#ameridan:ic

[skyheld]

@tragicvictories asked: "You're surprisingly fragile for someone who fights so fiercely." // for ameridan from ziphrane After-Action Patch-Up starters | accepting!

He sighs, letting one shoulder drop while holding the other perfectly still to allow a healing spell to take hold. For a while he's been stoic, the very image of an age-old warrior unfazed by any injury, . Now that illusion breaks; he makes a face, and becomes real.

"I used to be stronger. I would have been able to parry that blow - before." Before Hakkon, that is, before the time spell. At least he thinks so. It was a powerful blow, admittedly, and he's never been able to rely much on physical strength. "I've yet to learn my limits, I suppose."

There's some bitterness in those words, some resignation - and a grudging acceptance that he must work with these new limits, because he cannot work against them. He's still stronger than he looks, more dangerous in a melee than people tend to assume, but he remains ill-equipped to take heavy damage.

"But I like how you said that." He twists to look at her out of the corner of his eye. "I have been told something similar, but the other way around: for a mage, I fight surprisingly well in close combat."

A smile flits past, thoughtful. "I like your version better. You saw the strength before the fragility."

#ameridan:verse:inquisition #ameridan:ic #tragicvictories #thank you for sending this! #i understand ziphrane is a healer but i left it a little open if it's her doing the healing magic or someone else just in case

[skyheld]

@daughterofhighever-blog asked: "I need a headcount. Sound off - who's not dead?" RECOVERING AFTER THE BIG BATTLE PROMPTS | accepting!

He'd say 'not me - not this time either' except now is probably not the right moment.

The battle was expected. They've been tracking these darkspawn for some time now and finally had them cornered, back in the tunnel from which they first emerged. Just a small group, scrappy - some stray genlocks and a wayward shriek who'd stumbled on some long-lost Deep Roads exit and wandered into daylight. To an unprotected village, or a traveler on the road, a single darkspawn means death. To a group of Wardens led by their Commander they were nothing.

For such a small thing there was no need for Ameridan to come with them. He has no expertise to lend the Grey Wardens when it comes to fighting darkspawn, and there were enough of them already. But to see the Wardens of this age in action is a privilege; to fight beside them an honour. He wanted to come, and so he did.

The cave-in was... less expected. When Ameridan's magic and the Warden-Commander's spirit abilities were unleashed at the same time, the tunnel, fragile with age, collapsed. Though it took care of the darkspawn, it also nearly ended their hunters. Before the dust has settled and their eyes adjusted to the dark, there is no telling who still stands.

A small flame flickers to life in Ameridan's palm and hovers, throwing light on the rubble of rock and tile, and the broken bodies beneath. Gnarled, grey skin, armoured in bent and twisted iron. Fangs too long for their jaws, hands that could tear a heart from its rib cage. Darkspawn, all of them.

"All are accounted for, Warden-Commander", he says as the last of the Wardens declare themselves present and alive. "But we have some injured, and I cannot tell if we will get out of here." Which is troubling, and yet there's a smile creasing the corners of his eyes, not quite reaching his mouth. "Had I known you possessed such power, I would have checked my own."

#ask meme: answered #ameridan:verse:inquisition #ameridan:ic #daughterofhighever-blog #thank you for sending this! #i have a vague idea that it's when he's visiting soldier's peak for the inquisition and they heard about some darkspawn in the area #and he just wanted to come with #the rest is just literally that atlantis scene lol

[skyheld]

@magicbound​ liked for a starter  !

“ Nature magic is not as complicated as it seems.   There is a...  a life-force,  of sorts,  an energy that flows through all living plants.   Finding it is the tricky part,  but you will know it when you feel it.   Once you do,  you can manipulate it. “   He demonstrates,  holding his palm out and letting the small fern growing beside him coil around it,  leaves wrapping around his fingers as though alive with purpose.   “ My teacher called it vela’lin.   Green-blood,  or plant-blood if you will  ----  not literally,  of course. “

#magicbound #ameridan:ic #ameridan:verse:inquisition #as far as i know biowhere has forgotten abt nature magic so its mine now #just two mages teaching each other new things / sharing their expertise

[skyheld]

@mercysought​ asked:  “ names are there to be forgotten. “ from the priestess to ameridan   |  hades by supergiant games part i. sentence starters.  |  ACCEPTING!

