#which is why the brush strokes are dark blue in the centre but fade to pink

[envyenvys]

Lunacy

[granddaughterogg]

Darksiders: The Great House Party - chapter 2

Jealousy

The party unfolds and the Reader has to confront her own long unresolved attraction to Strife, who - yeah, you've guessed it - is acting kind of like an asshole. Thankfully Azrael sees right through him!

(You can read the whole work on AO3 if you prefer. I removed the link because Tumblr apparently renders posts with links invisible to the searching algorithm. Oh well. Go there and look for Granddaughter_Ogg.)

The heat of the humid summer night clung to your skin. You felt the moisture trapped in your hair, a trail of sweat wandering down your back under your light cotton sundress.

You stood on the doorstep, nursed a beer, and watched the party unfurl around you.

All the guests invited answered The Call, as you’ve jokingly named it. War made a face and Death told you you shouldn’t use such wording flippantly.

It took three weeks of intense communication between the realms to get the invitations out. Sometimes you’d use Vulgrim’s Serpent Holes, sometimes you’d resort to e-mailing (Azrael was definitely one progressive archangel). Setting a date that fit everyone’s schedules proved to be a tall order, but —to your pleasant surprise— they were all here now.

‘I guess they do like me,’ you thought to yourself. It was a good thought to harbour, like a little fuzzy creature held to your cheek.

The spacious yard before you teemed with life, the buzz of conversation high in the air. War has brought out all the sofas, the recliners, and even your bean-bags for the smaller guests to rest on. He and Death also carried in some wide tree stumps for the magical Scots-people, although none of them were that fond of sitting. „Ma legs start to feel funny when I do thaet fer too long,” as Ulthane would say. The Makers were an energetic bunch.

Ulthane and War built the barbecue in your garden. That’s right —built, not just put together, because it was humongous. The smallest stones used for its base seemed bigger than your head. An iron-wrought lattice served as the grill grate. War apparently “borrowed” it from some abandoned house down the road.

„No one is going to miss that thing,” or so he told you. You thought that even if there were, in fact, people living in that decrepit place, they probably laid low in fear while one angry-looking giant took their gate away.

Various meats sizzled on the barbie, filling the yard with an appetizing scent. There were chicken legs for the humans —you specifically asked for them— but also a whole deer.

Where the heck did Ulthane get a deer?

You watched the Maker flip the roast with the steady hand of a pro while he chatted with War. The Red Rider wouldn’t be pulled away from all this food even with a bulldozer.

His lightning blue eyes twinkled with glee. You knew this is where your second love’s gonna stay until the party’s end.

At least until the end of deer.

Death and Strife have rolled out a battery of beer kegs. There was also a table where the small-handed folk could mix their own drinks if they so wished. Fury’s acquaintances from Haven (a bunch of perfectly nice kids, from what you could gather) were already helping themselves to it. Their laughter rang in the air.

‘Maybe I’ll join them,’ you thought, ‘But not just now. In a while.’

Twenty feet away from them resided Fury herself, who was in charge of the music. She lounged on a pile of bean bags and clicked continuously on her laptop, which has been connected to Strife’s high-end gamer speakers. She looked ecstatic. The beat of Beyonce’s „Sweet dreams” boomed loud and clear in the trees.

Uriel and Usiel perched on two ends of the longest sofa available. Both looked awfully nervous, sipping their drinks and kicking their feet to the tune. They tried their damnedest not to peek at each other.

‘Oh, great,’ you smiled, ‘We’re gonna have some good ol’ party drama. Just like in high school.’

Speaking of drama. Strife really threw you for a loop there. The sly fucker brought in his two girlfriends.

At least that’s who you assumed they were.

„Angela, Janice, meet the resident Princess Peach of this house!” The gunslinger’s voice boomed in your ear, making you wince. You turned around and there he was, looking damn fine in tight jeans and a black shirt with its sleeves rolled up. You could admire all the ink.

His voice was already anointed with booze, eyes sparkled mischievously. Strife had both arms around two of the finest women you’ve seen in a while.

