Heyo friends! This is a sideblog account where I'll be posting updates on/new fanfics as I write them. As of now I'll mainly be writing for the Dragon Age and Mass Effect Fandoms. The fanfics themselves will be on archive of our own on my account 'sumikko'.
Tokyo Cyberpunk: Emphasizes human relationship to technology, identity, psychological transhumanism, and the human-as-resource. In Tokyo Cyberpunk - Capitalism wants to own you.
Seattle Cyberpunk: Emphasizes class analysis through technology disparity, physical transhumanism, and the disposability of humans. In Seattle Cyberpunk - Capitalism wants you gone.
Tokyo Cyberpunk showcases nightlife where clean streets are illuminated by neon signs tempting you into consumerism as a therapy for your alienation. It’s percieved cleanliness acts as a symbol where corporations justify their rulership through the illusion of social progress. The robot is friendly, companionable. Societal problems and capitalist contradiction are silenced and swept away without the common person knowing.
Seattle Cyberpunk showcases a nightlife of homelessness and decay with corporate monoliths on the horizon. The streetlights no longer work, but the darkness is kept partially at bay by the neon tubes of bars where people watch wishes of their youth vanish at the bottom of the bottle. The lucky ones working for the corporations do so with the fear they will be kicked to the street. The robot is an expression of force intended to keep the common person afraid. Corporations do not try to justify their rulership, social problems and contradiction are solved with force.
Summary: After responding to Varric’s call to assist the Inquisition, Hawke promises to return home.
Notes: I don’t know if I’ll be able to finish the rest of these before the event officially ends on the 28th, but I’ll keep posting these in the regular tags lol
Available on AO3
“Promise me you’ll return.”
Fenris had grabbed her by the arm just as she was about to walk out the door. Hawke had been already dressed in full armor; her pack slung over her shoulder. Upon receiving Varric’s letter, they had argued. Fenris had cursed Varric and his Inquisition for wanting to steal her away again, claiming Hawke didn’t owe the world anything anymore. They were done with these major events that threatened their livelihoods, and especially anything large-scale enough to threaten the world, for they had a lot more to worry about now. And surely, there were others who were taking care of it anyway. This Inquisition was a testament to that. Still, Hawke had reasoned that her decision to go would be the right thing to do. She may not owe the world anything, but she owed it to her family to do her part in whatever way she could.
Eventually, they had reconciled; Fenris relenting and understanding her stance. They had said their goodbyes earlier, kissed and held each other for hours, but she supposed that this had been Fenris’ final need for affirmation. Anything that would mean that she would not be lost to him forever.
Hawke had turned and looked up at him with wide eyes, taking in the lines of worry etched into his features. She had then smiled at him, warmly. “I promise. I have you and our little one to come back to, don’t I?” She had kissed him one last time, and Fenris released his grasp on her and let her go.
Tears had streamed from her eyes as she left their temporary home. Tears not born from a fear that she would not return, but rather tears at missing her love and their son, whom she had kissed goodbye while he slept peacefully, so much already.
This, however, is what pushed her to fight hard. The pressing concerns that arose from the Inquisition were not the only things that fueled her drive, but also the thought of her family, and the thought that they would be at risk if this shit boiled over.
Now, several months later, battle weary and yet with newfound determination, Hawke returned to their home. From afar, she could see that Fenris was outside of their home. It seemed he had returned early from his own venture with their son. The little one was not too far away from him, running excitedly towards his father as though they were playing a game.
With her own happiness at the sight full to bursting within her, Hawke broke out into a sprint to close the space between them, a grin gracing her features.
Their son was the first to take notice, his expression bright as he pointed in her direction. “Mama!”
Fenris quickly turned to look, momentarily stunned. One he spotted her, the surprise melted away.
“Hawke?”
When she was near, Fenris took a few steps of his own towards her and lifted her off her feet in a fierce embrace. Once he settled her down, he held onto her tightly until their son was at their side, begging to be held by his mother. Hawke eagerly obliged, sweeping the toddler up into her arms--whom she could not help but notice was a little bigger since she had seen him last. She kissed his little cheek and he nestled comfortably into her, content to be in his mother’s embrace again.
Hawke looked down at him in silence for some time, eyes watering before she looked up at Fenris. Then, she simply said, “I always make good on my promises, my love.”
Summary: Solas reflects and craves for what he’s lost.
Available on AO3
On occasion, during a lapse of judgement, Solas watched Analin in her dreams. The dreams were always of her own mind’s creations, only taking the liberty to make minor alterations here and there to hide his presence.
