teenager, and gets very awkward when she actually meets her.

Family: The family from Kajana’s Human Commoner Origin mod. Parents Torrence and Nansie, older sister Mairi and younger brother Bhradan. Mags is very close to her siblings, who’ve spent a lot of time reassuring her through insecurities and anxiety attacks. During Awakening, Mags and Zevran’s daughter Issella is born.

Friends:  Mags is friends with all of her companions in both Origins and Awakening, except for Sten, whose opinion of her is that she is, impressively, not quite as useless as he first imagined. Other than Zevran and her sister Mairi, Mags’ closest friends are Alistair, Leliana and Oghren.

Enemies: Mags doesn’t really have any personal enemies in Origins (she dislikes Loghain, but he’s more Alistair’s enemy), mostly because she’s worried that maybe she’s wrong about everything, and everyone else is right?? In Awakening, she quickly makes a lot of enemies because a lot of people want to kill or kidnap her daughter. With all the individuals who wanted to hurt Issella either dead or having apologised, Mags’ enemies are now just the Chantry, the Wardens and the Crows as a whole.

Pets: Her bear Moira, and the mabari, who Mags named Calenhad. She’s incredibly proud to have a mabari imprint on her.

Backstory (Out of Universe): I created Mags because I needed to see a hero was like me - someone who’d be pushed into an adventure and then immediately have an anxiety attack. Someone who, sure, might develop a little bit more confidence over the course of their story, but would remain anxious and fairly dependent and very much Not a leader, but who was allowed to be a hero anyway.

Backstory (In Universe): Mags had a fairly mundane life before the Blight, working on her family’s farm and regularly visiting friends in the local village. The most interesting thing that happened was when one of her traps killed a black bear. Mags discovered the bear had a cub, and adopted her due to guilt over killing her mother.

Biography/Game Decisions: Mags generally tried to help people, but also deferred to other people whenever she could. She dealt with Connor by going to the Circle, at Alistair’s suggestion, where she at first agreed to help Greagoir clean the tower of demons, since he said there was no way anyone could have survived. After meeting Wynne and discovering this wasn’t true, she tried to save as many mages as she could. 

When Sten attacked at Haven, Mags didn’t fight back and told him he was welcome to take control if he wanted. Sten declared the party were going to Orzammar, to find the Archdemon in the Deep Roads, but other than Shale, the party refused to follow because they wanted to find the Ashes, liked Mags more than Sten, or just thought the whole idea was silly. Sten and Shale left the party to travel to Orzammar, where they were refused entrance because the king was dead and they didn’t have any Grey Warden treaties.

Shale helped find Sten’s sword while Mags found the Ashes, killing the cultists because destroying the Ashes would be blasphemy. They reunited outside Orzammar, were Shale and Sten rejoined the party. Mags tried to stay neutral to Orzammar’s political issues, but as it became clear that she needed to help choose a king, she sided with Harrowmont, since at least he didn’t want her to do something illegal, and Alistair agreed that he seemed nicer. She sided with Caridin over Branka, because seriously Branka, what the fuck. In the Brecilian Forest, she cured the werewolfs and brokered peace between them and the Dalish, on the advice of her party.

Mags never hardened Alistair, and they were both very happy to let Anora be queen. While Mags wouldn’t have objected to making Loghain a Warden, and wanted him to live for Anora’s sake, she left the decision to Alistair, who killed him.

Mags didn’t want to pressure Alistair to do Morrigan’s ritual, but was also unwilling to let him die fighting the Archdemon, and was able to throw grease traps at his feet if it looked like he was about to make the final blow. Which, since I didn’t want the story to end with Mags’ death, meant that soon after her miraculous survival killing the Archdemon, she discovered she was pregnant.

Between Origins and Awakening, she went back to her parents’ farm with Zevran and wrote to the Wardens asking if they had any advice about having a baby with the soul of an Old God, and whether the darkspawn would be after her kid?? The Wardens responded by sending Orlesian Warden-Constable Palorn Kader to help Mags manage Amaranthine, with orders to get the baby off her, bring it to Weisshaupt for study and kill it if deemed necessary.

With Mags being heavily pregnant, Palorn handled Awakening’s main questline. Meanwhile, Mags held court for the arling and tried to deal with Bann Esmerelle’s conspiracy. Esmerelle was assisted by a Crow named Veni Arainai, sent to Ferelden to kill Zevran, who suggested waiting for the baby to be born, then kidnapping her and holding her hostage to make Zevran and Mags surrender. Eventually, Palorn and Veni both decided that kidnapping babies is maybe bad actually and also their organisations suck, so they apologised and long story short, they all become friends. Mags’ daughter Issella was born a couple of weeks before the Darkspawn attacks on Amaranthine and Vigil’s Keep.

At the end of Awakening, Mags defended the Keep after Palorn and most of the other Wardens left for Amaranthine. They met up in the Dragonbone Wastes and came to a group decision to spare the Architect, provided he stayed away from Mags’ child and made reparations to the Dalish for killing Velanna’s clan.