They were both crazy tall and wearing spiky heels. The gunslinger didn’t even tower over them that much. Long and lean ladies, leggy, all in all beautiful. Angela was the dark-skinned one in a gold-sequined number. She blew you a kiss. Janice was pale and had perfectly straight, silver blonde bangs, the kind of which you’ve only seen in fashion magazines so far. The hair reached all down to her ass.

She scrunched her nose at you. You felt awfully short and fat all of a sudden.

Like a peasant standing next to royalty.

„I have a name, you know...” you hissed at Strife. He gave you a shit-eating grin. The bastard.

„Angela. Janice. So nice to meet you.” You nodded stiffly at the two goddesses, not sure whether or not to offer them a hand. Theirs were busy stroking the smiling Horseman.

„Gosh, is that Azrael over there? Sorry, gotta go!” You huffed and ran.

His smirk burned you even while you fled.

You dove into the angel headfirst. Like a kid running to their mom when they’ve been bullied at the daycare.

„Why hello there,” Azrael’s level timbre was music to your ears. You pressed both palms into his gown and looked up to that sensitive, intelligent face, into the all-knowing eyes, which were now twinkling with amusement.

„Sorry about that,” you breathed, ”Had to get myself out of a tight spot.” He just nodded. Of course he did.

„So, Az. Are you having fun?”

He smiled again and lifted up a flute of champagne.

„I have to say that I am,” He missed a beat and then stated simply: „You care about him, don’t you.”

You inhaled sharply.

„You talkin’ about Death or War? Because I sure as hell do care about them both.”

Azrael let out an adorable little chuckle.

„Of that I am fairly sure. No, I meant the third brother. The troublemaker.”

„Strife?” you snorted, „No way! Why would I want to have anything to do with that irresponsible, nasty, self-centred piece of ass…?” Your voice trailed off, „Besides he only dates models,” you mumbled.

Azrael took a sip from his flute.

„This is exquisite. Who picked this vintage?”

„Death did. I don’t know shit about them finer drinks,” you said absentmindedly. Where was Death anyway?

Azrael chuckled again.

„I admire your piercing candour. Never change.”

Twenty feet from you, Fury climbed to he top of her beanbag throne, eyes ablaze, an angular bottle in one hand and a pair of headphones in the other.

You realized with a start that the most sensible of the Four was probably full of Jack by now.

Her exultation shone like a hundred suns.

„Hey, that’s my gear! Watch it!” That was Strife, lounging on a recliner with a bottle of his own. The pretty ladies all but slithered over his long frame.

You looked away.

„Fuck off, brother!” cried Fury with gusto, „Dear guests! This one goes out for all the feathery friends who joined us tonight!”

The vibrant tones of Beyonce’s „Halo” filled the yard.

Remember those walls I built Well, baby, they're tumbling down And they didn't even put up a fight They didn't even make a sound

Uriel stole a glance at Usiel. Usiel looked back. Then they both abruptly turned away from each other.

„Oh, my,” whispered Azrael playfully, „That’s so sweet, it’s making me blush.”

You gave him a hard stare.

„You almost never blush, Azrael. You make other people blush. That’s your M.O.”

I found a way to let you win But I never really had a doubt Standing in the light of your halo I got my angel now

You couldn’t let Uriel and Usiel out of your sight. It was fascinating. She stared into the other angel’s eyes with hard resolve and wiggled her eyebrows, finger pointing at the portion of the yard that served as the dancefloor. The humans were already there.

Usiel nodded curtly and they both stood up. Their wings brushed awkwardly against each other. You could tell that neither of them is any good at dancing.

„You know me so well.” Azrael’s knowing smile started to get on your nerves.

„I knew you just once, I mean in the Biblical sense. But it sure was eye-opening.*”

„Yes, I can remember.”

„What, are you gonna gloat now?”

„Never.” The angel leaned in closely. In his eyes was only kindness.

„I cherish that memory greatly. I cherish you. That’s why I’m going to tell you this: not one of those stunning females currently all over Strife is his date.”

You looked through him as if he was a windowpane.

„I need to find Death”, you stated bluntly and left.

You're everything I need and more It's written all over your face Baby, I can feel your halo Pray it won't fade away…

The angels shared a kiss before the song ended.

* Please see my other story called Azrael is a kinkster for juicy details.

