⭐️(if you're still doing these and if you don't mind ♥)
For each “⭐️” I get, I’ll write a headcanon about our muses.
Nobody warned her that the Hero of Fereldan had slender shoulders and fire in her eyes. Nobody warned her, either, of just how wild wild really meant. Anthracite envied her, at first. The dwarva remembered a time when she could do the things the Hero did. Then, Anthracite reminded herself that this was THE hero. HERO. They didn’t tag that ball and chain on someone’s neck just to drown anyone. There was a reason. She watched Leilani as she changed faster than the weather. She watched the masks that slipped over one and the other and the way she threw back her head and laughed. Anthracite didn’t see a woman laughing when she did that. She saw a lone wolf, howling desperately to the winter moon. Despite that, the Inquisitor could not deny it: everything Leilani touched slow-sparked, then smoldered. Hope burned ever more brightly in everyone’s hearts. Even Anthracites.
The first time she hears knife-ear actually being uttered in the same shared air, she’s the first to rise thunderously to her feet in the tavern. But not the first to bloody the fucker’s face. That she leaves to the obvious. In the end, the Inquisitor made sure, very, very, very clearly sure such nonsense was kicked in the bud. The portcullis of Skyhold remained open for two days and two nights so if any other like minded “motherfuckers,” as she called it (While Josephine kept wringing her hands) could leave freely and let the “rest of the adults get on with focusin’ on what’s right.”
She is so ashamed of her own people that she does everything she can to avoid The Hero, despite the many times Varric somehow corners her and tries to sooth her with that damned voice.
“Teach me,” she finally asks, watching her dangle her long limbs over a frightful height, far above the hold’s courtyard.
The elf turned her head, her eyes (tiger, tiger, burning bright) tilted down to the dwarva woman with an arched brow. “Teach you? Teach you what? ‘Elfy shyte,’ as Sera rightly calls it?” The Inquisitor shakes her head. “Nah, nah,” quietly. “Teach me how to reach you.”