#and yeah fuck elthina

[kaltacore]

sometimes I wonder what bioware actually wanted to achieve when they wrote the whole anders arc and then decided how they should treat it in DA:I. like they created a guy who was helping people in need for years risking his freedom and sometimes even life and then they said you know what this guy is BAD and WRONG. actually much worse than organization that ultimately fails at its main goal which is maintaining peace and balance. oh that poor chantry lady who didn't even try to keep her favourite templar and her mass murder tendencies in check

#i really want to know what was going on in their minds #like it's stated in the game that templars in kirkwall circle were constantly committing literal hate crimes and no one batted an eye #but when some guy blows up fancy building to prevent a legalized mass murder well THAT'S too much #so many questions here my dudes #honestly if i were anders this whole city would be lying in ruins back in act 2 #the way he's portrayed as some crazy ass apostate who just wante to kill people for fun in dai? #yall gotta be kidding me #that's the guy who literally thought he deserved to die by his friend/lover's hand for his deeds you're talking about #it's so weird. making your character deep and compassionate and regretful just to pretend that he was just some crazy terrorist #and yeah fuck elthina #fuck the chantry #anders was right #dragon age

[verycharismaticdragon]

Can I ask your top 10 fav fics ever (from any fandom, if you don't mind)?

Also, just curious, is there a story behind your name "verycharismaticdragon "?

I'm not the best at remembering things past the hyperfix, so half of this will be SV, but I'll start at prev fandoms for variety.

Artificial Nocturne (Motorcity) - I've read this ages ago but I remember it rearranging my brain chemistry. And making me realize I had a scar kink.

An Abomination, Grand Cleric Elthina's Murderer and the Herald of Andraste walk into a Bar (Dragon Age) - it's probably abandoned but it's so good. Anders and Varric in this are so *incoherent gesturing*

intra-personal negotiation (Venom) - I don't understand why I didn't bookmark a single Venom fic even though I distinctly remember like 5 straight bangers, but thankfully I'm following this author at least ✊

deathbed (Qi Ye) - that time I was whining there were no first life JBY/ZZS fics and then! Anyway it's understandably melancholy it's also very pretty and exactly right as it should be.

the good rain knows when to fall (TYK) - you should be reading Bichen's entire discography fic collection I just remembered this one first. This one is lighthearted old foxes clowning! The author's angst and cannibalism are also top-notch 👌

Ok now to SVSSS.

Joyed to be Forlorn - THE binghe fic for me. inspired me to start digging into Luo Binghe's character in a way that resulted in Transmigrator Time Traveler, hopefully thats recommendation enough

continued - possibly THE best fic in scum villain fandom. the format alone... oh just read it, you'll see what I mean.

A Child Once - again, i could rec Tossawary's entire discography, but this one is my personal favorite. (if your fav character is SQH though, the one you want is pride is not the word I'm looking for. aka THE sqh fic.)

sweet tongues, sharp teeth - unfinished but raw enough to lodge itself in my brain despite that.

Tale Within A Tale - cute as fuck. made me kick my legs and giggle many times. ...and because once I started pulling up SV fics it was difficult to stop...

side effects (rated E) - part 2 in particular didnt have to go so hard for a fic where the premise is 'bingqiu with tentacles'

don't underestimate me (rated E) - "all for the sake of preserving biodiversity!" god shen yuan SO would be in this situation.

The Best Luo Binghe (rated E) - binggeyuan. shen yuan SO would be in this situation, take 2.

put me in, coach (rated M) - bingqiushang. so fucking funny okay i love it so much

from your knees (rated E) - bingjiu. they're so rancid in this one its perfect 🖤

...Damn, this really puts the difference between my non-hyperfix and hyperfix memory into perspective, huh 😅 i actually had to trim the sv list a bit 😅😅😅

Anyway, yeah, my username actually just references an rp session we had with friends quite a few years back. Where at a certain point my character was referenced as "a VERY charismatic dragon" after managing to turn the antagonist by impressing them (thanks to some VERY lucky dice rolls). And I was dissatisfied with my old username at the time, and thought it sounded funny and snappy enough, so - stars aligned and all that. I'm happy with it still! Probably because dragons are always cool ✌️

#svsss #motorcity #dragon age #venom #qi ye #tian ya ke #<- for org purposes on my blog #😘 thanks for the ask!

[xxlonelybones]

People are always saying that the mage love interest in Dragon Age is going to betray you, but... I don't think Morrigan did anything wrong. She's upfront that she is going to leave as soon as the battle is over. She just saves your life with a sex ritual so she can have her weird little Old God baby... and then if she was your LI, you can follow her through the eluvian in the Witch Hunt DLC.

Literally, the only way she "betrays" you is if you don't do the sex ritual. And even then, she just leaves. Which, tbh, feels more like her being immature about not getting her Old God baby and possibly being upset over the fact that she'll lose a friend/lover.

Honestly, the game just says she "betrayed" you. At worst, she uses your boyfriend as a sperm donor if you romanced Alistair?? And even then, they don't want to fuck. I've had so many people be like, "Ugh, I hate that she fucks Alistair." She saved you both with her magic pussy. Grow up.

Also, Anders did nothing wrong. (I mean... yeah he did, but...) I feel more betrayed by Sebastian when he's like, "Why won't you murder Anders? I'm going to fart on out of here and retake my city-state so I can forcefully invade Kirkwall later and try to kill him." Like, asshole, I told Elthina to leave?? Leliana told her to leave? She played the martyr game and won the martyr prize.

I replayed DA2 last summer and fuck the chantry, fuck Elthina, fuck Sebastian. They're annoying as hell and doing nothing is upholding the oppressive system that forces mages to turn to dangerous means for their freedom.

Meanwhile, they're basically recruiting young, impressionable people and getting them addicted to fucking lyrium to uphold the system. Like, maybe don't do a terrorism, Anders, but also... I don't feel that bad about the Kirkwall chantry.

As for Solas... I mean... Yeah. He did technically betray us. Egg boy did give his orb away which resulted in a giant hole in the sky that demons fell out of... And he does want to totally rip down the veil and kind of destroy reality as we know it.

But, like, I feel like we can calm him down and talk things over. Like, my man. We can't have a conversation?? I thought we were friends?

#dragon age #morrigan #anders #solas #dragon age ramble #these thoughts are stupid and they are mine #i needed to rant #mainly about morrigan

[crossdressingdeath]

One thing I find amusing about Hawke's cameo in Inquisition is that, they could literally be in a relationship with Anders and know exactly where he is, and Cassandra does not question it? No one questions it? Hawke is literally hiding an abomination somewhere out there, one who killed the Grand Cleric, and Cassandra doesn't even react? She's even worried if Anders gets to receive a letter if Hawke doesn't make it? And hopes they reunite if they do? It's so weird. XD

Everything about how Anders is treated in DAI is bizarre due to Bioware realizing that some people were like "Hey, maybe blowing up the symbol of oppression in the city that has an actual tangible negative impact on how Kirkwall is due to Tevinter bullshit with the woman who cheerily benefited from the suffering in the city and did approximately fuck all to fix it inside, thereby forcing the mass slaughter of the population of the Gallows into the open instead of letting the Templars just kill them all in their cells and almost certainly saving some lives, was not a purely evil act" and frantically trying to retcon everything he did. I will never be over the claim that blowing up one building somehow killed over a hundred people, caused severe structural damage, and changed the tidal patterns of a port city. That just does not physics. It was one building.

But yeah, Hawke going "Uh yeah Anders is... evil and crazy and bad, please don't ask me where he is" is genuinely kind of hilarious if you assume that Hawke's lying their ass off. They're literally just like "Oh yes I hate the love of my life so much" and no one questions it. And yeah, no one caring that Hawke knows exactly where the apostate who blew up Elthina is is so funny. Of course it could also be a display of cunning on Hawke's part: if they say that obviously they think Anders is bad and wrong, no one in this Chantry organization will question it because the Chantry higher-ups don't comprehend that maybe some people think the Chantry is bad! Although Cassandra being super invested in Hawke and Anders's relationship is actually fantastic, it makes fuck all sense. Cassandra why are you so obsessed with Hawke's relationship with their boyfriend who blew up the Grand Cleric.

#dragon age inquisition #asks #anon

[barbex]

Hah! And another one for @18daysoffenders, this is prompt 16.

16. Ten Years From Now

Orana opens the door for him, ushering him inside and excuses herself quickly, because she's got something on the stove. Fenris watches her hurry into the kitchen, surprisinlgy touched by how far the former tevinter slave has come. She is still shy and Fenris knows that she sometimes still calls Hawke Mistress, but she's become much more confident. She's learning to be free, just like him. 

He's not pointing out that she was meant to announce him to Hawke, and sets out to find her on his own. His feet carry him silently through the hall, Muffin, Hawke's mabari, only raising his head, acknowledging him as a friend. Voices spill out from the library on the other side, and he slows his steps when he hears someone answer Hawke.

It's Anders, speaking with Hawke. Fenris stops in front of the slightly ajar door, listening. He knows he shouldn't, but his whole body is frozen. 

"What is it?" Anders says. A chair creaks, and Fenris imagines Anders leaning forward, his amber eyes full of care. 

"I thought..." Hawke sighs, her clothes ruffling as she moves. "I want to marry Merrill."

"Oh, Maker!" Anders exclaims. "That's wonderful! Congratulations." A pause. "But?" 

Another creak from one of the heavy, stuffed chairs in Hawke's library, and then he hears Hawke pacing, her voice wandering from side to side. "Well, our options are kind of limited, for some fucking reason, aren't they? We can't go to the Chantry, obviously."

"Yeah," Anders says. "It would be hilarious though. 'May I introduce my soon to be wife, Merrill of the dalish, a mage you haven't caught yet, with a penchant for bloodmagic.'"

"The hilarity would be short lived, I think." Hawke lets out a bitter laugh. 

"Yes, afraid so," Anders muses. "Mother Elthina might just combust on the spot. Can't say I'd grieve much for her."

"So, since the Chantry won't marry us, Merrill will ask the keeper of her clan to do the ritual." Hawke is pacing again. "Which is a whole other awkward problem, what with her being exiled and the new keeper not exactly on best terms with Merrill." 