[birb-hoe]

The Night Stalker.

A short horror story I wrote based on this piece of artwork created by the amazingly talented @dappermouth!

I grew up living in a small town, population… I’d say about 15000 roughly. Give or take a few people. The whole place had a very bright and mellow charm about it growing up, everyone was slightly reserved but polite. I guess everybody just liked to keep to themselves. Despite the rumbling of small earthquakes now and then and the common deer collisions with cars it’s very peaceful most of the time. The town is enveloped in a very beautiful scenery, so I can thank mother nature for giving me a good home. We were surrounded by tall mountains which would be washed with an orange glow from the sunset on a clear days evening, and west of the town was a big forest that panned out to a big lake.

I used to go swimming in the lake during every day of spring and summer as a kid, which was probably my favourite thing to do, sometimes with my classmates and my best friend Jimmy as well. The best part had to be when I would sit at the deep end  and let my legs dangle over the edge, that’s where the all the stringy moss would brush against the bottom of my feet. My parents always told me to come back when it started to get dark because of two reasons, the first being general safety for your child as parents do. The second being the town curfew. This pretty much applied to everyone who lived in the town but the rule was made clear regularly in school and community centre meetings; Never go outside when the sun has set.

For a long time during my childhood I never really understood why the rule was there, or how none of the grown ups would talk about it. The only other rule they really enforced was to drive slow to shorten road accidents with the wildlife, but that’s understandable.  My mother would tell me tales about this creature that lurks around the streets at night called the Night Stalker, and that it would eat all the naughty kids that disobeyed their parents. For the longest time it gave me chills and was definitely some good nightmare fuel for a while, but like most childhood things you grow out of that stuff eventually. It wasn’t until I was about 12 years old that I started getting curious about this curfew and what it really meant.

It all started one day when this girl called Nancy in my maths class didn’t show up, which was weird because she never missed a day of school, or even turned up late for that matter. None of the other kids really knew what was going on until a few days later when the head teacher announced to everyone that Nancy had drowned in the lake. Apparently she tried to go swimming at night without any arm bands, and because of her carelessness she couldn’t stay afloat. At first I didn’t think of it much because only a handful of people would go missing every year, so it wasn’t that big of a deal. But the more I thought about it the more it didn’t make any sense.

For starters, Nancy would never break any rules whether it was school rules or the curfew. Not even the grown ups would go out at night. Also she was a great swimmer, I’ve swam with her in the lake a few times and she could swim far out to the deep end and back again without breaking a sweat. I’ve never seen her use arm bands or pool floaties ever. The only thing she really did apart from swimming and doing homework was have sleepovers with her best friend Beth so the whole thing was very confusing. I tried talking to her about Nancy and what happened but she wouldn’t speak about it, which made sense because she just lost a friend.

I asked around some of Beth’s close friends to find out more but all I got from them was that Nancy sneaked out of her home to have a ‘super secret sleepover’ that they were planning, but never showed up. Which was odd considering Nancy and Beth lived only 2 blocks away. One thing that I did find unsettling was overhearing some of the older teenagers talking about it, apparently one of them saw the body when it was being pulled out of the lake. They said that the body was completely crushed and broken like it was hit by a car or truck, which is weird because the town never really gets that much traffic. Over the following weeks I contemplated the whole thing over and over in my head, everything was a blur because my mind was always somewhere else.

Eventually I told Jimmy about everything that I overheard and the thoughts I was having, and we ended up talking about it for hours. He theorised that Nancy’s death was somehow connected to the town’s curfew, which I was sceptical about at first but made sense the more I thought it over. Soon we hatched a plan during lunch break to figure out what really happened. I invited him to a sleep over at my place the following Sunday, my mother made lasagne and we stayed up watching cartoons. After going to bed at 9pm we slept for roughly 5 hours until we were sure that my parents were asleep. Jimmy had set an alarm on his watch so he could wake me up. We got dressed into our outdoor clothes and grabbed some flash lights that he had packed the day before and I pulled back the curtains, slowly opened the window and quietly jumped into one of the hedges below. Jimmy soon followed and we both turned on our flash lights.