He never appeared before her, and hardly ever visited her dreams in his human form, feeling that his wolf nature would more seamlessly blend to the natural environments that often took hold of Analin’s dreams.
Solas saw her wandering now in a dense, colorful forest of her own creation. Was she contemplating? Was she lost? Was this a place from her memories? He watched as she stopped by a tree, placing a gentle hand on its trunk.
It had been months now since he had last seen her and he found himself craving her, feverishly, ardently. He craved the delicate line of her jaw, the slope of her breasts, the curves of her waist and hips. He craved her gaze, azure eyes ever bright, eager, curious. He craved her soft lips on his, and the way her silky black hair felt on his fingers. He craved the feel of her tanned skin as it brushed against his.
He craved her kindness, her unconditional love and acceptance. He craved her interest and willingness to learn. He craved her intelligence and open-minded perspectives that kept him intrigued.
That is the least to say that he desired her mind, body, and soul.
Analin suddenly turned from her wandering and looked, spotting him through the trees. She hesitated for a moment and he stood frozen in place, heart dropping. He found that he couldn’t move as he realized that Analin was beginning to walk towards him. The puzzled expression that graced her features now only indicated that she couldn’t have known it was him.
Yet…
She stopped short a mere few inches away, crouching and outstretching her hand as if she meant to pet his head. But as much as he burned for her to reach him, to feel her, to reveal himself to her in his true form and kiss her, to forgo all of his duties for that glimmer of hope in starting a life with her...he knew he couldn’t.
It could never be.
He tensed and drew away from her slowly.
“Please, don’t.”
The soft intonation of her voice is what set him off, prompting him to turn away quickly. He then ran into the forest, leaving her behind in her dream, without so much as a backwards glance.
Summary: Remalas and Josphine sneak away from their duties for one night.
Notes: I was super excited to write this one lol. It was actually the first one I started writing, but only finished just now ^^; Hope ya'll enjoy!
Available on AO3!
Remalas quietly led Josephine by the hand with a wide grin and guided her down one of the empty, gilded hallways of the De Montfort estate. When he snuck into her room earlier Remalas caught her working late, burning perhaps her third candle of the night as she hunched over her paperwork. He hadn’t the slightest intention to allow her to resume her work, despite her many protests. And after a few exchanges, along with plenty of coaxing kisses, Josephine relented and allowed her lover to lead her away from her room.
With everyone asleep, it provided them the perfect opportunity to escape their duties of the last few days. It was an opportunity to be away from the fake smiles, the meetings, the dinners--any and all sorts of engagements that required them to behave in a way other than what they were.
It offered relief.
Earlier that day, Remalas had spent most of the afternoon hunting with the duke and a few of his friends. Josephine had let him know that this was a pastime for Orlesians and often a way in which business was conducted. Although Remalas remained mostly attentive to both the business and the sport at hand, there were times where his mind wandered. It was during one of these wanderings that he found the loveliest spot in the forest where they were and was immediately inspired to bring a certain someone here when he had the chance.
“Where are we going?” she asked in a hushed whisper, struggling to keep up with him in her night robes.
The least he could have done was allow her to change into something a little more suited for this outdoor venture, but she supposed she should count herself lucky that he even let her change from slippers to some proper shoes.
“You’ll see,” he said, glancing back at her excitedly. “You’ll love it.”
Josephine had to admit, she loved the thrill of their little rendezvous already. Her heart was pounding in her chest, reminding her of when she was younger and would sometimes sneak out late at night with friends; the constant risk of getting caught looming over her and adding to the excitement.
When they finally stepped outside, the cold air brought her closer to Remalas and she clung onto his toned arm for warmth. There were a few late night workers who walked past them and didn’t even look in their direction. Did they know what they were up to?
It didn’t take them long before they reached the estate’s stables, which had Josephine looking around curiously.
“Have you brought me to see Ava?” Ava was Remalas’ Dalish All-Bred mare.
As they approached Ava’s individual stall, Remalas snickered lowly. “No, but she is helping us today.” He opened the gate and guided Ava out of her stall. She gave a friendly huff and a swish of her tail as he prepped her saddle.
Josephine watched him work, arms crossed over her chest in an attempt to keep herself warm now that she didn’t have him to hold onto. Remalas took notice and brought one of the woolen blankets he kept in Ava’s packs to her. He wrapped the blanket around her before helping her up onto the horse. Something told Josephine that he had actually prepared for this outing more than he led her to believe.
She attempted to hoist herself up the first time to no avail. And after her second failed attempt to get a proper foothold, there was a chorus of giggles from the two.
