#whatever. conclave sweep

[akihikosanada]

spending the days before the oscars watching the last few movies i intended to watch. mainly i watched the wild robot on friday and wicked a few hours ago. i only have flow left to go and i'll be able to judge the oscars to my heart's content lmao

[seepweed]

tag game time!

thank you for the tag @kluntjekandis!!! <33

what's the origin of your blog title? my blog title is currently "#1 certhia fan". certhia is the genus of bird that includes the treecreepers (aka baumläufer). the images below are all show treecreepers. i am simply a huge fan :>

2. what's your favourite colour? yellow/orange! 🟡🟧

3. what's a song struck inside your head? "There is Trouble" by The Taxpayers

4. what's your weirdest habit? i honestly don't know. 🤔 maybe the fact that i chew on my hoodies. (i know that's a bit disgusting but it's also weirdly nice?!)

5. what are your hobbies? i do theatre and i write. i like going out and enjoying life and seeing things that amaze me :-)

6. what is your otp and what is their shipname? ok i'm going to be pretentious and name my own characters from my own stories 😂: Heather x Laetizia (from memoirs), Marlin x Leslie (from Plenty of Fish) and Thérèse x Marea (from 37,5°C)

7. what's your profession? UNEMPLOYED SWEEP! (i'm currently bullshitting my way into university to acquire a biology degree🌞)

8. if you could have any job you wish, what would it be? any research position tbh. obviously i'd be interested in biology but i'd also take chemistry and mathmatics :D

9. what's something you're good at? REVERSE PARKING!!

10. what's something you hate? Friedrich Merz.

11. what's something you collect? rubber ducks, stamps and postcards (Specifically Inge Löök's old lesbians series!!!)

12. what's something you forget often? specific past-participles in french ):

13. what's your love language? i don't know what that is or how that works, sorry )-: but what i can say is that i love 🫵 YOU! :D

14. what's your favourite movie/tv show? unstoppable, blue planet 2, and obviously whatever i'm posting about all the time: M*A*S*H, iwtv, house md, conclave to name a few :3

15. what's your favourite food? grünkohl mit pinkel 😂🥬🍗

16. what's your favourite animal? again, i'm the #1 certhia fan, but i've also named myself after the genus Mastigoteuthis, so i'll go with m. agassizii

17. what were you like as a child? i had no friends and talked about antiprisms a lot. #there were no signs

18. favourite subject at school? chemistry

19. least favourite subject at school? sport. religion. french (IRONIC ISN'T IT?).

20. what's your best character trait? i'm optimistic

21. what's your worst character trait? i avoid conflict like the plague <3

22. if you could change a detail about your life right now, what would it be? i'd transition.

23. if you could travel in time, who would you like to meet? tough question! i'd love to meet people from very long ago: the neolithic or the european dark ages - common folk and world leaders alike, history is fascinating!

thank you for the tag again jule :3 i'm tagging @boozytiramisu @platonickit @cataclysmic-entity @cozybearz @yaycreamymancakes @p0stscripter @danishphoner @stripedroxy @cuddleswinchester and anyone who wants to!!!

[werebatzsblog]

my biggest issue with the oscar noms isn’t even that emilie perez was a bad movie or whatever bcuz i haven’t seen it (and don’t super plan on seeing it) but both that film AND the brutalist got called out for using ai.

u know what beautiful princess baby DIDNT use ai? conclave. conclave nosferatu wild robot sweep 2025 please dear god

[adainesjacket]

happy friday!! For dadwc, I saw you were asking for DAI AUs - and since you have twins, I present: what if Viola had been the one to stumble out of the Fade, and Seong was the one missing? How would their story & the Inquisition overall change?

oh i'm SO glad you asked this, i have a whole reverse!au in my head for seong and viola! @dadrunkwriting

⊹˚₊‧───────────‧₊˚⊹

"Did you know you're dead?" Leliana asked casually.

Viola, with a nervous laugh, tried not to let her hand go to the staff on her back. Entering Leliana's tent was always a guarantee for an unsettling conversation. "Are you going to make it look like an accident?"

A rare flash of Leliana's razor-sharp smile calmed her, a little.

"Do I need to?" Leliana asked, then shook her head before Viola could answer. "Here, look at this. It just came across my desk, so to speak," she added, gesturing as if to their scant resources in Haven.

Viola had seen too many of these already. Lists of the dead, memorials hastily written for Circle mages that had perished in the conflicts before the conclave. This one was for the Starkhaven Circle, which had burned down a year ago. She'd known no-one there, and so looked up with a quizzical eye.

"Read it," Leliana instructed. "The last few names."

Viola saw it the second time; her own name, printed in black ink at the end of the list.

Viola Trevelyan, Junior Enchanter. Twenty-six years old.

"Is this some kind of sick joke?" Viola asked, her voice wavering. "I've never even been to the Starkhaven Circle. I'm not sure I've ever been to Starkhaven - once maybe, as a child?"

"Clerical error?" Leliana suggested. "Whatever it is, it's been out there for almost a year. I came across it in the search for your brother."

"Have you heard any-" Viola stopped short, and felt a rush of cold sweep over her as she realised something terrible. "Shit. Do you think he's seen this?"

Leliana paused, delicately, before replying. "If he was as dedicated to finding you as you have been to him… I think it very unlikely that this would have escaped his notice."

A month later, delivered to the desk of Herald Viola Trevelyan:

Thanks to the distraction provided by Inquisition scouts, the Chargers were able to get into Therinfal Redoubt. It's largely deserted, but there are clear signs that the templars joined a much greater force. We found a refined form of lyrium and a large number of templar corpses.

Cole slipped through the halls of Therinfal as light and silent as a ghost. He was used to being hunted, but this time he was hunting; the strange presence that killed almost as quietly as he did, but not nearly as neatly. Templar blood painted the walls, and though the building was as silent as the grave, the ether was thick and loud with crying. It made Cole's head hurt. He wanted to run. He wanted to help.

The man was slumped against a wall when Cole found him. He was dressed in clothes that had once been bright and clean, made for performing, but now were tattered and bloodstained. He wore a black mask on the lower half of his face, and his long black hair shadowed the rest of it. He was silent. He was the loudest thing Cole had ever heard.

The bodies. Piled up like the carcasses of animals, black and weeping with blood. She could have been any one of them. My fault, my sister, got there too late, too late…

Cole was assaulted by visions; a woman, a mage with the same face as the stranger's. She was wading in a shallow creek, laughing and teasing, then in the next moment she was locked away behind stone walls and shields.

"It wasn't your fault," Cole said softly, sliding down the wall to sit beside him. "You were just a child too. You couldn't stop them taking her."

The man started, looking up at Cole with wild eyes and a dagger clenched too-tight in his fist. "Who are you?"

"I'm here to help," Cole said. "You carry so much hurt. It's so loud. Your mind can't take the weight any more, can it? It's bent, but not broken. Not yet. Please let me help."

The man laughed. It wasn't a joyous sound, but it betrayed that his voice had once been beautiful.

"All I want is to kill Templars," the stranger said. "Every last one of them. Can you help with that?"

Cole looked at the bodies of Seekers and Templars littering the floor; some with their throats cut neatly, others drenched in blood. He produced his own dagger and held it out in front of him, as carefully as one would approach an injured animal in the forest. It was still dripping with the blood of the last Templar Cole had killed, a man who had taken great joy in duty.

"Yes," Cole said, and held out his free hand for the stranger to take. "Yes, I can. I'm Cole. What is your name?"

The stranger allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. A frown crossed his face. "I don't remember," he said. "You can call me Shrike. Someone used to."

"Your sister," Cole asked. "The one the Templars took. Do you remember her name?"

Shrike's grip on the dagger turned his knuckles white, and his eyes, which once must have been a lovely, hazy blue, darkened under the weight of his scowl. "Viola," he said. "Her name was Viola."

[kittendreamsofmurder]

We watched a good portion of the Oscars last night (I think it got cut off whatever channel we were watching at 9pm). Here are my unsolicited thoughts:

Overall, I was just so relieved that Emilia Perez didn't sweep a bunch of wins (it shouldn't have won anything - but I am happy for Zoe Saldana!) Also glad that Wicked didn't sweep everything either.

I did love Anora and was happy for Mikey Madison's win but I kinda feel like Sean Baker didn't really deserve 4 awards?? *love that he thanked the Sex Worker community tho*

idgaf about Dune Two

Kinda feel like the Substance deserved more. Also shocked that Nosferatu didn't win anything.

I was very happy to see some wins for non-US countries like Latvia, Brazil, and Iran!

Still annoyed that BIPOC so rarely win anything. BUT - Paul Tazewell - first African American man to win for Costume Design! Hell yes!

Emilia Perez winning best original song is offensive to people who have ears.

I need to see Conclave.

That French lady singing until the music played her off was absolutely The Worst.

.

Update: I forgot that a film by a Palestinian-Israeli collective won an award! And their speech was amazing. I found part of the speech so I could quote it correctly: ""Can't you see that we are intertwined? That my people can be truly safe if Basel's people are truly free and safe? There is another way." 👏👏👏

[spainkitty]

WIP WEDNESDAY

Chapter 2: The course is but run, and end has begun

Finally, her wisp's light began to refract against something moving. At first it looked like slithering. She and Dorian recoiled sharply before they noticed the rhythm of it. The ebb and flow. The sloshing against stone and wood.

“… that’s a dock,” Lanil said, breathless and her own dread and suspicions mounting. “Dorian, you said the amulet shouldn’t have moved us through space, only time?”

“Yes, but obviously something has—”

“No, no, you were right. Maker’s breath, you were right,” Lanil said. She all but fell on her ass to back away rapidly and incidentally dragging Dorian with her before sidling out of his grip. She spun in a circle with new eyes. The crater was massive, the pit nearly as large. The blackened rubble and the huge tree and there—a twisted mess of iron and wood that once had been a portcullis.

“Surana?”

“Redcliffe Castle has a dock, Pavus. A dock built underneath the castle,” Lanil said, fury and something deeper than fear running through every word. Dorian’s eyes widened.

“Yes, Felix brought me… You can’t mean that this is Redcliffe Castle!?” Dorian asked, sweeping his arm out.

Lanil ignored her heaving stomach, the constant song thrumming against her skull, the unsteadiness of her legs. She ran for the ledge, skirting the pit and the lyrium with shudders running down her spine. The sides of the crater were near a foot over her head, probably about level with Dorian’s height. She scrabbled up them, fingernails digging into dirt, her thin slippers sliding and slipping, pebbles and dust raining down into Dorian’s face when he followed her. She hauled herself over the edge, wheezing and cursing, vision spotting again, and saw the large, glassy, Fade-green surface of Lake Calahad and the mountains of Ferelden’s Hinterlands beyond.

“Fuck,” she hissed.

