Hello Beautiful! I'm Jô. A 'here since 87' Brazilian woman who loves video games and writing. Here you'll find all Dragon Age things I love and some of my writing. Mind you that entering my domain, you agree to occasionally see and read some NSFW stuff so 18+.
Some of them are NSFW/Smut/Lemon and will be described as such. Please read the tags before reading to know more about trigger warnings.
I hope you have fun!!!!
Long Fics:
Áine. (Dragon Age Cullen/OFC Áine)
Áine is a mage from Kinloch Tower. She was there during the blight and had Cullen as one of her acquaintances.
She fell in love with him but was too shy to say something about it. Nevertheless, he was in love with her friend Amell and didn’t know she even existed.
A lot happened in their lives until they met again in Skyhold. And for the first time, the templar saw the mage as a woman and not as a charge.
Moon Hair & Fire Eyes. (Dragon Age Avvar AU - Cullen/OFC Moira)
Winter is coming and the Avvars of Falcon Hold need to get ready. The gods decided the fate of the hold and they have to obey.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Moira will guide us on our journey in Falcon Hold. She will be an outsider from the lowlands who comes to the hold unexpectedly.
Although the augur doesn’t tell the hold what the spirits have revealed about their guest, he keeps her close and expects the hold to accept her as one of them. Her mysterious past, the problems in communicating, and the events that led her to them, make the Avvars suspicious of the shaman’s enigmatic decision.
Her behavior regarding their traditions and habits will undoubtedly bring her trouble, especially when the son of the Master of the Hunt will do everything to make her stay there as unpleasant as possible.
Her pale skin, grey hair, and clumsy manner make the Avvars see her as a bad omen and avoid her, making everything about her more enigmatic.
Our time is in my blood. (Dragon Age Cullen/Alma Amell)
Alma and Cullen met when they were still children, and from that friendship, something more grew. Although she is a mage and he a templar they couldn't help but develop feelings for each other.
The Circle may not be the biggest of places, but there are corners covered in shadows which only the ones who know about them can see... and in some of these places their hearts insist on meeting.
Everything is fine until Cullen's biggest nightmare comes true and his actions - although clouded by things he had just suffered - split them apart...
Years after years their paths continue crossing, but will destiny be enough to erase the words which broke their hearts? Or has time given them space to realize what is it they truly feel?
Save me from myself. (Marvel - Bucky Barnes/OFC Lillian)
The Winter Soldier carries on with his mission and leaves a little girl behind without her parents.
The little girl grew up and spent all her life chasing the ghost she saw many years back... in her parents' bedroom... with their souls in his hand.
When the two finally meet again, what will they do? How will they behave?
Will she avenge her parents and bring peace to her mind? Or will he show her nothing is set on stone as she always thought?
Save him from himself. (Marvel - Bucky Barnes/OFC Lillian)
Sequel to Save me from myself.
Bucky and Lilly finally get together after the blip. Still, there are many things they need to go through before they go on with their wedding plans. The Flag Smashers is one of them, but the other is Bucky’s insistent refusal to let Lilly in. Let her know and see all there is of him because he is afraid she will get scared of what she will see. That one side of him will hurt her… again.
This refusal only pushes Lilly back despite her trying to show him that she loves all parts of him. Until one day, his actions make one of his nightmares real.
And Lilly? Although tired of his actions, she still fights to be by his side. Especially now…
that her life is about to turn upside down.
Ipê Branco. (DC - Extended Universe - Rick Flag/OFC Prim)
Rick Flag already has a lot to worry about with the group of criminals at his command. But when an unknown woman named Prim volunteers to accompany them, Rick gets lost in his personal world. Despite the risks of his job and the fear of getting hurt again, it is hard for him to not fall in love with her refreshing personality and to not let his protective side try to keep her dangerous secret hidden. As if that isn’t enough, he will have to navigate the many miscommunications and his own self-doubting before he can answer her question, “Do you believe in love, Mr. Colonel Flag?”
Short Fics:
The seer of life and death. (Wednesday 2022 - Xavier Thorpe/Female Reader)
You transfer to Nevermore, hoping to finally get your philosophy degree. What you didn’t expect was to fight for your life or the love of a talented artist.
Amidst all that fighting, familiar ghosts from your past will be forced to reveal the truth about your gifts. Let’s hope you don’t join them.
~~~~~
All characters are adults.
The fifth son of Ipswich. (The Covenant - Chase Collins/Female Reader)
Your relationship with Chase Collins is far from healthy. He pushes and pulls you as he pleases, whenever he wants it.
Although you hate how much power he has over you, you happily play along.
Little does he know that ‘daughter of Salem’ means much more than the word witch. And being one of them, you know very well what they are capable of doing.
