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thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 3 years

Note

How long would it take the volturi to solve the Kira case?

Fascinating question, anon, I like it. So much so you get answered much earlier than you normally would be.

Shinigami and the World of Twilight

In Twilight there are few supernatural creatures that remain in our world. There's vampires, children of the moon, and the shapeshifter. However, these need not be the only supernatural creatures.

There have likely been mass extinctions (seen in Children of the Moon) and there may be more creatures that are so uncommon that we just don't see any hint of them.

Death Note's Shinigami easily fall into this category.

They live in another dimension, and in the human world (which they rarely visit in person), they're invisible to the eye save for those who have touched their death note. Their methods of killing are so unobtrusive, (heart attacks by default or whatever method they please), that they're unlikely to be noticed unless someone (i.e. Light) is trying to make a point. And in the grand scheme of things, Shinigami also kill relatively infrequently, meaning that any odd death gets passed off as that: an odd death. Also being forbidden to kill for the sake of a human being means that the deaths tend to be a) random b) whatever amuses them the most. That'd be hard to pick a pattern up of.

Shinigami exist in such a manner that I doubt even the Volturi are aware of them.

Some Ground Rules For the Post

I don't see why vampires would have an innate ability to see Shinigami that humans lack. As a result, the Volturi are in the same boat everyone else is, they can't see a Shinigami unless they touch that Shinigami's notebook.

Also, per the manga, the Kira case takes place from 2003-2010, meaning that as Twilight is happening (or before if Aro and the gang somehow solve this faster than L would), the world is mired in the Kira case.

Bella would certainly have been talking about it in Twilight. As would Edward, as he once had his Kira foray as well if on a much smaller scale and with a lot more junkies.

For the sake of my nitpicky need to have everything line up, we're going to push Death Note back a few years, to the beginning of Twilight.

Also, we're taking out L. If L's there, Aro can rely on him doing most of the work for him and only show up at the end to either murder or turn Light once L's narrowed down exactly who it is. That's not really fair per the ask, we have to leave the Volturi on their own.

With that, let's start.

Kira Makes His Appearance

Light's appearance was by no means subtle, he wanted to be noticed immediately, but he also didn't want to be noticed as a human being.

He made no televised announcements, left no messages, sent in no letters saying, "I am God, tremble before me". Instead, he let his silence speak.

He killed via heart attacks those he considered having broken the law to some heinous degree and then he sat back and watch. The public dubbed him Kira first and he only became a confirmed presence, something more real than a specter and a human who could be caught and brought to justice, when he murdered Lind L. Taylor in a public spectacle.

But this is a world without L, which means no Lind L. Taylor, instead we have Volturi and company in Volterra, utterly unconcerned with the human world.

Of course, they immediately notice once an undeniable pattern becomes clear. Human criminals are dying en masse of heart attacks, someone is making a message. The question is, to what end?

Aro wouldn't immediately think this is a human. This kind of power, this kind of gift, to be able to seemingly kill any person in the world at any time no matter the distance, is something too strong for a human. It would be unheard of to have this much power as a human.

Which means Aro believes he's looking for a vampire breaking the law.

The trouble is, it's only humans. The newborn wars are raging as always, every major coven he's ever heard of remains untouched, and there's been no noticeable uptick of deaths among the vampire population.

The only difference to them is that more of them are dangerously close to breaking the law, as crime rates are now plummeting as criminals live in terror of a spiteful god who might strike them down at any moment. This makes murders performed by vampires, in certain areas, far more noticeable.

(As Light is probably killing off known gang leaders, drug lords, etc. left and right, it's probably pandemonium in certain cities/countries. So vampires are probably alright in these places as I'm sure there's a lot of murder going on as survivors try to fill the power vacuum.)

Still, the Volturi have to put their heads together and try to think why any vampire would do this? To what end would they murder all these humans, in such a noticeable manner, and not even to eat their victims?

Aro concludes he's looking for a very young vampire, likely newborn, someone who still thinks of himself as very human and beholden to human society and who isn't aware of Volterra or else does not consider them a threat.

The Volturi Investigators

I think Aro's going to take the lead on this one. There's his gift, obviously, but he'd by far have the most interest.

Caius would be upset by the nerve of Kira, but he has no patience to track him down either when it becomes exceedingly obvious that this is going to be tricky. That, and it just doesn't seem like his thing to me. He's going to mostly sit this one out.

As for Marcus, he's not up to it.

Which makes Aro our lead detective.

The Investigation

Like L, the first thing they do is try to pinpoint the first deaths. There was the immediate deluge, of course, but that screams of confidence in this assassination gift.

Kira likely needed practice to perfect his gift or even realize he had it at all. There's going to be a first victim and it will probably be messy.

Given enough investigation, this probably leads Aro to Japan, where a man taking children hostage suddenly dies in the middle of the hostage situation when televised on national TV (though not outside of Japan). Given that Kira's a vampire, he could have moved from where he started quite easily, but Aro's willing to bet he's still somewhere in Japan.

What Aro does know is that Kira's keeping close to human society. Kira will be reading human papers, watching human television constantly, and appears to be very well-informed concerning his future victims. Both locally as well as internationally. Kira is likely still in a human settlement.

So, the first thing Aro does is look for an unusual number of casualties in any city or town in Japan. Kira will probably be in the newborn phase, may truly be only a few months old, and given his actions has probably been abandoned by his sire. Even if he has unusually high control, he's got to eat sometime, and thanks to his own actions the murder rate in major cities is way down.

Except... there's no uptick.

Crime, murder, in Japan is universally on a downwards trend. Major cities like Tokyo and small rural villages it's all the same, there's nothing noticeable.

Kira either isn't in Japan or... he's not eating.

Aro wonders if, perhaps this assassination gift of his, somehow feeds Kira. He is, after all, stealing life. He does it via heart attacks but maybe, somehow, the very act of stealing life is all Kira needs. Perhaps he doesn't have to drink blood due to this.

This blows Aro's mind for a few days but eventually he decides that, no, he's never heard of this. True, he's never heard of this gift either, but all vampires drink blood. Even Carlisle, who drinks animal blood, still drinks blood and suffers great negative effects for his avoidance of a natural diet.

Kira the vampire must still eat.

Which means, in the absence of any other explanation... Kira's not a vampire. Kira is likely a very gifted human.

Aro's mind is blown again because Holy Fuck, what a gift. Kira has blown Jane and Alec, who were only immediately noticeable in their own village, completely out of the water.

Except, the trouble is, neither Aro nor anyone else in the Volturi is a detective. Aro knows enough about human society to pay his taxes, to hire secretaries, and keep on the up and up, but he doesn't actually solve human crimes.

What he's looked for for thousands of years are vampires who break the law: and they have certain patterns, motivations, etc. that are more or less easy to spot. More, the entire point of his law is that, if Aro notices then it means you broke it. There are those that can and do fly under his radar.

How is he supposed to find a gifted human who can kill anyone in the world any time he pleases? From a brief perusal of Japanese news, there's no one immediately obvious as gifted or strange by local papers.

From earlier killings, Aro notes that Kira doesn't seem to kill between 8 in the morning to 4 pm, which might make him a student but also could mean he's working those hours.

And even if he is a student? How in the world is Aro supposed to touch the hand of every student in the entire country of Japan? Aro, who makes it a point not to navigate the human world.

Aro Calls in the Expert

When you want to hang out with the humans, there's only one vampire to call: Carlisle Cullen. As we're setting this in early Twilight, neither Eclipse nor Breaking Dawn have happened. To the Cullens, and Carlisle, Aro is simply a wise king and Carlisle's old friend.

And I'm sure Carlisle has been watching the Kira case very closely and is very disturbed by the entire thing. Kira's methods are very much not Carlisle's m.o.

Aro gives Carlisle what he knows: Kira's probably a gifted human, probably somewhere in Japan, probably in school, and has access to an extensive amount of human media.

That's it.

That's all Aro's got.

As for the police at large, without L, they haven't even narrowed it down to Japan yet.

Carlisle points out that, as much as he hangs out with humans, he doesn't think he could find the needle in the haystack either. However, he definitely wants to help in any way he can.

However, they do have something. Aro can't touch the hand of everyone in Japan, however, Edward can unobtrusively listen to a much larger segment of the population.

(Alice is off the table as she's best able to see the future of those close to her. Without knowing who Kira even is, let alone being close to him, she has no idea what he's going to even do next. She's likely very frustrated by this.)

Surely, whoever Kira is, he or she will be contemplating their victims more often than not. It's a long shot, but Edward might be able to find that needle in a haystack.

How's Edward Feel About That?

Edward's extremely conflicted. On the one hand, he doesn't want to disappoint Carlisle, and this is the first time Carlisle has ever asked him for a favor of this magnitude. And, in theory, Carlisle is right, all creatures are worthy of life.

On the other hand, Edward's on Team Kira. He thinks these rapist, murderer, pigs all deserve to die and is rooting for Kira to put the fear of God into them. Emphasizing this is when Bella was nearly raped in Port Angeles, but her would be rapist suddenly remembered himself and vomited in terror at the idea that he might be next should he get caught raping her. (As it is, Edward catches him, and a few weeks later he dies of a heart attack in prison. Edward pops the champagne).

More, if Edward goes to Japan, it means he has to leave Bella. Bella has proven she cannot survive without his personal protection. More, he's not sure he can survive without her presence. He can hardly contemplate the idea of leaving Bella, though he ultimately must, but to do so soon? He though he'd have a few more years, likely until they graduate, but now he and the family would have to move all the way to Japan in a matter of days.

Not to mention this would be letting Aro know that Edward's... not technically breaking the law but not not breaking the law either. Bella clearly suspects he's not human, she just doesn't have the right word.

And then to give Kira up to the Volturi? To have his activities stopped, to be turned and placed into the guard, or else murdered? Edward feels like he'd be selling out the brother he never knew.

But also Carlisle and imagining Carlisle's sad, disappointed, face.

Edward says yes but he really wants to say no.

He sneaks into Bella's room in the middle of the night, and for the first time, makes her aware of his presence. He tells her that regretfully he must leave her, he's off to do a man's work and catch Kira, and that they will never see each other again.

Then to Edward's horror and disappointment, Bella's completely on board for Edward catching Kira and thinks it's the noblest thing he could do. Charlie, being a chief of police, utterly despises Kira and Bella carries forward this sentiment. People deserve the due process of law, not being murdered off by some jackass conning people into believing he's a god.

Bella wishes him luck and tells him to return as soon as he can.

Edward just numbly says he won't be returning. This really is it. Goodbye forever.

Bella's utterly broken (though not nearly as much as canon as Edward didn't dump her for being boring).

Edward in Japan

Well, turns out, Edward's not actually that useful. There's a few problems.

First, there are a lot of people out there claiming to be Kira, or even convincing themselves that they're Kira. They do this to brag, to feel special, for any number of reasons.

None of them are Kira.

Second, Edward can only go out on cloudy days or at night, this severely limits when he can wander the streets and the people he'll run into. More, even if he starts with Tokyo, Tokyo's a big place. That's a lot of wandering to do.

Third, say that Edward does come across Light Yagami. Edward immediately dismisses him as being utterly insane. See, Light Yagami is talking to his imaginary friend, Ryuk, bickering about which apples they should buy from the store. Edward sees the giant clown demon that Light believes only he can see and goes, "Ah, another lunatic, cheerio."

Edward does not find Kira.

The Investigation Continues

Aro likely keeps Edward at it for months. It doesn't matter how long it takes, they're going to track down Kira and they're going to find him. It might take years, but dammit, they'll find him. Edward despairs that he will ever be able to go back to normal life.

Luckily for the gang, Bella saves their bacon.

Bella, ruminating on Edward's mission and on Kira, starts doing her own internet investigation. She doesn't get very far, but she does have those prophetic dreams to help her out.

Bella has a seriously weird dream about the moon, night gods, Kira, demons that look like giant crows, notebooks, and Light Yagami's face. Somehow, just as in canon with vampires, Bella's able to somehow put this together.

She calls up Edward (as they parted on more amiable terms, and so quickly, Edward did not yet disconnect his number) and tells him that Kira's name is Light Yagami, he's attending the University of Tokyo as the top student, and his murder weapon is an evil notebook.

How does she know this?

She looked it up on the internet.

Well, Edward isn't sure how to take that, but he also has nothing to lose. They find Light Yagami, Aro shakes his hand, and holy shit, Bella Swan was right. (Aro now decrees that she will be turned, much to Edward's horror and insistence that she has no idea he's a vampire, and has plans to recruit her for his guard).

What Are We Going to Do About Light?

Well, on the one hand, Aro discovered a new species today that he can do nothing about. Luckily, they seem to have their own laws that have more or less the same result as the Volturi laws: don't get noticed.

On the other hand, he's disappointed that this all-powerful gift was not a gift at all.

On the other other hand, Light does not seem to be an ordinary human. He's... lucky, for lack of a better term. No, it's more that he doesn't need luck, he somehow has such an awareness of everything around him that he assimilates it perfectly into his own plans. As if he can manipulate the very universe to his favor.

That's intriguing and useful, and in any other situation, Aro would jump on taking that chance and at least seeing what happens.