“It’s hard to see!” She explained sheepishly.
“Don’t worry. I’ll guide you.” Having no trouble seeing in the dark himself, Remalas helped her climb up until she was sitting on the saddle. And without any effort on his part, he gracefully climbed in front of her and settled in. Leading Ava out in a slow walk out of the stables, he said, “Hold on tight, vhenan.”
Josephine immediately heeded his warning, making sure she had not just a firm grip of her blanket, but of his waist before he took off in a quick gallop. The main gate of the estate was surprisingly open, but she figured that perhaps he had taken the initiative in informing the guards and workers after all.
The chill in the air once again drew her close to Remalas as she pressed her cheek against his back to warm herself. How he was fine in nothing but his riding leathers was beyond her.
The reality was, Remalas thrived in this. The thrill of their outing alone had his own heart racing. To be riding again, to be out in nature, outside of that stuffy estate, he loved it. Sure, he got plenty of this whenever he was on campaigns for the inquisition, but it was a different sort of feeling when he was with the one he loved. Here, with her, he could be himself and not just the figure of legend.
He took them down the long road from the estate towards the nearby forest and later found the path which veered off the main road. This much narrower path brought them closer to the trees and shaded them in an even greater darkness than Josephine thought possible.
The path eventually gave way to a clearing that was noticeably brighter, enough so that Remalas knew that even Josephine could appreciate the sight. It was here where Remalas slowed Ava down to a stop.
“You can look now,” Remalas encouraged, noting how Josephine was clinging onto him so tightly.
When Josephine slowly pulled back, she was in total awe of her surroundings. While she normally wasn’t very comfortable with venturing out on her own like this, she felt safe and in complete bliss when she was with Remalas. The clearing was beautiful, shaded by trees though not so much that it would obstruct the view of the night sky which was clear, dotted with very many stars.
Remalas hopped off of Ava and turned to get Josephine. Rather than guide her down this time, he hoisted her up and brought her down herself, which made her smile. How very gentlemanly of him, she thought.
As she continued to admire the scenery, Remalas made himself busy. He set up a nice little site for them, building a small fire to keep them warm and setting down the remaining woolen blanket from Ava’s pack. It was all so quick and seamless, surprising Josephine. They then sat themselves down on the blanket and sat close to one another, Josephine leaning into him.
“It’s very beautiful here.”
Remalas smiled. “I’m glad you like it. I found it this afternoon.” He paused to stoke the fire a little. “We don’t often get time like this...you’re always so busy. Or I’m busy. But tonight, I wasn’t going to let either one of our duties come in the way.”
“Well, I’m glad you stole me away,” she murmured, turning to him.
He turned to her as well, looking into her eyes. He then leaned towards her and stopped short of a kiss, gently pressing his forehead into hers and closing his eyes.
Summary: Anora prepares for the return of her husband, the Prince-Consort.
Available on AO3!
Anora rarely blushed. Blushing implied that she was easily embarrassed, easily flustered, but that was not at all true.
Still, as with everything, there were exceptions to this. Hadrian Cousland, the Prince-Consort, was one such exception. Anora would have never dreamed that in her union with the Hero of Ferelden she would find an equal in all ways; one who supported her every step of the way and in turn carried his own weight in their ruling of the nation. Hadrian’s passion for his country and countrymen only rivaled her own, and by putting their minds together in the years since the Blight, they had successfully ushered in a golden age for their beloved Ferelden. Trade was on the rise, the royal coffers were replenishing, and harvests were plentiful. Their people were slowly yet surely recovering--a testament not just to the competence of their rulers, but the grit and determination of the Ferelden people.
In essence, Hadrian had become her confidant and most trusted advisor. And only he could truly elicit the rare blush in her.
She would’ve been content, of course, if the benefits to their union had ended at political convenience. Anora had asked for nothing more from him. In this, however, she ended up pleasantly surprised. What began as a union of advantages and shared views for the prosperity of Ferelden blossomed into something more. And that something had her happier than she had felt in ages.
This evening there was to be a gathering celebrating the return of her dear husband from a months long excursion with the Grey Wardens. His position as Warden Commander of Ferelden required his presence just as much as his royal role, after all. She had spent weeks preparing as a result, consulting with many servants and caterers alike so that all would proceed smoothly. She wanted it to be the perfect respite for him after all she had learned. His letters to her had described some true horrors, and others that he had yet to reveal. She would be lying if she claimed she hadn’t grown anxious for his safe return, for his sake, the country’s, and her own rather selfish one. Luckily, he was set to return to her and she wanted to see him before the gathering began, to steal some precious moments with him once he arrived.