~~~~~
All characters are adults.
Oneshot - Various
Dragon Age:
Cullen Rutherford and :
Sera friendship, Unknown Woman , Alma Amell, Female Inquisitor, Female Reader, Evangeline (detective AU).
if you're a Nathaniel Howe lover like me, you probably also subscribe to the belief that he and Cousland definitely hung out as kids (even if only during summers and whatnot)
I firmly stand by the fact that they were besties/worsties when they were babies and then grew apart, only to reunite and sort out their differences later during their time at Vigil's Keep.
Here’s the AO3 and the link to Áine, Moira, and Asks.
Summary:
Alma discovers Cullen's secret, and they have a private conversation before she leaves.
Chapter 17
Silly man.
Alma opened the door to her private quarters. Her mind confused. Different thoughts swirling inside it.
Despair, care, regret, love. Abandon.
She closed it slowly, dreading the moment she would be alone. When it finally clicked and the darkness of the place enveloped her, she crumbled down.
Her strong façade. The mask protecting her. The shield around her heart. It was all gone.
She leaned on the door and let her body slide down.
She ugly cried. She pulled her hair. She let out a silent scream.
Crawling to her bed, she ignored the pain in her knees and palms. Ignored, no. Thanked them for the reminder that she was still alive. For now.
She didn’t light the fireplace, nor the candles around. She wanted no one to see the little girl again.
In the darkness, only the sure future. The eyes of the many hurlocks, genlocks, shrieks, and ogres on her.
For a second, fear froze her body. From the darkness, a whisper came. Calling, demanding. Telling her to lie down and die.
She fought her body through the tears and got into bed. She covered her head. A flimsy shield against everything. Taking a deep breath to calm her mind, she let all those smells fill her. Calm her mind, heart, and soul. And it finally hit her.
The oakmoss, the elderflower, the familiarity between them. It all belonged to him. Of course it did.
Where was that laughter coming from? It bounced on the walls and shooed the darkness away. It let her body melt into the ghost of his touch. It brought the warmth back. It revived her hope.
A second time it came again. So free, so full of energy. And it came from her.
Alma pressed her head against the cover and breathed him in. She let herself be a young mage again. To be in absolute love and feel happiness.
She took one, two, then three deep breaths. She remembered his touch. His kisses. And let herself be fooled by his promises. She allowed herself to dream again with a future for her and for them. To visit his family, to stand in the rain and go for a swim. To have him for her forever.
She cried herself to sleep.
-----
A knock on the door woke her up. The sun shyly lighting the place, and the sounds of a new day filling her surroundings.
She took a deep breath and looked around. The place was quiet, serene; only the shadows knew what lingered in her heart.
Her soul wanted to stay with him. But she couldn’t. No.
Their heart had been broken once, and she wouldn’t allow that to happen again. How cruel it would be to give him hope of a future that would never be. To see him planning their tomorrow that would never come.
He deserved the world after what he had been through, and how she wished she could give it to him. A home, a family, a bunch of small wild golden curls around the house.
Oh, Maker! Why couldn’t she reach his heart with her hand and take all the suffering and heartache from there? Why couldn’t she make him forget about her and be free?
Why couldn’t she stop loving him?
She sighed and let all regret consume her, because as much as one person wanted something, sometimes it was out of their reach. She closed her eyes and heard the knock again.
“Come in.”
She was heading to the basin when Leliana came into view. “You look like death.” The spymaster remarked.
She would laugh, but all that she could do was smile and nod. “Not that I’m far from that.”
“Don’t say that.” Leliana chastised her after sitting on the bed. “Cullen isn’t much different.” She noticed the way Alma gave her a side glance while she washed her face. “I know you two talked last night at the lake.” She rested her hands on her knees. A concerned look on her face.
“Of course you do.” Alma dried her face and tied her hair in a bun. “What do you want me to say?” She turned to face her friend and leaned on the furniture.
“He loves you.” Alma laughed without mirth, and Leliana waited for her to stop. “And you?”
“What makes you think I don’t?” She tilted her head and shook it.
“Then what’s it going to be?”
“Nothing.” Alma steeled herself for an argument, but it never came. She watched as Leliana stood nodding her way.
“You are making a mistake.”
“Leliana.” She tried to reason, but Leliana cut her.
“I’m not arguing or debating. Not even going to say anything else on the matter. But you are making a mistake.” She crossed the space and held Alma’s shoulders. “Cassandra is ready to leave for Redcliff. There are a few other places on the list too. Someone on the Storm Coast reached out offering help. Take your pick.”
“Thank you, Leliana.”
“I’m not doing this just for you.”
“I know.” Alma lifted her hand to take the scroll, but Lelina gave her a tight hug.
“I can’t do this outside. Someone might see me and get wrong ideas.”