So the question becomes, does Aro turn Light or not? On the one hand, that's a useful gift, on the other hand, this kid's a loose cannon and a lunatic.

This Kira thing cannot continue, and Light, even as a vampire, would likely insist on continuing it somehow.

Luckily, there's a solution to this.

Aro burns the notebook, much to Ryuk's protesting despair. Light loses his memories of Ryuk, the notebook, and having been Kira. Before Light even knows what's happening, Aro turns him.

Three days later, Light wakes up a very confused vampire, gets the Volturi pitch with Chelsea there to help loosen bonds, and accepts a position in the guard to, oddly enough, stop those like Kira.

Aro's confused, but hey, they'll see how this Light thing works out. Aro also likely tells himself that he will watch for Ryuk trying to drop Light another notebook like a hawk.

The Kira case is never solved for humans: Kira just disappears one day as if he never existed. As for Light, I imagine he plots the destruction of the newborn armies, and Caius watches in utter fascination as this kid ruthlessly exterminates them all.

Bella is shortly turned into a vampire, much to Edward's despair, and due to the giant mess of this is also likely recruited to Volterra.

How Long Does This Take?

Given the need for the Volturi to first investigate, then Edward, I give them at least a year. Maybe a year and a half.

And really, it's Bella who saves their bacon.

#twilight #death note #twilight meta #death note meta #twilight headcanon #death note headcanon #light yagami #ryuk #carlisle cullen #edward cullen #anti edward cullen #aro #caius #the volturi #bella swan #meta #headcanon #opinion

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therealvinelle · 3 years

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Answering the ask about Carlisle killing humans: take two

In this post, @effervescent-influenza asked me what it would take for Carlisle to intentionally kill a human. Sadly for effervescent-influenza, the thought of Carlisle killing people was apparently so inconceivable to my brain that it said “Error. Did you mean: accidentally kills a human?” and so I wrote them a post about Carlisle losing patients as part of his work as a doctor instead. [Insert the meme about Michael asking for a file but getting a cactus from The Good Place here.]

Anyway, here’s me trying to give effervescent-influenza an actual answer and not just another cactus.

What could motivate Carlisle to kill a human?

He was willing to kill newborns in Eclipse. This was in self-defense and to defend others, and he had no other means to stop them. These were unique conditions that had not arisen before in his near four-hundred-years long life.

He’ll never need to defend himself from humans. If he needs to keep a human from hurting other humans, then he will have an array of options, as it is we see him do this in canon with Bella’s would-be rapists. They’re drugged and taken to a police station, where the police have outstanding arrest warrents on them. (Question I’ll return to below: What would he have done if those would-be rapists weren’t known to the police? If they would go back to raping and murdering as soon as they woke up?)

Beyond that, looking for other motives...

Carlisle isn’t going to kill a human for his own benefit, as there would be none. He’s not willing to kill them for their blood, he would not benefit materially, and there’s nothing humans could do to him to provoke him. A patient could become obsessed with him and become his Misery-style terrifying stalker, or a capricious colleague could set out to make him miserable at work, and he’d probably fail but if he didn’t, if a human succeeded in being such a nuisance that it bothered Carlisle, then Carlisle can just move. Always, if a human becomes a problem for him, he can just pack up his things and move. He has a low threshold for doing this.

Carlisle’s not going to kill any humans for his own sake.

But, we do in canon see that he allowed Rosalie to kill her rapists and that he took it for granted that something had to be done about Bella’s would-be rapists.

To take Rosalie and her rapists first, Edward (who is not the best source, but I’ll write a separate post on that. Basically, read the below closely - notice how he inserts himself into this.) explains how it went down:

“In the first year of Rosalie’s second life, before she had disappeared on her several missions of revenge, her thoughts had given her away clearly and thoroughly. I knew what she was planning, and I’d informed Carlisle. The first time, he counseled her gently, urging her to let go of her past life, certain that if she did she would forget, and then her pain could lessen. Revenge could not bring back anything she had lost. But when his guidance met only the implacability of her fury, he gave her advice on how best to be discreet about her forays. Neither of us could argue that she didn’t deserve vengeance. And we both couldn’t help but believe that the world would be a better place without the rapists and murderers who had ended her life.” (Midnight Sun, chapter 18)

For the record, I disagree with the notion that Carlisle would wish Charles Evenson (Esme’s abusive first husband) harm, or harbor revenge fantasies, and this is why. Killing Charles wouldn’t take away Esme’s trauma, it wouldn’t undo any of what happened to her, and it wouldn’t help her heal. It would be for Carlisle’s own benefit, for him to feel better, at the cost of a human life.

More, this would make Carlisle judge and jury of which humans get to live or die. In his life as a doctor, Carlisle has seen countless of cruel men who abused their families. Most of them still have their wives and children living with them, with no rescue in sight. If Carlisle were to kill Evenson, what justification does he have not to kill other abusers?

We know, through Carlisle’s condemnation of Edward’s actions when he ran away to eat rapists, and again when he’s delighted Edward didn’t eat rapists in 2005, that Carlisle doesn’t think humans lose their right to live - or perhaps, to rephrase in light of Rosalie’s situation - killing isn’t worth what it does to you, the killer.

When Rosalie wanted revenge, Carlisle urged her to move past it, to heal without making herself a murderer. That had nothing to do with Royce, or whether Carlisle thought he deserved to die or not, and everything to do with Rosalie. She had a very long life ahead of herself, and Carlisle did not want her to start it off with murder.

Of course, Rosalie refused to move past it, she had to have her revenge to move past this, and so Carlisle agreed. I imagine his consent came because of several factors:

This wasn’t a vampire killing humans, as Carlisle killing Charles would be, or Edward killing rapists for that matter. This was personal: this was a rape victim killing her rapists. Had Rosalie survived and been given a gun, she likely would have done the same thing.

Had Royce and his friends been convicted of the rape and murder of Rosalie Hale, they would have received the capital sentence. Unfortunately there was no body, so no one would know what happened to Rosalie and no charges could be pressed against anybody. Even if they could, and suspected who did it, Royce King II was a rich white man at the top of the social ladder in the 1930′s. He was untouchable. He did what he did to Rosalie because he knew he’d get away with it. Rosalie killing him and the other four rapists was what the legal system would have seen to in an ideal world.

Royce King II would likely have done what he did to Rosalie again, to other women.

Rosalie deserved justice after what was done to her.

Royce King II was a perfect storm of conditions for Carlisle to approve of a killing, and even then he would rather have Rosalie not do it. Rosalie and Edward found out how far Carlisle would go, and that turned out to be not very far at all.

And yet, when Bella was accosted in Port Angeles, there was no question to Carlisle as to whether he should do something or not.

I think, and this is me headcanoning, that when Carlisle has found himself facing the Royces of this world, people who are only going to hurt others, and there has been no legal recourse, his preferred course of action has been nothing, or as little as possible. Action means making himself judge and jury of mankind, and that’s not what he’s for. He walks with humans to help them, not to act as some vigilante above us all . He doesn’t have that right.

In extreme cases, though...

There will always be extreme cases. Serial rapists, child molestors, the worst of the worst. And they’ll be hard to catch for humans, especially in times preceding modern forensics. Carlisle, with his nose and hearing, has likely known the identities of culprits and of undiscovered crimes he knew he could never bring to the police. “Yes, your honor, I smelled him all over the crime scene. He’s guilty!”

I honestly think, in the most desperate situations where to do nothing would be to condemn the innocent to suffer monstrously, Carlisle has gotten creative. This could mean anything, could mean bundling up the offending human and putting them on a boat headed to Australia, could mean gathering up his surgical equipment in the dead of night and making a eunich.

Doesn’t mean murder, though. He made that quite clear with Rosalie and Royce. No matter the evil of the human offender, becoming a murderer would only make it a greater tragedy.

TL;DR: “Cool motive, still murder” - Carlisle Cullen.

#long post #carlisle cullen #twilight #twilight meta #twilight renaissance #rosalie hale #royce king ii #rape mention cw #tw rape mention #charlie platt

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pikapeppa · 5 years

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Cullavellan and Fenhawke pirate AU: Fast Learner

Chapter 4 of Where The Winds Of Fortune Take Me is up!

In which Piper and Fenris enjoy the well-intentioned bickering of very good friends and receive a mysterious letter.

Read on AO3 instead; something like ~8900 words? Art, as always, by the inimitable @schoute!

- FENRIS -

Fenris was silent as he followed Piper along the filthy alley that led from Darktown to the Lowtown market. Her booted steps were silent as always, but her gait was jaunty, and Fenris frowned disapprovingly when she started to hum quietly to herself.

He didn’t say anything, though. He remained silent as they made their way through the alley. It wasn’t until they reached the mouth of the market that Piper turned and gave him a reproving look.

“Come on, Fen. Are you going to be this boring all day?” she complained.

“I am not doing anything,” he said defensively.

“Exactly,” Piper said. “You haven’t spoken to me since we left the ship. If I’d known you were going to be so boring, I’d have brought Anders instead.”

Fenris was unamused. “I told you we shouldn’t come here,” he said. “I told you it was dangerous, and Varric did as well, yet here we are.” He folded his arms. “My opinion means nothing to you, so why bother speaking?”`

Piper stared at him for a moment. Then a slow, shit-eating grin spread across her face. “You’re pouting.”

He scowled more deeply and looked away toward the seething activity in the market. “I am not pouting. Pouting is for small children.”

Piper propped her fists on her hips and beamed at him. “Yes, it is. So what does that make you?”

“An elf who may soon be abandoning your crew if you continue to aggravate me,” he deadpanned. He jerked his chin at the market. “You insist on being here, so get on with it. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can return to the ship.”

Her teasing expression softened. “It won’t take long, I promise. Quick foray through the market, then I’m just going to nip into Hightown–”

“A terrible idea,” he muttered.

“–and you can wait in Darktown for me if you want. You don’t even have to stay in the market,” she finished.

He shrugged and tucked his hands in his pockets. It was difficult to say whether Lowtown or Darktown was less appealing. The exposure and the press of people in the market had always made him uneasy, but Darktown was dank and unpleasant. It was populated only by criminals and smugglers and pirates who were quickly passing through, and it was… well, boring.

Fenris knew that Piper would tease him if he expressed this opinion, though. He knew she thought he was overly cautious and unadventurous. But compared to Piper with her penchant to run headfirst into every possible danger, anyone could be called unadventurous.

It wasn’t that Fenris disliked adventure or new experiences per se. The problem was that the risks so often outweighed the nebulous possible benefits – hence his and Piper’s diametrically opposed views about coming back to Kirkwall every month. Was it really worth risking her own death just to flirt with that cursed Commander Cullen? Did she really think her life was worth a foolish visit with her Hightown crush?

His fingers brushed over the scarlet ribbon in his pocket. A fleeting memory of smiling copper eyes rose in his mind, and he quickly shoved the thought aside.

He folded his arms and sighed. “I will wait in Lowtown,” he grumbled.

She smiled again, then punched him playfully in the arm. “Good man. I knew you’d come around.”

He huffed quietly as he followed her into the market, but his hint of amusement was short-lived. As they moved through the crowd, Fenris noticed that they were attracting more attention than usual, even though Piper’s behaviour was relatively subdued.

People were staring at him. Their eyes were darting over his face and his marred arms in a way that they hadn’t done since he and Piper had first started coming here a year or so ago. More curious yet, they were staring at Piper as well, even though she was known to practically everyone who regularly frequented this place.

He hunched his shoulders and rubbed a hand over his stark white hair. “Piper–”

“I know,” she muttered. “Let me ask someone. Hey,” she tapped a nearby merchant on the shoulder, “what’s happening? Why’s everyone staring at us?”

The merchant grimaced and pointed to the noticeboard that was hung near the stairs that led to Hightown. “Sorry, Captain,” he said.

Fenris looked, and his jaw dropped in dismay. The noticeboard had multiple copies of the same two WANTED posters: one bearing a sketch of Piper, and incomprehensibly, one with a sketch of Fenris himself.

“Fuck,” Piper muttered. They strode over to the noticeboard and ignored her WANTED poster to study his instead. They’d all known for months that Piper was wanted for her various Kirkwall crimes, but Fenris had never been arrested for anything.

“Why is there a poster of me?” he demanded. “What are they accusing me of?”

Her eyebrows rose. “‘Fraternizing with a known pirate’,” she read off.

He shook his head in a sharp negation. “No. That is not a crime in Kirkwall,” he said. Before setting foot in Kirkwall for the first time, Fenris had asked Dorian to read the relevant parts of Kirkwall law to him to ensure that his mere presence here was permitted, despite his affiliation with Piper and her crew. Dorian had assured him repeatedly (and with increasing annoyance) that he could not be arrested for the mere fact of being a member of a known pirate’s crew.

