So anyway I'm purging my inbox.
Hm. I really need to purge my inboxes huh?
I wanna do more ask games with characters again sooo yeah. Gonna do that.
Sometimes I miss doodling on receipt paperâŚ
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Imma say this goes for unfinished stuff too XD
Unwritten/Unpublished fics asks!
For the fics you haven't started writing on yet, but you're planning on it! Or: fics you HAVE started on writing but haven't published (yet). Send a number and a fic!
1. What are you most excited about when you start to write it/publish it?
2. How did you get the idea to write this?
3. If unwritten, when do you think you will start writing it?
4. Is there anything in the fic you're unsure about including?
5. Is there any scene you're excited about writing?
6. Is there any specific ship you're planning to include?
7. What are your plans for -character-?
8. Which character is gonna have the biggest storyline?
9. Is there anything in the fic you're not so excited about writing?
10. If unpublished, can you show a sneak peek of what you've written?
11. Is there any scene you can't wait for people to react to when reading? Why?
12. How far have you planned ahead?
13. Is there any unwritten/unpublished fics you haven't mentioned you're gonna do?
14. Is there any unwritten/unpublished fics you planned on doing, but now you're feeling like you're gonna scrap those ideas?
15. Do you have any unwritten scene that you think about a lot?
16. Is there any written scene that you think about a lot?
17. When publishing it, will you have a posting schedule or will you just update whenever?
18. How many chapters do you plan to write ahead before publishing?
19. Is there any scene that you feel is really planned out/going to be really planned out?
20. Give a vague description of something that will happen without revealing too much
21. Is there any unwritten fic that you don't know if you ever will write?
22. Will this fic include more angst or more fluff?
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another kiss prompt
a kiss to make up for an argument
a dominating kiss to end an argumentÂ
a gentle kiss to ask forgivenessÂ
a kiss against shoulder blades as arms wrap around from behindÂ
a kiss against the shoulder after waking up beside each otherÂ
a kiss to distract
a kiss against tear stained cheek
a kiss on the browÂ
a kiss where theyâre both covered in blood
a kiss after one muse has killed for the otherÂ
a kiss after one muse has injured the otherÂ
a kiss between enemies who should be fightingÂ
a kiss between exes who meant to walk awayÂ
a playful kiss to make the other stop ramblingÂ
an adoring kiss because the other is ramblingÂ
a kiss to end sexual tensionÂ
an angry kissÂ
a tearful kissÂ
a kiss to prove a pointÂ
a hesitant kissÂ
a kiss from one muse who should be afraid of the otherÂ
a kiss from a muse who the other should be afraid ofÂ
kisses scattered along hardened jaw to try and soothÂ
a kiss as if trying to answer a questionÂ
a kiss between furrowed brows to try and comfortÂ
a kiss from someone the other didnât think thought of them that wayÂ
a kiss that says thank youÂ
a kiss on the corner of the mouth, hoping for more but expecting nothingÂ
an exploratory kiss, testing the waters between themÂ
a kiss on the forehead of one who is starting to fall asleepÂ
a kiss against the cheek after discovering the other is nappingÂ
a platonic kiss just meant to express overwhelming emotionÂ
a kiss to comfort both parties
a kiss stemmed from reliefÂ
a kiss to make the other believe professed feelingsÂ
a possessive kiss to remind the other who they belong toÂ
a possessive kiss to show the world they belong to each other
a kiss stemmed from jealousyÂ
a kiss to make someone else jealousÂ
a biting, passionate kissÂ
a kiss against the neck which feels more like a bite, teeth bruising skinÂ
a desperate kiss as if they are convinced theyâll slip through each otherâs fingersÂ
a kiss to make each other feel aliveÂ
a kiss stolen away in a corner, ignoring crowdsÂ
a kiss after being pulled into an alley to have a moment to themselvesÂ
a kiss after grabbing the otherâs arm and pulling them back closeÂ
a kiss to convince the other to stayÂ
a kiss like theyâre trying to convince the other to love themÂ
a hopeful kiss in the rain
a desperate kiss in the rainÂ
an angry kiss in the rainÂ
a possessive kiss in the rainÂ
a playful, happy kiss in the rainÂ
a passionate kiss stemmed from previous heartbreak in the rainÂ
a kiss in the rain to make up like itâs a damn romcomÂ
a kiss in the rain filled with the foreboding of a goodbyeÂ
a kiss to make the other stop being stubbornÂ
a kiss after treating a woundÂ
a defiant kissÂ
a kiss between partners in crime in front of someone they hold captiveÂ
a kiss to anger a third partyÂ
an adrenaline filled kiss shared after committing a crimeÂ
a surprise kiss just because the other couldnât stop thinking about itÂ
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good morning. claim the energy
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I know yâall wanna see more SotRFitH but it is so disjointed. Part of me wants to revamp it, but the other part of me might just drop an exposition chapter in there before I get back to regular updates and finishing it.
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Itâs good for the soul okay
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There is only one bed
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Does this fanfiction make sense? Hold water? Not an ounce! Does that mean Iâm going to stop writing it? Not an ounce! Iâm a moron with a keyboard and half an idea and thatâs your problem now. God couldnât stop me and neither could my dad, and now Iâm on your screen with another thousand words of whatever the fuck this is. Bon appetite bitch!
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Does anyone else have that one fanfiction that theyâre dying to to write but itâs like, mega long and basically a whole universe, and then youâve got head-cannons to go with that fanfiction and like fanfiction to go with that fanfiction an back-stories for every character and you get frikinâ feels about that universe and itâd be the most coolest thing if you could just be bothered to frikinâ write it.
