In Peace, Vigilance.

an affiliated with isola radiale blog for the grey warden from dragon age: origins and awakening | not indie friendly

[heraldmade]

the inquisitor can't help it. he sounds incredulous as he speaks over her coughing fit, but there's a smile on his face.

' laughing? you're laughing? '

he did the same, but it's somehow more insulting coming from the warden-commander, who holds no fondness for the inquisitor. still, he doesn't look insulted. perhaps a bit flabberghasted.

then he's already shaking his head again. he feels he should not say too much on the matter. he has known zevran for nearly three months, and they've spoken little about andrale. whatever it is she's feeling sorrowful about on such a joyous day — though he could hazard a guess — is too close to her emotions to feel comfortable discussing.

' the inquisitor marrying an antivan crow? imagine the outrage. i'm not sure this is a door my title could open. myself, perhaps. '

he sips at his drink. ' besides, you've known him much longer than i. '

[oldgodssong]

"There would be just as much outrage of the Arlessa of Amaranthine marrying an Antivan Crow," Andrale points out. She does not take a sip of her wine.

"And I have, it is true, but..." she taps her finger against her glass. "No, I won't bore you with the details, Inquisitor. 'Tis too much of a happier occasion for that."

Andrale looks out at the dance floor, then back to Iloren. A thought crosses her mind, and a teeny-tiny smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth. "You know, I don't think either of us standing here is doing much good. Think we should show these people how Dalish dance?"

An offer, an olive branch of her own. To toss aside their factions for a moment and connect as kinsmen again.

[thiefandlyre]

"I know some lively sea shanties. Thank you for telling me, I should probably go find our hosts..." Octavo starts to turn away. The longer this conversation goes on, the more he worries he's going to say something he regrets.

[oldgodssong]

Andrale is not one for keeping people where they no longer wish to be. However, she does not let them walk away without a parting word.

"You are welcome, and Octavo," she says - a flash of silver glinting as somehow a knife is in her hand and stabbed through a fruit - not even looking at the bard. "Do be on your best behavior. Zevran does not take it kindly."

A warning, and a threat, both in a simple display. She nibbles on the sliced apple she speared and turns to simply blend back into the background of the party.

[blightsbite]

Oh. A laugh! That's a good sign. Whether it's at his expense or not, Vanth isn't sure, but he'll take it. ❝ Yeah, I do! Fiyero's my work buddy. ❞ But it goes beyond that now, doesn't it? After her kneeling with him in Savior's Respite, carefully untangling all the thorns and thistles wound over his small, frail body, or comforting him in the break room after his troubles with Sebastian, a friend from work doesn't seem quite right. ❝ Or—actually, my buddy, I guess! But yeah, we work together, too! ❞

Now begs the question, though... Typically, conversation is a back-and-forth flow. Does he ask it back? She seemed pretty unhappy. ... Well, he'll try his luck. ❝ What about you? You know 'em? ❞

[oldgodssong]

A friend of Fiyero's? Interesting. The Warden nods a little as she listens to the other.

"Zevran is my lover." Andrale says simply as she reaches over to grab a finger food that sits by the punch bowl. "He and I met back in our home, Thedas."

Andrale pauses for a second, wondering if she should really explain how Zevran and her met. Ah, well.

"He had a contract to kill me, and he did try. I just won the fight."

[corvisque]

"i would not allow that to happen."

he says it so casually, and yet there is a finality to his words that betrays how serious he really is. he looks at her with fond eyes, openly taking her in.

"as do you, mi amor." with his free hand he takes one of her empty ones, places a chaste, gentlemanly kiss upon it.

"you are always beautiful, but it is a rare treat for me to see you dressed up. you know how much i enjoy it."

he had once told her that he liked to see her paraded around, and he had meant it.

[oldgodssong]

"I know."

She answers just as casually. It's truth - even if she had caught it herself, Zevran would have probably been quicker. He always had his eyes on her back.

Andrale laughs softly as Zevran places a gentlemanly kiss on the back of her hand. The small smile that settles on her face after the laugh is soft.

"I did my best without Leliana here," she says, a hint of a blush creeping its way onto her cheeks. She remembers what he said to her during the celebrations after the fight with the Archdemon ended.

Her hand gently squeezes his.

"Then I should find the time to dress up more often." She says with a soft laugh. He kissed her hand, and Andrale finds herself leaning in to kiss his cheek as a return gesture.

"I'm glad to see you happy, emma lath."

