#leliana is kind and understanding and most of all willing to listen and talk- so surana falls for her

[drasticdoodling]

see i am very attached to my tabris but surana mayy be becoming my primary warden bc her post origins/awakening dynamic with leliana is intriguing to me. bc she’s a anti-chantry blood mage while leliana becomes one of the hands of the divine

[heartslogos]

newfragile yellows [630]

Ellana sits on a rickety three legged stool, the lines of her shoulders tense and the dexterity of her fingers as she combs through her thick waves of hair on full display.

Bull watches her from the bed that they will share because she’s too stubborn to let him argue with her about it, and because Bull doesn’t know how to argue with her about it.

Her voice holds a near electric quality to it when she talks to him, and he doesn’t know how to address that, either.

From here Lanval could be a regular bird. A regular dumb bird, dumber than Leliana’s most addled crows. From here the raven is just a raven, that happens to be someone’s pet, and the creature is laying on its back, rocking itself back and forth like Ellana’s legs are its personal bassinet.

“You have no idea how uncanny it is to be in a building that doesn’t talk back at you,” Ellana says, not looking at him or Lanval or her hands or anything at all. “I was getting cross with the stairs because they were quite narrow and steep and I thought they were ignoring me and being that dim and foreboding on purpose. And then I got to the top and Evelyn was giving me that funny look and I remembered that normally buildings don’t give people an attitude.”

“Normally you don’t give me attitude,” Bull says softly. “Ellana.”

Ellana’s fingers don’t still as she rakes them through her dark her, but one of them leaves the dark waterfall to rummage around in her bag, pulling out a fist sized stone. She turns her back fully to him, upsetting Lanval in the process. The familiar lets out an upset croak, wings flapping awkwardly as he tumbles to the floor and hops to the relative safety underneath the equally rickety table against the wall where they’ve set most of their belongings.

The raven’s three eyes blink at Bull balefully, each a different type of star, before winking out all at once.

The thing about mages is that they’re magic. That’s obvious. They can do things that most people could only dream about.

Evelyn can make fires with her mind. Pavus can turn a graveyard into a party. Kaaras can create invisible walls that can hold up against a druffalo’s charge.

But even magic has rules.

Evelyn can’t do what Pavus can. Pavus can’t do what Kaaras can. Kaaras can’t do what Evelyn can.

And none of them can do what Ellana can.

Ellana can do fantastical things. Impossible things. Dangerous things. Ellana’s spent years of her life studying one of the oldest schools of magic, one of the most traditional and dangerous. Ellana can take a berry from a pie and within an hour have a fully grown tree groaning with fruit. She can take a chip of ice and turn it into a fountain. She can pick up a piece of kindling and turn it into an entire forest. She can pick a feather out of a mattress and turn it into a screaming flock. She can weave wool into gold. She can make rocks bleed.

But all of this is a matter of will. The others can do things they can vaguely explain with logic, almost turning their schools into advanced science.

There is no logic to Ellana’s magic other than her will, her drive her determination, and her sheer force of presence.

A berry will become a tree because she wills it to, and it understands. A feather will become a bird because she wants it to and because it was convinced to follow. A rock will sob because she refused it any other recourse.

Not everything will listen. Not everything can be brought to heel.

That’s why her kind of mage makes a safe space, a fortress, a place all their own filled with things that will listen. That know how.

Outside of that place they are at the mercy of the unfamiliar, the stranger. And the rules become infinitely harder.

It becomes less about commanding and more about bartering.

He listens to her whispering to herself as she turns the stone over and over in her hand. He knows that stone. He was there when she got it.

The day they left Bull and Solas sat in the great kitchen of Skyhold.

Ellana sat in the fire of the main fireplace, picking at the back of the great fireplace with her bare hands to convince a single bit of stone from Skyhold’s heart to come with her. The flames licked around her, climbed over her, but they did not burn her. They made her skin red, and she had shucked off everything but her small clothes which were dark with her sweat as she cursed, pleaded, cajoled, and threatened a single corner of stone to come loose.

Bull had offered to help. Ellana refused politely the first time. And then not so politely the second.

Bull had attempted to offer a third time but Solas’ hand shot out across the wide table, impossibly fast and impossible for the breadth of the space between them, to cover his mouth.

“If you offer a third time,” Solas said quietly, “She will be compelled. Do not ask again.”

Bull nodded, the taste of honey fresh on his lips, and the cool slip of cream churning in his stomach.

“Ellana,” Bull calls out again. “We need to talk.”

“You mean like how we talked before you gave Solas the cream and honey from the larder?” Ellana replies, false sweetness. “Before you bound yourself to me forever?”

She still doesn’t look at him.

“Yes,” Bull says. “You’re mad. We need to talk about why you’re mad.”

“You know why I’m mad.”

“And we need to sort it out. I needed to do it to get his permission. It was the only way to release you to get you to come.”

“My freedom to go on a quest in exchange for your life bound in service to mine until the end of days?” Ellana sneers, “I don’t recall asking for that.”

Bull’s hands open and close, useless in a battle of wills and minds. “Look. I’m sorry, alright? I’m sorry you’re stuck with me, and I get that I’m not the kind of person anyone would want to be chained to — “

“You are an idiot,” Ellana turns to face him, face wicked and worrisome. “Ask me why I didn’t want you to complete the trials. Ask me. Right now. Did you realize you never asked me? Ask me, Bull. Ask me.”

Bull draws in a steadying breath as he meets the wild dark of her eyes with only three small candles to light the way.

“Why did you not want me to complete Solas’ trials?”

“Because,” Ellana says, hands still, “Of all the people in the world to be bound to it would be my highest honor to receive your life with mine.”

A crack in her voice like lightning down a rock.

“And I do not deserve you. You do not deserve me. We do not deserve each other and I have nothing to give you.” Ellana’s hands drop to squeeze around the stone. “Because I want you terribly. Awfully. I have done nothing to earn what you’ve given me. What Solas took from you and gave to me.”

Bull’s heart is the silence of lightning. Ellana’s voice is the thunder that follows.

“I want you, do you understand that? I love you,” Ellana’s voice is a vibration he feels in his stomach. His lips are sticky, like honey. like the froth of cream. “I love you and I know you. You, of all people, should never be bound to anything. To anyone. For whatever reason or purpose and the idea that you would do that just for me to go on a stupid quest with my friends brings such shame upon me that I can’t even look at you. I look at you and magic curdles, my words spoil, and my mouth tastes like rot. Your life, your freedom — for what? A go at some dragons, knocking some sense into a couple of demons, biting my thumb at some know-it-all sorcerers?”

Ellana stands up abruptly, and her hair is every shadow in the room, and there are three stars in her hair that glow with a growing intensity.

“I hate it,” Ellana says. “I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate you for it. I hate Solas for it. Above all I hate myself for it, because I wanted it — for a split second when I realized the trials for what they were I wanted it so badly I could feel the magic of a promise closing.”

Bull stands up so abruptly that he feels his horns scrape against the ceiling.

“And what about what I want?” he cuts in, suddenly feeling cold. Like cream. Slow. Like honey. Tired. Like stone. “What about what I want, Ellana?”

That brings Ellana to pause.

“What if I want you?” Bull challenges. “What if I want to be in your life? What if I want you to be in mine? Did you ever consider that maybe I know exactly what I’m getting into and that maybe I don’t give a shit if you own my life? Because I trust you with it anyway?”

And that knocks the wind out of Ellana’s sails right there. The room is light again. The rumble of a storm leaves his bones. The air is breathable. Lanval is a bird that is hesitantly poking its beak out from underneath the table.

Ellana stares at him, like she doesn’t recognize him at all.

Bull stares right back at her.

“Do you mean that?” Ellana whispers, “Are you lying to me?”

“I have never lied to you.”

For a moment Bull thinks she’s about to cry.

And then she rushes him, wind at her feet as she is suddenly at his eye level, her mouth on his for the briefest touch that he half imagines.

“Then I give you my breath,” Ellana whispers against his lips, eyes not leaving his, “My word.”

Something rough presses against his chest and he raises his hand to it and feels a fist sized stone settling in his palm as she closes his fingers over it.

“I give you my power.”

Ellana’s hand cups against his ear as she leans forward, Lanval’s talons and weight suddenly on his other shoulder as his beak grazes the other side.

And she says something. Bull can’t even — he doesn’t know what it is. He doesn’t hear it, he can’t remember it. It’s just something that comes out of her mouth and Lanval’s beak that slides into him, pushes into his brain, his head, his chest, his stomach, heavy and nudging everything aside to make room.

“What was that?” Bull asks, pushing her away as Lanval’s wings beat heavily.

“And lastly, I give you my true name,” Ellana answers, eyes bright with defiance. “Three challenges accepted. Three gifts given. You trust me with your life? Then I the same. As you are bound to me, now I am so bound to you. I may not deserve you, but by god will I do anything I can to keep you.”

[a-gay-bloodmage]

11, 12 & 20 ;)

Wow, okay! I ended up going on and on (and on and on and on…) for these, so I’ve posted ‘em under the cut!

Thank you for the ask!

((From this post!))

11. Top 5 favourite female companions?

5. Velanna: It’s rare that we get to see angry elves. Elves who are sick and tired of humans burning them out of their homes, sick of racism and human policies, and just sick of everything the world’s thrown at their people. Velanna, despite her “abrasive” (or worse, “bitchy”) personality, is, at her core, a wonderful person. Sure, pride was a part of the reason she stood against the humans trying to burn her clan out, but, if anything, it was her overwhelming resilience and defiance that made her take a stand, even if it was against what many considered better judgement. I love angry elves, especially Dalish ones. I think that the Dragon Age series needs more elves that won’t just play to the narrative of “elves were weak and violent against The Righteous Humans so they deserved what happened to them” because they didn’t deserve any of that. Nobody oppressed deserves to be oppressed. Velanna knows that. She’s incredibly talented and strong-willed and it’s wonderful to see. But, almost above that, is the fact that she’s still a young woman, naive to the world outside her clan. And, honestly, I find that adorable. She believes Oghren’s obviously false stories about dwarvern babies, and can’t handle being flirted with. And her ears are adorable. The bigger the ears the better.

4. Sera: Okay, my love for Sera’s a little tougher to describe than Velanna. On one hand, I adore her character. I absolutely love her design, her openness of and love for sexuality, and her chaotic-neutral-with-a-guarded-heart-of-gold personality. I just… hate how she was handled. So, therefore, I have taken Sera as my own. I love her obvious neurodivergence, and how it’s the opposite of all the more widely-loved neurodivergent characters we usually get. She’s loud and unfiltered, she’s impulsive and often reckless, and she gets angry when she’s sad or angry or confused. I think, personally, that her character is a type we should see more, and that, more importantly, we should sympathize with more. Sera, at her core, just wants to help the people that have been spat on by society, the “little guy” at the bottom of the social ladder. She’s fueled by a love of adventure and want to do the good thing. And I really do admire that. I love characters who aren’t afraid to get in trouble for doing what they believe to be right. And her romance is so cute, she’s so obviously smitten by her Tadwinks and it’s downright adorable. And her friendship with a male PC can be just as cute, really. It’s all the fun of the romance without the sexy-bits. And I love how close you can become with her, living life after the Inquisition with someone who likes you for you, not because you’re the supposed prophet of someone. I think that Sera is one of the few characters that genuinely couldn’t care less about where you’re from or what you do, so long as you make an effort to understand her and her feelings, and don’t work against what she works for. Not to mention, she’s got a stupid sense of humor that I just love. Her banter always makes me laugh and I so appreciate everything about it.

3. Merrill: I’ll start this out by saying, unapologetically, that I am completely in favor of blood magic. I love blood magic. I think it’s an unharnessed force of magic that could be used in so many unexplored aspects of magical fields, and that it’s use in healing could revolutionize the art if only people would get over it’s taboo. That being said, I adore Merrill. Not only is she connected to the Dalish Warden, but her connection to them ends up leading her to becoming one of the most intelligent characters in the series. Not only is she a Dalish mage somehow surviving in human civilization (even if she does get lost sometimes…), but she’s working to undo Darkspawn corruption of an ancient elven artifact. That takes not only immense skill, but the upmost patience and dedication to discovering knowledge lost for Creators-know-how-long. And, being completely honest here, Merrill is one of the cutest characters in the series. Her absolute adorable-ness is one of the most prominent in the series. You can’t argue me on this. I’m right. I adore her voice actress, and could listen to her banter for hours upon hours. And her face is just… pure adorable. Those big green eyes just make my heart melt, honestly. Anyway, like with Velanna, I really appreciate having elves that take immense pride in their cultures, and do whatever they can to protect their people. With Velanna, it was standing alone against humans trying to attack her clan. With Merrill, it’s calling upon “forbidden” magic to restore not only parts of her people’s past, but (even if this part was… in vain) to cure the people she loved, Mahariel and Tamlen. There’s so much goodness trapped inside this tiny elf, it’s a miracle she doesn’t burst at the seams.