The sky was an eerie dark blue and all of our surroundings were caked in a thick fog, we could barely see 5 yards ahead of us. Everything was completely silent, no birds chirping or insects buzzing. It was like we were the only two people in town. We decided to walk down the path way towards the blocks near Beth’s place to see if we could get a clue. The town seemed so ghostly and chilling, quite the opposite of the bright and mellow feeling you get during the day time. Every step I took was amplified by the deafening silence that cloaked the streets, even breathing seemed like a soft shout with every exhale. After about an hour of walking around the town we realised that we were nowhere near Beth’s place, Jimmy exclaimed that we were obviously lost and that we should keep walking around.

After a few more minutes we eventually made it to a small four way intersection around the centre of the town, the traffic lights softly glowing through the fog as if my eyes defocused everything I could see. I was trailing the light of my torch around the path when I noticed something rustling in a nearby bush. The sound was crisp and clear as both myself and Jimmy jerked our heads to whatever that sound was. We stared at the bush as it continued to rustle for another minute before something crept out if it. It was a cat, black and white with silver whiskers and eyes as blue as the sky itself. I immediately started to follow the cat so I could pet it, but it had no intention of slowing down whatsoever.

I followed it into an alleyway and behind a bin and started stroking its head as it started to purr. “Dude, come back I can barely see you!” Jimmy yelled, his voice echoing through the alley. I didn’t bother to turn round, or even respond. That was the last thing he ever said to me. In the distance a soft and subtle rumbling noise made the ground rumble. The rumbling grew louder and louder, faster and faster as the ground started to shake more violently. I held the cat in fear and buried my face into it’s fur as I had no idea what was happening. The rumbling got louder and closer until a blood-curdling scream pierced through the rumbles, followed by a crippling crackling slam, and then silence.

I let go of the cat as it ran off further into the alleyway and disappeared round the corner, my whole body still trembling with fear. All I could hear was the thumping of my heart pounding throughout my head and the heavy exhausted breathing escaping my lungs. I slowly turned round to see that I dropped my torch near the entrance of the alleyway so I walked over and picked it up. It flickered and died on me, cursing under my breath from the stress I placed the torch in my back pocket and stared at the ground in shock. Once my eyes were focused again, I noticed the beam of a torch was pointing at my chest. For a split second I was filled with joy, as if everything would be alright. But when I looked up, my body went cold and my hair stood up on end to what I saw in front of me.

A deer, with legs as tall as a truck and body as big as a house, with eyes glowing like headlights, antlers covered in stringy moss dripping with water, standing in front of the mangled crushed body of my friend Jimmy. The Night Stalker. It stared right at me, right into my eyes, as if our vision was locked together in a stalemate. My body was frozen with fear, cold tears running down my eyes and mouth wide open. I wanted to scream, but nothing would come out. For what seemed like an eternity the creature eventually turned its head away, grabbed Jimmy’s body with it’s mouth, and walked away.

Then everything faded to black. I was found unconscious in the alleyway the next morning by some of the locals and was immediately taken to hospital where I woke up. The months were a blur after that. I never really went outside any more, or even went to school. I did all my homework in my room, curtains closed and bedside lamp always kept on. My parents eventually told me the truth about the curfew, and the Night Stalker.

The town has been cursed for decades. Nobody knows how long, but the same event takes place every night. For every deer that is struck dead in the town, the spirits of the deceased deer comes out when it’s dark and takes a life in return. Those who venture out when it’s dark are crushed like a car and their bodies taken to the lake where they sink to the bottom, to be later fished out by the locals in the following days. That’s how the town used to dispose of deer corpses during the 1900′s. I still have nightmares to this day, every time I close my eyes all I see is theirs staring back at me. I don’t think I’ll ever leave my home. I don’t think the nightmares will stop…

[lincolnbadcoe-blog]

6 Steps to Great Bridal Makeup

Choosing the look of your wedding day makeup is as important as choosing your gown. Yet so many women spend months looking for the perfect gown and thirty seconds deciding on the makeup for their special day. Your look will be captured in photo’s forever, so it’s important to put on your best face with no mistakes. After all, you are the very centre of attension on your wedding day. Why leave your look to chance ? Here are a few tips to help you look picture perfect on your wedding day.