“Like you have feeling, huh?”
“Exactly.” They embraced each other a little longer. “Alma. Come back, okay?”
“Always. But when I don’t, I’ll let you know first.” She smiled, averting her gaze.
“I’m serious,” Leliana said, heading to the door, but stopped before leaving. “I know I said I wouldn’t say anything, but here comes unwelcome advice.” She faced Alma before their new lives began. “Whatever happens from now on is going to be the hardest you have faced. Not physically but mentally. You should surround yourself with only the people you love and Not. Let. Go. What happens after that, happens after that. Weren’t you who said you live one day at a time? Don’t let it be too late. The regret will only be worse.” They stared at each other before she finally left.
Finishing to get ready. She analyzed her staff and, seeing there was no fixing it, she left it behind. Her gear was also not the greatest at that point, so she headed to Harrit. Whatever he had would be better than her current things.
She left the place with a prayer on her lips. She asked the Maker to be by her side, not let her falter, because things had changed; there was so much at stake. So much depending on her, and although she wasn’t ready, she would face everything the world would throw at her because… because deep down all she wanted before she died was to see his eyes one last time.
Crossing the gates, she turned left and had a chat with Harrit. In no time, she was ready.
Seeing Cassandra in the distance, she headed the Seeker’s way. The woman destroyed the dummy ahead of her like the thing had offended her entire family. Out of the corner of her eyes, she watched Cullen give orders around.
A few minutes of conversation and Cassandra left her there while she got ready and called Solas and Varric to accompany them.
Without much to do, she leaned on her new staff and stared at the lake. Memories of the previous night still fresh in her mind.
“Herald,” Cullen called. Already closing the distance between them. “Leliana told me you’re heading to Redcliffe.” He finished reading his clipboard and gave it to the soldier beside him. “I know it’s not an easy journey, but you’d be doing us a favor if you headed to the Storm Coast.” He rested his hand on the pommel. “I’ve read great things about the Chargers, and they could help you out there.”
Alma noticed the shift in his tone and her heart ached. “I’m not the Herald; Alma will do just fine.” She already felt the weight of the days to come. She straightened her spine and turned to look into his eyes. And she was shocked by what she saw.
He was impeccable as he had been during the meeting. Hair perfectly brushed hair, clothes adjusted, but in his eyes? She saw sadness, pain, hurt, and something else.
“What happened?” The tiredness in her voice gone. Where did all that rage come from? “Cullen?” The grip on the staff tightened. The wood almost giving in.
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.” Her voice too loud. She cleaned her face and tried again. In a softer tone this time. “What happened?”
“It’s fine. Nothing for you to worry.” He averted his gaze from her. Trying to hide away.
“Hypocrite.” She grabbed his arm, and when he finally looked at her, he seemed so… fragile. When he spoke, his tone was so small.
“You are going out there,” he whispered, “and I can’t go with you. I have to watch you go and can’t do anything about it.” He closed his eyes before continuing, “You already have too much in your mind. I don’t want to be a burden. So, don’t worry. I’ll manage. I always do.”
Alma was speechless. She stared at him while the words slipped away somewhere she couldn’t get them back. She blinked several times. Her eyes roamed him, searching, until she found it.
The slight tremors in his hand, the sweat rolling down his neck, the dark circles around his eyes. Tiny signs to something so big.
“You’ve stopped taking lyrium.” The worry in her tone clear for anyone who listened. She closed her eyes and shook her head.
“I can manage it.” There was ice in his tone. His features hardened when she looked back at him.
Not believing what he had just said, she dragged him into the nearby house. He never tried to stop her. And she thanked the Maker for it because she would probably slap him. She opened and closed her mouth, but the thoughts were racing, and she didn’t know where to begin.
“Cullen.” She decided on the easiest one. “You’re a fool.”
The way he looked at her was as hurt as if she had indeed slapped him.
“What?” Was all he asked.
“You think that I think you’re not strong enough to quit?” She closed the space between them. Resting her hand on his chest, she turned his face to her when he avoided looking at her. “If there’s anyone who can do it, it’s you. I know you can.” She rested her head on his chest as well. Taking deep breaths. Maker! Why here? Why now? Why when I can’t have him?
Cullen lifted his arms to embrace her, but hesitated for a moment, and she understood. Taking a few steps back, she put more distance between them by sitting on the nearby chair.
She fiddled with her staff. Trying to get her thoughts in order. When Cullen sat nearby and ran his fingers over his hair, she looked at him again and cursed at herself. Why didn’t I stay at Kirkwall? Why didn’t I try to speak to him? With those thoughts in mind, she remembered Leliana’s advice. I can’t drag them down with me. They don’t deserve to suffer more than they already have. Looking at Cullen, she couldn’t stop feeling ashamed.
