Eilan and Lex, two twenty-year-old elves of Clan Lavellan, share a bond forged in the familiarity of their shared upbringing. Hidden beneath the surface of their daily lives, a secret love has blossomed over the last eight months. As the clan settles into their summer camp on the balmy shores of the Waking Sea, the contrast in their dreams becomes apparent. Eilan yearns for a future where their clandestine love transforms into a lasting commitment, while Lex's heart is pulled towards the allure of unknown adventures in distant lands. As the summer's heat intensifies, so does the tension between their desires and among clanmates. Will the idyllic setting of their youth be the backdrop to a love fulfilled, or will it witness their unraveling?
Read on AO3 -> https://archiveofourown.org/works/52434187/chapters/132646609
Romantic kissy kissy elves excerpt below 👇
“What are you doing?” she heard a voice laughing from above. She looked up to find Lex, evidently amused by her predicament. The sun lit his pale blond hair from behind. He extended a shapely arm down to her, his perfect skin already sporting a light tan.
“Come on,” he said.
Eilan clung to the rock face, peering down towards the surf to see how far she would fall if this went poorly.
“I have you,” Lex said.
She hesitated then quickly grabbed onto his hand. He pulled her up onto the boulder as if she weighed nothing at all.
“Taking the scenic route?” His eyes were bright with laughter. Once, in a sappy poem that will never see the light of day so long as she lives, she had compared the color of his eyes to the pulp of limes. It fit the rhyme.
“Which way should I have gone?” Eilan asked, confused. She shivered as the breeze brushed against her wet clothes and skin.
Lex pulled her into a close embrace and rubbed her back to warm her. He nodded north towards the forest. “The long way around.”
Eilan’s cheeks flushed.
“I see what this is,” he teased, pushing past her embarrassment as if he did not see it. “You wanted to get all wet to seduce me. It’s working.” He kissed her. They lingered in their kiss, lips playing with each other’s, breaths quickening. His fingers slipped up the back of her neck and twisted gently in her long dark hair as he deepened his kiss. She moaned against his mouth, bewitched by his touch.
“Come on, I got a place in mind,” Lex whispered. He led her by the hand down the bluff to the empty beach. They walked past where the star had marked the meet-up spot, west along the coast. The walk was long enough to cool the heat stoked by their kiss and make room for their easy friendship.
As they walked, they gossiped about yesterday’s Clan drama. The Clan had just arrived at the campsite, which meant a day full of chores and interpersonal chafe. Someone had broken a fish trap while unloading them, presumably accidentally, and did not confess to the mishap. Old Fenren had spent the rest of the day more preoccupied with finding a culprit than attending to his own chores, which led to tempers flaring in fits through the day. Lex and Eilan compared notes on who snapped at who, and, more intriguingly, why. In Dalish clans, fights could never be explained at face value.
Lex led them north towards the tree line. There was a small fire pit in the sand. Behind it, the low branches of two beach almonds were tied together to form a domed den. The unnatural curve of the branches had undoubtedly been guided by Lex's wild magic. Sunlight filtered through the canopy of leaves, dappling the den in green light. Eilan followed Lex inside. It was barely large enough for the two of them. A thick straw mat covered the floor. Eilan noticed it looked new, likely for her benefit, and was delighted by the observation. From the low canopy hung dozens of lengths of braided twine, each decorated with seashells and sea glass. “What is this place?” Eilan asked.
“A little escape I made a while ago. Been coming here for years. Maybe seven or so.”
“Does anyone else know about this place?”
“No. Just you.”