Dorian came up beside her, coughing slightly and brushing dirt from his clothes absently as he stared into the Hinterlands. What was left of it. Huge swathes of forest were replaced by blackened earth and large, glowing, red lyrium. The village on the opposite shore was in shambles and eerily silent, although it wasn't nearly the decimation at her back. The only movement among the rubble and few standing houses was the wind. And the rippling veins of light along the lyrium’s surfaces. Dorian and Lanil exchanged a loaded glance before heading towards where the broken bridge lay.

Getting from where the castle had been to the other shore across the lake was more time- and mana-consuming than difficult. The bridge between the shore and the castle had been destroyed when Alexius kicked out the arl, but there was more than enough debris in the water to fill in the gap. They had to clamber a bit, and the lowest part of their makeshift bridge was nearly under water, but they made it. Now on the other side, Lanil took in the details of the village’s ruin. Almost every building was dilapidated, whole walls missing, roofs caved in, shutters hanging from mere splinters. Huge stone blocks with traces of soot were lying like forgotten toys in the grass, and there were several gaping holes in the sides of buildings where more rubble had flown through. Lanil knelt beside one such chunk of stone, fingertips darkening when she touched it.

“This definitely came from the castle,” she said, frowning.

“Which means whatever destroyed it, it exploded outward,” Dorian surmised.

“Is this as bad as the Conclave? Did whatever happen then happen again?” Lanil asked, brushing her fingers clean on her robes.

“I didn't see it the aftermath with my own eyes, but it would explain why the sky is… like that.”

They both looked up reflexively and shuddered. Lanil could smell the Fade. It pervaded every one of her senses, almost as overpowering as the stench of the rotting fields and worse things left behind in these deserted homes.

Before they gone much farther, Lanil knew the entirety of Redcliffe was empty.

[imaginaryanon]

ohhh this goes crazy. CRAZY. i had the same experience as you, bestie; just fully locked the fuck in before the title card even hit. like i was immediately going oh this is a GOOD good movie. aight!! okay!!!! and. yeah. it was. & while i also don't care about the oscars (lowkey despise them in fact) i need this to sweep so badly. it's Personal

surprising no one i am kissing the entire production on the mouth holy fucking god. i kept wanting to pause to just, get to look at all the shots longer. every frame a painting every frame a photograph i'd love to see in an art gallery let's FUCKING go. (also: an incredible movie for enjoyers of colour red, obviously. fuck the church but they really did go off with the aesthetics and outfits ngl)

and the use of those sharp little musical themes,,, the music feels SO sparse in the movie but it pops off exactly when it needs to. not a single note out of place. just adding fun little accents to it exactly where they'll land best. usually i like a soundtrack to be a LOT more present in a movie but here it just. worked so incredibly well. 11/10 no notes

kind of a masterclass of "show not tell" also imo. To Me. i feel like a lot of media these days insists on Slowly And Carefully Explaining Everything or taking an additional fucking. hour. just to make sure everything is 300% clear and described and understood. but here? no. you are going to watch mr Fiennes go on a face journey (and/or a hand journey even) and you will Get It. (nkjfhjdk prev bestie the fact that you got hit with the bad subtitle curse this time 'round and yet the scenes still landed even when in foreign languages,,, like that's something. that's impressive)

ANYWAY. my very first though/comment i wrote down as i was watching was actually, and i quote, "JANUSZ,,,, POLAND MENTION!!!!!!!!" love the polish representation being a guy who's 1. religious and 2. has a drinking problem. i wish i could be mad about it but unfortunately i just think it's right and also funny

ANYWAY (yes this is my second capitalised anyway. that's just bc this movie genuinely made me feel insane) 1. this is a comedy, to me 2. god. Thomas Lawrence's terrible no good very bad day(s). actually you know what. this is exactly what it feels like to be Important At Work. this is an average day at the office. dean Lawrence bestie i see you i know Exactly what that's like

i expected a whole bunch of stuff, going by the gifsets & memes people have been putting on my dash. i would NOT in a million billion years have expected to TEAR UP at the ending. me? crying at the pope thriller-comedy? fuck off. ohhhh fuck off so badly (complimentary). last ~15 minutes of Conclave i did not expect a single thing about you and you are everything to me!!!! hooooly fuck. deadass how dare a movie about the catholic church do this to me--

i'm like. furious, actually, that i didn't get to catch a screening of this. that by the time my dash started going insane about this movie it was already two months out of the cinemas. this would've been SO Cinema-Worthy fr

anyway. white-knuckling whatever remains of my reason and sanity these days as i try not to pick blorbos from among fucking. fictional catholic church cardinals. & i'm not gonna do it. but you already know what's up

what if the man who ended up being chosen as pope thought that you were the only person worthy of being pope. what if the previous pope whom you've always looked to for guidance saw you as nothing but a manager whose faith and religious importance were near-insignificant but the new one sees you as an equal,,, you people were NOT kidding huh

anyway prev bestie you are SO right abt everything, as always,. & i think this is both my fave movie so far & my fave review of yours <3 also "intersex pope" WOULD go crazy as a band name. i can't stop thinking about it

🍿 movie knights week five ⚔️

conclave (2024)

my entirely arbitrary rating based on nothing:

4.8 out of 5 ⭐️

ooooh girl… spoilers below

real talk, i have not been so instantly engaged by a film in a long time—before we even got the title screen, the sharp instrumentals and gorgeous, closeup angles had me LOCKED IN.

DISCLAIMER: this reviewer was raised extremely roman catholic. like “daily mass + weekly confession + was an altar server + went to summer camp run by nuns (which is its own post entirely) + L + ratio” roman catholic. i have not however attended mass in several years (to the deep regret of my mother), so my papal lore was a lil rusty going in. i WILL say though that hearing the mass in latin activated some kind of sleeper agent in my head that made me crave the smell of incense ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

1) literally every value of production here was off the chain: production design, cinematography, acting, score, costume, direction… the oscars mean nothing to me however. i hope they fuckin SWEEP

2) when lawrence told adeyemi that due to the scandal he would never be pope, theo yelled “POPE NOPE” & that was basically the resounding theme every time a prospective pope got noped

3) our ~legally acquired stream~ purported to have subtitles, but for the life of me i could not get them to work, and missed most of the italian and spanish dialogue. the acting was excellent and the tone clear enough that i was able to grasp the gist of it, but i plan on rewatching ASAP with correct subtitles! in the meantime, here’s the screenplay if anyone else had the same issue 🫶

4) i have seen a few posts about it, but want to reiterate the choice to focus on the work done by the sisters to keep the entire vatican running smoothly (both during the conclave, and outside of it). i won’t get into the giant can of worms that is gender roles & women in the modern catholic church (not enough fuckin hours for that), BUT i deeply appreciated the constant presence of nuns doing all the manual labour in the background. and isabella rossellini as sister agnes killed it!! the moment with the photocopier visually drove home the fact that even lawrence—the dean of the entire vatican!—was not savvy to the daily minutiae of running a household or office, and required the sisters’ assistance to literally make paper copies

5) some IRL catholics are BIG mad about the portrayal of the vatican conclave as a pack of double-crossing, tea-spilling, messy fuckass bitches—which of course confirms to me that the depiction is fairly accurate!!! looking forward to reading the book as well, since i’ve heard that certain aspects are even better fleshed out

6) fun little nod for all my polar exploration fans: conclave director edward berger also directed episodes 1, 2, and 4 of the terror, and hoo boy did his distinctive style absolutely VIBE here. apologies to theo & our housemate, because i kept hooting and hollering my way through shots like this one:

juxtaposed with this shot from episode 2 of the terror (“gore”):

7) has anyone made an edit set to sophie hunter’s CVNT and if so, can you please link me posthaste 🙏 i simply cannot get back into video editing right now but i desperately need it to exist. all these petty old men thinking they ate…

8) “intersex pope” would be a great band name

9) i am desperate to know what the retired irish priest from my hometown church would think—he once paused in the middle of a homily to state that women should be able to become priests, and the church needed to change or stagnate. father kelly if you’re still out there, i think you’d fucking love this film 🫶

⚔️ theo says: “it was well done, competent, beautifully shot, good performances. Just seemed a bit pointless to me lol, like why is this story being told”

🍿 big thanks to @cannibalspicnic who said “the vibe made me think of you” 🫶 and @copperphysics106 who also recommended!! ✨ next week, we’re doing a ralph fiennes double feature and watching the grand budapest hotel

[gale-gentlepenguin]

ML Fic: Soulmate Survey Part 37

Shout out to @asongeverlasting for beta reading for me and making sure I actually got this out.

Check her writing out on AO3 as Ramblingwren

(Master post)

(Read the fic in a more condensed on Ao3)

(The latest chapter will be up on there once this reaches over 300 notes on tumblr)

_____________________________________________________________

Simularé looked out over the city from the top of the school.  Using her replicated powers, she took the form of Volpina so they'd be able to alter the illusion quickly should something pop out and accidentally reveal the true form of the school. Thankfully the sentimonster didn’t need to do much in order to maintain the illusion; Paris was a surprisingly quiet city.

As far as they could tell, no one in the city outside of the school had any idea what was going on. And that worked out perfectly for them.

“So, this is where Lila has you stationed,” a voice called out, resulting in the faux fox turning around. The figure behind them was a woman clad in dark blue, with blue skin and a feathery fan. She looked confident and the sentimonster instinctively felt that this individual was very much aware of what it was.

Mayura had quickly deduced it was the sentimonster as it was in Lila’s previous akuma form, Volpina. With Lila now Masquerade, it was unlikely she would choose to take such a form. She would likely want to stay in her new form to show it off.

“Do not be alarmed, Simularé, it is your creator. Mayura,” Mayura spoke again.

The shapeshifter leveled a sharp glare at the woman. What made her so certain of that?

“How do I know that is true?” Simularé questioned.

The villainess took a moment to examine the sentimonster. Mayura had to admit that this sentimonster was her finest work to date. The amount of emotion harnessed from Lila to create it made it far more unique, much less of a mindless creature than her previous creations. Amoks were created much like akuma were, locking on to intense emotions before sending off. But unlike akuma, amok can be shaped and tailored with enough focus. Simularé was a special case, as it was made from the conclave of emotions that Lila was experiencing during her breakdown. It had been quite difficult to focus on one specific feeling but Mayura had pushed through. Simularé was sculpted to be Lila’s ideal ally, but it was also so much more than a simple asset. This Amok embodied Lila’s core personality. Her cleverness, her cunning, her mistrust of others, her playfulness, her pride and so much more. To put it simply, this Sentimonster was Lila’s spirit given a new form.

“Trust me Simularé, you would be best not to ask that,” Mayura warned.