He lets a finger run along the faded inscription on the sarcophagus,  as though to read  ---  or sense  ---  by touch what can no longer be read by sight.   Who lies here?  Did I know you,  or were you born centuries after I was gone?   Gold gleams in the lines his finger have left in the dust,  in the remnants of runes worn away by time,  but still he does not know what it says.   Din’an Hanin sits hushedly on its secrets,  veiled in years and cobwebs.   If I knew your name I could say a prayer,  I could make sure the Dalish remember you.

He turns to her.   His gaze is drawn to the touches of gold on her hands,  her face;  the marks that tell the world who she is,  like the faded runes on the sarcophagus.   One day they will wear away,  and then who will she be,  she who has no name but Priestess,  she who is nothing but the one she serves?   He frowns at her,  holding her gaze.

“ What do you mean?   Names are meant to be forgotten?   They have no purpose after we’re dead and no longer need them for ourselves? “   He does not know what cruelty she has endured in life to make her speak so cruelly herself.   Perhaps he should sympathize,  but it makes him angry,  because it seems intended to hurt him.   Yes,  him,  specifically  ---  he who was forgotten by near everyone,  and by those he helped raise to glory most of all.   But Bran Kenric remembered him,  the Ghilain clan remembered him,  and the Emerald Knights remembered him.   If not for that,  he would not be here.   The new Inquisition remembered him,  and just in time to save the world from the danger he tried to protect it from.   

“ I do not know how you can stand here,  in a hall built to remember the dead,  and say it should all be forgotten.   What would be its purpose,  if it were the way you say?   Why would we build tombs for our dead,  why would we write history down into books and record it in songs,  if not for the comfort of knowing someone will remember us?   If not because it matters?   You are wrong “,  he tells her,   “ though I’m glad you are. “

#mercysought #meme:answered #ameridan:ic #catch me crying about them

[skyheld]

 @mercysought asked  ❛ I do not worry about what will happen. Only what needs to be done. ❜ from himsulem to ameridan  |  SEND ME MEMES Y’ALL

How Himsulem found him here,  Ameridan does not know.   The courtyard,  bathed in moonlight,  is tucked away in a corner of Halamshiral which has not existed for he does not know how many years.   In some way,  his subconscious knows that,  for in the dream it is more worn than he remembers it.   The willow trees are bare;  weeds grow in the cracks between the paving stones,  and the fountain in the middle is dry,  its basin filled with yellowed leaves.   It is autumn and twilight;  it often is,  in his dreams.   Perhaps it reflects the way he sees the world,  or himself  ---  fading in colour,  and getting ever darker.

He sits on the edge of the fountain,  his back to the flowery statue which would once have spouted water.   Behind him the palace of the Emerald Knights rises;  he does not need to turn his head to know it’s there,  its slender sandstone towers wrapped in vines.   On this courtyard he had some of his first lessons as an initiate to the order,  doing trust exercises and learning proper etiquette.   Here,  in the pleasant shade of the willows in summer garb,  he was first told the Fade-Hunters had accepted him into their ranks,  in private conversation with a mentor he both respected and feared.   Sometimes he and Telana would retreat to the stillness of this place,  letting the fountain drown their conversations while their wolves played nearby.  

But the last memory,  the most vivid  ---  tears of frustration in her arms,  after another meeting wherein his pleas for the Knights to ally with Drakon against the Blight fell on deaf ears.   Her wolf kept its distance,  never trusting him after the rite of tranquility,  as though it could sense the scar which Himsulem sees.   His Da’harel  ---  dead,  by his own hand,  years ago.

It was a bitter moment,  even back then,  but twice so now with what he knows and does not knows.   If I’d convinced them,  would anything be different?   Would Orlais not have turned against us a century later,  or would the Exalted March still have happened all the same?  

Do I want to know?

“ How do you do that? “  he asks the spirit,  that flickering shape so indistinct and yet now so familiar.   “ How you know what to do if you do not know what will happen?   How can you be sure what’s the right course of action if you do not know where it will lead?   Myself,  I...   I reassess everything,  I weigh every possible outcome,  every risk.   I dwell on things there is no use dwelling on.   Things I cannot change,  things no one has any means of knowing... “   He grasps the edge of the fountain,  letting the cold stone anchor him in the dream.   His thoughts,  his mood change the Fade.   If they grow too dark they will attract other creatures,  more dangerous creatures,  lured by his Rage or his Despair.   He will not risk that for himself or Himsulem.