Piper turned back to the poster and peered at it more carefully, and Fenris shifted restlessly until she finished reading it to herself. “Shit,” she muttered. “It looks like the laws have changed. It says here that the new anti-fraternization law is ‘by the Viscount’s Orders’. Signed a month ago.” Her expression was apologetic as she looked up at him. “It changed since we were last here. Fen, I’m really sorry–”

“It is not your fault,” he snapped. “But we cannot be here. We have to leave now.” He took a step back from the notice board and looked around the market. People were still staring and whispering, and any of them could go straight to Hightown to call on the nearest Navy officer to arrest him…

A ripple of unease ran down his spine, and he took another step back. Piper held out one placating hand. “Fenris–”

“I will not be chained,” he hissed. “I would sooner tear their hearts from their chests than be taken in chains.”

“Okay, okay,” she said hastily. “It’s not going to come to that. You go back to Darktown and wait for me, and I’ll go straight to Hightown super quickly instead of–”

“You’re still going to Hightown in the face of this?” Fenris demanded.

“Yes,” Piper said loudly. Then she stepped closer to him and lowered her voice. “Cullen held up his part of the deal. He didn’t tell anyone about Darktown. But he thought there was trouble in the upper ranks of the Navy. I want to make sure he’s okay.”

“He is not your responsibility,” Fenris retorted. “The livelihood of your crew, on the other hand…”

She shot him a mock-sad little pout. “Are you sad because you think I care about you less than Cullen?”

He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, then pointed accusingly at her. “If you are not back in Darktown in one hour, I will leave without you.”

“Fair enough,” she said. “Now look, I’m just going to run to the Halla’s Head to borrow a disguise from one of the girls there, and then I’ll go to Hightown. I’ll be so quick you won’t even notice I’m gone.”

He grunted a reluctant assent, and Piper darted away in the direction of the Halla’s Head. Fenris turned away in the direction of the dilapidated alley to Darktown, but before he could take more than a few steps, someone tapped his shoulder.

He whipped around with a vicious scowl, and a dwarven merchant held up his hands defensively. It was the same merchant who had sold Rynne Hawke a necklace on the day they’d met, about two months ago.

“What do you want?” Fenris demanded.

The merchant swallowed hard. “You… you’re the Ghost, right? Mad Piper’s Ghost?”

Fenris stared at him with growing confusion. “What?”

The merchant gave him an odd look. “You… that’s you on them posters, yeh?” He pointed at the noticeboard.

Fenris darted a glance at the posters, then back to the merchant. “And what if it is?”

“Nothing,” the merchant said quickly. “Nothing, just… I got a letter ‘ere for your Cap. Thought you could pass it on to ‘er.”

He was holding out a vellum letter, and Fenris snatched it from his fingers. The vellum was fine quality but smudged with dirt, as though it had been held somewhere filthy for some time, and the wax seal was an unusual geometric sigil.

Fenris peered suspiciously at the letter, then at the merchant. “Where did you get this?”

“That fancy bird. Hawke. The one what almost got mugged that time.” The merchant raised his eyebrows. “You remember the one. She stiffed me for that necklace, she did.”

Fenris’s belly flip-flopped. This letter was from Rynne?

He scowled at it with fresh ire. No wonder it was so expensive-looking. But why was Rynne Hawke leaving letters in Lowtown for Piper?

He looked up at the merchant. “How long have you had this? When did she… when was it handed to you?”

The merchant scratched his bearded chin. “Couple weeks ago, yeh? Maybe two or three. Messenger gave me three whole royals to hang on to it for Cap’n Mad Piper.”

“I’m back!” Piper skidded up beside them and jauntily saluted the merchant in greeting, then looked at the letter in Fenris’s hands. “Hey, what’s that?”

He handed it to her. “It is from Rynne Hawke.”

Piper’s eyes went wide. “You’re kidding.” She took the letter and carefully broke the wax seal, then began to read.

Fenris tapped the hilt of his sabre, then folded his arms and glanced cagily around the market. “Well? What does it say?”

Piper let out a short little laugh. “It’s, um…” She ran a hand through her hair and looked up at him, and he frowned more deeply at the anxious look on her face.

She lowered her voice before answering his question. “She’s asking to join the crew.”

Fenris gaped at her. “What?”

“She wants to leave Kirkwall and join the Lady Luck.” Piper studied the letter as she spoke. “Says she’ll pay us a great deal of money if we’ll let her join the crew. How naive is that?” Piper laughed, but her voice was tense. “Paying a captain to join the crew? Ridiculous. My crew don’t pay me. What does she think, that she needs a dowry to join the Lady Luck?”

“Maybe she should bring a dowry,” Fenris retorted. “She will be dead weight on the ship.”

Piper shot him an offended look. “What do you mean by that crack?”

“Piper, be reasonable for once,” Fenris said scathingly. “Will she be able to do anything useful? Does she have any practical skills? She is of noble birth. What will she be able to do on the ship?”

Piper shrugged. “She can be the ship’s eye candy. Raising morale for the crew and all. Mythal knows you enjoyed looking at her.”

He scowled. “I do not. I did not,” he self-corrected hastily.

Piper shot a very pointed look at his traitorously hot ears. “Uh-huh,” she said. “Anyway, who cares what she can do? She’s in trouble, so we’re going to help her out.”

Fenris drew back slightly. “She is in trouble?”

“Yes,” Piper said impatiently. “Why the fuck else do you think she’s hoping to run away?”

Fenris glared at her. “You didn’t say she was in trouble,” he said. “You made it sound like it was some foolish lark on her part.”

Piper rolled her eyes. “Fen, for fuck’s sake–”

“I’ll remind you that I rely on you for information,” he snarled. He gestured angrily at the letter, which he was unable to read.

She sighed heavily. “Fine, fine, fair enough. I’ll read the important bits to you. She says here: ‘I’m in a bit of a bind. There’s a situation that’s come up that I’d rather avoid being tied to for the rest of my life, if you catch my drift. Any chance there’s room for a lady on that ship of yours? The sooner I can slip my way out of it, the better – you know how patient men can be.’”

She finished reading and gave Fenris and expectant look. He frowned. “An arranged marriage?” he said slowly.

“That’s my impression, too,” Piper said. “And this letter was dated just over two weeks ago.”

He pursed his lips. “Is that truly a sufficient reason to run away from a privileged life?” he muttered.

Piper raised her eyebrows and folded her arms. “I guess we’ll have to find out the details after we rescue her.”

They stared at each other in silence for a long, tense moment. Then Fenris sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Venhedis fasta vass,” he muttered.

Piper gave him a small smile. “So you’re going to help me get her out of Hightown, then?”

He scowled. “If we are caught, we will be charged with kidnapping along with everything else. They would hang us for this.”

“Good thing we’re not going to get caught, then,” she said brightly.

He gave her a hard look, and she lifted her eyebrows expectantly. Finally he tsked. “Fine. I will help you, as you leave me little choice.”

“Perfect. I knew I could count on you,” she said happily. “All right, we need a plan. Let’s go back to Darktown for now while we figure something out.”

They headed along the crumbling alley back to Darktown. Fenris nodded distractedly as Piper babbled about disguises and climbing up windows in the dark of night, and while she made her plans and talked about using boot polish to hide her distinctive hair, Fenris slid his hand into his pocket.

His fingers found the ribbon again – the red satin ribbon that Rynne had casually asked him to hold for her, and which she’d forgotten to take back before Cullen had led her away. Fenris still wasn’t sure why he’d kept it; it was worthless to him, after all, not to mention a reminder of the casual wastefulness of the noble class: to hand over an expensive sliver of fabric so casually without realizing it was gone. But every time Fenris thought about throwing the satin ribbon away, something made him pause.

It was that cursed fleeting memory of her eyes. The smile at the corners of Rynne Hawke’s eyes and their precise honeyed shade of bronze, and the way she’d looked at him without staring, like she was seeing more than just his obvious scars. It was rare and unexpected, especially in a noble-born human. Every time Fenris made to throw the ribbon away, that look in her eyes rose to the forefront of his mind, and he found himself tucking the ribbon into his pocket once more.

Foolish and sentimental for no good reason, he scolded himself silently as he followed Piper to one of their caches in Darktown. He really should throw it away. He had no use for such sentimentality, not when his primary focus was on surviving each day. There was no place for the sort of fanciful speculation that drifted through his mind at night when he thought of the red satin ribbon in his pocket, especially since he had never really expected to see Rynne Hawke again.

“Here,” Piper said, and Fenris was jolted from his thoughts as she thrust a bundle of black fabric at him. “That’ll keep you nice and incognito. And we should find you some boots to cover the tats on your legs…”

He took the threadbare black hooded coat she offered him, but shook his head. “No,” he said. “No boots. I will need bare feet if we may be scaling walls.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Ooh. Good point. Well, I’ll need my boots for blending in with the other servants in Hightown.” She dug around in the cache and pulled out a small container of black shoe polish and a pair of daggers, then handed the daggers to Fenris.

He placed his sabre in their dinghy for safekeeping, then began sharpening the daggers while Piper tied up her silver hair. They worked quietly for a time, then Fenris spoke to her. “This is the most dangerous thing you have ever done in Kirkwall.”

She didn’t reply, so Fenris pressed on. “The human Navy will consider this a serious crime. They will see it as abduction, regardless of what the Hawke woman says. I know you are aware of this,” he said quietly. “This is not something that even Cullen could ignore.”

“I know,” Piper said with an edge to her voice. “That’s why we won’t get caught.”

Fenris ran the whetstone along his blade once more before speaking. “Even if this goes off without incident, I will no longer return to Kirkwall with you. I will not risk setting foot in this place again.”

She nodded and unscrewed the pot of shoe polish. “That’s entirely fair.”

He leaned forward and stared at her until he caught her gaze. “If we are caught, I will not hesitate,” he said quietly. “I mean it, Piper. I will not be chained by anyone.”

A tiny frown appeared between her eyebrows at the clear implication in his words. She eyed him in silence for a long moment before replying. “We won’t be caught,” she said, very seriously. “I’ll stake my life on it.”

Fenris stared hard at her for another moment, then leaned back and continued sharpening his daggers. “Pray that you will not need to.”

She scooped a blob of polish, then smeared it on the hair by her temples. “Have a little faith in your captain. When have I ever steered you wrong?”

Her tone was jocular again, but her expression was focused and fierce – not unlike the way she looked before a raid on a slaver ship.

Good, he thought ruthlessly. He wanted her to have this do-or-die attitude before going into Hightown, because that’s what it would take to successfully get away with this scheme.

That’s what it would take to get out of Hightown alive.

**********************

Very late that night, when the only occupants of the Hightown streets were the patrolling guardsmen and the rare Hightown criminal, Fenris skulked through the shadows on his way to the Hawke estate.

Piper had told him where the estate was and how to recognize it: the Hawke family crest, same as the symbol on the wax seal that Rynne had left on her letter. Piper had already spent a few hours incognito in Hightown, so by the time Fenris met with her on the grounds of the Hawke estate, she would know the best time, place, and method to get Rynne out of her family home and out of the city.

He slipped unseen past the usual smattering of city guards and climbed over the expensive wrought-iron gates and into the grounds. It wasn’t long before he found Piper hiding behind some of the extensive ornamental shrubbery that decorated the Hawke’s vast backyard.

He crouched beside her. “Well?” he whispered. “How do we proceed?”

She looked at him. “Cullen’s gone,” she said.

Fenris paused for a moment. He was momentarily thrown by her unrelated response. “What… what do you mean, he is gone?” he finally asked.

“Not stationed in Kirkwall anymore, it seems,” Piper replied. “I snuck by his office. There’s some new fellow in there, and the Navy grunts were calling him ‘Commander’. Looks like the Golden Boy has found himself a new post.”

Fenris studied her carefully. Her words were light and breezy and her expression was pleasant, but her eyes were oddly intense.

He narrowed his own eyes. “You suspect something is off?”

“Creators, yes,” she said. She turned away to look at Rynne’s house. “It’s fine, though. I’ll deal with it later. Let’s save our fair Lady Hawke from a dull life.”

She was clearly bluffing. If she suspected something had happened to Cullen, there was no way she was fine.

It was equally clear that she did not want to talk about it further right now. Fenris didn’t press her; they needed to focus on the task at hand, after all. They could discuss this Cullen issue later.

“How do we proceed?” he repeated.

She pointed at the house. “Rynne’s bedroom is on the second floor, on the right. Convenient little balcony there, it’ll make things easier getting in and out. Lamps and candles went out in the whole house over an hour ago, and the last movement I saw was a servant on the first floor, about twenty minutes ago.” She pointed jerked her chin at the lower floor. “There’s one guard covering the grounds; he does a tour of the whole grounds every fifteen minutes or so. Should give us plenty of time to sneak back out the window and over the gates.”

Fenris scoffed quietly. “You think this Hawke woman will be able to climb down a wall and over the gates?”

“Sure, with a little help,” Piper said.

Despite her casual words, there was a distinct edge to her voice, and Fenris could tell his doubt was scratching at her nerves. But this was not a task that Piper could succeed at by bulling her way in headfirst. It wasn’t like she could throw Rynne out the window and hope she would land on her feet, after all.

He frowned at her, but she speared him with a glare. “We are doing this, Fen,” she whispered fiercely. “I am not backing out now.”

“I know that,” he hissed. “I just hope you know what that might entail.” He dropped his gaze to the dagger at her waist.