Worried that it wouldn’t be long before they and their daughter were threatened by other groups of Wardens, Crows or Darkspawn, Mags and Zevran left Ferelden with Issella soon after the end of Awakening, only staying around to get married, and for Mags’ family to meet Issella. Wanting to know about Issella’s abilities and unable to contact Morrigan, they went to the Tellari Swamps to seek out the witch of the wilds rumoured to live there. They were accompanied by Anders and Veni, who wanted to join the running away plan to escape from templars and Crows. 

Mags, Zevran, Issella and Calenhad are currently living in the Tellari Swamp, where Yavanna is teaching Issella magic, and how cool dragons are. Mags and Zevran occasionally leave the Swamps to visit towns outside, and they’re sometimes visited by Veni and several other former Crows, but they so far remain hidden from the many people who might harm Issella.

Personality: Mags’ biggest trait is her insecurity, but as time goes on she becomes more willing to stand up for her beliefs and tries her best to do what she believes is fair and right. As Arlessa of Amaranthine, she puts a lot of effort into protecting farmlands and villages, relating a lot to the difficulties faced by Freemen outside of cities. She also does her best to learn about different cultures and beliefs, beyond the homogeneous Andrastian society she grew up in, particularly after discovering she’s going to have a half-elven child. While she’s socially awkward, she will chatter on endlessly once she’s comfortable with someone. Mags is a proud Fereldan, with a great respect for Ferelden folktails, the Theirin bloodline, and most importantly dogs.

Appearance: Mags is tall, skinny and gangly. She’s covered in freckles.

[kirkwall-on-fire-blog]

In-Character Interview

Rules:

1. Choose a character

2. Answer as them

3. Tag 5 people!

I consider myself tagged by @allisondraste because yes.

I will probably be returning to this later on because, honestly... I have too many OCs and love to talk about them all.

I’ll tag: Uhhhhhh I don’t actually know how tagging works?? (RIP me). An also I feel like I’m so late to this that everyone has done this already, so... I’ll tag whoever wants to be tagged! Because honestly that’s how I ended up doing this so might as well, right? Spread the OC love! <3

Elisse Cousland is up first~!

What is your name?

"Elissora Eleanor Valerie Margaret Cousland! Or, um, Elisse for short. Yes, Elisse will do just fine! Honestly...”

Do you know why you are named that?

"Father had a penchant for overly long and complicated names, I suppose? I do notknow, to be honest. Fergus likes to tease that he, Aedan, and I were all named this way so our first initials spell FAE, but... That cannot be true, right? Right?”

Are you single or taken?

"Umm both? Maybe? I am uncertain. It’s... a tad strange, being in a relationship with a spirit-- Ah, former spirit, sorry Cole! Still, I would not trade him for the world. Whatever the state of our relationship, I am quite content with it.”

Have any abilities or powers?

"I can shoot really well! It’s funny, I picked up a bow after the whole ordeal with Arl Howe because it reminded me of Mother, but after a while I felt... empowered? Yes, that is the word. It feels good to be able to protect yourself for a change, and protect others, too. I will not be a child in need of a rescue again.”

Stop being a Mary Sue!

"Why, I would never! What has Mary done to you, anyhow!? You leave her alone this instant! If you have a bone to pick with me, that is one matter, but I will not have you dragging some poor girl’s name through the mud! Humph!”

What’s your eye color?

"Blue. Mother used to say that mine looked like a calm midsummer lake, while Aedan’s looked like ice. ...Fergus has brown eyes. Teehee.”

How about your hair color?

"Hazel brown, thank you very much! All Couslands are brunettes, though I happen to have the lightest shade of hair between my siblings. Too much time spent in the sun, Mother used to say.”

Have any family members?

"Plenty! Is... what I would like to say, but at this point... It’s just Fergus and me. He’s doing rather well with his new wife, so maybe there will be more little Couslands running around soon? It would be lovely to hear children’s laughter in the old castle.”

How about pets?

"Leo offered to give me Aedan’s old Mabari, Pup, but somehow that doesn’t feel right. He chose her as his new master, you know? I wouldn’t want to break that bond. But she did promise me a puppy as soon as the new litter is born, so hopefully someday soon!”

That’s cool, I guess. Now tell me something you don’t like.

"Tight spaces. Dungeons. Fire... Those things bring back some bad memories. I’m sorry.

Also, Queen Anora. I really, really hate Anora. Humph.”

Do you have any hobbies/activities that you like to do?

"I practice my archery skills quite often. Sometimes Sera and Varric join me, and Mahariel showed me a few neat tricks that one time. Other than that... Pulling pranks with Sera is quite a bit of fun, though it does get us into trouble a lot... I spend much of the remaining time in the infirmary. I may not have magic, but my first aid skills have improved considerably since I joined the Inquisition.”

Have you ever hurt anyone in anyway before?

"I... hope not. I’ve tried my very best to leave no reason for anyone to be upset with me, and yet... I am certain there is someone, somewhere, who was hurt by something I - or the Inquisition - have hurt. Inquisitor Adaar says it’s unavoidable, but still, it’s not a pleasant thought.”

Ever…killed anyone before?

"Yes. Out of necessity only, and never out of selfishness or greed. I will not allow myself to sink to the level of Howe and his men.”