2. Leliana: Okay, I know I go on and on here at a-gay-bloodmage about how much I hate the Chantry and every single thing that comes out of it, but Leliana is an exception. As much as people like to claim that she’s annoying, that she’s too forward, that she falls in love with the Warden no matter what they do, I can’t help but believe that this is not only wildly exaggerated, but part of why she’s such a good character. First off, the claim that she’s annoying. If anything, her enthusiasm toward saving the world only makes me love her even more. Also, she never forces her beliefs on anyone who tells her they don’t believe in her god. She had a vision, she believes in it, and she wants to help. Whether or not you believe her is up to the player. Her forwardness is just another part of her charm to me, as well. I think that there’s something so wonderful about a woman who is just so in love with all the good things in the world that she can set aside the bad in their favor, that she can look to where people see an absentee god and see a loving, embracing figure. That warmth is so beautiful to me, and I love to shape my thinking after hers, preferring to believe in a good force in the universe instead of fire and brimstone and all the nonsense. And when people complain that she keeps ninja-mancing the Warden? So what? Again, I love that. Sure, it can mess with some relationships in-game, but she accepts a no if you give it to her. I think her love toward the Warden is so sweet and pure, to be honest. She loves the person she’s following out of actual admiration for once, and not out of manipulation, like how she was with Marjolaine. I’m an absolute sucker for characters with love too big for their heart, and Leliana fits the description quite perfectly.

1. Morrigan: Fuck you. I love Morrigan. Okay, that started off a little strong. I just really love her. I not only think she’s breath-takingly gorgeous, but her personality just draws me to her. Of course, if she were an actual person I had to interact with on a daily basis, well, maybe I’d have a different opinion, but we’re talking about video game ladies here, fellas. They can be abrasive and petty and prideful, but eventually, we get to see behind the proverbial curtain. And… God, I can relate to the serious case of mommy issues in this one. I do think that if I weren’t such a passive person, I’d be quite like Morrigan. Pushing people away before they can get too close to see why you’re hurting inside. I find it easier to deflect while she prefers to simply shove and jab and bite until you give up trying. I empathize with her, and I only wish I could’ve done more to convince her that staying with the Warden, romance or not, would’ve been welcome. That she didn’t have to run away, to take on the burden of an (at the moment) unwanted child alone. She’s secretly so caring and kind, but she just doesn’t understand that people can be loving due to the abuse Flemeth put her through. I know she wouldn’t appreciate the physical contact, but I just want her to lie her head in my lap and talk about her feelings. Poor little witch never learned how to express herself in a positive manner… And yet I love her regardless. And when it comes to her role in Inquisition, I hate a bit of a love-hate relationship with it. On one hand, she showed just how much she’s grown to care for Kieran, and it makes my annoyingly-baby-loving-heart just melt into a gushy pile of love. The fact that she refuses to be the mother Flemeth was to her? I cried. (“I am many things, but I will not be the mother you were to me.”). On the other hand, I wish she wasn’t the “expert” on elven lore. I blame bad writing. But one thing Inquisition really got right? Yeah, I’m back on the Kieran relationship again. I just love it so much… Her desire to be a better mother than her mother was to her is one I hold dear as well, and the reason why she’s my favorite female companion in the entire Dragon Age series.

12. Top 5 favourite male companions?

5. Alistair Theirin: First of all, I unashamedly love Fiona and Maric. Just going to put that out there. I love and actually admire Alistair for a lot of his qualities. As someone who went through years upon years of horrible abuse from the people who were supposed to be taking care of him (Fuck you Eamon and double fuck you, Isolde), was sent to a Chantry against his will and forced to become a Templar, and someone who promptly quit the order after seeing what it did to mages, Alistair’s proven himself time and time again to be a resilient and compassionate person. I think that most of my love for him comes from the fact that despite seeing how much bad was in the world, Alistair still worked to be a good person and to create something positive in the world. I personally make him King in most of my worldstates, not because I think it’s where he “belongs” or anything, or because I somehow am delusional enough to think Anora would be a bad ruler, but because he’s shown to have a lot more compassion than any other ruler. He’s sympathetic to the plights of the mages and the elves, despite not (knowingly) having any connection to them. He’s a solid, overall good boy who covers up emotional pain with humor, and I love him one hundred percent.

4. Dorian Pavus: Dorian is one of the characters that I think gets a lot of fandom love for reasons other than my own. He’s beautiful, and charming, and unique, and a wonderful gay man in a video game (an unfortunately rare thing), but I love him because I can relate to him on a deep level. That fear of disappointing those you love because you’re not what they think you could be, that hiding away your issues behind a veneer of “it’s alright” is best because then you’re not a burden and people don’t see how damaged you are. It’s hard for me to open up to people, and Dorian really is just one of those characters I can’t help but love, despite the fact that he reminds me so much of myself. And, another thing I love about him is that he’s not pale. I know that can be seen as a stupid thing to love someone over, but coming from an Italian family, seeing a character from a place modeled after Rome not being pale makes me so happy. I, myself, am pale as hell, but knowing that finally, finally, we’ve got someone from a Southern-European modeled country that doesn’t look Scandinavian makes me so incredibly happy.

3. Thom Rainier: I think that this is going to be a common theme in my explanations, but I love Thom because he’s not perfect. As like with Dorian, Thom hides behind a facade that makes him feel like he’s something better than he believes himself to be. And he’s a character that fucked up in the past, and fucked up badly, and he bleeds for redemption. He suffers and works and suffers even more in order to prove himself to really be the man he’s become. Very rarely do we get treated to a redemption arc that makes characters actively work for their redemption, face the consequences of their actions, and stick to the principles they claimed they’d stick to. He’s self-deprecating, believing himself to be damn near worthless, his only reason for existing being to help others and work to repent for what he did in the past. Believing you’re undeserving of love is a thing I know a little to well, and having a character genuinely believe themselves to be so without being seen as attention-seeking was great, if not a call-out for my self-loathing ass. Thom is a severely underappreciated character in this fandom, and I really wish that wasn’t the case. He’s an older character, but honestly, he’s about the same age as other characters like Cassandra or Varric. Just because he isn’t conventionally attractive doesn’t mean he should be pushed aside for other characters. I love my big bear husband so much.

2. Anders: Oh, Anders. My lovely, beautiful Anders. My bisexual, mentally ill, selfless, revolutionary, darling Anders. I can’t help but love him. Of course, I love him both before and after Justice, but for differing reasons. In Awakening, Anders was simply someone who just wanted to escape, to be free for once in his life, and to enjoy what the world had robbed him of. There’s something heart-wrenching about seeing a character so obviously hurt being cheerful like he was in Awakening, especially when you see more into his backstory in Dragon Age: II. He, much like Alistair, used humor to distract people from his true feelings. He was a hopeful spot amongst some other companions who wore their pain on their sleeves. In Dragon Age: II, Anders became even more of a favorite for me, simply because I could understand a lot of his pain. I, too, am someone who exhausts myself caring for others, putting the needs of others far above myself. Of course, I know I could never even hope to have mental fortitude like him, but seeing someone so intent on tearing down institutions that have ruined so many lives helps me work to do so myself. Besides, I’m an extremely anti-institutionalized religion person despite being decently religious. Seeing someone who believes in the Maker but not the Chantry was refreshing. It was welcome and wonderful. And, as someone who struggles with mental illness (in my case, things along the lines of ADD, chronic stress, anxiety, dysmorphia, etc.) seeing someone who struggles from mental illness (”possession” that covers a whole lot of shit I’m not really one to put labels to) not overcome but co-exist with his mental illness and find love and purpose was really good for me. I don’t believe for a second that Anders was overly controlled by Justice, only pushed to do things he was to scared to do before Justice came along. In every worldstate of mine, Anders is spared and stood behind. His actions are justified and supported. Fuck the Chantry and Fuck Me Anders. (Sorry, I had to)

1. Zevran Arainai: Zevran was the first character in the Dragon Age series I fell in love with, so of course he’s at the top of this list. And my love for him isn’t just because he’s handsome (even if that is quite an attractive reason), but because he’s a good person who both tries to hide/downplay his goodness and does all he can to do what he knows is right. First of all, once again, like with Dorian, I love seeing Mediterranean-coded characters as non-white. Seeing someone come from a Spanish/Italian-coded country not look British is so beautiful. Of course, I would never say someone claiming that he’s Latino is invalid. There’s one hundred percent reason to believe that, and I support their headcanons. But to me, I relish in the fact that someone from a darker-skinned area of Europe is seen as a beautiful character. He was one of the first darker-skinned European characters I’d ever seen, and that certainly guarantees him a place in my heart. Moving on, I also see a lot of myself in him, though that isn’t exactly a good thing for him. Of course, bisexuality is a huge part of both our existences, and words can’t really express how much I love a canonically bisexual man. I couldn’t believe it when I saw it, in all honesty. I thought it was a headcanon until I read that you could romance him as a male PC. So, of course I made my first character and romanced the hell out of him. Though, on a bit of a darker note, I could really sympathize with his reasoning for leaving Antiva. As someone who’s struggled with suicidal thoughts and certainly suicidal idealization (that whole “I wish I could just stop existing” bullshit), having someone not only deal with the problem of depression but actually get better was incredible. The idea that with enough love and compassion and understanding the pain would ease was a wonderful message I really took to heart. In addition to all of this, which is already a whole lot but I just can’t stop talking about him, Zevran is empathetic. He’s compassionate and understanding. He advocates where other companions stay silent. He’s got one of the most in-depth arguments against allying with the Templars, and his anger towards the Warden, while thinly masked as calm, when the mages are slaughtered in compelling and just compassionate. Not many “ordinary” people are willing to fight for those they don’t know or understand. But Zevran does. And when slavers attempt to sell people in the Alienage into slavery, Zevran does his best to convince the Warden to do the right thing, despite owing them a blood debt. He could be putting his life on the line once more if they don’t agree with him, but he does it anyway. And, you know what? Fuck it, he’s beautiful. He’s goddamn gorgeous and I want all 5′2″ of him.

20. Favorite fantheory?

Andraste was a mage. I absolutely adore this theory and I can’t help but throw my entire support behind it. I find no reason else why a somehow ordinary woman would be chosen by the Maker in the Fade (“World fell away then, misty in mem'ry, / ‘Cross Veil and into the valley of dreams / A vision of all worlds, waking and slumb'ring, / Spirit and mortal to me appeared.” -Andraste 1:10, “Long was his silence, ‘fore it was broken. / For you, song-weaver, once more I will try. / To My children venture, carrying wisdom, / If they but listen, I shall return.“ - Andraste 1:14) because she had a wonderful singing voice (magic is often referred to as a song, and this page on the wiki is quite informative) and could somehow make natural disasters occur in her favor to drive out Tevinter (“The air itself rent asunder, / Spilling light unearthly from the / Waters of the Fade, / Opening as an eye to look / Upon the Realm of Opposition / In dire judgment.” -Exaltations 1:2). Magic, in itself, is never said to be evil in the Chant, only that those who takes the Maker’s gift of magic and turn it against one another are evil (“Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him. / Foul and corrupt are they / Who have taken His gift / And turned it against His children.” -Transfigurations 1:2) Personally, canon aside, I believe that if Andraste could see the current state of the Chantry, she would be appalled. Especially the Chantry in Tevinter, seeing as it endorses slavery (“At Shartan’s word, the sky / Grew black with arrows. / At Our Lady’s, ten thousand swords / Rang from their sheaths. / A great hymn rose over Valarian Fields gladly, proclaiming: / Those who had been slaves were now free.” -Shartan 10:1) and prohibits the mages from using their magic to their full potential (Once again, magic exists to serve, not to be enslaved). Sorry if this is a little messy, but Lord Do I Have Opinions.

[pinayelf]

“The things I love most about my OTPs” Tag

I was tagged by @dirthara-mama! Thank you <3

God, I have A LOT. But let me actually do three that I’ve developed with the utmost care.

Amihan/Leliana

Amihan was my VERY FIRST DA OC, and my canon Warden and the OC I’ve poured a lot of my heart and soul into. 

Amihan for most of her early life felt like a throw-away. Her mother called the Templars on her and her father promised to write but never did (there’s more to this though that’s a whole other thing). She saw how vulnerability was used against you in the Circle so in order for no one to have nothing against her, she wasn’t going to be vulnerable. She saw her worth solely on her magical talent and she had a complex of believing she was better than the other apprentices but also thinking she’s been cursed by the Maker and is the worst thing in the world. She was rude and cold, her only friend was Finn.