She tutted at him. “Always the pessimist,” she whispered. She turned away and looked around the yard, then nodded briskly to him and darted across the grass toward the house.

She immediately began scrambling up the brick wall toward Rynne’s bedroom. Fenris followed swiftly at her heels, gripping the mortar with his callused fingers and toes and hauling himself up the wall as quickly as he could. By the time he swung himself over the bars of the small balcony, Piper was already jimmying open the window latch from the outside.

Fenris hovered one palm over the throwing knives strapped to his thigh and kept an eye on the yard while Piper cursed softly at the stubborn window. A long, tense moment later, she finally sighed in relief, then swung the window open and poked her head in.

A moment later, she ducked back out and grinned at Fen. “All clear. She’s fast asleep. This is going to be a great surprise.” She snickered, then climbed through the window.

Fenris followed her into the dark bedroom and loosely closed the window behind them. He darted a glance around the room – no other occupants, thank the Maker – and watched as Piper crept toward the door to check for anyone else being awake in the house.

He took a cautious step closer to the bed. Just as Piper had said, Rynne was fast asleep; her long dark hair was bound in a braid that curled carelessly over her shoulder, and one of her hands was tucked under her chin, like a sleeping child.

Fenris critically studied the frilly bodice and frivolous cap sleeves of her ivory nightgown. She looked so much at home in this huge opulent bed. How Piper thought this woman was possibly going to acclimatize to the ship was beyond him.

“All right, let’s wake her up,” Piper murmured.

Fenris tore his gaze away from the soot-dark crescents of Rynne’s eyelashes. He frowned at Piper. “Be subtle–”

His warning came too late. She shamelessly crawled onto the bed and leaned close to Rynne’s ear. “Hey Rynne,” she whispered loudly. “Come see the motion of the ocean with us.”

Rynne yelped and sat bolt upright in the bed, and Fenris rubbed his face in total despair. “Piper,” he hissed, and he moved swiftly toward the door in case anyone came to investigate.

“What the– Piper? Is that you?” Rynne’s voice was husky with sleep but undeniably pleased, and Fenris glanced back at the bed to find Rynne hugging Piper around the neck.

Piper chuckled softly as she accepted Rynne’s hug. “Captain Mad Piper, at your service,” she whispered.

Rynne laughed as she released her. “What the fuck are you doing here? I didn’t – you – Maker’s balls, did you come for me? You got my letter in the market? Wh– why do you have shoe polish in your hair?”

Her voice was growing louder in her excitement. Fenris scowled at her. “Lower your voice,” he whispered harshly.

She whipped around1, and if possible, her joyful face lit up even more. “Fenris!” she breathed. She slid out of the bed, and to Fenris’s alarm, she hurried toward him.

His heart did a strange little flip in his chest, and he took an instinctive step away from her. She stopped in her tracks, but the excited grin didn’t leave her face. “Oh, it’s lovely to see you again!” she enthused. “Did you come with Piper just to rescue me? My knight in shining armour. Or, er, a hooded coat, I suppose. But that’s just as good.” She batted her eyelashes at him.

Fenris frowned, and Piper snickered. “All right, love, let’s get you out of here. Escape now, chat later.” She moved toward the window and began uncoiling the rope and grappling hook that she’d hung at her hip.

“Marvelous! Oh, isn’t this a treat,” Rynne chirped. “Let me just grab my bag…” She took a step toward a polished wood wardrobe at the far side of the room, but before she could go any further, Fenris held up a hand.

“You need to be certain that this is what you want,” he told her bluntly. “There will be no returning to Kirkwall after this. We will be wanted for kidnapping you. If you leave with us, there is no returning to this life.”

“Is that a promise?” Rynne said. “I hope that’s a promise.”

Her tone was bolshy and her smile was wide, but there was something intense about her eyes – something that quite reminded Fenris of the look on Piper’s face when she’d said she was fine. Whether or not she regretted it later, Rynne Hawke was clearly committed to leaving her life behind right now.

Fenris stared at her for a moment longer, then lowered his hand. “Fine. But no bags.”

Her eyes widened. “But–”

“No bags,” Fenris insisted quietly. “We cannot afford the awkwardness or the weight.”

She turned plaintively to Piper. “But I wanted to pay you for the trouble, it’s only fair…”

Piper waved an impatient hand. “Oh, Rynne, fuck off with that,” she said. “You’re part of the crew now. And now we have to go.” She reached for the window to start pushing it open.

“Hang on,” Rynne whispered. “Why don’t we take the stairs?”

Fenris scowled at her, then at Piper. “I told you,” he muttered. “She is unable to handle the escape. What will she–”

“Fen, you know I think you’re the tits, but if you don’t lay off, I’m going to put a dead fish in your bunk,” Piper retorted.

He scowled more deeply at her, and Rynne twisted her fingers together awkwardly. “I, um, was simply thinking if we take the stairs, and if I leave the front door and the front gate unlocked, maybe it’ll look more like I ran away instead of being kidnapped?” She looked askance at Piper and Fenris. “The only people with keys to the doors and the gate are the family and the staff.”

Piper tilted her head, then shrugged. “I mean, sure. That makes sense.” She looked at Fenris. “You all right with creeping through the fancy house and out the front gate?”

He shrugged bad-temperedly. Rynne’s plan wasn’t a bad one. “Fine. Lead the way,” he grunted. He waved gracelessly at the door. “If you see someone awake, cough, and we will hide until they pass.” He declined to tell her that he would incapacitate or even kill anyone who spotted them if he needed to.

She giggled as she stepped past him toward the door. “So much intrigue! This is so exciting already.” She opened the bedroom door and peered into the hallway for a moment before looking back at Fenris and Piper.

“I don’t see anyone,” she whispered. “Not on this floor, at least.”

Fenris and Piper followed her into the hallway, then down the grand curving staircase to the spotless main foyer, and Hawke quietly hurried over to a large closet near the front door.

“What are you doing?” Fenris hissed.

She didn’t reply, but a minute later, she emerged from the closet in a simple dark hooded cloak. A pair of keys dangled from her fingers, and she had shoes on her feet.

The shoes had two-inch heels and polished silver buckles. Fenris frowned at them. “You cannot be serious with those.”

She widened her eyes. “They’re all I have! These are the least terrible ones I’ve got.” She wistfully eyed his bare feet. “I wish I could go without shoes, believe me. Knowing my luck, I’d probably step on some glass right away.” She shot him a coquettish look. “If I cut my feet, though, perhaps a certain handsome elf would have to carry me…”

Piper snorted very quietly, and Rynne grinned at her. Fenris scowled at the two women, then gestured roughly at the door. “Get on with it. Let us leave this blasted place.”

“Hear hear,” Rynne whispered. She quickly unlocked the door and eased it open.

Moments later, they were through the wrought-iron gates – which Rynne strategically left ajar – and striding through Hightown as quickly and quietly as they could. Fenris kept his breathing quiet and steady, but his heart rate was steadily climbing as they made their way toward Lowtown. They’d made it this far unscathed, but for some reason, his nerves only seemed to stretch as they moved further and further from the Hawke estate. What if someone awoke and found the doors ajar and sent for the Navy to investigate? What if someone came after them?

What if Fenris was forced to kill someone who did not truly deserve it? Then his WANTED poster would actually be warranted.

“Fenedhis,” Piper hissed. “Up ahead.”

Fenris looked. At the mouth of the stairs to Lowtown, despite the dead hour of night, there were two Navy lieutenants on alert.

“Kaffas,” he muttered. He frowned at Piper. “This is unprecedented.”

She sighed and rubbed her forehead. “It’s probably because of us,” she whispered back. “The fucking WANTED posters. Someone must have snitched.”

“Oh no,” Rynne lamented. “Oh, I didn’t want you two to get in trouble for this – this is my fault…”

Piper shrugged carelessly. “Not your fault. They were always going to try and pin us down for something,” she whispered. She looked at Fenris. “Distract and conk them out?”

He nodded sharply, and Piper slipped away. A moment later, she bolted out of the shadows and directly toward the Navy men.

“Thank the Maker!” she gasped in a Free Marcher accent. “Please, come quick, there’s been a burglary at the sausage shop–”

She continued to babble at the surprised Navy men, and Fenris turned to Hawke. “Stay here and be quiet,” he hissed. Then he slipped out of the shadows and snuck up behind the two men with his dagger in hand.

He struck one lieutenant on the back of the head with the dagger pommel, then the other, and both of them dropped without a sound. Piper grinned at Fenris, but before they could take a step, a voice rang out from about fifty yards away.

“Hey! Hey you! Stop right there!”

“Run!” Piper yelled. She darted toward the shadows and grabbed Rynne’s elbow. A split second later, they were all pelting down the stairs to the Lowtown market as fast as they could go.

As fast as Rynne could go, in truth. Her impractical blasted shoes and the long skirt of her nightgown were clearly an impediment, and when she tripped and stumbled forward with a squeal of alarm, Fenris was not at all surprised.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her upright. “Keep running,” he snapped.

She didn’t reply. She was gasping for breath, and Fenris mercilessly hauled her along the alley toward Darktown.

Piper reached the dinghy before them, and she was already pushing it out to sea by the time Fenris and Rynne reached her side.

“All right, crew, let’s get the fuck out of here,” she panted. She glanced up at them, and a smile split her face. “Ooh. You two got cozy real quick, hmm?”

“What are you carrying on about?” Fenris snapped. Then he realized why she was grinning.

He was holding Rynne’s hand. He must have grabbed her hand to support her during the mad dash down the alley.

He instantly released her, and Piper’s grin widened. She deftly hopped into the boat, then held out her hands to Rynne. “Come on, love, get in here. Fen will push us off.”

“All right,” Rynne said breathlessly. She awkwardly stepped into the little boat with Piper’s help. Fenris shoved the dinghy into the bay, then grabbed the oars and began swiftly rowing them back out toward the Lady Luck.

Rynne was fanning herself. “That was – Maker’s balls. I’ve never done anything like that before. I don’t know if I’ve ever run like that in my life. That was…” She fanned herself for another moment, then suddenly burst out laughing.

Her laughter was bright and vibrant and completely joyful, and it sent an unexpected shiver of warmth down Fenris’s spine.

He frowned at her as he continued to row the dinghy. “Lower your voice,” he scolded. “It will echo across the water.”

“Sorry,” she gasped. She covered her mouth demurely but continued to giggle. Then she started pulling off her cloak and shoes. “That was amazing,” she announced. “This whole thing – you two just showing up out of nowhere like that? I didn’t expect that. I’d stopped expecting you to get my letter at all, actually. I figured that merchant had probably swindled me, but I couldn’t check because my mother fired Flissa – she was my favourite handmaiden, we’ve been friends since I was twelve…” She dropped her shoes unceremoniously on the scummy floor of the dinghy and tucked her feet primly up on the bench. “Well. Anyway. She has a new job in a shop, which is probably better anyway than working at my family’s house, but I had no idea if you were coming. And then you came! And now…” She looked around at the broad expanse of the Waking Sea, and Fenris watched as her grin grew even wider.

She pointed to the east. “Look at that. I mean, look! That’s the start of a sunrise.”

Fenris glanced carelessly to the east. On the horizon, the faintest hint of pink was starting to beat back the navy blue of night.

Fenris turned back to face her. “You have never seen a sunrise?”

“Not on the open sea!” she exclaimed. “It’s beautiful.”

“It has barely begun,” Fenris said flatly.

Piper playfully punched his arm. “Cheer up, Fen. Let the girl enjoy her first sunrise at sea. The first of many!” She smiled at Rynne and started unpinning her polish-stained hair. “Now I need to get this shit out of my hair. Pardon me while I take a little swim.” She winked at Rynne, then dove fully-clothed into the sea.

Rynne laughed as Piper splashed about, then sighed happily. “Honestly, this is already fantastic. I don’t know how I imagined this happening, but it wasn’t like this. In a good way!” she added hastily as Fenris raised an eyebrow. “It went perfectly, didn’t it? No one saw me. No one saw you. They saw Piper, but they probably wouldn’t recognize her with the boot polish in her hair. And then that running through the market and – oh Maker, if they’d caught us? Oh, that would have just been…” She pressed a hand to her chest. “That would have been… such an adventure! I…” She trailed off once more, then shifted carefully toward the edge of the dinghy and promptly vomited into the sea.

Fenris gaped at her as she emptied her stomach over the edge of the boat. She straightened slowly and held one shaking hand over her mouth, then laughed. “Maker’s balls. That’s vile. I’m so sorry,” she said.

Fenris briefly released the oars and rifled under his bench for a waterskin, then wordlessly handed it to her. She smiled behind her hand, then turned away self-consciously and rinsed her mouth before drinking a few gulps of water.

She offered him the waterskin back, but he shook his head. “Are you all right?” he asked.

“Oh yes, of course,” she said airily. “Just, um, a little seasickness, I suppose.”

Fenris hummed equivocally. Then something terrible occurred to him.