What kind of animal are you?

"A hawk. Aim far, strike fast, spread your wings and fly away from things that hurt you.”

Name your worst habits.

"I, uh, may stick my nose where it does not belong... I just can’t help it! What if someone is hurting and I don’t know about it? What if someone is upset at me!?”

Do you look up to anyone at all?

"Oh, plenty of people, of course. I am still young, still inexperienced, and thus I have much to learn from people greater than me. My parents and my brothers were my greatest source of inspiration growing up - and still are, in many ways. Warden-Commander Amell is another, and so is Inquisitor Adaar, and the Hawke twins, and Lady Vivienne, and Dorian, and... Oh, but I’m rambling, am I not. Sorry.”

Are you straight, gay, or bisexual?

"Neither. I am proudly asexual, thank you very much. After everything that happened to me in Howe’s dungeon... I think I would prefer to relationships of the mind and soul, and not the body.”

Did you attend school?

"When I was a girl, I was taught by Aldous, the old historian in my parents’ employ. After the Blight, Cousland sent me on an exchange program to a girls’ school in Orlais. The education was... decent, but the company rather horrid. They thought me strange when I refused to wear a mask and went out to practice my archery! Hmph! Stuck-up aristocrats!”

Ever want to marry and have kids some day?

"That’s... I know it’s expected, me being a noble and all, and if Fergus cannot produce an heir then it will be up to me to fill that role, but... I would rather not. Have kids, that is. At least not at this time. There is too much turmoil in the world, and I would not want my children to suffer the way my brothers and I did simply because the world is not a kind place. As for marriage... Maybe, someday. I admit, the thought of walking down the aisle in a while gown does make my stomach fill with butterflies...”

Do you have any fangirls/fanboys?

"Do supporters of the Inquisition count? I know those are not strictly mine - if anything, they cheer most for Inquisitor Adaar and Felandris - but still. I have received several offers of marriage recently, but those hardly count, no?”

What are you most afraid of?

"Sometimes I think that this is all a dream. That one day I will open my eyes and I’m a little girl again, alone in Howe’s dungeon. Except this time, Leo doesn’t come barging in through the door to rescue me, and my brother doesn’t kill the Archdemon, and I will just die in that dungeon, without anyone ever knowing where I am or what became of me...”

What do you usually wear?

"If there is anything good about Orlais, it’s their scout uniform. It’s so sleek and yet so practical!”

What is one food that tempts you?

"I would die for just one more taste of Nan’s home-cooked pig roast. No one makes it quite like she used to.”

Am I annoying you?

“No, of course not! What would make you think such a thing?”

Well it’s still not over!

"I’m ready and willing to answer all your questions!”

What class are you (low/middle/high)?

"Technically, the second highest after the King and Queen. The Cousland family is quite renowned, and quite close to the Crown, after all. Especially after all Aedan did to save Ferelden from the Blight. We live in a castle, we have servants - all the typical assets of a noble family.

“But as for myself, I would like to think I can live a middle-class lifestyle quite well. I don’t much care for the fanfare and ceremony of the upper class. Especially the Orlesian upper class. Ugh.”

How many friends do you have?

"Good question... Does the entire Inquisition count? They are all such good people, and they have been so kind to me this entire while... And of course there’s Leo, and Alistair-- er, King Alistair, and all of Leo’s Warden recruits, and... even Teyrn Loghain, I suppose. Okay, I know he supported Howe and what he did to my family, but still... He died a hero. And that’s what counts. Aedan believed in him, I think, so I will too.”

What are your thoughts on pie?

"Mmm, pie... Oh, dear me, I didn’t mean to drool!”

Favorite drink?

“Lemonade! It’s so refreshing in the scorching heat of summer.”

What’s your favorite place?

"Back in the day, there was this tree in the back of Highever Castle. The branches up high were bent in a weird way, almost like shelves. I used to climb up there and watch the servants scurry around trying to find me for hours. Aedan was the only other person who knew about how I hid up there, and he used to sneak me snacks and random things to play with. It was almost a second room to me.

“Nowadays, I like to sit on the roof of Haven. Watching the Inquisition members from up there is just as entertaining. Aedan is gone, of course, but... Sera and Cole bring me snacks now.”

Are you interested in anyone?

"W-Well, I...! Maybe...? It’s... quite complicated, but... A-Ahem, might we change the topic, please?”

That was a stupid question…

"Aww, don’t feel bad! It was a cute question! i’m just... not good with being caught off-guard, you know?”

Would you rather swim in the lake or an ocean?

"A lake. I’ve done so quite a few times when visiting Redcliffe, too! The ocean, on the other hand, looks quite terrifying, and far too deep for me to ever hope to find a foothold. What if it carries me off? I am quite fit, but not to the point of being able to swim for days!”

What’s your type?

"The slim kind with feathers at the tip to silence its movement through the air! You look confused. We are talking about types of arrow, aren’t we?”

Any fetishes?

"Nope. End of topic.”

Camping or outdoors?

"What fun! I can run around outside for hours! Or, at least, until I trip over something, or a branch whacks me in the face... But I do love to camp.”