"I'm sorry," Anders says. "This shouldn't all be so complicated."

"Right?" Something clatters to the floor. "I mean, I love her, I just want to marry her, without risking her to be killed, made tranquil, or further shit on by her clan."

"Ten years from now, maybe a hundred years from now, a mage will marry someone like you, and nobody will interfere."

Fenris clenches his hands at his sides. There's such longing in Anders' voice, Fenris feels it like his own pain.

"I don't want to wait that long." Hawke's voice has never before sounded like this, close to tears and so defeated.

"If the keeper refuses, I can do the ritual for you," Anders says.

Hawke chuckles. "Are you a chantry mother now, too?"

"I think being a healer is pretty close to that." Fenris can just imagine his wild grin at that. "But I also carry Justice in me and if a literal spirit of justice approves of your bond, what can anybody possibly say against that?"

Fenris silently steps back, slowly letting out a breath. He walks back to the hall, his thoughts tumbling over each other. Muffin looks up again and Fenris kneels down next to him, scratching the pelt at his neck as he tries to order his thoughts. 

Hawke is a good person and she loves Merrill. Merrill, even though she's a bloodmage, has never abused another person for her powers, and helps people whenever she can. But their bond is forbidden, just as it would be for him and Anders. 

Somehow, this revelation flutters like wings in his chest. Anders talked about the hate Fenris brings into his life, but he didn't even mention the hate he gets from everywhere else. His entire existence as a free mage is forbidden, just as a free slave has been forbidden for all of Fenris' life. 

And Fenris has never truly realized how wrong that is. 

Muffin nudges his side because he stopped petting him. Fenris continues scratching the mabari's neck as the door to the library opens and Hawke comes out. 

"Fenris. When did you get here?"

Scrambling to his feet, Fenris stretches his legs. "Just a few minutes ago, Orana let me in."

Behind Hawke, Anders looks at him over her shoulder. He doesn't smile, not even trying to. Anders always wears his emotions on his face, which makes him terrible at bluffing during Wicked Grace. And now there's so much pain in his expression, Fenris feels guilty to be the cause of that.

Hawke notices something and looks between them, but Anders already turns back into the library, his spine too straight, his hands clenched at his sides. Hawke takes a breath but doesn't call him back, even though she clearly wants to. She sighs instead and walks over to Fenris.

"What can I do for you?" she asks, ignoring the tense atmosphere in the room.

"You remember the letter you helped me write to my sister?" Fenris pulls an envelope from his pocket. "She wrote me back."

"Let me see. I'll read it to you." Hawke holds out her hand but Fenris looks at the door to the library. It's still slightly ajar, and he wonders if Anders listens to their conversation just like he did.

"Do you want Anders to read it to you?" There's no judgement in her voice.

Fenris shakes his head. "No, I... I can tell him later."

Hawke opens the envelope and pulls out the letter. "Dear brother," she reads.

#18daysoffenders #fenders #fenders fic #Fenris x Anders #dragon age #dragon age fanfiction #my writing

[thornfield13713]

..look, I can’t help if Elthina had really bad judgement of who to trust.

As for ‘innocent’.

...the woman stage-managed the brutal death of the last true Viscount of Kirkwall for his opposition to Orlais. She placed Meredith in charge of the city, didn’t intervene or actively encouraged everything Petrice did to whip up hatred against the Qunari and made any peaceful solution to the city’s division impossible.

Yeah, I’m going to say she deserved what she fucking got.

#dragon age

[sugarbubbleslove]

Dragon Age

Alright - I'm gonna go with what I would love to see in Dragon Age 4.

Stealing. I want to steal back. I LOVED being the Dark Wolf in Origins/Awakening. (My Cousland adored having everyone freaking out). It's part of the reason why I can't really play as a rogue in II because it feels wrong with no stealing.

Healing. PLEASE give me my goddamn healing ability back. Screw limited potions and no healing. I want the chance to play as a spirit healer again.

Bombs/Traps again, please? Because those were fun. Origins were so much fun because of their versatility.

Hybrid classes. Looking at the Trailer for DA4, I get the feeling Magic is going to play a big part in it and I'm...not enthusiastic about it.

Don't get me wrong - I love playing as a mage (Damien Amell/Melinda Hawke dominate the battlefield) but I do LOVE playing as a Rogue/Warrior.

But I want how the Warriors could dual-wield, use archery and steal. Hell, even my mage could steal.

But I would love it if my Warriors could bash locks or my Mages could use magic to open locks. (Origins really makes me feel I should be playing as a rogue with the number of locked chests about).

More Specializations. I like Ranger for my Rogue. Summoning animals, yes, please.

Spirit healer was fun - and would have been an awesome addition to Inquisition if you could have a spirit agree to help you with your magic, imagine the conversation Solas/Cole could have had with your spirit (But at the same time, I get why they didn't because you know - can't have the 'Herald of Andraste' communing with spirits (never mind that Andraste could have been communing with a spirit)

The options to USE ALL MY TALENTS I unlock! Like in Origins/II, you could use the wheel to access more abilities where in Inquisition, you're freaking LOCKED!! Unless you have it on the tab, you're screwed and it's annoying!

What's the freaking point of giving us all those talents if I can't access them while in battle?! Seriously! GIVE ME MY GODDAMN TALENTS!!

And...I'm gonna be spiteful here but this is mostly because of my current playthrough - the chance to kill off my Inquisitior....

I have a playthrough where my Cousland romances Alistair, makes him the King and agrees to be his Queen only to refuse the dark sacrifice and takes the final blow. Then I leave my Hawke - who romances Sebastian and makes him prince, becoming his Princess - in the Fade so....please? I kind of wanna continue the trend of my heroes pretty much giving the country/world the finger before jumping to their death.

(Though I was even more bitcher and had my Cousland keep Alistair a Grey Warden, refused the ritual and took the killing blow then left Alistair in the fade because...fun...)

I would be so fucking gleeful if I get the option to actually kill off my inquisitor at some point (or find out they died in between Inquisition and 4th game).

To keep the chance to refuse to believe in the Maker. God, that was so funny, I actually played my Trevelyan who refused to believe in the Maker, who refused to believe it was Andraste in the Fade (arguing with Mother Giselle as a result) and I got the option to tell Mother Giselle that she was happy that was she was right about it just being dumb luck that she had the Mark and that the Maker/Andraste had no say in it and Mother Giselle actually called out my character, saying she was no better than those who like to shove their facts down people throats.

I was actually stunned and I wanted to bite off Mother Giselle's face for the first time since playing this game by reminding her that the Chantry shove their 'facts' down everyone's throat, constantly cut out/covers up the parts they don't like. Like I didn't hear about Shartan being cut out of the chant you hypercritical little bitch! I was there at fucking Haven when Shartan said he fought at Andraste's side yet your pathetic cult cut him out because he was an elf and you can't have your precious Andraste cavorting with an elf, can you.

It was actually the same with Wynne, my Cousland told her that she never wanted to become a warden, didn't find it an honour and just wanted to find her brother. Wynne actually called Cousland selfish for wanting to put her own needs above the world.

Like excuse me you little cunt, you were locked up in that circle the whole fucking time. YOU have no idea what is required to become a warden. If you thought it was such a fucking honour, then you should have offered your own ass to Ridoran when he was looking for Wardens. Then I could have given you to the Archdemon.

And not to mention Grand Elthina. Like holy fuck did the Maker have a fucking hand in my Warden saving the world. She didn't save it for the Maker's sake, she died because she LOST her fucking FAMILY to betrayal. Seriously - if my warden was there, she would have snapped the old woman's neck. Glad that my Hawke could say that the maker had nothing to do with it.

And I still firmly believe she was setting up the stage for the templar/mage war. Like hell the Maker would waste their time saving your pathetic ass when you couldn't even do anything to stop the war.

She could have easily gone to the Divine with her fears and suggested a change in Knight-commander and First Enchanter. What did she do? Tell Hawke to tell Leliana that everything is peachy keen and there is nothing to world about.

I told Leliana to get the Divine to start a fucking holy war before the war actually broke out (and look what happened, Elthina died. The Maker didn't save her)

and WHY do people think the Maker would actually save them? Like hello? The last time the Maker, apparently, got involved - Andraste was BURNED at the freaking STAKE!

Do you really think the Maker would risk that again?

And I just went off on a rant...sorry about that.

But, by all means Bioware, keep giving me shitty old woman who thinks they know better so I can keep kicking them off the ledge of their high and mighty horse.

#Dragon Age #What I would love to see in the next game #Yeah #you #I actually like my dead Cousland/Alistair pining for her playthrough #and it makes sense that Alistair would be left behind in the fade #Mother Giselle critical #Elthina Critical #Wynne critical #fuck off old ladies #stop acting like you know my character #you know shit #Sorry about the rant #apparently it's been building up

[sapphim]

please tell us about the kirkwall campaign and warden hexcrawl too!

the warden hexcrawl is this massive game that's been running in vigil's keep for over a decade now. with a west marches campaign you don't need to get a consistent group together, you can just collect anyone who's available to play at a given time and throw together an adventuring party. at this point the map is enormous, spanning multiple planes of existence. they've cleared entire megadungeons. everyone ends up collecting a stable of characters they can choose from based on party comp and desired level of play. dm-ing your first session is something of a rite of passage. it spun off from whatever informal game they played around the campfire during the blight but since then it's evolved into what is essentially an institution.

the kirkwall campaign is. something else entirely lmfao. varric's a really well-practiced and flexible dm now but booooy did they get off to a rough start because he built an entire campaign around the party behaving essentially as he expected them to, and that plan was ruined the moment they rolled their characters.