Anora waited for him in their bedroom once she heard word of his arrival, sitting on their bed with her hands folded in her lap. It wasn’t long before she heard voices in the hallway, footsteps headed in the direction of the bedroom, and the doors begin to unlock. Hadrian entered the room with a roguish grin on his lips as he saw her.
“Hello, my dearest wife,” he said, closing the door shut behind him. “I looked for you everywhere, but I should’ve known you’d be waiting for me here.”
A small smile of her own graced her lips and she stood from the bed. “I see that you’ve made it back in one piece, my husband.”
“Surprised?” he asked, jokingly, as he slowly began to approach her.
“Not at all. You’ve defeated an Archdemon. I’m afraid there must be very little that can knock you down,” she said, matter-of-factly.
Hadrian chuckled, crossing the final bits of space between them and bringing her into his arms. He then crushed his lips into hers to kiss her, deeply.
Now this, this was something she had only gotten used to fairly recently. Unlike Anora, her husband was more outgoing when it came to expressing his affections, whereas she was more subtle. And although this was the case for her, she still very much enjoyed the attention he gave her. She practically melted into his embrace. Once they drew away, she was quite noticeably flushed.
“Hadrian…”
“Maker, how I’ve missed you.”
“As I you.” She held onto his hands. “I hope you enjoy tonight’s dinner. I spent a great deal of time preparing…”
“I know I’ll love it,” he reassured, giving her hands a squeeze. He then gave her a devious look. “But, what I’ll enjoy more is the time we’ll spend together afterwards.”
She shook her head, a smile still tugging at her lips before she gently shoved at him. “Go on and start getting ready. It’ll be starting rather soon.”
Hadrian gave her a small salute. “As you say, my love.”
And as he turned to prepare, Anora simply stood and watched him for a few moments before stepping out of their room to inspect the progress of the gathering’s preparations.
Summary: After a lengthy ceremony at Vigil's Keep, Minerva and Nathaniel reveal their true feelings.
Notes: Omg I have fallen so behind on these D: I’ve had a lot to do recently so I’m trying my best! I have Day 5 almost done, BUT I was super eager to write this one so it’s out first lol
Available on AO3!
Tonight, Minerva would officially become the Arlessa of Amaranthine. Befitting tradition, there would be an official ceremony beginning with her vassals’ oath pledging, followed by a formal dinner and social gathering. With everything that had come up in the past month since she’d arrived, however, Minerva postponed this for as long as she could. Amaranthine had far more pressing matters to attend to with the darkspawn and the people of the arling that she felt that one night of ceremony could wait. Though as recent events had temporarily settled down, she knew that this had to happen soon, lest she never hear the end of it from her personal advisors.
Minerva now stood at the closed doors leading to the main hall, eyes closed as she took on an almost meditative state to attempt to ease her nerves. She reminded herself that this was a much smaller affair than the Landsmeet of months before. If she could handle the eyes of all of Ferelden’s most important nobility on her, she knew she could handle this.
When Minerva felt ready, she opened her eyes and had the guards open the doors.
“...Warden Commander of Ferelden, and now Arlessa of Amaranthine, Minerva Cousland!”
The tail end of the announcement came from Varel, the seneschal, as she entered the main hall. All of the nobles from her domain were already there and had their attention on her as she walked past them.
Minerva was not dressed in her standard warden uniform, as she had to during most occasions in recent days. Instead, she wore a formal olive green dress with a golden trim, fitted at the body and loose in its long skirt. The sleeves were also fitted about three-fourths of the way down before billowing out at the ends. Her brown hair was half-pinned up with the rest falling in waving locks that ran past her shoulders. Minerva intended to make a statement in this way. The color of her dress meant to pay homage to her family’s heraldry, as it closely resembled the shade of the crest’s laurel wreath, and the formality of it meant to show that she took her noble role seriously, just as she did her warden duties. Judging by the expressions she caught, she felt she had succeeded.
Of everyone in the room, however, her dark eyes settled on one person’s briefly. Nathaniel stood away from sight of most of the nobility, but he stood out to her. Perhaps because deep down, Minerva sought him. His expression was stern and he met her gaze head on. She was pleasantly surprised for she hadn’t expected him to come. Was this a silent show of his support? It might just be wishful thinking. Although they had steadily reconciled in the past month and perhaps even reignited feelings long thought gone, there was still an uncertainty to their interactions. Nothing was spoken of this yet or had been set in stone, leaving room for doubt.