Leliana was the first person Amihan felt safe being vulnerable too. Amihan is not religious but hearing an Andrastian say that the Maker doesn’t hate her because she’s a mage was weirdly comforting. Leliana was patient and she made it so easy for Amihan to let her guard down. She was the first person to ever show Amihan affection and to someone who grew up the way Amihan did, it was kind of earth-shattering. 

I oftentimes hesitate in writing that it was ~love that got Amihan to step being so self-absorbed, but in a way, it was Leliana. Amihan had nothing to care for and nothing to lose (she and Finn accepted that they may at any time get separated and never see each other again) until Leliana came into the picture. She re-examined her actions and thought twice about how she spoke to people. She learned how to give back.

Amihan also had nobody that fought for her, and when she realized that Leliana will, no question she realized her worth. And when Amihan was willing to kill Marjolaine for Leliana with nothing in return, Leliana also realized her worth. 

I love that despite being away from each other for YEARS they still go on strong. They’re both independent people but they’re each other’s rocks. Their ability to have their relationship adapt with changes that come just proves how strong their bond is and I just love their everlasting love because I think they both deserve it so much.

Jesus this got long hfusdhu

Cullen/Imryll

I’ve talked A LOT about these two so I’ll try to keep it short lol. But what I love the most is that they heal together. It’s not “The other person fixes the other”, but it’s the fact that they’re both in it together while they get better. They’re both a source of comfort and support for each other. After their bad first impression, there’s just something about the other that makes them feel safe. Safe enough to be vulnerable and open. I think it’s because they’re so much alike in certain ways where they’re both drawn to each other’s quiet energies.

They’re drift compatible okay.

I also love how they help the other become better. Cullen wants to protect Imryll but he knows he can’t always be there to help her fight her battles - so he helps her train so she can protect herself. Imryll helps Cullen see things in a new light, and he appreciates that she doesn’t coddle him when he slips. 

And the last thing is that yes, while I am aware it’s much more than that, the two of them give so much fairytale vibes. It’s that cute, sugary kind of feel-good romance and it makes me really happy. They’re both ridiculously soft and gross with each other and sometimes you need that. 

Sera/Isadore

I’m a bit embarrassed because Isadore is a self-insert but whatever #yolo lmao.

The word I think of when I think of these two is “acceptance”. And for me especially there’s A LOT of comfort in that. I have a lot of fave romances but this one feels really weirdly personal (mayhaps because Isadore is a self-insert) and it makes me giddy in a different way. I can’t explain it, but it’s such a good kind of giddy.

It makes me emotional that these two women, both in a way, pariahs to society, found each other and found love there. A Darktown apostate and a rogue elf. Who would’ve thought. And you know what? They don’t care about what anyone else is saying. They don’t care if people stare or think they’re ridiculous and trashy. Because they know that all those people whispering about the dirty peasant girl and the city elf don’t know how much they love and care about each other.

People have a hard time understanding Sera and I pretty much am on board with her being neurodivergent. Isadore wants to understand and she learns and listens to Sera (which is something people don’t do, because they brush her off). She learns her triggers and ways to calm her down. Sera is afraid of magic, but for Isadore she wants to not be. So she opens herself up a bit and lets herself see good things magic can do - heal, make warmth, help people, and make snow cones. Like Cullen and Imryll, the two of them are pretty drift compatible. By the end they can pretty much know how the other is doing just by giving them looks. They’re in-tune with the other’s needs. They learned to communicate to each other better. 

Also they’re sappy as hell. They hold hands when they’re out on missions and Sera always has her arms wrapped around Isadore or vice versa. They found each other amongst all the taunting and disapproval but none of the other people can take what’s theirs.

[lavalampelfchild]

Oghren and Banter

I swear, if I get one more portrayal of dwarves as nothing more than a punchline, I’m going to have a gasket or blow a cow. 

Listening to the banter conversations between the companions and Oghren is like all the most annoying stereotypes of dwarves coming to the surface.  I love Zevran and Oghren’s dynamic, because they reach each other on a level that is equal, and neither gives the impression that they’re only tolerating or condescending the other, even though they mainly bond through all those dirty jokes.  But Alistair’s entire conversation set with Oghren consists of Oghren spouting dirty jokes over and over, and Alistair responding in a completely uninterested, very dry tone. 

Morrigan’s are not better; she just seems to be trying to find the best ways to say something that’ll sting or drive Oghren away so that she doesn’t have to deal with him, meanwhile his obliviousness to it all seems to be played off as stupid, and he just keeps going, asking her things about sex and whatnot.  Because Oghren’s a drunk, he’s obsessed with sex!

But lo and behold, Leliana tries to get to know him, and talks to him seriously about Branka, and while he quickly deflects the discussion with a CRAZY STNKY FART, HA HA DWARVES ARE GROSS, he does respond to it with what seems to be genuine bitterness, revealing a different side of himself that does seem to be more genuine than the one that goes with the fart jokes. 

Leliana is also the only one whom Oghren actually asks a serious question; he asks her how the heck she stands it with all this open air, with this great open sky, which canonically makes him uncomfortable.  And Leliana doesn’t make fun of him for it, doesn’t give him shit; she gives him an honest answer.  I just think it’s interesting that because Leliana actually treats him with kindness and some respect, he’s more comfortable with straying from that “drunk, perverted, dirty joker” act to ask her serious questions.

And he listens to her story about how the sky came to be!  He listens and he responds seriously, without making fun of it or deflecting to a different topic with a fart joke or a sex pun! 

Here’s the unfortunate part, though: Oghren has four banter convos with Leliana.  Four!  And one of them is his typical use of innuendo and pervy remarks, though it is during the first conversation he has with her, before he gets to know her; meanwhile another one is entirely dependent on giving Leliana an optional gift (Schmooples the nug), and won’t occur if you don’t get her that gift.  Nice, BioWare.

All of the interesting interactions Oghren could have had – Sten on the different cultures of their people, Leliana on the stories of both of their worlds and the respect they can come to develop for one another, Shale about the dwarven culture surrounding golems – were trimmed down to just two or three banter convos, and it sucks.  Meanwhile, I have to listen to five banter convos rehash a version of what Zevran does with Wynne, except with Oghren (pervy flirting as Wynne gets annoyed and repeatedly puts her foot down about how, no, that’s not going to happen), and more of the exact same innuendos and puns with Oghren’s chats with Alistair and Morrigan.  The only other really solid convos Oghren gets are with Zevran, who very often partakes in the terrible jokes with him, establishing a rapport, and not just an “I’m tolerating you because the Warden wants you here, but I will make very obvious my dislike of talking with you” vibe, like literally everyone else, except Leliana.  

Hell, even Shale – who has some very interesting convos with Oghren – very easily falls into the same habit Alistair and Morrigan and Sten and Wynne when talking to Oghren: i.e. a lot of sighing and making disdainful references to how much he drinks and stop making inappropriate sexual references, you perverted dwarf, and oh, Oghren will be stinking up the joint now, better get some nose plugs!  Yes, that one is actually used in a banter convo.

(Though while Shale doesn’t hold back on the insults about Oghren, Oghren does get some zingers in himself; for example, when Shale compares Oghren to a human in its old village who wandered into a snowstorm and died, Oghren says, “I think I had a wife like you once.”  You know you’re doing friendly banter conversation wrong when I’m actively rooting for one of the two participants to get their asses handed to them, and hey, BioWare does that with five characters who chat with Oghren!)

And Shale and Oghren do have some beautiful convos that delve into whether or not the dwarves would use the Anvil of the Void to create more golems had they the opportunity.  And in those convos, Oghren shows an intriguing and impressive level of insight into the minds of his own people, being certain that they would line up to become golems were someone to learn the magic of the Anvil, and knowing that they’d be willing to subject themselves to that pain because of the decline of the dwarven population. 

And when Shale asks Oghren if Oghren believes the Warden to have been wrong to destroy the Anvil (in the event it was destroyed), Oghren says this:

“(Sigh) No.  Sometime people need to be kept from doing stupid things, even for good reasons.”

And then Shale asks if Oghren is referring to Branka with that statement, and Oghren gets defensive and closes up for the first time in all his banter convos.  Because it hurts to think about Branka in this worldstate, the one in which she died, and refused to listen, and called him worthless before showing how willing she was to watch him die after he spent two years throwing away his reputation amongst his fellow dwarves just to find her.  And we get a different side of him in this!  We see hints of the pain he feels when he thinks of his declining race, when he thinks of what happened to his wife; we see his views on golems and why he thinks they’re worse for the dwarven race than better for them.

But of course, Shale and Oghren’s convos fall right back into the same trend that Oghren’s convos with many other companions do because of course fart jokes and sex puns are all Oghren is good for, right?  And it ruins all that beautiful potential.  There is one more moment which looks like some positive development may be had – Shale admits that Oghren is a decent fighter and that there are worse things than fighting at his side – but that never goes anywhere!  The next convo they have is right back to Oghren deflecting with his usual brand of sex jokes, innuendos, and fart jokes, while Shale sighs and jabs about Oghren’s poor hygiene.  Yay. 

And of course, the dog.  Oghren is at first not a big fan of the dog companion, but he seems to change his tune a little more, and isn’t it goddamn interesting how he has more development in two conversations, and with the dog, than he does in five conversations with other fellow people.  Isn’t it interesting how the dog is the one with whom Oghren shares his dreams of achieving glory for his house (in however amusing a vision), of earning a good reputation among his people after having been shunned and tossed aside by them?  Isn’t it interesting how Oghren shares his abject disagreement with the use and creation of golems with the dog, even though the dog joins the ranks of the companions who don’t like Oghren and have no tolerance for him?  How fucking interesting.  Thank you, BioWare, for that.  Thank you for lowering all of your characters – with the exception of Leliana and Zevran, mind you – to a one-note punchline, or to being the idiots who actually believe this dwarf is only a one-note punchline.

Leliana, Zevran, this is why I love you.  Alistair, Morrigan, Wynne, Shale, Sten, hell, even Dog, y’all can go sit someplace where I don’t have to look at you, and stay there until you think about what you’ve done.  I love you all, but you never learn anything in your damn banter.  If a dynamic starts out bad or hostile, it stays bad or hostile (maybe with one or two red herrings of incomplete development); if it starts good and wholesome, it stays good and wholesome.  It’s only ever an unmoving line, a constant adherence to whatever status quo the first conversation establishes.  No one ever learns, tries to understand, or develops in any way with these other characters they chat with, and I’m tired of it.  And for the writers who thought that it was a good idea to give us a myriad of the exact same jokes over and over instead of developing the one dwarf companion you gave us, I bite my thumb at you.

[daihell]

No One Else to Blame Chapter 5

Dorian doesn’t remember drawing the knife, let alone ever wanting to harm the Inquisitor, the man he loved, but that hardly mattered. What was done, was done, and Dorian had to face the consequences of his actions. It was the waiting that was really getting to him. Read more AO3

“So this is where you’ve been hiding.”

Dorian sat up with a start, knocking the book that had been resting on his lap to the ground. He must have dozed off at some point and he rubbed hurriedly at his face, trying to focus. Varric was standing there looking apprehensive and Dorian just waved him off.

“I haven’t been hiding,” he protested more sharply than he’d intended, reaching down to pick up his book. “Did you need something?”

“Just checking to see how you’re holding up,” Varric said and to his credit he did appear genuine.

“I wasn’t the one who was stabbed.” Dorian stood, not particularly interested in holding a conversation, especially not one about his feelings, and went to search the shelves again for more books.

“No, but you look it.” Dorian scoffed, but Varric continued. “I know how much he means to you. You’ve changed since you met him. No one can fake that.”

Dorian bit his lip. Hard. “You may be the only one who believes that,” he said, keeping his voice carefully steady.

He didn’t want to think about that, about how much he cared and how close he’d come to losing this remarkable man that inspired him, who cared so much and made Dorian feel things he never thought possible. Dorian was resilient; he could survive anything life threw at him. But if he lost Elden-- he wasn’t sure how much of himself would be left after something like that.

“Well,” Varric said. “If you want to talk--”

“I don’t,” Dorian replied sharply.

He listened to Varric’s retreating footsteps, echoing slightly through the rotunda. As soon as he heard him pass through the doorway, growing quieter, Dorian slumped forward, leaning heavily against the bookshelf. His eyes burned and he closed them tightly, refusing to feel anything. There would be no more tears. He breathed deeply, shakily, and had only just composed himself when he heard more footsteps approaching. These were heavy and deliberate and he knew it was the Iron Bull before he even reached the top of the stairs. Dorian stood up straight again, selected a book and began to flip through it.

“You’re going to want to come with me,” Bull said, coming to a halt behind him.