Cullen x Trevelyan | Hawke x Trevelyan | DAI | Epic | Multiship | Slow burn | Fast burn | Complications While Saving the World
Chapter Summary: Everything goes to shit at the ritual tower
Fic Summary: Lady Rose Trevelyan's idle, aristocratic life blinks out in a haze of irrelevance when the breach destroys the Conclave. She may be soft and coddled when she joins the Inquisition, but there's a fierceness inside her she's yet to fully recognize. Armed with only a few relevant skills and the mark that makes her a legend, she is thrust onto a path delivering hope where it’s long been scorched away and finds comfort in the grumpy, handsome stick in the mud charged with her protection and training. As she stumbles her way across southern Thedas, she begins to realize she's tangled at the center of machinations she barely understands, and she's not alone in that. Enter Hawke.
Excerpt below the cut 👇
A pair of pale blue eyes rages at me. “Who the fuck are you?”
I yank at his shackles in search of the lock with one hand and fumble for my picks with the other, shoving my tensioner into my mouth. We both flinch against a block of stone sailing over us.
“Someone—” I pluck the pick from my lips, slip it into the lock and grunt a response. “Someone trying to save your arse.”
Under normal circumstances, lockpicking is second nature, but with flame and rock and arrow suffusing the air around us, with my blood slickened left hand, I can’t seem to crack it.
“Maker’s sakes. You’re as bad as my brother,” he moans, rolling up to watch.
“Get down!” I cry, chunks of crumbling ruin hurtling toward us. With a clanking jerk, Carver tugs me flat against him. Erimond picks himself up from where I’d sent him scuttling with the anchor, his eyes flashing that same terrifying violet, summoning more objects into the air.
“Oh shit,” I breathe, scrabbling for my picks against the stone floor.
“Your hand— it’s— Maker your her, aren’t you?”
“A pleasure to meet you too,” I say through gritted teeth, prying at the tumblers in his right shackle.
In a swift jerk, Carver rolls me to the left out of the path of a stream of flame. I tumble out of his hold, panicking as Erimond charges another spell. “Enough with the bloody lockpicks, woman. Kick me that sword.”
I catch my foot on the guard of longsword and drag it to him, fishing with a free hand for the first grenade I can find. Antivan fire sloshes in its glass ampule. As Carver Hawke finds his feet, I lob it at Erimond, the sticky fluid splattering all over and burning in a perfect orb around the man’s barrier.
“Fuck!” I cry, pulling my bow off my back and scooting on my arse out of the onslaught. Erimond sends another levitated chunk of ritual tower hurtling toward Carver, knocking him back against the very block meant for his blood. He recovers, gripping the sword in a hand still bound to the other, throwing off a staggering Venatori archer with a potent elbow. He catches another in the chains that hold him and wrenches their head sideways with a disgusting pop.
is a loosely canonical chronicle of the events of Dragon Age: Origins featuring a canonically impossible Warden and a F!Amell/Alistair pairing, which results in some familiar situations resolved in unfamiliar ways.
It is fully pre-written (by myself, over the course of the past seven years) and illustrated (by the exceptional @vjatoch), and is being published in a serial format with weekly updates.
CHAPTER 3
in which the Grey Warden recruits and their leader reach the swamps of the Wilds and encounter their soon-to-be sworn foes: the darkspawn.
Read chapter 3 on AO3! / Start from the beginning!
Sign up for the tag list by commenting below to get tagged on weekly update posts on tumblr! Alternatively, you can follow the tag #ssfp sanguine!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/?
Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age - All Media Types
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: The Iron Bull (Dragon Age)/Original Female Character(s), Female Inquisitor/The Iron Bull (Dragon Age), Female Inquisitor & Solas (Dragon Age)
Characters: Mira Foret, Leliana (Dragon Age), Male Lavellan (Dragon Age)
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Modern Girl in Thedas, Established Relationship, Open Relationships, Aromantic spectrum, Mira Is a Charger and a Healer, Mira Has Some Knowledge of Events, Explicit Sexual Content, Size Difference, Service Top Bull, soft domming, Aftercare, Just Because Bull is a Masochist Doesn’t Mean He’s a Sadist, Eye Trauma, Temporary Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Found Family, Childbirth, Background Relationships, Platonic love is important too, Additional Warnings In Author’s Note, Additional Characters to Be Added As They Show Up
Series: Part 2 of Driftwood
Summary:
Mira Foret has left behind her life with the Chargers. But that was only the beginning of her tale. The Inquisition awaits.