“ I envy you “,  he says,  as bitter as the wind his subconscious has summoned,  scattering the leaves around the courtyard.   “ Because for all that worrying I still made so many mistakes.   I still do not know if I ever did anything good.   So what was the point of it,  I wonder?   If overthinking leads nowhere,  I would rather not think at all. “ 

#mercysought #ameridan:ic #ameridan:verse:inquisition #meme:answered #:') #edit bc i forgot to mention you vhfjskg i knew there was something

[skyheld]

@arsuledin​ liked for a starter

“ So, have they figured it out yet? “   A brilliant sunset over the Hinterlands prompts the question;  a bright red disc,  perfectly round,  sinking between pink and purple clouds, which brings to mind the big scholarly argument of the early Divine Age.   Solas is a scholar,  of a sort,  so in Ameridan’s mind he ought to know.   “ Does the sun revolve around the earth,  or the earth around the sun? “

#arsuledin #ameridan:ic #ameridan:verse:inquisition #this is so dumb btu gjhkdhgjk

[skyheld]

@illiumflower​ asked:  You’re still alive? That’s good. ( morven @ ameridan! )

As far as introductions go,  it’s not the worst.   The life Ameridan has led,  the kind of people he has been introduced too  ---  war-lords and petty kings vying for power,  mage-chieftains with no desire to bow to the Inquisition,  cultists who hated both mages and elves  ---  worst is a brandished battle-axe or a goblet of poisoned wine.   Any introduction wherein him being alive is considered a good thing is several steps above that.

That...  does not make this a good one,  either.   Though to be fair Ameridan still knows little about the customs of this time.   Perhaps this is accepted now,  or perhaps Skyhold,  being so close to the Alamarri lands,  has adopted some of the uncouthness for which they are so known.   Or were known.  

Not knowing how to react,  he settles for something diplomatic with a small bow of his head.   “ ---surprisingly,  yes,  I am.   And...  you are? “

#illiumflower #ameridan:ic #ameridan:verse:inquisition #vfjkdhfjjkf i love this

[skyheld]

@mercysought​ asked:   ❝I’m trying to make amends.❞ from himsulem to ameridan  |  The Old Guard  |  accepting

“ I...  think perhaps we both should. “

It’s long after Ameridan stopped expecting to see Himsulem again when he finally does.

Their conversation  ---  it must be weeks or months ago now,  though admittedly he’s not very good at keeping track of the passage of this time  ---  ended with Ameridan sending the spirit away,  demanding he go despite having no power to make him do so.   But he did not really believe it would last for long.   At the time,  he thought Himsulem was a demon,  or at the very least  predatory kind of spirit.   And there should be no reason for such a creature to listen to his wishes.

But Himsulem didn’t return.   Instead,  it was Ameridan who returned to their meeting in his mind;  remembering and musing over the details,  the things that had confused and bewildered him.   Without the spirit’s immediaye presence,  he could do so more open-mindedly,  without the fear of being tricked.

" I may have been overly mistrustful of you the last time we spoke “,  he tells the spirit that is finally before him again,  a vaguely elvhen shape in a misty,  peaceful forest.   The forest reminds him of the Dales,  and Ameridan assumes it was his mind which created it.   He wonders if it’s him thinking about Himsulem that invited him here,  or if he came on his own behalf.   “ You told me some things I could not understand,  but...  it wasn’t with ill intent,  I see that.   I do not feel threatened by you,  Himsulem. “

#mercysought #meme:answered #ameridan:ic #ameridan:verse:inquisition #i linked the thread we had between them because it's so ancient and i had to go back and read it again #it's so good though honestly i want these two to talk more

[skyheld]

@champions-folly ( continued from x ):

“Not of the sort with a blade, at least,” Cassandra said. There was plenty of warfare that went on in these rooms without a drop of blood spilled–at least, not until they were outside. Even now, Leliana still managed to shock Cassandra with stories of what went on beneath the veneer of royal parties; the sheer depravity and opportunism was appalling. This was why Leliana was better suited to being the Left Hand, to being the spymaster–Cassandra preferred things up-front and clean-cut. A sword fight didn’t leave room for second-guessing or planting insinuations or reading the mood: either you won and you lived, or you lost and it didn’t matter anymore.