“Oh? And where exactly are we off to? Some empty back passage that a body could easily be hidden or disposed of? Do what the others should have done immediately?” Dorian asked bitterly, but he still tossed his book onto the desk and gestured for Bull to lead the way.

“Believe it or not I actually think you’re telling the truth,” Bull said calmly. “Like Vivienne said, either you’re smarter than all of us and no one’s that good.”

Dorian sighed, feeling guilty for his outburst. “I suppose I should thank you for that. Where exactly are we going then?” He stopped when he realized they was heading for the infirmary. “You can’t be serious.”

“The boss wants you there,” he said simply.

“If you're all willing to accept the possibility of blood magic, then you have to have consider the consequences of putting me in the same room as the Inquisitor. I thought you of all people would understand that.”

“Of course,” Bull said. “That’s why Cassandra’s there. Make a move and she’ll kill you before you’ve taken a step. Besides, I’ve seen the boss take down dragons. I’m pretty sure he can handle you now that he’s on guard.”

“Of course he can but we both know he has a frustrating habit of being a little too trusting. He would have given himself to Corypheus back at Haven if he thought it would have helped.

“That’s why we’re there,” Bull said with a smile as he pushed open the door and headed inside.

Dorian hesitated for a moment. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and walked inside where he found the advisors, Cassandra, Blackwall, and Vivienne already there. Dorian was much too relieved to see Elden up and dressed. And of course the damnable man practically lit up when he caught sight of him entering. Dorian wasn’t exactly sure how to respond to that so he settled on grim silence as he turned his attention to the conversation that was already underway.

“--very difficult to prove of course,” Vivienne was saying, “but because of its complexity, usually only one command is given. Now that it has been carried out, he should no longer pose a threat.”

“Even though it ultimately failed?” Cassandra asked skeptically. “And how likely is it that something like this could happen again with any of us? Or our soldiers? This could pose a serious problem.”

“This is an incredibly complex spell, it is unlikely to be repeated on a wider scale, especially since the Inquisitor’s party eliminated the perpetrators” Vivienne said. “Besides, with the amount of work it takes with such a low level of success,” here she cast a glance in Dorian’s direction, “I highly doubt this will become a common tactic.”

“Still,” Leliana interjected, “it would be wise to instate some form of interrogation for anyone who has spent any length of time with the Venatori.”

“What exactly would that kind of interrogation involve? I don’t want our people suffering more once we’ve gotten them back,” Elden said because of course their safety was his priority.

“Of course,” Vivienne said. “I have a few ideas, nothing too invasive. I can work with Leliana, Dagna, and a few other trusted mages to sort out the most likely options and present them to you later today.”

“Thank you.”

Dorian tuned out as the conversation turned to the usual war room talk. He watched Elden instead, the way he listened intently, ready and willing to help despite the fact that he had nearly died only the day before. He didn’t look much better than he had the last time he saw him. Dorian planned on yelling at him once the others had left because getting dressed seemed like a pointless waste of energy. Actually, Dorian wanted to yell at all of them for interrupting his rest. Surely this business could wait. He was studying Elden’s face when he noticed his eyebrows draw together slightly. What was that? Had he winced?

“You okay, boss?” Bull asked. Obviously he had noticed as well.

Elden wavered suddenly before slumping forward, barely catching the windowsill to hold himself up. Bull, Vivienne, and the surgeon were at his side first and Dorian wanted nothing more than to push his way forward, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. While Bull helped him sit, the others glanced reflexively at Dorian who blanched, looking down at his hands guiltily as if he expected to see another dagger or something equally lethal in his hands. They were empty.

“I’m sorry, I’m all right,” Elden said, but Vivienne and the surgeon forced him to lie down so they could examine him.

Dorian was fairly certain he forgot to breathe for a few minutes at least. A part of him wished they would drag him away, as guilty as he felt. On the other hand, though, he never wanted to move from this spot until Elden was fine again. Maker, please just let him be fine.

“Poison,” Vivienne said and Dorian’s mouth went dry. There was a pounding in his ears and it was so difficult to hear through the terror creeping up his spine.  “The dagger must have been coated. I’m afraid we need to know what kind in order to administer the proper antidote, otherwise we’ll just make matters worse.”

 None of them needed to point out that poisons were as common in Tevinter as they were in a Crow’s pockets. Even if Dorian reached out to his assassin friends there was no guarantee that the Venatori had been using whatever was fashionable in Tevinter at the moment. Nothing about them had seemed fashionable after all.

“Then we need to go back, search the bodies,” Cassandra said urgently.

 At least they were all on the same page. And they all seemed to be accepting that Dorian really had gotten the dagger from the Venatori. The question was, did they believe it was blood magic too or did they think he took it from them willingly? 

-

Despite his better judgement, Dorian remained at Elden’s side for the next several hours even as the others came and went. Never alone, of course, he couldn’t risk that. Obviously no one else approved, but of course the Inquisitor turned a deaf ear on any complaints and even had the audacity to thank Dorian for staying. Honestly he would have stormed out, but he so desperately needed to know that Elden was okay.

 Except that he wasn’t. Sure, he was all smile and reassurances, but he was only going to get worse, not better. He was still so pale and if this continued they all knew that, despite Vivienne’s potions slowing it, he would eventually simply waste away. Dorian was holding his hand tightly when everyone eventually gathered again.

“We can set out immediately,” Cassandra was saying. “You’ll be coming with us, Dorian.”

He stood slowly, trying to prolong the contact with Elden. He was angry with himself for it, knowing he should distance himself before he made everything worse, but he just wanted to feel his warmth, as fever hot as he was.

“And I’ll be coming too,” Elden said and they all stopped.

“Inquisitor,” Cassandra began.

“No,” Vivienne said. “He’s right. It would be best if he were present when we find the antidote.”

Judging by the solemn silence that followed, everyone understood. They didn’t exactly know how much time he had left, but it couldn’t be much. Exerting himself wasn’t exactly wise, but there may not be enough time for them to find it and get back. They had to risk it so he was on hand when they obtained the antidote.

“Well,” Elden said into the silence. “Let’s head out then. I know I for one would prefer to get this over with as quickly as possible.”

Elden was avoiding looking anyone in the eye and Dorian wanted to kick himself. No doubt he hated having everyone worry about him this way. No doubt Elden certainly appreciated the concern, of course, but in moments like these it made him feel like a bother. He hated worrying them but Dorian just wished he would accept their damned concern and take care of himself for once, put his own health and safety first for a change. Still, Dorian knew he hated being the center of this sort of attention so he might as well help get things moving.

“Right then,” Dorian said, turning to leave. “I guess I’ll go prepare. Meet you all in the courtyard in ten?”

Next -->

[quickspinner]

Let Me Forget the Sky, CH 1

A DA:I Fanfic

The differences between them seem as large as the riven sky, but the cause that unites them turns out to be the least of the bonds between them. The Inquisitor and the Commander’s romance, told in the moments between, with as little game recap as I can manage.

Prologue ** Chapter 2 ** Fiction Master Post

Chapter 1: A New Idea

He was certain there must have been a time when life was “normal” but he wasn’t sure there was anyone in Thedas who remembered what it was like. First the Blight and the years of upheaval it caused, then the chaos of the mage-templar war, and now…that.

Cullen stood outside of his command tent and stared up at the rift in the sky, glowing a sickly green. Solas said that spirits were being drawn through the rift against their will, the trauma turning them into demons. Cullen respected Solas’ efforts to help, though the mage’s attitude sometimes grated, but it had been difficult enough for Cullen to make some kind of peace with his feelings about mages. It was still too much to ask him to feel sorry for demons, whether they had any choice in the matter or not. A cold, clammy feeling mixed oddly with the perpetual lyrium ache in his gut. He wondered if the demons he’d fought during the battle knew. Could they sense those who had been touched before? Was it a weakness they were drawn to or a warning that he would not be taken easily?

He shook himself from dark thoughts and scolded himself to focus on the things he could change. The Inquisition had been declared and denounced. They were on their own now, the only ones willing to do what must be done. Cullen had made great progress in trying to put his past behind him, and he could not allow himself to fall back into that place now. Especially not when they might need the rebel mages to close the Breach.

The thought of an entire horde of mages descending on the camp made his skin crawl despite his efforts to be neutral. Many of those mages had been out of the Circle’s control for some time. There was no knowing how many of them were corrupt. It was easier dealing with individual mages like Solas, Vivienne, and Lavellan, people he could look in the eye and know as more than mages. It was work to control the paranoia that whispered to him in Meredith’s voice when the mages were a faceless group of which he knew little.

He went his rounds through the soldier’s camp, speaking individually to his lieutenants and making sure to check on the newest set of recruits. They had come trickling in as word of the Inquisition spread, giving various reasons for joining up but all sweeping the camp for a glimpse of the Herald of Andraste as they spoke to him. He answered a few questions–yes, she was Dalish, yes, she was a mage–and deflected others–was she really the Herald, was she as beautiful as Andraste–and wondered what they would think when they met her.

He listened patiently to Rylen’s blistering opinion of Havens logistical disadvantages, an opinion which he shared but, as Commander, couldn’t properly voice in such terms. “Threnn is working on it,” he told his second, knowing it would do little to soothe Rylen.

“Threnn is useless,” Rylen snorted. “And that merchant, Segrit or whatever his name is, he’s a crook. Half the soldiers are in debt to him already. The only one doing anything about this mess is the Herald. Seems like a little bit of a thing, but I guess she knows how to get things done. Maybe we should’ve hired a Dalish quartermaster if they all work this fast.”

“Has the Herald spoken to you?” Cullen asked, a little surprised at Rylen’s praise. Generally the Knight-Captain was stingy with it.

“Not directly, no,” Rylen admitted. “But every time she comes back to camp she delivers another batch of supplies. If we have to have a Herald of Andraste, I’m glad we got one that doesn’t mind getting her hands dirty.” Rylen seemed to hesitate, and Cullen raised his eyebrows. It wasn’t like Rylen to hold back.

“How do you want me to handle the camp talk, Ser?” Rylen asked. “The slurs–knife-ear and such, and rumors about the Dalish.”

Cullen frowned. “You’ve been hearing such things?”

“Mostly from the career soldiers,” Rylen told him. “The recruits coming in from the country, they mostly come because of the rumors of the Herald, but the others, the ones who aren’t so starry-eyed, they talk like they always do about women and elves.”

“Make sure you keep me informed about what they’re saying,” Cullen said after a moment of thought. “If there’s any true danger to the Herald, we’ll need to know. On second thought, I’ll speak to Leliana about it, her people are better equipped to follow up on rumors. In the meantime, we’ll make some public examples.”

“Got it,” Rylen grinned. “Knock some heads, do some shouting.”

“Make it clear that kind of talk won’t be tolerated anymore,” Cullen nodded. “I’ll do the same if I hear it. It probably won’t change their minds, but…”

“Don’t care what they think as long as they keep it in their heads,” Rylen shrugged. “As you say, Commander. I’ll take care of it, best I can.”

Cullen nodded and glanced up at the sun. “Carry on, Captain,” he said, shifting his sword to rest more more comfortably on his hip, and turned away, heading into the Chantry for the war council. He was early and therefore a little surprised to find everyone except Lavellan already gathered. He hesitated slightly at the door, but Cassandra tipped her head in invitation and he joined them, closing the door behind him.

“Commander. I’m glad you’re here. Before the Herald arrives, I would like to have a brief discussion regarding appointing an Inquisitor to lead us.”

“Ah–” Cullen looked at Leliana and Josephine for help, but both might as well be wearing Orlesian masks for all the expression they displayed. “I’m sorry, I just assumed…”

“I would not have spent months scouring half of Thedas for the Hero of Ferelden or the Champion of Kirkwall if Most Holy had wanted me to lead this Inquisition,” Cassandra said with a shrug.

“I understand, but surely the situation is different now,” Cullen replied, advancing to his accustomed place at the table. “There is no more time to find someone else.”

“That is not entirely true. For the moment, this council will suffice. What must be done now can be done without an Inquisitor,” Cassandra replied. “There is still time to see if there is someone else more capable.”

“Someone else–” Abruptly Cullen understood. “You can’t mean Lavellan?”

“You disagree?” Leliana asked, her voice, as always, deceptively soft and smooth, giving nothing of her own thoughts away.

Cullen hesitated. “I’m…not sure exactly. She’s not–” he paused, collecting his thoughts. “I knew both the Hero of Ferelden and the Champion of Kirkwall, as did you, I know.”

“I met Hawke only briefly,” Leliana demurred.

Cullen gestured acknowledgement. “Even before she was taken by the Wardens, Seriana was a presence. She was only an apprentice but when she walked through the halls, people - mages and templars alike - made room for her without even thinking about it. And Hawke was,” he shook his head, “Hawke was like a force of nature. She barely made an effort to hide what she was, but it hardly mattered because even the Knight-Commander was reluctant to take her on, with good reason as it turned out. The Herald is different, she doesn’t have that overpowering charisma. She’s quieter, less noticeable. And she seems…uncertain. Or perhaps just uncommitted.”