Beta’d by Iron_Angel.
NSFW will be marked**
Updates on Mondays.
Chapter 1 - In the Service of the Greater Good
The realization that it would be soon settled on her shoulders like a lead weight. She was tempted to run, to get as far from Haven as she possibly could. Leliana wouldn’t know in the aftermath. She could just leave, save herself. Find a way back to Jader and throw herself at Bull’s feet. He would take her back. It would be the smart thing to do, the self-preserving thing to do. She didn’t wholly understand why she hadn’t. Why she wouldn’t. Maybe because she wasn’t a coward.
Maybe because she was.
She darted up the path that led to the Temple, keeping ahead of a group of ostentatious nobles who’d come to hear the Divine speak and add their two coppers to the arguments that were sure to erupt. They mingled, albeit sourly, with the Templars marching in formation and the mages huddling together for safety in numbers. They would all of them be dead in just a few short days. Perhaps even hours. The few who escaped the blast would be injured, in mind and body. Maybe that was the real reason she hadn’t left. She knew what was coming. She was a healer, first and always. She couldn’t run, not when there would be need of her.
Hawke x Trevelyan | DA2 | Matchmaking Mischief | Fluff and Smut | Fish out of Water | Romantic Comedy
Gif by @lazysunjade
Chapter Summary:
Garrett and Rose trip deeper into this Maker-damned game they're playing.
Fic Summary:
Smashed together in a matchmaking scheme cooked up by their enterprising mothers, Garrett Hawke and Rose Trevelyan are forced to endure one another for a whole week over Satinalia at the Hawke Estate. Rose hears he’s a swashbuckling treasure hunter, as wild as he is handsome and as ill-bred as he is rich. Garrett suspects she’s a brat of an ingenue by the string of rejected marriage proposals behind her. Determined to prove to the other that they could not be less compatible, they quickly find their mothers’ plot might be working better than they thought.
Excerpt below the cut 👇
A few short blocks later they come upon a narrow street laced with vibrant banners in scarlet and amber. Painted signs with provocative names. The Crowing Cock. The Blooming Rose. The Sheath and Dagger. Taverns, Rose suspects, since the street is all but deserted at this relatively early hour save for a few workers sweeping. Rose looks back into the barouche to see a little war playing out between Leandra and Garrett— Garrett urging the driver to stop while Leandra furiously waves him on. The driver stops.
“And this is the—”
“Tavern row! Where people come to relax after a long day!” hurries Leandra.
Garrett’s eyes twinkle at his mother. “A kind of relaxation anyway. And I suppose they’re technically taverns.”
Rose’s brow lifts as she takes his meaning. Houses of ill-repute stacked one on top of the other and so near to the fine homes of Hightown. She cranes her neck and assesses them with a curiosity that pops and snaps inside her. The potted topiaries seem a bit out of place she admits, and all the signs seem finely carved and painted— though she detects the vestiges of mischief, the scrubbed off remnants of a G on the The Crowing Cock . By her mother’s twitchiness she must also have her suspicions but Leandra begs the driver to continue and the barouche lurches to life once more.
“And this is the Guild Quarter! It’s where Dwarven merchants negotiate and tra— is that blood on the cobbles? I think it is! Looks like the city guard had their hands full last night.”
Indeed, here and there the crevices between the cobbles pool with drying blood. Alsatia draws a handkerchief over her lips. Leandra shoots her son a stony look. Rose makes a show of stroking her chin and then speaks.
“Well, I think that shade of red really sets off the banners,” she says, daring a glance at the man across from her. She’s practically drunk on the little game between them, her pulse thumping in her wrists as she folds her hands across her lap.
Garrett bites down on a sudden grin and shakes his head.