“I’m sorry.” She said and waited for him to look at her. “I shouldn’t have reacted that way. I’m sorry.” She stood. Ready to leave and try to end everything quickly so she could go away. Flee from everything that made her human.
“You don’t need to apologize.”
“Maybe I don’t, but I will.”
“Alma…”
“What I meant is that I know you will get over this. You’ve been through so much and emerged victorious; this will be no different. I believe in you.” There was a quietness in her being. A certainty in her words. “What I meant is that… I wish I could help you. I wish things were different, but they aren’t, so just be careful.” There was silence between them. Not thick, not oppressor, but the comfortable silence that they had shared so many times before. “Promise me you will be careful.”
Cullen looked at her. Deep down in his eyes, she saw a glimpse of the young templar from the tower. “Only if you promise you will be careful too. That you will always come back.” He flashed her one of his most charming smiles. One she was never able to refuse.
Trying and failing to stop one from forming on her lips too, she hid it away. A chuckle escaped her, and she shook her head. “It’s not fair.” She crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a side glance.
“What isn’t?” Cullen still had the smile across his face. He leaned back and rested his hand on the pommel of his sword.
Alma sighed and rolled her eyes playfully. Silly man. She couldn’t help but think. “That smile of yours.” She looked at him.
“What about it?” He playfully raised an eyebrow at her, and she chuckled again.
“You know very well I can’t say no to that.” She pointed to his face. When he chuckled, she felt her smile growing too. “Silly man.”
-----
For a moment, nothing had changed. She was there with him, and although he wanted her in his arms, he was grateful for being able to steal a moment with her. To see the mirth in her eyes and that playful smile on her face. He missed her but also the simple moments between them. The comfortable silence. The giggles and chuckles.
After their conversation in the lake, Cullen realized that she was hiding something. From everyone. From him. Something so absolutely terrifying that she wanted to keep to herself. To protect everyone. He knew it because her words swirled in his mind - sometimes things get broken in a way that can never be fixed again.
He just wished – just wished she would let him help. At least give him the choice of taking her hand and braving it with her or letting go. But how could he ask that of her when he, himself, had taken the choice from her?
So, he was going to wait. Wait until she was ready to share the burden with him. Wait until his very last breath. Because dying in her arms, with her telling him that she loved him… that was worth anything.
-----
Was it her imagination, or had his smile grown tenfold?
“Well, you haven’t answered yet.” He leaned forward. All of his attention on her. His eyes roaming her face. Worried.
She sighed while running her hand on her hair. “Of course I will.” She watched as Cullen relaxed, nodding her way. “It seems that even if I didn’t want to, we are destined to…” She was afraid to say the words, so she let it float in the silence. Afraid, she turned away from him again.
“Be together?” Cullen said in a hesitant tone.
“Hurt each other.” She didn’t need to look at him to see the disappointment in his eyes. She walked to the door and reached for the knob. “I have to go.” In a moment of fear, she begged him, “Please, Cullen. Take care of yourself.”
“I promised, didn’t I?”
She nodded more to herself than him. A silent confirmation to her heart that he was going to be alright.
-----
Cullen watched her leave, a promise on his lips, and a thousand unspoken things in his chest. Absent-minded, he played with the sword knot around his fingers.
Here’s the AO3 and the link to Áine, Moira, and Asks.
Summary:
The aftermath of their reunion.
Chapter 16
To duty. To people. To love.
Cullen's breath got caught up in his emotions. The moment Alma opened the door, and he saw the soft brown of her eyes, the amber within him, the timid hope he tried so hard to shut down grew and enveloped his being.
In that second it took her to recognize him, that mere second it took him to see her for the first time after a life of regrets, he knew there was no coming back from it. He knew that from that day on he was a lost cause. A love-struck boy gravitating around his love. He chuckled at the thought, and there was just so much he wanted to say, to confess, but all the words came in the form of her name. Even he was surprised by the softness of his tone.
She stared at him, and he saw confusion in her eyes until something clicked inside her.
“Ser Rutherford.”
Why was the place so cold? How could his name sound so strange? Hadn’t he heard it spoken like that so many times before? Then why, Maker, why did it hurt so much? Who had wrapped his heart around their fingers and crushed it? Who had punched his guts?
But more importantly… why was he surprised she would treat him like that?
Josephine and Cassandra exchanged glances. He didn’t need to look to know their confusion was aimed at him. There were so many questions they wanted to ask, but they would have to wait. At least until Cullen’s heart calmed down.
“Josephine.” Leliana waited for everyone to get around the table. “This is Alma.” When she closed the space, Leliana continued. “An old friend…” Her choice of words floated in the air.