“Perhaps a little of both,” Leliana mused. “It’s true that she doesn’t have the same confidence or presence as our first choices. But consider the position she is in. I have been doing some checking and the Lavellan clan interacted with humans far more than most Dalish, but she has still found herself in a world - in a religion, even, that is not her own. Perhaps it is well that she is an…unconventional hero. Proof that the Maker can use anyone to his good purposes, as long as the vessel is willing. Perhaps she will stand as a reminder that we are all the Maker’s children, and the differences we draw between us are nothing in His eyes.”

Cullen grunted. “Now you’re talking publicity and politics. Not my area.”

“Have you so low an opinion of my faith?” Leliana asked, a teasing smile tugging her lips beneath her hood.

“No, of course not,” Cullen said immediately. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to imply–”

Leliana waved away his apology. “At any rate, there is nothing for us to do but wait and see. I think there is more to her than what we have seen. When she has gotten her footing a little, seen for herself what is at stake here, then we can judge the truth.”

“I believe Leliana is right,” Josephine put in. “There is also this: because the Dalish are so insular, she is without many of the biases that most of us are burdened with. Mage, templar, Orlesian, Ferelden, these distinctions mean less to her than they do to us.”

“That is true,” Cassandra said drily. “For the most part, the Dalish hate all humans equally.”

“Many of them with good reason,” Leliana put in.

Josephine shrugged. “Yet she has not rejected this whole operation out of hand. She handled her first brush with nobility rather well, if a bit more sarcastically than I would prefer. But then, she is not the only one among us with that problem.” She raised an eyebrow at Cullen, who merely rolled his eyes back at her. Josephine smiled and continued thoughtfully, “Of course we know very little about the Dalish and there is so much variation between clans, it is hard to say anything with certainty, but commonly there are very few mages permitted in any single clan. I do think she is too young to be the clan’s Keeper, nor do I think they would send their leader into such danger. However, from speaking to her, I believe it is very likely that she was apprenticed to the Keeper, and next in line to lead the clan. If so, she is no stranger to responsibility or leadership, which is promising.”

“Hopefully that means she will be comfortable leading a team in the field,” Cullen said thoughtfully. “The Dalish must field small units by necessity, so surely she has experience in that area, though she may not be used to coordinating with larger forces.”

“She is a capable enough fighter, I will grant her that,” Cassandra observed. “Though she may yet prove too difficult to work with. She was even prickly with Solas.”

“The Dalish don’t have a high opinion of city elves,” Leliana pointed out. “And Solas can be a bit…prickly himself.”

“Very true,” Cassandra conceded with a small nod. “And I must say that her interactions with civilians so far have been considerably less antagonistic than her responses to us.”

Leliana’s soft tone was sober, almost sad. “Consider, also, that the first thing we did was clap her in irons and accuse her of the murder of hundreds. She is a mage, and an elf - a Dalish elf at that. I doubt she believes there is any justice to be found for her in a Chantry trial. She has no choice but to remain with us and do as we ask, for now. If she tries to leave Chancellor Roderick will have whatever remaining Chantry forces he can gather hunting her. But we must win her to our cause if she is to lead us, even as a figurehead.”

Cassandra sighed impatiently. “It is useless to speculate more. We will do what we must, and we will all have to adapt as the situation evolves. We simply don’t know enough - about anything. What happened at the Conclave, the Breach, the Herald. We can do little until we have more information. All I ask is that you all observe her and consider whether she may be fit for the role of Inquisitor.”

“Is that really our plan?” Cullen asked incredulously. “Wait and see?”

“We will not sit idly by,” Cassandra said, a bit tartly. “There is more than enough to be done before we are secure enough to make any major moves.”

“True enough,” Josephine said, and at that moment, the door opened, and Lavellan stepped inside. “Ah, Herald. Welcome,” Josephine smiled and bobbed her head slightly, as if they hadn’t just all been discussing Lavellan behind her back. “Shall we begin?”

With this new idea in mind, Cullen studied Lavellan as the meeting went on, as covertly as he could manage. She was serious and thoughtful, soft-spoken but decisive. Capable, he thought, but hardly inspiring. He remembered that flash of humor from her that had caught him so off guard the last time they’d spoken, the lopsided smile that had completely disarmed him, and wondered if that momentary connection was a sign of something more. Eventually Josephine caught him distracted, and he put the matter aside to focus on what was in front of him. All in all, he thought as the meeting ended and he moved toward the door, they’d gotten a surprising amount of work done. His mind flew back to the thousand other concerns he had to manage, and he was already a million miles away when a quiet question stopped him in his tracks.

“Commander, may I speak with you?”

Cullen halted, jolted back to reality. “Yes?” he said rather stupidly, trying to bring his focus down to the elven woman in front of him.

“I don’t want to keep you,” she said, gesturing to the door. “Shall we walk while we talk?”

“Of course,” Cullen said, resuming his step but pausing to allow Lavellan through the door first with a slight, habitual bow. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“That is actually what I wanted to ask you,” said Lavellan, pausing just a breath to let him come along side her as they moved into the hallway. “I understand we’re having trouble getting the wounded tended to. Is there anything we can do about it?”

“Not unless you have a bevvy of healing mages secreted away somewhere,” Cullen replied grimly. “The healers we have on hand are doing their best, magical and otherwise, but there simply aren’t enough of them to deal with the refugees and our soldiers.”

“I don’t, sadly,” Lavellan sighed through her nose. “My clan would not part with our healers even temporarily, and my talents don’t lie in that direction. Our Second was a much more talented healer so I didn’t pursue it, and while I know some of the herbalist healers’ crafts by necessity, what I know is more about supplies and preparation than application. But perhaps I can review the poultices and brews your healers are using and see if I know anything that can help. Is there nowhere we can send for aid?”

He glanced at her and saw that she knew there wasn’t, but shook his head anyway, since she’d felt the need to ask the question. “We may get a few people trickling in who can help, but it’s not as if we can petition the Circle to send us some healers.”

“Magic isn’t the only way to heal, just the fastest,” replied Lavellan. “What about other sources? Are there schools for other kinds of healers we can apply to? Even apprentices would be something, and could ease the load on Adan and whatever mages we have.”

Cullen shook his head again, pausing to hold open the big chantry door for her. “If we had more influence, we might be able to recruit at such places in Denerim or Val Royeaux, but as it stands most of our influence is among the country folk we’ve been protecting from demons, rogue mages, and templars. The healers there seldom have more than one or two students at a time, like Adan.”

“And they’re badly needed where they are,” Lavellan muttered thoughtfully.

“You seem very concerned,” Cullen observed. He hadn’t thought her so invested in their cause.

“The Dalish do not send our hunters out without support, nor leave them to languish from their wounds,” Lavellan said tersely. “And I am not one who can watch suffering without action. Where will your army be, Commander, if your men die from lack of care? What good will the Inquisition do if it cannot even look after its own?”

“I do not need you to lecture me on what my men suffer,” Cullen retorted. “I know it well, I assure you.”

Lavellan opened her mouth to respond and then stopped, taking a deep breath. “Of course,” she said after a moment. “Forgive my harsh words, Commander. I know well the frustration of trying to do much with little and I don’t mean to lecture you.”

“Well,” Cullen said, finding he couldn’t be really angry with her when she seemed so honestly concerned, “I suppose it is your turn.”

She laughed at that, short and sharp but it made him smile. “Well. Now we’re even, aren’t we? Perhaps we can discuss a solution more amicably.”

“I welcome any advice you can give us,” Cullen told her. “But I fear that the best thing we can do is spread the Inquisition’s influence and deal with that.” He waved a hand at the Breach. “If that doesn’t bring the support we need to get a full complement of healers then nothing will. In the meantime, keeping the healers we have well supplied must be a priority. Trade lines have been a problem. Haven is very isolated. The roads have improved significantly since the temple was discovered, but between the explosion and the chaos of the war, finding people willing to bring trade up here is difficult.” He sighed, his frustration showing on his face. “We haven’t so many soldiers that I can afford to send them out shopping, nor to guard servants who go out to gather supplies.”

Lavellan chuckled a little and he raised his eyebrows. “Sorry,” she shrugged, still grinning. “It’s just–welcome to the life of the outcast, Commander. These are problems the Dalish face every day, but hopefully that means I can help there. I’ll stop by your tent later, we can discuss strategies for getting what you need. In the meantime, I’ll bring in what I can myself.”

“That would be appreciated, Herald.” Remembering his conversation with Rylen, he added, “I understand you’ve already been a great help with the supplies. Thank you for taking the time.”

“Thank you for speaking with me, Commander,” Lavellan said, putting a hand on his arm. He tried not to flinch. “I know you’re very busy and I appreciate you taking the time to discuss the problem with me, even if there is nothing more that can be done.”

“Of course,” Cullen said, and Lavellan turned away. Cullen lifted a hand to rub the back of his neck as he watched her go, feeling vaguely unsettled. For a mage to so casually touch a templar–former templar–was rather unusual.

“A copper for your thoughts, Commander.”

Cullen jumped. “Maker’s breath, Leliana!”

“My apologies,” she said, but he could hear the laughter in her voice. “I was just wondering what you thought of that little encounter.”

He didn’t bother to question why she’d been listening. “I hardly know,” he admitted. “I’ll admit I haven’t known her for very long, but she just–never seems to be what I expect.”

“Perhaps that is because she isn’t what you expect,” Leliana suggested, folding her arms as she looked towards where Lavellan had paused to speak with Threnn. “I understand your concerns. But you must remember, Seriana was a circle mage. She learned early on that the Circle could be an ugly place and so she wore her power as openly as she could. It gained her respect and safety but it also isolated her. I didn’t know Hawke as well, but my instinct is that she may have had an innate tendency towards aggressiveness, but she cultivated it once she realized it kept people at a distance. As an apostate, and as powerful as she was, people were probably already uneasy around her without realizing why. Being so pushy gave people a reason for their uneasiness, so that they were less likely to look too closely. But our Herald is different. She had no need to hide, but neither was she surrounded by those who were her equal in power. An entirely different approach was required, and that is why she seems so surprising to us.”

“What you’re saying,” Cullen said, shifting his weight back and resting his hand on his sword hilt as he considered, “Is that she’s learned not to show too openly what she is, so that she doesn’t frighten people.”

“Yes and no.” Leliana shook her head slightly. “You’re still thinking like a templar. You say that as if her intention is to deceive, to convince people she is not dangerous when she really is. Yet she is accomplished, in control of her power, and she is not a maleficar. She is in fact, not dangerous, any more than any other warrior in perfect control of their weapon. Perhaps if you stop looking for the double motives behind her action, you will stop being surprised at them.”

“Strange advice to come from you of all people,” Cullen said, and then regretted it as unkind. “But thank you. I will think on what you’ve said.”

“I know you will,” Leliana said with a smile, as she passed by towards her own pavilion. “Consider also if more mages might be like her if they weren’t raised to fear both themselves and the world.”

Cullen rolled his eyes as he turned away. He and Leliana had gone over their differences of opinion on mage rights many times by now but she remained steadfast in her belief that mages should be free. She had been there when the Wardens took back Kinloch Hold. She had seen the aftermath of the chaos in Kirkwall. If that wasn’t enough to convince her, he doubted any words of his would do so.

As he continued back towards his command tent he glanced once more back at Lavellan, thinking again of Cassandra’s words. He wondered what Cassandra had seen out in the field with the Herald, what made her think Lavellan could walk in the steps of heroes.

Well. Time would show. For now, he had work to do.

Chapter 2 ** Fiction Master Post

Author’s Note: This setup chapter was a little difficult for me, and I hope it doesn’t drag too much, but the next section is mostly complete and will pick things up a little bit. Thanks for reading!

[ellenembee]

The Revelation of All Things - 34. In which love is a balm and anger is an analgesic

Read the full fic on AO3.

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Josie had secured them passage on a boat that left from Jader, the port city on the border of Orlais and Ferelden, and they rode hard out of Skyhold to ensure they made it on time. The pace left little room for talking, but she wouldn't have wanted to speak anyway. The last few days had been too special, too unbelievable to be able to engage in idle talk just yet.

As she gazed unseeing at the blur of rocks, hills and trees around her, Evana faded into herself to sort through the strange aches and flutters that had plagued her since that day on the battlements. Her tender feelings had flourished under Cullen's gentle care, roots digging in deeper, tighter, woven into intricate, irreversible patterns through her heart. But the way her heart now yearned for him, the way every step away from him pulled at the fragile roots, testing strength as only time and distance could... Would she break under these new and uncomfortable feelings? Would the separation wither the ties between them? Would he change his mind with so much time to rethink their impractical relationship?

