Frederick was aware Morrigan was not real. She could not be. Some mages had the ability to infiltrate the dreams of those drifting through the fade in their sleep, but neither of them held that power. Still, she was here, by an ocean that had no name, admiring its vastness as its waves broke upon the shore, as she had been so frequently in his dreams.
"I think of you often," he said, resting his head overtop hers. Always. He thought of her always.
He thought of her with her staff in hand, purple and black swirling around her, arcane wind blowing her hair across her face. He thought of her lost in thought with her tongue between her side teeth, poring over a manuscript. He thought of the Orlesian heads that turned in jealousy, fear, and excitement when she entered a room, commanding it with the rap of her heels on the floor and her piercing, cat-like eyes.
The ring on his finger thrummed with the essence of her, imbued into it when she had still protested that she did not love him and yet had wished to protect him despite that. The band was worn smooth over years from his playing with it, as comfortable as the invisible ties that bound them together no matter the distance.
Kieran ran toward him on the shore, a young Kieran, wearing a face drawn from memory. He was a man grown now, but never here where he could still imagine he needed him. No matter where he was he brimmed with earnest questions, though he knew more answers now and asked as a friend, not as a child.
Ever curious, just as the companions that had accompanied him from childhood were.
The scene faded and the figures dispersed, though waves still lapped upon the empty dreamshore. Echoes of fervour and curiosity, devotion and determination pressed near him as they always did, though more intensely when he slept.
He motioned to the mote of curiosity, the eldest of his friends.
"You will tell her, won't you?" he asked, and kissed his ring as he had done hundreds of times before, pouring in his own ardent longing until it could be communicated faster than thought-speed by the spirit the emotion traveled with. "Let her know while she sleeps."
"Until we meet again, my love," he whispered to the white-capped sea.
I already did this one for Amadis and Illario but then @inquisimer tagged me so Frederick and Morrigan are up next, thank you! <3
Rules: Post some pictures of your OTP and their vibes, some info, and a song that fits their vibe!
Gonna tag @lavalampelfchild for this
OTP: Morrigan/Frederick Amell
Dynamic: I knew you the moment I met you, the cynic and the optimist (arguable, given Freddy's later arc), two nerds with different areas of study exploring the world, the romantic and the one who mocks the romantic but is fondly amused by him, romantic as in 'dark and fervent passion'
Fate: Separated far too much by events and yet never far in each other's thoughts
Vibes:
Songs:
Carry No Thing by SYML
There will always be a last day for me
When it calls my name I will answer tru
All the good and the bad, I will let it be
And I will carry no thing but my love for you
Shrike by Hozier
Remember me, love
When I'm reborn
As a shrike to your sharp
And glorious thorn
Evermore by Taylor Swift
I replay my footsteps on each stepping stone
Trying to find the one where I went wrong
Writing letters
Addressed to the fire
And I was catching my breath
Floors of a cabin creaking under my step
And I couldn't be sure
I had a feeling so peculiar
This pain wouldn't be for evermore
Inkpot Gods by The Amazing Devil
And I can hear him break
And he doesn't understand
And I wish that I could take his hand
But where I'm going is for me and me alone
And I can hear her sing
"If I don't make it back from where I've gone
Just know I loved you all along"
Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!
Tagged by @dreadfutures, thank you! Tagging @askweisswolf, @magicmissiled @theluckywizard
"You promised that I could live as a hero in a way that no other Grey Wardens have been able to, believing it was what I wanted. Perhaps it was, once, but now I taste only bitterness and the emptiness of a lonely future. I spend my days hating and loving you by turns, never sure which emotion is the truer."
“Let me in to your plans. You say Kieran has a destiny before him; teach me to understand it and let me help you. I need a purpose, like you have purpose.”
"I knew every flagstone, every chest placed neatly at the foot of every bed. It was a prison, I know that now, but for sixteen years it was where I passed every minute of every day, laughed with friends, ate meals, lost myself in tales of adventure."
"If you can’t find inspiration in standing where legends once walked there’s someone else who’s more than happy to listen to me go on.” He turned away from her and knelt down before his beloved war hound, Calenhad. “Let me tell you the stories about the Rebel Queen,” he began.
“I’m not afraid of death, not really. I fear my death having no meaning. I fear going on a quest that may ultimately be a fool’s errand to lengthen my life, losing the time I might have had with my family, and dying anyway.”
"My travel companions look to me like I’m the Maker returned; some have even taken to calling me “Warden-Commander” again even though I am nothing of the sort. Without you to ground me I fear that I may return with an inflated sense of self-importance and then what will become of me? I shall be truly insufferable. Clearly I must be rescued from myself."