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as a fanfic writer, the best thing you can do for yourself is invest in the stories you want to read. donât think about what will get popular, because it will make you miserable. write about what means the most to you. if you want to write pure smut, do it. if you want to make intricate worlds and complex characters, do it. write and write and write. contrary to popular belief, good art does not have to make you suffer. all my very best work is the stuff that i enjoyed writing
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HELLO FANFIC AUTHORS ITâS TIME FOR A VOCAB LESSON
wanton:Â sexually immodest or promiscuous
wonton:Â a type of dumpling commonly found in Chinese cuisines
YOUR CHARACTERS SHOULD NOT BE MOANING LIKE A CHINESE DUMPLING OKAY THANK YOU AND GOOD NIGHT
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To Running Away and Moping - Chapter Six
((A first dance and an Enchanterâs approval. Maybe I should make a cover for this who knows.))
A time after the events of the Exalted Council, Warden Commander Neria Surana has returned with a cure for the Taint, and an heir is born to King Alistair and Queen Anora. Denerim is extremely crowded with the festivities of the Royal Christening. Commander Cullen Rutherford, stifled by the palace, nobles, and too many feelings attempts to find lodging elsewhere. The only place with open rooms is the Pearl. It seems he and Neria Surana had similar ideas. But there is only one decent room. And of course only one bed. Both of them probably needed to stop moping. But in truth it was more alluring an idea to have someone to mope with.
Available on AO3~!
A soft, lilting melody filled the ballroom, signaling that dancing would start soon. It was a very elegant, comforting melody. Neria caught a glance of Alistair and Anora, and moved to, decidedly, the other side of the room. This was an old dance, and the way Alistair barely met her eyes told her he understood where she stood.
She vaguely wondered if she could slip out if she asked Leliana to make her leaving a Divine Order of the Chantry. She giggled at the thought of the horrified but knowing look that her friendâs face would contort into. However, the nobles approaching to mingle and speak with her told her that would be fruitless after all. Oddly enough, as the Inquisition was announced and entered, she found she didnât want to leave. The Inquisitor greeted the royalty, but the other members seemed to take their different places around the room. Hawke was introduced and quickly followed. If she could simply stick around them for the night this would pass quickly.
Still, judging by how many people were addressing her as the âHero of Fereldan,â perhaps this would be rather painless after all.
A sharp crescendo in the song signaled that dancing proper would be soon. Already, she saw people pairing off. Automatically, her eyes searched for Teagan, but Isolde was already on his arm. Her eyes caught Anora, showing concern. She and Neria had already spoken about the first dance multiple times. Nobles would get the wrong idea if she didnât dance. They would think she was available. In all technicalities, she was, but they didnât need to know that. She had spent quite a bit of time perfectly constructing her veneer of unapproachability after she and Alistair parted ways. She didnât very well want that to crumble now.
The elven woman was beginning to wrack her brain to find which noble would be the most painless to explain her situation to and ask to dance when a hand appeared before her.
Neria blinked, finding that the hand belonged to none other than Cullen.
âMay I have this dance?â He asked.
Neria faltered. He seemed earnest enough, but Neria hesitated.
âThis will give people certain ideas, Cullen.â She cautioned. âYouâll likely have to dance with me every day of thisâŚâ
âYou helped me with the room.â He reasoned. âBesides, you owe me an explanation about your dog.â
Neria giggled. âWas thatâŚsass, Commander? I didnât know you could sass.â
Cullen rolled his eyes, but then Neriaâs hand slipped into his and he seemed to relax. They began moving to the dance floor, taking a spot rather easily. His hand was rather stiff as he moved it to her waist. Neria wondered if he was rubbed raw by all this as she was. Memories and old habits and too many conflicting feelings bubbling to the surface.
They were different now. Equals. She was the Hero of Fereldan. She had to remember that.
âI owe you for this.â Neria said. âCan you dance at all? I donât imagine youâve gotten very many opportunities.â
âIâll manage.â
There was a pause in the music, and then another, more bouncy melody began. Neria stepped a second before Cullen. There was a fumbling of feet, but soon enough they were stepping in perfect rhythm to the waltz.
âSo, about your MabariâŚâ
Neria groaned as she stepped away from him briefly, and then back together. âFineâŚYou know of the Ash Warriors yes?â Cullen nodded. âWell, there was a group of them in Ostagar. He was a sick dog, and I got the herb that saved him. I was able to keep him calm and under control, and they suggested imprinting him to me. So, naturally, I asked about names..â
The melody dipped down, and Cullenâs ears turned pink as he twirled her away and then pulled her back perhaps too close.
âSo Cullen was already his name.â He surmised.
Neria looked rather sheepish. âWellâŚNot exactly. As it turns out, the Ash Warriors are awfully superstitious. Mabari can learn new names from a new owner. According to them, it is bad luck to keep an old name, and itâs best to name the dogs after something familiar. Something about the Mabari feeding off your feelings and such. Such as a fallen comrade or friend. And everything with Jowan and the Circle was a tadâŚfresh. Your name was just what came to mind.â
âAnd it was better than Barkspawn?â
âExactly.â
Cullen chuckled. âI didnât know names were so important.â
âI didnât either.â Neria admitted. Once again there was a twirl. She noted that she didnât even have to think about her steps with the dance anymore as they glided across the floor. âApologies if you were expecting something more grand.â
âNot at all. I believe I know a dwarf that might be interested in the story.â
âOh Maker, is the next thing heâll write about me?âÂ
âI think heâs working on something to do with the Inquisition, actually.â
âThat will have a much better ending.â Cullen chuckled at that. He looked lighter. Younger. Neriaâs chest swelled with pride for a moment, before a nagging unease set in again. They shifted on the dance floor as the song wound into its final steps. âYouâreâŚalright, arenât you?â
Cullen quirked a brow at her âYes. I am. Why?â
She paused. âThis will have people talking, Cullen. You know that.â
âWeâre starting a clean slate, Neria. Wasnât that the agreement?â
âRight, yes. Clean slate while sharing a room at a brothel, and giving all of the Noble Court the notion that we have eyes for each other.â She laughed when he winced. A pang of guilt ran through her. It was not lost on her that he was trying. âIâm not unhappy about it, Cullen. I just want to understand. Make sure youâre not pushing yourself.â
âI didnât think before I asked you do dance. I didnât know that it would matter to you, considering...Does it? Matter to you?â
Slowly, the tune of the waltz faded. She and Cullen bowed to each other. Was he always so handsome? She cleared her throat as the music for the second dance began, and the dance floor shifted. Cullen offered her his arm to lead her away, and Neria found, oddly, when she heard the ring of Anoraâs laughter, joined shortly by Alistairâs, there was no pain. No bitterness. No hurt.