A tiny gasp escaped her lips at the sharp, visceral ache that pulsed through her at the thought, an ache unlike anything she'd felt before. She then sighed as one truth became crystal clear. This is going to be a long trip.

They made camp late that night and set off early the next morning to catch their boat. Josephine's connection had offered them passage all the way across the Waking Sea and up the river through the Heartlands to a small port town on western side of Lake Celestine, which meant they'd only have a few days of traveling by horse after disembarking. When Leliana had sent word to Captain Rylen to expect them, Rylen had responded that they had yet to hear from the Champion or Warden Stroud. Evana intoned a prayer as she rode that they were both OK.

Although the prayer was directed to the Creators, she couldn't help the small part of her that wondered if she should also address it to the Maker and his prophet, Andraste. She was supposed to be Andraste's Herald after all, and Cullen's song the other night had moved her in a way she hadn't expected - in a way the songs about the Elvhen lore and Creators never had.

She felt a tinge of shame for even thinking in such a way. But what if Andraste had really guided her through the Fade and given her a mark to fight Corypheus? She still had no memory of what had happened to her in the Fade, but the more regions they stabilized and the more they emerged victorious, the more it felt as though a guiding force had truly taken interest in their mission. The existence of one god did not preclude others, after all.

She pushed the thoughts aside. Her faith in the Elvhen gods had always been more academic than spiritual, but she wasn't ready to jump into another religion quite yet... if ever.

They reached Jader with a couple hours to spare, so they made their arrangements and stopped in for a late afternoon meal at a nearby restaurant. As she absently listened to the idle banter of her companions, she picked at her food. She should be hungry, but the food held no appeal. Halfway through the meal, Dorian's voice finally cut through the haze of her thoughts.

"... I know. But she's clearly not listening to anything we're saying. It's no fun to tease someone who isn't even paying attention to you."

Evana looked up to see her companions staring at her with equally amused and concerned expressions on their faces. "Hmmmm...?"

"There you are. I thought I might have to do some sort of interpretive dance to get your attention. We are supposed to be dancing our way through Thedas, after all," Dorian quipped. After a pause during which she merely rolled her eyes at him, he continued. "So, can I guess what - or rather who - you're thinking of? Perhaps the person I saw kissing you so passionately in the courtyard yesterday morning?"

Varric laughed. "And it's about damn time, too. I thought Curly was never going to make a move."

Evana blushed hotly and looked back down at her food without responding. She wouldn't take the bait. Perhaps she'd be able to joke about it later, but right now, it was too precious a thing to sully with Dorian and Varric's teasing. Bull's voice cut in, much softer and laced with concern.

"I was merely saying that you really should eat, boss. We won't have another meal like this for... well... weeks."

They all gave her their most serious looks. The irony of her three most sarcastic, smart-ass companions being serious for this long was not lost on her. She had to laugh, or she would cry.

"Creators, I'm not made of glass! I'll be fine... and yes, I'll eat, Bull. I was just... distracted."

To prove her point, she began eating in earnest. She made sure to finish the plate for good measure. As they boarded the ship, Evana tried engage more with her companions, but she found herself drifting into her own thoughts in spite of her best intentions. She wasn't used to having friends who worried about her, asked about her day and expected her to participate in conversations. In her clan, she'd focused on her work and learning from Vash'an and Deshanna. Her peers had all had families of their own, so...

All excuses. You were diffident to your clan and your peers. You had no confidence in yourself. How could they?

During childhood, she'd always felt out of place, but she'd also been less shy, more willing to take chances. However, her odd relationship with her mother, working so hard with Vash'an and then being apprenticed to the Keeper had led her to be more withdrawn. Her relationship with Hanir, even before their bonding, had introduced feelings of inadequacy, and she'd folded into herself even more. Then, after the attack, she'd poured all her energy into learning to protect the clan - to do what she'd hadn't been able to do for them before. She worked hard to become the best at offensive magic she could be. She would not let them down again.

But the clan had taken her dedication as disinterest, her lack of confidence and withdrawn nature as superiority. Deshanna had understood and done her best to pave the way, but Evana knew. Clan Lavellan didn't miss her, didn't wish or hope for her return. If she were honest with herself, she was still working on coming to terms with that realization, but her growing friendships and... other relationships at the Inquisition stood in stark contrast with the years of ambivalence from her clan.

Perhaps that was why she felt such kindredship with Cullen. They had both made mistakes in their past, neglected their own lives to try to make things right. Now they both had great purpose as well as great people surrounding them. It seemed like a chance for redemption that neither of them thought they deserved but both had grabbed onto like an anchor in a storm.

With these thoughts swirling in her head, she took up a spot that would give her the best view of the Frostbacks for as long as the late evening sun would allow. Ironically, an experience that started with imprisonment had made her realize exactly what she'd been missing in her clan. Perhaps she felt homesick now because, for the first time, these people felt like a true home. And she shouldn't let her reticent nature keep her isolated from them.

As if they could understand her thoughts, she turned around to find Dorian, Varric and Bull standing just behind her. She smiled at them.

"So, Varric, tell me more about this game you've been talking about... Wicked Grace was the name, I believe?"

**

The ship docked in a port outside the small town of Velun four days later. Evana had ended up sleeping for most of the trip, the rocking of the boat mimicking the rocking of the aravels of her childhood. She would try to stay awake for longer than a few hours, but the rocking of the boat just put her right back to sleep. She hadn't felt so refreshed in ages. After gathering their waiting supplies, they headed in the direction of the forward camp. They pushed on until dusk, and she took the first watch as they set up camp. She was still wide awake, but the others collapsed as soon as they hit their bedrolls.

Alone once more with her thoughts, she found herself humming Cullen's chant to herself. She couldn't remember the words, but the gorgeous melody echoed in her thoughts along with the golden visage of her Commander.

She'd come to think of Cullen's faith as just another facet of the man, and she could see that he truly did his best to serve his Maker and Andraste. He failed at times, that much he'd told her, and she'd heard echoes of rumors, the vague whispers of other mages in the dark corners of the keep, of the things in his past he had yet to share with her. Although she'd never pressure him to speak with her about it, the fact that he had yet to open up presented an obstacle she knew they'd need to overcome. Additionally, they'd simply agreed to be open to one another's opinion on mage oversight, but they'd not truly reached an understanding. And yet she thought of all she'd learned about him in the last several months, and she couldn't help feeling that they'd come to an understanding eventually.

It was still hard to believe that he truly cared for her, but all the times he'd gone out of his way to please her or make her feel more comfortable went far beyond cursory concern. Even in Haven, before he'd let himself truly show how much he cared, she'd felt and seen his kindness. Just the fact that he'd taken time out of his day to walk and talk meant the world to her. She already missed him terribly, and it made her feel a bit like a love-sick fool.

Too bad I don't care at all.

She woke Varric at midnight for his watch and lay down to sleep. She felt like she'd only closed her eyes for a moment when a hand shook her awake.

"Come on, sleepy head, time to get up and go kill things," Dorian cooed in her ear. "It's your favorite thing, I know."

She grimaced as her body protested from sleeping on the hard ground. It was amazing how quickly a person could get used to a shemlen bed. As they rode further west, the heat and sun intensified. By the time the sun set, they were all exhausted once again. After another night on the ground, they rode into the forward camp as the late morning sun beat down upon the rows of tents and supplies marked for the Inquisition's extended stay in the Approach. Scout Harding greeted them with a wry smile.

"Inquisitor, welcome to the Western Approach. We've sighted Warden activity to the southwest, but no one's been close enough to figure out what they're doing. Between the sandstorms and the vicious wildlife, we haven't made it far out here. One of my men got too close to a poison hot spring and gave me a slightly delirious report of a high dragon flying overhead."

"A dragon!? Yeeeeessss!!"

Evana shot Bull a death look, and he shrugged. Harding paused and shot an amused look between the two of them before continuing in a faux chipper tone.

"In short, this just might be the worst place in the entire world."

Evana gave her a sympathetic look. "I assume you've got your orders to head to the oasis next?"

"Yes, your worship. I will be heading out there soon. And Captain Rylen and his company are out fighting off a group of varghest from our water supply."

"Please tell the Captain when he returns that we're going to find the Grey Wardens. I hope we can end this quickly."

"Be sure to let us know if you think you need back up. Good luck, and be careful, Inquisitor."

Evana saluted Harding and pulled out a map of the area. She found her direction, and they set off. They had to fight through a couple of rifts and multiple attacks from wildlife and Venatori before they finally approached the Grey Warden ruin several hours later. To her great relief, she saw Hawke and Stroud crouching outside the tower's entrance. The lines in Stroud's face pulled deep as he turned his agitated gaze on her.

"I'm glad you made it, Inquisitor. I'm afraid they've already started the ritual."

The green light emanating from the tower told her all she needed to know about the situation. A cold stab of fear shot through her, but she looked at the group of warriors gathered around her and shoved the fear away. Whatever lay within those walls, they would defeat it, as they had done countless times before.

As they approached, they could see a Grey Warden walking away with a rage demon following closely behind. He joined a line of other Wardens bound to various other demons standing eerily still on the tower platform. A dark-haired man in Tevinter-style dress looked up from his Warden thralls and called out to them.

"Inquisitor! What an unexpected pleasure." The man bowed, a twisted smile splitting his face. "Lord Livius Erimond of Vyrantium at your service."

"You are no Warden!" Stroud shouted at him across the platform.

Erimond's eyes narrowed as he looked to Stroud. "But you are. The one Clarel let slip. And you found the Inquisitor and came to stop me. Shall we see how that goes?"

Evana's blood boiled. Corypheus sure knew how to pick the most arrogant, self-important asses for his dirty work. At least if they're assholes, I don't feel as bad about setting them on fire. She pointed to the dead Warden on the ground before Erimond.

"Looks like you've already done some of my work for me."

"What? Him? We simply needed his blood. Oh... were you hoping to garner sympathy? Maybe make the Wardens feel a bit of remorse? Wardens! Hands up!"

The Wardens lining the path to where Erimond stood mechanically lifted their hands like puppets on a string.

"Hands down!"

The Wardens lowered their hands. Evana's heart plummeted to her stomach as she took in the vacant eyes staring out into nothingness. Beside her, Stroud positively radiated anger. She wondered sadly whether he knew any of the enslaved Wardens.

"Corypheus has taken their minds," Stroud choked out.

Erimond shook his head, a sick smile still twisting his lips. "They did this to themselves. You see, the Calling has the Wardens terrified. They looked everywhere for help."

"Even Tevinter," Stroud growled.

Evana could tell Stroud wouldn't last much longer with the talking portion of this interaction. She needed more information, though. What was the plan? Why do this? Luckily, she didn't even have to ask as Erimond provided the information freely. How accommodating of him.

"Yes, and since it was my master who put the calling into their little heads, we - the Venatori - were prepared. I went to Clarel full of sympathy, and together, we came up with a plan... raise a demon army, march into the Deep Roads, and kill the Old Gods before they wake."

Evana rolled her eyes. "Ah, I was wondering when the demon army would show up."

Erimond looked a little nervous for a moment. "You... knew about it, did you? Well, then, here you are. Sadly for the Wardens, the binding ritual I taught their mages has a side effect. They're now my master's slaves. This was a test. Once the rest of the Wardens complete the ritual, the army will conquer Thedas."

Blood magic at its worst. Leliana's words in the dark future at Redcliffe rang in her ears. And mages always wonder why people fear them... no one should have this power. Evana felt the rage inside her grow at the thought. This was why people feared them - feared her. Weak-willed fools who would try to control others with their magic. How many mages' lives had been ruined by the actions of those few who gave them all a bad name? Those who misused their power for their own personal glory or even in misguided attempts to do good?

"Thank you. That's all I needed to know," she spat out at him.

Erimond sneered and lifted his hand. It glowed red as he extended it toward her with a vicious snarl.

"Oh, please."

Suddenly, a stab of pain pierced her hand and shot up her arm. She stumbled, fell to her knees and bent over, clutching her hand to her chest in agony. But she refused to give him the satisfaction of hearing her cry out. She was too angry for that.

"The Elder One showed me how to deal with you in the event you were foolish enough to interfere again," Erimond continued, oblivious to Evana's rising temper. "That mark you bear? The anchor that lets you pass safely through the Veil? You stole that from my master. He's been forced to seek other ways to access the Fade."

Arrogant fool! Evana took several deep breaths to push back the pain, and while Erimond babbled on about his power, Evana focused as Solas had taught her. The anger became a tool, feeding her destructive force, and she stood up slowly, with purpose, raising her hand.