“Really, Rose,” hisses Alsatia under her breath. Rose smiles knowingly to herself.
“It’s not as violent as everyone makes it seem ,” insists Leandra. “If you read the broadsheets I’m sure it must seem like Kirkwall will collapse under the weight of all the crime. But I assure you that is anything but the case. Viscount Dumar has a firm grasp on the reins of our dear city!”
Garrett slowly looks over at his mother with a cocked eyebrow.
“I won’t pretend that the reports of elevated criminal activity haven’t given me pause,” says Alsatia. “But surely the gates of Hightown will hold against the riff raff.”
The blood on the cobbles might suggest otherwise, but Rose bites her tongue.
Hawke x Trevelyan | DA2 | Matchmaking Mischief | Fluff and Smut | Fish out of Water | Romantic Comedy
Gif by @lavellanlin
Chapter Summary: Garrett comes home. Rose eavesdrops. Garrett gets stitches. Rose gets an eyeful.
WC: 2,592
Fic Summary: Smashed together in a matchmaking scheme cooked up by their enterprising mothers, Garrett Hawke and Rose Trevelyan are forced to endure one another for a whole week over Satinalia at the Hawke Estate. Rose hears he’s a swashbuckling treasure hunter, as wild as he is handsome and as ill-bred as he is rich. Garrett suspects she’s a brat of an ingenue by the string of rejected marriage proposals behind her. Determined to prove to the other that they could not be less compatible, they quickly find their mothers’ plot might be working better than they thought.
Excerpt below the cut 👇
“Well I think it went well!” says Leandra, returning to the chopping block with supplies. As she wanders to the fire to pour a cup of tea for her son, she carries on. “I— admit Alsatia seemed a bit stiffer than I remember. But I think she liked my tart.”
There’s something tense in her voice like she isn’t sure at all. She’s soothing herself. He can see it in her expression.
He takes an inelegant oversized bite and speaks through a mouthful. “Well if she didn’t, she’s a blazing moron.” His factual assessment is met with a glower. “ Only because it’s the finest treat in the whole of the Marches.” He adds. “I hope it was a pleasant evening.”
“Alsatia and I were able to catch up for an hour or so. Lady Rose was tired from the journey so she didn’t stay with us long, but I can’t say I blame her exactly. It’s a terribly long time to sit in a carriage.”
“I spotted her in the library just now,” he says.
“A reader! That’s promising,” says Leandra, dunking a cloth in a basin of water.
Garrett exhales a chuckle and shakes his head. “Yes, the barest indication of intelligence.”
His mother tugs on his arm in annoyance, flashing him a look of reproof. “Let me see this wound of yours,” she says, jerking his arm straight to inspect. She wipes the dried blood off his forearm and then bends to squint at the laceration at his elbow. “Five or six stitches I’d guess.” She wanders over to the larder for a bottle of alcohol.
“Is that— Maker, Garrett your back is bleeding as well!” she cries upon her return.
Garrett cranes his head to look over each of his shoulders, catching a glimpse of deep scarlet over his left. He thought he felt something itchy back there. “Huh. They must have caught the edge of my cuirass.”
“You’re going to send me to an early grave, you know that?” she mutters, pushing his linen shirt up off his back for a look. “This one is bigger. Take it off, come on.”
Garrett tugs his shirt off, peeling carefully where it sticks to the drying blood on his shoulder. He laughs into the crimson stained shirt he balls up for washing. “Take enough blows you stop noticing them, I suppose.”
“Maker, Garrett. You didn’t kill anyone tonight, did you?”
“I don’t think so. Dougal’s thugs are just hired help,” he says. “Probably have families to feed, same as me.” He takes a gulp of tea and pushes the last of a slice into his mouth. “So is it good to see her? Your old friend?”
Leandra is quiet for just long enough that he can tell something is off. “Chew with your mouth closed.”
Garrett rolls his eyes. “You can tell me you know. Regardless of whatever you hope for me.”