I’m cutting this for length here bc christ it’s so much. if it’s too much then blame @sandayuoda

anders. ruins everything immediately because varric was expecting him to play a healer and instead he turns up with this extremely chaotic revenge-motivated edgelord of a character. he's tired of being nice and sometimes he just wants to go apeshit, you know? this is the only outlet he has for stress release these days. he shows up to session one and shows varric his character sheet and varric's like "what the fuck" and then he hands varric his 20 pages of tragic character backstory (he read the campaign document and tied his character's backstory into the setting) and varric's like "what the everloving fuck blondie." varric had littered that thing with red herring villains and clever misdirection (he thought) and anders immediately pinpointed the intended bbeg of the campaign (not!Meredith) and made his tragic backstory revolve heavily around her. who actually reads the campaign document??? well that was lucky for him, since eventually leaning on this backstory becomes one of the only ways he can keep the campaign moving forward. also, anders outs himself as a closet furry by playing catfolk, to the surprise of absolutely no one.

aveline. predictable human paladin type. claims to be LG but ultimately plays more like LN. at the start she's one of the only things keeping the party on the rails but eventually just ends up following them around and tutting disapproval (much like in real life). she's that player who writes a completely normal character with a completely normal backstory and family waiting for them back home so the dm has to continually jump through hoops to provide them with character motivation to continue adventuring.

bethany. absolutely does not want to play a spellcaster. plays instead a sort of martial ranger/hunter build and dumps everything into animal handling. essentially plays a pretty disney princess except everywhere she goes she’s followed by a small army of feral animals she's befriended and trained to fight.

carver. plays some sort of magus/gish type, because yeah ok magic is cool, but swords are cooler. crossplays as a female character and it's no big deal but it's also really, really hard for the party to keep the pronouns straight because she's a hot-headed veteran so he's essentially just playing himself.

fenris. just a fighter guy. (varric: "really, broody? an elf with a big sword?" fenris: "I was told I could be what I want. is that not allowed.") his character has no backstory and needs no backstory. he is here to roll dice and his character is a single child and an orphan with no ties to anyone or anything so stop asking. deals the highest dpr in the party as he eventually gets sucked into reading charop guides and thus becomes the only one among them who is even a little bit optimized.

isabela. every party needs a chaotic neutral rogue and she is happy to oblige. something fun and sexy and chaotic like a tiefling. (isabela: "what? I'm optimized. I put all my skill ranks into seduce and fuck" varric: "those aren't things and you haven't found a single trap since the game started") on a mission to get loot, start bar fights, and flirt with every npc she encounters. (she always asks to touch their chest hair. she may just be flirting with varric. it becomes a running gag that every barmaid in varric's world has a lustrous carpet of chest hair.) tbh isabela is one of the only players behaving exactly as chaotically as varric expected, he just hoped she'd be outvoted.

merrill. plays a chaotic good barbarian type, some massive dude. she does the best deep growly voice she can manage. she just wants to try something fun and different! her barbarian is also a real sweetheart and probably the most unoptimized character, with the highest intelligence of anyone in the party.

sebastian. also ruins everything immediately with his character. (varric: "choir boy, you can't play a fiendpact warlock, you're... you know... you!" seb: "...but this is a roleplaying game, right? I was told this was a roleplaying game.") also plays a tiefling, which is his repressed slutty side coming out. he and isabela didn’t plan this out but she finds it hilarious and they get together after the session and plot out a joint backstory in which they do crimes. after he makes one too many off-handed jokes about his dark patron being "basically [his] evil grandmother" varric starts playing her like elthina but he'll never admit it.

eventually the party's rolling up into town followed by a pack of wolves, an owlbear, an alligator, and a murder of ravens

isabela and hawke ask simultaneously where the nearest tavern is

seb's like "oh varric remember it's getting time I need to appease my dark patron again"

aveline sighs and says "I'll be making donations at the temple I guess"

varric just holds up his stack of notes for the town and tears them into pieces in front of them

"I may as well just rip these up right now and get it out of the way because we all know how this is going to end"

"how is it going to--"

"in disaster, merrill, that's how it's going to end. that's how it always ends."

anyway that was then. they've been playing the same characters for years (as varric has pulled increasingly absurd threats for them to face off against out of his ass) so now they're prestige classed epic level abominations of characters. hawke highkey prestiged into dragon disciple and later found a way to permanently polymorph into a full dragon at some point, I'm sure.

#catgirlalchemist

[dalishious]

Fiona and In Hushed Whispers

People are some stunned about my girl Fiona in my inbox, so let me educate you assholes on why the Fiona in The Calling and Asunder is pretty much an entire different character in DA:I’s In Hushed Whispers. And subsequently, why it is unbelievable that she would sell herself and her people to Tevinter; it actually still disgusts me to think about the implications of this writing decision.

“But characters can change!” Yeah, of course they can. Too bad there is nothing about the changes in the way Fiona is written in DA:I compared to the novels that is linear, sensical or anything other than feeling like her name was attached to the need for a character’s role as an afterthought, rather than coherently weaving her into the story as the character she is established as.

Unfortunately, the person who could help me explain all this so much better is no longer here with us, so I will have to do my best alone in their memory.

1. What Happened to “Fuck the Divine?”

I am starting with this point, just because even with everything to come after, it is the one piece that still boggles my mind the most.

In DA:I, when asked about the possibility of compromise with the templars trying to kill and jail them, Fiona says “all hope of peace died with Justinia,” with a solemn frown.

Do you know what Fiona has to say about Divine Justinia in Asunder?

“We are to discuss Pharamond's research,” Wynne insisted. “Nothing more. If you derail this conclave, Fiona, we'll never get another.” Fiona snorted derisively. “This isn't a conclave. This is a joke! We could discuss what to do about the Rite of Tranquility until we were blue in the face; do you believe the templars would even think about following our advice?” “The Divine is willing to—” “Fuck the Divine.” She sighed when the others stared at her, stunned by her blasphemy, and rubbed her forehead in agitation. “I'm certain the Divine is a perfectly nice person," she continued in a more conciliatory tone. “So was Grand Cleric Elthina in Kirkwall. She did her best to keep everyone happy, and what happened? Nothing was resolved, until finally her inaction killed her.” Wynne frowned. “She was killed by the act of one madman.” “I'm not going to condone what Anders did,” Fiona said, “but I understand why he did it. I'm only suggesting that we act, not blow up the White Spire.” “Aren't you? How do you think the templars will respond to this?” “We are not responsible for their actions. We're only responsible for our own.”

Fiona doesn’t give a fuck about Justinia. Fiona doesn’t believe a damn thing from Justinia’s claims of wanting peace between mages and templars. In fact, she verbally calls Justinia’s inaction out, claiming she will do nothing but try to appease everyone rather than address the problems with the Circles. Even if Fiona gained some respect for Justinia between Asunder and DA:I, it is still unbelievable that Fiona would put all her hope and plans into the Chantry, the very organization she has spent years rebelling against. That she would have no contingency plans. Hell, even within the game there is conflicting dialogue from her on this! In Val Royeaux, she says the reason she did not attend the conclave personally is because she did not expect to be safe there. And yet back in Redcliffe, she changes her tune to mourning the conclave’s failure.

2. Fiona Hates Tevinter Magisters

Fiona is very empathetic about elven oppression, just as much as she is with mage struggles. Throughout The Calling, she speaks of past and present injustices against elves on multiple occasions. One of the lengthiest bits is pretty early in the novel:

“Is it an elven thing? I knew a lot of elves back in Val Royeaux, and every one of them had a chip on their shoulders. Even the ones that didn’t come from the alienage.” She shot him an incredulous look. “It’s not as if we don’t have a good reason to be bitter, you know.” “Yes, yes, I know. We terrible humans destroyed the Dales. One of the elves I knew fancied himself a Dalish elf, even painted up his face to look like them. I thought he’d finally gone off to the forests to search for one of their clans, but it turned out he’d gotten himself arrested. Anyway, he used to talk about the Dales all the time.” She stopped, stamping her staff down onto the stone so that the globe flashed brightly for a moment. Her exasperation with him was obvious. “There’s more to it than that. Far more! Don’t you even know?” “Know what? That your people were enslaved? Everyone knows that.” “There was a time,” her eyes flashed crossly, “when elves lived forever. Did you know that, as well? We spoke our own language, built magnificent wonders across all of Thedas, had our own homeland—and this was long before the Dales ever existed.” “And then you were enslaved.” “By the magisters of the Tevinter Imperium, yes. Just one of their crimes, and probably not even their greatest.” Fiona turned away from Duncan and ran a slender hand across the corruption covering a nearby wall. “They took everything from us that was beautiful. They even made us forget what we once were. It wasn’t until the prophet Andraste released us that we even realized what we had lost.” “And she was human, wasn’t she? We’re not all so bad.” “Her own people burned her at the stake.” “I meant the rest of us.” She looked back at him, smiling gamely even though her eyes were tinged with sadness. “Andraste gave us the Dales, a new homeland to replace the old. But your people took that away from us, too, in the end. Now we either live in your cities as vermin or wander as outlaws, but either way we’re unwanted.” Duncan smirked mockingly at her. “Aww. Poor elves.” The mage swung her still-glowing staff at his head, but he danced aside, laughing merrily. The sound hung oddly in the gloom. “Not sympathetic enough, I suppose?” He grinned. “I grew up on the streets, so if you were looking for reassurance on how good us humans really are, you aren’t going to get it from me.” “You did ask,” she reminded him. “About the King I did.” He pointed at the others, who now had gotten ahead of them. Fiona noticed it, too, and began hurrying to catch up. He kept pace. “Those things you talked about… they happened so long ago hardly anybody who doesn’t keep their nose stuck in a book would even know half of them. Elves aren’t just slaves anymore.” “You think so?” Her look was dark, her tone suddenly brittle. “Do you think slavery just up and disappeared that day for every one of us?”

(SIDE NOTE: for those of you who are no doubt saying “what the fuck, Duncan,” rest assured he learns better before the novel ends, and obviously much more as he becomes an adult, since by the time of DA:O he shows a far greater sympathy and understanding. Please also know that Duncan was a homeless orphan with no real education; he doesn’t need to be such an asshole about it here, but he really, truly, does not know the extent of what Fiona is talking about at this point. Though there’s something else entirely that could be said about Gaider writing a Black man be so dismissive of slavery...)

Fiona tries to educate Duncan on Tevinter’s history of elven genocide, and how it laid the groundwork for the continuous inequalities in Thedas. She gets so frustrated that it ends up more like a vent/rant. This exchange is more than just lore exposition to the reader, but part of establishing her character as well. Up to this point in the novel, it is not explained why Fiona is so mistrusting of Maric, and irritated by his presence. This is the chapter that reveals that she expects him to be no different than the magisters, her former master, and any other human in power. And why should she, when her only experiences have been nothing but this?

