Apr 29
. ݁₊ ⊹🏕️
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. ݁₊ ⊹🏕️
by @lottiesnotebook and @librivore42 Fandom: Dragon Age: Origins Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Shianni & Female Tabris (Dragon Age), Nelaros/Female Tabris (Dragon Age) Summary:
A Denerim alienage ballad, inspired by the events of the Fifth Blight.
So raise a cup up to the bloody bride, And drink a toast to the Arl’s dead son. For all the justice he’d denied, He’d pay in blood for what he had done.
AKA Libri and I wrote a song for all the F!Tabrises out there! Could not have done it without her incredible talent for song-writing <3
DAKiss25 - Day 5: Battlefield (Warden Tabris/Zevran Arainai)
Read on AO3
Content Warnings: Blood, Violence, Mild Gore, Death (of the darkspawn variety)
art by @theredtrails
Blood arched through the air as Zevran Arainai pulled his dagger from the hurlock’s chest, blood as black as the foul holes it’d crawled out of, the stench rolling off its skin worse than anything he’d smelled on the streets of Antiva. And despite the disgusting monsters he faced day in and day out, he willingly fought by his beloved’s side, dagger squelching in rotted flesh, each dead darkspawn another victory against the slithering poison that was the blight.
Leila Tabris launched an arrow from her longbow, the head burying itself in the knee of a genlock who’d begun to charge. The creature stumbled, just enough for Sten to take the thing’s head off with a swing of his sword.
A chill went through the air moments before another darkspawn suddenly froze in its steps, a sword raised in a killing blow. A quick dagger to the throat ended the threat, leaving the assassin to assess the next one.
As Zevran surveyed his surroundings, the sound of approaching footsteps made him turn. He barely got his daggers up when the darkspawn spit blood, an arrow lodged in its neck, before it clambered to the ground at his feet, gasping its final breaths before all went silent.
He wasn’t surprised to find Leila standing there, bow raised in the direction of the dead creature, eyes blazing with a fury that set his blood afire. Taking a step towards her, he sheathed his daggers at his belt to leave his hands free to grab her by the waist. Pulling her closer until her chest pressed against his, the stench of battle still upon them, his mouth immediately sought hers, blood singing beneath his skin. Her fingers curled into his long hair, tugging him closer as if there wasn’t armor between them, kisses hot against his lips and if he incinerated in that moment, Zevran would have died a satisfied man.
Leila tilted her head and slipped her tongue between his lips, devouring him with a heat only rivaled by his own, and his fingers dug into hip bones, the desire to feel her skin on his overwhelming.
The sound of someone clearing their throat nearby broke the spell, forcing them to come to terms with the fact they weren’t alone. As Leila ended the sudden kiss, she aimed a glare in Morrigan’s direction, the witch watching them with what could almost be considered a grin.
“’Tis a mistake to be caught unawares in the middle of battle, is it not?”
Zevran met her gaze, refusing to hide his own smile, knowing it wouldn’t work on Morrigan, but that didn’t deter him. There was little better than kissing the woman he loved, but annoying the witch was a decent alternative. “I can’t think of a better time to celebrate life than making love directly after killing someone.”
Sten snorted as if he found Zevran’s words amusing, but said nothing, not a twitch of his lips when his eyes focused on the horizon. Breaking the Qunari’s composure was a victory, a rare occurrence during the monotone of their days. The hours consisted of walking or killing, not necessarily in that order, and jokes broke up the boring parts. So did the sex.
And those moments were the most memorable for Zevran.
Movement behind where Morrigan stood caught his attention and his eyes shifted curiously in that direction.
Without warning, Leila lifted her bow, sending an arrow into the head of a darkspawn who was dragging itself across the ground, attempting to reach the witch, refusing to die even when it was missing limbs. Morrigan glanced at the dead darkspawn, trying to hide her shock behind a frown.
“Perhaps you should take your own advice.” Leila quipped before laying another kiss against Zevran’s lips, a quick thing, and she turned on her heels to appraise the battlefield.
His laughter followed her, his love for her as bright as the sun that crested the hill in the distance.
Welcome to DADWC! For Tabris and Loghain: "we should never have taken you in in the first place."