âNo.â She finally answered. Cullen raised a brow. âIt doesnât matter to me. Let them think what they want. Weâre trying to be friends again. Thatâs all that matters.â
He seemed to relax at that, and she smiled. Over his shoulder, she caught sight of puffy sleeves. A very worried looking Josephine stood beside a concerned Thom.Â
âI think Lay Montilliet is in need of you.â
Neria nodded behind him, and Cullen turned with a sigh. âYes I am sure I will get a scolding. Keep me updated on things.â
âWill do, Commander.â
With another polite nod to each other, Cullen was turning towards Josephine, who looked as though she was holding herself back from rushing over and throttling him. No doubt Cullen would play dumb, and things would work themselves out. When Neria turned back to the dance floor, she caught sight of Anora, whoâs gaze held approval and something Neria didnât catch. Alistair was staring as well, but she didnât have time to catch his gaze before Vivienne was approaching again.
âWell now. That surprised us all..â
Neria rolled her eyes. âIt was only a dance, Enchanter.â
âA first dance at a Fereldan Ball. With a Templar.â
âHe is Commander of the Inquisition now, not a Templar.â Neria cleared her throat. Her tone was perhaps too disapproving, and she did not miss the way Vivienneâs eyebrows rose in surprise. âAnd an old friend. He was suitable.â
Vivienne hummed. Across the dance floor, Cullen was scratching the back of his neck as Josephine spoke perhaps a little too quickly. The Inquisitor was soon laughing, no doubt learning the implications of it all from her ambassador. Her gaze swept around the room. A few nobles were already looking between them and whispering. Now that the first dance was over, servants were beginning to make rounds with refreshments and drinks. She noticed even a few of them were gossiping as the nobles. Sweet Maker word would be to Orlais by nightfall.
âWell. Regardless, I approve.â Vivienne stated.Â
A servant approached with drinks, and Vivienne retrieved one for both of them. Neria blinked as she took it.
âWhat?â
âI approve, my dear.â Vivienne repeated. âOf you and our dear Commander.â
âI told you it was only a dance.â The look in the Enchanterâs eye told Neria that she didnât believe her. âIf anything it was a ploy to keep other less desirable suitors away.â
âWhatever you say, my dear.â Vivienne gave her a grin. âA pity, though. I believe the two of you would be good for each other.â
With those parting words and a polite nod, Vivienne was stepping away to mingle effortlessly with another group of nobles from Orlais. Neria blinked, struck suddenly by it all. She had admired Cullen back during her days in the Circle. But she had written them off as the fancies of a naĂŻve girl. Had written things off completely after the Circle fell. They were becoming friends again, which was more than she ad dared hope for. She hadnât at all consideredâŚ
Her eyes met Cullenâs from across the room, and suddenly her chest throbbed. A familiar flutter in her chest that only one other had elicited outside of the Circle tower. Her cheeks burned as she turned away, only to find Teagan behind her.
âSheâs right, you know.â Teagan said, nodding to Vivienne. Andrasteâs knickers had he heard all of that? Neria watched with some form of horror as Teagan looked between Cullen and Alistair, his head tilting as he seemed to examine the commander. âHe does seem to be your type.â
Neria sputtered for a moment, unsure of how exactly to respond. She could feel the blush creep up her pointed ears. Her free fist bunched in her skirts as she hid her embarrassment behind a perhaps too-fast drink of the sweet wine in her hands. She was the damn hero of Fereldan, slayer of the Archdemon. Why was she getting flustered over a dance and a few misdirected words? She cleared her throat. She had other, more important, things to worry about than the long buried crush for a man she was on shaky ground with at best.
She was surprised she was able to keep her voice level. âTeagan please donât tease like that.â
Teagan chuckled beside her. âA thousand pardons, my Lady.â
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To Running Away and Moping - Chapter Five
((Cullen meets a friend, and follows the Mabari to the plot. Also AO3 is already up to chapter 6 because I forgot to post the others on Tumblr so I am doing that now. Maybe I should make a cover for this who knows.))
A time after the events of the Exalted Council, Warden Commander Neria Surana has returned with a cure for the Taint, and an heir is born to King Alistair and Queen Anora. Denerim is extremely crowded with the festivities of the Royal Christening. Commander Cullen Rutherford, stifled by the palace, nobles, and too many feelings attempts to find lodging elsewhere. The only place with open rooms is the Pearl. It seems he and Neria Surana had similar ideas. But there is only one decent room. And of course only one bed. Both of them probably needed to stop moping. But in truth it was more alluring an idea to have someone to mope with.
Available on AO3~!
Something was wrong. Neria had muttered as much to herself as she excused herself to follow the elven servant out of the courtyard and into the palace. Cullen had hoped perhaps Leliana had called her old friend to see her, but when the Warden Commander was absent from dinner, an odd sort of foreboding fell into the pit of his stomach.
âItâs some Warden Business keeping her away.â Leliana, Divine Victoria, had assured everyone who asked. âShe assured me sheâd be present for the dancing.â
This seemed to set everyone at-ease, though Cullen didnât miss the pointed look that Leliana and King Alistair shared.
âI donât like this.â Cullen muttered to Cassandra as they ate. âSomething is wrong.â
âMost likely, with our luck.â The Inquisitor agreed. âBut you must admit, it will be exciting to watch her work.â
Cullen winced, though agreed. Heâd seen Neria âworkâ before. He was curious, but didnât fancy a repeat showing. He was about to voice his opinions on things, suggest the Inquisitor question Leliana, but then King Alistair was addressing them. Cullen had to admit it was odd to speak with Alistair, one who had been a bunk mate during their time in the Templars, so formally now.