Regardless, these small moments which indicated some mutual flicker of something made her stomach flutter. This lasted for a few seconds before she cleared her mind and prepared for the evening ahead.
***
The oaths of fealty went by smoothly, and the dinner and celebration afterwards went on just as well. She made it her goal to listen to most of her vassals’ grievances, knowing it was only a matter of time before she had to address them in some way or form. Yet despite her best attempts to focus, she often found herself distracted by the one gaze she felt on her throughout the night. And whenever she could, Minerva would steal glances in his direction as well.
What could he be thinking, she wondered, as she returned to her conversation with Lord Eddelbrek. Minerva smiled and nodded as she listened to him express his surprise at her having remembered him from her youth. It went on this way as she chatted with various others until the end of their gathering. All the nobility had either left of their own accord or were politely called away by Varel, leaving her and the seneschal to speak.
“Tonight was a great success,” Varel said, smiling, “I must admit, however, that there are some characters we must pay special attention to...namely Bann Esmerelle, but I am certain that can come with time.”
“I’ll keep tabs on her,” she replied, giving him a pleasant smile, “Thank you, Varel. You’ve been a great help this evening.”
“It is my pleasure.” He glanced over at the one person who had not yet left, gave him a nod and then another nod of departure to Minerva. “Commander.”
Varel strode off, leaving her alone with Nathaniel. When the doors to the main hall closed shut behind Varel, Nathaniel turned to her.
“I’ve never seen half of those people as happy as you’ve made them tonight. You’ve left them positively radiant,” he commented, taking a few steps towards her.
“Is that a bad thing?” she questioned curiously as she took a few steps of her own.
“No,” he said, confidently, “In my opinion, this is a good start to getting Amaranthine to where it needs to be. People need to feel enthusiasm again. They need to feel like they’re heard. And I’m not ignorant, even I can see that this place has fallen decrepit in the time I’ve been gone.”
“There’s a lot of work that needs to be done, that is certain. I just hope I am up to the task.”
Nathaniel scoffed, “Hah. You’re the Hero of Ferelden, I’m certain that you are.”
“So they say,” she said, a small smile on her lips. “I have to admit, I am surprised you came.”
“I found myself...interested in what our new Arlessa had to say.”
“And what did you think?”
He remained quiet for some time as if mulling over his response. Finally he said, “I thought that you are all the things my father was not. And that the role of Arlessa suits you.”
His tone was genuine. Any and all bitterness that had prevailed in him from the start had ebbed away with time and perhaps had culminated to this moment. Her eyes widened momentarily in surprise, but before she could recompose herself, Nathaniel further closed the space between them. He reached for her hand, thoughtfully.
“There was a time when I thought you would’ve made the ideal Arlessa. Do you remember? It seems like it happened almost a lifetime ago, yet the Maker still brought you back here. I look at you now and…” he trailed off and frowned slightly. Almost hesitatingly, he pulled his hand away. “You’ve done well.”
Abruptly, Nathaniel began to walk away from her, but she wasn’t about to let him go. Not this time. Before he could get anywhere, Minerva stepped forward and grabbed his arm.
“Nathaniel, wait.”
He turned back to look at her with a pained expression.
“What is this? Between us?” she asked, getting close to him again. “I want to know. I need to know.”
Minerva had a sense of what might be, but she did not want to fall for a delusion. If there was nothing to be had between them, she’d rather hear it now than later.
Nathaniel looked into her eyes for some time before breathing out a sigh. “...I never stopped loving you, Minerva.”
She hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath until he spoke; her heart pounding in her chest as the implication of what he’d just said dawned on her. Minerva attempted to speak herself, but was hushed when Nathaniel pressed his lips against hers in a kiss.
In truth, there was really nothing she could say. Her own “I love you” was woven into the way she eagerly returned his kiss and embrace.
Summary: Leliana and Thalia take shelter from a cold night in their tent.
Available on AO3!
Their campsite that night was very cold, beset by those winds whose icy chill seemed to slice through their skin. In truth, this weather was not out of the ordinary for a Ferelden winter and was a time for fireplaces to be stoked, thick furs to be worn, and close relatives to sit bundled together to keep each other warm. It was also a time when one might accept the invitation to join a lover in their tent to keep warm, as Thalia had naturally done.
Thalia lit one of the small candles she had bought from a merchant on the road a few days before, giving the inside of their tent a warm light for them to see. It was perfect, as Leliana had insisted that she wanted to do something with her hair. And now, they sat bundled up in thick blankets, Leliana behind Thalia as she braided her long hair with skilled fingers.
“You mean to tell me you haven’t tried braiding your own hair before?” Leliana asked.