[shannaraisles]

The Rose In The Crown - Chapter 1

Summerday is always a day of joy, a day of marriages made and love affirmed. And for Ferelden, this Summerday is one to be remembered. King Alistair, ten years a king with no heir in sight, will finally marry his chosen bride.

Sequel to A Rose By Any Name.

Featuring the winners of my giveaway! Chapter one introduces @puddle--wonderful‘s character, Marguerite Dujardin!

[Read on AO3]

Chapter One

Spring had come to Ferelden at last, bringing with it warm sun and the promise of a long summer to follow.

Even the weather seemed to be celebrating with the people as they paused in their daily work for just a few days. Villages and towns across the country raised flags, festooning their streets with bright bunting, preparing to celebrate not only the many weddings due to take place on Summerday, but also the greatest wedding of their time - the marriage of their own King Alistair to Princess Felicita of Antiva. Though many of them had never even seen their king, they wished him well and happy in his marriage, looking forward to the day when he announced a new prince to celebrate over in the fullness of time. They could not help but imagine how very excited he must be, to be so close to the fulfillment of his own happiness after so many years alone. They might even have known about it ... if the palace staff could find him from one hour to the next.

As the date of the wedding drew nearer, it was becoming harder and harder to locate the king outside the hours he spent working. Worse, when he disappeared, he took his betrothed with him, as well as little Lady Maria, his new ward. With the palace in a state of barely contained chaos, anticipating the arrival of their most important guests for the celebration to take place in just two days' time, no one was admitting to seeing the king and his small family since breakfast. Or perhaps the staff were in on it, keeping the bride and groom from added stresses in the run up to the big day.

Because at least one person knew exactly where the king was as lords and ladies panicked about his absence ... the kennel master.

The kennels had welcomed their own newcomers just a few weeks ago - the king's own mabari, Lady, had given birth to five strong pups, sired by the Warden-Commander's hound, Monster, almost as soon as he had arrived in Denerim with his mistress to oversee the Month of Ladies, as it was now known - the Great Bride Hunt that had made this wedding possible. While Fergus, Teagan, and Anora were apparently unaware of it, this was where Alistair could be found when he disappeared from their reach in past days, and this was where he was now, lying in the warm hay with his head on his princess' lap, having his face licked with more enthusiasm than care by two boisterous mabari pups. Maria was sat cross-legged not so very far away, giggling as she played with the remaining three, and Lady, proud new mother that she was, had taken up station beside Fabs, her muzzle resting affectionately on the princess' shoulder. It was a playful, restful scene, especially for two people who had every reason to be particularly nervy about today's expected guests.

"Oh, so this is where you're hiding."

Fabs raised her eyes from her silent adoration of Alistair's relaxed face at the sound of a familiar voice they had not expected to hear today, glancing back down to see her beloved's lips part in a happy grin at the sight of Demelza Tabris leaning against the stall door. One of the puppies took the opportunity to lick inside his mouth, setting the king to spluttering along to the piercing giggles from Maria as she rocked on the floor.

"Serves you right for kissing someone you're not marrying in a couple of days," was Dem's mild response to this sight, though her grin brightened as she nodded to Fabs. "Princess."

"You know my name, Warden-Commander," Fabs objected with a warm smile. "I do wish you would use it."

"Interesting point of view, that," the elven Warden pointed out with a teasing arch of her brow. "You don't use mine."

Fabs' eyes narrowed above her own smile. "Well then, Demelza," she countered, rising to the bait. "What was my name again?"

Dem laughed, shifting from her lean to climb over the half door and into the stall with them. "All right, Felicita," she responded, "but I prefer Dem."

"Duly noted."

Fabs chuckled, raising her hand to pet the furry head on her shoulder as Lady huffed her own greeting to her master's best friend. Dem's hand joined hers for a brief moment, just long enough to say hello to the mabari queen before Alistair claimed her attention.

"I thought you were on your way to Tevinter and beyond?" he asked, pushing himself to sit up with a handful of pup.

Dem grinned at her friend. "Would you like me to go?"

"No!" Alistair's rush to insist that she stay was forestalled only by the laughter that erupted from his elven friend in answer, making him roll his eyes. "You know what? Yes. Go away if you're just going to tease me."

"My, my, aren't we testy today?"

Alistair sighed at the look on Demelza's face. "I know, I'm sorry," he apologized easily. "I'm not ... I didn't mean to be rude."

"We are both a little on edge," Fabs said, rescuing him from having to explain. "My parents are expected today."

"Oh, I see. Meet the parents." Dem nodded to herself, though her grin didn't fade. "You do have other guests arriving too, you know."

"Well, obviously, but I've met the Inquisitor," Alistair pointed out. "And Leliana doesn't frighten me anymore."

"She's here," Dem told him, and snorted with laughter at the sudden lurch this presented from her friend. "Oh, calm down. She stopped in the Chantry to have a few words with the Grand Cleric before she has to come and be all official at you."

"The Divine is here already?" Fabs asked, her eyes wide.