âOh wait, let me guess. Then the Archdemon swooped down from the sky onto Haven.â Anora rolled her eyes as Alistair grinned. âI told you swooping was bad.â
Anora did give a giggle at that. It was relieving to see he seemed to have changed little, and certainly still had his sense of humor.
Dinner ended with little fanfare, giving way to another bit of mingling before the true festivities of the ball began. Cullen found himself against a wall, completely out of place. He had rebuffed another noble ladyâs offer to dance for the tenth time that night when a dog trotted into the room. A grey Mabari with a rather posh collar. It was a large beast, his fur marred with faint scars, but the grey around his muzzle gave away his age. Cullen blinked as it seemed to trot to his spot on the wall, sniffing at his boots.
âAh. Taken your spot, have I?â Cullen asked. The dog looked up at him, giving a gruff bark. âMy apologies.â
Cullen took a step to the side, making room for the Mabari to sit where he just was.
âAnd who do you belong to?â Cullen asked. He felt rather ridiculous speaking to a dog, but he was likely a much better conversationalist than any noble there. âKing Alistair?â The dog gave a snort. It felt disapproving. âI guess that was the wrong guess.â
The dog looked up at him for a moment, but then his eyes wandered to the other nobles around. The Orlesians seemed to give him a wide space, but a few brave Fereldans ventured to give him a customary pat on the head. He didnât seem to mind.
âYour owner trained you well, eh? You donât even flinch at all the strangers.â
The dogâs ears perked suddenly, and he looked a completely different direction. He stood, trotting with little care away from Cullen and down a corridor that led away from the ballroom and further into the castle.
Cullen frowned. That wasâŚodd. The Mabari seemed keen to wait in their spot, looking at every passerby. Was he waiting for someone? And where was he going now? He glanced around the corridor that people had congregated in. The Inquisition seemed occupied with mingling. Surely no one would mind if he slipped away.
With another quick look to ensure no one seemed as if they would be needing him, he turned and followed the Mabari. The dog gave him a glance as he turned down the corridor he had, though seemed unperturbed as he turned again to descend some stairs. Cullen followed. Surely the dog must belong to someone in the castle, lest they both get hopelessly lost. Voices floated to him as they came to the bottom of the stairs and another corridor. It seemed like this was where servants quarters would be?
âAnd how did you get in here again?â Was that Neria?
âI told you my dear Warden, I was invited.â An Antivan accent answered.
âInvited, of course. Next youâre going to tell me that Alistair invited Sten and Shale too.â
Lelianaâs voice he recognized. âI believe Sten declined coming, and Shale was insulted that he invited her with a carrier pidgeon.â
Neria laughed. A right and proper one that echoed a high melody off the stone walls. âThat sounds like it would have been hilarious to see.â
The Mabari barked suddenly, his tail wagging happily. He took off, rounding the corner so fast he nearly slid into the wall. There was a startled shriek from Leliana.
âEasy with the paws boy, you know my dress is white now.â
Neriaâs voice sounded again, so jovial that Cullen almost didnât recognize it. âCullen! There you are! Look at you! You gained weight. Is Anora sneaking you table scraps again?â
The Commander froze for a moment. Was that his name? Another happy bark from the Mabari. Then a loud crash and a cry of pain from the unfamiliar Antivan voice. Cullen rushed forward, afraid something had happened. As he rounded the corner he found Leliana and Neria shoulder-to-shoulder, laughing as an elven man struggled under the Mabari, who seemed to have pinned him down.
âYes yes you win! You win!â He cried. The Mabari relented. And soon the man was tossing him a small crunchy treat. The dog caught it effortlessly, his tail wagging. âYou only won because I was called. Next time, my hiding place will be flawless!â
âGood boy, Cullen!â Neria kneeled, seemingly uncaring that her white skirt was on the floor and a large dog was jumping at her with delight. âCatching that sneaky Crow! Thatâs my goodââ
âAh. Commander.â
Cullen had thought heâd sneak away, but Leliana had spotted him. He had a feeling she knew he was there the whole time.
âYour Worship.â He greeted. âI uh, didnât mean to intrude. I was followingâŚWell I was concerned aboutâŚâ
He couldnât find the words. He suddenly felt like an absolute fool, following a dog around an unfamiliar palace forâŚwhat? Out of curiosity? Because he liked Mabari perhaps too much?
Cullen, the Mabari, gave a happy bark, trotting over to sit by the Commander, not unlike how they had been sitting in the corridor of the party minutes ago. Neriaâs eyebrows raised, looking between the two of them for a moment before standing.
âMaker you are so Fereldan.â She turned to Leliana. âZeveran and I can take it from here.â
âVery well.â She said. âKeep me informed. What should IâŚShould we inform Alistair and Anora?â
Neria frowned. Cullen didnât like the way her brows drew into a like of worry. It was odd to see Leliana defer to anyone so completely. Even with the Inquisitor there was an edge between them. She guided and advised, but always seemed to keep Lavellan at armâs length. As if she didnât fully trust her. With Neria, however, it simply felt different, but familiar. Complete and utter trust of allies that had been through hardship together. Sisters united for a common cause.
His gut had been correct. Something was wrong.
âTell Alistair that Iâll be working while Iâm here. Donât mention anything to Anora, though. She has enough to worry about. Let her enjoy herself.â
Leliana nodded. âThe dancing will be soon.â
Neria gave a groan and a wave. âYes, yes Iâll be there soon. Maker, I wore the wrong shoes for thisâŚâ
âYou certainly did. We can remedy that tomorrow.â
Neria gave a sincere smile to Leliana. The Divine turned to leave, giving Cullen and the Mabari both a polite nod as she left.
âAlright.â Neria was turning away from them both soon enough. âHave you got the map, Zev?â
The elf grinned, producing a piece of parchment. Neria looked at something on the wall Cullen couldnât make out, and then marked something on the parchment.
âThatâsâŚodd. The placement is all wrong if theyâre wanting this to be a summoning.â
âPerhaps we have not found them all.â Zeveran decided.
