The memory that stood in front of them was so different than the man they'd met in their own mind. In that prison of ever changing rubble and anger.
He stood tall, his chin tilted up some, fewer frown lines lingering around his lips. His hair was nearly the same color as their own, and this close, Sulahn could see the violet-grey of his eyes. The same eyes he'd gifted them.
The memory looked at them, but he wasn't actually seeing them. It was just an echo, a replaying moment caught in the Fade.
His voice was softer, his words not sharpened or spiteful. There was no dispising edge to his glare. Just- worry. For the people he spoke to, not just the situation at large. Fear, in the knit of his brow.
Sulahn stepped closer, circling him, watching as he spoke to the empty space that held whoever's memory they'd fallen into.
They were so *close* to him, able to study him, learn the shape of his face, the pinch at the bridge of his nose as he spoke.
Near the stairs, Lucanis stood with his hand on his hip, frowning as he and Bellara watched them circling the man. "Rook?"
The call of their name made them glance over briefly, giving a slight nod to show they'd heard. Solas shifted drew their gaze back, and Sulahn swallowed hard, reaching out cautiously, brushing their fingers over the edge of his sleeve, so like a lost little girl it *hurt*.
The memory shimmered at the touch, and they felt their hand fall through the image, grasping into nothing but the lingering sparkles in the air.
"Rook, are you alright?" Lucanis asked, moving forward, his hand brushing against their back lightly.
Fen'Sulahn swallowed hard, staring at the spot her father had been a moment longer before giving a sharp nod. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm alright. Just more freaky fade shit."
My heart was born out of the fire
I lost love a thousand years ago
And still, I can't find her
Now I don't love like I used to
Oh but I've got stories I could tell you, if I want to
- Dark Star, Jaymes Young
Felt like drawing some more Fen’Sulahn, so here we are! And animated this time!
♥: Reacting to the other one crying about something, for Beauty and Marassal because I love them so much, best buds for life.
….I got carried away with this. Warnings for descriptions of a panic attack and a natural disaster. Note, because I’m not cruel, Darla is not dead. Also, if this doesn’t fit into any plans, feel to just view this as an AU.
Marassal sips his peppermint tea leisurely, letting it warmhim and calm him. The anxiety of preparing his district for the lady Fen’Sulahn’smother’s visit has been weighing heavily on him and this is the first time inover two months he has been able to simply sit down and take a minute forhimself. Everything must be perfect, there are rumors that Fen’Sulahn and Mythalhave not exactly been seeing eye-to-eye on some matter, and the tension hasinevitably filtered down into the lower ranks.
Hence Marassal’s need for peppermint tea.
He is only halfway through his cup when the ground begins toshake violently. Marassal stands quickly despite the shifting earth and usherspeople inside, grabbing several guards to help him create a stable barrier. Achild starts to cry, clinging to her mother’s skirts as the building aroundthem heaves violently. The ground itself moves and breaks in the street, peoplescream and run in all directions. Barriers go up, the alarm goes off, and inthe distance, he sees a building slowly descend. Dust floods the streets whilethe ground continues to convulse.
“Are we being attacked?”
“What’s going on?!”
“It’s the Nameless!”
The people cry around him, and he struggles to think pastthe heavy drum of his heart. Think, think, think!
“Earthquakes can be natural phenomena!” He says suddenly,not entirely convinced himself, “there is no need to panic! Please stay calm.”He returns his focus to his portion of the barrier and tries to not panichimself.
This can’t be real, this can’t be happening!
As suddenly it started, it ends. The buildings groan at theeffort to remain standing but no tremors come after a long moment. Marassal andthe guards cautiously let their barrier down.
“We need to start evacuations to the main palace, it’sreinforced so you should be safe there. If not, there are eluvians that cantake everyone to other cities if need be. Everyone! Listen, we are heading tothe palace, it is not safe yet to go to your homes.” He catches his breath andturns to the guards, their faces serious and concerned. Questions start to fly onlyfor him to quickly say that he too has little idea of what has happened.
