An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
When Inquisitor Hawkblade offered Knight-Commander Celise a way to rescue her lover from the Other, she didn't hesitate. But when the price proves more than she's willing to pay, she's faced with a terrible choice of what matters the most.
An expansion of Daeran's Act 5 quest (heavy spoilers, naturally.)
Realized I wasn’t going to get anything done on my other project until this clawed its way out of my head, so here, have some Asra/MC angst, starring my apprentice Alheira. Set at some point in the recovery period after Asra raised her from the dead the mysterious memory loss incident, before the start of the game.
Pairings - Asra/MC
Words - 550
**
It's her, and yet it isn't.
It's her eyes, wide blue-greens flecked with gold like dawn over the ocean. It's her smile, warm as the summer sun. It's her ringing laughter, that he thought to never hear again. It's her kind heart, always so full for others.
But it's not her gaze that regards him distantly, as if he were a pleasant stranger and not her husband in all but name. Those sparkling eyes do not reflect her sharp wit, that tender heart does not house her courage. This woman smiling serenely at him across the table is a placid facsimile of his Alheira, all of her sweetness and none of her steel.
Asra tries to stay positive. She's improved so much already. They're well past those terrible first days, when she could not speak or feed herself. Even that awful moment, when she had begun to recover and he pushed too hard too soon - when he took her hand and explained what had happened and watched the light in her eyes extinguish like a blown candle - even that is receding like a nightmare in the light of day. He knows now not to rush her; as much as the ache in his chest threatens to break him, all he can do is wait. In a way, it's even fitting. Alheira always forged her own path.
And so he waits, searching for signs she's finding her way back.
Her body recognizes its mate, even if her mind does not. They sleep in the shop’s single bed with a respectable distance between them, but more than once he has awoken to find her curled instinctively against his chest. Asra is always careful to maintain boundaries with her, not to push her toward a relationship she cannot truly consent to in her current state. But he allows himself to hold her, in those stolen hours of early morning, and her sleeping form in his arms gives him peace.
She takes note of the world around them with a keen eye. She chatters amiably at him as they walk home from market, and Asra is content to listen to her thoughts on the people and places they’ve seen. Sometimes she sees more than her subjects would prefer, and turns from recounting her story to catch his gaze with a wicked gleam in her eye. For a moment she is his Alheira again, nearly as beautiful as she is clever.
She regards his magic with a growing fascination. She is happy to sit on the floor beside him and watch for hours, Faust wrapped around her like a opalescent shawl. It twists his guts to see her clap in wonder at simple tricks she mastered when they were children, but Asra gently encourages her, always afraid to push too far. Always, always there is the terror that she will relapse again, that despite it all she is too broken to mend.
But she does not relapse, and every day Asra can sense her growing stronger. He can sense too the restlessness building inside her, see it in flashes of her old independent streak. Finally one morning he sees an opening, and gathers his courage to take it.
“Alheira,” he asks softly, the Arcanum in his shaking hands, “would you like to learn the cards?”
Everyone and their damn superweapons can wait until Safiyra and her husband are properly reunited.
...Republic scum or not, I feel like Lana would have some sympathy for a fellow overachiever in this situation. Acina knew exactly what she was doing when she sent Quinn to press the Empire’s case.
Happy Emperor’s Birthday, everyone! (That’s a national holiday in the Empire, right? Well, it is now). The crew gets in some patriotic R&R before KOTFE blows everything to hell (...except maybe for Jaesa, who’s not quite sure what she’s doing here).
I’m fairly sure the only reason Quinn’s not in uniform is that when your Sith wife buys you a shirt, you wear it.
03 A decision is made and a path is chosen. This time, there is no higher loyalty than her.
Part 1
Part 2
True, post Iokath we know actually KNOW what happened to Quinn while the Wrath was indisposed, but in my headcanon this will always be the circumstance of writing his KOTFE letter.
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