âI hate to ask you to work while there are supposed to be festivities.â Neria said.
âNo need, my dear.â Zeveran rolled the parchment back up to stow it in his vest. He gave her a bow, making a show of kissing her hand. âYou know I love to serve.â
Neria laughed again. That was more than Cullen had hard her laugh sinceâŚHis mind ventured to the Circle and her days with Anders and Jowan. Still, she was lighter.
âStill, I wonât make you do this alone.â
She whistled sharply, and suddenly the Mabari at his side went rigid. He stood, immediately trotting over to Neria. It was impressive, how quickly the beast went from lovable pet to working animal.
âTrack. Help Zeveran.â She pointed to something on the wall, which the dog sniffed at eagerly.
Zeveran grinned. âAnother contest then.â
The Mabari barked happily at Neria, and with a loving pat on the head and scratch behind the ears, he and Zeveran, the elf, were off. Zeveran seemed to all but disappear as the dog padded down the hallway, moving incredibly silent for a dog his size.
Neria sighed as they disappeared, finally turning to him. âWeâre trying to keep this hidden for right now.â She said, âSo Iâd appreciate it if you kept this from the Inquisition until we have more information. Weâre not trying to cause panic.â
Cullen frowned. âKeep what from them?â
Neria gestured to the spot on the wall before her. Cullen moved closer, and his eyes widened. Painted onto the stone of the wall was a circular symbol with a few runic symbols around. It was red, dripping in a few places. His gut churned at what exactly had been used to paint it. He knew a summoning circle when he saw it.
âBlood magic.â The words were bitter on his tongue.
âYouâd think so.â Neria said, reaching out to run her finger along one of the runes. âBut I donât feel any magic.â
Cullen blinked. âWhat?â
âThe reason blood magic is usually used for summoning isnât just because of the way it weakens the veil.â Neria said. âItâs because you can trigger it from a distance. You donât have to charge the runes with your magic and then cast the summoning spell. The blood IS the magic, so you donât have to charge it. As long as youâre within range, it will trigger.â
âItâs a little unsettling how much you know.â Cullen commented.
âYes well. You learn a lot about Blood Magic during a trip to Tevinter.â Neria shrugged. âWhat I donât understand is why there is no magic. If it were blood magic there would be something. This is the second one like this. They havenât charged it either, which means either this one has been used already or this wasnât done by a mage.â
Cullenâs brows furrowed. âWhy would someone who isnât a mage draw a summoning circle for blood magic?â
âI donât know.â Neria admitted, then gave him a grin. âA fun mystery, right? Zeveran and Culââ She stuttered for a moment, clearing her throat to mask it. âMy Mabari will find anything else, and weâll get more answers. Until then, we act like nothing is wrong.â
Cullen rolled his eyes. âRight. No blood mages possibly summoning in mass.â He groused. âAnd we shouldnât tell anyone that would be a disaster.â
âExactly.â
Cullen frowned. He didnât like that. It wasnât enough. Already his mind was racing. Guards were needed for security. They could use their scouts to ensure the perimeter was safe. Perhaps a few Templars could be used to ensure there was no errant magic. But then he remembered the merriment of dinner. The smiles of those mingling in groups. The laughter that was a near-constant sound from the festivities in the Market. Chaos would be a disaster for not only the event, but the morale of the people of Fereldan, so fresh from a Blight, rebellion, war, and disaster from the sky.
His thoughts were interrupted by a spark that flew from Neriaâs hand. It collided with the symbol, putting a dent in the stone. The summoning circle was ruined, and unable to be used. There was little comfort in that.
âAlright. If Iâm late for the dancing after not being at dinner, Anora will have my head.â She straightened her skirt and vest, turning to walk back the way heâd followed her dog. Her heels clicked against the stone. After a pause, she turned to him, âAre you coming?â
He had to admit, he didnât want to. He wanted to stay and examine the symbol. Hunt for more. Ensure there was no threat. Yet, somehow, when Neria tilted her head at him, he found that he trusted her judgement. Perhaps just because he didnât see another course of action.
âYes. I am.â He said, moving to trail behind her.
They walked in relative silence, climbing the stairs, only the sound of footsteps echoing off stone. Until a question came to his mind.
âDid you name your Mabari after me?â
Neria seemed to falter in her steps, nearly tripping over her own feet. âItâs a common name.â
Cullen rolled his eyes, finding himself chuckle. âOf course.â
âItâs very Fereldan. And Alistair wanted to call him Barkspawn!â
At that, Cullen did laugh. âNot exactly the best.â
âIt was better than Morriganâs idea. Dog.â
âThe lesser of three evils, then.â
âExactly.â Neria agreed. âJust that.â
He didnât believe her, but then they were emerging once again into the corridor with mingling nobles and refreshments. Neria was intercepted by someone wearing formal mage robes, and she happily accepted a drink from them. Cullen moved back to the spot he was standing in before the Mabari met him. A spot for Cullens, he mused as he politely gave a nod to a Fereldan Noble who passed.
The doors to the ballroom opened with a small announcement. As he caught a glance at Neria as she moved to enter, he wondered how someone who faced an Archdemon could look so nervous.
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To Running Away and Moping - Chapter Four
((Night one of a ball. The Inquisitor and the Hero of Fereldan meet. There will never be rest. Also AO3 is already up to chapter 6 because I forgot to post the others on Tumblr so I am doing that now.))
A time after the events of the Exalted Council, Warden Commander Neria Surana has returned with a cure for the Taint, and an heir is born to King Alistair and Queen Anora. Denerim is extremely crowded with the festivities of the Royal Christening. Commander Cullen Rutherford, stifled by the palace, nobles, and too many feelings attempts to find lodging elsewhere. The only place with open rooms is the Pearl. It seems he and Neria Surana had similar ideas. But there is only one decent room. And of course only one bed. Both of them probably needed to stop moping. But in truth it was more alluring an idea to have someone to mope with.
Available on AO3~!
âAndrasteâs flamingâŚI hate my hair.â Neria muttered to herself as she looked herself over in the mirror.