With the amount of warfare Ameridan had seen in his lifetime (and then, assuming one counted what was happening now as a continuation of that lifetime), she didn’t blame him for wanting to avoid more.

“The rest…well, you know how they are,” she said, casting a quick glance around with a faint curl of her lip. She couldn’t say this was why she had left Nevarra–her reasons for that were far more personal–but it certainly wasn’t a life she could see herself in. “If the night passes without a single orchestrated murder, I’m sure someone will call it dull.”

“ I find the lack of blades preferable,  to be honest. “   Ameridan smiled over the edge of his wine goblet,  cooling the drink with a touch of magic before he took a sip.   He was drinking slowly;  it only took the smallest amount to get to his head these days,  and he had no intention to for that to happen tonight.   “ Wars are waged in many places,  true,  and ones fought on ballroom floors are dull and dishonest...  but at least good people aren’t slaughtered on a battlefield.   Better to let the nobles bicker than lead armies against each other,  is it not? “

Maybe it was easy for him to say,  since he no longer had to partake in the bickering.   It could be deadly enough,  he knew.   But he had seen battlefields too,  the worst of them  ---  that was his perspective.

Wasn’t that the point of the Game?   Encourage nobles to trade barbs instead of blows,  to sharpen tongues instead of blades.   Not that it didn’t sometimes lead to actual battles,  but...

Her comment almost made him choke on the sip of wine.   “ I hope that was en exaggeration.   If there was a murder at every ball,  surely you would run out of nobles. “

#champions-folly #ameridan:ic #ameridan:verse:inquisition #im replying to this but don't feel pressured to keep it going if you don't want to!

[skyheld]

@winterfollows​ said:  "I would dance with you, if you if you will ask me." + Ameridan

ballroom dialogue prompts  |  accepting!

“ Only if I ask you?   What if I were waiting for you to ask me? “

He’s teasing  ---  they both know Ameridan will ask,  that he couldn’t possibly decline such an obvious invite;  not with Haleir looking at him with those eyes,  outshining everyone else in the room.   It’s such a Haleir thing to say,  though,  he’d laugh if he had any breath to do so.   Which he doesn’t.   With a curl of perfectly painted lips,  a flick of bejewelled hair,  Haleir steals that too.

He supposes he’ll never find out if Haleir would ask,  because he doesn’t have the self-restraint to wait.

“ Will you dance with me,  Haleir? “

#winterfollows #ameridan:ic #ameridan:verse:inquisition #dhzsjfhjdh haleir is such a flirt and ameridan just... melts #to be fair he flirts back too but i think we all know #who's more of a tease #and who's a helpless puddle #of love #hint it's ameridan who is the puddle

[skyheld]

@ofrevas​ said:   ‘ we will never run out of trees. ’  for ameridan

the mountain goats starters  |  accepting!

Not as long as we bury our dead under them,  no.

The Vallasdahlen was mighty in his time too,  but it holds a different weight to it now.   Then,  it was not a forest;  it was a grove,  crossed through with meandering,  well-tended paths and surrounded by fields and orchards.   The trees,  planted in honour of the most beloved of the People,  were none of them older than two centuries;  some were but saplings.   They grew tended by gardeners who kept away the weeds and much of the undergrowth.   There was a peaceful dignity there,  one that seemed to remind of what they had gained as much as what they had lost.

Seeing it again,  eight centuries later,  Ameridan would not have known it was the same place if he had not been told so.   But unlike the rest of the Dales,  the Vallasdahlen doesn’t feel as though it has fallen to ruin.   It isn’t crumbling,  like their palaces and fortresses.   It isn’t gone,  like their villages and markets.   Instead it has outgrown its bounds,  become larger and more impressive than it ever was before.   It’s impossible to tell now which trees were deliberatedly planted and which grew on their own  ---  he suspects there are far more of the latter and has been for a long time.  

And yet,  that only seems right.   Each tree no longer represents a single person;  there have been far too many dead heroes for that.   But the Vallasdahlen,  this vast,  ever-growing forest  ---  it,  as a whole,  represents the People as a whole.  