I would also like to specifically point out the part where when Fiona talks about Tevinter, she turns away. Throughout the novel, this is an action she repeatedly does when she is uncomfortable and/or distressed with a conversation, feeling she can’t speak. This is a painful topic for her, for multiple obvious reasons. The fact that she touches the corrupted wall when saying the magisters have committed even greater crimes is her way of non-verbally referring to the fact that on top of everything else, the Tevinter magisters started the Blight. The very thing they as Grey Wardens exist to battle.

If it takes Fiona an entire novel of getting to know Maric to believe the King of Ferelden is not just as bad as the magisters, how exactly is she so willing to trust a single thing an actual Tevinter magister like Alexius says, after a single, suspicious “rescue?” She herself even says that there are pieces of the events to occur that don’t make sense. And yet instead of questioning this, she agrees to be indentured to his services. She agrees to enslave herself and her people. This is utterly preposterous, considering what she herself has been through.

3. Fiona Has Already Escaped Slavery

[TW for kidnapping, child abuse and paedophilia]

Fiona was formerly enslaved and a CSA survivor. When slavers came to the Montsimmard alienage, they saw a seven-year-old orphaned Fiona and lured her in with food. They then sold her to an Orlesian noble who kept her as a child sex slave.

Count Dorian, as she learned her new master’s name to be, had been in search of an elven whore he could keep as a pet, something he could put in a pretty dress and bring with him on one of his many trips to the capital, like baggage. The Countess had permitted him his new toy, and completely ignored Fiona as she went about her own dalliances. Fiona lived in that household a prisoner, invisible and not even knowing that any of it was wrong, only that she needed to please the Count or suffer his wrath. Often his wrath came whether he was pleased or not. Escaping the man had not been easy. Fortune had brought her to the notice of an elderly mage on the streets of Val Royeaux, though the Count’s fury when he discovered it had been immeasurable. She still flinched when she thought of how he had whipped her that night. He had gouged and bled her until she had pleaded for death, and he had denied her even that. And then she had grown angry. She had dug deep down inside and demanded that whatever talent for magic she had, a talent in which she did not even truly believe until that moment, come forth and save her. And it had. She had killed the Count with raw magical force, and lay bleeding beside his corpse as exhaustion took her. The demons had come, then. They had whispered soft things, promising that they could take all the pain away. So desperate was their desire to possess her they nipped away at her mind, and it was all she could do to lie there and cry silent tears as she resisted. The Countess found her in the dungeon, unconscious and lying in a pool of her own blood. Almost dead. Why the woman had contacted the Circle of Magi to come and take Fiona away, she had no idea. She never saw the woman again. Perhaps the Countess had felt pity? Perhaps she had felt some gratitude for the elf who had finally slain her cruel husband and transformed her into a rich widow? She could just as easily have called on the watch, or let her die. The Circle, sadly, had been little better. At least the nightmares grew fainter in time. She thought that she had finally put them behind her, but apparently it was not so.

Fiona has firsthand experience with not being in control of her life. And when life in the Circle turned out to feel much of the same, she swore she would never let it happen again. That is the whole reason she joined the Grey Wardens.

“I don’t know what he did to you, but…” “I was a slave,” she answered, as easily as she could. “The Count bought me from slavers when I was seven years old, and I was his pet until I was fourteen.” The words came out in a rush, and she felt the flush crawl up her cheeks. She had never spoken of this to anyone. It was a part of her life she had buried, pushed down into shadows never to be thought of again. Yet she felt like she had to tell him. “What you saw, that was my life until I finally murdered him and escaped to the Circle.” Maric’s eyes were wide with horror. “I don’t know what to say.” “What is there to say?” She shrugged. “Slavery is illegal in the Empire, but it still goes on. Nobody pays attention if an elf disappears here or there. Nobody cares what happens to us in the alienage. Wealthy, powerful men like the Count get to do whatever they like, to whomever they like, so long as nobody cares.” “I’m sorry.” “No need to apologize. I was lucky. I had the talent for magic, a curse for every other person and yet for me it meant freedom. It meant an escape to the Circle, the lone elf in the tower, uneducated and frightened of anyone who even came near me.” She grimaced at the memory. “The mages were just men, I discovered. Capricious and sad and bigoted just like everywhere else. I swore I wouldn’t let them keep me, and I escaped them, too.” “To the Grey Wardens.” She nodded. “Some people look on becoming a Grey Warden as a duty. Maybe even a punishment. Duncan had to be forced. I begged to be recruited.” The memory was an unpleasant one. The Joining ritual that had followed it was even less so. Drink the blood of darkspawn, they said, and if you survive it will only be for a time. You will be a Grey Warden until the Calling comes at last. And she had drunk it gladly. And she hadn’t looked back.

And so what does Fiona do when she does return to the Circle after being cured of the Taint through the events of The Calling? She turns her life’s work into campaigning for not just regaining her own freedom, but for the freedom of all mages.

But in DA:I, she woefully tells the Inquisitor she felt no choice but for the free mages to “pledge themselves in service to the Tevinter Imperium”, becoming indentured to Alexius.

The idea that someone who escaped slavery would willingly give up her independence, willingly give herself back into slavery, willingly give up the freedom of all the mages she is trying to fight to gain freedom for, is gross. Imagine if in DA:I, Varric informed the Inquisitor that after everything Fenris went through, he decided to become a magister’s servant. That is literally the equivalent of what has been written here with Fiona.

Fiona says that her options were to either lead the free mages in a last stand at Redcliffe, or serve Alexius and his crew. So she chose to save as many lives as she could. However, I cannot understand why she would need to make a last stand at all, when the King and/or Queen of Ferelden granted the mages safe haven at Redcliffe. I understand that certain parts of the events that occurred leading up to this decision do not make sense due to the time travel involved, but I do not know how this can be explained away.

4. Fiona Will Not Be Silenced

During the pseudo alliance between the Inquisitor and Alexius, Fiona steps up and asks Alexius if her mages are to have no say in their fate. Alexius dismisses her completely, though the Inquisitor has the option of inviting Fiona into the conversation on the Inquisition’s behalf. If they do not do this, however, Fiona simply shies away again.

This is extremely out of character. As surely you can understand given her background, Fiona does not like being pushed around. I’d be willing to believe that with age this could get more relaxed, if not for the fact that she still holds this trait as of Asunder, which only takes place a year prior to DA:I. What does Fiona do when she is similarly ordered to be silent in Asunder?

“We're not waiting,” Fiona declared. “We're here now, and we're well aware of what we're to discuss. We don't need another Tranquil to underline the kind of contempt in which the templars hold us.” “Will you keep it down!” one of the first enchanters hissed fearfully, an Antivan man with a braided black beard. “No, I will not.” Her staff flashed as she turned her glare on the other mages before her. “This is the first time we've been allowed together in a year, and I'm not going to waste it.”

Fiona has no problem standing up to an entire room of mages, half of whom disagree with her, but backs down from a single, crusty Tevinter man? I think not.

I’m not saying that Fiona being strong and independent means she should never be allowed to show vulnerability or insecurity—because she does have these sides too in the novels, just like any fully realized character—what I’m saying is, this is not a time and place where she would.

5. Fiona Believes in Democracy

As if all of the above isn’t enough to add up against why it makes sense for Fiona’s character to do as she does in DA:I, there is also the fact that Fiona as a leader does not issue commands over such big decisions. She declares a vote.

At the end of Asunder, mages from across Thedas flee to Andoral’s Reach, where the start of the rebellion truly begins. As Grand Enchanter, Fiona could have made a fair decision to push that they all rebel at that moment. Instead, she calls for a vote on what they should do, and asserts that they will all follow the winning vote. It stands to reason that Fiona would lead a vote on the fate of the mages in this case as well, yet the other mage characters around Redcliffe like Talwyn, Lysas and Connor tell the Inquisitor they had no say at all in the decision.

Anyway…

The fact is, the character who leads the mages in DA:I and the character of Fiona we know from The Calling and Asunder might as well be two different people entirely. It feels more like someone scrolled through a fan wiki page about her when adding her to the game, rather than reading the actual novels that she comes from. And as consequence, Fiona’s characterization suffers, which in turn just adds to the confusion with the whole In Hushed Whispers quest. And it’s a shame, because Fiona really is one of the best characters to come from the novels, in my opinion.

If anyone is interested in getting a grasp of who Fiona really is, then I would recommend reading The Calling first and foremost. While I can’t say it’s phenomenally written overall, she and Duncan most definitely stand out. (Maric as well, to a somewhat lesser degree. I have to admit that I enjoy him more in The Stolen Throne, but in his defence I can hardly blame him for being super depressed for the majority of The Calling.)

#fiona #grand enchanter fiona #dragon age #dai #in hushed whispers #the calling #asunder #meta

[curiousthimble]

Fictober Days 11-15

Read All My Fictober Fics

Day 11: I Swear, It's Not Always Like This Characters: Natia Brosca, Duran Aeducan, Alistair, Duncan

Fucking Stone. What had happened to her?

Natia sat up, putting a hand to her head and groaning. She felt like she’d drunk a whole keg of ale on her own— the good stuff, like the Black Onyx NugShroom brew Tapster only breached for deshyrs from the Diamond Quarter.

Except what she’d actually drunk was much, much worse than the Onyx.

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Day 12: You Keep Me Safe Characters: Grey Warden OCs (Hera and Tibault), Alistair, Natia Brosca

“Duran looked like he might actually have hit you,” Alistair said as he walked with Natia to the mess tent. “I haven’t spent much time with him, but he doesn’t really seem the type to go straight to violence.”

Natia wrapped her arms around herself and shivered again, utterly miserable. She still felt sick, but now there was an additional chill that went all the way to her bones. “He’s a son of a nug humping bastard,” she muttered.

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Day 13: The Things You Make Me Do Characters: Natia Brosca, Duran Aeducan, Alistair, Duncan

“We have to what ?”

Natia pinched the bridge of her nose, wanting nothing more than to shove a dirty sock into Duran’s mouth. Did the man ever stop talking?

“You are to light the beacon in the tower,” Duncan repeated. “Alistair will go with you.”