The sentimonster felt as if it was being talked down to and clearly did not approve of anyone talking to them in such a tone, save for its master. It charged at the peacock villainess, ready to make contact, But, before it could get close, Mayura stuck out her hand and pinched her fingers together, causing the sentimonster to feel as if some force was pulling its essence out. The pain it felt was indescribable! It felt as if its very being was being ripped out. Mayura was in range to sense the Amok and could easily remove it without difficulty, much like Hawkmoth could with an akuma. Though Mayura had a feeling that letting the Sentimonster know that keeping her out of range of the item was the key to its survival would not be wise. It was best in this moment to display power.

“Stop! Please!” Simularé begged. “I … I believe you! I will do whatever you ask, just please stop the pain!”

The villainess smiled, it seemed there was even more to this Sentimonster than Mayura had anticipated. It had a powerful sense of self preservation, something controlled sentimonsters didn’t seem to have. She took note of that.

“Good. Now, you are going to explain to me your master’s end goal and where Ladybug and Chat Noir are in the building.”

Simularé felt the grip that Mayura had on its essence and held back its burning resentment towards the blue bird villainess. She would behave. For now.

“Okay… I will tell you everything.”

_____________________________________________________________

“Duck!” Ladyice called out as she had Ice Noir lower their bodies to avoid oncoming ice projectiles.

“Surprising that she's only attacking us with ice. She's Stormy weather. You'd think she would be attacking with more, maybe some rain or like a vol....” Ice Noir commented.

“Don't talk about that! Do not give her any ideas!”

The two had skated out of the room and made their way through the now icy hallway while Stormy Weather gave chase.

“I was just saying it seems weird how...mediocre her attacks are.

“It’s like we saw before, the akuma servants are like robots, they can’t react quickly so changing up her powers is likely just as much of a problem. She's probably not as dangerous as we initially thought.”

“So maybe we should face this problem head on now that we aren’t cornered?”

Ice Noir changed direction and began skating towards the umbrella-wielding akuma.

Stormy Weather noticed the approaching cat and raised her umbrella, creating a mighty gale to blow him back and ending him flying past Ladyice to the end of the hallway.

“She can use her other powers… can confirm,” Ice noir commented as he got off the wall, still dazed.

Ladyice skated up to the dazed cat and helped stabilize him. Despite seeming like a wasted effort, the cat’s brash antics actually inspired Ladyice with a way to take her out.

“I just figured out how we can stop her, think you can give her one last charge for me?”

“Why Bugaboo, asking me to rush headfirst into danger? How heartless.” He feigned hurt.

Ladybug rolled her eyes.

“Silly Kitty. Just be ready to hang in there when she blasts you with wind. Don’t get blown back this time.”

“Got it.”

Ice Noir quickly skated across the ice as he drew his weapon. He was ready for her this time.

“Hey breezy weezy! The weather today was supposed to be sunny with a 20% chance of raining Cats and Dogs!” Ice Noir called out, clearly happy with his lame joke.

Stormy Weather saw the cat approaching once again and prepared to send another wind blast at him.

But the cat was prepared this time around and extended his staff to anchor himself to the walls on either side.

“Nice try!” Ice Noir snarked. “But a small little puff of wind won't blow me back again.”

The storm akuma decided instead of creating just another wind blast, she was going to step it up with a cyclone attack! A powerful tornado tunnel would surely blast the cat down for good.

“We were wrong! She can amp up the power too!” Ice Noir exclaimed as he held onto his staff with all his might while his body was being blown back by the massive winds. “This was not well thought out!”

He focused on digging his claws into his staff and doing his best to remain in the wind tunnel. The powerful winds blew into his face and he could see Stormy Weather slowly approaching.

“I don’t think I can hold on much longer, Ladyice!”

He felt his grip slipping. Any second now, he was going to get blown back.

“Don’t worry, Kitty. I got this.”

Stormy Weather didn’t get a chance to react when she felt something tackle her full force and rush her into the wall on the opposite end of the hallway.

The wind died down and Ice Noir was able to land on his skates. He released his grip on his staff and fixed his windblown hair to resemble its original state before quickly skating down the hall to help his partner.

“Nice job, Ladyice.”

The red-clad heroine stood up from her grapple with the storm akuma.

“Actually…”

Ice Noir looked up to see that his partner had shifted power ups. Her skates and ice skater aesthetic were replaced with a suit that had red spacesuit-like plating, a jetpack with retractable wings with red and light blue colors that matches her helmet.

She had changed into her space form, Cosmobug.

“Space power up! Because you can fly through the wind! Genius!”

Cosmobug smiled.

“Well, Stormy Weather is dazed but probably not for long.”

The two heroes noticed her about to grab her umbrella, but Chat Noir’s cat-like reflexes helped him snatch it first.

“Oh no you don’t!”

Ice Noir broke the umbrella over his knee.

“I don’t think she will be as mobile without her powers.”

Stormy Weather tried to stand but slipped on the icy floor she had created.

“Let’s just make our way to the boss,” Cosmobug said. She used the jet on her back to swoop up Ice Noir and fly slowly down the icy hall.

“Just like you to sweep me off my feet. But don’t think I will be a smitten kitten like usual.”

“Oh? Is that so?” The bug heroine raised an eyebrow. “It’s hard to imagine that you haven’t been dreaming about this scenario.”

“It helps that you aren’t riding a horse with the wind blowing in your hair,” Chat Noir joked back, catching Ladybug’s teasing.

Cosmobug quickly moved them to a part of the hall where there was no ice. Both undid their potion transformations, reverting back to their usual hero forms.

“Not keeping the jetpack?” Chat Noir asked. “It is really cool.”

“The room halls are pretty limited, and there's not much mobility, otherwise I might have,” Ladybug confessed.

The two heroes took a moment to catch their breaths and figure out their surroundings.

“We should thank Stormy Weather.”

The cat looked at his partner skeptically, remembering how a few minutes ago, the wind had nearly sent him flying through a brick wall.

“What makes you say that?”

“Lila probably had Stormy Weather out and about to flush out other people in the school and make sure the area was difficult to traverse. She likely sent out a bunch of other akuma to do the same, which means her forces are scattered and we have a better shot of dealing with her with fewer obstacles.”

Chat Noir nodded. He would not have deduced such a thing from one encounter with a weather akuma.

“Good to know, so the plan is to locate her and save the day.”

“No need to figure out where she is, I already have a good idea where she should be.”

Chat Noir noticed Ladybug had already started moving. He quickly followed behind, though he didn’t need an explanation this time. He already knew where Ladybug was heading — to his homeroom class, but he couldn’t say that without revealing what he knew.

_____________________________________________________________

‘This was a ridiculous decision.’

That was the thought running through Chloé’s mind as she ran for her life from a large group of Reflekta clones.

The two or three she had run into early were easy to avoid, but now it seemed like a horde of those tacky clones. And all of the ice that surrounded certain hallways made it impossible to traverse. She was limited in her running space and she was running out. But what made it all worse was that now those Reflekta copies had adjusted to running.

“HOW CAN YOU RUN IN THOSE HEELS!?” Chloé screamed as she ran down the hall.

She just had to try and be a hero. Why was she even doing this? The assistant probably got turned into one of those gross clones or got masked like those other students. She could have just sat back and just waited for Ladybug and Chat noir to find her or let them handle it.

“You can’t run forever” The crowd of clones sang in Rather impressive and creepy harmony.

Chloé took a turn down the hall and went into the door of the nearest room.

She closed the door and locked it before smelling the musty wet air.

“What the… EWW!” She spat in disgust as she realized she had locked herself in a janitor’s closet.

“Why did it have to be in such a gross smelly room?” she moaned.

Unfortunately, her comments caught the attention of the crowd chasing her.

She heard banging on the door.

“You can’t hide, we will find.”

Chloe put her back to the door to keep them out and felt herself slide down it in despair.

Was this how it was going to end? Getting turned into one of those fashion nightmares after hiding out in such a rank smelling closet? She didn’t even save… wait. She did save someone. She saved that old man. It hadn't been glamorous, but she did manage to save at least one person.

“I guess I did do something good after all. May not have been exceptional… but it was something.” Chloé smiled for a brief moment.

She took a moment to look at the positives, Ladybug and Chat Noir would likely come in and save the day, plus there were those other two heroes. Perhaps that would be enough. But she had to admit, finding solace in that was getting harder to do when the smell of the closet was destroying her nostrils. Just then, she remembered she had some nice perfume in her bag that she could spray to alleviate the smell.

“Well, at least I won’t smell awful when they capture me.”

She put her hand in her bag and felt around for her perfume. As she searched, she felt an unfamiliar object in her designer handbag. She pulled it out.

“What is this?”

She noticed a note on top of it. It was a bit dark to read so she pulled out her phone and turned on her flashlight.

“Return to Ladybug after mission?”

Chloé’s eyes went wide. Could this be what she thought it was? How was it possible? She didn’t have time to question it.

She opened the box and out came a floating bee creature, who Chloé recognized right away. It was real.

“Pollen!” Chloé exclaimed with cheer.

“It has been a while, my queen.” the bee kwami said.

Chloé would have loved to revel in this moment more but she knew that door was going to burst open any minute. She needed to be the bee heroine.

“As much as I would love to talk more, we need to hurry. We have some akuma clones that need bashing.”

“Right away, my queen!”

Chloe put the bee miraculous in her hair.

“Pollen, Buzz on!”

_____________________________________________________________

“It is a good thing there are so many copies,” Ryuuko stated as she leaped over a few Reflekta copies.

Viperion swerved and dodged the replicas of his sister’s akumatized form while avoiding getting caught in the bubbles that froze them and floated them up in the air.

Deadzone had been doing a lot of friendly fire thanks to its single minded obsession.

“After this, I really hope I never have to see my sister take this form again,” Viperion commented.

“Right, Adrien mentioned that you were Juleka’s brother. Older brother, right?”

“Older twin brother. But yes.”

“Really? You seem older.”

“I am a grade ahead of her, but we are the same age,” he explained.

“Could have sworn you were at least a year or two older.”

“A lot of people think the same thing. Even my mom forgets, sometimes. Rose, my sister’s girlfriend, says I radiate ‘big brother energy’ or something.”

“You learn something new.”

“What about you? Any siblings?”

“Sadly no. I was an only child.”

“Too bad, I think you would have made a great older sister,” Viperion encouraged

“A snake charmer, are we?”

“Well I am the snake, and I am not charming myself, so I think the more correct term would be dragon charmer.”

“Change that to fun killer because you killed my fun right there.”

Before Viperion could retort, they had made their way down to the end of the hall and noticed that it was frozen off.

“Dead end,” they say at the same time.

“No, Deadzone.”

The two turn to see the deadly akuma amalgamation pointing its blaster at them.

The two heroes looked at the deadly akuma.

“Any ideas?” Ryuuko questioned.

“Just one.”

Viperion moved his hand to his bracelet.

“Second chance!” Viperion activated his power.

“Now we have some options.” Viperion explained.