For they were always more than their heroes.   That is not to say that Mathalin or Tanaleth or Duarra or Mahanon do not deserve the honour they were given.   They do.   But for each of them there are hundreds,  maybe thousands of elves who may not have been so well-known,  so accomplished or so powerful and who yet made the Dales what it were  ---  made elves what they are  ---  just as much as them.

And so,  the pruned and peaceful grove,  that place of contemplation and calm,  has become ancient and vast and untameable.   How deep do its roots go;  how far do they spread?   How high do the tallest trees reach?   Like the people,  it has changed.   No longer does it whisper sweetly with the wind.   The boughs creak and moan,  the foliage hides a rustling choris;  its voice is deep and powerful.   No longer is it easily traversed.   The paths belong to giants and beasts; around them are thorny thickets,  swift rivers,  steep cliffs.   The weight is holds now,  that he feels around him  --- its the weight of centuries of wisdom,  oppression and resistance,  its the fall of a nation and the continued fight of a people,  its age and the bittersweet knowledge that comes with it.   And it is,  he thinks,  the People.

They are more than stone and marble.   They are more than their palaces,  their tombs and even their villages.   They live and breathe,  like trees.   They grow and change.   They remember,  like the earth.

And,  like trees,  the world will never run out of elves.

“ It’s true “,  he says finally,  breaking the long stretch of silence.   If silence one can call it,  because there are all the sounds one would expect of a forest this size and age.   Unlike the two of them,  the birds and insects and little critters in the undergrowth,  the wind and streams,  are not quiet at all.   “ But nevertheless,  they’re worth defending.   Especially ones as old and memorable as these.   Though it seems,  until now,  the giants have done a good job of that. “   He throws Alanari a glance,  slender fingers adjusting their grip around his staff.   They are in dangerous territory.   “ I did not think I would be grateful we never managed to hunt them to extinction. “

#ofrevas #ameridan:ic #ameridan:verse:inquisition #meme:answered #drabble

[skyheld]

@ofrevas​ asked:  ‘ what’s the alternative? ’ for Ameridan!      

“ The kitchens.   Let us go;  I will explain once it’s safe. “

They retreat outside,  gathering their breaths among the twice-slain corpses strewn around the fortress gates.   At least none of them is badly harmed.   Their clothes are singed,  their hair smells burned,  but that is all.   Ameridan wonders what would have happened if he had not been there.   He only had a second to remember the sound  ---  that deep,  static thrum he cannot recall hearing anywhere else  ---  before the beam of destructive magic was upon them,  burning wherever it touched,  scorching even the air.   He got them all to move out of the way in time,  but it was a close thing.

Of all the remnants of his time he expected the humans to have kept when they claimed this fortress as theirs,  it wasn’t that.

“ That... thing.   The defensive beam,  the magical light. “   He can’t think of a suitable technical term in common,  and doesn’t try;  Sera or Varric might not understand it,  and they all have to understand.   “ I have seen it before,  and I know how to stop it  ---  I think  ---  but it can only be done from inside the fortress.   And we’re not getting past it.   It was made to kill demons and giants;  it will blow us to pieces. “   As he speaks,  he has already started walking along the outer wall,  wanting to get away from the gates.   Nothing may come out through it while the beam turns everything in the vicinity to ash,  but those corpses could rise a third time.   The press of demons is so bad in the Dirthavaren,  Ameridan wouldn’t count it out.

He looks over his shoulder,  makes sure everyone is following.

“ There used to be a kitchen entrance.   From what I can see the orlesians haven’t changed too much,  not the layout anyway.   If it’s still there,  it will let us get closer to where the beam can be turned off without crossing the courtyard. “

#ofrevas #ameridan:ic #meme:answered #don't ask me why i have extensive headcanons abt that one castle in the plains where celene' forces are #but i do #ok no they're not extensive #it just happened to be an emerald knight stronghold #with a very New and Experimental defense system

[skyheld]

@winterfollows​ said:  "'Angry about that kiss?' Only if you call that a kiss." + Ameridan or Gatt because I'm weak shh

“ So you were offended,  but by the execution,  not my attempt. “   His smile is wry,  easy,  and his banter light,  but at his throat Ameridan’s heart beats like a trapped bird,  his chest is a cage of butterflies,  a flurry of nervous wings.   He’s teasing,  they’re teasing,  it’s playful and there’s nothing at stake and yet,  and yet,  those wings---  the electricity that sparks under his skin whenever Haleir leans close,  as real as magic---  the yearning to press his lips against the back of Haleir’s hand,  his knuckles,  this time in such a way Haleir can’t complain it cannot be called a kiss...