“I never really bothered,” Thalia admitted, “A quick ponytail was always good enough for me if I wanted to get my hair out of my face. Or a bun, but not much other than that.”
Leliana tsked, “But your hair looks so beautiful like this. And it is so easy to work with.”
“So I’ve heard,” then she added teasingly, “At least now I have you to fix up my hair for me.”
“Oh? So I am to be your hairdresser now?” Leliana laughed, tying up the tail end of the braid and setting it over Thalia’s shoulder.
Thalia turned around to face her with a grin. “I thought you would like that. You’re always complimenting my hair.”
Leliana shook her head, “Ah, Thalia. You are so lucky that you’re cute.” She closed the space between them to plant a soft kiss on her lips.
A comfortable silence fell between them as they pulled away. Thalia looked down at her braided hair, touching it gently and admiring Leliana’s handiwork. Perhaps she would have to do her hair like this more often, she thought offhandedly, before setting the braid down again and glancing at Leliana.
“You know, I never thought…” she hesitated, only to be encouraged by Leliana’s hand over hers. A small smile crossed her lips. “I never let myself hope that I’d find love someday. The Circle stamped out all such notions. I mean, it was dangerous. You’d be giving the Templars something to use against you or you could both be separated...or worse. Relationships could never last. But then, I left the Circle to join the Wardens and through its trials, it brought me to you.”
Leliana gave her hand a squeeze and murmured, “And I thank the stars and the Maker every day for having brought us together. You mean the world to me, Thalia.”
Thalia responded by leaning in to kiss her again for a few moments before falling into Leliana’s arms for an embrace. She closed her eyes and breathed in the comforting scent of fresh lilies that was Leliana’s favorite. She felt warm, safe, loved--emotions she never thought she would ever get the pleasure to experience. And it was in those conditions, aided by Leliana’s gentle caresses, that Thalia peacefully dozed off.
Summary: Cullen reflects on his feelings for the Inquisitor.
Notes: Honestly I felt like this needed another bit to make it *chef’s kiss* buuut I am hella brain dead and I wanted to just put this out there!
Available on AO3!
Inquisitor Evelyn Trevelyan, the Herald of Andraste.
With such a lofty title, and familial background, one might mistake her for something other than what she was. One might be inclined to believe that she was just another noble caught up in the crossfire of world events which would impact not just those of her station, but all the peoples of Thedas. And yet in the time he had known her, Cullen had seen right through the poise of her noble birth and discovered the humility, altruism, and alacrity which truly defined her character.
She was unlike any other woman he had ever met--or would ever meet. This he knew deep in his heart. And by the Maker had she captured his heart in a vice grip that he had never expected when he joined the Inquisition and later met Evelyn.
But what was it about her that he loved the most? So much came to mind. He loved the way her smile never failed to light up any room; the way she encouraged, rallied, and inspired those around her; the way her knowledge and wisdom, which she possessed beyond her years, captivated even the most studied of scholars that frequented Skyhold. Evelyn was truly a force to be reckoned with.
Cullen could recall one particular evening where he was scheduled to meet up with some of his leading officers to discuss troop movements in Sahrnia. Much to his own surprise he had found Evelyn already there, bonding and laughing with his soldiers. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen them in such good spirits, with such a boost of morale, as they chatted with her as though they were all long-time friends. He had watched for some time from the doorway, gone mostly unnoticed, until one of his officers made eye contact and prompted everyone else to follow suit, including Evelyn. She took no time to dismiss herself from the officers, claiming she would take up no more of their time, before walking up to him with a bright grin. She gave him a pat on the shoulder, a “You’re doing very well, Cullen”, and left him with a set of officers that were refreshed and ready to get to work.
Still, this was not to say that Evelyn was invulnerable or even invincible. Above all, she was human. From time to time, behind closed doors, she had come clean to him about the pressures of her position. What she needed then was a shoulder to cry on when events had gone awry, or when she felt she had not done enough; an ear to listen to her and her deepest concerns. And, of course, Cullen had been there for her every step of the way, and had fallen in love with her all the more.
“--You drive me crazy, you know that?” he confessed to her that night, as they lay together in his private quarters. They had just finished their bout of lovemaking after a long day of meetings, and now he lay propped up on a pillow with her nestled into his bare chest.
To that, he was met with a mischievous smile.
“Hm?” Evelyn traced circles on his chest. “How so?”
