Finally doing a fresh one of these after a hundred years.
➡️ This is my fandom blog, so if you see likes and follows from @calmdownchristina, that's me!
Some other info about my bloggin space:
🏳️🌈 This will always be an LGBTQIA+ friendly blog! 🏳️🌈
🌶️ There might be spicy/suggestive content sometimes! 🌶️
💬 My askbox is always open! Feel free to screech into it about, I dunno, my art? A piece of media you love and want to share? Burning questions about my opinions on Dragon Age lore? Surprise me. 💬
You can filter to my art tag by clicking here
I do not use AI, all of my doodles and scribblings are 100% made by ME (and the occasional help from friends with C&C/beta). I oppose the use of AI, especially generative AI in creative spaces.
I'm lagging behind on FenHawke Week but I wanted to see how many prompts I could do in a week from scratch so what're you gonna do ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
ANYWAY this is a little tiny ficlet for Day 3: "Night Terrors."
I wanted to write about a Hawke who had sacrificed herself in the Fade, but managed to escape. This isn't too deep, and is mostly fluff, but it was fun to think about the timeline in which this would occur.
I Will Be Here When You Wake Again
Word count: 1,016
Rating: Teen and up audiences
Click here to read here on Ao3 or read under the cut below:
Fenris sat propped up in bed, reclining against a mass of pillows as he studied the pages of the book resting in his lap. Hawke stirred next to him in her sleep, reminding him that he should also consider actually laying down to rest.
He marked his page with a scrap of paper and set it aside, sitting up to stretch, and the realization of just how long he'd been bowed over his reading turned to sudden regret at the almost painful tension in his neck and shoulders. He tipped his head back and let the weight pull at the muscles beneath his jaw.
He was just about to get himself settled under the covers when Hawke began mumbling. She'd been an uneasy sleeper for the entire time he'd known her, but her dreams had become especially troubled after returning from the Fade.
Back then, Fenris had thought that she was lost forever, another casualty felled by the abuse of magic. Varric's initial letter delivering the news of her demise had practically destroyed him. The entire order of Grey Wardens was on notice as far as he was concerned, and even now he still hadn't totally forgiven Varric for letting Hawke sacrifice herself (not that any force in Thedas could have stopped Hawke from doing exactly what Hawke thought was right). The only reason Fenris was on speaking terms with his old friend was because the dwarf had been the one to tell him Hawke was alive.
She'd reportedly awoken leagues away from Orlais, somewhere deep within Arlathan Forest, sprawled in front of a shattered Eluvian. She was battered, bloody, and exhausted from her encounter with the Nightmare demon, but hale enough to drag herself through the trees and find shelter in the ruins of Arlathan. She had recuperated as well as she could (which was, as might be expected, not very well) for a number of days, until a research party stumbled upon her while seeking ancient Elvhen artifacts in the area. Naturally, Varric had connections that led back to this group (because the man had connections everywhere), and had gotten the news to Fenris immediately after receiving it.
He didn't even recall the journey to Arlathan - it was just a muddy blur of landscapes and towns that stood between him and the most important person in his life. He ate little, slept less, and showed up looking like a vengeful wraith, scaring the daylights out of the perimeter scouts of the camp where Hawke had been convalescing.
It had been nearly three years since then, but traces of Nightmare still lingered in Hawke's mind, and there was little to be done aside from providing comfort. She had no magical ability and was ridiculously strong of will, so the risk of becoming an abomination was practically zero. Still, the horrors that she had endured over the course of her life gave the demon ample material with which to torment her through dreams. Every so often, it would find her spirit as she wandered the Fade, and use its power to assault her with visions of terror.
Tonight was looking like one of those nights, as Hawke began to toss and turn. A sheen of sweat now coated her brow, and her murmurs were becoming longer strings of words, unintelligible to anyone who wasn't intimately familiar with her history.
Fenris listened and ascertained quickly that tonight Nightmare had chosen to use Hawke's memories of Leandra against her.
He'd learned early on not to wake her outright unless he wanted a bruised jaw; Hawke's subconscious understandably tended toward defensive maneuvers. It's not that he really minded getting socked by a sleeping Hawke, but she'd feel guilty about it for weeks afterward and be overbearingly contrite about it.
The best way to lead her out of a night terror was by slowly and gently calling her back to this side of the Veil. This was a constant exercise in restraint for Fenris, as "slow" and "gentle" were not concepts to which he was accustomed. For Hawke, though, he would be patient and he would be delicate.
Hawke had rolled onto her side, facing away from him, so Fenris gingerly turned to curl around her so that his body pressed flush against her back, and felt the tension in her muscles ease almost immediately. He ran his hand up her arm, her skin clammy under his palm. Craning his neck, he breathed softly into her ear and spoke to her in a low voice.
"Marian, I am here. You are with me. Come home."
The tip of his nose brushed her earlobe, and he pressed a kiss to the soft patch of skin just below it, then two more further down her neck. He repeated these words and motions until she began to wake, finally mumbling his name with a groggy voice.