"When I bring him your head," Erimond finished, "his gratitude will be-"

Erimond suddenly cried out in pain as Evana used her anchor to overpower and subdue him. He flew backward a few paces and the rift the Warden had opened to summon the rage demon closed with a vicious snap. Erimond got up slowly, terror dawning on his face. In the next moment, he turned tail and ran, shouting over his shoulder.

"Kill them!"

Chaos broke loose around her as the enslaved Wardens and their demons attacked. At least all of Stroud's pent up frustration could now be put into action. A deep sadness on his behalf mixed with her fury as she worked through her forms, fighting against the men and women who once stood as heroes of Thedas. She knew the Calling had them all frightened, but this? Surely they could see they were being manipulated!?

Evana took a hard hit to her right side, forcing her to focus more fully on the battle. She called down barriers for her team as often as she could, but she mainly focused on icing out the rage demon to keep her companions from getting burned. The other mage Wardens were not difficult to kill, and finally, with one final freeze and a jolt of electricity, the rage demon exploded into a thousand pieces before her. As horrible as she felt cutting down the enslaved Wardens, the demise of that rage demon felt good.

Her blood hummed with left over adrenaline as they regrouped. She passed out a few healing potions for Varric and Hawke, who'd taken the brunt of a demon attack before she'd been able to get a barrier up for them. Dorian had been able to keep himself protected, and Iron Bull just shrugged off the damage. Hawke guzzled the potion and then shook her head.

"They refused to listen to reason."

Stroud sighed. "You were correct. Through their ritual, the mages are slaves to Corypheus."

"And the Warden warriors? What of them?" Hawke asked.

Stroud wouldn't look at Hawke, and the other mage seemed to understand. She closed her eyes and shook her head again.

"Of course, sacrificed in the ritual. What a waste."

Evana's ire was still up. She tried to be sympathetic, but surrounded by so much blood and chaos, she began to understand why Cullen might have difficulty feeling sorry for a person like Samson.

"Human sacrifice, demon summoning..." She shook her head in disgust. "Who looks at this and thinks it's a good idea?"

Hawke answered simply with, "The fearful and the foolish."

Tension arced through the air as Stroud responded. "The Wardens were wrong, Hawke, but they had their reasons."

Hawke leaned back and crossed her arms in front of her. If looks could maim, Hawke's eyes would be considered deadly weapons.

"Yes. All blood mages do. Everyone has a story they tell themselves to justify bad decisions... and it never matters. In the end, you are always alone with your actions."

Hawke's words pierced her anger, and all former sympathy for the Wardens flooded back to her. Evana's response was quiet but firm.

"Perhaps you're right, but a person who makes a bad decision may also still be redeemed."

Hawke looked at her curiously, but merely tilted her head in acknowledgement.

Evana's statement seemed to ease the tension, and Stroud finally spoke again.

"I believe I know where the Wardens are, Your Worship. Erimond fled in that direction." Stroud raised his hand and pointed south. "There's an abandoned Warden fortress that way - Adamant."

She nodded. "Good thinking."

"Stroud and I will scout out Adamant and confirm that the other Wardens are there," Hawke offered. "We'll meet you back at Skyhold."

Hawke took Varric aside, their heads bent together in whispered communion, and then she left with Stroud to scout the fortress. As Evana looked over her companions, her mind, still roiling from the adrenaline, swirled in several directions at once. Finally, Dorian pulled her from her thoughts.

"Uh, not to rush you, my dear, but we are standing among a bunch of dead Wardens and demons. Could we move on soon? I'm worried I'll get blood on my shoes."

Evana looked down at the other mage's blood-soaked armor and boots, then looked back up at him with a raised eyebrow, her lips quirking in a disbelieving smirk. "Blood on the shoes, eh? Little bit late for that." Then, turning to the others, she huffed out a long sigh. "Well, it's still light, and I'm worked up from that fight. I know it's hotter than dragon's fire out here, but... should we look for a few more rifts before heading back to camp?"

"Bianca's all in," Varric affirmed.

"Yeah, I'm up for it, Boss."

She looked at Dorian, who sighed dramatically. "Only you would ask me to trudge around in soiled armor and blazing heat to kill even more demons. Shall we practice our dancing in the sulfur pits, too?" Evana's mouth twitched with a barely suppressed smile, and Dorian's shoulders sagged in defeat. "Oh, I suppose since we're here and my boots are already ruined, we might as well."

She gave him a lopsided grin and headed off in the direction of the next rift on her map.

[kaaras-adaar-a]

dragon age: inquisition relationship scale

the scaling goes from one to five, with a heart indicating potential romantic interest (or sexual partner)repost // don’t reblog!

Blackwall ★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Kaaras still considers Blackwall a friend, but he doesn’t consider him a close friend. What he did was wrong, and he does approve of the fact that Blackwall redeemed himself and felt guilty for his wrongs. Blackwall could do some serious good with his whole redemption trope, and Kaaras saw that potential in him. So, he’s low on the scoreboard, but Kaaras doesn’t hate him. He finds Blackwall to be boring, actually, and a little too depressing to be around. The whole drinking scene with them together was just so awkward for Kaaras because Kaaras never really felt like he could open up to Blackwall.

He doesn’t feel like they can relate, and Kaaras really doesn’t approve of what he did, because it was petty and in many ways unforgivable. He expects people to be stronger than that. So… yeah, they are just VERY awkward around one another, and Kaaras often gets a little bitchy around Blackwall.

Cassandra ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ - ♥

Kaaras really likes Cassandra. I’d say they are good, close friends with one another who have been together since the start. Kaaras also had a bit of a crush on her throughout their time in Haven, but his feelings soon disappeared when he met Bull. He RESPECTS Cassandra a lot. She’s a woman who isn’t afraid to make things right and fix mistakes done. She can hold her own, she’s strong, and she fully stands up for what she believes in. They get along well, even if they’re both quite stubborn. He definitely considers her a good friend. :) 

Cole ★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆

Cole never really SCARED Kaaras. He’s always seen spirits as people, so seeing Cole was actually kind of cool for Kaaras. He found him interesting and engaging, even if a little strange. Kaaras is very much a fatherly figure to Cole, though. He takes him in, he looks after him, makes sure he’s doing okay and he can stay in more quiet places if he needs it. Cole IS a person, he has feelings, intentions, and wants to HELP others. He’s compassionate and caring, and a little innocent. He definitely considers Cole a good friend, the only thing that annoys him sometimes is when Cole looks inside his head when he shouldn’t be. XD I guess, in many ways, he’s sort of like Varric in the way he teaches Cole things and how to be more human.

Kaaras never would have had a problem if Cole wanted to stay in his spirit form, but he feels Varric was right. It had gone too far, and Cole was becoming more human the longer he stayed in Cole’s body. Plus, Cole wanted it. Kaaras saw no wrong in that, he just wanted Cole to be happy.

Cullen ★★ ★ ★ ☆ - ♥ 

Kaaras and Cullen get along very well, especially considering they are both the sort of commanding and strategic minds that can think alike. I think the only thing they REALLY clash on is the whole mage/templar thing–Cullen being an ex templar and Kaaras being a mage. He really likes Cullen, though. I wouldn’t say they are the best of friends, and it’s hard to get the both of them to wind down and not talk about work. I think that’s where they struggle the most, is to put their work faces off and just… talk. The both of them are guarded and private, though, and they don’t expect each other to randomly talk about things unless provoked. But the both of them would die for one another. 

Kaaras is also a recovering alcoholic, so he understands what it’s like to go through withdrawal. He is supportive of Cullen’s choices and encourages him to stay off lyrium.

Also, there’s a little heart on here because if Cullen ever actually liked men or qunari, Kaaras certainly would have been sexually and/or romantically interested in him. :’D He did flirt with him until he realised that Cullen wasn’t interested in men (or qunari). Overall, a romance with them would probably struggle because of their lack of communication outside of work. There is potential, but they’d have to both work VERY hard to keep it going, and I think they’d be much happier as friends than romantically involved. 

Dorian ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ - ♥

Dorian and Kaaras are actually VERY close. From the start, they both just… hit it off. I think them both being mages, and different really made them connect. And then there was the whole Redcliffe thing. Dorian was with Kaaras when it happened, and he’s the ONLY other person who remembers it because he lived through it as well. That made them bond for sure.

Kaaras has become one of Dorian’s best friends over the course of Inquisition, and perhaps one of his only friends, and Kaaras holds Dorian extremely close to him. They flirt, they talk fashion, they talk men, and tbh… Kaaras and Dorian end up talking to each other about pretty much everything.

Dorian was one of the first canon characters to actually know about Kaaras’ dad as well (even before Bull knew about it). When the whole thing happened with Dorian’s father, that really made Kaaras open up to him about it. In fact, Kaaras sometimes finds it easier to talk to Dorian than Bull about a fair few family problems and other personal things that Bull might not understand. Dorian and Kaaras talk a lot, and they really are close.

I can’t say they don’t have… SOME kind of feelings for one another, hence the heart there. Sometimes I wonder if Dorian has a thing for Kaaras, despite Bull, or perhaps they’re more platonic. But they definitely like each other a lot. Honestly, if Kaaras didn’t romance Bull, then Dorian would have been a real option.

The only thing that really gets Kaaras upset and uneasy is the fact that Dorian is a necromancer. Kaaras doesn’t think the dead should rise for anyone. They should be at peace with the world and themselves, and be left to rest. Disturbing a grave, especially for war intentions, is very much a no no. In saying that, Kaaras is still interested in all sorts of magic. Just because he refuses to use it (like blood magic as well), doesn’t mean others haven’t done GOOD with it, and Dorian is a very powerful mage.

The Iron Bull ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ - ♥

Rofl. Well, they’re lovers. <3 There are a lot of things that make them close. Kaaras was very impressed by Bull, but also very curious. He knows a damn good warrior when he sees one, and being a mercenary captain himself, it did give him and Bull a little bit to talk about, also the Qun. Now, Kaaras doesn’t mind talking about the Qun, it’s when people force it down his throat that he gets all moody and upset, but Bull was never LIKE that, in fact, he offered to talk about it if he had questions, so Kaaras kind of took advantage of that to find out what he hadn’t already.

Kaaras had a thing for Bull only days after he’d hired the man. He’d been around qunari before, and his past lover was one, but there was just something about Bull that really drew him in. From all the muscles, to the jokes, the puns, the lighthearted nature, and tbh, Bull was KIND. He LIKED when Kaaras went out of his way to help the small people, and that was important to him, because it meant Bull was also the kind of man who actually cared about the small things, even if he didn’t seem like he was.

Bull is smart, clever, caring, incredibly deep and he found himself with Kaaras and with the Inquisition. Ffs, he went and killed a dragon to collect a tooth for the man XD I’m pretty sure that shows how dedicated Kaaras is to Bull. They just… WORK. Everything about their personalities. Despite what would seem to be huge differences in them both, it actually compliments the both of them. From Bull looking like he’s the big scary non caring one when in fact he’s so deeply caring that he does just about anything to please his lover, when Kaaras is actually the demanding and in control one, to the fact that Kaaras is a mage, which Bull is terrified of magic and demons and shit, and Bull is from the Qun, which Kaaras is all iojdoifjsdjf over. But they work, they are so compatible with one another, and they’re perfect <3 Don’t even get me started on their sex life. XD

Josephine ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ - ♥

Kaaras and Josie get along VERY WELL actually. They have a high respect for one another and Josie did have a crush on Kaaras in my main playthrough (which is ADORABLE BUT ALSO REALLY SAD when Kaaras has to turn her down :( ) But they are very friendly and sweet with each other. They are the kind of friends who listen to each other when they need to vent, who go out to fancy places and eat with each other and indulge a little. They are the kind of platonic friends who will cuddle and snuggle by a fire with each other. 

I stuck the heart there because honestly, Josie is one of my favourite romances in the entire game, and her and Kaaras had REALLY good chemistry. Her romances is one of the sweetest and her and Kaaras would have made an exceptionally sweet couple. If Kaaras didn’t romance Bull, I think Josie would have beat Dorian. 

Leliana ★ ★ ★☆ ☆

Leliana seems to scare everyone–and with GOOD reason. Kaaras is STUBBORN though, and he doesn’t often care if his words will get him killed, so long as he dies defending his moral code and for the right reasons. Kaaras and Leliana actually stand for a LOT of the same things… which sort of surprises me? At least with a softened Leliana, anyway–which is how Leli ended up being in Kaaras’ playthrough.

I think this definitely makes them closer than they’d like to think? I think they don’t really WISH to be close with each other, because they definitely have some differences. Leliana IS frightening, she is willing to do some very dark things that Kaaras wouldn’t agree with, but Kaaras highly respects her, and knows she is DAMN good at what she does.

They are friends, definitely, and Leliana respects Kaaras’ position (especially since they want so much of the same thing from the Chantry and mages), but they aren’t best friends. More like very useful contacts when the time is needed. Kind of “we owe each other”.