For a moment, it seemed surprising that the princess should be so startled by the prospect of meeting Divine Victoria. But Divine Victoria was also Sister Leliana, the Nightingale, the Left Hand of Divine Justinia. Fabs was expecting to meet a shadow from the past Divine's lifetime, a bard whose exploits in Orlais were close to legend, and more than that, a very old friend of the man who would soon be her husband. Leliana was much more the the Divine for the princess of Antiva - she was a legend, an icon, and more than a little intimidating.

Alistair was already aware of her nerves when it came to meeting such an illustrious person, for his response to her unnerved query was to reach over and claim her hand in his own, raising her knuckles to his lips for a softly reassuring kiss.

"I promise you, love, she is not so terrifying as your imagination paints her," he said in his warm way. "She is probably more excited about our getting married than we are!"

Fabs relaxed visibly as Alistair offered up his reassurance, but there was no denying she was more than a little starstruck about meeting Divine Victoria, the legend in her own lifetime. Still, she smiled at her betrothed's gentle kiss to her hand, leaning toward him unconsciously as Dem smirked to herself.

"Well, you can't hide here all day," the elven Warden pointed out. "Leliana stopped off in Skyhold on her way here - the Inquisitor and his party are just being settled, but they'll be expecting a welcome pretty soon."

Fabs perked up at this news; she had been looking forward to the Inquisition party arriving for several days now. "Did he bring Josephine with him?" she asked, hopeful that this old friend would be one of the representatives included in the invitation to the wedding.

Dem shrugged. "How would I know? I don't do all that diplomacy stuff."

"No, you just laugh behind my back while I get it wrong," Alistair pointed out with a grin, scooping the puppies off his lap as he pushed himself to stand. He offered his princess a hand. "Let's go and get the official business over with. I know you're dying to gossip about Antivan underwear or whatever with your friend."

Maria looked up a little mournfully from her own doggie companions as Fabs rose with Alistair's help, her hands lingering in his. There was no disguising her smile as he took the opportunity to steal a kiss before Maria's voice drew their attention away from one another.

"Do I have to go, too?" the little girl asked, her expression making it perfectly plain that she hoped she would not have to leave the kennel for a good long while yet.

Fabs glanced at Alistair with a fond smile, reaching down to gently tweak the Rivaini child's chin affectionately. The past two months had brought the little girl ever closer to her heart; she could not now imagine life here in Ferelden without the child who would be her own adopted ward in just two days' time.

"No, little one, you do not have to come with us right now," she promised. "But later, you will have to be a little lady for the Divine and the Inquisitor, and my parents, too."

Maria bit her lip worriedly. "Will they like me?"

Alistair chuckled, bending double to bounce the tip of his nose against hers. "If they don't, I'll challenge them to a duel," he told her in a comical tone. "Me against all four of them, what do you think?"

The little girl grinned back at him. "I think you will be all bloody and bruised for your wedding day, Your Alistairness," she responded in a cheerful tone, utterly bemused when Dem burst out laughing at the open declaration of Alistair's new epithet from his adopted ward.

"I think you're right," Alistair agreed, ignoring his friend for a moment. "Will you do us the honor of joining us for the midday meal, Lady Maria?"

"Can I bring my puppy?"

Fabs interjected at this point - she was already caught between Alistair and some of his nobles when it came to appropriate behavior; she was determined to make sure Maria didn't join in with his occasionally silly ideas.

"No, little one, they are too small to be away from their mama right now," she reminded the little girl fondly. "In another month, they will be big enough. And perhaps one of them will have imprinted on you. Wouldn't that be lovely?"

"Will it be my best friend for always if it does?" Maria asked hopefully.

"Oh, absolutely," Dem agreed with enthusiasm. "You've seen me and Monster. And I didn't meet him until I was sixteen!"

Cheered by this thought, Maria was quite content to let them all leave the stall and the kennels, absorbed in the antics of the five pups as they swarmed around her in the wake of the adults' leave-taking. Fabs couldn't help but be glad that the little girl was so easily contented with her four-legged friends; they would provide a good sanctuary for her over the next few days, while the adults were engaged with important guests and the whole ... wedding thing. As a working king, Alistair could not take more than a few days away from his duties to celebrate his own marriage, but for those few days, they were going to leave Denerim and stay in a villa on the coast, overlooking the sea. Maria would be staying in the capital, under the care of Fergus Cousland officially, but more likely in the company of Ceri and Ciara, both women she trusted without question. After all, when Alistair and Fabs returned, it would be as her married pseudo-parents. That was worth a few days without them.

Fabs still couldn't quite believe it - that in just two days' time, she would be Alistair's wife, Ferelden's queen, her own mother's equal in rank and her superior in responsibility. It was ... overwhelming, in a way. She had come to Ferelden at her father's instigation, unaware that her invitation was to a contest for the hand of the king. She had been determined not to engage in that contest yet, as she grew to know the man behind the crown, her heart had changed her mind. She had almost destroyed her chance by giving into doubt, only to have him chase her through the streets just to make sure she didn't leave. And now, two months later, she was within days of accepting the prize - not the crown, though she knew some of the other ladies had wished for it, but the man. Her man, her Alistair, who needed her love more than he could say ... who loved her in his own turn with a sweet devotion she knew she would never feel worthy of.