Alma scoffed. Loudly. Cullen noticed the way she looked at Leliana with harshness in her eyes before she addressed everyone.
“It’s a pleasure meeting you.” She gave them a small bow. “I wish it were under better circumstances.”
“I wish too, but it is a pleasure meeting you, Alma,” Josephine replied. Giving her a warm smile. “We can still take advantage of this terrible situation and do our best for a better future.”
Cullen, who watched the interaction in silence, noticed how dark Alma’s eyes were at the mention of a better future. He wanted to comfort her. To say it would be okay. But she would never believe that — not from him. Maybe later, when they had a chance for a more private conversation.
“I learned to count only on the day I wake up alive. The rest is the rest and only for the Maker to make plans.” Cullen’s heart stung. “Speaking of that, how can I be of help today?”
Leliana shifted in place. When she addressed Alma, there was steel in her tone. “Alma.” She waited for her to look into her eyes. “I know… I know a lot is happening, but there’s always a future.”
“There is.” She agreed and lifted her hands. “But I was told this thing in my hand is killing me.” Cullen took a deep breath. “It hasn’t gone away after closing the Breach, so I’m living on borrowed time. Whatever we have to do, we have to do now.”
“Alma.” There was that tone in his voice again. It laced his words in adoration but worry at the same time. One that not even his whisper could hide. Not even her indifferent gaze could erase.
She waited. But he only stared — silent, crumbling under words he couldn’t form. So she turned to the others.
“On my way here, I overheard people calling me Herald of Andraste. I would like that rumor to stop if you could, please.”
“It gives people hope.” Josephine countered her. “And we need all the hope we can get.”
Alma took a deep breath and rolled her head on her shoulders. “And what will they say when they learn the Herald of Andraste is the Warden-Commander of Ferelden? A mage?”
There was a heavy pause. So thick it was hard to breathe. In Cullen’s head, her words repeated without stopping. Maker. Warden-Commander of Ferelden. He ran his fingers over his hair. It didn’t matter. He had vowed to protect her, and so he would go wherever she went. Wherever she needed him to be. And his desire to build a home for them back in Honnleath just shattered.
“If they will accept it or not is on them.” Cassandra was the one to break the silence. “You are who you are. The one the Maker has sent us.”
“I think Roderik would strongly disagree with that.” She leaned on the table and took a deep breath.
“We have already dealt with him.” Leliana chuckled. “But there is another pressing matter.”
“There always are.” Alma wiped her face, her spine straightening like a soldier preparing for battle.
And for the first time, Cullen noticed how tired she seemed. All he wanted to do was embrace her, bury his nose in her hair, and only let go when everything was alright.
“Let me start again.” Leliana walked to her side. “This is Cassandra. She is a Seeker and was the right hand of Justinia.” Alma shook her hand. “This is Josephine, our ambassador.” Alma gave her another respectful bow. “Cullen is the Commander of our forces.” Alma looked at him. Her eyes inspected him from head to toes. What is she thinking? After a brief moment, she gave him a curt nod and looked away again. “I’m the spymaster. There’s no need to hide it from you.” Alma gave her a sly smile. “And you—”
“I’m the Herald of Andraste.” She sighed and closed her eyes.
Leliana rested her hand on her shoulder. “We were hoping you would become our messenger. Our soldier out there along with Cassandra. Spread the word that we are doing something to restore order.”
Alma placed her hand atop Leliana’s. She let out a trembling breath and lowered her head.
“I told them it was too early for you to be out there.” Cullen addressed her. He wanted to give her time to properly rest and not be thrown into the fight. Into the unknown. “I have capable soldiers who can help wherever is needed.” He was ready to defend his position on the matter with all he had, but he wasn’t ready. Not for her.
“I’m not a naïve mage anymore. I have done and faced things that would crush a man’s soul.” She looked up at him. There was a seriousness in her words that made him avert his gaze for a second. “Get everything ready and let me know when we’re ready to leave, Cassandra.” She spoke, getting ready to walk out of the room.
“Alma—”
“I will need a better gear and weapon to go out there. My staff broke the last time I used it — so if your blacksmith has a moment, I’d be grateful.” She looked at him with a tilted head. Her arms crossed over her chest. A crystal signal that conversation was over.
As Cullen didn’t want to argue with her. He rested his hand on his pommel and tried hard to hide his worried tone from her. “Harrit is right outside the gates. He is our blacksmith. He is very skilled and I'm sure he will help you with whatever you need.” Cullen watched her turn her back and leave.
“Are you okay?” Josephine asked him. The clipboard and pen in her hands forgotten.
He closed his eyes and answered barely loud enough for her to hear. “Honestly? No, but I will be. I must be.”