"Fenris." Not a question, but a confirmation.
"I am here."
Hawke turned in his embrace and buried her face against his collarbone, drawing a few deep breaths and wrapping an arm around his waist. Fenris kissed the top of her head and wedged an arm beneath her shoulders to pull her closer.
"I always know to follow the sound of your voice," Hawke mumbled against his chest. "It's how I find my way back here."
Fenris smiled into her hair, breathing in the scent of her warmth and the faint trace of rosemary from her shampoo.
"I swore to remain by your side," he said, "and I have every intention of keeping that oath, whether you are on this side of the Veil or the other."
"You are very good to me."
"Mm, I only act like this because I am in love with you."
Hawke snorted and small, tired laugh and squeezed his waist more tightly. "Ah, I think just hearing that will help me sleep more soundly."
"Then shall I say it again?"
"Please."
"I love you, Marian."
"And I love you, Fenris."
"Sleep well, I will be here when you wake again."
"I will sleep well precisely because I know that to be true."
Did you ever just feel so lucky for knowing someone you met online? Like.. I was one click away from not following you. I was one second away from never even knowing of your existence.I would never have been this happy!!!...
Got way too carried away on day one of FenHawke Week with the "longing" theme and rushed half of the panels BUT 'TIS POSTED BEFORE MIDNIGHT \( . .)/
One night of many at the Hanged Man during which these two yearn for each other across the table while trying to convince themselves everything is fine.
Rolan & chrysanthemums for Baldur's Flora - bg3 flower zine. I wanted to emphasizes the protection meaning for chrysanthemums by including a bit of Lia and Cal. It was so lovely drawing this piece for the zine and so excited to finally share it!
FIC PROMPTS YAYAYAY. This one for Nathaniel Howe/F!Tabris?
WOW! This one got away from me. I might clean this up and end up posting it to Ao3. Send me your username if you have one, I would love to gift this fic to you!
This came from THIS, dialogue prompt list! If anyone else wants to throw one at me feel free!
Another Joining was finally complete. Zukal stepped out of the throne room following the stretcher that carried the final body, thankfully toward the Infirmary and not the morgue.
“Congratulations, Commander,” Varel said, jotting down final totals in a leather notebook. “I think that’s a new record.”
“I’m just glad we had more live than die this time.” She peeled off her leather gauntlets, tucking them beneath her arm so she could rub the tiredness off of her face. The day wasn’t even close to done, as Varel handed her the notebook with an apologetic smile.
“Are you sure you don’t wish for me to fill out the official ledger for you?” he asked.
“You’re not a warden, Varel, and you’re too indispensable for me to allow you to even try,” she sighed, snatching the book.
“You don’t have to do everything on your own.” Varel leaned against the doorway, glancing down the hall that led to her study. “You’ve more than enough wardens here now to justify promoting a Constable.”
“Constable? Why would I need one of those?”
“Think of it as a second in command. Someone who can share the burden of your leadership. I can only help so much when it comes to managing the Arling.” Varel nodded his head toward someone approaching from down the hall. Zukal turned over her shoulder see none other than Nathaniel making his way over.
“Glad I caught you both. I thought Zukal would be barricaded back in her study by now,” he said, looking down at her with a faint twitch to his lips.
“I think I may prefer to be.” Zukal gathered her gauntlets and notebook into her arms, prepared to set off down the hall. “What do you need, Nathaniel? Can Varel handle it? I’m trying not to stay up the entire night.”
“It’s about the next Deep Roads mission,” he replied.
Varel offered her an apologetic look, but there was a light in his eye that puzzled her. He glanced between Howe and herself as if there was some game afoot. A game she clearly had yet to learn the rules of.
“Follow me to my study,” she said reluctantly.
“Think on what I’ve said, Commander,” Varel called after them.
“Sure,” she grumbled back, waving over her shoulder at him.
Once back in her study, she motioned for Nathaniel to shut the door behind him as she threw her gauntlets down onto a nearby chair. “You’ll have to forgive me for a moment, but I’ve been constrained in this damned formal armor all blighted day,” she announced, unbuckling and shedding off the tabbard and chest plate that had been belted onto her since early that morning. The pieces joined the growing pile in the chair as she tugged her gambeson off over her head.
“I certainly hope that’s as far as you’re undressing?” he laughed nervously.
Zukal glanced down at herself, leather breeches and a tunic the only remaining layers left. “I suppose this is plenty,” she shrugged, moving toward her desk. “So what’s the problem with this upcoming mission?”
“It’s who you’ve assigned!” he cried, leaning over her desk.
“What problem do you have with my assignments? It’s a matter of rotation. That’s the only way to keep it fair.” She leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest, unimpressed with this attempt at intimidation.
“You’ve assigned too many junior wardens to this mission,” he explained. “The only veterans on the squadron are Gordan and Velanna.”