He shot her a sharp look. “You are not pregnant, are you? That had better not be the reason you have run away,” he said forbiddingly. “If you are expecting to raise a baby on a pirate ship…”

She gaped at him, then threw her head back and laughed merrily. “Pregnant?Me? Of course not! I’ve never even kissed a man, let alone – um. I mean.” Her cheeks instantly went bright red, and she started fanning herself. “Well, that’s fantastic. Rynne Hawke overshares with the handsome elf before we even reach the ship,” she said cheerfully. “I’m off to an excellent start.” She ducked her head and laughed nervously.

Fenris didn’t reply. His tongue suddenly felt like it was stuck to the roof of his mouth. It didn’t surprise him that Rynne was a maiden; she was the unmarried daughter of a high-class noble family, and such things were valued in human high society. But for some unfathomable reason, Fenris’s wayward mind seemed to have taken this information and run with it, transforming it into inappropriate images of Rynne lying in that ridiculously opulent bed of hers while his tattooed hands slid the fabric of her ivory nightgown up over her calves, then over her knees and along her thighs, then…

He cleared his throat. His ears were burning, and he dearly hoped she couldn’t tell. “Good,” he grunted. “A child on the ship would be less than ideal. We have our hands full dealing with Piper’s antics as it is.”

Rynne stared at him. Then a slow smile bloomed across her lovely face. “Did you just make a joke?” she asked.

Fenris huffed. “That will be for you to decide once you’ve been on the ship for a few days.”

She laughed. Her laughter was so brilliant and bright, like the sliver of sun that was now peeking over the horizon, and Fenris couldn’t help himself; he smiled faintly at her.

Her cheeks turned pink again, and she beamed at him and tucked a stray loop of chestnut hair over her ear. Then Piper’s head popped out of the water beside the dinghy.

She briskly slicked the excess water from her hair, then hefted herself gracefully back into the boat and began wringing out her now-clean hair. “All right,” she said cheerfully to Rynne. “First things first, we’re going to get you settled on the ship. And then...” She looked at Fenris. “You don’t have to come. Actually, you shouldn’t come. I’ll bring Varric instead.”

Rynne tilted her head in confusion. Fenris, meanwhile, knew exactly what she had in mind. “No,” he snapped. “Piper, absolutely not. No, no—”

“I said you’re not coming,” she said loudly. “You can look after the Lady Luck while Varric and I—”

“Er, what’s happening?” Rynne asked.

He ignored her and dropped the oars to glare at Piper. “You cannot honestly be this much of a reckless fool. We barely escaped the clutches of the law. Those Navy soldiers saw your blasted face!”

Rynne looked at Piper. “You’re going back to Kirkwall?” she said in surprise.

“No, she’s not,” Fenris snapped.

“Yes, I am,” Piper retorted. “I have to find out what happened to Cullen.”

Rynne straightened. “Commander Cullen?” she said. “Oh, I think—”

“You can find out without going back to Kirkwall,” Fenris snapped at Piper. “Send letters. Send a messenger. Send Varric on his own — he’s still a citizen of that cursed place! There is no reason for you to go.”

Rynne gave them both a nervous little smile. “Actually, I might—”

“Fen, I have to go,” Piper insisted. “I have to know what happened to him. If he got in trouble because—” She broke off and slowly combed her fingers through her hair, then smiled at him. “It’ll take half a day, tops. You can stay on the ship and help Rynne settle in, and Varric will smooth things over if I get into trouble, and I’ll be back on the ship before you know it.”

Fenris shook his head and opened his mouth to argue, but Rynne interrupted. “Actually, I don’t think you have to go back to Kirkwall,” she said loudly. “I know where Cullen is.”

Fenris and Piper looked at her in surprise. “How do you know where he is?” Fenris asked.

“My brother Carver works for the Navy,” she said. “He mentioned that Cullen got transferred to some new post on the island of Estwatch. He was all pouty, saying he wanted to go with Cullen… if I didn’t know better, I’d think my baby brother had a little crush—”

“When?” Piper interrupted eagerly. “When did he get transferred?”

Rynne tapped her lush red lips. “Um, he left Kirkwall maybe… less than a week ago? I think.” She looked hopefully at Fenris and Piper. “Is that helpful? I don’t listen to my brother half the time, but if listening actually paid off this time…”

Piper slung an arm around Rynne’s shoulder and shook her playfully. “Yes, it’s helpful! It’s perfect. Already helping out, and she hasn’t even set foot on the ship yet.” She wrinkled her nose at Fenris. “And you thought she would be useless.”

Rynne looked at Fenris with wide eyes. “You thought I would be useless?”

To Fenris’s vast annoyance, he could feel the tips of his ears turning warm again. He shot Piper a dirty look and picked up the oars once more. “Possessing one piece of helpful information does not prove your utility,” he muttered.

Rynne blinked at him, then shrugged and delicately arranged the skirt of her nightgown over her legs. “Well, that’s all right. I am fairly useless. But I’m a fast learner,” she said cheerfully. “I can’t wait to start learning how to be a pirate! Like how to sail and how to, er, handle swords and such things. And looting. Is that the right term for taking other people’s things? ‘Looting’?” She perked up and smiled at them. “And sea shanties! Do you sing shanties on your ship?”

Piper couldn’t answer; she was doubled over in laughter, and Fenris scowled at her before answering Rynne’s question. “The others do, sometimes,” he said. “But not I.”

“You don’t?” Rynne said. “Shame. I bet you’ve got a gorgeous singing voice, if your normal voice is anything to go by.” She shot him another flirtatious look.

He grunted and focused on rowing the boat, and Piper finally caught her breath. “I like shanties,” she said. She wiped a tear of mirth from her face and grinned at Rynne. “I’ll teach you one as soon as we get on the ship. We can wake the crew up with our wonderful singing.”

Rynne grinned. “Ooh, that will be a good way to ingratiate myself to your crew. ‘Hello, I’m Rynne Hawke. I’m useless but I just learned this song, so wake up and listen while I sing it to you!’”

She was laughing, and Piper was laughing with her, and Fenris frowned slightly as they neared the Lady Luck. He was of half a mind to tell Rynne that being part of a pirate crew was not all fun and games; in fact, it was primarily hard work and being on guard for any unexpected threats — especially given Piper’s tendency to steer joyfully into danger.

But Rynne looked so cheerful. She and Piper were happily discussing sea shanties and trying to choose the most lewd one for Rynne to learn, and for some reason, Fenris bit his tongue.

They pulled up alongside the Lady Luck near the rope ladder that led to the deck, and Piper rose to her feet with a grin. “Home sweet home,” she said to Rynne. “Up we go!” She swiftly scrambled up the rope ladder. A minute later, she threw down some ropes for the dinghy.

Fenris swiftly tied the ropes to the rings on the bow and stern of the dinghy. Rynne, meanwhile, carefully found her footing, then took hold of the rope ladder and started climbing. But before she could climb more than three rungs, she looked worriedly back into the dinghy. “Oh, my shoes—”

“You won’t need them on deck,” Fenris said. “In fact, I don’t think anyone will ever need those shoes again.” He jerked his chin at the rope ladder. “Go on.”

She smiled at him as she started to climb again. “You’re very bossy, you know,” she said. “I left Kirkwall so I wouldn’t have to be bossed around by some man, but I think I could stand to be bossed around by you.”

Fenris huffed and followed her up the ladder. “That will depend on what role is found for you. It remains unclear to me what Piper thinks you’ll be able to do.”

Piper tutted at him as she helped Rynne onto the deck. “Oh Fen, if you’re in love with our lovely Lady Rynne, just say so. No need to keep picking on her like a small child.”

Rynne turned and grinned at him. “Why Fenris, are you in love with me?” She fanned herself playfully. “We only just met, but I suppose I could be persuaded to court you…” She winked at Piper, and the two of them cackled.

Fenris glowered at Piper. “I am not — you are the childish one. You’re barely even taller than a child,” he added petulantly.

She wrinkled her nose and pointed at him. “Pouting. Bad flirting. You’re the child.” She kissed Rynne noisily on the cheek, then scampered off toward the stern. “Going to wake up Dorian and Varric!” she shouted, and she disappeared through the door to the officer’s quarters.

Rynne, meanwhile, was staring at everything on the ship with wide eyes. She clasped her hands in front of her chest and beamed at him. “Everything is so… ship-y!” she exclaimed. “I love those ropes.”

Fenris eyed her suspiciously. “You mean the rigging?”

“Yes!” she said. “It looks very interesting. And important.”

Fenris rubbed his mouth. This was hopeless. She was hopeless. She didn’t even know the most basic things about a ship. How were they supposed to find something useful for this woman to do if she didn’t even know what the rigging was for?

“Hey,” Rynne said.

Fenris looked at her. Her arms were folded, and her expression was matter-of-fact. “Don’t write me off just yet, not when I just got here,” she said. “I really am a fast learner.”

He raised a skeptical eyebrow, and she took a step closer to him. “I mean it, Fenris. I’ll learn anything. I want to learn. I want to… Maker’s balls, I want to do everything. I’ve just never had the chance.” She gazed up at the sails and the mast and the crow’s nest, and the smile on her face grew wider as she took it all in.

She rested her palms on the taffrail and gazed out toward the eastern horizon, which was painted now with myriad shades of rosey-pink and clementine. “I never had the chance,” she said softly. “I… this is my chance. I’m finally…” She sighed happily, then looked at him. “Now that I’m here, I’ll learn anything. I mean it. However you and Piper think I’ll be useful on the ship, I’ll do it.”

Fenris folded his arms. “Anything, you say?”

She turned toward him with a bright smile. “Yes! Anything.”

“What if we made you become the cook’s assistant?” he said.

She nodded eagerly. “I’ve never cooked before, and I might burn everything at first, but yes!”

He lifted his chin. “If we tell you to swab the decks?”

She grimaced. “You mean mopping, I assume? Not ideal since I’m a slob, but yes. If it means I earn my keep, then I’ll do that.”

He lifted his chin. “And if you must learn to slit a man’s throat?”

At his blunt words, Rynne’s smile transformed into a look of shock. He huffed and looked out at the eastern sky. “There is not a single person on this ship who hasn’t killed a man, and with skill,” he told her quietly. “Self-defense, raids on slaver ships, skirmishes over territory or loot… This is a pirate’s life. Our crew is less murderous than most, but we are killers nonetheless.” He shot her a hard look. “This is what you have run away to. Is it not what you expected?”

She was quiet for a moment. Then she took a step closer to him. “I’ll do what I have to,” she said firmly. “I asked for this. I knew what I was getting into when I asked Piper to help me escape Kirkwall. If I have to learn to… to slit a man’s throat, then I will.”

Fenris studied her critically. Her tone was firm, and her pretty face was anxious but determined.

Then she smiled. “How do you teach that, anyway?” she asked. “Do you run dinner knives along each other’s necks for practice? Whose job is it to teach throat-slitting?”

“It is mine, in fact,” he said. “I am the master-at-arms.”

She stared at him in surprise, then smiled more brightly still. “So you’ll be teaching me?” she said. She looked more enthusiastic than ever. “How wonderful! Honestly, Fenris, I’ll be a good pupil. You can teach me anything.”

Anything? The thought rose unbidden from the deepest part of his mind — an unexpectedly ribald thought, accompanied by an unexpected and unwelcome fantasy of Rynne receiving some lessons of a very private nature at his hands.

He tore his gaze away from her lips and folded his arms defensively. Then, to his vast relief, Piper burst out of the officer’s quarters with Varric in tow.

“Dorian’s still in bed, the lazy ass,” she told Fenris. She skipped up to the helm. “Wake everyone up, will you?” she called down to Varric. “I want to get going.”

“Varric!” Rynne squealed, much to Fenris’s surprise. She hurried over to the dwarf and kissed his cheeks. “Oh, how lovely to see you! You can catch me up on all my favourite stories! Have you continued with Swords and Shields? You know how long I’ve been waiting for a sequel…”

Varric chuckled and politely kissed her hand. “Lady Rynne. Funny seeing you here on our humble ship.”

“Humble, my ass!” Piper yelled from the upper deck. “This is the best ship in all of Thedas and you know it.”

Varric shook his head in amusement. Fenris raised an eyebrow at him and Rynne. “You know each other?”

“Of course!” Rynne exclaimed. “Everyone in Kirkwall knows Varric. He’s the smartest man in Kirkwall. His bookshop was my favourite place to hide until he ran off to join Piper.” She shot Varric a mocking little pout. “You left me alone with no one to spend time with.”

He chuckled and patted her elbow. “Ah, it all worked out. Since you’re here, I’ll catch you up on your stories, I promise. Maybe even a sequel to that damned romance serial.”

She clapped her hands delightedly, and Fenris scoffed to himself. It seemed like he was the only one so far who was immune to Rynne’s charms.

Then Piper scampered over to join them. “All right, all right, we’re all friends and everyone knows each other and it’s a jolly good time, but I want to get a move on,” she said impatiently. She punched everyone in the arm — including Rynne, who exclaimed in surprise — then planted her fists on her hips. “Go wake up my fucking crew, you useless lot. I want to draw anchor and get out of here.”

“All right, all right,” Varric said affably. He sauntered casually toward the bow. “Where are we headed?”

“To Estwatch,” she confirmed. She folded her arms, and her expression was determined and fierce. “We’re going to find out what happened to Cullen.”