Despite her best efforts to pull her hair into something Anora would call âminimum effortâ for the royal ball, she could simply not get it to obey. She knew sheâd hear it from her if she didnât do something intricate. A lecture about staying at the castle to have ladies-in-waiting do her hair.
She decided, eventually, to pull her too-wavy hair into a low bun, and disguise the simple style with two braids running from her temple to the back of her neck, circling the bun and tucking in what she hoped looked elegant with a twinge of romance.
âIf Morrigan is good enough for Orlais, Iâm good enough for Fereldan.â Neria muttered, standing from her seat to inspect herself.
Wisps still stuck out this way and that from her forehead, and there was a long strand that curled near her pointed ear. Sheâd decorated it with a blue ribbon and bow that matched her formal vest. Her skirts fanned out widely below. On her forearms were bracers embellished with the Grey Warden crest, more for decoration than anything, the metal too thin and flexible to give any real protection. They matched the pendant she wore that nestled just above the cleavage shown by the low front, and the ear cuff sheâd had commissioned for her first ball. No use hiding what she truly was.
She didnât look bad at all.
âAre you ready yet?â Cullenâs voice came from the other side of the privacy screen.
âYou didnât have to wait for me.â Neria chided gently, though stepped out from behind the screen with easy grace. âWonât the Inquisition miss you if youâre late?â
She didnât miss the way Cullenâs eyes flitted over her. Face, neck, chest, back to her face. His cheeks were red. Neria suddenly felt infinitely prouder.
Cullen cleared his throat, suddenly focusing very hard on the adjustments of his gloves and the sash over his shoulder. âI could ask you the same thing.â
âItâs in style to be fashionably late.â Neria said as she adjusted her skirt and placed her own sash around her shoulders. âLuckily, we won't be.â
âGood.â Cullen did seem relieved, tying off the sash at his waist. He tugged at his collar. âI always feel so stuffy in these.â
âYouâreâŚhang on.â Neria stepped forward, reaching up to adjust his collar. âItâs crooked. Itâs not going to sit right against your neck.â She moved it, unbuttoning a few buttons to re-adjust. âThere.â She said with a grin. âThat better?â
Cullenâs cheeks were red. Neria blinked. She didnât realize how close she had gotten until now. They were nearly chest to chest, nothing but a breath between them. The elven woman cleared her throat, taking a step back.
âCome on. The carriage should be hereâŚâ
Cullen blinked. âA carriage?â
âWell Iâm not walking the back streets of Denerim in my finest.â
Cullen raised a brow. Neria had a feeling he had half-expected walking the back streets of Denerim in their finest to be the plan, but Neria didnât fancy getting mugged halfway there. She knew crime in Denerim had improved, but two finely-dressed individuals still made for prime targets. When they stepped onto the balcony, a small carriage waited for them at the back entrance.
âI thought it was just you.â The young man driving the carriage called to Neria as she and Cullen descended the balcony to the street behind the Pearl.
âSorry, Connor. Change of plan.â She gave him an apologetic smile. âSeems Iâll have an escort after all.â
âUncle Teagan will be disappointed.â His eyes widened when he realized who Cullen was. Neria should have known the Commander of the Inquisition should have been recognizable. âThatâsâŚ!â
âAn old friend.â Neria said casually.Â
âAt the Pearl?!â
âDonât worry.â
The boy, Connor, sighed in defeat. âAlways a surprise with you, Auntie Neria.â
Neria only smiled at the boy, reaching up to squeeze his hand. Connor gave her a smile as he squeezed back, and that made her feel infinitely lighter. Cullen opened the door to the carriage, offering a hand to help her climb into the cramped space. The carriage was barely big enough for the two of them, and as they sat across from each other, their knees touched. Neria tried to ignore the odd way it felt so casually intimate. Sheâd never had any problem being tactile withâŚanyone before. It used to drive Anders and Jowan insane. Was this just because it was Cullen? Because of what he used to be?
Soon enough, the carriage began to move, swaying softly as the horse pulled them along. Neria tried, again, to stop herself from reading the Commander. She focused on the crisp evening air. Th view of the setting sun as it disappeared here and there behind buildings as they rode. Cullen âs eyes were squarely out the window as the lights of the market and palace drew near, but they were soon flickering to Neria, and above her to the small window that gave view of the driver.
âHeâs Lord Eamonâs son.â Neria explained before Cullen could ask. âHeâs a mage. Had a brush with a nasty demon during the Blight. Heâs been a littleâŚlost since the Circles got disbanded.â
Lost was an understatement. She was well aware that Connor blamed himself for all that happened at Redcliffe. All the lives lost. The Desire Demon poisoning his mother and uncle. She understood that all too well, but she couldnât let the boy carry such a burden.
Cullen nodded, though had a distinct look of pity in his eye. âHeâs young.â
âToo young.â Neria agreed, attempting to give an optimistic smile. âBut heâs a bright young man. Heâs doing well.â
He nodded. The carriage turned, bumping against the cobblestone roads. Their legs pressed against each other now as they both seemed to relax on the ride.
âYouâve been helping him?â Cullen asked.
She blinked at him. âOf course. He was terrified as a boy. I helped him control his magic. Irving and I both took him to the Circle when it was time. I helped him settle in. When they were disbanded I visited Redcliffe as much as I could.â She paused. âI know what being accosted by a demon is like. Besides, Iâm half responsible for what happened anyway.â
âWhat do you mean?â
Neria frowned, her eyes casting down to her hands as they sat in her lap. Sheâd been the one to help Jowan escape. Of course, sheâd do the same if she had to do it over again. But Jowan was the one who had taught Connor to hide his powers. Who had poisoned Eamon under the orders of Loghain. Sheâd heard over and over again from Alistair, Leliana, and Morrigan that it wasnât her fault, but it never left her mind. None of it did.
âIf I hadnâtâŚWith JowanâŚâ Her voice trailed off. It was on the tip of her tongue to explain this to Cullen, but then the carriage was pulling to a halt.