“But what use am I if not to pester you until you smile at me, my carnivorous plant of a woman?”
“Do not restrict me to an object of admiration, nor yourself to the position of admirer. ‘Tis a folly I abhor. Discover your use without my involvement.”
“Perhaps you’re right.” He sighed. “Nevertheless, I should like to stay as we are forever.”
“Would you forget your duty and the destiny that has been appointed for you? The man I know, his head full of ambitions toward heroism and tongue singing the praises of the great kings of this land would not. We would both tire of an aimless life devoid of purpose within a fortnight.”
"They were supposed to be happy here. They were supposed to be protected, but they had been abandoned by the ones meant to keep them safe! What use are the Templars if their only solution is to murder indiscriminately without trial or attempt to differentiate victims from instigators? Both mage and Templar were affected by Uldred’s machinations, their minds no longer their own, and yet only the mages needed be sacrificed in the name of safety."
“Everything that is in my power to grant you, you have. The protection of my body and my magic I will grant to you, your favours I will wear with love and pride, all of my devotion I lay at your feet, but I can give you no more. I am your servant, my queen. That is all.”
"Let anyone who comes after know that we were happy here. Grievous duty beckoned but while these walls remain may they remember the love of those who came before."
I got to see Frederick and his beautiful witch wife in @emedeme's wonderful style and I think I'm still crying, it's absolutely perfect. Morrigan is so tolerant of his displays of affection (and not so secretly appreciates them)
Summary: While Warden Frederick Amell is off on a quest to find a cure for the Calling, Morrigan and their son spend time at Skyhold. The three exchange letters and Morrigan pretends not to love Frederick as much as she does; wouldn't want him to gain an inflated sense of self-importance, after all. He knows how to read between the lines.
Words: 1789
Read it all on AO3 or continue below!
Hello Little Man,
So you are in a castle in the sky, are you? Take care that you don’t sprout wings and fly away; I need to be able to find you again when I can come home. Did you know that there were legends of such a place referred to in dusty old tomes that I read when I was a boy like you? I had always thought that they were no more than that. I must say that I am very glad that you were nowhere near the Temple of Sacred Ashes when all this business began - it was impressive long ago, when your mother and I traveled there, but even then would have caused you nightmares due to the lyrium woven through it. Hearing that that lyrium was corrupted made me worried for you when I realized that you might have come near it. I hope any temporary proximity to it had no ill effect, though I’m sure if it had your mother would have taken wonderful care of you.
Today we traveled through lands scarred by the Fourth Blight. I am glad that the Fifth was stopped quickly; this is a dark and barren land. Here and there structures from when the Grey Wardens were plentiful jut out of the landscape, always near water, and I think of you and your mother; my own oasis. I am sad to be without you, but glad that you are not in danger here. I have included with this letter a small carving that fell off an outpost that I thought you might find interesting.
Be careful, my dear son. You are valuable to many for their own use and ambition and so I worry for you in such a place. I love you always. Take care of your mother and pay attention to your lessons. You will have to tell me about all you’ve learned when I see you next.
Love,
Father
---
My dearest and most beguiling witch,
It’s always good to see my name in your wispy hand on an envelope. Even the little bit of paper your letter is written on feels like home since I know it was once in your possession. I know you think I’m ridiculous, and I’m aware that I am, but do not pretend that you do not enjoy it.
I’m glad to hear that you’ve gotten out of Orlais. You know how much I despised the little time we spent there among such insincere schemers and disliked leaving you to their tender mercies, though as always I trust in your judgment. Nevertheless, it relieves a worry knowing that you and Kieran are away from the court. Is this Inquisition much safer, though? If nothing else it is a predominantly religious organization and for all your virtues Andrastianism is not one of them. Can you really trust this “Inquisitor?” If you believe this to be the best course of action then of course you have my support; no one knows better than I the extent to which you would keep Kieran from harm. You cannot control every unknown for all your foresight, though. Take care, darling.
For my own part I am in equal measures freezing and boiling, with the predominant complaint dependent on the time of day, and my feet are so tired and sore that no amount of magic will mend the exhaustion filling all of me. I had hoped not to put this blue and silverite back on but it seems that was not to be my destiny. I hear of whispers among the other Wardens though, friends leaving cryptic goodbyes for each other and becoming unreachable. Things one might expect of one going to their death, but in such numbers that something seems off. I can reassure you that I have felt nothing that could cause concern. There was one day as we traveled out of Orlais that I noticed my fingers tapping a rhythm of their own accord but it has not happened again. I would know, I’ve been on my guard ever since. I won’t let this kill me. Not now. I was forced to part from you yet again and I am determined that we will be reunited. None of my current companions allow me to warm my feet against them in the middle of the night and I have decided that I cannot meet my end without doing that once more.