Could it be an attack? Yes, it’s possible, but it’s alsovery possible it’s just a natural earthquake. Could it be an accident? Yes, itcould. There are too many explanations to justify panicking about a singularone…but that also means that there is little reason to not panic at all.
Marassal and the guards begin the process of herding thecitizens towards Fen’Sulahn’s palace, collecting people as they go. He givesinstructions to guards, acting as their temporary captain as manager for thedistrict, and since none of them have received orders from the captain.
“Get people to the palace! Search buildings to make sure you’regetting everyone!” He orders. The guards nod and begin to go search for people,naturally dividing into task forces – mainly into rescue and escort teams. Thealarms are still going off, hounds are howling and some of the larger ones havetheir people on their backs, running toward the palace.
The little girl in Marassal’s group is crying still, even asshe clings to her mother.
Not much farther, thankfully.
When they finally reach the palace, Marassal quickly usherseveryone inside, commanding the guards to raise barriers up and to continue escortingpeople to the safest parts of the palace.
“Send word to Fen’Sulahn immediately!”
“I am here! What happened?!” His lady strides throughquickly from a wing and he bows fast before explaining.
“An earthquake of some sort, a building collapsed, I’veordered the guards to evacuate everyone to the palace and through the Eluviansto other cities if need be.” He follows her out to the great doors, stillshaking but he will keep with this, he has a responsibility. She nods and isabout to reply when another tremor rocks through the city.
“Protect Fen’Sulahn!” The guards call but Marassal isalready bringing a barrier up around them. Thankfully, the tremor is shorterand weaker than the main quake from earlier, and the palace, as Marassal had promised,does not budge.
“Good work. You! Gather my troops for search and rescue. Marassal,remain here and organize evacuation efforts, send people to other cities – but notto Arlathan! If this is Nameless, they will be searching for a way to Arlathan!To smaller cities.”
“My lady, it is not safe for you here,” one of the guardsprotests.
“I have been on battlefields much deadlier than this, worry forthe People, not me.” And with that word, she shifts into her great wolf formand runs down to the city in her own rescue efforts.
Marassal takes a breath and rushes into the palace, quickly prioritizingthose who need to be evacuated first. The little girl and her mother, he needsto get them to safety. He needs to get them allto safety. He sends each group through with two guards, making sure tochoose Fen’Sulahn’s lesser known cities, places where the Nameless are lesslikely to target.
More people start to pour in and he does his best to divvy everyoneup accordingly. The palace has four main eluvians, that means he can have eachone open to a different city for evacuation. He gets the guards to set up arotation and after the first few groups, he stops sending guards in, hopefullyassuming every is safe.
Another tremor shakes the city, and even in the palace theycan hear the groaning of the earth, the sounds of the city shaking echoes throughthe stoned hallways like a beast roaring announcing its arrival.
There are wards, weare safe, Marassal must remind himself, even as everyone gasps, a fewscream, many sob in terror. Stay calm,stay calm, you’re in charge.
“Stop! Healers coming through!” One of the guards calls fromone of the eluvians.
“Good! Everyone, hunker down for a moment!” Marassal shoutsfrom his position overlooking the mass of people waiting to be evacuated.
Healers rush through the nearest eluvian and Marassal pointsto where the wounded are being directed, half of the group heads in thatdirection while the rest of them head out into the city. Another eluvian linepauses while a contingent of troops barrel through.
Marassal tries not to think about how he hasn’t seen many ofhis friends. Some make sense, they’re most likely aiding in the recovery efforts,but others…
Where is Beauty?
But then the lines resume, and he is distracted by usheringpeople into the correct lanes. It’s mercifully distracting, even if it doesincrease his sense of impending danger and doom. He throws himself into the work,anxiety and worry increasing with time, until he looks around to see…no one.
“That’s everyone!” A guard reports after hours and hours ofwork.
“What?” He breathes as the guard takes Marassal’s arm toguide him through an eluvian.
“Those who could be evacuated, have been. Fen’Sulahn isstill conducting her investigation, it’s time to go, Marassal.”