“She’ll settle in I think,” says Leandra over the swish of a bottle as she dabs gauze. “She’s been amongst nobility for a long time. It’s made her—”
“—a bit of a snob?” Garrett finishes, turning and squeezing her shoulder.
A new of my Post-Trespasser Mystery fic, In the Hollows of Their Footprints, is up!
Ch. 2 Tabris: "In Peace, Vigilance"
Following the mysterious disappearance of their Arcanist, the Inquisition taps into their contact network to see if it's an isolated incident. It's not.
Small snippet under the break!
When someone gets kidnapped, you’re distraught. You go searching. You find the guards, and you scream at them. Tearing at your clothes, skin, and hair to see them safe. When you’re in an Alienage and someone gets kidnapped, you’re pissed. Because you can’t do anything without risking it all, risking everyone, and you know it.
And you do it anyway. It’s all in the art of not getting caught, in trusting only the people you know won’t fuck it all up. That’s what Sera did. If it were Sarnai, she would have vanished in the dark and armed to the teeth, and she’s confident that was Sera’s first instinct as well. But she chose to go to Adaar first. Because Adaar is strong and Adaar has never steered her wrong before. Sera can trust Adaar with this. And doesn't that say the world about her?
Oh, joy. Following the positive experience I've had with my BG screenshot folder here comes >> Solas in 4K folder << that will be updated (I hope) frequently. Or at least when I feel like it.
Please credit me if you use the contents of the folder in your edits, thank you.
At long last! I have begun publishing my 'distraction fic' Kiss Me Moonstruck, a romantic comedy romp set during Dragon Age 2, Act 2 between scrappy warrior Garrett Hawke and plucky noblewoman Rose Trevelyan. This fic happened when I overheard Leandra Hawke plotting to find Hawke a spouse right at the start of Act 2 and decided to run with it! New chapters weekly or biweekly (haven't quite decided yet) 💖
Fic Summary:
Smashed together in a matchmaking scheme cooked up by their enterprising mothers, Garrett Hawke and Rose Trevelyan are forced to endure one another for a whole week over Satinalia at the Hawke Estate. Rose hears he’s a swashbuckling treasure hunter, as wild as he is handsome and as ill-bred as he is rich. Garrett suspects she’s a brat of an ingenue with a string of rejected marriage proposals behind her. Determined to prove to the other that they could not be less compatible, they quickly find their mothers’ plot might be working better than they thought.
I have loads of art of these two for my DA:I long fic, but not for KMM yet! But this favorite of mine is by @crunchyncrumbly 👇 and the one below is the favorite of mine that I made!
Chapter one excerpt below the cut 👇
The carriage winds from the outer gates through the undesirable part of the city, slowed by restive crowds who can’t be bothered to get out of the way. The unfamiliar livery of their carriage offers no additional incentive; indeed the teeming masses seem utterly unmoved by the finery of the vehicle. Rose counts derisive stares, supposing they’re envious of their fortune, the one passed down through generations. She wonders how they’d feel if they knew that her veins coursed with the same humble blood and whether it might soften the bitterness in their eyes.
“I wish they would hurry up,” mutters Alsatia, fiddling with her delicate kidskin gloves.
“Oh I’m sorry, Mother, are the unwashed masses making you nervous?” asks Rose. “Didn’t you tell me that Leandra lived in these parts before her fortunes were restored?”
“Well it’s not as though she wanted to be down here any more than I do,” retorts Alsatia.
“And wasn’t she a Blight refugee? From a humble life in Ferelden she chose for herself? I’m amazed you ever managed to become friends in the first place.”
“Hush, Rose,” says the elder Trevelyan, drawing her furs closer around her neck.
“It’s true. You can be an unbelievable snob,” presses Rose. “But maybe you weren’t so stuffy back in the day.”
“Polish up that mouth of yours,” she warns her.