“But I’m a warrior !” Duran argued. “I belong on the front lines with the others!”

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Day 14: Your Information Was Wrong Characters: Isabela, Varric, Hawke

“Somebody’s keeping secrets,” Isabela sang as she sat her tankard on the table. “And I know what it is.”

Varric leaned forward, a suspicious glint in his eye. “Oh yeah, Rivani? What secret would that be?”

Isabela’s playful smile morphed into something sly and just a little seductive. Catriona watched as she leaned closer, giving Varric more than an eyeful of her generous cleavage. “You’re going to have to buy it out of me, dwarf,” she purred. “And tell me if my tits look good.”

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Day 15: I Like That In You Characters: Catriona Hawke, Sebastian Vael

“Catriona, how nice to see you.”

Catriona gave Sebastian her prettiest smile, looking down shyly. “I promised I’d come,” she reminded him, pushing aside the nagging guilt in her gut. She had indeed promised she’d come, but her reason for coming to the Chantry had more to do than a walk in the garden.

Sebastian reached out and took her hand, enveloping it in his own. “I’m glad you did,” he said, lowering his voice. “I’ve...I’ve wanted to talk with you privately.”

“Oh?” she asked, pretending she didn’t know that Sebastian was going to confess his feelings for her.

“I— yes.”

“What about?” she asked, eyes wide with innocence. “Is it important? I— I need to speak with Elthina.”

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#fictober21 #dragon age origins #dragon age #dragon age 2

[rosexknight]

@arceusfan493 Here’s that Dragon Age 2 rant you wanted.

Because I am still not over it.

Under the Read More, I have for you: - Lore Context - How Dragon Age 2 is Amazing - How it Hurt Me Enjoy~!

Oh yeah and major spoiler warning for Dragon Age 2 and minor spoiler warning for Dragon Age Origins and Awakening.

Lore Context ((Note: It is way more in-depth than this, I am simplifying ALOT))

Okay so. In the Dragon Age universe, magic is seen as super dangerous, because mages and those who have magical abilities are connected what is called the Fade, which is like a world that mirrors ours. It is also known as the Dream World, and every race but dwarves dream, but Mages specifically are connected to it in a way that lets them manipulate it for magic. In the Fade there are spirits and demons that can be brought into the real world by a mage or take over a mage’s body to enter our world. When this happens the mage becomes what is called an “Abomination” and loses all semblance of themselves. Demons are dangerous, spirits not so much, and demons are actually just spirits that have been twisted from their original purpose, usually by desire/pride/rage/etc. Spirits are the embodiment of virtues, where as demons are usually the embodiment of sins. There’s also Blood Magic which is hella powerful but corrupting and usually links back to demons.

There is also some religious reasons why magic is so feared, as it’s basically said that mages that got too close to God caused all the bad shit happening in the world (specifically a literal and metaphorical plague called the Blight) and also there are political reasons since there is a country/kingdom that’s all mage-run and it’s not great.

So for the protection of all the non-mages, they lock all mages in these towers called Circles so that they can study, hone their skills, etc. But they're essentially prisons, and the mages are watched over by Templars, which are like anti-magic paladins. And all this is ran by the church called the Chantry (there's a shit ton of lore and all these fears are linked back to that religion I mentioned earlier.) In order to become full mages, you have to pass a test where they put you against a demon in the Fade to prove you can handle your magic. If you fail you become an abomination. If the Circle thinks you will fail this test, they will (literally) brand you Tranquil, which cuts off a mage from the Fade but ALSO makes them 100% emotionless. Also if you get too good, they might also brand you a Blood Mage and kill you anyway.

Also, there is no escape. You can try to escape, but when you come to the Circle, the Chantry takes your blood and puts it in a vial. They then use this blood to track you down if you slip away.

Now, in the games we have seen that SOMETIMES the Circles are not that bad. Mages can get special permission to live outside the Circles as long as they can get jobs. Some mages are perfectly content there, while others aren’t. The mages might be governed by the Chantry and Templars but usually each Circle is kind of given its own freedoms to have its own politics, etc. HOWEVER, whether or not you're put in a good Circle is a toss-up, completely dependent on where you are, who is in charge, etc. And also the Templars can call upon the Right of Annulment if they feel the things in the tower are getting out of control, which essentially nukes the tower and destroys it and all the mages. OH and you are sent to the Circles when your magic starts manifesting (between the ages of 4-14) with no say from you or your family. Just “Oh you got magic? Time to lock you in this tower.” SO needless to say, things between Mages and Templars are fucking tense, and the game is not shy about giving this whole thing a prison feel. The mages are very obviously the oppressed class here (elves are also oppressed but in a different way and I’m not going into that.)

Also you can play as a mage in-game, which makes this all hit especially home if you do since you as the player both see and experience it.

OKAY that should be all the lore context you need.

How Dragon Age 2 is Amazing

DA2 takes place in a town with one of the bad Circles. The Commander of the Templars, Meredith, has basically gone insane. She’s become paranoid, and is turning mages Tranquil (illegally btw because we know that she turns some Tranquil even after they passed that test I mentioned earlier,) or killing them left and right. However, in conjunction to that, there's ALOT of shit that happens that are all mages fault. Blood magic, demons, your mom (basically the only family you have left at that point btw) gets killed by a crazy necromancer, etc.

So it puts you, the player and your PC Hawke, in this situation where you clearly see magic is HELLA DANGEROUS, but you also see that the mages are being pushed too hard by the Templars and are taking drastic measures to escape or fight back. And again, it hits doubly hard if you play as a mage. The game also takes place over the span of 7 years, so you see it all build up and get worse and worse as you play.

So it presents the conundrum: Do all mages suck or is it because of what is happening? It's fucking brilliant. Especially coming from the first game, Origins, where you see a good Tower that's super chill until one crazy mage fucks it up. You see what horrors magic can bring but also see and hear how crazy Templars can be when they face such horrors (this is clear with both Meredith herself AND a recurring character named Cullen but if I talk about him we’ll be here all day.)

Anyway, point is there's clearly no right answer to which side is right or wrong, and the game builds up on it alot. It gives you all the perspectives with Meredith, the paranoid Templar Commander, Orsino, the leader of the Circle who is just trying to keep the peace and defend the mages, and the Grand Cleric in the Chantry Elthina, who refuses to take a side even though she has the power to basically end it all. Your companions also have opinions on all of it as it unfolds. And it puts you right in the middle of it all. And you experience all of it.

Like I said, fucking brilliant.

How it Hurt Me

One of your companions is Anders, who is a mage that has run away from the Circle you know of from Origins. He's a healer that is helping people from an underground (free) clinic, and has also been helping mages escape the city. He's all about freedom for mages, and has fused with a Justice spirit that he became friends with. The spirit saw the injustice that was happening to the mages and wanted to further help. Both Anders and Justice are from Dragon Age Awakening, which comes after Origins. They are companions in that game and you see how their friendship grows and how they come to be able to help each other.

Now I LOVED Anders and Justice in Awakening. I was ALL FOR seeing them again seeing how the years had changed them, and helping them. I also played as a mage in both games so I was also all for mage freedom. It’s also worth noting that in Awakening you learn the Circle was NOT kind to Anders. He’s a free spirit, a lover not a fighter, and he was suffocated. He tried to escape like 7 times and after the last one they put him IN SOLITARY CONFINEMENT FOR A FUCKING YEAR. He was 100% expecting to be killed every time he was caught. “Oh but couldn’t he have used those methods you mentioned earlier to live outside the Circle?” you may ask. And like, yeah maybe. But also...No one should have to do that?

I romanced Anders because I adore him. He’s a bit of a broody boy in DA2 that tries to push you away, but he’s hella sweet and supportive. Funny. Small hint of danger with Justice. He's great. And it was great to romance him in DA2 since I was playing Awakening going “No please why can I not romance YOU?”

Well throughout the game you see that due to the anger Anders has, Justice is getting morphed into something more akin to a spirit of Vengeance as things are pushed more, and that Anders is having trouble controlling him. Depending on what route you take with the romance, he and Justice can either fuse into something like only one being, or Justice can be turned fully into a demon of Vengeance. Both of these are heavily implied more than confirmed, so it’s kind of ambiguous, but the ending is the same. Anders becomes consumed by this, and everything else is drowned out.

Eventually, towards the end of the game, when Meredith has sent off for permission to the Right of Annulment, and Orsino can’t control the many other mages wanting to fight back, and things between mages and Templars are coming to a head, Anders asks you to come with him to get some ingredients that will make a potion to separate he and Justice. Then that turns out to be a lie and he asks you to distract Elthina in the Chantry so he can do...a thing. And he won’t tell you what. And you know he's up to something. BUT in DA2 and Awakening he's ALWAYS said that violence isn't the answer and that we have to show people mages can be good by example, and been against blood magic, etc. So you have the option to help him or not.

I helped him because SURELY he wouldn't do anything crazy. And SURELY he wouldn't ask/trick me, the woman he loves, to do something crazy. He simply asks you to trust him, and I did.

Aaaaaaand then I was wrong. Very, very wrong.

He blew up the Chantry in that town. Confirmed death toll from game lore is 100, but people estimate it could be more. This was the second time I had to walk away from this game due to emotions, the first being when your mom dies.

The Chantry runs the Templars, and the Templars watch the mages. Things were coming to a head. It had been a silent war raging. The Knight-Commander of the Templars was seeing shadows, threatening to basically rip the tower apart to find Blood Mages where there weren't. The leader of the Mages supported the Circle but was doing little to lead the mages against the Templars, and if the mages snapped all hell would break loose. The Cleric in the chantry refused to take sides, even though her word would essentially sway the masses into siding with someone. But she had to stay neutral because she couldn't choose as it wasn't her place, and she agreed there was no right answer both sides had a point. He blew up the Chantry, and forced people to take sides. Change had to come, and he decided he had to take the matter into his own hands to do it. And whether or not it was him or Justice or both is ambiguous and dependant on the route taken.

And I fucking helped him.

The game at this point forces you to choose a side, and I chose to side with the Mages because I WAS one and also Meredith wanted to kill every mage there for what Anders did.