The akuma fired a bubble blast at Ryuuko, and she was frozen.

“Second chance!”

Things reset to how they were a few seconds before. Viperion grabbed Ryuuko and pulled her out of the way of the oncoming bubble blast.

“Thanks. For a minute there, I thought that thing had me.”

“It did, but I used my power to stop that. we still have to get out of here.”

“Look out!”

Ryuuko got hit with another bubble as they got up, protecting him from an attack.

“This might take a few attempts…”

_____________________________________________________________

Hawkmoth paced inside his lair.

Mayura was out there, his son was out there… and things were not going the way he planned. Masquerade seems to be building a base for herself and was more concerned with that than getting the miraculous. Adrien is MIA, and Mayura isn’t responding.

“I might need to step in. But there is a lot of risk in this. Far too many variables that I can't account for”

Hawkmoth never liked leaving his lair. It had too many risks to it. After Heroes' Day, he had nearly been exposed. And after that fiasco in Shanghai he didn’t want to risk getting taken out by his own akuma. He had already taken plenty of risks that had blown up in his face. Would this be another one of those times he would need to risk his miraculous?

“But it could also be just what is needed to beat Ladybug and Chat Noir once and for all.”

With an akuma this powerful, the two would likely have to use their special powers multiple times. If he can just locate them and wait for them to do so, he could potentially gain the advantage. Maybe Mayura was on to something with her actions.

Hawkmoth walked to the window.

“There will be a right time. I just need to wait for it.”

He felt an itch in the back of his neck. He wasn’t sure what it was but he could tell one thing, something big was going to go down, and he needed to figure out the right call soon or it could cost him dearly.

_____________________________________________________________

“…And that’s her plan.” Simularé finished. “As for Ladybug and Chat Noir… I am unsure. I lost track of them before I was given a new assignment. But they are in the building and they have not tried to leave.”

Mayura smiled at the information. While it was quite unfortunate that she didn’t have the exact location of the two heroes, it was good to know that they were still in the building, and Lila’s plan was certainly something interesting.

“Indeed, that is quite a clever plan. Ensuring everyone in the school couldn’t escape was pretty smart. You likely had a few escapes anyway, with how clumsy some of the akuma were. You are fortunate that neither one was Ladybug or Chat Noir. Still, though, it isn’t your master’s fault for that. They are basically mindless puppets. But then again, it seems that there might be zero escapes since there seems to be no new reports on the subject of a school takeover.”

Simularé let the peacock villainess muse, analyzing her movements as if trying to figure out any advantage it could handle.

“So, the next step now that all communications are cut is to send out a message that Ladybug and Chat Noir have already been defeated, so as to cause massive despair in order to create even more minions. Sounds a bit derivative, don’t you think?” Mayura mused.

Simularé said nothing. It held its tongue. Deep down, it knew that starting any dispute with this peacock was not wise. Especially given that crazy power she had over their being.

“Still, it is quite a plan. And with all those extra akuma recruited and Ladybug and Chat noir cut off from their guardian, they wouldn’t be able to get any sort of back up. They wouldn’t be able to put up much of a fight before all of Paris is under Masquerade’s thumb. I approve of the plan.”

“I am glad you do,” Simularé stated with a forced smile.

Their conversation was cut short when an akuma appeared. Seeing one it did not recognize, the artist akuma prepared to fight. But thankfully the shapeshifting sentimonster stepped in.

“Stand down Evillustrator, this one is not our enemy,” Simularé ordered.

Evillustrator eased and walked over.

“Masquerade has ordered that we start reinforcing the building. She wants this place to be like a fortress,” he parroted.

Mayura looked at the artist.

A fortress? Yes, Simularé mentioned that Masquerade wanted to reinforce the school so that she could ensure Ladybug and ChatNoir would have less chance of escape.

Simularé nodded at the akuma servant.

“Alright, so she wants us to drop the illusion, then?”

“She wants the place to be like a fortress.”

“Go ahead and start,” Simularé motioned. She figured that her master likely didn’t care about the illusion much as she was prepared for stage two. But she would maintain it for a bit.

The akuma moved to the end of the roof and begins working to reinforce the walls

Mayura began moving to the door of the roof to get back down into the school.

“Tell your boss I will be heading to her, and she best be welcoming,” Mayura ordered.

“As you command,” Simularé replied, hiding a large amount of anger and resentment towards the blue bird.

As soon as the blue peacock is out of sight.

Simularé contacts its master.

“Simularé, what is going on? Did Evilustrator reach you?”

“Yes. He is working to make this place a fortress. You want me to maintain the illusion, right?”

“I am about to go public shortly. After I make the announcement. Drop the illusion and make sure this place is a full-on fortress. After that is done, report back to me.

“Yes master. By the way, I had an idea.”

“Oh?”

Simularé smiled sinisterly. She was going to show Peacock why she was sorely mistaken.

“I will report the details to you shortly.”

_____________________________________________________________

“Everything is set up,” Robostus noted.

“Excellent. Let’s do it now.”

The Reflekta camera crew was all set, and Gamer had set it up so the moment they went live, every screen in Paris would show Masquerade.

Masquerade got off her call with Simularé. Something seemed a bit off with her sentimonster but she was intrigued that she had a plan.

“We are live in 5….4…3….2…” the gamer stated before pressing the go live button.

Masquerade smiled.

“Good afternoon, citizens of Paris. You may not know who I am, but don’t worry! You will be very familiar with me very soon. I am Masquerade, and I have decided to make Paris my personal kingdom.”

She paused to let that sink in.

“Now you are likely very alarmed by this declaration and that is normal. It will only be a matter of time before I spread my influence to everyone in Paris.”

She paused to let her words hang in the air before continuing.

“Do not be afraid, I am no monster. I plan on being a fair leader. All I ask is for your undying admiration and absolute loyalty. After that, you are free to live your lives as you normally would. Do not resist and you will have no problems. However, if you do… well, I can’t guarantee your safety.”

Masquerade took a calm breath before finishing.

“This last message goes out to the heroes of Paris, Ladybug and Chat Noir. I know you are here, I know you believe you will stop me, and I know you have allies here. But you will fall to me. Your days of superheroing have come to an end, your miraculous will be taken from you, and I will expose you as the failures you are,” Masquerade finished with venom.

She ended the transmission.

“Now make sure that it is being looped,” she ordered.

“Already is,” Gamer confirmed. “And panic is starting to rise.”

Masquerade smiled. Her plan was already working.

It may have seemed like a simple ego boost, but that speech of hers was a crucial part of her plan. Her charm bracelet could hyper focus on anyone that was akumatized in the past and have their biggest insecurities exposed. But that one by one process took far too long, if the hope of the entire populace of Paris was already demoralized. Then all she needed to do was send out her masks and let them take hold. And all she needed to do was go out there and send the masks.

She could already feel massive amounts of negative emotion from outside of the school. As soon as she headed out of the school, she could easily go and get more akuma soldiers. She could feel her bracelet trembling with all the potential additions.

She was prepared to leave, activating one of the charms to give her black angel wings, but something she remembered caused her to stop.

“Simularé I am moving to phase two of my plan. Get down here.”

It only took a few seconds for the sentimonster to jump from the roof and knock on the window.

One for the Reflekta copies opened the large window to let in what appeared to be Dark Cupid, before it shifted into the phantasm form that was its base.

“Right on cue. So, what is this plan you wanted to suggest?” Masquerade inquired. “And be sure it is not a waste of my time.”

“What if I told you I could get you a Miraculous?”

The sentimonster could feel that Masquerade was very pleased with that idea.

_____________________________________________________________

37 attempts.

It took thirty-seven resets before Viperion figured out what they needed to do.

“Ryuuko, follow my directions exactly,” Viperion instructed. “I know how to win.”

He quickly pulled her towards him to make sure she dodged the first bubble.

The akuma was surprised by the avoidance.

Viperion smiled.

“Your next line is, ‘How did you know I was going to blast at her?'” Viperion stated confidently.

“How did you know I was going to blast at her?” Deadzone parroted in shock before realizing they had said exactly what Viperion had said they would say.

The dragon heroine looked at the determined expression of the snake. She could see experience and certainty in his posture. All her years of fencing taught Kagami the art of reading body language, and the hero in front of her was someone that exuded an aura of confidence. She knew she could trust him.

“Alright, Sassy Snake, I will let you take the reins.” Ryuuko responded.

“Jump to the left in 2 seconds and start running.”

Ryuuko followed the instructions and sure enough avoided yet another bubble attack from Deadzone.

“Head to their left and bounce off the locker at the end.”

Ryuuko dashed past the akuma and jumped as Viperion instructed, perfectly avoiding the barrage of blasts sent her way. Viperion had perfectly mirrored her motion as he explained the next steps.

“Now somersault twice and draw your sword.”

Ryuuko somersaulted as Viperion leaped over her and the dragon turned to draw her sword, now on the other side of the hall.

“Now as soon as it fires a bubble at you, activate your wind! No matter what! I believe in you Ryuuko.”

The last words seemed a bit strange to the fencer. What did he mean by that?

“Will you shut up!?” Deadzone shouted before sending a bubble at Viperion.

“For my final glimpse into the future, you will say, ‘Not so tough now are ya?'”

The bubble contacted Viperion.

“Viperion!” Ryuuko cried out.

The bubble enveloped the snake and floated to the ceiling, taking his frozen form along with it.

“No…” Ryuuko muttered. She looked down in sorrow.

I failed to protect him. He ended up protecting me. He had been backing me up to make sure I wouldn’t do anything reckless.

Ryuuko felt her mind flashback to a few days ago which now seemed almost like it happened a year ago. They had made such a good team back then and now… they get a chance to be heroes again and she couldn’t cover him like he did her.

“Ha, not so tough now are ya?” Deadzone stated with confidence.

Ryuuko’s ears perked up at the statement. That was the line Viperion predicted they would say. That means… Viperion knew this would happen! Which meant his previous statement was to show he planned this. She knew what to do.

Deadzone turned its attention to Ryuuko.

“Don’t worry, you will join him shortly.”

Deadzone fired another bubble right at her, but this time Ryuuko wasn’t moving. She was at the perfect distance to do what she needed to do.

Ryuuko smiled.

“Wind dragon!”

The dragon-themed heroine turned into a cloud and blew the bubble right back at the akuma.

“What!”

The bubble encapsulated the akuma, causing it to freeze in place and then float to the ceiling.

Ryuuko returned to her original form and smiled, seeing how they had finally incapacitated the akuma.

“We did it, Viperion. We took them down. I'm sorry it cost you so much… I won't let you down!”

She raised her blade, upon realizing that her partner was indeed trapped in a bubble.

“Wait a minute…”

Ryuuko walked underneath Viperion’s bubble. She wasn’t entirely sure if this would work, since akuma magic was weird and often unpredictable, but it would make a lot of sense if it did.

