#revasaen

[ruiiins-blog]

     He kept from large establishments, strayed from too many eyes, for he was a sore sight in any sort of landscape, and could draw unbidden attention far too easily. The outskirts is where he felt more natural, away from constant interaction and wandering gazes. He was too tall to bow and keep out of sight, too wild to be expected to behave, and far too raw to keep himself in check during this time. Too soon. His freedom, by his own hands, had come far too soon. The bandits who had taken him for someone simple and quiet lay about his figure in a scorched ring, three in total, and not one spared to tell the tale of the horrendous creature they had engaged in the act. He was knelt down beside one, hands rummaging for whatever he could find--never had he a need for currency, his arvaarad had provided all for him. He did not anticipate company, and certainly did not anticipate to be caught in such a scene. Slowly he looked up, his actions freezing as his attention fixed on the elf.                 “There is no problem here.” He wished to diffuse the situation, to have the other gone on his way and pay no heed to the remnant of magic that still crackled across the earth.

revasaen

[unsupernal-blog]

❝ & revasaen. ❞

   the events of  the fade had taken a toll on every last one of them, and though they were now surrounded by the massive walls of skyhold’s keep, none of them could truly claim to feel safe. protected. at ease. fears had come to life before their very eyes, courtesy of the demon that had held them captive on the other side ( one that went by the name of ‘nightmare’ --- how terribly suiting that had been! ). fears had been used to taunt them, weaken them. and by the end of it all, their count had gone down by one. hawke, champion of kirkwall, had been lost to the demon’s clutches, to the fade. the champion had stayed, weapon raised, content to face the demon and its cohorts so that the inquisitor and her company might escape instead. and now, those close to the champion had to be informed. one such person being fenris.

   had he not found his way to skyhold himself, varric might very well have wrote him a letter detailing the champion’s death. but he had found his way,  ( and he was just over there, sitting on a stone bench in the courtyard ), and that made informing him of his loss all the more difficult.

   her mouth is dry. she swallows, draws nearer, pipes up with a simple vocalization of his name:

    ❝ --------- fenris? ❞

[spireborn]

        ` YOUR SHACKLES STILL bind you, even now. you’re haunted. `

[unbowedpride-blog]

          ❝ FENRIS. I, uh, I wanted to apologize. For what I said the other day.           about the... tattoo thing. That was tactless. ❞