“Maker, must I elaborate? You’re just...I can’t…” Cullen struggled to find the right words and she watched him curiously. “You are perfect. Sometimes I cannot believe that you’re mine and yet…”
“--And yet, I’m yours,” she finished reassuringly, moving to gently cup his cheeks with her hands and plant a chaste kiss on his lips. “I love you, Cullen.”
He looked into her eyes and a soft smile crossed his lips. “I love you too.”
Summary: Hawke recovers from her duel with the Arishok and receives an unexpected visit.
Available on AO3!
Hawke’s eyes fluttered open at the sound of her door opening for what seemed like the umpteenth time this evening. Most of her companions had come to see her current state of recovery sporadically throughout the last two days, and she could only guess that this was just another one of them ready to fuss over her again.
Her recent duel with the Arishok had made her a Champion in the eyes of all of Kirkwall’s denizens, but had left her critically injured. For most of the duel, Hawke had actually held the upper hand; her speed allowing her to dig into the Arishok’s most critical points with her daggers enough to begin to bring him down. However, one momentary slip up and the Arishok had managed to stab her through the abdomen in one last attempt to defeat her. That slip up would have proved fatal had she not pushed herself to her limits near the end of the battle to best the qunari.
She also counted herself lucky that Anders was the adept healer that he was, and that he managed to mend most of her injury before the worst were to happen after the duel. The remainder of the healing was now up to her, which was why she was sent straight to bed rest. And here she was still, with her long hair worn loose, the dark tresses fanning underneath her head; clothed in a simple gray robe which lay open, exposing the stark white bandages underneath. Anders had stopped by just recently to inspect his work, and Merrill--who had managed to convince Anders to allow her to watch--had declared that she would actually return home this time. Somehow, Hawke didn’t quite believe her as Merrill proved many times before that she would not go home, the worry simply eating her up.
For that reason, Hawke felt inclined to say, “Merrill, really, it’s quite alright! I know you have a lot to do so it’s fine if you go home. You can come again tomorrow.” The last thing she wanted was for Merrill to continue fussing over her at the expense of her responsibilities.
And yet, there was an odd silence that followed. Hawke frowned lightly and attempted to raise herself enough to see who her visitor was only to be forced back down again by the searing pain in her abdomen. She let out a hiss.
“You shouldn’t strain yourself,” said the visitor, whose husky voice made her heart leap despite herself.
“Fenris?” The surprise in her tone was evident.
Fenris appeared in her field of vision as he stopped at her bedside. The fireplace gently backlit his form and enveloped him in a warm glow. He was not dressed in his usual armor, but instead in his more casual attire consisting of a black tunic and pants. He was the last person she expected would come, considering what had happened between them, but somewhere in the bottom of her heart Hawke had hoped for him the most.
His expression was...well, it was difficult to read, even for her. Most would dismiss it as his usual stoicism, but she could see it in his eyes that there were many more emotions running rampant in his mind. Whether he would act or speak on them remained to be seen.
“What you did was reckless,” he said, finally.
“I know,” Hawke could admit to that.
“All for Isabela?”
“It was more than just that, but yes. Isabela is a trusted friend.”
Fenris frowned. “She betrayed you.”
“She came back,” she responded confidently. Hawke would be lying if she claimed that she was not hurt by Isabela’s initial decision. She thought they had gotten to a place where they could confide in one another. Still, Hawke was not past forgiveness.
Silence ensued for some time afterwards before Fenris breathed out a deep sigh and pulled the chair from her desk to sit himself at her bedside, facing her. Was he frustrated with her? Was it her inclination to forgive? Or would she dare even say that he was genuinely worried for her?
She flushed as she noticed that while she lost herself momentarily to the thoughts running through her mind, he was taking in the sight of her. This wasn’t exactly the state she wished he’d see her in again, bandaged up and disheveled.
Fenris leaned forward in the chair as he murmured, “Let me correct myself. While it was reckless, it was also very brave. And a true testament of your martial capabilities,” he paused for a second, his gaze straying from her injury to her eyes, “I...I am glad you are alright.”
A smile crossed her lips, “You can thank Anders for that.”
“At least the bloody mage was good for something.”
The snippy comment caused Hawke to attempt to laugh, only to be stopped by the pain that coursed through her again.
“Please, don’t make me laugh. Varric did enough of that earlier to leave me sore for hours.” She hesitated at her next thought, absent-mindedly toying with her sheets. “I have to admit, I didn’t think you would come.”
Fenris’ features softened at her admission, and then later ran a hand through his hair in an almost embarrassed gesture.
“...You had me worried,” he said quietly, “I wanted to make sure that you were recovering. The thought of losing you…”
Hawke acted before she could properly process her emotions, reaching out to him now that he was closer to her and placing a hand over his cheek softly.