“No, that can’t be everyone! Where…where…” but he doesn’tget a chance to finish his question as he is practically shoved through themirror. He reaches the other side, safely in one of Fen’Sulahn’s smallerpalaces in a city that is mostly military base.
His chest heaves and aches, his arms beginning to tremble.No, no, this is wrong. Where is Beauty?
After a moment, the guard taps his shoulder and he realizeseveryone is looking to him. Why? What can he do? This…he wasn’t trained for this! Crisis management is not hisforte, they’re all lucky he’s gotten them this far.
Marassal swallows and tries to calm his hands and heartbefore speaking, “Our lady is still investigating. I have no word of the cause.Everyone who could be evacuated, has been. We are to stay here. I…will – is therea city manager here?” He asks. His people need food, bedding, temporary livingnecessities.
“Here, sir, Hithril, here to help.” A robust elf approacheshim, and shakes his hand but he is so wound up he has trouble not jerking hishand back in overwhelming sensation. He nods, steeling himself to continue,even as his body tries to stop.
“Marassal. The people will need healing, food, drink, placesto rest –
“It’s already being taken care of; the evacuees are beingdirected to the great rooms of the palace and food is being brought up from themarketplace. The city’s healers are already here, working on those most inneed.” Hithril says, leading Marassal through the palace where people are beingdirected. The great hall is where most have been set up, while individual bedroomshave been turned into centers for the healers. The kitchens are alight withactivity to start creating enough food for the demand.
More time passes as he is thrown into more work of managingeveryone, keeping their fears and concerns low even as his own willpower isstretched far beyond his limit. Communications start to arrive with missivesfrom troops, reports of the dead, but so far, no foul-play has been detected,though the investigation is ongoing.
Beauty is not on the list of dead. A small comfort.
It is late when all the fires have been put out. No one inhis group has died, and word from the other cities reports the same. They’realive. They’re all alive. Good, that’s good, he can…stop. It is all he can doto find a small, quiet, secluded room before he collapses to the floor, greatsobs wracking his body. Breathing becomes staggered as all the fear and paniche’s been shoving to the side bludgeons him with built up force.
Marassal curls in on himself, terrified and paralyzed allthe same.
Beauty is missing. Darla, his beloved hound, was at thegroomers, getting shampooed and pampered. They’re missing and there is nothing more he can do.
The filth and the grime feel like they weigh him down,pressing him closing to the floor as he tries to reconcile all the fear in him.But it is time, not…not anything else that eventually has him moving to a moresitting position, leaning against the wall, crying instead of sobbing. Theemotions around him are thick and turbulent, polluting the entirety of theroom. It is better though, better than the immense crushing sensation he hadfelt.
It is, of course, at this precise moment, when he is stillcrying and a mess that the doorcreeks open.
“Marassal?”
That voice, he knows that voice!
“Beauty?” He asks in disbelief, voice cracking with his cries.The door opens more and yes it’sBeauty! With little Gra’Mi at his feet! None of them looking worse for wear,miraculously.
“Marassal,” Beauty says, collapsing next to next Marassal,pulling him close. Relief floods through Marassal as he presses as closely toBeauty as he can, burying his face into Beauty’s hair. He cries and feels, unableto disguise or hold anything back. Beauty just holds Marassal tight, his ownfears and relief mingling with Marassal’s.
“I was with Fen’Sulahn today, she had a meeting with hermother. I had to stay to placate while Fen’Sulahn returned to Adahlan. I couldbarely keep calm when I heard it was yourdistrict.”
Beauty is untouched then, safe all the way in Arlathan allday while Marassal fretted and stressed to get everyone safe.
“I thought…I thought,” he stammers. Beauty smooths Marassal’shair back, softly cooing at him.
“I know, I thought so too.”
Marassal doesn’t know how long they stay like that, holding ontoeach other simply to reassure that the other is safe and unharmed. Marassal isdusty and sweaty and none to pleasant to smell, but he is undamaged. Beautystill smells like his favorite perfume, his clothes are still soft, even ifthey are slightly rumpled form the day.