1. Perfect your canvas

Every bride wants beautiful, flawless skin on her wedding day. To ensure this, you’ll want to establish a good skin care routine at least two months before the ceremony. This will give your skin a chance to adjust to the new products, so your skin will appear healthy, smooth and clear.

i) Apply moisturizer let it dry completely.

ii) Apply a primer to suit your skin type.

If you have oily skin go for a primer with oil controlling ingredients to ensure long-wear and flawless application. If your skin is dry go for a hydrating primer this will help nourish and hydrate your skin.

weblink: Bridal Makeup Bundoora

2. Foundation Concealer Powder

Foundation is the most important item of makeup you will purchase, and, while the right formula can literally erase years, the wrong formula can add years. Why is foundaton so important ? It can make skin appear flawless and give it a healthy glow. It can cover imperfections and blemishes and smooth out uneven skin tones,making your skin look more youthfull. Wearing it coreectly can can do more for your appearance than almost any other makeup product. Unfortunately foundation can also be one of the most difficult products to choose correctly. Using the right formula is so important because the wrong one is almost guaranteed to make you look older. When choosing foundation, there are to things to consider. The first is to match your skin tone and its depth level, so that your foundation looks natural. The second is to match your skin type with the correct foundation formula. If your skin is oily, the oils from your skin can mix with the product and make your foundaton appear blotchy and uneven. So you will need a foundation with oil absorbers in it. If your skin is dry, you will need a foundation with moisturisers in it, to help your skin look youthfull and fresh. Wearing the correct foundation formula for your skin type can help your foundation stay on longer and your skin look younger.

i) Application, its best to begin your application in the centre of your face, dotting foundation on the cheeks and forhead,then blending outward. always remember to finish by blending downward to make sure all the facial hairs lie flat.

ii)After application blot with a tissue to absorb any excess foundation and moisture left from the product, especially around the nose and in your T zone,( all the areas that get shiny first) This will really help with staying power. Even though applying powder will set your foundation and absorb the excess moisture, blotting first will enable you to go longer before you have to touch up.

Concealer : Concealer can improve your skins appearance dramatically, but only if it’s invisible. The secret to concealing everything that you do not want to see is applying concealer just to the discolored skin. You will actually need to choose different textures of concealer, depending on what you are concealing.

i) To cover undereye discolouration ( caused by blood vessels that appear blue or gray when they reflect light), you need to choose the perfect shade and texture of concealer. If you use a formula that it to moist, it can travel, slipping into creases and fine lines around the eyes. A formula that is to dry is bad for the delicate skin around the eyes and can appear dry and caked. You might need to experiment to find the right formula for you.

ii) Application First perpare the undereye area by applying eye creme and letting it soak in for two or three minutes. Blot away any excess with a sponge or tissue. Using eye creme will hepl you concealer adhere, and if the skin under yur eyes tends to be dry, your concealer wont cake up and call attention to itself.

iii) Take a concealer brush and apply concealer along the demarcation- where the discoloraton begins on your skin. Extend the concealer up and over the the discolored area. You never want to apply the concealer below the line of demarcation. If you do you will lighten skin that is already the correct colour,and you will be back where you started with two uneven shades of skin.

iiii) Next take you finger and using a stippling motion ( a patting motion) , pat the concealer along the line of dearcation to blend it in. Be sure to conceal any darness in the corners of your eyes or eyeids if necessary. Yellow concealers are a great choice for covering very dark circles on ivory and beige skin. And golden-orange concealers work great on bronze and ebony skin.

Both concealers can counteract all shades of skin discolorations from red to purple to brown.

Finally, using a powder puff or powder brush,add a generous dusting of loose powder to your face to set your foundation for the day. This will help it last longer and give your skin a smooth even appearance. ( Make sure your pressed powder compact isn’t far away at the wedding reception for touch ups.)

3. Brow colour

When selecting a brow colour, choose one that is either your natural brow colour or one shade lighter. You may not need a lot of filling in, but some will definately help define and perfect your brow.

i) Well groomed eyebrows are a must. But before you reach for the tweezers ,take some professional advise. You should embrace your natural brow shape. Tip (Fuller brows make you look younger)

ii)Apply brow colour pencil or powder in short,feathery, hairlike strokes for a natural finish.