“It is a bubble, so this should work right?” Ryuuko questioned as she used the tip of her sword to touch the bubble. She pushed it forward a bit causing the bubble to pop.

Her partner dropped to the floor.

“Ugh… my head.”

“You’re okay!”

Ryuuko hugged her friend, but then realized her sudden action and quickly jumped back up. A bit flustered, she could swear Marinette was rubbing off on her.

“I am glad you are alright, friend. You had me concerned — slightly,” Ryuuko corrected herself.

Viperion was surprised by the quick motions but managed to steady himself.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course. But make it quick, we will need to get a move on.”

“Okay… Who am I?”

Ryuuko froze at the question. She could see the confusion on his face. He was completely serious.

“Oh… that is not good at all.”

_____________________________________________________________

Masquerade is on phase two of her plan and Simularé is starting to make waves.

Who will get to the akuma first, Mayura or our heroes.

What will happen to Viperion now that his memory is gone?

Will Queen bee be the right choice?

Reblog and Comment . Your support is invaluable in keeping this fic alive. And I love hearing your thoughts on it

[morganaseren]

I have a question that's popped up in my head.

What would have happened had Niamh been severely injured by the people guarding her in the dungeons, and by the stones that we're thrown, in the immediate aftermath of the conclaves explosion?

Especially what Leliana and Fergus would have done.

So Niamh's basic motto about defending herself prior to Inquisition was not to use magic unless she felt like her life was in absolute danger. During the first few chapters of OtSttCA, it definitely got rather close though.

For the sake of this scenario, we'll say she was severely injured--enough to where she couldn't even make the trip up to the Temple of Sacred Ashes without risk of further injuring herself.

In the event of that happening, there's no way Leliana would hide that from Fergus, especially since he's waited so long to hear any news of his little sister. That, and Josephine is such an impeccable diplomat that she wouldn't want to risk burning bridges with someone of such high nobility within Ferelden if the Inquisition tried to sweep everything under the rug. Bear in mind that Highever is one of only two teyrnirs left within the country after all, so Fergus' title as Teyrn is just a level below the King and/or Queen.

Thus, Cassandra really wasn't exaggerating about the "diplomatic nightmare" that would occur once Niamh's identity was made public.

Even if there were intentions of the Inquisition being formed then, there's little to no possibility that Fergus would have allowed the organization to stay in the country for what they did to Niamh. He'd do his best to get his little sister back to Highever and far away from the Chantry and anyone else who thinks they can use her as a pawn in their schemes.

Given the world of Thedas and its typical lack of regard for mages, I honestly struggle to believe anything significant would have happened to her attackers had Niamh been anyone outside of such a notable family. Since she is a Cousland, however, I can imagine anyone involved in hurting Niamh so grievously would have been jailed.

And I honestly don't remember who asked me about this question in particular, but I also recall someone being rather curious about the fate of the scarred guard back in chapter 2 and what Leliana would have done to him afterward since she's the one who correctly guessed he kicked Niamh.

If it was just the solitary kick, Leliana would probably arrange for him to be removed from his current position and be placed on something of the equivalent of a desk job. Should he still stay with the Inquisition by the time it's officially reformed, he never gets near Niamh again (and Leliana has enough agents to know if he ever does), and as Niamh's infamy continues to grow as the Inquisitor, he's far from being involved in anything of particular note. He'd be surrounded by colleagues actively working out on the field or regularly interacting with the Inquisitor while he's just stuck delivering messages here and there as some forgotten pariah.

If the guard had instigated something worse for Niamh though, he's jailed if not outright executed for his crimes, depending on the severity of what he did. If it's the former and he's eventually freed for whatever reason, he's essentially blacklisted from working as a guard or soldier ever again. Leliana and Josephine respectively see to that. His life is ruined to the point where he becomes destitute to say the least.

Worst-case scenario of all the things combined above? Corypheus makes his move sooner and might have even successfully taken the Anchor away from Niamh if she was still injured since she wouldn't have even made the journey up to the mountains to attempt to seal any rifts, left alone the Breach.

It's basically a Game Over at that point.

Hope that answers your question!

[crossdressingdeath]

you said that playing through the conclave explosion would be better to establish you Inquisitor's backstory and feelings and i agree. you also said that it would take away from the snappy opening and i also agree. maybe they could've made it happen after cass questions you, i would say, you know, as a flashback, but then i remembered that the Inquisitor doesn't remember what happened lmao. still i think that would have worked in some way if they tried to do it

With DAI's prologue the writers had to choose what was more important: a snappy, attention-grabbing opening or setting things up right at the start. They chose the former, and I think they chose wrong. Especially since they could still have the impact of the Conclave exploding! Hell, they could even keep a bit of the mystery aspect and the shock factor of there being no warning for the explosion if they'd really wanted to. Quiz walks around the Conclave for a bit, maybe fulfills a couple objectives (maybe Trevelyan has to talk to people in both factions to get a feel for the general atmosphere of the Conclave, Adaar has to handle an incident between a mage and a Templar, Lavellan and Cadash have to find a way in and avoid suspicion while gathering information, that sort of thing; again, that would also allow some early characterization based on how they handle whatever situations their version of the prologue involves), then they hear Justinia calling for help. They open the door... and cut to the outside of the temple. A few seconds of silence, then boom. Quiz still loses their memory of the events immediately surrounding the explosion, but they definitely remember what happened at the Conclave itself (which is something DAI doesn't get into) and more importantly we know what happened at the Conclave pre-explosion. Also, it would create the opportunity to introduce some actual characters who were there and died, because as it stands the Conclave's victims kind of don't matter? Justinia's death is a bit sad because Leliana is sad about it, and I guess that guy from that movie Cassandra was in was there? But it's kind of just this nebulous Thing; people died, and that's sad. If we actually saw the Conclave, Bioware could've set up some characters! Put a face to the tragedy! If we could've talked to some of the people present, actually interacted with the mages and servants and Templars and seen their hopes and fears for the Conclave and the future beyond that, I feel like the Conclave exploding would've felt a lot more like a tragedy rather than just an inciting incident written to conveniently sweep the mage rebellion under the rug.

[dunwcll]

alternate in hushed whispers concept that doesn’t make the mages look like villainous morons

the templars don’t join up with corypheus at all bc it makes no sense and is just there to let you side with templars bc Tradition and Grey Morality. it’s stupid. the templars are still taking red lyrium but they’re straight up a renegade splinter faction who want to kill all mages and are led by c*llen and the venatori make up all of corypheus’s troops

therinfal quest is a templar civil war with non-fanatical templars led by barris who want to help the inquisition vs fanatical templars led by c*llen who want to kill all mages (+ the inquisition)

alexius doesn’t come to fiona like join up with tevinter :)) bc he’s not a moron and fiona would never. instead he and a small group of venatori pretend they’re a small band of southern rebels coming to redcliffe for safety. BUT he’s also had agents infiltrating the mages since before the conclave 

templars attack redcliffe. the mages and villagers (+ inq and party who were there to negotiate) fall back to the castle where teagan is and a siege begins

the gang are like. well darn. we need to get word to denerim so the king can come with his army and deal with these assholes but they have us trapped in here!!! and teagan’s like “i’m about to ruin this templar’s whole career” and tells them abt the windmill tunnel

cole is there?? idk?? details. he offers to go get warning to the crown bc he can slip past the templars without ever being detected. before he goes he says some cryptic shit abt not trusting alexius

the siege continues. tensions are mounting. the venatori begin mind controlling some of the mages into joining them

alexius begins dropping hints that he has a very powerful friend :)) who could totally save them :)) fiona just has to accept his offer :))

fiona is like. hm. sounds like tevinter nonsense to me and alexius gets caught and tossed in the dungeons. but they’re still under siege and they don’t know who can be trusted anymore

the events at therinfal still go on even without the inq and it ends with barris and a few of his allies barely escaping with their lives while the rest are massacred, leaving the rest of the red templars free to come to redcliffe

the army shows up led by alistair but is trapped outside the walls. for whatever reason (Main Character Syndrome i guess) it’s up to the inq and party to fight or sneak their way to the gatehouse and open the gates so the army can sweep in and take out the templars.

alistair DOESN’T kick the mages out bc he’s not an asshole and it wasn’t their fault in the first place but he does encourage them to go to haven bc he’s afraid their presence puts both them and the people of ferelden in danger and fiona agrees

cole tags along and dorian is the one to show up and warn of corypheus’s attack on haven since he’s been infiltrating the venatori (cole is in both quests bc he’s there to help the inq so he goes where they go). also barris shows up at haven at some point with the survivors of his faction and join up bc i want barris to live gdi. calpernia is the inquisitor’s main adversary while c*llen is a more minor villain.

the inq can either conscript or ally with the mages but conscription is presented as the Asshole Choice and not finger-wagging at the mages for being stupid children who need to be controlled bc they’re a danger to themselves or whatever

idk this is a rough draft n ppl with better knowledge of tactics and shit feel free to add on and correct stuff that is stupid or doesn’t work

[katgalle]

A little one shot for one of my Inquisitors, Eletha Lavellan.

I don’t own the dialogue! Only the thoughts and actions of my Inquisitor!

Warning: some cussing!

Eletha was exhausted. Her days hunting with her clan could never have prepared her for the war she was fighting. Her muscles ached and her fingers felt numb curled around her staff. The demons she fought chilled her to the bone, although she’d never admit that. There was danger in allowing this Cassandra woman to witness any weakness in her. Eletha had a distinct feeling this woman wasn’t convinced that she wasn’t the cause of the explosion at the Conclave.

The fucking Conclave.

She felt the irritation boil under her skin at the thought of the event. She knew she should have turned down Keeper Deshanna’s request. She didn’t understand the Keeper’s desire to get involved in the shem’s business, but she trusted her, she still did despite the disaster it turned into.

Under her irritation burned a different, more dangerous feeling. She was furious at what transpired. She held no love for the Chantry, the Mages, or the Templar’s, but the thought of their slaughter made her ears ring. In addition, someone put this mark on her hand and the Shem’s Maker be damned, she wanted it off.

More demons up ahead interrupted her thoughts, Cassandra beside her let out a yell and ran forward and Eletha was quick to fire off spells at their enemies. She had to admit, this woman was a force, she was rather content to be fighting with her as opposed to against her for the time being. Cassandra knocked the last demon off balance with her shield and quickly stabbed it through the middle. She gestured to Eletha and they were moving once more.

“We’re getting close to the rift. You can hear the fighting.” Cassandra yelled back at her.

“Who’s fighting?” Eletha asked cautiously, hoping she wasn’t being led to her demise.

“You’ll see soon. We must help them.”

Cassandra’s statement had an air of finality that Eletha didn’t wish to push and so she followed the woman silently, and she did soon see who was fighting.