He relishes that feeling,  but it’s unbearable.   So much nervosity and tenderness and nowhere to put it.   His gaze drops from those bright blue eyes,  falls on Haleir’s mouth,  and Ameridan thinks that,  more so than his hands,  he’d like to plant his lips just there.

“ Would you be less offended if I tried again,  and did better?”

#meme:answered #ameridan:ic #ameridan:verse:inquisition #mmmm i don't think ameridan would kiss haleir w/out being entirely sure he was fine with it #but a peck on the hand? that he would do #or even the cheek maybe but i went with hand to be Safe #anyway i??? am screaming he's just #so nervous and loving and nervous and soft #haleir what do you do to him #winterfollows

[skyheld]

@dalishflame​ said: ‘ you need a rest. ’ - Ameridan

“ --- a rest? “   Ameridan laughs breathlessly,  steadying himself with a blood-slicked hand against the wall of the tunnel,  drinking in the sudden stillness.   The battle is over.   Decidedly so.   There are pieces of hurlock,  ogre and shriek scattered all over the stone floor,  black blood covering the old mining equipment,  gore drawn crudely over the walls.   There are none standing,  or even particularly intact.

Despite his exhaustion  ---  the pulse thundering in his ears,  his hand sliding weakly down the wall,  threatening to throw him off balance  ---  Ameridan is satisfied.   He over-exerted himself with that last spell,  but it was a controlled over-exertion.   He knew the spell would drain him;  it had to,  or it wouldn’t have been powerful enough to end the battle,  which was dragging on for too long.   So he gave it his all.   And it was more than enough.   He’s paying the price now,  but it gladdens him to know he still has that power in him.

“ I need a dozen rests,  but I suppose one will have to suffice. “   He drags himself up,  smiling still.   “ But not right here.   Let us find somewhere less covered in darkspawn blood. “

#ameridan:ic #meme:answered #dalishflame #ameridan: alas i am very weak and cant fight as well as before #also ameridan: *blows every enemy to pieces mid-battle because fuck this im out*

[skyheld]

b.uzzfeed unsolved  |  accepting  |  @winterfollows

“ Yes. “   It must be evident in the way he keeps tugging at his sleeves,  the hem of his tunic,  as if his clothes are to blame for discomfort.   Well,  they are  ---  even when tailored according to his preferences,  with more room to move and less to see  ---  but they are not the only thing.   If they were,  he could manage.  

“ I can barely remember people’s countries,  let alone their names.   And the formalities?   Etiquette? “   It was not easier back then  ---  at least,  not in the ciriane courts  ---  but he’d had time to learn.   He sighs,  exasperated,  because he would not have to be nervous if people didn’t insist on such complicated customs.   “ If I only risked embarassing myself I would not care,  but the Inquisition needs me to be ready,  and I...  don’t feel ready. “

#meme:answered #winterfollows #ameridan:ic #ameridan:verse:inquisition #im always down for ameridan being too old for formal events

[skyheld]

@ghoulgliitters​ liked for a starter  (  for blackwall  )  |  accepting!

“ Do you know what the worst thing about fighting darkspawn is? “

Ameridan’s voice breaks gently into the silence,  soft as the echoes the wind brings into the cave,  the murmur of the fire illuminating their sleeping companions.   The stench of those Blighted creatures is still in the air,  even though they’re long dead and the entrance they came through sealed.   It makes it hard to forget them,  makes him reach for something to lighten the unavoidable presence of them in his mind.

For,  of course,  the worst thing about darkspawn is what they are,  and what they make of others,  and how they came to be,  and it isn’t something to make light of at all.   But in moments like these...

“ It is that one has to be so careful to not contract the taint,  there is no room for taking risks.   Where is the fun if you cannot be a little daring?   A little reckless? “

#ghoulgliitters #ameridan:ic #ameridan:verse:inquisition #this would be before the blackwall Reveal other than that go wild