“That can’t be right,” she said, shuffling through the piles of papers that littered her desk. “I’m sure I assigned at least four more.”
Nathaniel easily plucked the sheet of parchment that held her original list and the crossed-out notes that lined its margins. “Maybe originally, but you crossed several off. Did you review this before you turned it in to the quarter master?”
She snatched the list out of his hands and pored over it. Sure enough, there had been more veterans assigned to the squadron, but most had been crossed off. Small notes in the margins told the story. Small requests had come in one after another, and before she’d realized it, she’d removed more than she intended.
“Blight it all. I’m never going to hear the end of this from Varel,” she muttered under her breath, tossing the paper back down onto her desk.
“This isn’t like you,” Nathaniel said, finally taking one of the seats across from her. “What’s going on?”
“Too many tasks and not enough hours in the day, it seems,” she sighed.
Nathaniel picked up the list again. She watched his pale eyes wash over the page, the lines in his brow deepening the further down the page they drifted. “Did you even attempt to say ‘No’ to any of these requests for postponement?”
“I don’t even remember. I was in the middle of doing something else and just needed them to leave so I could keep getting work done.” A yawn forced its way up through her lungs, startling her in its ferocity.
“Why wasn’t I considered for this mission?” he asked, looking up at her intensely enough to startle her.
“I don’t know, I don’t think it’s your turn?”
“It’s been more than enough time for me to take my turn below,” he said.
“Well, if you’re volunteering,” she said, sighing and picking up her pen. But she hesitated. A strange reluctance pushed its way into her ribs, flooding her with an anxiousness thinking of Nathaniel not being there for a time. The Deep Roads were no less dangerous than they’d been during the Fifth Blight. Did she really intend to send someone she considered one of her closest confidants into the maw of the dragon?
“What’s wrong?” he asked, noticing her hesitance.
“It’s nothing,” she lied, shaking her head. “I’m just tired.”
Nathaniel was staring at her. She could feel it, heating her cheeks as he watched her intensely, waiting for her to write out his name.
“Zukal,” he began, reaching out a hand to place it overtop of hers as it hovered above the page. “If you asked me to stay, I’d stay. I think you know that.” She looked up, meeting his eye with surprise. “I think that’s why you’re not asking.”
For a moment, she intended to protest, to insist that it was fine, he could go, and things would be fine. But he was right. To admit it, though, she had to be vulnerable, and she hated that feeling more than anything.
“You don’t have to do everything on your own,” Varel had said.
Straightening up suddenly, Zukal felt incredibly awake as the seneschal’s words fell into place. Perhaps this was what he intended.
“You’re right,” she said, noticing his eyes widen with surprise at her admittance. “I need you. Here.”
Nathaniel suddenly seemed at a loss for words, a flush darkening his cheeks as he tripped over his tongue. “I don’t think I expected—”
“Be my Constable.”
“Your what?”
“My Constable, my second in command,” she affirmed.
“That’s a terrible idea.”
“Nonsense. Who else would I ask?”
“Velanna—”
“Hates most people before she even meets them,” Zukal countered.
“Sigrun—”
“Cute, but no,” she scoffed.
“Oghren?”
“Please, be serious.”
“Why me?”
“Why not? Would you trust anyone else to do it?” she asked.
Nathaniel sat back, in dazed shock, as he brushed his hands back through his dark hair.
“You don’t have to answer now. Take some time to think—”
“You’re right,” he interrupted.
“Of course I am, but what about if you don’t mind?” Zukal asked.
Nathaniel picked up a wooden figure from the desk and chucked it at her. Zukal dodged it, laughing loudly.
“I don’t trust anyone else to do it, you idiot,” he replied. “But now I’m second guessing.”
“Awww, now don’t be like that. Think how much fun you’ll have keeping my arse in line?” she teased.
“Don’t you have work to do?” he reminded her.
Zukal glanced down at the notebook she’d carried in with her, remembering the clerical tasks that still lay ahead of her. “Maker’s blighted arse crack.”
He picked up the book and cracked it open, nodding for her to pick up her pen. “Come on, we can get this done twice as fast together, then get your arse to bed.”
Zukal intended to protest, but the serious look on his face made her stop, a pang striking her heart as she felt a deep appreciation for the man. Truly she had no better option for this role.
“Okay,” she said, picking up her pen and opening the official log book where she would keep a record of the wardens who passed their Joining. “Start from the top.”
ashdklfkd thank you for taking my writing prompt ask!! I wanted to doodle a bit of the dialogue as thanks (and I love an excuse to draw Nathaniel). I hope I did an OK job with Zukal!
We're so excited to announce it's finally here! Gravehearts chapter 1 & 2 are now available for purchase on Google Play!
If you're interested in playing but don't want to fully commit yet, the demo is always available for free on itch.io
Me, reading GTN for the first time, biased for the Gideon POV narration: why everyone is so mean to Gideon why arent they befriending her when she is so cool???
Gideon most of the book:
"Gonna spend my time not talking and standing in the shadows full in black"