-----
It was late when Cullen finished his daily obligations. As his nightly routine, he patrolled Haven and took mental notes on what needed to be done the next day. But that evening his thoughts refused to focus. They kept revisiting his meeting on the war room table and the tone she used when speaking about her borrowed time.
“Maker’s breath.” He took a deep breath and saw the smoke spiraling in the cold air. Was her life so hard that she had given up on hope? Was there really no space for the smallest thought of the future? Of peace?
Cullen ran his fingers on his face, trying to calm down his thoughts and comfort his heart.
She is alive, isn’t that enough? Of course not.
He wanted to see her smile, to hear her laugh. To look into her eyes and notice the weight of the world was gone. That she could finally rest and just live.
Lost in thoughts of her, he noticed, out of the corner of his eyes, a green shine in the middle of the frozen lake. Halting his steps, he turned in time to see her loose hair blowing in the cold wind.
The light coming from her hand set an eerie scene in front of him, and without thinking, he walked to her.
His heart was at his throat. It beat in a rhythm that seemed impossible until that moment. His eyes remained glued to her lonely figure in the center of the place. There was a strange sound in the air. A whisper, a murmur. The anticipation on his skin.
A small crackling sound, and she turned his way. He was close, but the wind blew her hair again. Hiding her features from him. A few more steps and he was sure she would take his breath away. Kill him with those eyes that demanded everything. And nothing.
He stopped in front of her. His hand lifted on its own accord and tucked her hair behind her ear. He let his eyes roam her figure, and without time to lose, he took back his greatcoat and placed it around her. Making sure she was warm and protected against the cold wind. And while he adjusted it, she let his name pass her lips in a trembling tone. One, he hoped, was because of him and not the cold.
-----
“Cullen…” She didn’t mean to. Really didn’t. But the way he walked to her. His curls giving up and blowing on the wind. His strong march and the worry on his face. The way he thoughtlessly – protectively – wrapped her in his clothes and the smell…
Maker, the smell.
It was oakmoss and elderflower and everything she loved about him. It was tea, and late-night conversations. It was chess and stolen kisses. It was comfort and familiarity.
“It’s late.” She said more to him than her. Trying to get him to understand.
“I know.” Did he though? Did he understand that whatever he wanted, whatever they had, was gone? It was late.
-----
Cullen sighed. He looked up at the sky and saw hundreds and hundreds of stars shining. It was late alright. But he wouldn’t give up. Never.
“It’s cold.” He closed the greatcoat tighter around her and rubbed her arms up and down.
“Cullen…”
No, he wouldn’t let her. He embraced her and felt her melt in his arms. Her chest rising and falling. The way she rested her head on his chest plate and her arms wrapped around his hips.
He dove his nose in her hair and was in paradise again. There was nowhere else. No one else out there for him. If the Maker decided to take him at that moment, he would die a happy man. He took one of his gloves off with his teeth and felt her hair with his naked fingers. His breathing trembled and his eyes burned, “Alma.”
She stirred in their embrace. Placed her hands on his chest and pushed him. “You left me.” Her words made his eyes close, and his arms hung loosely by his sides. “You promised and then you left me.”
“I’m sorry.” He still couldn’t look at her. He was sure he would see the face she had made when he declared he wanted to kill her.
“Look at me.” Her voice was so small, so hurt. No demand, just a plea. “Look at me.”
And he did. And he was right.
“I thought you knew how much I loved you—”
“Alma—”
“You never gave me a chance. You hurt, and you never gave me a chance to try and help—.”
“How could I?” He ran his fingers over his hair again.
“Because I’m a mage?” She placed her hands on her chest, and he wanted to hold them. The disappointed tone tearing him a part.
“Maker!” He sighed. “No, Alma. Never.” He took a step in her direction, but she backed away and closed his hands in fists beside him. Wanting to touch her but not being able to. “I distanced myself because of what I said. The heartbreak in your eyes when I demanded the rite.” He turned away from her. Looking back at Haven. “The demon… it—” His words caught in his throat when she held his hand.
“I wish you had given me a chance.” She caressed his jaw, and he let the tears fall. “All I ever wished was to be there.”
“I’m sorry, Alma.” He let her clean his tears. “I’m sorry for pushing you away. For not being there when you needed. For breaking your heart.” He lifted his hand and caressed her face. Noticed the tears rolling down her face as well. “I know things will never be the same, but I’m here now.” He held her arms. He pleaded with his eyes.
“It’s late.” Cullen felt his world crumbling. His knees gave out and he fell to the ground. “It’s too late.” She caressed his cheeks and gave him a small smile. One he noticed, carried all her struggles. All her hurt. He held the fabric of her breeches, terrified she would leave him soon. “Sometimes things get broken in a way that can never be fixed again.”