âWe have arrived.â Connor called.
Neria sighed, slumping back into her chair. Already she could hear the soft chattering of nobles and others, gathering at the palace before things truly began that evening. Mingling in the courtyard and the throne room as dinner was prepared. Soon there would be eating and dancing and far too little to drink. Maybe she could still run back to Amaranthine.
Cullen rolled his eyes. âCome on. At least itâs not the Winter Palace.â
She groaned. âThank the Maker for that.â
Cullen moved to open the door and step out of the carriage first. He offered her a hand to guide her down. Thankfully, Connor had dropped them off inside the main gates, a little ways from the courtyard. They wouldnât be immediately seen by many, and could still make an entrance to the group already gathering. A few familiar faces caught her eye, though no sight of the Divine herself, she imagined she would be inside with Alistair and Anora.
Connor seemed a little lost as Cullen helped Neria from the carriage. That was to be his role, after all. His way of getting out of the ball itself, escorting her down. Crowds were still a lot for him, and thankfully Eamon had agreed to let him sit the festivities in the Palace out if he was seen being present in come capacity. âShall I be here for you tonight, Auntie Neria?â
âPlease.â She all but begged. âThank you, Connor.â
The boy smiled to her, nodding politely to Cullen before guiding the horse and carriage away. Neria took a breath, standing straighter. She was the Hero of Fereldan. Now was the time to act like it.
âI should go join the Inquisition.â Cullen said.
âOf course.â A Noble in an Orlesian mask approached and she greeted him pleasantly, allowing him to kiss her hand. It was all a show. Someone wanting to meet her in person. âOh! I need to find Warden Rainier. I believe he came with you all, yes?â
âI believe so.â Cullen agreed curtly. Neria didnât miss the way his own posture had straightened, his arms at his side in what she could only describe as âat attentionâ as he walked. Not did she miss the group of noble ladies already eyeing him up.
âYou have admirers, Commander.â
At first, Cullen arched a questioning brow at her. She nodded across the garden, where a group of ladies in frilly dresses and metallic masks were whispering amongst themselves, giggling as they nodded over to Cullen. He groaned.
âMakerâs breath there will be no end to this.â
Neria opened her mouth to ask what he meant, but then another noble approached. Neria smiled as she recognized the shock of red hair and the braid pushed behind his ear.
âTeagan!â She grinned.
âNeria, dear.â Teagan greeted. He pulled her into an embrace. It was familiar, and made Neria a bit relieved, and she relaxed if only a little. She and Teagan might have flirted briefly once, but he treated her much more as an Uncle now. The embrace was more familial than anything. It reminded her of Irving.
âWho is this?â Teagan asked. âAn escort?â
Cullen cleared his throat, hiding his reddening cheeks with a firm handshake with Teagan. Neria was more graceful. âNo. Heâs the Commander of the Inquisition. An old friend from my time in the Circle. I met him on the way in. Cullen, this is Bann Teagan of Redcliffe.â
The brow Teagan raised told her that she didnât necessarily believe her, but it wasnâtâŚentirely a lie.
âI should get to the others.â Cullen said, perhaps too quickly. âIf youâll excuse me.â
âOf course. See you inside.â Neria gave Cullen a nod, and he bowed in return. It was impressive, how well heâd slipped into his role as commander. She turned back to Teagan. âAre you alone?â
âIsolde is inside.â Teagan said. âFrom your time in the Circle?â
âWeâve told you about the Templar we rescued?â
âAh. Of course.â Teagan offered her his arm to guide her further through the courtyard. She took it gratefully, allowing him to bring her to the table of refreshment. âYou are in top form tonight, my lady.â
âYou donât have to fret, Teagan.â Neria laughed as he offered her a drink and a plate of sweets. âYou remember Iâm technically still an Arlessa, yes? This is not my first ball.â
âYou havenât been to Denerim in years.â He replied. âWe were worried you might never visit again.â
âI canât stay away long.â Neriaâs voice grew softer. The words sounded like a lie on her tongue. She might have stayed in Amaranthine longer if Nathaniel had refused. If Connor wasnât here. âBesides, Itâs time to move on.â
âIs it?â Teagan asked, his eyebrows raising. âThatâs good to hear. You know, the prince of Starkhaven himself is supposed to be here. And I cannot tell you how many requests Eamon has gotten to court you.â
Neria groaned. âI almost regret leaving that in his hands. Do I want to know? Is there even anyone worth my attention?â
âNot really.â He admitted with a laugh. âBut Iâm sure your dance card will be full tonight. But you should know, my offer of marriage for convenience still stands.â
âAnd have Isolde glare daggers at me for the rest of my days? Iâm flattered, Teagan but I must refuse.â
âSheâs not so bad.â
âIf you say so.â Neria drained her glass. âPlease tell Eamon not to accept any offers.â
âHe knows better. You donât have to despise him so.â
Neria rolled her eyes. She still remembered how Eamon had looked at Alistair before the Landsmeet. As if he was a piece of meat, or a puppet ready for his strings to be plucked. The only reason Alistair was on the throne was because he himself told Neria it was what he wanted. Eamon had been furious when the plan for him to marry Anora came to light, something Neria still took satisfaction in.
âDo you have a first dance partner?â Teagan asked, giving a polite nod to a group of nobles that passed. All the eyes on her made Neriaâs skin crawl.
âDo I ever?â Neria hid her rue smile behind a bite of the tiny, too-sweet cake.
Teagan rolled his eyes. âYouâre lucky a warden is here.â
âSpeaking of, where is the Inquisition?â
âIâll introduce you to the ambassador.â Teagan offered, âSheâs lovely. Youâd enjoy their group.â
She was sure she would. Admittedly, Neria hated that she missed the adventure. But the Cure seemed more important when she heard the Inquisition was already looking into the tear in the sky. Teagan guided her to a corner of the courtyard away from the doors. A dalish elf was propped on one of the benches. On either side of her was a large Qunari, another man with tan skin and a Tevinter accent. She was surrounded by at least six others. Warden Rainier, a dwarf that looked as if his nose has been broken speaking to another woman who she was nearly certain was the Champion, a Seeker speaking to Cullen, another elven woman with no vallaslin to mark her as Dalish pulling at the collar of her formal attire, a woman with an antivan accent, and a very familiar Enchanter.
