I&#x27;m with you. For now.

"It does not.” Her eyes squinted as she smiled, unable a quiet giggle. She settled with her arms around his neck, glad that at least his eyes were the same. "And even if it does, you have to tell them my rules are more important. ‘Sorry, Messere Warden, but Merrill tells me she hates beards.’ I don’t want to kiss a… bear."

The light in her eyes faded at his words, her hands dropped to his shoulders, pulling away gently. “It’s not only about that,” she said. Her vallaslin slanted downwards as her brow furrowed. “Varric thinks I can help, so I will. I won’t let a human be the only elven expert the Inquisition has. If I can learn more about my People, then all the better.”

"So? Hawke killed him before, and that was only with four people. Now we have a whole Inquisition and an Orlesian army. All we need now is the knowledge to defeat him."

#daisythedalish #au: part of something bigger

"Why do you think all the higher ups have huge ones, then? Do you remember Warden Stroud at all? One of my mentors?" he laughed fondly, stroking an imaginary moustache. "His lip hair was down to here. I'll have to tell them you called them all unkissable bears."

His laughter cut short at her downturned gaze, falling into a stern frown as he listened to her words. "Yeah, but back then he'd only just woken up. Now he has... crazy fade powers along with who knows what else. I know you'll be more help than that witch could ever be, but I've never seen anything like the powers Corypheus wields before. I, uh, don't suppose you've got any ideas on how to stop him yet, do you?"

Been There Done That: Peaches.

Currently Doing That: Merrill.

It Happened Once In A Dream: Isabela.

If I Had To Pick A Dude: Fenris.

Eagle Two: Aveline.

#ooc; outofcarver #memes;#[ hi why not ]

For a moment she thought he was going to throw her off the battlements. That would have made for an interesting story, presuming that she survived. Instead, she felt Carver catch her wrist as he turned. He looked older every time she saw him, which she supposed made sense, but this time it was different. It was like— like something was pulling him away from here.

Merrill didn’t have much time to study his face, however, soon the only thing she could study was the crook of his neck and he pulled her into a hug. Her chin pressed uncomfortably into his armor (why was he wearing it inside a fortress?), but she smiled all the same.

Her feet lifted off the ground, toes curling in mid-air. She wrapped her arms around the back of his neck to steady herself, her landing almost graceful. Merrill pulled back, laughing as she combed her fingers through his hair. “You need a haircut,” she noted. "And a shave, don’t think I didn’t notice those whiskers.”

The elf deflated a little at the question, not sure if Carver would like the answer. “Varric asked for me. He claimed the Inquisition could use an Elven expert who isn’t ‘drowning in their own self-importance.’” His words, not hers, which Carver could probably tell by how her voice deepened as she said them. “He told me how they found a Temple of Dirthamen, and after that… I had to come.”

#daisythedalish #au: part of something bigger #[ he likes girls who aren't like others ]

It had been quite some time since Carver had last seen her. Maker be praised, he'd missed her so. Letters kept them in contact for the majority of the past three years (nine, if one counted the years he'd been separated from the group to become a Warden). But neither letters of her adventures and exploits nor the little doodles she drew sometimes on the edge of each vellum she sent compared to the the sight of her grand smile, or the floral scent she brought with her, or the warm comfort she brought with their closeness. He was slow to put her down, a few moments in his arms weren't nearly enough to cover three years.

And here he was, all unkempt and unwashed and tired from the morning's practice. And the week's, admittedly. Sheepishly rubbing at his chin, he grunted. "Every Grey Warden needs a beard. Says so in the rules. Not my fault I can't grow even a little stubble."

He had an inkling that the reason Merrill pulled herself away from the elves' plight couldn't be solely to be around his surly self again. "That sounds like that Witch of the Wilds they invited," he said, grimacing at her imitation of their dwarven friend. "You never could keep away from seeking your people's past, could you?"

"You're sure about this? It's going to be dangerous," he murmured, though he didn't doubt her conviction. "Corypheus will be there, too."

theharellan

"The night is young and there are still a few hours to go before I sleep. I can enjoy the evening, and go to sleep content." He smiles dryly. "Clearly you have not yet Dorian, or the Iron Bull."