“Alma, I—” He lost his words again when she took his greatcoat off and wrapped it around him. But they returned to his lips as soon as she took a step back from him. “I'm not leaving.” He looked up at her. “The way you spoke earlier today.” He grabbed his breeches in a tight fist. “You may have given up on life, but I’m not going to let you die. I will protect you even if you don’t want. I will make sure you have a tomorrow and many more. You will live and you will find happiness even if it is not by my side.”
He watched her movements. The way she took a deep breath, and the smoke spiraled in the air. How she took a tiny step his way and gave up. The sorrow in her eyes looking down at him. “Get some rest.”
Here’s the AO3 and the link to Áine, Moira, and Asks.
Summary:
Alma wakes up.
Chapter 15
Cruel thing.
Cullen returned to the chantry with a lighter heart. He knew well what lay ahead of him, so there was no reason to despair.
Getting closer to the place, he saw that Leliana was already awake and went her way. There were many things he wanted to ask her. To know.
How did she know so much about Alma? Were they in contact since that fateful day back in Kinloch? Or did they meet somewhere else? He ran his finger through his hair and sighed.
“Leliana—” He started as soon as he got close enough for her to hear him.
“I know there’s much you want to know, but there are things only she can tell you.” He nodded, encouraging her to continue. “After that day when we first met, I hadn’t heard from any of you until Bea wrote me asking for a few favors, and we met when she was… on Warden business.” She searched Cullen’s face for any sign of questions. “When Bea reintroduced us, we briefly reminisced about what had happened, but that was the extent of it. We traveled together for many days, and I got to know her. We exchanged letters and met again when I visited Kirkwall.” She stopped and let the information sink in.
“Kirkwall.” He said in a soft tone. “So, she really was there.” He looked to the horizon, to the rising sun, and got lost in memories until Leliana continued.
“Cullen…” She hesitated for a moment. “She never mentioned you… She never did need to mention you.” Leliana leaned on her desk. “On our travels, we encountered many people, but she was always so lonely. There was always that sadness in her eyes when Bea mentioned Alistair. The day I finally asked her why, she just smiled and said that that was what happened when the love of your life tried to kill you.”
There were no words for Cullen to describe what he was thinking. Feeling. So, he remained silent until a quiet “I see.” Left his lips.
“And yesterday? When we talked about the prisoner in the war room? When none of us knew who she was? You showed no emotions, only to almost die when you saw her being carried away. I connected the dots. I remembered.” Leliana crossed her arms over her chest and let the silence fall on them. “It was years ago, Cullen. You are a good man to whom horrible things have happened. You deserve some happiness and quietude. Both of you. As I said before, the past is the past and the future—”
“Is what she decides to be. Whatever she wants.” He sighed and cleaned his face with his cold hands. “This conversation ends here.” He gave her a pleading look and left after she gave him a sad one in return.
-----
Alma woke up with a pounding headache. She looked around her and noticed the fireplace not too far from her. She ran her fingers through her hair and listened to the crackling of the wood.
She meant to stand, but the soreness in her body made the simple action a thousand times harder. For a moment, she lay there letting her reality sink in and wondered what would happen from then on.
She lifted her hand to examine it, and her head couldn’t wrap around the fact that a few hours before, it had almost killed her. Frustrated, she let it fall on her chest and felt the softness of the fabric under her touch.
Letting her fingers caress it, she noticed for the first time the smell coming from it and lifted it to her nose so she could try and pinpoint what it was.
It smelled of elderflower and oakmoss, which didn’t surprise her. They were well known for their healing properties, but underneath, somewhere among them, there was something else she couldn’t put her finger on. Determined to get to the bottom of that small mystery, she shoved her face into it and took a deep breath. Once, twice, she stayed beneath it until her headache was gone, and all that lingered was that feeling of familiarity.
She turned to her side and brought it to cover her head. To be surrounded by that small piece of comfort. Letting that feeling of belonging lull her, she fell asleep once again.
-----
When she woke up again, the sun was high in the sky. As much as she wanted to stay wrapped in that warmth forever, she knew it was time to face whatever the Maker had planned.
Getting out of bed, she was slightly startled when an elf dropped the box from her hands. As much as Alma tried to explain to her that everything was fine, the woman ran out of the place like she had just seen a ghost. There was a reverence in her eyes that made Alma squirm in place.
Going to the sink next to the bed, she cleaned her face and, without looking in the mirror, tied her hair into her good old bun. And while she cleaned her teeth, trying to get the taste and smell of the many sleeping nights out of her tongue, she closed her eyes and prayed for the Maker to stay by her side. To make her days as easy as He could.
There was a voice coming from her right side, and she turned to see who was there, but after a thorough inspection, she noticed no one had been there. Spitting in the sink and rinsing her mouth, she heard it again, this time, coming from behind her. And without much thought, she knew what was happening.