[corvisque]

as the night and the party begin to wind down, zevran finds himself spending less time with his partner. she is off mingling somewhere with her many friends and admirers, and he is content to let her have her fun. he is halfway through his third glass of champagne. he is still glowing under the lanterns, still smiling, but there is a clear tiredness around his eyes.

the day has been emotionally exhausting. in a good way.

"i trust you have enjoyed yourself?"

he asks this of the person standing next him.

[oldgodssong]

"This is the first party I don't think I had to have worried about being stabbed, so I suppose so." Andrale says as she steps up to Zevran. She hadn't exactly been avoiding him all night, but it was more that she wanted him to enjoy the festivities without worrying about her (apparently, still terribly consistent) gloom.

She's tired, too, but there is a smile on her face. "I did tell your spouse, but you both look radiant."

Her own hands remain empty, having ditched drinking wine after nearly choking on it while speaking with Iloren.

[insatiableluminary]

Kristine blinks, fascinated. She read in a few books as a child about some clans having ceremonial inking, so at least she could nod along while the other explained it to her.

"It's very pretty...none of mine are that important, just some that I had done for fun." She opens her hand and turns it over, showing the rings and lines etched on her fingers, along with simple suns under her second knuckle.

"Did yours hurt?"

[oldgodssong]

Andrale recognizes the compliment. Her eyes look down at the hand that flexes before the woman inquires about her vallaslin again.

"It did," Andrale says, "but the pain is part of the process. After all, our markings are our dedication to the god we've chosen to represent."

Andrale reaches up to touch her own cheek. "My vallaslin is for our God of crafting, June."

She looks at the other's hand. "I think if you had them done, they are important to you. Not all tattoos have to have deep, philosophical meanings. Did yours hurt?"

[credens-just1tiam]

@oldgodssong ❀ SPIRALFES 2026: craft punk

She was no stranger to tinkering and machinery, having learnt how to construct rifle muskets at thirteen. So when she came to one of those machinery classes, Mami wasn't as lost as one would have thought from such a cute-looking girl as, to her, most tinkering followed a similar logic.

& she did want to learn a bit for robotics - not only for experience, but also because living alone for years taught her you never know if you'd need it ( & it really look like she'd need it in this island anyhow ).

Mami's focus on the yet-to-be-assembled tiny robot was extraordinary. When she broke out of it, she turned to her work partner.

‘ If we tweak here, it should be functional in no time ! ’ it was a little cute robot anyhow, almost like a steampunk-ish toy.

[oldgodssong]

Andrale never saw anything like the robot before her. It felt rather silly messing with these little things since the moon.

The young blond was way more enthusiastic anyways, so Andrale is happy to let her take the lead. The elf looks over at her as she speaks.

"Then I'll leave the tweaking to your expertise." She says with a smile.

[blightsbite]

The poor lone soul lingering by the drinks has caught Vanth's eye. For a party as lively as this, she's quite unhappy. ❝ So, uh... The punch is pretty good! ❞ Excellent conversation-making at work here, Vanth. That's sure to cheer her up.

❝ Nice party, huh? ❞ @oldgodssong — oh no ur all frownie and stuff...

[oldgodssong]

Andrale blinks as a mint-haired human (? Their red eyes make her doubt) speaks to her.

Ah.

Maybe she really needs to fix her resting face. There's a soft huff of a laugh from the Warden. How thoughtful of this stranger to try to cheer her up.

"It is. Do you know the couple?" Andrale asks.

[corvisque]

andrale takes on burdens as a man may take on hobbies or lovers. it is something he knows about her. still, it pains him to know she has kept this hidden for so long. that she blames herself for... what? not knowing he was here, when no one knew? not knowing an entire universe apparently existed that was not their home or the fade?

he does not regret meeting his fiance, and he wonders if he should feel guilty about that. it changes nothing about how he feels for andrale, of course. he had loved rinna and taliesen in equal measure, too.

then again, look how that had turned out.

he is quiet for a moment, letting her speak. when her body lurches with her tears, he pulls her gently to him. he thinks about everything he should say. everything he wishes to say. so good with words until he must speak of emotions.

"i have wanted you here since the day i arrived," he confesses. "and yet i also did not want you here at all. i couldn't wish for you to be dragged from everything you knew, from your wardens and your duty, just because i am a selfish man who could not bear to not have you by my side."

leaving her to deal with the crows had been hard, but necessary. he wonders if perhaps she has held that against him all of these years. understandably so.

"you did not leave me alone, amor. you could not have known. i did not know."

he pushes her back so he may look at her face once more.