#theharellan #au: part of something bigger

"You'll at least see it passed the eve? The dwarf's gotten a few of us-- asked me to go ask you." Carver snorts, shaking his head. "I make it a point not to talk to people whose egos are bigger than my own."

doofyagetoo

All Carver really wants for Christmas is his own bunk :(

#[gtfo bro. broooo]#queue thoughtfully applied

moved-awokenswarlock-deactivate

moved-awokenswarlock-deactivate

bertiecr0chue

incorrectdragonage

bitofatit is really easy to sneak up on

No one had told him she was here, right? Otherwise he would probably be looking for her.

Maybe Varric had wanted it to be a surprise, and in that case Merrill was determined to shock him so terribly it’d scare the Blight from his blood. Bare feet padded over cold stone, Skyhold was large and a little confusing, but there was a familiar feeling to the passageways.

She saw him on the battlements, facing north towards the mountains. He looked grim. Merrill wasn’t sure how Carver managed to be so expressive with just the back of his head, but there was something about the way he stood. He looked rigid, harsh… it had been too long.

When a guard opened his mouth to greet her, she placed her finger against pursed lips, shushing him silently. She hardly made a sound as she crept up behind Carver. At the last second she sprang up on the tips of her toes, covering his eyes with her hands.

"Guess who?" she chirped, her grin so wide it was likely to split her face in two.

#daisythedalish #da:i spoilers #[ just for future reference carver's default da:i setting is joining at HLTA ]#[ is a grey warden; joins in addition to the other two; warden sacrifice ]#[ until i can be bothered to make a verses page lmao ]#au: part of something bigger

Carver never really liked mountains. They were harsh, arduous to climb, and only reminded him of bad memories. --Well, maybe not all bad, but he hadn't been able to see her or hear from her for quite awhile, since Aveline had dragged him to some ass end of nowhere. Protection, by request of his sister, she had said. Well, now he was here. In Skyhold, serving to end the damned darkspawn magister that attacked them all those years ago. Showed her and his sister who was boss. Ha!

Still, even now he felt it singing. Whispering to him, over the mountains and through the woods. Beckoning him to come, to rise to his calling. Still the magister darkspawn tried its tricks, even though they'd unearthed and vanquished that plot. He'd stand and resist the urge, fighting against the calling, and against those who would cast him away, the sour note of the Wardens' folly still fresh on the minds of the Inquisition. He would remedy that--

It wasn't rare that he would get caught off guard, even among the ranks of the keep in Amaranthine or otherwise, but all too quickly his vision went black. Carver stiffened, feeling the grasp on his face, about to shout. Was there no one on watch? He should have been more vigilant...

A voice interrupted his split second panicking, so sing songy and peppy and cheery it hurt... It couldn't be. He whirled around on the spot, quickly capturing the offending elf in a bear hug. Pure elation filled his face. Relief, excitement, concern... all dwarfed by the ecstasy of seeing her. "I can't believe it," he whispered, setting her down. "What in the world are you doing here?"

fuckin--mages

(๑◔‿◔๑) i got some new brushes and Carver seemed like a good test subject.

h-awke-blog

bitofatit started following you

"Please tell me you didn’t just say that."

#h awke #[ idk if i should be replying to this so late but sob i'm sorry ]

"I did. What are you going to do about it?"

Moving In | daisythedalish + bitofatit

Merrill glanced down at his feet, humming in thought. “Perhaps, but at least you have your boots to protect you.” If Merrill dropped something on her foot then she was more or less out of luck. At least Carver had a thick layer of leather to protect his toes. Not that it wouldn’t hurt.

"A table and chairs? Won’t that be, I don’t know, a little unstable?" She wasn’t sure how he planned to carry it all, perhaps balance it on his head like how some women carried pots. Merrill would probably pay to see him do that. "It will be strange, having a whole room to myself. And tables, and wardrobes… I won’t know what to do with it all." So long as she had a room to work in peace, she would’ve been fine. The shards of the eluvian lay under a loose floorboard in her home, and it would be nice to have some furniture to cover the cracks.

As they turned round the bend, the closed streets in front of the Hanged Man opened up into a wide market, full of men and women peddling their wares. “You didn’t feel even the slightest bit nervous?” she asked. Merrill was incredulous, but she asked the question she doubted Carver could tell she thought he was hiding something. “Hawke tells me you had to wait days in the Gallows. Not knowing if you’d be sent back to Ferelden or not. I’d be terrified.”