Eletha was certain that she did not want to go anywhere near the glowing mass that hung over their heads, but it seemed Cassandra was giving her little choice. They rushed into yet another fight, as soon as one batch was killed another came through the rift. Eventually there was a momentary lull, but Eletha was not allowed a breath before an Elven man grabbed her wrist.

“Quickly, before more come through!”

The man thrust her hand towards the rift and she watched in horror as some kind of green magic flew out of her. The rift closed and Eletha quickly snatched her wrist from the man’s hand, rubbing at it lightly.

“What did you do?” She questioned wearily.

“I did nothing.” The man claimed, “The credit is yours.”

Eletha scoffed lightly at that statement. “You mean this?” She said as she gestured to the mark scarring her hand.

The man’s lips thinned.

“Whatever magic opened the breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand.” The man stated, “I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the breach’s wake- it seems I was correct.”

“Meaning it could also close the breach itself.” Casandra added in

“Possibly.” The man agreed.

Eletha nodded along as she tried to process the conversation. They seemed to have overestimated her intelligence, she thought wryly.

“It seems you hold the key to our salvation.” The elven man stated.

“Good to know!”

Eletha turned her attention to the Dwarf approaching them.

“Here I thought we’d be ass-deep in demons forever.” He quipped. Eletha snorted a little, appreciating his choice of phrasing.

The Dwarf turned towards her.

“Varric Tethras: rogue, storyteller, and occasionally unwelcome tagalong.” He introduced himself, throwing a tiny smirk at Cassandra.

Feeling slightly overwhelmed, she merely smiled at him before noticing the rather large weapon on his back.

“That’s… a nice crossbow you have there.”

Varric’s eyes lit up. “Ah, isn’t she? Bianca and I have been through a lot together.”

Eletha giggled lightly at his statement.

“You named your crossbow Bianca?”

“Of course. And she’ll be great company in the valley.” Eletha knew the last part of his dialogue was not pointed at her.

Cassandra quickly let her know who he was speaking to.

“Absolutely not. Your help is appreciated, Varric, but…”

Eletha couldn’t decide if Cassandra liked or disliked the Dwarf.

“Have you been in the valley lately, Seeker? Your soldiers aren’t in control anymore. You need me.” Varric said confidently.

Judging by Cassandra’s noise of disgust, Eletha was leaning towards dislike.

The Elven man once again caught her attention.

“My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions. I’m pleased to see you still live.”

“He means, ‘I kept that mark from killing you while you slept.’” Varric said from behind her.

“You seem to know a great deal about it all.” Eletha gently questioned.

Solas seemed happy enough to speak about it, but Cassandra interrupted. “Solas is an apostate, well-versed in such matters.”

Once again Solas’ face showed his disapproval. “Technically, all mages are now apostates” He stated clearly to Cassandra. Turning back to her, he said,

“My travels have allowed me to learn much of the fade, far beyond the experience of any circle mage. I came to offer whatever help I can give with the Breach.”

Solas pauses for a moment, seeming to choose his words carefully.

“If it is not closed, we are all doomed regardless of origin.”

Eletha felt a degree of admiration for this man, but was still distrustful of these people she only just met.

“And why will you do once this is all over?” She asked.

His next statement was directed towards her, but she knew he was truly speaking to Cassandra.

“One hopes that those in power will remember who helped, and who did not.”

Eletha nodded, understanding the weight of his words.

“Cassandra, you should know: the magic here is unlike any I have ever seen. Your prisoner is a mage. However, I find it difficult to imagine any mage having such power.”

Eletha shuddered at his words. She knew the price of power and she was unsure she wanted to find out what this would cost her. It seemed that she had no other options, however. This mark would kill her if she was on her own. She zoned out the words of her companions, following behind them. They fought through more demons and, although Eletha was still wary, she did appreciate the extra manpower.

The group continued on their way until they were finally on a small bridge, roaring with activity. Eletha saw the woman who held Cassandra back earlier arguing with a man. The man obviously believed she was guilty and was quick to try and throw his words at her like knives. In the end, Eletha discovered Cassandra is as deadly with her words as she is her sword.

The pain in her hand is becoming unbearable, if they continue arguing she will keel over before they make it anywhere.

“I say we charge. I won’t survive long enough for your trial. Whatever happens, happens now.” And they are once again moving.

They move efficiently, but Eletha has to force herself not to look at the corpses they pass. She hates the weight her decisions can carry. She breathes deeply as they go to keep her cool. They are soon faced with yet another rift. They jump into the fray, the sound of yells, and metal and claws ripping through flesh roaring around them. Eletha grips her staff harder, trying to still the shaking of her hands.

A large demon rushes towards her and she attacks with all her might. She cast spell after spell, but the terror seems unaffected, still swiping at her viciously. His blows are coming faster and getting harder to dodge until she can’t and she is knocked to the ground. The demon looms over her and she’s sure that she’s done for. She wants to close her eyes, but fear glued them open. The demon lifts his gruesome hand but before he can sweep it down to her a sword appears through its middle.

The demon falls and in its place stands a tall man, and she doesn’t know if it’s only the relief when she thinks he’s the most beautiful things she’s ever seen. He holds his hand out to her and effortlessly she is up and he is fighting again.

When the last demon is down and the rift is closed, the beautiful man walks towards Cassandra.

“Lady Cassandra, you managed to close the rift? Well done.” He says.

“Do not congratulate me, commander. This is the prisoners doing.”

Commander? She feels her eyebrows raise slightly and turns towards him. She finds his eyes already on her with an unidentifiable look in them.

“Is it? I hope they are right about you. We’ve lost a lot of people getting you here.”

Eletha felt a shot of guilt. She never wanted people to die for her, even though she knows it isn’t truly her they care about.

“You’re not the only one hoping that.”

If her words surprise the commander she can’t tell, he merely smiles at her and says.

“We’ll see soon enough, won’t we.”

Filled with conviction, she nods to him.

“The way to the temple should be clear. Leliana will try to meet you there.”

“Then we’d best move quickly. Give us time, Commander.”

The Commander's face looked simultaneously hopeful and grim.

“Maker watch over you- for all our sakes.”

As Eletha watched him run to help a soldier she decided if she was about to run into a death sentence she could pretend the handsome commander's words were only for her.

[captainderyn]

Soulmate AUs - the one where your soulmate’s name is on one wrist and your enemy’s name is on the other and you have no clue which is which... i forget the number now that i'm in ur ask box...

So I messed this up and read it as “your soulmates name is written on your wrist but you don’t know if they’re your soulmate or your enemy” so…that’s what you get lmao. Sorry :’) It’s a soulmate prompt so that’s close enough…? @lumielles

Tucdela x Cullen

--

Tucdela had always thought there would be a nice elven name on her wrist; male or female, she didn’t care, clan Lavellan or another clan, it didn’t matter either. Whatever was meant to be by the Creators was meant to be in her mind and she would trust in their judgement and guidance. 

She would travel wherever was needed, settle down as a hunter in some other clan, come home to visit her family and fall deeply and irrevocably in love with whatever elf she was destined to find…she was a hopeless romantic through and through, and all she wanted was that magical ending to her romance. 

It was customary that one’s soulmate’s name tended towards appearing when they received their vallaslin; though some were known to see the name appear before or perhaps after, it was exceedingly uncommon. As such, many young elves rared for the day they would get their vallaslin, desperate to know who they weren’t meant to find. Tucdela was no different.

She watched her wrist in the hours after her vallaslin ceremony, face, neck, chest, arms and back stinging with the bite of the bloodwriting that now stained her skin green in elegent, sweeping lines. Waiting, with baited breath, for the name that would appear on her wrist. 

Taehon teased her for her rapture with her wrist as he smoothed elfroot salve on the reddened marks on her skin to take away the pain, freezing when she cried; “Isa'ma'lin! It’s appearing!” 

Tone light and jesting, her brother strained to peer at her wrist, even as she tucked it close to herself and turned away, trying to read the faint letters herself first. “Well, what does it read? Sorwen? Valowyn perhaps?” 

“Cullen…?” Tucdela read slowly, eyes narrowing. “Cullen.” she repeated, ears flicking as her brows drew down over dangerously stormy eyes. “Fenedhis lasa! That’s a shem name!” 

A dark red flush spread across her cheeks and up to the tips of her ears as her expression went stormy as a winter squall. Her eyes flicked to glare at her brother as though it was his fault that the name was written across her wrist. “Taehon!” 

Her brother raised his hands in surrender, brows raising. “It’s not my fault you have that written on your arm.” he said defensively. “But, Tuc, maybe he’ll be a good shem, like the ones that helped the Clan Sabrae girls during the Fifth Blight–the Heroes of Ferelden.” 

“Or he could be a raving lunatic like the ones that took the Warden Commander in the first place.” Tucdela muttered mutinously, sharing a dark look with her brother. They all knew the stories of what happened to some of the mage children being taken between Clans, and they’d all certainly heard what had happened to the youngest Mahariel girl before. 

“That’s not funny to joke about,” Taehon snapped and she huffed, nostrils flaring. 

“I never said it was a joke.” she snapped back, crossing her arms tightly over her chest in a scowl before rocking to her feet, storming deeper into their encampment. 

Damn soulmates to anbanal, she wasn’t going to fall for a human. There was no way. She wouldn’t allow it. 

–

Years later, or perhaps not so many years, she trailed behind a ferocious woman in armor–Cassandra as she had been called, rubbing at her wrists and staring in fascination at the green mark that pulsed in her palm even through the canine leather that had been hastily shoved at her. 

She was considered a terrorist—a murderer–for the explosion at the Conclave that she barely remembered. Her body still hurt from the impact, her head reeling from accusations and remarks that she had fallen from the Fade among the ruins. As if any of that was meant to make sense. 

Jumping down into a courtyard, flinging out her arm just to feel a strange and foreign magic rip through her, sewing together the hole hewn in the Fade, she almost missed the warrior charging at her until their sword cleaved down a demon just feet away from her. 

Whipping around she tore a dagger from her belt–worn, dulled at the edges and pilfered from a body splayed across winter ice–only to find his back to her. When the man looked over his shoulder she rocked back a step, nearly missing his words in the sudden sweep of familiarity that zinged between them. 

“Are you alright…?” 

She nodded dully, eyes wide even as the commotion continued around her. She didn’t know him, she had never seen him before. So why did it feel like she did?” 

“This is Commander Cullen Rutherford, he’s holding out lines…” 

Oh. 

Oh. 

Her heart sank, the name on her wrist practically burning. 

Cullen Rutherford. 

Cullen.

–

“Herald..might I speak to you for a moment?” the shem, the Commander with the amber eyes of an Orlesian lion asked her in a voice soft enough to belong to a kitten.