#where the winds of fortune take me #pirate au #fenris #cullen rutherford #piperford #fenrynne #cullavellan #cullen/lavellan #cullen x lavellan #fenhawke #fenris/hawke #fenris x hawke #fenris/f!hawke #fenris x f!hawke #fenris/femhawke #fenris x femhawke #pikapeppa writes #schoute draws

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northstarfan · 5 years

Note

Sooooo both for Mag7 either "17. “shh, it was just a bad dream. just a dream, okay? none of it was real” " But this time it's Billy with the bad dream or "3. c’mere, you can sit in my lap until i’m done working” with whatever Billy/Goody scenario you'd like.

HI! So guess who had a nap, woke up, and spat out 1300 words of post-Rose Creek fluff!

Also, why do you keep giving me prompts for the “Alive Is All You Get” AU? XD

(meme questions are here)

Goodnight’s foray into published literature hadn’t been accidental, not in the least. But the catalyst had been most unexpected, namely, that an unforgivably inaccurate account of the battle at Rose Creek had seen print (penned by a shop clerk who’d run off before the fight, no less!) and copies had made their way into Stoner’s general store.

Once Goodnight had stopped fuming over the framing of himself and Horne as the heroes of the piece (“Ours are the only names that damnable whoreson even bothered to learn!”), the way the rest of their Seven had been reduced to little more than supporting characters (“Billy, this son of a bitch keeps referring to you as my ‘Chinese manservant’!”), and over-mention of certain details (“I’d say I’ll have to go up the street and shoot the bastard on principle if he mentions Ms. Cullen’s ‘comeliness’ again, but I’d not dare rob her of the pleasure.”), he’d retaliated in the only impactful way he could think of: writing his own version as rebuttal.

Goodnight was a consummate purveyor of bullshit; it was, in part, how he and Billy had managed to get by on their wide-ranging circuit. He’d never expected to take up a pen in service of the truth*. He’d expected even less that the combination of his infamous name and the promise of violence and adventure would lead to truth being modest financial success.

Since settling in Rose Creek, Goodnight had taken up the mantle of businessman and that came with employees to pay and a hotel to upkeep, not to mention the bum leg that kept him indoors more often than not, and his often having not nearly enough to keep his brain occupied. So he’d taken up his pen again, applied a liberal dash of bullshit to the truth, and started writing out his and Billy’s travels as dime novels for public consumption. They didn’t do so badly, but the volume of material required to keep the income flowing meant there were few days where Goodnight wasn’t trying to hammer a new tale into shape.

Today, the wordsmithing was going poorly, but Goodnight couldn’t find it in him to be out of sorts. There was a good two feet of snow outside, but he was sitting cozy in the lobby of The Elysium. They had all of two guests in-house and no hope of foot-traffic, so Goodnight had removed himself from the receiving desk and planted himself on the padded bench closest to the lobby’s pot-bellied stove. The restaurant had shut more than an hour before, even the parlor ladies had retired for the night.

Goodnight would have taken the time to just enjoy the quiet and go back to his writing, save for the fact that Billy was idling at the bottom of the staircase, looking prickly enough to chew his own arm off just for something to do.

Goodnight cleared his throat to get Billy’s attention, then grinned his way. “If you’re starving for work, you could go sweep off the porch again. That’s a task worthy of Sisyphus.”

“Then I’ll just be bored and cold,” Billy muttered. And oh, lord, the knives were out. Literally - Billy had a blade in each hand, twirling and brandishing them with vigor that was somewhat alarming even for someone who knew him well. Not that he blamed Billy at all - two days of heavy snow was enough to send a far more sedentary man than Billy Rocks stir crazy. But that didn’t mean Goody had to leave him to suffer.

Goody moved his cane from the bench and beckoned Billy over.

“Why don’t you just come join me?” Goodnight’s grin went wicked as he patted his knee. “C’mere, you can sit in my lap until I’m done working.”

Billy rolled his eyes, but the knives slipped back into their sheaths. There was a subtle sort of smile lingering about his lips as he approached.

“Shameless old man.” Goody huffed laughter into his beard at the insult, but denied nothing. Billy settled in beside him and nodded down at the paper held loosely in Goodnight’s hand. “Want me to read that before you send it off? Faraday said you might as well have called that last one A Love Letter to Billy Rocks.”

“As I recall, you proofread that one too.”

Billy smirked and draped an arm over Goodnight’s shoulders. “I didn’t say there was anything wrong with it.”

Goody sighed in appreciation of the extra warmth. Hurtling off the church roof had given him a few new joints he hadn’t been looking for, and though they were healed, the cold of winter reminded him where each and every broken bone had been.

“You know you’re my favorite editor, cher. I just don’t have all that much for you to edit right now. I’m still spoiled for choice when it comes to relating our exploits.” Goody tipped Billy a look. “Any memory in particular you’d like to see committed to paper?”

Billy considered, then nodded at the snowy windows. “You could write about that winter in Alberta.”

“Lord Almighty… Billy, I’m still trying to forget Alberta! Man was not meant to exist that far north of the Mason-Dixon! I ain’t fully convinced I’m thawed out yet.” Goodnight pressed that much closer to Billy and wrapped his arms around himself for dramatic effect… then paused. “It’s not a bad idea, come to think. I could probably get a full installment just out of the trip up there.”

Silent laughter tremored in Billy’s chest before he spoke again. “See? It’s a good idea. And easier to think on now that we’re past worrying we’ll freeze to death.”

“Or get shot at. Or trampled by rampaging moose.” Goodnight sighed, his mood shifting entirely to contentment again. “I know I fuss about going soft, but this is a good thing we’ve got here. All those miles behind us, and a roof, a soft bed, and a warm stove waiting for us at the end of it.”

“Could have ended a lot worse. Good thing I talked you into it.” Billy smoothed Goodnight’s hair and kissed the crown of his head. There wasn’t anyone around, but Goodnight expected Billy wouldn’t have been deterred by witnesses. One of the reasons they’d stayed in Rose Creek was the exceptional leeway given their situation; Goodnight still had his skeptical moments about how much tolerance being local heroes actually earned them, but those moments were fewer with each month that ticked by and dwarfed by the pleasure of seeing Billy secure enough to be demonstrative. Nothing warmed him better than those moments when Billy was sure of their safety and so relaxed that he would give in to the simple human impulses too often denied him by the reality of his race and their own particular, peculiar love.

“Third most intelligent choice I’ve made in this life,” Goodnight agreed. He shifted just enough to brace paper and pencil against his good leg. “All right, then. The road north. What was that wagon master’s name…?”

The snow kept piling up aside, but it was of no concern as Billy and Goodnight fanned their memories out in the light of their single lantern, deciding which ones to share and which were to be kept for their pleasure alone.

——————————-

(*Goodnight would defend at least 90% of his version of the Battle for Rose Creek as being truth, which, in his opinion, was about 88% better than the clerk had done. But even he’d confess, he’d had to fill in a few gaps here and there with second-hand accounts and educated guesses.

“Goody. You make it sound like I killed half those mercenaries myself.”

“Well, cher, you’ve got to remember, I missed the first half of that fight. How can I be certain you weren’t responsible for all those corpses in the street?”)

#goodnight robicheaux #billy rocks #mag7 #the magnificent seven #goodnight x billy #fanfic #prompt fill

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corvidobligation · 6 years

Note

multiples of three for brook, prime numbers for arnjolf

Questions About Creating Your OCs

I deserve the Maths.

Brook

3. How did you choose their name?

I’m pretty sure I picked it just because I thought it was a nice name? Tends to be my thought process for most OCs, to be completely honest - “name pretty”. For other AUs she sometimes gets different names - in Spireverse and Skyrim she’s Brynja Runasdor, to fit in better with the vaguely nordic theme to her home cultures. In that one mass effect AU where she’s a Turian she’s Bruccia Aurius, in SWTOR she’s Breena Amej, and in Dark Souls, she’s Brihtiue. In all of these cases I picked names because they sounded nice to me, and fit in better with the world she inhabits than Brook Amell did.

6. Is there any significance behind their eye color?

Not hugely? I do enjoy playing off of the blue color and the cold looks she gives people in narratives, though. Icy eyes and an icy stare, y'know? :}

9. Are they based off of you, in some way?

Oooh boy. Not entirely? But there are elements of myself I couldn’t help weaving into her. She has a lot in common with me in regards to reaction to trauma which I did largely to find catharsis; boiling rage, missing memories, blaming herself and having trouble letting herself get close to people in fear of getting hurt again - all of that is me. And writing Brook being not okay usually helps me working through me being not okay.

12. What have you found to be most difficult about creating art for your OC (any form of art: writing, drawing, edits, etc.)?

Not really? I’ve had trouble drawing Brook in a way I’m satisfied with, but that’s just a skill/vision gap. She comes to me as a character very naturally. I love her.

15. What is something about your OC can make you laugh?

She is just terrible about crushes, watching her try and work through liking someone and telling them is like watching someone drown on dry land and it’s fucking hilarious. When she first met Jack, she told him to fuck off because she got mad his smile gave her butterflies and making her feel nice is not allowed, nope. In the early days at the Circle, flirting with Cullen was half as a fun side activity to the existential terror, but half because she knew he’d book it if she just flirted with him as aggressively as possible. She has never been graceful at all about her romantic attraction. And then there’s every single fucking thing she and @elswiththetubularbells2‘s Arran get up to.

18. What is the most recent thing you’ve discovered about your OC?

The most recent major thing was the bondage incident, or in other words, Brook is the toppiest chaotic top until someone brings out the rope, and then she’s a total switch. For more minor things, she very much likes being called pet names, but only if you’re close to her.

Arnjolf

2. Did you design them with any other characters/OCs from their universe in mind?

I knew I wanted a foil for Miraak, which is where the nord Hermaeus Mora follower came from as a concept. I also felt like I needed an OC with a tentacle kink already, but I can’t tell if Arnjolf is that OC, or whether Qodek fills that niche. But then again, Qodek is the one with the tentacles so you know what never mind

3. How did you choose their name?

Arnjolf is just a name plucked from a generator - Oath-Shifter came with more nuance, that being that Arnjolf is suspiciously trickster-like. Oath-Shifter came from the fact that he’ll keep every oath he makes, but he’ll wilfully misinterpret the wording in order to get away with changing the spirit of the arrangement. He promised he’d contain the threat Miraak posed, and then he soul-trapped Miraak. It counts!

5. Is there any significance behind their hair color?

blond boys hott

7. Is there any significance behind their height?

tol boys hott

11. Did you know what the OC’s sexuality would be at the time of their creation?

I’m still not sure what his sexuality is now, but I tend to lead with my OCs being pansexual unless proved otherwise, and Arnjolf hasn’t yet indicated whether he has a preference, so, ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

13. How far past the canon events that take place in their world have you extended their story, if at all?

Not far! I still can’t decide how he handles the end of the Dragonborn DLC, lmao

17. Is there some element you regret adding to your OC or their story?

I started out with some ideas about Arnjolf with regards to his relationship to the Nordic pantheon which I’ve since stepped away from - at first, I had him completely reject the main pantheon, but now, I’m convinced he has a much more complicated relationship with the gods of the Nords. There’s respect there, but little reverence for the ‘good’ gods. After all, he did choose Herma-Mora over them. He is definitely more of an old-ways guy, but he is a good couple of centuries old, so, ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ he’s forgiven.

TL:DR; Misrepresented Arnjolf’s religious feelings at the start, patched in the latest release of world’s worst hero

19. What is your favorite fact about your OC?

GOD. I don’t know? I love a lot of aspects of him. If I had to pick, it’s that he’s one of my first forays into the ‘bad person is still the hero’ trope. I don’t think I have another heroic PC like Arnjolf - all of my DA heroes are flawed but fundamentally good people. He’s just a bastard who happened to fight Alduin, happened to fight Miraak, and happened to fight against Harkon. (which is a whole other story)

#thievesguilding

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honestlywilde · 6 years

Text

2017 Writing Review

Total Number of Stories Completed

Technically none, which to be honest was super discouraging and almost had me not filling this out. I really enjoyed reading this from @ma-sulevin, though, and her tag was open to all, so fair is fair. So while I didn’t finish any of my long, multi-chapter stories, I got a lot of writing done this year, for my Dragon Age OCs on my DA sideblog @talesfromthefade (thanks in no small part to the @dadrunkwriting group), several new chapters for my longest and on-going WIP “Symbiosis” for Pacific Rim, and various other one-shots.

Total Word Count

Marina Amell: 21,051

Eloise Trevelyan: 14,643

Sonja Hawke: 12,230

Garrett Hawke: 9,315

Orana: 25,897

Neva Lavellan: 8,438

June Lavellan: 16,404

Non-OC DA one-shots: 19,174

Other AO3 one-shots: 30,693 __________________________ Total: 157,845

Fandoms Written In

Dragon Age, Pacific Rim, Mass Effect, Turn: Washington’s Spies

Looking Back, Did You Expect To Write More Fic Than You Thought You Would This Year, Less, Or About What You’d Expected?