She knew she was lucky in the approval of his friends, too - that Demelza and Fergus seemed to like her and approve of her influence over him; that Arl Teagan was not automatically set against her. Luck had also been with her in the settling of her own new friendships - of Ciara and Ceridwyn and Anora, who had all been close by her whenever she had needed them these past two months. Indeed, Ciara had happily accepted an invitation to be the queen's first lady, and Anora slid easily into the role of mentor and teacher, and trusted confidante, cementing the friendship that had begun with little more than curiosity. She was not as alone here as her mother had feared she might be. In just a few hours, she would be able to reassure her parents in person that they had no need to fear for her future.

But for now, there were other important guests to greet - Inquisitor Doshiel Lavellan and Ambassador Josephine Montilyet, to be precise. Though Divine Victoria would likely join them within the hour, Fabs could turn her nerves to one side and focus on the others. She had not seen Josephine for years, not since the woman had been sent to Orlais as the official ambassador from the Antivan court, but correspondence had never ceased between them, even during the widespread conflict that had brought the Inquisitor to prominence within Thedas politics. Of course, Fabs had other friends in the Inquisition, too - friends whom she had never met but had shared letters with for years, friends who had imparted hints that Josephine was a good deal closer to the Inquisitor than she herself had intimated. Fabs had to admit, she was looking forward to seeing this for herself.

And there they were, waiting in the private royal audience chamber with Anora and Teagan, making small talk together with one another. Fabs couldn't help a curious look at this fifth member of the party. The woman looked familiar, though she was sure they had never met. But there was something in the dark curl of her hair, the dusk-dark warmth of her skin, the bold, hopeful smile she sent toward the Antivan princess ... yes, she was familiar, yet Fabs could not place her.

"Your majesty, your highness," Anora was saying as they entered, Alistair belatedly releasing Fabs' hand with as much obvious reluctance as she felt. "May I present Inquisitor Lavellan, and Ambassador Montilyet."

"We've met," Alistair reminded her without rancor, offering his open hand to Doshiel Lavellan as a warm smile crossed his face. "Inquisitor, it is a pleasure to see you again. May I introduce you to my betrothed, Princess Felicita of Antiva?"

Fabs felt her mouth snap shut with an audible thunk. Doshiel Lavellan was tall for an elf, equaling her in height, built broad across the shoulders, strong with muscle honed for wielding his weapon of choice. The vallaslin markings on his face were a rich purple in color, though their meaning was lost on her, almost blending into the twilight-dusk of his weathered skin until they caught the light. He turned to her, bowing low, and she had to force herself not to look at his left hand - the hand where the mark of Andraste still dwelt, so they said.

"Your highness," he said, his lilting tone strangely soothing from the impassive face he presented. "Thank you for inviting us to your wedding."

"After all you have done for Thedas, for Ferelden, Inquisitor, it should be no surprise that you were invited," the princess answered, aware that Alistair was grinning at her wide-eyed hero-worship. "Were it not for you, we would not have this peace to enjoy together. You are very welcome."

Doshiel nodded to her, a half-smile illuminating his face briefly before his companion stepped forward.

"Am I welcome also, princesa?" Josephine asked, her tone teasingly arch, and Fabs felt her awkwardness melt away.

She surged forward to embrace an old friend, laughing as Josephine hesitated at the impropriety before returning that embrace with a warmth she had missed since they had last seen one another.

"It has been so long, Josie," Fab enthused softly, drawing back with a bright smile. "It is so good to see you."

"And I, you," Josephine responded, her eyes crinkling in affectionate amusement. "The little trouble-maker of the Antivan palace has grown into her potential, I see."

"Trouble-maker?" Alistair asked, curiosity firing in his voice and gaze.

"I did not make so much trouble," Fabs began to defend herself, but Josephine laughed, cutting her off.

"You released four feral kittens into the kitchens on your sister's wedding day," the ambassador reminded her in amusement, turning to add for the king's enjoyment, "Fur everywhere. In the dessert that was served, as well."

Alistair's grin deepened as he considered his bride. "I have to admit, this is a side of her I have not heard much about," he said merrily. "I think you and I shall have a great deal to talk about, ambassador."

"I look forward to it, your majesty," Josephine answered with smooth aplomb, turning to draw her other companion forward. "May I introduce my assistant, Lady Marguerite Dujardin? She - "

"Marguerite!"

As the name dropped, Fabs knew who this woman was. No, they had never met, but they had been friends for years, communicating by letter with increasing intimacy as they grew older and drew away from the friends insisted upon by family and duty. She had never thought she would actually meet the Orlesian beauty she had befriended from miles away, yet here she was. And Fabs being who she was, there was only one way to greet such a wonderful surprise.

Marguerite was already laughing as the princess launched herself across the room to throw her arms about her, the two women swaying as they embraced one another tight.

"It is such a pleasure to finally meet you, princess," she began, but Fabs shook her head.

"No, my dearest friend, you must use my name," she insisted. "I am Felicita, or Fabs, and you are Marguerite. And I am so delighted to finally meet you!"