In saying that, Kaaras, personally, isn’t actually scared of her like so many others are. Does she make him uneasy? Yes. Does he find her tactics a little horrifying? Sometimes. But he also oddly trusts that she would never stab him in the back. Maybe he’s just naive, Kaaras can be that way sometimes, but he didn’t get bad vibes from Leliana in that regard. He actually feels safer when she’s around.

Sera ★ ★ ☆ ☆ ☆

Okay, Sera and Kaaras DO get along, but it’s mostly because Kaaras tends to roll his eyes and say some stupid pun or something so she doesn’t throw a hissy fit. He understands where she is coming from, trying to lighten everyone up, which is why he didn’t always mind when she’s throwing pranks, but he often doesn’t approve of them either. He finds her to be incredibly immature and sometimes a downright child and a pain in the arse. She doesn’t want to listen to reason, which makes him frustrated, but he also doesn’t want them to be enemies. So… they have a bit of a middle ground.

Kaaras is also one of those little people that Sera talks about. He understands exactly the people she is sticking up for, but that doesn’t mean it’s okay to be rude all the time and play pranks on important people. Here and there, okay, he’ll let her do some, but he’s also not about to let her have run of the place. She needs to realise that the Inquisition is there for an important reasons, and saving the world SOMETIMES means you need to be serious. Even if she’ll poke her tongue out at him and call him a fart or something.

But hey, they do share cookies on the roof. :)

Solas ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ 

This… one cuts me deep. Solas and Kaaras are very good friends. Solas had been there from the start with Kaaras and the Inquisition, and that’s so important to Kaaras. Solas taught him A LOT, and yes, while Solas tends to think qunari are savage beasts, Kaaras never really argued with that. Because deep down, Kaaras thinks the Qun is a terrible place to be, and so he part way agrees. Many Tal-Vashoth are also turned to savages, which Kaaras can’t even deny, because it’s true. There are a lot of Tal-Vashoth who end up running wild and killing innocent people. That doesn’t mean they’re all terrible, but Kaaras isn’t going to deny that they do make his race look shitty as a whole, and the Qun doesn’t help. Kaaras is actually incredibly racist towards his own species, and while he doesn’t MEAN to me, it’s very deep seeded into him from his childhood and everyone being so racist to him, so he just sits there and goes yeah… where’s the lie? But he also wants to overcome it so badly, too, because he wants to also prove that he’s NOT like that, that not ALL qunari are savages, but sometimes he can’t help but believe deep down that they (and HIMSELF) are. And that’s fucking painful for me to think about.

Kaaras TRUSTED Solas, and tbh he still DOES??? And that bothers me. He’s always been so much more patient with Solas than I have, and I woulda decked the fuck out of him, instead, Kaaras tries to REDEEM him, because he is a FRIEND, and he still IS to Kaaras. He respects Solas, and tries to understand him, because in the bottom of his heart, he truly believes that Solas was and still can be a good person. He also thinks that those tales of Fen’Harel are very important and can see the good in Solas’ actions and what he had tried to do for his people. He admires him greatly, but he WILL prove to Solas that this world is worth it, even if he dies in doing so.

Varric ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆

Varric and Kaaras definitely get along, and because the both of them love stories and telling stories, they often share them around camp. He highly encourages Varric with his tales, even if some of them are total bullshit. A story is meant to inspire, to question, and Varric does all of that, and that’s what Kaaras loves about it.

Varric is actually an incredibly encouraging friend himself, and when Kaaras is in need of some time to himself, Varric is often one of the first people to realise that the Inquisitor needs a break, so he ushers people off and out or he encourages Kaaras to play some games and have a drink so he can relax. They don’t sit there and tell each other their most darkest secrets, but they definitely quietly encourage each other. :) Also, Kaaras is a super fucking fan of Varric’s writing >///<

Vivienne ★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆

These two DEFINITELY bump heads at the start, but by the end, they surprisingly get along VERY well. I think it helps, for Vivienne, that Kaaras is a very strong morally run person, he’s also a mage and believes in their rights but also their powers, and he has a touch of fashion sense. Oh, they’re both also Knight Enchanters.

They definitely have their disagreements, especially on how Circles should be run. Also, Kaaras can see how manipulative Vivienne is and gets the feeling that she wants everything HER way and will do just about anything to possess that power–which isn’t right or morally correct. So that is something he really doesn’t like in Viv, but their banter is actually quite amusing, and Vivienne shows her concerns multiple times for the Inquisitor and in more subtle ways shows her respects to him as well. It’s kind of sweet, really.

BONUS

Warden + Hawke ★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆ - ♥

For both, Kaaras highly respects and even has a bit of a hero crush on both of them. Depending entirely on the choices Hawke or the Warden made, he would look up to and respect them greatly, even in a sense worship them. But he definitely has a fanboyish crush on them both--certainly if they have moral standards. 

They are getting docked points, however, because Kaaras hasn’t gotten to meet the Hero in person, and he only briefly got to speak with Hawke. 

tagged by: @inquisitorataashi

[heartslogos]

newfragile yellow [5]

“Are you sure you aren’t coming?” Bull asks, feeling a little desperate and a lot resigned as he slowly buttons up his shirt.

“It could only be a disappointment,” Lavellan says, flicking through the magazine on their bed, “I don’t look nearly as tortured or anguished - or as beautiful while being those things - in real life as I do in your sketches.” Lavellan’s voice warms, “I matter.”

“Of course you matter,” Bull says, picking up his tie off the bathroom counter. “I wouldn’t have stuck around this long if you didn’t.”

“Not that,” Lavellan snorts, “I meant - you told me that you only draw the things that stay with you. The things that linger in you, that make you. The private things that don’t die. You only draw and paint those things because for your work at the paper you photograph all the things you want to get rid of and all the things you want no one else to forget; but when you sketch and paint you’re bringing out the things no one else could ever see and the things you could never unsee.”

It didn’t sound nearly a fourth as poetic as how she said it just now.

“You matter,” Bull says, throwing the tie back onto the counter. It’s too formal and no one expects that shit from him. He leaves the bathroom, flicking the light off. “And I’m sorry that Leliana put all that out there without asking either of us.”

“I told you I don’t mind. That’s what happens when you suddenly disappear into the ether without warning your editor or your partner. The editor breaks into your office to see if there’s any trace of you to find out if you’re dead or not while the partner gives her free reign to do so.” Lavellan says, looking up at him, ankles crossed in the air as she turns another glossy page. “You look formal. Disgusting. You’ve had better looks. Personally, I happen to like the look where you’ve found choice gossip with Josephine. It takes years off of you.”

“Years that you put on me,” Bull sits down on the bed, looking over her shoulder at a picture of one of his sketches of her. Lavellan is sitting on the same bed, feet planted on the ground, head bowed down and staring at her hand. The faint outline of clothes are on the floor. It’s captioned Grief is Solitary.

Bull didn’t name it. He didn’t name any of them.

“When was this?” She asks, pointing at it.

“Dorian’s welcome back dinner at the university,” Bull answers instantly, “You didn’t want my help getting dressed. In fact you kicked me out of the room. It’s the stockings that got you. You managed the hair and the buttons on the back of the dress, but it was the stockings that got you stuck.”

Lavellan’s fingers trace the edges of the pages and she turns.

“And this?”

A faint sketch of Lavellan, back mostly turned, holding her prosthetic - Leliana had it captioned Splinter Cell.

“The first one Dagna sent you,” He answers, leaning close to her. Lavellan rolls towards him, bringing the magazine with her.

Lavellan is silent and Bull reaches out to slide his hand over her back, feeling the complex shift of bone and muscle underneath his palm as she keeps her balance on one elbow.

“And this?” Her voice is soft and Bull angles his head a bit as she turns the next page. “I don’t think I ever looked this peaceful then. Or now.”

Lavellan, asleep done in oils.

Bull bends down and rests his head against hers.

“Because you weren’t,” He says. “You were crying the night before. You wouldn’t calm down - nothing I said or did would get you to calm down or talk to me. I was tired and I didn’t know what the fuck else to do so I called Cullen and I didn’t even know what to say. But he heard you in the background and put his dogs on the phone for the rest of the night. You fell asleep that way. Just listening to his dogs.”

Lavellan leans into him.

“I’m sorry,” She says again.

“Then come with me to this stupid opening,” He says into her hair and she laughs and rolls into him, shoulder pushing into his chest.

“I’m not that sorry. Wear the tie. The floral one. Eat all the finger foods for me.”

-

“I don’t think I can have another cat, Leliana,” Cullen says as Leliana opens the cat carrier on his floor. “I’m not even good with cats.”

“Nonsense,” Leliana says, smiling a little as the cat pokes her head out of the carrier. She’s beautiful. Not a kitten but not quite fully grown, either. “You do so well with Bull.”

“Bull was Josephine’s first,” Cullen points out, “And he’s practically a person.”

Last Cullen saw, Bull was sitting in the high chair his sister leaves in his kitchen for when she leaves her kids with him. Bull was staring at him with his one eye and silently willing Cullen to cave and give him extra breakfast. He doesn’t know how Bull got in the chair because Cullen certainly didn’t put him there.

Cullen still isn’t convinced that Bull is some kind of stunted or mixed breed mountain lion or some other sort of wild cat. He’s just so big.

“What if Blackwall doesn’t like her? She’s been doing well with you so far.”

The cat has left the carrier and is exploring the contents of Cullen’s coffee table, tail aloft and slightly curled, ears perked.

“Blackwall does nothing but brood and wait by your door,” Leliana snorts. At the sound of his name, the dog’s ears prick towards them and then away as he continues to stare out of Cullen’s front window.

No one is quite certain what Blackwall is listening for, but whatever it is, he’s ready for it.

“Besides, Lavellan doesn’t like me.” Leliana bends down and holds out her loosely curled hand towards the cat. The cat stares at her hand and crouches down. “She gets along with Cassandra and as patient as Cassandra is, she doesn’t have the energy for this one.”

Cullen imagines the German Shepherd and the Lavellan and immediately understands. Cassandra isn’t exactly the most patient dog - a good dog, yes, a kind dog, yes, a brave dog, certainly. Patient and gentle? Not so much when repeatedly poked by a curious and young kitten.

“She doesn’t like Vivienne, so Josephine can’t keep her,” Leliana says.

Cullen sighs and tentatively holds out his hand towards her, “And what if she doesn’t like me?”

Lavellan’s tail twitches but she comes over to him and starts to nose and nuzzle at his hand, letting out a plaintive muriao!

“I don’t think that’s going to be a problem,” Leliana says as Lavellan immediately bypasses his hand entirely and starts to rub against his shins. Cullen picks her up and she stretches her legs and paws, mewing and twisting in his hands to curl into his arms exactly how she wants after a good stretch.

Cullen resigns himself to another cat.

“What if the Bull doesn’t like her?” Cullen asks.

Leliana snorts, “The Bull likes all women.”

As if summoned by the mention of his name in the same sentence as women, the Bull pads into the living room - a solid mass of fur and muscle and fat that Cullen doesn’t have the heart to try and reduce because for one thing he’s pretty certain Bull is hunting half his meals - Cullen isn’t feeding him that much to make him so large - and because the veterinarians give him a clean bill of health every time. Bull climbs onto the sofa and starts nosing at Leliana’s hand, deep rumbling car engine of a purr emanating from his chest as Leliana laughs and begins to pet him.

The couch cushion sinks a little - a lot - with the Bull’s weight. Honestly, there has to be something in there - lynx, mountain lion, cougar. Something. No house cat should be that large.

Lavellan squirms out of Cullen’s hands before he can stop her and goes up to Bull, pushing at him with her paw and letting out a high pitched miaor!

The Bull turns around and stares at her, then turns his eye onto Cullen as if to ask is this for real? Lavellan bats at Bull’s tail and continues to mew at him. Bull’s purring stops.

Leliana and Cullen stare at the two cats.

Lavellan crouches down low, ears pricked forward. Bull half-rises, ears pricked back.

Lavellan doesn’t stand a chance if Bull pounces.

Lavellan slowly stretches out a paw and pushes against Bull’s hind quarters and mews again.

Bull’s ears and tail relax and he turns around, offering his face to her. Lavellan pushes her face against his and purrs.

“Problem solved,” Leliana says as they both let out a deep sigh of relief. “She’s yours now. Congratulations on another cat. They have healing powers, you know.”

“You’ve said,” Cullen laughs a little as Lavellan begins to try and goad Bull into a tussle. Bull lies down and ignores her. “I was planning a nice day in, and now I’m going to have to go and buy more cat supplies, aren’t I?”

“Such is the life of a cat parent,” Leliana says standing and picking up the cat carrier. “It never ends.”