Summary: Most Wardens have a colorful past and usually pleasant company knows not to ask about it. Ashwyn Thorne hides their past like so many others but it’s not out of shame or guilt. No, Ashwyn hides their past because both their parents have titles that have made them the subjects of many children stories over the last 20 years. Ashwyn knew they had to tell their companions eventually but they never imagined Weisshaupt would be where that decision was stolen from them.
(just a little wip I've been working on. I just did Weisshaupt again with Ashwyn and I couldn't help but think "wait what if this was their home, what if the warden was here" so now we have this. Oh and mabari live forever cause I say so! No beta cause I have no friends)
“Ash! Up here!” Ashwyn startles at the familiar voice, looking up they find the Hero of Fereldan and Black Shadow holding a torch on top of a collapsed building; a beacon in the dark.
“Mamae! Pa!?” The sound of darkspawn closing in laces Rook’s voice with panic, “We need a way out of this!”
“Follow the torch, mi cariño!” Zevran calls as he throws it to illuminate a section of wall that Rook can climb up.
“Get to the bell tower, it’s your way out!” Eirwen calls down to Rook as the two turn to something that has them both drawing their swords and running off.
Just as fast as they appeared they are gone again. The sounds of darkspawn, an archdemon, wardens and endless fighting barely drown out Ashwyn’s thoughts of never seeing them again. For two years all they had of their parents were smudged ink and faded memories. After their joining Mahariel became the past and Thorne the present.
“Wait, was that the H-?” Davrin starts to ask.
“My parents- lets go, we have to keep moving!”
For every darkspawn they slay, Ashwyn remembers their mother’s face when Keiran dragged them home two years ago. The claw marks over their right eye still bleeding, stinging with blight that Ashwyn hadn’t realized was there. How their father sat silently by the fire for days as Morrigan tried to cleanse them with magic she barely understood. Ashwyn fights every darkspawn like they have something to lose… someone to protect. They don’t realize where their feet are taking them until they are standing in the mostly intact house.
Everything is as they remember, the single room with two beds meant to sleep three. Rook hadn’t realized till now but the kitchen smells of Antiva. The collection of trinkets and treasures scattered around the house. Even the library nook is how they remember, books about romance, dragons and every publication from Genitivi. The welcome mat hides the burn Ashwyn left when they first realized they were a mage. Davrin and Harding followed them at first but after seeing the family portrait on the fall both stopped in the entryway.
Ashwyn knows they don’t have time. They need to get to the dragon trap, they have to kill a god. That doesn’t stop them from walking out to the balcony to gaze over the rubble around them. Born in Fereldan, Weisshaulpt wasn’t always their home but after an assassin got too close the family moved to the one place the Antivan Crows would not follow. Between the dead plants and forgotten furniture Rook finds a gilded chest. Something compels them to open it. Inside they find their old armor. The armor their mother had commissioned after their joining, the armor they left behind when Varric recruited them.
As fast as possible they change into the steel plates and braided leather. Something about reclaiming it calms Ashwyn and makes them feel ready. They find their companions anxiously waiting by the door. Davrin nods at them as they pass through their old home for the last time, “Let’s go kill a god”
“It could work” Rook tries to reassure themself as much as Lucanis.
“More likely you’ll die trying” Lucanis cautions.
“And we can’t have that now can we?” Zevran says as he steps out of the shadows.
Lucanis instantly goes to reach for his sword as he recognizes the man. Davrin moves to block his path as a mabari lets out a low growl to announce his presence, “Falon!” Rook calls which instantly calms the massive dog.
The mabari wiggles around Ashwyn, his tan fur peppered with grey, “Keeping Pa safe, old boy?”
“Please, these darkspawn are barely a challenge, this mutt was more interested in your scent then my safety anyway”
“Where’s Ma?” Rook asks as they continue to pet Falon.
“Helping Evka and Antoine evacuate… no ones seen the First Warden so it seems they’re listening to her for the moment”
“We saw him, don’t think he made it” Harding comments as she approaches the group.
“Scout Harding, good to see again” Zevran glances up at the group eyeing him with varying levels of distrust and wonder, “Then it’s up to you all to finish this- put that blade away Dellamorte or I’ll remind you how I got my reputation”
Purple flashes around Lucanis but he sheathed his sword, “Arainai…”
“It’s Mahariel now” Zevran sneers, “And I hope you’re better at finishing your contracts than I once was”
Lucanis just nods rather than answering, “Pa… I-”
Zevran takes Ashwyn’s face in his hands, “You can do this cariño, you have your mother’s spirit and my stubbornness” They both smile at one another, “Now go earn your own title” Zevran tells them before kissing their forehead as if they were still a child.
Rook kneels down to Falon’s height, “I need a favor old boy”
The dog listens intently as Ashwyn asks him to watch Mila’s back. The old mabari trots over to the girl who is all too eager to pet him. Holden and Rook share a look before they look back to their group, letting Davrin lead themself and Harding towards the library, as Zevran splits off with Emmrich and Bellara. Rook notices Lucanis sending them an unreadable look before he too splits off with the rest of them.
“Give me another shot!”
“Too late! Back to the eluvian!”
Ashwyn leads their team in the retreat as blight nips at their heels. Lucanis and Davrin dark shadows at their side as Harding brings up the rear. When they get to the glowing entrance way Holden, Mila, Emmrich and Falon are waiting for them.
“Is it working?”
“I hope so!”
“Best odds all day”
Rook stops only feet from the doorway motioning them all to go through before they follow. With one hand on the arch they turn around back all they see is blight so finally they enter. As soon as Ashwyn is all the way through Bellara activates the console, literally slamming the door behind them.
“Holden, Mila- what?”
“Evka led the retreat, any warden that listened should be heading towards Lavendel by now but I needed to make sure the dragon trap actually worked”
“Rook, I can lead them through the crossroad” Emmrich offers as Rook sinks to their knees.
Barely able to catch their breath and with a noticeable shake in every muscle Ashwyn simply gives Emmrich a thumbs up rather than a worded answer. The others are unsure what to do until Falon sits next to Rook on the floor and instantly their leader doesn’t look like they are about to shake apart. Neve finally steps up to usher everyone out of the eluvian room right as Rook hides their tears in Falon’s fur. Another home destroyed by the gods Ashwyn grew up hearing stories about.
When the tears finally stop Ashwyn studies their mabari. His fur is covered in blood but none of it seems to be his own, still a war dog at heart. His royal blue warpaint is smudged and something hangs from the thick leather collar around his neck. It's a rolled up slip of paper that Rook knows is for them.
Dareth shiral, if we all survive this day you will know it and we will see each other again. Ar lath ma, Da’len.