Like I said, initially going into this I was quite down on myself, and sure I’d written a whole lot less than I could or may have wanted to this year. I am pleasantly surprised, and resolved to try and be kinder on myself in the new year. I had a lot on my plate in 2017, and got a hell of a lot of writing done considering.

What’s Your Own Favorite Story Of The Year?

Ugh, that’s tough. I am very attached to a lot of the stories I write for different reasons. I suppose I’d have to say “Symbiosis” is very dear to my heart, though I’ve been slowly chipping away at that one since mid-2016. Actually, since I’m working on finishing writing and editing the final chapter it will probably be the first multi-chapter story that I finish in 2018. I’m also very attached to “Come Undone” my Mass Effect fic, though. I’ve been getting back into writing chapters for that one as I find the time and inspiration and am hoping to update that one soon. I couldn’t really pick a favorite amongst all the vignettes for my Dragon Age OCs, there’s too many I love to choose.

Did You Take Any Writing Risks This Year?

I don’t know about risks, per say, but I challenged myself to try a lot of new things this year. I wrote my first ever fight scene- probably about half a dozen times from various POV’s, but finally came up with a result I was happy enough with to publish, and I’ve dipped my toes into the water with writing more smut and various kinks.

Do You Have Any Fanfic Or Profic Goals For The New Year?

Finish “Symbiosis”, ideally start (or even finish) part two of that series. Get more chapters up for “Come Undone,” continue to write and explore my OCs. Ultimately, I’m trying not to set too many goals for myself. If I make it all about the goals it can get to feeling suffocating, and I want to continue to love and enjoy the process of writing and creating things.

Best Story Of The Year?

I’ve written so many this year, but probably “Songs” with Orana and Cole, or “Mother in Law” with Marina Amell & Fiona. I love the opportunity to explore and for some of the secondary or lesser characters to have a little bit of the limelight.

Most Popular Story Of The Year?

Evidently everyone really enjoyed poor Cullen being flustered by the unexpected arrival of someone claiming to be Eloise Trevelyan’s betrothed (X). To be fair, I did have a lot of fun writing that one.

Story of Mine Most Under-appreciated By The Universe, IMO:

There’s a couple I would love to see get more love or discourse about them, but I think I’d have to say my pre-Origins one-shot with Marina Amell and Anders "Extra-Curricular Studies”. I love the idea of the two of them knowing one another and having been friends before she became a Warden and they meet in Awakenings and that was my first foray into exploring that. I definitely will be doing more with that in the future.

Most Fun Story To Write:

Another difficult one to answer. I have fun with most of the things that I write. At some point, if it isn’t fun, why do it? That said, I really enjoyed my College AU piece for Eloise and Cullen from last week’s DWC "Paper Hats & Kisses”. I’m always a bit nervous about putting my OC and canon characters into a Modern AU because there are so many other fantastic authors out there I don’t feel my skills will stack up against, but I really enjoyed this one.

Story With The Single Sexiest Moment:

I’ve mostly skirted around the edges of writing actual smut this past year, since I feel it’s a skill I still need more practice with, so the sexiest piece I’ve written is probably as much, or more foreplay than actual smut, but would have to be “Lamposts” about Marina Amell & Alistair’s first time. My third part in what’s now become a series of Fenders pieces would be a close second. It’s doesn’t quite cross the line to explicit either, but definitely skirts the edges and will with the next installment (X).

Most Sweet Story:

I think I’d have to say “Snowed in” with Orana and Cullen. It wound up being a bit heavier than I had originally thought I would get out of the prompt, but among many other reasons, Dragon Age has always been special and important to me for its representation of LGBTQIA characters, something I also strive to do with my own writing. Orana is my adaptation of an existing canon, but otherwise tertiary character in DA2 with a LOT of liberties. As such, I don’t necessarily expect her to be welcomed by the more skeptical or discerning fic reader, but she will always have a special place in my heart. Her dysphoria and journey learning to accept and love herself, and ultimately find and accept that Cullen loves her has always been a personal one, important to me, and a story I wanted to tell.

“Holy Crap, That’s Wrong, Even For You!” Story:

I don’t know that I’ve written it yet. But I have a couple of headcanons for possible Darker AUs for some of my OCs floating around in the back of my mind or half-brainstormed that I suspect would get some complaints for their angst and torturing the characters.

Story That Shifted My Own Perceptions Of The Characters:

Again, not really sure that I had any. Most of my writing process is character-based first and foremost, and plotted out second. That is, that I develop the hell out of the characters and try to largely let them guide the story, so nothing I wrote for any of them in 2017 really surprised me about them.

Most Unintentionally Telling Story:

I don’t know, most of my stories are telling in one way or another if you dig deep enough. All of the characters I write, whether they are OCs or canon, I’m often drawn to because I can relate or identify with them or some aspect of them in one way or another, so there are pieces of me in them or the narrative sprinkled throughout most of what I write. That said, I borrow a lot from personal experience whenever I write Newt Geiszler’s struggles with Borderline Personality Disorder or Hermann’s chronic pain in “Symbiosis,” and Orana’s dysphoria and journey to self-acceptance and self-love in her stories.

Hardest Story To Write:

“I Will Not Allow It” with Fenris and my Garrett Hawke, because it was my first earnest attempt to include a fight scene of any detail with a one-shot. There was a lot of hair-pulling at one point, but I’m happy with how it finally turned out.

Biggest Disappointment:

Probably not finishing any of my bigger, multi-chapter works this past year, but as I said, I’m trying to temper that. I got a lot of writing done in 2017, and that’s nothing to sniff at.

Biggest Surprise:

Pretty much any time I get a new follower on my DA blog, or one of my stories gets more than a couple of likes or reblogs. It’s a wonderful surprise when a story about one of my OCs finds an audience. I love to read people’s tag and comments in the reblogs about my stories and characters.

#ma-sulevin #writing review 2017 #about the blogger #writing #talesfromthefade

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celestialinent · 7 years

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randomly writing da:i smut once again. When will this end?

It took both of them losing everything for anything to happen.

Ellie had always liked Sera. It had never been hard to talk to the mischievous young woman- Ellie didn’t have trouble talking to anyone, in fact, Josephine said her charisma was part of the reason anyone still put up with a Dalish apostate leading a Chantry peacekeeping organization. So Ellie had gotten on well enough with Sera. She admired her principles, admired how well-organized the Red Jennies had become since the close of the Breach. She also appreciated how well Sera avoided keeping the gloating about Solas- Fen’Harel- to an acceptable minimum.

Ellie’s anger towards the ancient god, the man she’d loved, had only brought the two elven women closer. Ellie didn’t feel very kind towards thoughts of elven glory any longer, and Sera was good for that. And Dagna was so pleasant to be around, and removed from the situation. It was easiest to spend her time with the pair.

The rest of her companions had taken to giving her pitying looks, dancing around the subject of Fen’Harel, or insisting on helping her with tasks better suited to someone with two arms. She was grateful that so many of her friends remained. Dorian was in Tevinter, Leliana on the sunburst throne, Varric spent most of his time in Kirkwall, and Vivienne had left to reform the Circle, but most remained. And the rest of them visited. But she still hated their pity.

And then he started showing up places. They would set out to hunt elvhen ruins, respond to the panic left after a mass exodus from alienage all across Orlais and Ferelden, or try to reason with suddenly aggressive Dalish clans, and he’d be there. Not physically, of course- because for all that he was willing to tear this world apart for his own, he couldn’t dirty his own hands- but in her dreams.

In the weeks after Corypheus’s defeat, before he’d revealed himself as Fen’Harel, she’d searched for him, chased through the Fade, flashes of lupine shapes pushing her through a dark forest every night- but now their roles were reversed. He sought her out, tried to gather information, tried to dissuade her Inquisition from interfering with his plan to end the world. She didn’t know what he wanted, but she knew he wanted something she wasn’t willing to give.

It was Sera’s words that stopped her running.

“Well it’s his bits, innit?” she asked. They’d all gathered in the Herald’s Rest after a foray into the Emerald Graves that had yielded nothing. Sera was sloshed, leaning heavily on Dagna, and even Iron Bull looked drunk. Cassandra and Cullen had both refrained, but Ellie was on her fourth tankard.

“What are you talking about, Sera?” Bull asked, glancing at the blonde elf from behind his flask. Ellie was just as confused. She couldn’t fathom what Fen’Harel’s genitals had to do with any of this.

“If you were anyone but you, Inky, he’d just try to squash us like bugs. He talks about wanting peace before he achieves Elvhen Glory, but we’re a thorn in his paw. He wants to warn you off ‘cause you smashed bits. He’s soft on you.”

Ellie narrowed her eyes at the girl. “He took my arm, he’s killed my scouts, and he hounds my dreams. I haven’t really slept in a month. There’s nothing soft about the Dread Wolf,” she snapped.

“She’s got a point, Boss. Sol- I mean, the Wolf- hasn’t sent soldiers against any of us, just the scouts. And he took your arm to keep the anchor from killing you. The dreams- maybe he has something to tell you.”

“He wants to end the world,” Cullen pointed out, as if any of them needed to hear it. Ellie was still grateful for his pragmatic comment. Who cared if Fen’Harel was “soft on her”, he was a monster, he was a near sighted fool who thought that her world should end. The feeling she may or may not have had for her was irrelevant.

“Who bloody cares,” Ellie snapped. “How does that benefit us?”

“Seduuuuce him, Inky!” Sera exclaimed, as if that was the obvious answer. Ellie blinked at her for a moment, completely blindsided. As if Ellie would ever sink that low. Suddenly her shock was replaced with anger.

“Fuck off, Sera,” she snapped, shoving her stool away from the table, making to leave the tavern immediately.

“Oi, listen to me, Inky!” Sera snapped back, eyes wild for a moment. “It’sa good idea! The ancient arse won’t expect it-“

“Because I’d never do that!” Ellie shouted.

“Ya wanna win, don’tcha?” Sera shot back. “Don’t gotta do the deed or nuthin’, it’s just about making him think you’re givin’ him what he wants, innit?”

Iron Bull’s eyes suddenly lit up. “it’s not a bad idea, boss. I mean, I don’t know if I think you can pull it off- no offense- but it’s something I would do.”

“Is it?” Ellie asked, voice frosty. “And why wouldn’t I be able to pull it off?”

“You’re not underhanded,” Cullen offered, giving her one of his cheesy, romantic smiles. Elli fought the urge to roll her eyes at him. His affection for her wasn’t exactly a secret, but she had no patience for it. Ellie had never truly considered becoming involved with a shem. It wasn’t that she hated the idea, but the cultural differences always seemed too big a gap to bridge.

“I can be underhanded!“ she argued. The whole table looked uncomfortable for a moment, trading glances, and Ellie knew immediately they were deciding whether to contradict her. It set her teeth on edge when they did this. “I can be underhanded. How do you think my clan stayed so well fed? I stole and tricked merchants all the time!”

“I did not just hear that!” Josephine said. “And so, if that ever comes to light, I can deny that without guilt!”

“You’re a straightforward woman, boss. I’m sure you’re an excellent thief, but you’re no Ben-Hassrath,” Bull shrugged.

“You lie about as well as Cassandra,” Varric said, peering over his tankard at her. She stuck her tongue out at him, willing to lower herself to juvenile behavior in her irritation.

“I could do it,” she insisted. “We all know he’s attracted to me, and I don’t care about his feelings. I really could do it.”

“Of course you could, Inquisitor,” Cassandra assured her, but it was simple placating.

“I’m going to!”

“Now, Ellie, I don’t know how smart that is,” Josephine said in a moment of rare casualness. “It’s not a good idea.”

“Why not, Josie?” Sera asked. “I think it’s right smart.”

“It was your idea,” Cullen reminded her in exasperation.

“So?”

“I’m going to do it. Sera’s right. He has pulled his punches. If we know that, we need to take advantage of it. And he’s been trying to contact me anyway.”

“Maybe Inky could get some proper sleep if he stops botherin’ her. Getting his rock off might just make that happen.”

“Sera!” Josephine exclaimed. “Do not talk about the Dread Wolf “getting his rocks off” ever again!”

“Dread Wolf- he’s such a tosser,” Sera scoffed.

“He didn’t give himself that name,” Ellie told her. “But he did let it stick…”

“Exactly!”

“You should not do this, Inquisitor,” Cassandra butted in, stopping the tangent before it became a series of insults thrown at Fen’Harel by the two elves.

“It’s a good idea,” Bull repeated. “I don’t how it’ll end up though. Probably not smart to go into this blind, boss.”

“I know him.”

“He lied to you for-“

“I know him,” she repeated, voice solemn. ”I might have known his true name, but I knew him then and I know him now. I wish I did not, but I do.”

It was settled that day in the tavern, that she would try to exploit his feelings. The guilt she expected was absent, and it was both a blessing and a curse. But every time she wavered, she remembered that day, after fighting through swarms of qunari, exhaustion clawing at her, hopelessness seizing her, that day before the eluvian. She remembered his ‘explanation’.

“I would not lay with you under false pretenses…”

He’d been a liar, but that lie had hurt the most. Because he had. That night, the night he’d broken her heart in Crestwood, before his confusing proclamation that he didn’t want to distract her, they’d “made love.” He’d been lying to her as he fucked her, kissing her face, pretending to worship her, yelling out her name like it was a fucking prayer... He had meant none of it. He couldn’t have.