I was betrayed by this character I had loved for two games, who my Hawke fell in love with, who I trusted, etc. And THAT hurt worse than anything else ever. You then had the option to kill him, which was the third point I had to walk away and agonize over a decision. Whether or not Anders was right is a topic still viscerally debated in the Dragon Age community too and it gets ROUGH.

So yeah. That is why I’m not over it and why I love this game so much but also how fucking dare it do this to me.

#dragon age #da2 #dammit anders #dragon age 2 #i still love him tho

[ramblinganthropologist]

Writober 2020 Day 3 - Sculpture

Summary: The cast of Champion have arrived in Kirkwall for filming. Costars Briala and Malcolm decide to explore the city and find some less than impressive statues along the way. At least Malcolm knows how to take pictures.

(That Dragon Age Actor AU, DA2.)

---

There was something about on-location filming that made Briala's heart beat a little faster. Or maybe that was the jet lag?

It was overcast in Kirkwall – it often was. Something about the whole damn place being cursed fucked with the weather patterns. Of course the weather man would never say that, but it was something the locals believed. When Anders sent Elthina to hell, he forever angered the weather gods. Apparently, they were Chantry supporters.

Dumbasses.

“Well, here we are in Kirkwall. It's not raining, this is just the perpetual gloom of the city.”

Briala swirled her phone around to catch the view of the city from where she was standing. Once, they called where she was standing Hightown. It had been pretty much burned down after the mages had broken free of the Gallows, so eventually a lot of set design was going to have to happen. Right then, it just looked like a city.

And she looked like a one-armed punk rocker with a purple mohawk, so she couldn't exactly complain about accuracy.

“No wonder your Shadow Empress' lyricist.”

A voice from above boomed out quietly. Briala didn't aim her phone upward as she broke gaze. By now, she had learned better than to catch Malcolm on camera. He wasn't a big fan of social media to say the least, and she could respect that.

She stuck out her pierced tongue anyway though. “I save my best stuff for the band, you're getting my b grade shit.”

“Well, I'm honored.” Malcolm's Antivan accent probably made all the men weak in the knees, but it was doing nothing for Briala's Ferelden sensibilities. “So, we have time before we have to go where we need.”

They did. She had half expected him to wander off once they had gotten to Kirkwall, but for some reason the giant was sticking by his gremlin. They were definitely getting looks and more than a few whispers from the locals as they walked through the remains of Hightown, picking their way through the bleached rib bones of what had once been the city of chains. It was probably the height difference, given the city's history. Once you saw a pairing like that, there wasn't much else it could be.

Briala shrugged her shoulder as she stowed her phone in her pocket. “Want to check out the Hanged Man? I heard they rebuilt it.”

“Can you handle yourself in-” He stopped. Smart move – she had played in more than a few dive bars since she had started running with Shadow Empress. “No. We'll be there soon enough for shots with Varric anyway.”

Well, boo. Wasn't like she wanted a drink or anything anyway.

Briala fell into step behind Malcolm as they threaded their way through the streets. It certainly didn't feel like they were in Kirkwall, but it wasn't like she knew what it was supposed to be like anyway. Even with the gloom, it just seemed like a regular city. Maybe she had expected abominations or something, or the ghost of Meredith herself to wander the streets at night, still glowing from corrupted lyrium. Kirkwall was supposed to just be... something... and to actually be standing there was kind of a let down.

Ok, maybe she had built it up a little in her mind, but whatever.

“Blooming Rose then?”

“No.”

Briala snickered as she threaded her arm behind her head – the gesture would have been cooler with two, but she didn't exactly have a leg to stand on there. “I was kidding, Malcolm. But since you're shooting me down, how about you make a suggestion?”

“There.”

He had stopped moving, and was pointing a finger towards where the courtyard of the Gallows had once stood. Here, if history served her right, had been where the Hawkes had watched as the Chantry blew sky high on one of Kirkwall's darkest days. Now it was just a plaza, with benches and shit, but there was still the sculptures someone had erected there.

That's when she got the feeling in her gut.

“Yeah... let's go there.”

Together, Briala and Malcolm made their way to the plaza. Here, tourists were gathered with their cameras to take pictures of the statues erected by the city to tell the story of how the Mage Rebellion had gotten its start – you know, besides when Head Enchanter Fiona actually set the whole thing off. Excuse her for being a little sensitive towards elven accomplishments, thank you very much. Still, Anders was important too... though not as much as Fiona was in her mind. Again, see above.

The statues were cast in bronze and stood in battle poses. Each one had a plaque at the base of the podium explaining who they were and why they were so important. The one that represented Meredith was particularly fierce, though Briala half wish they had embedded some LEDs in. The red spotlight was nice, but it would've been better if the damn thing glowed like she had. Still, no doubt it was spooky during Halloween.

“Look, it's you.”

Malcolm was pointing at the second shortest figure in the garden. Briala walked over to it without thinking, stopping at the podium. Cast in bronze and with her sword raised was the likeness of Avery Hawke. Her mouth was open, showing off a pretty impressive fanged grin. That came from the reaver blood, or so the stories said. Her sword should have been glowing too, but apparently bronze wasn't the best medium for that.

They were close to the same height. Maybe the famous hero had a bit more height on her, but everything else was pretty close. If Avery hadn't been wearing her armor, they probably would have had similar builds as well. She had seen plenty of pictures of the woman, but standing next to a sculpture of her was something else altogether.

She brought her phone out without thinking and tossed it to Malcolm. “Can you get our picture?  You just have to hit the button in the middle when you've got it all lined up.”

He caught it – no surprises there – and she got into position. Avery's posture was a little hard, given she had two arms in it. Still, Briala did her best as she mimicked the shot and expression. No doubt with her bright purple mohawk and facial piercings she looked a little silly, but it didn't matter. She was there, that was enough.

Malcolm didn't take long to take the picture. Once he was done, she relaxed and hopped down. At least they hadn't attracted much attention – the tourists were still doing their thing, the locals were giving people the stink eye. All in all, it was a normal day in the former city of chains as people went about their day, no doubt preparing for when traffic was going to be fucked up during filming.

She felt like she should have apologized for that, but it wasn't exactly her fault. She hadn't been the one to decide on on-location filming anyway.

“Thanks, man.” Briala grinned as she inspected the image. “Nice. That one's going on Instagram for sure.”

Honestly, she wasn't sure if he even knew what it was. He was kind of a hipster that way, but she wasn't about to call him out on it. If he wanted to run without social media, that was his choice. Actors were weird like that.

Briala hummed to herself as she fell behind Malcolm – he had said something about a museum to visit. She was working on posting the picture to her social media after doing some mild editing. A few more clicks, and everything was up.

And then she felt the tug on her vest.

There was a tiny hand there, attached to a kid that couldn't have been more than 5. Their little baby horns hadn't even erupted yet – they were just little nubs waiting to become impressive one day if their parent was anything to go by. Either way, they were looking at her with big purple eyes that made her long dead antinatalist heart flutter a little.

“What's up, big guy?”

They let go of her vest and stepped back to a respectful distance. Maybe they were thinking of retreating behind mom's skirt. Said parent had a camera, so they were probably tourists too. What a lovely vacation – come see the city of chains where qunari got their shit rocked by Hawke.

Sounds like the shit her parents would've dragged her to, and that was why they didn't get holiday cards anymore.

“Why aren't you riding on Moses?”

The little one pointed a chubby finger towards Malcolm, his hood still drawn up as he tried to look inconspicuous. The math was floating above Briala's head as she started to put the pieces together. Even she knew she didn't look like Avery just yet, but apparently that didn't matter to the kid. See a tiny gremlin, see a fucking giant human, and presto. You got Hawke.

Well, shit.

Her brain whirred through possible responses as she grinned at them and ruffled their hair. “I gotta stretch my legs, you know. Can't have you outgrowing me before you're 6.”

“I'm 4!” They giggled as she messed with their hair.  “Is there metal in your tongue?”

Briala stuck her tongue out for emphasis. “That's why you don't bite down too hard on your fork when you're eating. The doctor said he could get it out, but I would've had to keep my mouth shut for a couple months and I couldn't even make a day.”

Their eyes went wide as if she had just told them the secret to everlasting life. Mom on the other hand held a chuckle behind her sleeve. Briala mentally sighed in relief at the reaction. For some reason, parents had strange reactions to her tongue piercing.

“Daddy's waiting for us, Adan. Let's leave the nice lady alone.”

The little qunari nodded their big head and turned back to her. “Bye-bye, Hawke!”

They were waving as their mother took their other hand and guided them away. Briala's hand went up without thinking as she also waved goodbye. Then they were gone, and her shoulders slumped in relief. Talk about on the spot acting. Wouldn't Shadow Empress be proud?

“Maybe you should switch to chopsticks.”

Malcolm's deep voice rumbled across the open space as she returned to the fact he was still here. His face was blank, but she knew that tone anywhere. Her smirk gave way to a loud laugh as she fell into step behind him once more.

He had jokes, alright. And that was better than a smart phone any day.

“What, I was working on my feet. Couldn't actually tell the kid I keep fucking beefing it.” The bruises on her ass were proof of that. “Come on, we got museums to look at. First one who finds the best dick pic wins!”

“You're on.”

And then they were off with time still to kill before their next meeting. Briala had a spring in her step as the likes already started to roll in from Instagram, but that was besides the point. Maybe the gloomy city wasn't so bad after all.

She would probably change her mind about that in a few weeks, but hey. Let her live in her delusion a bit longer.

#ramblinganthropologist's writing #That Dragon Age Actor AU

[trvelyans-archive]

“so.”

varric’s voice is as loud and booming as ever, as if he’s announcing something to a crowd of invisible spectators. if she watches him closely enough she can see him piecing together the sentences behind his eyes - he’s always spinning a story, always playing along with a narrative, always using the words to match. it’s how he hooks people in. 

that damned tethras man and his charming tethras tongue. absolutely irresistible.

“tell me if you’ve heard this one before,” he begins, a playful glint in his small eyes. “there’s this woman. and she’s the loudest, wildest person anyone will ever meet - the savior of the damned, a legend in the making. and she knows too many people for her own good, and too many people know her - a golden-haired mage, a brooding elf, a wide-eyed dalish, and a dashing pirate. and, at one point or another, they all fall for her...” his hands fall to his side from where they were suspended in the air, inviting her to bask in the web he was spinning, and his face softens in earnst. “and yet she picks the humble, lowly dwarven storyteller who follows her around and notes her every movement, her every word.”