“Or what? He won’t make me an ill-fated offer of marriage?” she asks. Alsatia’s frosty eyes land on Rose’s with a determination that matches her daughter’s flippant resistance. “Truly though. Isn’t he some sort of swashbuckling treasure hunter? I’d be amazed if he cared.”
“He’s richer than the Maker and an Amell and you will do your best to make a favorable impression.”
“I thought he was a Hawke.”
“The name doesn’t matter as much as the lineage.”
Rose slumps back and huffs a sigh. Aside from Alsatia’s industrious pursuit of an advantageous match for her daughter, she knows it’s all a clever plot to avoid her father’s family who descends upon Swinley House each Satinalia and treats her low-born mother with thinly veiled contempt. And now they’re off to see her old friend who suffers from a similar affliction: Leandra Amell had famously absconded to Ferelden with an apostate mage. The upper crust never forgets these sorts of things. Rose certainly knows that.
Bethany learns her brothers were lost in the Deep Roads and then receives an unexpected visitor.
Fic Summary:
A traumatized newly-promoted Knight Captain who only wants to keep the world safe from the terrors of the Fade.
A soft-hearted, sharp-minded mage who spent years evading the law.
Maybe they don’t share the same fears.
But at least they're not alone in being afraid.
Or how two people form an unlikely friendship in the worst possible place and change each other forever.
Excerpt below the cut 👇
The letter finds her when she’s cleaning tables after supper, her second week-long rotation on evening chores. The first had been a stint in laundry that she’d been well prepared for. She squeezes and slops the rag against the table, running it up and down in long wet stripes, catching mislaid bits of food in her hands as the templars look on. How strange it is to be watched while you clean up crumbs.
Orsino’s page whisks across the hall without question, a young woman barely older than Bethany. She’d seen her slipping through the Gallows. Bethany’s bunkmate explained she’s not a mage all, but the daughter of a friend of the viscount and she actually lives in Hightown. She presents the letter without comment, but her eyes dart and dodge around Bethany, which makes the mage nervous.
Unable to leave, she breaks the seal over her dripping rag and reads.
Enchanter Hawke,
I regret to inform you that your brothers Garrett and Carver Hawke have been reported dead by expedition leader Bartrand Tethras after a cave-in within the Deep Roads. Their remains have not been recovered. Your mother will be in contact with us regarding funeral services. You can petition to attend with a templar escort if you wish.
You have my heartfelt sympathy,
First Enchanter Orsino
Bethany crunches the letter in her fists, the ink feathering and running under the spatter of her tears. She’d been girding herself for this news for weeks now but it still blows through her like an landslide. A lifetime imprisoned inside this place is nothing compared to losing her brothers. And now both are true.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 14/20
Fandom: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age - All Media Types
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Female Cadash/Varric Tethras, Female Cadash & Male Hawke, Male Hawke & Varric Tethras
Characters: Shae Cadash, Varric Tethras, Male Hawke (Dragon Age), Cassandra Pentaghast, Bianca Davri, Kieran (Dragon Age), Morrigan (Dragon Age), Solas (Dragon Age)
Additional Tags: Starts pre-canon, Outsider POV for DA2, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, slow emotional burn, Friends to Lovers, Regardless of What That Contract Said, Explicit Sexual Content, Comfort Sex, Hawke Ships It, Dubious Spycraft, Remember Kids: the Carta Is Like the Mob, Dwarf Culture & Customs, My Own Dwarf Lore [side-eyes BW], Background Relationships, Skips Through Canon, Angst and Feels, The Emotional Labor Carried By One Bottle of Whiskey, Happy Ending
Summary:
A Carta spy and a jaded author meet and part. And meet and part.
And then there’s a hole in the sky.
Heroes are everywhere, but neither of them really think they fit the bill. They just want some peace and quiet. Guess they’ll have to make it themselves.
Beta’d by Iron_Angel. NSFW will be marked **.
Updates weekly.
Chapter 14 - The Rival
“Well, this is a surprise. You’re the Inquisitor, right? Bianca Davri, at your service.”