"i did not know i would live to see a day beyond the contract with loghain. i did not know that i would feel for another what i felt for..." he pauses, swallows down the sudden fresh blossom of pain when he thinks of rinna, in particular. how odd it is, that even now he has difficulty saying their names. "but you saw a man trying to take your life and thought he was worth sparing, that he may one day be worthy of your trust."

he often thinks she made a foolish decision, pragmatically. he often thanks the maker that she had made this foolish decision.

"my feelings for you have not changed. they never will."

[oldgodssong]

She makes a strangled keening sob as Zevran - gently, as if she might break - pulls her to him. Andrale bites on her lower lip to quiet her sobs as Zevran speaks to her. As he confesses.

Still, the wounds in her heart twist. She remembers Keenan begging for her to return his wedding ring to Nida before he died in that Silverite Mine in the Wending Wood. It was a task she took on for a fellow Warden. A Warden she had been trusted to take charge over.

Then she found the wife with another man in Amaranthine, and she could barely understand why Nida decided to cheat on such a dedicated man. Until Nida pointed out that he was a Grey Warden - that she had been taken abruptly from Orlais to come out to Amaranthine with no support. Nida blamed Keenan for being away as to why her heart wandered.

Her fingers dig into the back his shirt as he pushes her back to see her face, as if she's afraid he'll push her away forever.

Zevran says his feelings have not changed. He promises they never will, but Andrale knows that marriage is different. It always is.

"Ara shal'shiral," she says again, a hiccup leaving her, "I do not want to ruin your marriage, or your life. I."

Andrale tries to take another breath, but it's short, as she still is crying.

"I'm still a Warden. The Calling will come for me, in time, and it can't be stopped."

[thiefandlyre]

"That's a very... nice sentiment."

Gods, this is awkward. He would have rather she just stabbed him on sight. Yes, he was not supposed to be thinking thing like that after what he spoke with Till about, but that didn't make it any less true! And it certainly would have released some tension!

"Do you know of any songs they like? I didn't bring a gift, but I could offer to play for them. Perhaps something to dance to..."

[oldgodssong]

"Zevran grew up in a port city," Andrale says - skipping right over the awkward reply. "I don't know much about his people, as he wasn't raised Dalish like I was. I think they would appreciate any tune you pick."

She turns to Octavo. "After all, this is a ball."

[thiefandlyre]

"You don't need to tell me how to perform." Octavo gives her a stiff smile, one that falters after a moment. "There's been a few weddings on the island, at least one other since I've come. I often wonder why people are so eager to tie that knot when our gods are capricious about who stays and who goes. But you can't exactly ask that of the newlyweds, can you."

[oldgodssong]

"No, but I can still remind you." Andrale counters back. She sees that stiff smile and watches it fall. She wonders how many of those she had gone through alone tonight.

"I cannot speak to how you view love, or relationships, but I can speak to the possibility that perhaps they just want to have something to them. For them. Despite what the Stars above throw at us, they found and forged this connection together."

Now she realizes she's somehow started philosophizing like Wynne had. The Warden takes a sip of her drink.

[heraldmade]

the indication of a compliment is refreshing. iloren's eyebrows lift with it as he's taking a sip of his wine, and he has to be careful not to choke on any of it. he's not going to complain about being praised, but he also struggles with coming up with a reply that seems fitting. so he says nothing and nods, almost a thank you of his own.

he's clearing his throat when he realizes she's talking about zevran. then the awkwardness becomes too much to bear and iloren laughs softly as his gaze drifts back over to his lover.

their lover, it seems. ' zevran? i can't imagine he'd let that stop him. ' she's a bit gloomy about it, isn't she? perhaps that's simply the stuff grey wardens are made of. they're somber and serious until they have to charge straight into battle.

he smiles at her, hoping to make his point clear. ' we may still get lucky. perhaps your hahren is right— you're stubborn. '

[oldgodssong]

Iloren may not choke on his wine, but Andrale does choke on hers.

Purely not out of shock, but mostly from holding back a laugh. He said we then immediately pointed out Zevran, and well... she did not know Fiyero well enough. Not nearly well like she does Zevran. Of course, some twist of Fate found this hilarious.

"Don't say that to Hahren Paivel, he'll gloat." She says at first, after surviving the brief coughing fit that followed.

"You perhaps have better chances, Inquisitor." The use of his title is more of a tease, as if she's trying to keep it light, but her face falls a little after. She takes another sip.