4. Eyes

Your eyes always express your joy and happiness, especially on your wedding day. Because photography is an itegral part of the day,it’s important that your eye makeup accentuates rather than dominates your eyes. Depending on the time of day and the lighting,your eyes can photograph very differently. I recommend using three different shades of eyeshadow to acheive the most beautifull effect. To help you eyeshadow last longer,apply concealer and loose powder on your eyelids before applying your shadow.

i) Application ( Natural beauty)

Apply a highlight shade : Apply to brow bone, the lid, and inside corner of lower lashline.

ii) Midtone shade: Starting from the outside corner of the eyelid(because the first place you lay your brush gets the most colour) Gently move your brush across the crease into the corner of the eyelid. Also brush along the lower lashline, one again starting from the outside corner and brushing towards the inside, so that the most intense colour is at the outside, fading as you move to the inside corner. This will help create subtle definition.

iii) Contour shade : Apply across your upper lashline from the outside corner inward. Then bring the colour up into the outer portion of the crease, and blend it inward about one third of the way,layering on top of your midtone shade. Sweep colour underneath the lower lashline for a blended look.

With this look, you have a multitude of blush and lip colour options,depending on the intensity of eyeshadow you choose. For instance, if you have chosen a dark eyeshadow contour colour,make sure you choose soft and subtle blush and lip colours. If you choose really soft and natural eyeshadow colours, you could choose a bit more intense blush and lip colours.

Eyeliner. For bridal i always recommend usng a pencil or soft khol liner in black, brown or taupe as these are more natural. Well defined soft smudged liner looks great in photo’s.

Curl lashes : I always recommend curling eyelashes because it opens up the eyes and makes them appear larger and more youthfull. If you do not like the usuall crimp-stlye eyelash curlers ther is now an ulternative heated eyelash curler. The trick to curling your eyelashes correctly is not to crimp them more than once at the lashline. Instead walk the eyelash curler up the length of your lashes,taking care to open and move the eyelash curler up a few times untill you reach the end of your lashes. This method creates more of a curve rather than a crimp and will help your eyelashes stay curled.

Apply two thin coats of waterproof mascara, comb through lashes between each coat with lash comb to insure no clumps.

5. Cheeks

Blushing bride. Want to be a rosy cheeked, blushing bride ? Here is an easy way to layer your cheek colour and make it last from the cremony to reception.

i) Apply a creme blush to the apples of your cheeks and cheekbones.

ii) Dust your cheeks with loose or pressed powder.

iii) Apply a powder blush similar to the colour of the creme blush to the apples of your cheeks and cheekbones.

Using this application method will give you a bit more intense colour, and everything will last throughout the evening.

6. Lips

Apply a lip balm to the lips before you apply lip colour to help liner and lipstick go on more evenly.

To help your lip colour last:

i) Conceal the ebtire lip area,everything from the natural lipline to the entire lip. This will create a more perfect edge,aswell as creating a perfect canvas on which to apply your lip colour.

ii) Line the outer edges of the lips with lipliner. This is the first defence of getting your lip colour to last.

iii) Next apply a soft pretty lipstick that loks natural yet still defines the lips. Next take a tissue and gently blot your lips.Then reapply your lipstick.Do not blot after this application.

To finish add a dot of lipgloss in the centre of the lips to attract the light and highlight your smile for photographs.

If you only want to wear lipgloss make sure you line your lips and fill in the entire area with lip pencil before applying the gloss. This will help your gloss last longer.

[daqueen15writes]

Your Light Remains

Fandom: Dragon Age Rating: Mature Pairing: Cullen Rutherford x Arya Amell Chapter: 1/?? Summary:  Eliza Hawke arrives unexpectedly at Skyhold, promising to pledge herself as an agent of the Inquisition under one condition: They will attempt to reverse the Rite of Tranquillity on her cousin, Arya Amell.

Read on AO3 here

Notes: I’ve had this series in my head for a very long time and I am extremely excited to finally start sharing it. Updates will probably be quite sporadic, but I am determined to see this through. Hope you enjoy!