For @dadrunkwriting
Kalira Tabris & Loghain Mac Tir
Rated G
~500 words
By the time the meeting with the Orlesian Grey Wardens ended, Kalira was fuming and barely concealing it. And Loghain, the one person she had counted on to be as angry as she was, looked more relaxed than she had ever seen him. Ever since getting into a proper set of Warden armor he looked very nearly like he wasn’t carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“How are you so calm?” she demanded. “They spent half the meeting making snide remarks about Ferelden and the other half slandering you.” If they had stuck to making barely veiled comments about her being an elf, she would at least have been used to it. And she wouldn’t have been so annoyed at Loghain for failing to be sufficiently incensed. “’We should never have taken him in,’? I didn’t take you in. You’re an experienced soldier, not a stray dog or an orphan child.”
“You aren’t that angry that they are slandering me,” he said, entirely too reasonable. “I refuse to believe they said anything about me that you haven’t said yourself, and worse.”
She glared at him, but couldn’t argue. She had definitely said far worse when they were enemies. And would probably say far worse about him again if he continued failing to be sufficiently angry.
“This isn’t about your opinion of me, but they are slandering your decision in recruiting me.”
“A little,” she conceded. “If you hadn’t talked me into letting you lie about how the battle went down…”
“A lie I stand by," he said firmly. "Ferelden needs an unquestionable hero, not a disgraced former knight who happens to be good at not dying.”
“I should tell them the truth about who killed the archdemon. Make you take the lead dealing with all this bullshit politics," she grumbled. His arguments of why she should be the one to get the credit for slaying the archdemon had made perfect sense at the time, but those reasons felt a lot less compelling now that it meant extra work and a new set of headaches.
“I seem to recall a duel where you were very definite about getting me out of politics.” He smiled and it made him look younger. “You just aren’t used to everyone noticing you. Do you want some advice from someone who has experience going from a nobody to a public figure?”
“Seeing as this is your fault, it’s the least you can do.”
“Decide whose opinions matter to you and ignore everyone else’s. I’m not angry at the Orlesian Wardens because I already know I don’t value their opinions, not about me or anything else.”
“Careful, Loghain,” she teased. “I might decide to ignore your opinions.”
“And this would be different from usual how exactly?"
Did a cool fancy painterly style piece of art with my three canon Dragon Age protags but for some reason I drew them only wearing some tiny pieces of tunics aksjfnsdgsdh so for now, have these zoomed in portraits of their faces! In order, they're my Tabris, Hawke and Lavellan!
WIP Wednesday
Tagged by @wild-houseplant and I’m going to make it a separate thing from finding the words because that way I get to share more snippets XD XD Up next is one in which I’m trying to pin down just how much Astala knows about the fall of the Dales:
“So, what happened with the Chantry and the elves?” Astala asked.
“Your Chantry must have told you,” Ilanlas scoffed.
“I don’t know much, to be honest,” Astala said. “I know that elves and dwarves have worshipped other beings than the Maker and are thus further removed from him than the shem. And I know that there was an elf, Shartan, in the Chant of Light. Had a whole canticle—that is, a whole section—to himself. But he was erased and all statues of him were destroyed except for one, but that one had its ears cut off.”
Ilanlas shuddered and pinned his ears back.
“I also know that there was once a place called the Dales,” Astala continued. “And that it belonged to us, somehow. And that’s why you are the Dalish elves. Because you come from the Dales.”
Ilanlas went back to staring at the dirt.
“Listen, I know I know next to nothing,” Astala inststed. “But can’t you tell me? Because if there’s something about the Chantry...”
“I am a hunter, not a hahren,” Ilanlas grumbled.
“Who else is gonna tell me?” Astala said quietly .
These chapters are going to be very lore heavy, and I’m still munching over how to get it right. But I like what I got so far. I’ll tag you right back, Plant, for whenever and however you’d like to share something ^^ I’ll also tag @oxygenforthewicked @yukichouji @siriskulksnerding @bumblerhizal @icy-warden and @badartxd for next week or some other time at your convenience. Have a lovely week!
The party slowly winds down in Denerim’s Alienage...
Commission of Cress Tabris and Alistair for @kadaransmuggler!
[Art] - [Commissions] - [Kofi]
Tell me who your favorite hero is without telling me who your favorite hero is. 👀