She surged close again for another warm embrace, no doubt thoroughly bemusing the others in the room. Over her shoulder, she heard Josephine laugh a little helplessly.

"I see you already know each other," the ambassador was saying as she turned back to Alistair.

Detaching herself from Marguerite, though only briefly, Fab turned to the others with a warm smile.

"Forgive my enthusiasm," she apologized. "Marguerite has been a good friend of mine for many years, though we have never met in person. It is such a wonderful surprise to have her here!"

Beside her, Marguerite dropped a belated curtsy to the king, apparently as amused by the princess' greeting as everyone else. Alistair's smile relaxed as he inclined his head to the Orlesian woman.

"Any friend of Fabs' will always be a welcome sight in Denerim, Lady Marguerite," he assured her. He glanced at Fabs herself, catching her eye with a knowing glint in his own. "I am sure you have much to talk about. Please, don't mind us."

With a last nod to his betrothed, he turned back to the Inquisitor and Josephine, Dem at his side, and Fabs took the opportunity to draw Marguerite over to the window, clinging to her hands in delight.

"How is it that I did not know you were coming?" she demanded merrily. "I would have asked you to be a part of the wedding party, had I known!"

Marguerite's dark eyes were dancing with mischievous delight of her own as she answered. "I did not know until a day before our party left Skyhold," she told her friend. "Josephine's other close assistant volunteered to remain behind and keep on top of the Inquisition's political struggles in her absence, I think purely because Commander Rutherford also remains at Skyhold."

"Oh, you are talking of the woman out of place, yes?" Her interest piqued, Fabs moved to make herself comfortable on the window seat, drawing Marguerite to sit with her. "Has the commander asked her yet, do you know? And has the Inquisitor asked Josephine yet? There are so many questions left unanswered since the last letter I received from you!"

Marguerite laughed gently, patting her hand. "I do not know everything that happens in Skyhold, your- ... Felicita," she said, correcting her address almost before she had begun it. "But no, I do not believe either question has been asked yet."

"And what of your own knight-captain?" Fabs pressed, eager for gossip face-to-face rather than in written form. "Do you hope for such a question yourself?"

Marguerite's dusky skin flushed prettily as she glanced to the window for a moment. "Perhaps," was all she would say. "Now that the world is calmer and I am no longer required to be patriotic to my homeland, perhaps I am thinking of calling another land home."

Fabs actually squealed, reduced to the status of an over-excited child at this exhilarating news. "But why did I not know you were coming?"

"I thought to surprise you, princess," was Marguerite's answer, trimmed with a soft huff of laughter at the mildly affronted look she received in reply. "I am so pleased to be here, and to see you so happy in yourself. You have been searching for a long time. I am very glad that you have found purpose in life and in love. You have been alone for too long."

Without quite realizing it, Fabs' gaze slipped to where Alistair was seated with the rest of the party, her own smile softening at the sight of his animation in conversation. Marguerite's squeeze of her hand brought her back to her companion, only to find a sly, knowing smile quirking at her friend's lips.

"You love him very much," the Orlesian beauty said quietly. "And he adores you. It is plain to see within moments. Even if I had not had your accounts of these past months to forewarn me, I should have seen it. I am not at all surprised that the people are so very pleased that you will be their queen."

At this, Fabs felt the little knot in her stomach tighten, her smile fading just a little. "I am afraid, Marguerite," she admitted in a low voice. "I never dreamed that love and marriage would make me a queen, yet here I am. I do not know what to expect of the role, what they expect of me. I am so very afraid I will let them down."

"You will not let them down," Marguerite responded near instantly, leaning closer to keep their conversation from reaching any other ears. "They will not expect you to know from the beginning exactly what to do and how to do it. They know you are trading life as a princess in a state that has little use for its monarchy for life as a queen in a land where royalty works every day for the good of the people. And they also know that alliance with Antiva through you affords their land additional safety, even without the friendships you have made over the years. The simple fact of your being is enough for them, and will remain so even as you transition into the role you have accepted by loving the king."

"You seem so very confident of that," Fabs murmured, uncertain if she should share that confidence. When she allowed herself to think on what her life would be in just two days' time, she felt overwhelmed.

Maguerite squeezed her hands once again. "I have moved in noble circles all my life, Felicita," she reminded the princess. "I have seen what it takes to truly be a ruler. You have it in you to be a great queen. And you will not be alone. You have your Alistair, and the friends you have made here. Ferelden will not suffer under your rule, I am certain of it."

Fabs felt the smile rising before it showed on her face, too excited to be a wife to allow fears of being a queen to overwhelm her happiness. "I do have Alistair," she agreed. "I do not know quite how or why he loves me, but he does. If a wife's duty is to support her husband, then I will do so with a light heart, because I love him so dearly."

"I should think you would do it even if it wasn't a wife's duty," Marguerite commented in a wry tone. "I have never known you to shrink from any opportunity to help anyone, especially if you love them."

It was Fabs' turn to laugh at this. "Ah, but you did not know me when I was a selfish, spoiled little girl," she pointed out, the glint of her own eyes as teasing as it was charming.