She did not feel guilty.

Still, this was not as easy as she had expected. For three nights she went without sleeping, hoping against hope the Dread Wolf would not catch her scent, as it were. The servants were the first to notice, obviously, and her maids began leaving dream pillows hidden in her mattress. She laughed at the discovery, but left them where they were and drank bracing cups of his hated tea.

But sleep had to take her eventually, and on the third night she finally stopped fighting it. After a long day of drills, planning in the war room, and arguing with Cullen about her decision, Ellie retired to her large, cold bed. She’d stoked the bed and put on her most comfortable silk sleeping clothes. They’d been a joke gift from Sera, a risqué red silk shift. It was Orlesian, and if Ellie wasn’t sure Sera had stolen it she would have refused it.

She fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, the smell of lavender and other sweet herbs carrying her into the Fade.

Awareness came slowly, something rather unusual. Ellie had always found slipping into the Fade easy, something that had impressed and delighted Fen’Harel when he’d first met her. This time she struggled to gain her footing. When she did, she was unsurprised to find herself in an unfamiliar forest. The vegetation was untamed, untouched by anyone. There was no hint of habitation by anything but the natural flora and fauna.

Moving forward, Ellie watched the way the sunlight streamed through leaves far above her head. She followed the barest hint of a pathway, not unlike the deer paths she’d walked as a child with her clan. This was a forest in midsummer, a welcome sight when in the waking world she was suffering through a particularly harsh winter high in the mountains. Skyhold was many things, but naturally insulated was not one of them. Heating the place was a nightmare. A nightmare she had to deal with quite a bit.

She relished the feeling of warm sun on her face.

Suddenly she felt a presence behind her, watching her. She turned, unsurprised to find the path behind her empty. Ellie had expected he’d be playing games with her. Leave it to the blasted wolf to delay an important conversation.

“Come out into the open Fen’Harel, I know you stalk my shadow.”

“Stalk your shadow?” his voice called out, the melodic tones sending an involuntary shudder down her spine. “Is that what I’m doing?” he sounded unjustifiably amused.

“Yes it is. If you would like to speak to me, do so openly. I know that might be hard for you, but I’d prefer it.”

His chuckle echoed through the forest, coming, it seemed, from every direction. She barely restrained a frustrated growl. Whydid he need to play games?

“I won’t put up with you for very long, Wolf,” she spat. “Show yourself and start talking or I’ll take my leave.”

“You’re not being very patient, Vhenan,” he muttered, sounding a bit put out.

She whirled around, having pinpointed the source of his voice. His lupine figure was behind her, his black fur stark against the backdrop of the forest. “Don’t call me that!” she hissed, eyes narrowing.

Any of her plans flew from her head suddenly as she was overcome with anger. She almost let loose an arc of lightning in his direction before she came back to her senses. “What do you want?”

He was silent for a long moment, watching her with his elvhen eyes in a canine face. The sight unsettled her. She noted the way his eyes roved her body, reminded suddenly of her state of undress. She could tell he appreciated Sera’s gift.

“Your dress…” he began.

“You called me to the Fade to talk about my dress?” she asked incredulously. She tried to sound as annoyed as possible, but was secretly thrilled that this was working. She’d distracted him, that was for certain.

“No, inquisitor. Only, I wonder who you wear it for. Not me, certainly?”

“How dare you!” she barked, narrowing her eyes at him. She tried not to overdo it, not wanting to come off melodramatic, but her outrage was a bit overwrought.

He nodded, eyes thoughtful. “But you do wear it for someone?” he pressed.

She was delighted at her success, but she pushed that away, instead focusing on the real anger she felt. He had no right to question her this way. She could fuck whoever she wanted. He had forfeited any right to that information. And that was exactly what she told him.

“Shove off, Dread Wolf. I need not tell you anything. You’ve lost any right to my truth.”

“Apologies, Inquisitor. Only, my spies have noticed the time you spend with your Commander. Cullen values you.”

“Cullen and I are not involved,” she scoffed. She regretted the words as soon as she said them. Mayhaps his jealousy would be helpful.

But she’d already said them, and he relaxed visibly at that.

“Sera and I have become lovers,” she snapped, eyes narrowed. When she saw his reaction she allowed herself a cruel smile.

“Sera?” he asked. His whole body had tensed, his eyes taking on a red tint. The sight made goose pimples rise on her skin. She nodded and he began pacing a bit back and forth before her. It reminded her of the way the hounds paced in their kennel before the kennel master allowed them out for their exercise. Her smile widened.

“We bonded over a mutual hatred for Fen’Harel,” she replied truthfully. He flinched.

“Ma Vhenan,” he began, but she put up a hand.

“No. I am not. If you wish to speak to me, stop hiding behind your mask. I won’t speak to the wolf any longer. Let me see your face.”

Ellie knew that she couldn’t seduce a wolf quite as well as she could a man, but reading a lupine face was also much harder than an elven one.

Fen’Harel nodded, and suddenly the large black wolf was replaced with Solas. He’d changed in the time they’d been apart, in ways that surprised her. He’d grown a dark head of stubble, jarringly different than his usual baldness. It took her aback for a moment before she remembered the murals she’d seen recently of him. He’d had locks in the murals, long ropes of hair reaching his waist. It was obvious he was trying to differentiate himself from homely, plain apostate and return to his status as a god. It was way he wore the blasted pelt and the grand armor.

He was as beautiful as before, his narrow gray eyes peering out from beside her long strong nose. The dimple in his chin sent a sharp stab of pain to her heart. This was Solas, her Solas, and she was both in awe and filled with rage at the sight of him.

The urge to rush him took her over suddenly. She fade-stepped towards him, fists raised to beat his chest before she could even stop herself. The roar she let out felt inhuman. She was reminded immediately of that night in Crestwood, when he’d broken it off, the way she’d hit him, the way he’d taken it. This time he did no such thing.

Fen’Harel seized her arms before she could strike him, grip tight on her wrists. She stared up at him, taken aback by his actions. She shouldn’t be though, right? They were enemies now. Of course he wouldn’t let her strike him. But the look in his eyes wasn’t angry. He looked…hungry.

“Vhenan, I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he warned. The term of endearment spurred her on. She struggled in his grip, yanking away, fully expecting him to release her. Instead, the Dread Wolf offered her a wicked smile and pulled her closer.

“Let me go,” she insisted. She should be glad for this development, thrilled that she was moving closer towards success, but instead she was terrified of what was happening. Her struggles became painfully real, but the wolf didn’t let her go.

“I am your friend no longer,” he reminded her.

“You were never my friend, Fen’Harel,” she spat. “You were a traitor from the beginning.��

“We were more than friends,” he insisted. “We were closed than that.”

Leaning down, he let his breath tickle at the tip of her ear, sending a shiver through her straight into her belly. She wondered if it was arousal or fear. Perhaps it was both.

“You lied to me, hurt me, hurt my friends, my scouts. You killed my people.”

“And you killed mine,” he countered, lips brushing against her ear as he spoke.

“But before all of this, we were more…” he reminded her. “Remember when I was inside of you? How did it feel.”

She pulled her head back, sending him a poisonous look. “In the light of what you are, it felt like a violation,” she told him, eyes cruel.

He growled, ducking towards her and crashing his lips into hers. She gasped at his action, opening up her mouth to his roving tongue. He delved into her mouth, and she let out an involuntary moan. Their kiss lasted several moments before he pulled away.

“I never forced you, Ellana,” he said, voice hard. “Did I?”

She stared up at him, eyes wide, but didn’t answer. The taste of him was back in her mouth, and for a moment she was lost in the sensation of his hands on her body once again. She could each place their bodies touched, the way his chest was flush against her own, the way his erection- something she was both horrified and thrilled to discover- pressed against her belly. Her skin felt tight, her face too warm.

“Did I force you, Vhenan?” he whispered once more.

She nodded her head before licking her lips, as if inviting another kiss. His eyes followed the movement, becoming hooded as he watched her tongue.

“You wanted me, wanted me inside you, didn’t you?”

She nodded again, face flushing with a minor sense of embarrassment. He chuckled.

“I want to hear you say it,” he commanded. She felt another flush of arousal in her groin. She stared up at him, taking in his freckles, his eyes, the way they turned down at the corners, the way his eyelashes curled. She was silent for a long time. This was the fork in the road, the last chance for her to turn back, to return to her bed and forget about this insane plan.

Then his eyes travelled back to her lips, and she melted. “I want you inside me now,” she admitted. He smirked down at her, hands leaving her wrists to encircle her body before resting on her ass. She pushed against those hands, wriggling into his touch.

It had been much too long since she had been touched like this by anyone but herself. She’d been celibate since Solas had left her and returned to reveal he was the Dread Wolf. It had been actual years since she’d been touched like this. The way his hands felt, hot against her backside was intoxicating.

“I think I can arrange that,” he promised her, lids dropping even lower as he watched her pant for him.

She huffed. “Stop with this, come on, Dread Wolf, fuck me.”

His eyes widened slightly at the words before he nodded. With a quick movement he swept her onto the ground, resting her on a bed of unnaturally soft grass. Her long hair spread out around her and he took a moment to run his fingers through the strands. “I missed this,” he murmured. She rose a single brow at that, but didn’t question it. “Soft as silk, silver as the moon,” he explained. His words sent a spear of heat towards her groin, and she grabbed the back of his head impatiently, yanking his lips towards hers.

His teeth bumped against hers, and their lips mashed together awkwardly for a moment, but after the initial confusion he took control, kissing her with a fervor she remembered all too well from the last time. He kissed her like it was the end of the world, and just like last time, she wasn’t sure if that was unreasonable or not. She kissed him back just as fiercely. She pushed every bit of passion, fear, anger, and betrayal she felt towards him into the kiss, pressing so close to him she was sure they would both bruise from the intensity of it.

The last time, Solas had been passionate, but ultimately gentle. He’d been conscientious, drawing out the foreplay until she’d come for him twice before taking her, but his hands ripped at her dress so forcefully this time that the felt the skin chafe. His hands found her breasts immediately.

He was ravaging her, ravishing her, ruining her. His hands left a trail of pain and pleasure. He stroked her nipples and pinched them, he jabbed fingers into her hips and caressed them in the next breath, and when he reached the apex of her thighs, he was gentle and rough in the same movement. He rubbed her clitoris just like he knew she liked it, circling it lightly, long slender fingers nimble as he began to draw a climax out of her, but when he penetrated her he didn’t start with one. He went in with three whole fingers, thrusting them in and out slowly, spreading her wetness onto them all while his mouth worked welts into her skin.

She gasped at the sudden intrusion, uncomfortable from the stretch for a moment, but them he picked up speed and the pleasure began outpacing the pain. She moaned into the forest air, breath wild as he brought her closer and closer to the edge.

“Scream for me, Vhenan,” he groaned against her neck. She moaned at the words, moving her hips into his thrusting fingers. Suddenly his thumb was on her clit, stroking it lazily. She did cry out then, feeling the sharp spark of her climax nearing. He was relentless in his teasing. He didn’t apply enough pressure to make her come, just enough to keep her wanting more. Suddenly, he removed his hand, moving up her body once more to face her. She whined.

“Please, please,” she begged, resting her forehead against his. He grinned at her before reaching down between them. With a single harsh stroke against her clit she came. She screamed into his shoulder, biting him as the climax reached its peak, making him groan with her.

When she was done and her vision had cleared, she saw him above her, eyes dark, mouth curling into a satisfied smile.

“My turn,” he gloated. She only blinked at him. She reached between them without a thought, taking his erection in hand. He let out only a single grunt at the touch. She wasn’t surprised he was trying to control his reactions, but it still angered her. Ellie tightened her grip on his shaft, give it a solid stroke before rubbing the tip with her thumb. He let out a much louder moan at that, and she smiled up at him in victory.

She gave him one more stroke before guiding his erection to her opening, urging him inside her. Without further hesitation he sank to the hilt, sighing in relief as soon he was sheathed completely inside her. She hissed out a breath at the sensation, reminding once more that she hadn’t done this in quite a while. But unlike last time, when he’d been so concerned with her comfort, Fen’Harel paid no attention. He began thrusting into her slowly, but soon picked up his pace, finding a rhythm quickly. She bounced beneath him, squeezing her thighs around him.

She never wanted to lose this feeling, never wanted him to stop being inside of her. He moved above her faster and faster, his thrusts becoming hard and deep. She let out a gasp with each, feeling his cock hit that sweet spot inside of her over and over. She was nearing another climax without even trying, squeezing herself around him just to heighten the sensation.

Suddenly his thrusts became wild, his eyes falling closed and his mouth falling open as he came. She screamed through her second orgasm soon after, and the two of them collapsed, breathing heavily, limbs suddenly heavy. He rolled them over, letting her lay atop his chest, but he didn’t pull out of her, something she took no issue with. The exhaustion came over her like a crashing wave, and her eyes slipped closed before she realized what was happening.

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #female lavellan #lavellan #solas #solvellan #sera #sera x lavellan #da;i

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