Blood.
As black as it could be.
Blood.
Coming from her veins.
Reminding. Remembering. Calling for eternity.
Blood so thick it was impossible to get rid of.
To forget and pretend it never burned its way down her throat.
An eternity of fighting and protecting
Until nothing of her remained.
Just the shell of her body.
The husk of her mind.
The blood in her being.
Blood.
As black as it could be.
Alma shivered and trembled. Shook the calling from her mind and smiled that smile that hid everything away.
Getting out of the place, she was met with a corridor of people. The same people who had pointed their fingers at her. Who were her judge and jury. Gave her her sentence without knowing her.
She couldn’t blame them, though. When something so terrible happened, so unexpectedly, there was always a need to have a scapegoat. And who better than the Grey Warden, whose clock was ticking like the last leaves on an autumn tree?
She sighed and marched to somewhere she would have the answers she needed. Going up the steps, she came face to face with Cassandra, who took her to the chantry, somewhere she called the war table room.
The whispers came back, but she paid them no mind. They had the habit of coming at the weirdest of times. But when her hand burned, and she looked down at the faint green hue shining through her gloves, she frowned. One more thing there, for everyone to see, one more responsibility she would have to carry. But this time alone.
Another burden she would carry along with the blight.
She flexed her fingers and lifted her eyes to the path ahead of her. She had been through so much; what was one more pain for her to feel? There was nothing else out there for her anyway.
They crossed the chantry’s threshold, and there was a change in her being. A subtle little thing that she had almost missed. She looked down at the skin of her arm and saw the ends of the hairs standing on end. The memory of being locked down there came to her mind, and she soon let the feeling go. Paying it no mind.
Cassandra still talked about how people saw her differently, the way they started to call her their savior. The Herald of Andraste. A frown formed on her face. That was another title, one more in the ocean of ones, that she did not want.
A Mage, a Warden, a Herald. Different words used to describe the same.
Danger.
But deep down, she would always be an orphan. One who lost her parents on a horrible night. Someone who was tired of being the protector and wanted to become the protected.
Alma stood in front of the door and did what she always did. She put on a smile. The smile that hid everything away. Just to push the door, and had her whole life changed.
He stood there. How could he stand there? Shouldn’t he be on the other side of the Waking Sea? How could he look at her that way? With pity in his eyes as if she were a wounded animal that was about to be put out of its misery? No, it wasn’t pity, oh no, it was something else, something completely different.
Sadness.
She scoffed at her foolish thought. Sadness? SADNESS? She would have asked him if she could move a single muscle. Or was it time that had stopped for a minute?
One minute of calmness before she braced for the storm? One minute, so she could look at him and see how much things had changed but remained the same?
Notice that despite trying to hide them, the curls fought for freedom, to be seen as the very first time she had seen him? To be touched like the very first time she had them around her fingers?
And what was that? A scar on his lip? When did that happen? Not that she cared because she did not care! Whatever had happened was his problem and not hers. He was the one who left her behind. He was the one who chose that life. Chose to be away from her touch, and embrace, and the safety of her love.
And Maker, why did he seem so tired? Was he not getting enough rest? Were the ghosts of their past haunting his dreams?
She would run her fingers over her face if she could, but time had stopped. Had given her pause to feel the heartbreak all over again. To feel her soul shatter and have no way of being put together again. To remember the cold nights. The times she had desperately wished he would come and save her.
Time was a cruel thing. It was never by her side. Never.
Not in the tower before her Harrowing.
Not in the nights when she begged for another minute by his side.
Not in Vigil’s Keep when a sip changed her destiny.
Not in whatever place gave her the anchor.
Not when the calling whispered in her ears.
Not right before she deeply, thoroughly, eternally fell in love with him.
Not when the clock was ticking and not slowing down.
So, she did what she always did. She swallowed hard and faced her future head-on.
Her feelings were hers and not a parade for everyone to see. So, she hid them away and swore she would never let them show.
i'll defend fanfic for my whole life. like the joy it brings is genuinely transformative and indulgent in a way unique to the genre. it isn't meant for a market, it isn't meant to be sold or marketed. it is born out of such care and passion for a media that one must write and must share it, so other folks can enjoy it to. for no other reason than love and joy. do you know how special that is? especially in our current social and political climate.
You drink poison to fight poison you do what needs to be done and you aren't even remembered for it. Your sacrifice means nothing and it means everything. Grey Wardens inspire you and make you better than you are and becoming one is literally a death sentence. An order for murderers, repentant and not, and society's unwanted, the people who never had a chance and the people who had a chance and wasted it. It can be punishment or liberation, a prison or a way out of one. I'm going to be ill.