Prologue

In the long hours of the night When hope has abandoned me, I will see the stars and know Your Light Remains.  - Chant of Light, Canticle of Trials

Arya Amell's pounding footsteps seemed to echo as she ran across the barren landscape of the fade. Her long, dark hair flew wildly around her, sticking to her face where the tears poured down her cheeks.

The Fade shifted suddenly as her sanctuary came into view. It was just as she had left it last, a bizarre blend of library and garden which could have only existed within the Fade.

Arya drank in the sight, her eyes following the rows upon rows of tall bookshelves which outlined the chamber. A spiral staircase stood opposite her, leading up to a balcony which granted access to the second story of books, as well as an array of plush armchairs. Instead of a ceiling, the room opened up to the swirling colours of the Fade sky above. The centre of the chamber was dominated by a large willow tree, with low twisting branches. A grassy meadow full of wild flowers coated the floor like a carpet, surrounding a large pond on the far side of the room. Books floated haphazardly throughout the room between bookshelves, waiting to be plucked out of the air and read.

She and Eliza had constructed this sanctuary together as children; it was their safe haven, away from the prison of the circle and the fears and uncertainties of a life constantly on the run. Here, they had fantasised about one day meeting, but that could never happen now.

Arya came to an abrupt halt at the thought, fear and despair clawing at her chest. This would be the last time she would see her sanctuary, and it appeared to be empty. If Eliza wasn't here, Arya would never see her cousin again.

"Eliza?" She choked back a sob, "Eliza, w-where are you?"

"Over here Ari!" Eliza called, swinging her way down the spiral staircase, "What's got your knickers in twist, you never call me-" the words died in her throat as her amber eyes met Arya's blue.

"Ari? What happened?!" Eliza was at Arya's side in an instant, far faster than she would have managed outside of the fade. She gripped Arya's upper arm with one hand and tried to brush the tangled mess of hair out of her cousin's face with the other.

"He lied to m-me El, Jowan lied," Arya sobbed.

"What?"

"He's a blood mage El, and I helped him escape."

They had gone into the basement in search of their phylacteries. They had found Jowan's and destroyed it, but Arya's had already been sent to Denerim following her Harrowing. But that didn't matter; Jowan had assured her, he and Lily would help her escape. Maker, she had been such a fool.

"We got caught and he left me behind and they're…they're going to make me tranquil." Arya's knees buckled and she fell to the floor.

"No! They can't!" Eliza gasped, crouching in front of her cousin, pulling her hands away from her face and holding them tightly. "I won't let them… we'll come for you, Bethany, Carver and I, we'll break you out before they can-"

"No! You'll never make it in time El, and then you and Beth will be imprisoned here too, maker knows what they'd do to Carver."

"But-"

"Please, don't make this any worse than this has to be," she whispered.

Eliza pulled her younger cousin against her, wrapping her in her arms. The cousins sat that way for what felt like eternity, clinging to each other, making the most of their last moments together. Arya's sobs echoed through the fade as Hawke stroked her hair.

"They'll coming for me for me soon, I don't have much time." Arya took a deep breath, wiping her face. She looked up at Eliza resolute. "Promise me you won't come looking for me?"

"But-"

"I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you, and I… I don't want you to see me like that. Promise me?"

"I can’t just leave you-“

“Eliza, please.”

Eliza wanted to resist, to argue and fight until she was blue in the face, but the pleading, desperate look in her cousin’s eyes made her falter.  

“I…I promise.”

Arya sighed in relief. Trying to muster up a smile, she took Eliza’s face in her hands. "Goodbye El, I love you," she whispered.

"Wait! Not yet, don't g-" But  the figure of Arya Amell had already faded away, leaving Eliza Hawke kneeling alone in the fade.

"M-mage Amell?"

Arya knew that voice all too well. A voice that made her heart soar and butterflies flutter in her stomach. Soon, she'd never be able to feel that again. She'd never figure out if it was love or just an adolescent crush. She curled up tighter on the cold hard ground of the room that served as her cell, squeezing her eyes shut, trying to stop the flow of tears.

Maker, not him. Not now.

Footsteps. A pause.

"Arya?"