“that’s hardly a story. the only thing fictional thing about that is you insinuating that you’re in any way humble,” hawke quips, arms crossed over her chest, shoulders squared. she can’t help but play along with his little game. she couldn’t stop herself if she tried. 

“i am humble,” varric corrects. “i’ve been forced to be humble, down in the dirt after my brother betrays me... and my knight in shining armor shows up, lifts my spirits. but i’m still hesitant to tell her how i feel because i don’t want to get hurt again...”

“oh, is that why?”

“’course it is.” his nod is astute. “mutual, unspoken pining between two best friends makes for the best stories. those are the ones that sell the most. people love a good tragedy.”

“well, what just happened could definitely be described as a tragedy,” she grumbles, the gleam in her eyes suddenly cast over by a darkened expression. not even their game can distract her from the purpose of their excursion out to the coast; not even varric’s winning smile can make her forget the heavy pack on her shoulders, weighed down with all the supplies she needs to survive away from the city. “just look at the damn state i left kirkwall in.”

varric makes a move to respond - his opens his mouth, takes a step closer to her, reaches to grab her hand. and then he stops. mind going blank, shoulders sagged in defeat, he doesn’t know what to say. for the first time ever - for the first time with hawke - he doesn’t know what to say.

he’s varric. he’s always supposed to be nearby with a joke and an ambivalent shrug of his shoulders. but nothing feels like it’d fill the silence.

so he laughs - an uneasy, choked out thing, caught in his throat, cracking in the middle like a tree branch underfoot, and says with as much muster as he can manage, “well, that... wasn’t, uh, entirely your fault, you know, hawke.”

“it was.” her words are harsh and clipped and bitter. “it was, because i’m the one paying the price for it. leaving everything behind...”

she meets his gaze and her heart breaks. “leaving you behind.” 

“hawke...”

“i know we’ve never said it, but -”

“and we don’t have to,” varric interrupts, closing the distance between them and grabbing her hands in his as he directs his eyes upwards. “you’re gonna come back, hawke. ten months or ten years, you’re going to come back. and when you do, i’ll be here, waiting...”

“pining?” she suggests, sniffling and bringing her forearm up to her nose to wipe it. the tears came quickly - they don’t have enough time left for them to come slowly.

“yeah, sure, pining,” he replies, laughing as he brings a calloused thumb up to smudge a tear against her cheek, not bothering to pay attention to the ones on his own. “if that’s what you want, then yeah. pining. pining after the most beautiful, most wild woman that thedas has ever seen.”

“you promise?”

“i promise, hawke.” his voice lacks volume, lacks conviction - there’s no lies to spin, no plot twist to devise. he’s here, with hawke, open and honest and aching for her, and there’s nothing false or fictional about it. “i’ll never stop waiting for you. no matter what.”

she crumples to her knees, gathering his small frame up in her arms. “i love you,” she whispers into his ear. one of his legs is caught between hers, and her hands never stay one place too long, roaming across the plane of his back - their embrace is desperate and messy and twitchy, completely with hoarse laughter and quiet sobs and thick tears staining dusty fabric. no one likes desperate and messy, varric thinks, but he needs it. in this moment, it’s the only thing he needs. the only thing he wants. ugly. because nothing real is ever very pretty.

“i -” he chokes out a sob, catches her hair between his teeth as he opens and closes his mouth in his best attempt to reply without crying. “i l-love you, too, hawke. shit.”

when she draws away, she presses a kiss to his lips. it is bright and pure and intoxicating, and for one moment he forgets everything in the world besides her lips on his - he forgets anders, and aveline, and grand enchanter elthina and knight commander meredith and all of the shit that went wrong in kirkwall. all he thinks about - all he can think about - is the wet, soft sound hawke’s mouth makes as her lips retreat from his and then, before either one of them can say anything else, come in for another dose. 

his mind is reeling, and his thoughts are spinning. he can’t and he’ll never be able to find the words to describe how hawke feels against his body, beneath his hands. how much he’ll miss her.

when finally their kiss ends, they linger in the moment for as long as they can, eyes half-closed in a refusal to admit that a world exists outside of the two of them. then she grabs one of his hands in hers and presses a red strip of cloth into his open, empty palm and curves his fingers around it.

“take this,” she insists. “wear it everyday. in your hair, on your finger, around your neck, whatever. a token from me for my knight in shining armor.” 

varric squeezes his eyes shut. it’s too soon. it’s ending too soon. “hawke...”

“i love you,” she repeats. it sounds natural, easy, like she’s said it thousands of times before even though she hasn’t. if only she did. if only she had the chance to. “i love you,” she says again, her voice a whimper.

when he opens his eyes, she’s gone.

he takes a moment to recuperate. blinks the tears from his orange eyelashes, sucks the rest of his snot up his nostrils and swallows it. everything is ugly, and awful, and vile, and he bites down on the inside of his cheek to keep from crying again, tying the red ribbon around his right wrist as tight as he can with one hand. when he’s looped it around enough for it to hold, he takes the end of it between his teeth to secure it. but suddenly it’s close enough to his nose that a familiar scent floods his senses, and he realizes - it’s the piece of fabric that hawke uses to keep her hair out of her face.

it’s what she used to use. 

varric sighs. he bends over to grab his own pack, swings it up on his shoulders, and starts towards the speck in the distance that is what remains of kirkwall.

it’s when he gets back to the hanged man and sits down in front of his blank pages that he realizes this isn’t a story for anyone else to read. no one will want to read it. people don’t like happy endings, and this story is going to have one. so he puts his ink and quill away and for the first time, picks up the unused papers on his desk and rips them to shreds.

---  

light streams through the gap in the hallway outside the war room. hawke’s back is pressed against the wall, her sword tall and present and threatening even though it’s wedged in between her and the stone, and varric realizes she looks like a hero, like she could be on the cover of a book. but her head is tilted towards varric, a playful, loving smile on her lips, and that would draw in no one else like it draws in varric.

“so... they don’t know about... us?” she asks. her gaze flickers towards the door as she shifts uneasily, looking all too well like she’s trying to keep a dirty, shameful secret, and varric almost laughs.

but he assuages her fears instead, fears that are well-earned. “nah,” he responds with a wave of his right hand. “figured that’d be a story best kept between us. i don’t think anyone else would really enjoy it.”

“well... i think that you’re right.” 

she grins at him. though her hair is different, her skin is more tanned, her muscles are bulkier beneath her armor and her shoulders are more broad, she has the same grin she’s always had, the same one that makes him weak in the knees. he stutters for a moment, taken off-guard by her, and she takes the opportunity to snag his hand and start off down the hallway, away from the yelling between the advisers inside the war room.

“i don’t think i remember much of the last chapter,” she tells him over her shoulder, arching her eyebrow suggestively. “you might have to remind me.”

by the time they reach the great hall, she’s pulling him along only by the end of the red ribbon adorning his wrist. there’s still a long walk back to his quarters - their quarters, since the moment she arrived in skyhold this morning - and he can barely wait to touch her again and to kiss her again, to re-familiarize himself with her lips. but he’ll wait. this is something he’ll want to keep private.

“good thing i have a great memory,” he replies, saying and doing no more until she kicks open the door to his room and closes it securely behind them.

---

varric has barely passed through the veil when the vomit is already spewing from his mouth. everything is fucking backwards and upside down - his vision is blurry, his head is heavy, and his limbs ache from exertion worse than they’ve ever ached before. he’s just finished retching as the inquisitor stumbles through the tear in the fade. stroud comes out hot on their heels, his brow line with sweat, sword glinting in the pale desert moonlight.

varric blinks rapidly to clear his vision - once, twice, then three times, then four. and he stops, eventually, finally, chest still heaving as he takes a step closer to the inquisitor.

“where’s hawke?” he asks. 

the inquisitor gives him no more of an answer than a shake of their head, and varric falls to his knees, crossbow clanging to the ground and sounding all too well like the cover of a book slamming shut.

#:) #i spent three hours on his and i SWEAR TO GOD.... if this gets 1 note... im gonna lose it #anyway i dont even have a hawke that romanced varric but uh... take this #i was inspired xoxoxo #hawke x varric #hawke/varric #my writing #dragon age 2 #femhawke #female hawke x varric #long post #VERY LONG POST... but i know no one will read it if it's under a read more so :) #gotta use the tactics u know folks #anyway

[patricianandclerk]

how do you feel about anders?

I love him!

He makes me very emotional, because when we meet him in Awakening he’s this guy with so much weight on his feathered shoulders, like... He makes his jokes and he tries to be free and easy, but he’s so exhausted all the time and he just wants so desperately to just be free and just left alone, and there’s no way. There’s nowhere he can run to, there’s nowhere he can just quietly help people and just live ethically and happy, and it destroys him. This is a man truly cursed by his ideals, because he cannot let himself live whilst being... complacent.

The thing about Anders, at the end of the day, is that his downfall, his fatal flaw, the worst thing about him, is not selfishness or a desire for power or a rebellious streak or anything like that.

It’s his empathy.

He feels so DEEPLY, so ENTIRELY for others, even for spirits, even for templars and Grey Wardens, in the beginning. He knows what it’s like to be lonely and in pain, he cares so much about other people, he just wants to be free, like he wants everyone to be free. He feels so desperately for everyone, and what does he get for it? What does he get?

And then comes the trouble with spirits.

We know what happens with spirits connected to humans - they’re too pure for this, are too easily corrupted by even the smallest emotions, and that’s exactly what happens, and then, like... Those years for Anders are difficult ones, I think. Like, he’s unstable as fuck, and we know why - because his body, his mind, isn’t entirely his anymore, but there’s no defined separation between him and Justice, not really. They’re moulded into one being, but it’s so difficult, just because like, his every emotion is amplified to the extreme.

And you can see that he’s struggling? Like it’s so difficult because he has those emotions in The Extreme, everything hugely exaggerated, and Anders has always been a man who thinks in absolutes, but Justice only makes that moreso.