Eyes narrowed, seething with suspicion, she gave a sharp nod, following to one side of the sweeping hall–in some grand building referred to as the Chantry–that offered some modicum of solution. She had seen his eyes drift to one of the empty rooms, doors hanging ajar, and she had been prepared to dig her heels in against it. There had been no need. While he didn’t treat her delicately or like some feral animal, the two sides of the pendulum the people of Haven swung between, there was a certain awareness that preceded his actions that she had not been shown. 

If she weren’t so suspicion perhaps she would have quoted him as kind. 

She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, tapping calloused fingers against her arm. 

“I just want to ask you about this,” His fingers closed around her wrist and she jerked, trying to pull away with a “Don’t touch me!” snapped from behind bared teeth.  He released her wrist as quickly as he had taken it, but the warm tunic she had been given to wear beneath her torn Dalish armor had been pushed up. 

Cullen read in sweeping green lines, twined into the vallaslin snaking down her arm. Hugging her arm close and pressing her offending wrist against her chest, she glared at him. “What about it?” 

“I was just…well, I didn’t think much of it but…hm..you probably won’t like this–” breaking off with a hmph-ed noise of displeasure his fingers worked at the straps to his gauntlet, shifting it off of his arm and into the crook of his arm. Taking off his glove in a similar fashion he worked his sleeve up to his elbow, baring the skin of his wrist to her. 

Tucdela was scratched there, faded just enough to be legible. Seizing his arm she planted one hand at his wrist, the other at the top of his forearm, pinning his hand between her elbow and her ribs just to hold him still. Patiently he let her inspect her name, running her fingers over the sweeping letters, a furrow deepening between her brow. 

It would explain the spark that flared when they’d first seen each other across the battlefield, the uncomfortable comfort that had seemed to surround her when she had simply stood near him. But–

“You’re a human.” she finally snapped. “That has nothing to do with soulmates–why would you love someone who’s seen as two steps above a feral animal? Who most seem to think more fit to be put down with a knife than given the time of day.”

He, at the very least, looked baffled. “Why would I–I don’t…Herald…Tucdela,” he ground to a halt, taking a breath and giving a small shake of his head. “I don’t know why we have each other, I’m just as confused as you are. We don’t ever have to interact beyond Herald and adviser, we never need to see if something is here. But I don’t see you as any less because of who you are.” 

For a long moment she studied him. Though this string of fate bound them…he didn’t expect her to act if she didn’t want to? There was the option to back away, turn her back on his name and throw fate to the wind; or perhaps they could see if they could fall into something deeper. With a man who acted as though he didn’t see–no, saw but didn’t curl his lip at–her ears, her vallaslin, or the clan ring she wore around her neck, carved from halla horn. 

“…alright,” she said slowly and in return she got a soft smile and a gentle tug of his arm. 

“Good; could I perhaps have my arm back?” 

“Oh!” Cheeks burning she dropped his arm, holding her hands up. “Sorry.” 

Pulling his glove back on and beginning to refasten his gauntlet, his smile had yet to fade. “It’s quite alright. I look forward to knowing you…Tucdela.” 

Loathe as she was to admit it there was something slightly endearing to the careful way he said her name, sounding out each syllable. Perhaps, if she took the time to know him, he wouldn’t be that bad. “And I you, Cullen.” 

[herald-divine-hell]

Words of Sorrow

A/N: I am leaning toward not using my OCs any longer in my fanfics, besides the multi-chapter with Amayian. There might be some, but most likely very few for the time being, at least. 

                                                           ____

A tapestry of pain seized the Herald’s features. Her brows furrowed together; her mouth tightened, teeth clenched; sweat glistened her forehead.

Blacken clouds shrouded the stars from view, a high wind whistling shrill and lashing cold strikes against cloth and flesh alike. Snow puffed and twirled, weeping white tears, glimmered faintly from the burning bonfire, like crystallize shards that flickered with a flame inside, crimson and gold spreading. A great mass of flaming stars that flickered this way and that. 

Haven’s people looked as dead as Leliana had expected. The lifeless, hopeless mist in their eyes; the weariness of their step; the way their backs straightened and their faces flashed with terror at a pitched wail from the wind. Even if the monster did not descend with a sweeping stroke to end the Inquisition in it’s entirely, he had left his mark. The frostbite might kill them - maybe even the starvation, but they all know who forced this wandering, pathless march. 

She wondered how many gifts of mercy she would have to give before she died as well. 

Andraste’s Chosen came to them in a mist of white and smelt of death. The woman had fared no better than the others. Her face had turned a deep purple by the time Cullen, Cassandra, and the others returned. A daze, fog-shrouded gaze filled her eyes, and Leliana had almost thought that had retrieved her dead with the lopsidedness of her head. But she noticed the soft rising and falling of her shoulders, the shatter of her teeth. Trevelyan had been close to death, and by some miracle had survived. 

The recovery was slow. Trevelyan was coddled in a mountain of blankets, so much so that the Spymaster almost could not see her beneath it. It had taken a near two minutes to push some of the heavy sheets of fur and whatever the townsfolk could had brought out as they fled Haven and find the Herald’s face. She was sweating, and she was in pain - that much had been evident. 

Leliana rested beside the Herald on a wooden crate, arms crossed over her chest and a leg thrown over the other. The Frostback’s lashing breeze billowed through the sealed tent, and even protected beneath her chain-mail, Leliana found herself shivering. It was her turn to watch over the Herald, much to Cassandra’s annoyance. The Seeker had wanted to spend the entirety of her duration shadowing the Inquisitor, but Leliana saw the way Cassandra’s shoulders fell with every glance that was sent toward Trevelyan’s face; saw the guilt and self-loathing burning in her eyes. 

She had saw the same in almost all the others. An air of instability lingered with the wind, only kept at bay for the Herald’s sake. No accusations had been thrown, not yet at least, and a danger still lingered in nearly everyone’s mind. 

The Herald’s face strained with pain, eyes scrunched, soft whimpers falling passed her clenched mouth. Leliana raise cloth warmed by some magic that Vivienne had enchanted and began to dab her forehead. Glove-clad fingers brushed strands of hair away from the Inquisitor’s sweat-drenched face. Something shifted and tugged at her heart. 

Trevelyan’s face was one that Leliana was well-accustomed to. The Blight had shown scenes and sights that no person should ever been forced to witness. Dismembered bodies drenched in blood; entrails wrapped around the necks as they dangled and shifted in the terribly-scented wind; faces half-mauled away by the insatiable hunger of the Darkspawn. The Herald’s face was one of pain, of suffering, begging to be release from it with a swift slash of the throat. Leliana’s palm twitched and itched. No, she thought, jaw clenched. Maker, no. This is one gift of mercy I will not give. 

It would had been a sweeter fate, she knew; to release her from the pain. It would only take a simple slash through the throat and the terrible pain that Trevelyan felt would ebb away...

She tore her hand away from it’s hovering place over the Herald’s face. It trembled as she rested it on her lap, covering with the other. Leliana’s body felt hallow, a sickening feeling gurgling in her stomach, making her dizzy and light-headed. Maker, did the thought of killing the Herald cross her mind? Leliana would admit that she had first thought it slicing the Inquisitor’s throat was right after the destruction of the Conclave, when Justinia had perished in a single stroke of blinding green light and swelling clouds of debris and snow. But now...she could not do it, even if it was given with compassion. 

She deserved better than this. A warmth flooded her eyes, cheeks quivering. Her fingers tightened around the sides of the other hand, clenching, stilling the tremor. If had kept my scouts on the field none of this would had happen. She shifted her eyes away. Herald, I am truly sorry...

“I’m sorry too.”

Leliana’s eyes widen, swiveling to see the Inquisitor’s features still torn into that terrible suffering. “I’m so sorry. I failed.” Her voice was as loud as a whisper, maybe even lower. The spymaster’s ears strained to hear. “I failed...”

Her eyes remained sealed and scrunched in pain. “Herald?” asked Leliana softly.

Trevelyan did no reply, merely breathing out haggard breaths. Droplets of sweat pulled, and Leliana dabbed it away again, fingers pushing away locks once more. “Don’t apologize,” said Leliana to no one. Her heart clenched. “Maker, don’t apologize for my mistakes.” Never apologize, Herald. My mistakes are mine alone: my burden and my crimes. 

Trevelyan only response was a whimper and heavy breath.

[dlthrack]

Palanthas

   Palanthas. The Jewel of Solamnia. Named for the god Paladine by Vinas Solamnus himself, the city grew and thrived for over 1500 years. Even the Cataclysm barely shook the city’s foundations. It wasn’t until the Summer of Chaos, when the titanic god was released from the greygem and unleased his horrible minions upon Krynn did the city fall. Not to the legions of Chaos, but to the Knights of Takhisis. Some say the defenders of Palanthas were weakened and distracted by the war with Chaos and that’s why the dark knights were able to conquer the city with almost no effort. Others say the gods themselves made a deal with Takhisis so that her followers had full sway of the continent of Ansalon. Whatever the reason, the Knights of Takhisis occupied the city, deposed the ruling council and placed high ranking dark knights in positions of power. Although the city still acted as the largest trading hub in all of Ansalon, the presence of the dark knights definitely affected the populace. Non-human traders and citizens, especially elves, were seen less and less.    The Knights of Neraka (formerly the Knights of Takhisis) controlled the Lordcity of Palanthas for more than 40 years. During that time, they forged an alliance with Khellendros, the Dragon Overlord that declared the region of Solamnia his domain. Soon thereafter, the Tower of High Sorcery, which had stood in the same spot since before the founding of Palanthas, disappeared leaving only a perfect circle of black glass in the center of the Shoikan Grove. Jenna of Palanthas, formerly a red robed member of the Conclave of Wizards, despite the loss of her magic and the tower of High Sorcery, did what she could to resist the Dark Knight occupation, including teaching the newly discovered wild sorcery, which was outlawed by the knights.    Then came The Great Storm. The Knights of Neraka were united under a new general, Mina. In her wake, the ancestral homelands of the elves were either destroyed or occupied, and three of the Dragon Overlords, including Khellendros, lay dead. Mina’s victory over Ansalon was nearly complete, but it was revealed that the One God that she worshipped was actually Takhisis, who had stolen the world away from the other gods. When the gods returned and enacted their justice upon Takhisis, the Knights of Neraka had lost both their patron deity and their greatest general. The knights shattered into factions and immediately started losing cities and territories. The Knights of Solamnia, bolstered by the return of their gods, started a campaign to retake Solamnia. Starting with the Southlund city of Caergoth, the Knights of Solamnia started pushing out the now broken dark knights. After re-taking the High Clerist’s Tower, preventing the dark knights from getting reinforcements by land, the Solamnic Knights began working with the citizens of Palanthas and the wizard Coryn the White to remove the Dark Knights once and for all. The coup happened quickly, with the Solamnic Knights sweeping the guilds, docks, garrisons, and gates. The battle ended when the Lord Knight of Palanthas, Knight of the Lily Elstone Kinsaid, was slain.    Change happened quickly after the Dark Knights were routed. The ruling council was reinstated, with gaps filled by the Knights of Solamnia or their allies. The High Warrior of the Crown, whose knights recently started worshiping Shinare the god of commerce, became the master of coin and the head of the Bank of Palanthas. The position of Lord Knight, historically filled by a Knight of Solamnia, has remained vacant. The current citizen members of the ruling council, along with a vocal group of nobles, believe that the Solamnic Knights already have too much influence over Palanthas politics and they are keeping the seat vacant. To spur growth and trade, the one thing the citizen and knightly rulers of Palanthas were able to agree on was the creation of a civilian Chamber of Commerce. One of the many creations of the Chamber was the Adventurers Guild. The last 45 years were hard on Palanthas and the world, and there is much work for someone willing to sell their proficiency with the sword or spell book. By making the Adventures Guild an official and organized effort, the ruling council can insure a certain level of quality and professionalism in the mercenaries hired. They have even made deals with certain inns within Palanthas where adventurers can stay and where new jobs can be posted. One such inn is the Notched Axe, recently refurbished in Old Town and operated by two old adventuring companions, the dwarf Barsal Blackhorn and the human Gwendoline Willden.