In spite of herself, she turned to look up in surprise; he'd never used her given name before. Cullen was knelt beside her, uncertainty etched across his face. As their eyes meet, his eyes widened.

"I-I came as soon as I heard, I had to see you before- M-maker, I'm so sorry"

She laughed hollowly as she pulled herself into a sitting position with her back against the wall, hugging her knees to her chest.

"There's nothing to apologise for Cullen," she sniffed, trying to wipe the tears off of her face, unable to look Cullen in the eye. Maker, why couldn't she stop crying? "It's my own fault, I trusted the wrong person and now I'm to be made-" Choking back a sudden sob, she buried her face in her arms.

Tranquil. The word hovered unspoken between them.

She heard the sound of plate hitting the floor before a warm, calloused hand gently grasped her upper arm. She gasped softly at the unexpected contact, before slowly looking up to meet his eye. She felt her heart stop at the look of concern and devastation on his face.

It was the only kindness she had been shown since Jowan's escape. Despite everything, he still trusted her. To him, she wasn't a monster. To him, she was still Arya.

The thought was enough to tip her over the edge again, and somehow she was suddenly in his arms, sobbing hysterically against his chest-plate. Cullen hesitated for just a moment before awkwardly wrapping his arms around her, the sudden urgency of the situation had broken every boundary. He slowly rubbed her back with one hand, stroking her hair with the other. After a while, the sobs started to subside.

"I should have realised," Arya murmured against him.

"You couldn't have known."

Her hands balled into fists against his chest as she looked up, her blue eyes icy. "He was my best friend, my brother, for seven years. We told each other everything! How could he keep that from me? I should have known."

But Cullen still did not pull away, still gazing at her intently. Embarrassed, Arya took a deep breath looked down at her hands, slowly unclenching them.

"Why are you doing this? You should hate me."

"I could never hate you."

She looked up at him again, surprised to find the gentleness and sincerity in his eyes. This was closer than they'd ever been before; she'd never noticed the darker flecks of amber in his golden eyes before. Her heart hammered in her chest. If this was her last chance to feel like this, Maker be damned, she would not waste it. Lips parted, she moved her face closer, and, Maker's breath, he wasn't moving away…

The sudden scraping of the key in the lock of the door broke the trance, and Arya leapt away from her Templar and back against the wall. She would not get him in trouble too.

"Ser Cullen, I thought I'd ordered you to stay in your quarters," Greagoir barked.

"B-but sir-"

"Silence! As I told you in my office, I will not change my mind. You are too close to this situation…this mage." He sneered the words. "You will leave immediately."

Cullen took one last look at Arya. His sorrow evident.

"Now, Cullen."

"I'm sorry, M-mage Amell." Cullen whispered.

Arya could not watch as he walked away from her. She barely noticed as they tied her wrists together and led her away. As if she could try to escape anyway, with them restraining her magic.

Irving stood there in the Harrowing Chamber, waiting for her execution party. He looked at her sadly; his star pupil, reduced to this.

Panic bubbled in her chest. "Irving, please, don't let them do this to me. I could-"

"I'm sorry, child," Maker, why did he have to look so disappointed in her, "This is the only way"

"Mage Arya Amell," Greagoir barked, "You knowingly aided the escape of a blood mage."

"I didn't-"

"Silence! You have proven yourself untrustworthy and a danger to the circle. You will be subjected to the rite of tranquillity, for the safety of yourself and others.”

Arya had finally run out of tears, but couldn't stop herself from shaking uncontrollably.

Greagoir approached her, lifting the lyrium brand to her forehead. “Consider this an act of mercy.”

Arya squeezed her eyes shut and tried to focus on her remaining emotions, savouring each one.

Love. Eliza, her only true family, who’d taught her to climb trees in the Fade, and could make her cry with laughter. Anger. Jowan, her friend, her brother, who had lied and betrayed her, leaving her alone to this fate. Joy. The sneaked glances, smiles and blushes with Cullen in the library. The thrill of their secret chess games in the dead of night.   Sadness. There were so many things she’d never experience. So many things she’d never get to feel. Wonder. The rush of magic through her veins as she healed a wound, or brought ice to her fingertips. Fear. What would become of her now? Would any fragment of her remain?

And then Arya Amell felt no more.