That put it into place. Shae glanced at Varric, who had the grace to look embarrassed. She crossed her arms and raised a single eyebrow at Bianca. “The noted Smith in the flesh. You do good work, I’ve been on the receiving end of it.”
“That was one time, swee…” He cut off the endearment before it fully emerged, but both women heard it. Bianca stiffened, just slightly. Just enough to give away that she was aware of Varric’s entanglement with Shae.
“Did I ever tell you, Varric, that I kept the bolt?” Shae asked, looking over Bianca’s shoulder to meet his eyes.
“That was…sentimental of you,” he said, still wary of how this meeting between his former lover and his current one was going to go. Perhaps justifiably so, if she was going to be honest with herself.
When Magister Dorian Pavus' expedition meets unexpectedly with a clan of unhappy Dalish elves, First Taren Lavellan may be the unhappiest among them. Unhappier still to be put to the task of helping to see his quest through. This is the tale of how a fortnight in the forests of the Free Marches can change everything.
Chapter 25: Leader of Elves
Snippet:
While the First began to apply his healing to his wounded fellows, Dorian relayed the truths found in the underground sanctuary to his wide-eyed companion. He told her what the First had determined, bottling the spring up, that they would return with their knowledge to his Keeper and his clan.
Ithirallen frowned deeply.
“Master Pavus,” she began, now an odd thing to call him for a scold, and perhaps she realised it, for she corrected, “Dorian, that is going to add days. Felix doesn’t have —”
And just like that, her seriousness was his. “I know.” Dorian shook his head. “But it is that, or we leave empty handed. And besides…”
“Besides?”
He glanced back, allowing her to follow his deliberate gaze as it landed among her admirers; the healed and previously limping elf had been watching their conversation closely from the moment the First’s magic released him.
“Wouldn’t you like to visit the clan? Perhaps they’ll give you a hero’s welcome…”
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 13/20
Fandom: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age - All Media Types
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Female Cadash/Varric Tethras, Female Cadash & Male Hawke, Male Hawke & Varric Tethras
Characters: Shae Cadash, Varric Tethras, Male Hawke (Dragon Age), Cassandra Pentaghast, Bianca Davri, Kieran (Dragon Age), Morrigan (Dragon Age), Solas (Dragon Age)
Additional Tags: Starts pre-canon, Outsider POV for DA2, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, slow emotional burn, Friends to Lovers, Regardless of What That Contract Said, Explicit Sexual Content, Comfort Sex, Hawke Ships It, Dubious Spycraft, Remember Kids: the Carta Is Like the Mob, Dwarf Culture & Customs, My Own Dwarf Lore [side-eyes BW], Background Relationships, Skips Through Canon, Angst and Feels, The Emotional Labor Carried By One Bottle of Whiskey, Happy Ending
Summary:
A Carta spy and a jaded author meet and part. And meet and part.
And then there’s a hole in the sky.
Heroes are everywhere, but neither of them really think they fit the bill. They just want some peace and quiet. Guess they’ll have to make it themselves.
Beta’d by Iron_Angel. NSFW will be marked **.
Updates weekly.
Chapter 13 - The Pull**
Across the table from her, Varric scoffed. “While I can’t say I’ve noticed extra attention from the Seeker, I can say I noticed your bow arm not drawing as far in that fight. You all right, sweetheart?”
“I’m just a little sore, I’ll be fine.”
“Uh huh.” His tone was dry and she glanced up at him to see his arms crossed over his chest as he watched her roll the shoulder again absently. “Put the work down and let me take care of you for a while.”
The glint in his eye said he knew it was a temptation she didn’t want to admit was working on her. He was half waiting for her to brush him off, every line of him defensive. She couldn’t deny that it would be nice to have someone else in charge, even just for a few minutes. She sighed and tossed the list onto the table and polished off the rest of her ale.
“What did you have in mind?”
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