Vivienne saw her before the others, her eyes lighting up immediately. Neria was well aware that Viv was a master of the Game, but the surge of pride she felt when her expression turned genuine could not be denied.
âNeria, darling! I was afraid I had missed you.â Vivienne pulled her into an embrace not unlike Teagan, leaving him to scramble to take Neriaâs plate and glass as Vivienne kissed each of her cheeks. âIt is so good to see you.â
âIt is good to see you too, First Enchanter. Or is it just Lady now?â
âWhatever you prefer, dear.â She turned to the others. âInquisitor, some meet the Hero of Fereldan.â
The title from Vivienne alone turned many heads, and a small hush fell over the courtyard. After a moment the chatter began again, cautious, as if Neria would simply disappear if they got too loud. Part of her wished Vivienne wouldnât boast so, but she also couldnât deny the happiness that came from having a First Enchanter praise her. Circles or no, there was respect there.
Teagan cleared his throat, pressing Neriaâs refreshments back into her hands. âI believe I should go find Isolde. I will see you tonight, Neria.â
âThank you, Teagan.â Neria said with a somehow sincere smile. When she turned back to the group from the Inquisition, she was suddenly surrounded.
The dalish elf, the Inquisitor, she realized, approached first. âItâs an honor to meet you, Warden Commander Surana. Truly.â
âThe honor is all mine, Inquisitor Lavellan.â Neria replied. âI hope that you are not disappointed that I could not lend more aid during your time of need. I apologize for that. But I should thank you for taking care of Morrigan and Leliana so well.â
âThey took care of me. Come, sit with us, please.â
It was less sitting and more congregating in a small area. Neria found herself fitting in easily with the Inquisition. They were all easy to speak with, and they had a good sense of humor. The only thing to remind her of where she was were the other attendees interrupting every now and then, vying for an audience with the hero of Fereldan, Inquisitor, and Champion of Kirkwall, Neria came to realize. Her refreshments were soon forgotten as she fell into idle conversation, swapping stories and tales of adventure and travel alike.
âSo, is it always a term of endearment?â She asked The Iron Bull when she heard him refer to the Tevinter mage, Dorian, with a term she recognized. âSten, or rather, the Arishok now, used it.â
âKadan? No not always. Depends on the person, you see.â
âThatâs a relief.â Neria sighed, âIâd hate to have spurned his affections if it were meant to be romantic.â
Bull gave a hardy laugh ad a slap on the back. âWouldnât that be a story, eh? Varric, what do you think?â
âThe Arishok, still a Sten, falling in love with a Bas Saarebas in a distant land, only to be spurned by her when she falls for the King?â The dwarf gave a pointed look to the Seeker, Cassandra, who was looking on with a sudden twinkle of interest in her eyes. âNah. Sounds way too mushy for me. Only a truly hopeless romantic would want to read any of that.â
Hawke laughed beside Cassandra as the seeker glared daggers at him, and even Neria could do little to hide her amusement. âFalling for the king might be an exaggeration.â
âThatâs what makes the story so good, Hero.â
âPerhaps she and the Arishok could reconcile.â Josephine, the Antivan ambassador, suggested. âMake it a truly happy ending.â
âNo that wonât work either. I was banned from Seheron by the last Arishok.â Neria said. âAnd I have been sword to secrecy as to why.â
Another laugh from Bull, and the conversation switched to Hawke and the previous Arishok. Neria felt a tap on her shoulder, turning to see Warden Rainier. âCommander, could I speak with you a moment?â
âOf course.â Neria said.
They took a few steps away, back towards the garden wall. Thom Rainier was a Warden recruit with a troubled past, but there was no Warden without one. He looked rather nervous as he led her away. âI uhâŚI must apologize. I know we arranged for me to be your first dance partner, but I must request to be, ermâŚrelieved of that duty.â
Neria blinked, raising a brow at him. Rather guiltily, he looked behind her. Neria followed his gaze to the Inquisition, landing on Josephine.
âAh.â She gave him a smile. âThere is no need to apologize. I understand completely.â She waved her hand dismissively. âSo at-ease orâŚwhatever. Youâre relieved.â
The tension in his shoulders left, and he gave her a solute âThank you, Commander.â
With another far too enthusiastic bow he returned to the group. Neria sighed, biting her lip. This was a dilemma, but she didnât want to focus on that now. Not with too-familiar footsteps approaching.
âWhat was that about?â Cullen asked, two glasses in his hand. He offered her one. She took it gratefully. âA dance?â
âItâs an old Fereldan tradition, apparently only common during these fancy celebrations.â She explained, sipping the wine. âYour first dance is to be with the person who escorted you to the party. Symbolic of a partnership and putting them first or something. The rest of the dances can be with anyone. Likely a way for nobility to mingle with each other in more intimate ways while remaining proper.â
Cullen tilted his head. âSo you wonât have a first dance partner? Is thatâŚbad?â
âNormally, no. but Iâm the Hero of Fereldan. Somehow itâsâŚsignificant. Or so Iâve been told. Usually, I get a Warden to dance with. It doesnât HAVE to be romantic, and if I dance with a Warden no one can claim Iâve chosen someone. Rumors donât spread.â She frowned, massaging the bridge of her nose. Anora was going to kill her.
She downed her wine too quickly. Sheâd think of something, she always did. She turned to thank Cullen for the drink, but then an elven servant was approaching.
âWarden Commander. Her Grace wishes to see you.â
Neria frowned, suddenly worried. âAnora?â
âNo miss. Divine Victoria.â
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yo for the record if you put something in my inbox and i never respond itâs not that i didnât like it or read it itâs that i very very often see messages and go âoh i should respond to thatâ and then i fucking forget until itâs like. been enough time to be weird
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