[rhetoricalrogue]

Hush or Congrats for Ravena/Blackwall, please :)

Thank you for the ask! I went with the Cousins Trevelyan AU where Ravena’s a companion for this one, and I managed to get both prompts into one story! Set post-Revelations, roughly around late 9:42 or early 9:43 Dragon.

Send me a "Hush" and I'll write a drabble about one character comforting the other (from fear or grief)

Send me a "Congrats" and I'll write a drabble about their first anniversary

The light and the sound of birdsong filtering in through the bedroom window woke Thom. He and Ravena had been traveling for the past few weeks on Inquisition business that just so happened to take them close enough to Tantervale to take a detour and spend a few days at the home Ravena owned before they began the trip back towards Skyhold. Ravena had written Inquisitor Lavellan with the news of their prolonged stay out in the field as well as a brief report of their findings, so the two of them didn’t feel guilty at all for taking some much-needed time for themselves.

They had to make do with some travel rations for dinner since the shops had closed long before they had arrived that first night, but a trip to the market before breakfast the next day had seen them set up with enough food to last for the duration of their stay. Most of the morning and early afternoon had been spent airing out the place: opening windows and removing dust cloths and taking stock of the non-perishable items left in the kitchen larder. It was a comfortable house, modestly furnished and decorated, yet full of little bits and pieces of Ravena’s past that she’d been all too happy to share with him. True to nature, most, if not all of the keepsakes she had on display had a story to them and Thom was looking forward to eventually hearing them all.

The evening had been spent preparing a simple dinner together and retiring to a sitting room after, Thom starting a fire in the hearth while Ravena had gone downstairs to the cellar to bring up a bottle of wine from her collection.

“It’s from my second oldest brother’s wedding,” Ravena had explained, pouring a glass for them both before snuggling up on the settee with him. “I’ve been collecting wines made in important years for my family - birthdays, weddings, that sort of thing. It’s somewhat silly, but when I drink this, I can remember just how Robert had laughed as he and Maria danced their first dance as a married couple. It was spring and she had orange blossoms in her hair. It was a good day.”

He’d draped his arm around her and held her close. “Nothing silly about it,” he’d told her. “It’s always good to be able to relive happy memories.”

She had leaned against him then. “One of these days, I’m going to have to put a bottle in my collection for you.”

“I’d like that.”

They’d spent the remainder of the evening there enjoying the other’s company before finally heading up to bed. The following days had fallen into a similar pattern: morning walks to the market, afternoons exploring the city, and evenings wrapped up in the other’s arms. Thom never thought that he’d be content with something so simple, but he could easily see them settling into a routine just like this: time spent in the city broken up with time spent on the road on archaeological expeditions or in other cities. Instead of the dread he had often felt in his youth at the idea of such domesticity, he welcomed it, if only because it would be spent with Ravena at his side.

Speaking of, Thom scrubbed at his face with one hand while reaching out for her with the other. Stubble scraped at his palm as he did so, a reminder of the beard he was starting to regrow, and he shifted over to face Ravena’s side of the bed when he hadn’t made contact with her. Normally she was the type to enjoy sleeping in as often as she could, and he was usually the first to wake. That morning, the sheets next to him were cool to the touch and Ravena was nowhere to be found. Rolling out of bed, Thom scooped up his pants from the floor and threw on a shirt before quietly making his way downstairs.

The lower floor of the house was just as silent as the upper one had been. Thom looked around for a possible note Ravena may have left for him before going off on whatever errand she had that morning, but he hadn’t found one. Another oddity was the fact that the kitchen was untouched - the coffee that she usually made before doing anything else for the day still undisturbed in its tin.

“Ravena?” It wasn’t too terribly late in the morning, and a quick look out the kitchen window saw that the small courtyard garden was unoccupied. “Are you here?” He tried not to make a big deal of it; Ravena was a grown woman fully capable of going where she pleased without having to inform him of her every move and Thom was a grown man who didn’t need to be tied to his lady’s hip every second of the day, but the small, uncharacteristic details he had come across and the too-quiet of the house left him uneasy.

The silence was broken by a faint sniffling noise coming from the one room in the house that Ravena hadn’t opened up or explained to him. Respecting her privacy, and knowing that she had once shared the home with her cousin Henri, he hadn’t pressed her for details. It may have been a while since the death of her mentor at the Conclave, but Thom didn’t think that Ravena had ever truly given herself an opportunity to grieve, pushing her own feelings aside in favor of making sure that the Inquisition was prepared to use all the arcane shards they had been combing most of Southern Thedas the past few years for. In fact, knowing Ravena, she had used helping the Inquisition as a way to avoid processing Henri’s death for as long as she could.

“Ravena?” He carefully pushed the door open, his nose twitching at the scent of long-settled dust. He found her sitting on the floor near the foot of the bed, the trunk in front of her open and several books stacked up close by.

“We’re leaving this afternoon,” she explained, wiping at her cheeks with one hand while she held a rolled up bundle close to her chest with her other. “I didn’t want to leave without…” Her lip trembled and she hugged the bundle closer to her.  “I never got the chance to say goodbye.”

Thom knelt beside her, his fingers brushing away fresh tears. “What can I do?”

She leaned into his hand and closed her eyes.  “You’re here, that’s all.” She placed what he had mistook as a wadded up bag or piece of clothing in her lap. Now that he could see it better, he recognized it as a rolled up set of field tools, much like the set that Ravena had. “Henri could be the most disorganized person I ever knew with everything else, but when it came to his tools and his research, everything was meticulously put in place. He taught me that no matter what else is going on, the tools that a researcher relied on needed to be ready to go at any moment.”

She laughed, her fingers gently running along the leather case. “Most of that was because he never knew when he’d get into a discussion with another scholar and he needed to be able to pull out reference materials to back up his arguments.”

“You haven’t spoken much about him.”

“I haven’t gotten the nerve to,” she confessed. “If I did, then I’d have to speak of him in the past tense. I’d have to recognize that he was gone and I haven’t been ready to do that. Henri was...is such a large part of my life. I wouldn’t be the person I am today without his help and I don’t want to let him go just yet. I don’t know if I’ll ever be.”

Thom reached out and pulled her close. Ravena went willingly, burying her face against his neck and her hands clutching at the back of his shirt. “The people we lose never really leave,” he said, his hands running down her back in slow, soothing sweeps. “We carry them with us everywhere we go, from the lessons they taught us or when we see something that reminds us of them.” He pulled back enough to look her in the eye. “You don’t have to let him go if that’s what you want. No one is allowed to tell you how to grieve or how you’re supposed to remember him.”

She moved away to put the books she had taken out back where she had found them, pausing over Henri’s work tools before placing them back in the trunk as well,  her hands pressing the lid of the trunk closed. “He was a cousin that I’d rarely had dealings with before going into the Chantry. He didn’t have to, but he took me under his wing and gave me opportunities I wouldn’t have had otherwise.” Ravena stood up and hugged herself, her fingers digging into her elbows.

“Henri saved my life in more ways than he’ll ever know. I was young, alone in a place far from home and friends and unhappy to be there. My relationship, if you could even call it that, with Simon had just ended and I felt hopeless. Had Henri not come into my life when he had, I don’t know how I would have ended up.” She looked down at him before holding out her hands to help Thom get to his feet. “He was my dearest friend and I’ll forever be grateful for getting the chance to know him.”

Thom was about to ask her if there was anything that he could do to comfort her, but she spoke again. “You’re right, you know,” she said. “Henri may be dead, but he’s not gone. Just like I’ve left my mark on this place and others we’ve been to, he’s done the same. He’ll always be here.” Ravena pressed her hand to her chest. “Just like he’ll always be here.”

He reached out and wrapped his arm around her waist. “When you’re ready, I’d like to get to know him.”

Ravena took a breath. “Thank you.” She closed the scant distance between them and pressed her lips against his. “I think that the two of you would have gotten along rather well. Henri would have liked you very much.”

They were silent for a while before Ravena spoke again. “Come on, we really should get started closing the house back up before we leave.” She took Thom’s hand and the two of them left the room, Ravena closing the door behind them. “I don’t know when I’d be able to come back, but I’d like it if you’d come home with me.”

He nodded. “I’d like that. It would feel good to have a place to come home to after everything is said and done.” He helped Ravena pull the dust cloths they had folded out of the closet and the two of them began to recover furniture. Ravena was in the middle of checking the windows to make sure they were all securely locked when Thom stopped her.

“What is it?”

“I was going to save this for later, but I think this would be a good time.” He opened a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of wine. “I picked it up the last time we went to the market.” It was one that they both favored, and Thom pointed out the year. When he saw her puzzled expression, he explained.

“It’s the year we met. I did some thinking about when the exact day was, and we just recently passed our one-year anniversary.”

Her confused look deepened. “Thom, we’ve known the other for much longer than that.”

He shook his head.  “No. You knew the Warden Blackwall for that first year. This,” he pointed at the date, “this was when you met Thom Rainier.”

“Oh.” Ravena held the bottle close to her chest and smiled. “Come with me.” Taking his hand, she led him down to the cellar. They stopped at the stairs long enough to light a small lantern to take with them so they wouldn’t trip in the dark, and Thom followed her, listening as she pointed out different years and vintages in her collection and what various bottles represented. He held the lantern for her as she made room for the newest addition.

“There,” she said, dusting off her hands. “Now we have to come back; I’m looking forward to seeing what a few years does for us.”

He picked up by her tone that she wasn’t just referring to how the wine was going to age. Thom cupped her cheek with his free hand before tilting his head to kiss her. “As am I.”