I know you will think me a fool for waxing poetic about romantic feelings and self evident truths but you are welcome to do so; it is foolish. My arms feel empty without you in them and it is like I am missing a limb when I look to my side and Kieran is not there standing next to me. I think often of quiet moments we’ve spent together, the three of us, in recent years. I carry your sideways smile with me, along with the softness in your catlike eyes when you tell me that I am a foolish man. The pride you attempt to hide when Kieran and I are deep in theory-crafting magic and he shows that he is wise beyond his years and yet so sincere and innocent. The silkiness of your hair after you’ve washed it, the scent of herbs that follows you. I’m inclined to weep just writing of it with the knowledge that it will be some time before I can return to you. Laugh at me if you will, I will not care if I can but hear you tease me once more.
My travel companions look to me like I’m the Maker returned; some have even taken to calling me “Warden-Commander” again even though I am nothing of the sort. Without you to ground me I fear that I may return with an inflated sense of self-importance and then what will become of me? I shall be truly insufferable. Clearly I must be rescued from myself.
Keep me informed of any new developments, or even mundane lists of the subjects of Kieran’s current study. I spend many hours alone with my thoughts; I might not feel so alone if I can picture the two of you leading an average life, or at least what is average for us.
My affection for you is endless, but I will ensure that this letter is not so that it can be sent by the quickest post. Farewell, my raven-feathered woodland corvid,
Yours,
Frederick
---
My Warden,
I would tell you that you are ridiculous, but not only are you aware of that fact I should not wish to give you the satisfaction. Judge yourself as you will. I cannot say that I miss your cold feet against my skin chilling me in the night, just as I cannot say that I miss your laugh boisterously and annoyingly filling our home or the exhaustion following talks that drag on nearly till sunrise.
Kieran speaks of you often. Boasts, more appropriately. Having been granted the freedom to speak freely on the topic he announces to anyone who might listen what, “My father, the Hero of Ferelden,” would opine on a given topic. The most irritating part is how often he’s correct; the boy does know you well. There is a mortalitasi staying at the castle; he has become determined to ask him questions on your behalf so that you might discuss it later when we are reunited.
Have no fear with regard to the Inquisitor, my love. Though he is cleverer than he initially appears, he is easily managed. I do believe he may even have a healthy fear of me which I have made no effort to diminish. He seems principled and I have no dislike of him, though I have not been able to adequately estimate what your feelings on the man might be. There is no affection for study within him but he is far from indolent, constantly seeking activity. He has become fond of Kieran, genuinely I believe, and so though I remain on my guard I can identify no threat from him.
It has been an odd thing to find myself reunited with erstwhile companions in Leliana and Alistair. Both are quite changed, and both want little enough to do with me. Alistair is less sulky, at least. I have caught Leliana staring intently at our son, likely puzzling how someone such as myself could raise a boy with his courteousness and curiosity and ascribing it to you. Of course she would be wrong, but you are aware of my efforts with regard to his upbringing. And perhaps your influence may be the slightest bit visible, in some small way. I have added a sheet listing his current curriculum as you asked. He will surely be delighted to hear your insights, and perhaps it will aid his investment in the topics.
I have included a pair of socks with this missive. I did not make them so do not get any overinflated notions of your own importance into your head. I simply do not wish for you to be uncomfortable.
Yours,
Morrigan
---
Dear Father,
I am fine, do not worry. I had some headaches before but it’s okay now. Skyhold is old and pretty and I like it. The Inquisitor is funny and nice, he lets me ride his horse sometimes.
When will you come back? Mother says you have to go far away before we can meet you again, but I miss you. I have lessons every day but they aren’t fun anymore. Mother says I have to go, though.
Did you know, Father, that there is a mage from Nevarra here? I have asked him how he learned how to become a mortalitasi. Do you know what he said? He didn’t have a person to teach him, just that he drew the soul of another necromancer to him. Do you think my soul could float around like that? Maybe if it could it could float right back to you. Would you hear me if I was a spirit?
Mother was especially grumpy this week. She said she was learning to knit socks, but they got all tangled until she threw everything away, even the needles! It was funny to watch the ball of yarn roll away down the mountain. She tried to hide that she had bought some from me later. Why would Mother need secret socks? I don’t know why she would hide it. Maybe they’re a present? But who would want socks as a present? I would like a book as a present, Father. Or for you to come home.
Mother tells me stories before I go to sleep but she forgets parts. Come home soon, please.