His breathing begins to regulate itself, his heartrate slows,and eventually, Marassal finds the ability to stand and move to the bed. Beautyfollows him and they end up wrapped together on the bed as well, unable to letgo of the other’s comfort just yet.
“Where’s Darla?” Beauty asks softly. Well, perhaps Marassalis not done crying for the evening.
After a stupid amount of hmming and haaing, I have my baby all geared up and ready to save their dad from the consequences of his own actions.
Probably won't post this one up for other people, cause it's specific to their backstory and design, but hey. Thought I'd share some pics at least.
Guess who learned how to make a mod just for this.
The proportions aren't exactly what I want, but honestly? Good the fuck enough right now. It took more than four hours and was a nightmare, I'm not going to keep messing with it when it's close enough.
Just so glad that they're looking like they should now. No more "it's okay enough" tattoo, but their actual fucking design.
Hey! re-tumblr-eating-asks: I was curious if there are any celebrations/ festivals that were associated with your Forgotten Ones (like Fen'Sulahn's Dye Festival, but in the Forgotten Ones' territories)? Also was curious if that same dye can be found in the mondern!AU?
There are!
There is the Storyteller’s Festival in Henne’thel’s lands. People from all around gather to tell stories and sing songs. hahrens tell old myths, and actors and acrobats and musicians entertain and act out well-known legends. It is a festival meant to bring people together to share history, and every new story is told to Henne’thel, who remembers them all, to pass down to the younger generations. It is a great honor to have a new tale or legend, or a new version of an old one, and to be able to recount it to Henne’thel herself. While Dirthamen is said to be a Keeper of secrets and knowledge and to have a vast library in which he kept his lore, written down for the ages to come, it was Henne’thel who sang and told the stories to all, and did not keep them to herself. She is the progenitor of the oral history traditions of the Dalish. The Dalish that worship the Forgotten Ones say this festival was the first Arlathven, though the Dalish that worship the Evanuris claim otherwise.
Anaris has many tournaments and festivals, as games and luck and chance are his purview. He is also known for his love of drink, and so there is a grape festival that is associated with him, with a night full of parties and dance and gambling.
After the fall of Arlathan, many festivals sprung up among the Dalish. There is the Day of Truth, associated with Oranani, in which no one lies or is allowed to lie, and has turned often into a day of vow renewal, as it is known that no lies are uttered, and therefore all words and promises are sincere. It is a taboo to lie on this day.
The Festival of Memory is an interesting one. It is a far more solemn festival than most. It is a time to reflect, and remember, and delve deep into what once was. This festival has been attributed both to Geldauran and to Oranani.
The Festival of Dreams begins in the morning, when nets are woven out of special vines from the dreamweaver plant, found only in the Tirashan. These nets are hung in the doorways of all the aravels in the evening, to trap nightmares, ill will, and harmful spirits. The nets are then burned the next morning. This is to start every year with a new, clean, and safe place to rest. It is associated with Daern’thal.
Snakes are associated with Melarue, the Cunning One/Clever One, and are also associated with the idea of renewal and healing. There are no specific festivals, per se, but seeing a snake or finding a snake skin is considered good luck and a sign of Melarue’s favor. Also, Melarue is one of the only Forgotten Ones who is known among the non-Dalish in the Tevinter Imperium. The symbol of a coiled snake has become a sign of safe houses for runaway slaves, an image hidden in plain sight as snakes are also well-known among the Magisters, and so it is a safe symbol to place in doorways or carved up the arms of statues. While they are not known as a Dalish God, per se, they are known as an entity that outwits slavers and Magisters.
And I don’t know if Adahlan’s red dye still exists in modern AUs. I imagine there are many synthetic versions of it, and likely the river snail that held the pigments used to make Adahlan red is extinct now, or endangered. It can only thrive in very clean environments, which was not a problem with magic, but likely when the veil was lifted this hurt the ecosystems greatly and it likely disappeared.