[corvisque]

she finally looks right at him, but it is no better than if she were to look away. her eyes flood. gently, tentatively, he reaches to dry them with his thumb.

ara sal'shiral. she had called them that before. he still does not know what it means, but the hopeful, stupid part of his wounded heart clings to it.

"i do not think you would shed tears from looking at me, if i had not done something, bella."

her eyes cast themselves to the floor yet again, and he knows the shame she feels. it is shame she doesn't need to feel, not with him. as if he could ever look at her and see her as any less than what she is, simply because she cries. she has commanded an army, saved a nation, slain an archdemon. done so much more that he cannot even imagine or think of. gave him his freedom.

"tell me what is bothering you?" it is a plea.

so he can make it right, somehow.

[oldgodssong]

He pleas for her to tell him what is bothering her. She does not shy away from the tentative reach to her face as if he could just wipe her tears away.

Andrale crosses her arms over her chest as a sob builds in her throat, suddenly feeling so very vulnerable and naked. Shamefully so. She shouldn't, but she just... does.

He deserves an answer, even if it changes how he sees her. Even if it breaks their love. The next breath she draws is shuddering, as if the tears are trying to keep her silent.

"I left you here alone." She starts, knowing that no matter where this goes, everything will spill. "I was too late. I took too long, and now you're marrying someone else, and I am scared."

Fear is hard for her to admit, but never with Zevran. Never.

"And it is stupid, I know, but I... I thought, if maybe, when you were back we could..." She trails off, a sob actually leaving her as the tears finally fall.

[thiefandlyre]

"No."

Octavo's expression remains guarded, a wine glass in his own hand just so he looks more like he's supposed to be here. It's not helping. He only feels lost. And now there's probably going to be a scene, the only question is which of them is going to cause it.

"I don't know why I came. I don't even really know these people. I just... enjoy weddings, I suppose."

[oldgodssong]

"Good."

The Arlessa places her empty glass down and trades it for a filled one from the table. Her eyes are not on the Bard, but that does not matter. She would rather like to avoid a scene at her lover's wedding, after all.

"Weddings are times for joy, this is true." She says simply. "Though, you probably also should grab something to eat."

[heraldmade]

' leliana and fashion? i would have never known. ' this is nice, easier, to talk of old friends with andrale. better that than their struggles with each other. ' she mostly wears the dark robes of a spymaster these days. perhaps on her outings with josephine. '

for a moment morrigan appears in andrale's voice. the moment he notices he's taken aback at first, given the slight strain on their relationship. but it also makes him wonder— what are his allies and friends doing right now?

if people here are to be believed, no time at all is passing back home. no catastrophes happening without the inquisitor to herald his faction. but he thinks about the last time they were able to let loose like this, to really enjoy life for what it is.

too long ago. there's always something to do.

' not too many. ' he's honest with her, looking into his glass. ' the odd political wedding to visit. i thought about it myself, for a while. '

a wistful thought he doesn't dwell on. ' and yourself? '

[oldgodssong]

"She was not very vocal about it. It took some time for her to even open up to me about it," Andrale replies. There's a sigh. "Leliana and dark robes, who would have thought?"

She glances over to Iloren, curiously, as if she saw any physical reaction to Morrigan's normal vocal tick in her voice. Perhaps she just missed the Witch of the Wilds too much...

"Well making it political is less fun." The Warden comments with a sip of her wine. "At least for all your efforts, you made it worth it though." An almost thank you.

When Iloren mentions thinking about marriage, Andrale gives a rather sad chuckle.

"Once," she says, tapping her finger against her wine glass, "but he is already married now. There is no point in hoping." Twice, actually, but she does not feel like dragging out the wounds of Tamlen to Iloren just yet.

"Besides I'm a Grey Warden. Not exactly marriage material, despite my other stations. If you asked Hahren Paivel in my youth, he'd say I'm a stubborn halla calf."

[oldgodssong]

@thiefandlyre | s.c.

Andrale Mahariel always knows when someone is avoiding her.

It is a skill she picked up growing up in Clan Sabrae. It is a skill that served her well during the Fifth Blight, and it still is a skill that seems to continue to serve her. Be it the nobles she oversaw in her Arling, or a certain purple-haired, grey skinned Bard.

"Octavo," the Warden-Commander speaks, her tone almost cordial... at best. She's holding an empty glass - an excuse to finally find a way to corner the bard.

"Come here to not set anything on fire, I hope."

[oldgodssong]

Eensy little starter call for Andrale for the Midsummer Night Ball! This is uncapped and they shall be short! If you want a reference for what she is wearing, you can look here.