"True, but we were all selfish, spoiled little girls once," was Marguerite's wise response.

"Indeed."

This new voice startled Fabs into looking up, surprised to find a red-haired woman in a simple Chantry robe suddenly standing nearby. The woman was smiling at them both - a little guarded, perhaps, but smiling, nonetheless. She was a stranger to the princess, however.

"Leliana!" Alistair burst out, rising to his feet with a truly happy smile on his face. "How did you get in without being announced?"

Divine Victoria - for that was who this redheaded woman was, it seemed - laughed a rich, delicate laugh as she turned to greet her old friend, the king, clasping his arm and pulling him into a rough hug.

"Do you really wish to know the answer to that, Alistair?" she asked in a light tone. "I was not always as I am."

"Still crazy?" he asked in turn, accepting the light thump of her fist to his arm with a low chuckle.

"Still listening to the Maker," was her reply.

Others in the room were rising to greet her - to greet a woman who was known to them all in some way. Fabs rose with them, but hung back, her gaze following the legend that was Leliana, Divine Victoria, Sister Nightingale, as she greeted her friends from the Inquisition, acquaintances from the past, and ... She almost gasped when Divine Victoria clasped both hands to Demelza Tabris' face and kissed her tenderly, suppressing the sound before it could be heard as the memory flashed of the loving relationship the two women shared. A relationship that was still extant, it seemed, despite the rise in the bard's status. When the Divine turned to her, Fabs felt her knees automatically bend, the curtsy coming from the deepest ingrained instincts that had been trained into her from birth.

"So this must be Princess Felicita," Leliana said, looking her over with an appraising expression in her eyes. "Do stand up, dear. There is no need to stare at my shoes today - they are nothing special."

Hesitantly, Fab raised her eyes, slow to rise from her curtsy as she glanced toward the others in the room. Dem was grinning behind her hand; encouraging smiles abounded from every person around them who considered Leliana a friend. Even Alistair gestured for her to speak freely, despite knowing that his betrothed was more than a little starstruck when it came to this Divine.

"Most Holy, I -"

"Oh, there is no need to call me that." Leliana waved a hand dismissively. "In private, princess, here among friends, I am still Leliana." She tilted her head back to meet Fabs' astonished eyes. "And I will be very pleased to call you my friend. Alistair has needed someone to hold his hand since before I met him."

"I can function on my own, you know," Alistair objected in amusement, opening his hand automatically as Leliana nudged Fabs back to his side.

"Nonsense, Alistair, you will always be a clumsy little puppy to me," the redhead teased him cheerfully.

Dem snorted with laughter, rolling her eyes. "Believe it or not, princess, this is actually an improvement in their relationship."

"In that case, I am not entirely sure I wish to know what their relationship was before," Fabs managed, pressing herself into Alistair's side as her fingers tangled with his. She was surrounded by heroes and legends. If the Champion of Kirkwall walked in now, she thought she might possibly have to go and hide under the nearest bed.

Alistair laughed, tilting his head to touch his temple to hers. "I wasn't the most ... discerning ... of people when we first met," he told her. "I may or may not have decided she was crazy right from the start."

"And maintained it for a decade," Leliana added, her fond amusement plain. "Oh, it is so good to be back among friends. Inquisitor ... Josie!"

As the redheaded Divine rushed to embrace Josephine, drawing the attention of the room with her, Alistair raised Fabs' hand to his lips, brushing a tender kiss to her thumb as he sought her slightly wild-eyed gaze.

"There now, you see?" he murmured to her. "She's not that intimidating, is she?"

Fabs couldn't help the small laugh that escaped her.

"Says the man who traveled with her for months long before she became the legend she is now," she countered, grateful for the way he stayed with her, rather than follow his friends back to their seats. "You have powerful friends in interesting places, mi amor. You cannot blame me for admiring them as I do. Their stories have shaped our world."

"I suppose you're right," he conceded, albeit begrudgingly. "You still like me best, though, don't you?"

"Alistair ..." Laughing, she turned to him, reaching up to trace her fingertips along his cheek. "You need a shave."

He sighed. "I always need a shave." His own hand covered hers, pressing her palm to his cheek. "Still like me best?"

"I am marrying you in two days," she reminded him, her voice soft with affection as she leaned close to brush the tip of her nose to his. "I love you, silly man."

"I will never grow tired of hearing that," was his reply, a grin hiding the waver of his certainty as he closed the distance to kiss her tenderly. "Two days, my fabulous Fabs."

"Two days," she agreed, adding out of pure mischief, "And my parents."

His groan made her laugh as they turned back to their current guests. Though, yes, her parents were arriving in just a few hours, and more guests would also be making themselves known right up until the evening meal tomorrow, this short time could be set aside for old friends that were as close as family. And that was a good thing, Fabs knew. Her soon-to-be husband had no family he could call upon, yet the world was littered with friends who would drop everything to aid him if he chose to call on them. That was a family worth the having, she knew, a family she was proud and privileged to be allowed to join in some small way.

Two days was too long and too short a time to wait, yet when those two days were over ... her Alistair would never be alone again.