I think Anders is a terrorist and a mass murderer, at best. 

I don’t think that his act at the Chantry was in any way defensible - I see people go, well, the Chantry people aren’t innocent, but at the end of the day, like... It’s not just Mother Elthina in there, however you feel about her. It’s Brothers and Sisters who are just trying their best, who joined the Chantry because the Chant of Light preaches to help the less fortunate, who may well believe fucked up things about mages and Templars, but are ultimately just people? Little people who don’t know they’re wrong, and don’t control that much that’s bigger than themselves?

But with all that said, like...

Christ, I also can’t understand people who act like Anders is evil, somehow, because like. This is a guy who’s already an extreme feeler of feelings, possessed by a fucking spirit after literal years of trying desperately to escape incarceration so he can return to his MOTHER--

And who acted out of desperation, absolutely overcome with the feeling of injustice for the mages. Was he wrong to blow up the Chantry? Obviously, duh. But was it a cold thing? Was it something that he planned out just to kill innocent people? Did he, in his extremely unwell state made worse by his possession, genuinely believe it would help others?

You know me. I empathise with literally any character, even the ones who are genuinely evil and awful, but like. To me, Anders isn’t one of those. I think he’s a very tragic figure, but I think he was created by the society he came from, you know. 

And for all this, I actually tend to avoid him in-game, because I just find him exhausting, especially because I think that like... the more exhausted he gets, the more influenced by Justice he is, the more his empathy is skewed. He becomes too focused, his understanding of the world is too blinkered. Yeah. God.

#anders #Anomymous #as defined by dictionary #answered

[hollowboobtheory]

Do you think people would have hated Anders less if he had burned the Chantry instead of blowing it up? Or if he had just stabbed Elthina in front of everyone? Because like, I love him with every ounce of my heart and soul and I'm 100% in camp "Anders was right", but even I was absolutely horrified during and after that cutscene when I first played. Because it was made to be shocking and horrifying. I feel like some people just never moved past that initial emotional reaction.

hope you’re ready for some stream of consciousness bullshit let’s fuckin go

i mean there’s a good post going around about how buildings exploding has become a cultural shorthand for terrorism. and i think that’s true. it’s a cheap narrative trick that relies on getting a knee-jerk reaction. only loosely related but i think fascinating: lindsay ellis has a video about how disaster movies changed after 9/11 and the alien invasion genre stems from imperialist sentiments. 

and oh my god the fact that he used a tevinter bomb recipe is bioware trying to push the both sides “this is what mages do with freedom see?” narrative. what the shit. 

anyway yep bioware was exploiting 9/11 to get a knee-jerk reaction from the audience. just look at the visuals of the explosion. 

like fuck dude there sure are two pillars there. 

anyway yeah if you watch the video, the destruction of landmarks didn’t fly after 9/11. it’s hard to say how this translates into fantasy worlds blowing up imaginary landmarks. but again, the sheer knee-jerk effect is basically etched into the cultural psyche. 

but then again, lindsay says in the video it would be more effective to never show the aliens. which makes sense because if you want to push the idea of a whole group being ~eeeeeevilllllllllllll~ you really can’t show too many individuals within that group or else you risk shattering the hivemind illusion. 

which leads me to how in using this cultural shorthand, bioware fucked up in the biggest way possible: having you spend six years watching anders personally heal refugees and orphans and feeding stray kittens and explaining his own ideology directly to the player before the chantry boom. like that last one, i think is the biggest fuckup. like dude. rule number 1 to demonizing someone: you don’t give them the chance to tell their side of the story. they should have had anders be a side character as maybe a foil to cullen. they should not let you fall in love with him. 

ugh the incompetence..... unparalleled

to get back to your point, anon, yeah probably. 

really goes to show how deeply this is ingrained into the cultural consciousness how viciously and passionately people hate anders, despite bioware fucking up the narrative sleight of hand as badly as humanly fucking possible. 

idk, just some absurd 8 suns i thot were inch resting. 

#dragon age 2 #anders was right #chantry critical #dragon age meta #kiosk rambles #ask #anonymous #Anonymous

[ladylike-foxes]

How about a prompt out of your comfort zone? Sebhawke, angst or fluff or what have you?

You’ve already read this, Jo. It’s weird writing my Hawke, so forgive me @dadrunkwriting 😅

Just some background on Hawke: She’s frequently referred to as ‘Mab’; her name is Marian Mabel, since I love both of those names too much to choose. She romanced Fenris. She’s also got a serious drinking problem. Okay, here goes!

"Join me in the Chantry! Pledge yourself to the Maker. We can serve Him together, with a chaste marriage in his eyes—"

"You've got to be fucking kidding me, Sebastian," Marian shirked away from him, talking a long step back.

         She was furious, confused rage bubbling in her veins. Dragging a sweaty palm over her face, she pushed her hair back, glaring at him furiously. Sebastian was staring at her with crimson shame painted across his cheeks.

"A chaste marriage? Pledging myself to the Chantry? Who are you talking to," Flinging her hands up angrily and pacing a circle, "Do you know me at all, Sebastian?"

         She was being cruel, she knew: he didn't deserve this. It had certainly been a misplaced offer, thoughtlessly made in a moment of nervousness. He couldn't possibly feel anything half so strongly for her as to mean it. Still, she couldn't seem to help herself. She raged on.

"A chaste marriage?!" She was shaking his shoulders now, not realizing that she had barely touched him in years.

"Do you understand that you're a Prince? That without a child, your line ends?" His brows rose in surprise, and Marian released him, turning crimson, "And anyway, that's not the point—"

"Hawke," Sebastian tried to touch her shoulder, but she pulled sharply out of his reach.

"No. No!" She pinned him with a look, shaking her head with warning, "UGH! DAMN IT!"

         Slamming her fist on the table, she shoved his stack of books off onto the floor before storming off. She refused to even meet Elthina's gaze on her way out, stomping furiously to where Varric waited for her by the doors.

"Hawke," He followed her outside, grabbing her wrist when she didn't reply, "Mab! Hey, come on. What's wrong?"

"Fuckin' Sebastian—he just—I can't," She was still flinging her hands around, clearly unsure what to do with herself.

"Hey, hey. How about a drink, and you can tell me about it."

"Yeah, okay," Marian took a deep breath before nodding, her usual smile creeping back in, "But I'm gonna need more than one, and you're paying."

         Varric laughed and slapped her back, but her smile wavered slightly. She was ashamed by her behavior, though what had Vael been thinking? They weren't kids anymore, and he was acting like a damn fool with all his Chantry bullshit. Marriage? To her? She kisses him a few times in a dark alley and he proposes marriage? No. No, that was on him. He knew where her heart lie, and he hadn't been thinking clearly when he asked her.

          She should have been flattered, musing as they ambled off toward The HangedMan. He was a Prince... and her friend. Why was she so angry, then? How could she explain it in any way that made sense? She couldn't. She didn't know how to detangle the emotions into words that could help him see. And there was a lot to untangle. Varric went up to the bar while she found a table in a dark corner. Dropping wearily into a chair, she cradled her face in her hands, steeling herself for a long and embarrassing talk with her best friend.

"Maker, help me...."

         Several hours later, Mab was nearly on the floor, tongue thick and slurring. Varric had fetched some water, attempting to sober her back up before trying to walk her home. She was a mess, hair in her eyes as her cheek pressed against the wood, fingertips hooked over the table edges.

"He's gonna think Iwaz mad aboutha sex," Groaned unattractively through her nose like a Snuffleur.

"Probably," Varric tucked her hair back behind her ears, "Here. Drink water."

"Thanks'lot," Sarcastic, lifting a hand to push the water away, "No more water."

"Yes more water," Varric recognized an approaching figure, "But you weren't mad about the chastity thing?"

"Immean, off course," Snorting a chuckle into the table, too dizzy to realize their guest, "But no' really. Iss'more than that, y'know?"

"Not really, no," She didn't seem to recognize the voice that chimed in.

"Seb's my frien'. I've known'im forever!" She slowly tried to lift her head, "Iss no' like that withuss, an' what if I hurt'is feelin's?"

         She finally caught sight of Sebastian, kicked back in the opposite chair, arms crossed over his chest.

"Hiya, hanssome," She dropped her head again, forehead bouncing on the table, "Sscrew you, Varric."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Varric patted her shoulder as he stood up, "I'll give you two a minute. I'm gonna go pay the tab."

         Hawke could feel the heat of her face radiating back off the table, dread pooling in a pregnant pause between them. She finally looked back up, balancing her head on her chin. Seb was smiling at her, but it lacked the bitterness she expected. It was almost tender, the way he was looking at her. She didn't like tender: it felt like pity.

"So."

"Ssooo."

"Shouldn't I be the one drowning my sorrow? I'm the one that got rejected," Teasing, he leaned forward onto his elbows.

"I'm not drownin' anything, I'm jus'a lush."

"You're certainly something, Mab. A few somethings, actually."

"Areya mad at me?" She shot him a sheepish glance, "I'd be mad at me."

"Well, I wish you hadn't thrown my paperwork on the floor," Humming fondly, he twirled a strand of her hair around a finger, "But no, I'm not mad at you, lass. You made a lot of good points."

         She sighed in relief. Grabbing his hand, she squeezed it gently, pulling her hair as she did.

"Oww," She sighed again, "Thanks, Seb."

"Sure enough, Mab," He chuckled softly, placing a chaste kiss to her temple.

         They were silent for a long moment. She heard Varric return, but he didn't speak. Sebastian began to scoop her up, preparing no doubt to carry her lanky ass home. An abrupt thought pulled a low, wicked giggle from her belly.

"What's so funny, Hawke?" She snickered into Sebastian's shoulder, and Varric barked a laugh, knowing immediately what she was thinking.

"Bethy's gonna be sooo jealousss!"

#dadwc #dwc #dadrunkwriting #joufancyhuh #individual prompt #filled prompts #Sebastian Vael #hawke fanfic #dragon age fanfic #SebHawke #Marian is like UH NO #poorly written drunken MC #FenHawke #Sorry Seb she’s meant for another #awkward friend proposals #my writing #my OCs #Marian Mabel Hawke #Filled Prompts: Marian Mabel Hawke #Broken Wing verse #answered asks