“It’s alright, Fenris. I’m still here.”
To her pleasant surprise, Fenris didn’t shirk her caress. Instead, he leaned himself into it and closed his eyes, placing his own hand over her forearm as if to hold her there. It was only then that Hawke could now see behind his stoic mask and observe the lines of genuine worry and fatigue that crossed his visage. It showed that this had been a greater concern for him than she had originally thought. It showed her that he still cared.
Summary: Kallian spends an afternoon with Zevran, reflecting on her family and her obstacles.
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“Back in the Alienage, we never really had time to do little things like this.”
They lay in one of the few places yet untouched by the Blight; a beautiful field of vibrant purples, reds, and oranges. The wildflowers were in peak bloom in the foothills of the Frostbacks, prompting Kallian to call for a rare respite from their travels. She knew it was selfish of her to halt their current progress, but after seeing the travel weary expressions of her companions, Kallian knew it was much needed.
While the rest decided to remain back at their camp, she had wandered off into the hills with a curious Zevran trailing her all the way.
Now, she turned her gaze away from the clear, blue sky overhead and instead rolled over to her stomach. Kallian propped herself up by her elbows and watched Zevran who opened his eyes and offered her with a smile.
“To sneak away with one’s lovers?” he asked.
She snorted, “That’s not what I meant. There was plenty of time if you knew how to sneak away--not that I needed to.” Kallian added the last bit as his expression turned devious. “What I meant was to just sit out and...enjoy nature, I guess. But now that I think of it, I don’t think we even had much nature to speak of save the Vhenadahl. And yet, I always wanted to. I dreamt of places like this.”
She picked a nearby flower, a purple one, and delicately placed it in his hair.
“And now it is a reality, mi amor,” he reached for her cheek, gently rubbing his thumb over the scar there.
“I know,” she said, her smile then faltering for a moment as her thoughts turned to the family she left behind, “I just wish Shianni were here to see this. And Soris, too. I know they would’ve loved it.” Kallian placed another flower in his hair, an orange one this time.
“Those are your cousins, yes?” he asked, sensing the obvious homesickness she felt for her family.
She nodded.
“Tell me about them.”
Kallian felt a little surprised at the request, but after a few moments of thought, she began, “Soris is the oldest of the group, and as you can imagine he was always the voice of reason. He was also a jokester--to a fault. His humor was terrible sometimes, but my father seemed to get a kick out of it. And more than anything, Soris was dependable. You could always count on him to get you out of trouble.”
“And what of Shianni?”
Kallian giggled despite herself, “Shianni is the youngest and the total opposite of Soris. She’s headstrong, impulsive, and very outspoken. It’s gotten her into trouble more times than I can count, but it’s some of those traits that I always admired about her. She always stood up for what was right.”
“Hmm, they seem to remind me of a certain beautiful Grey Warden that I know,” Zevran said, pinching her cheek gently.
“You really think so?” she thought on it before pulling herself away from his caress to shake her head. “No, trust me, if I were anything more like them I’m sure I would’ve figured out this whole Grey-Warden-saves-the-world-from-another-Blight thing sooner. If Shianni was here, she probably could’ve just talked her way through the alliances. And maybe Soris would’ve known how to deal with the consequences of some of the toughest decisions.”
Kallian went silent for some time afterwards, sticking another flower in Zevran’s hair as her eyes began to water. “I miss my family. So much.”
Zevran slowly sat up and reached for her again, wiping the tears that streaked down her cheeks, “You underestimate yourself. All that you’ve accomplished since the moment I met you, and with the grace and poise with which you’ve done so, is nothing short of amazing, Kallian. You may not realize it yet, but your sway and prowess in a time of crisis is what historically threatens to make great nations tremble. Ferelden is no exception. I only imagine what changes you’ll bring to this country.”
That made her crack a smile, “Always a flair for the dramatic.”
He took her hands into his, “I cannot help myself. It is in my blood,” he smiled warmly, “As for your family, we don’t know what will come in the future; but as I sense they are of great importance to you, may I make a suggestion?”
She nodded and he leaned towards her.
“Hold onto those cherished memories of them. Let those be your fire when you need it most.”
Kallian looked into his sincere gaze and her heart thumped full to bursting with the love she felt for him. What would she ever do without him?
“Thank you, Zevran.”
“Whatever for?”
“For encouraging me. For supporting me. For reminding me what I’m fighting for--who I’m fighting for--and for giving me another reason to fight,” Kallian closed the space between them and kissed him, deeply.
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