Also found on Ao3
I was playing Oblivion Remastered and could not stop thinking about my TES family, especially Elyirwe and Martin at the current moment and just had to write how sickenly in love Martin is with her. They're so sweet your honor that we all know the narrative is gonna HURT
He watched with bated breath as her eyes rolled across the parchment, taking in every drop of ink spilled from his heart.
Martin’s heart beat so loudly, he was afraid she would be able to hear it from where she sat across the room, leaning against the mantle of the fireplace. He sat at his desk, as he usually did, and had mulled over whether or not to give her the parchment long before she even returned to the temple.
It was inevitable she would visit his office as she always did so.
When she had stepped through, his mind blanked and words failed him. When he finally regained some amount of consciousness, he handed her the parchment.
He should have left the room, ran away, and buried his head in the nearest snow pile. His face was hot and it wasn’t because of the simmering fire in the fireplace. If he looked in a mirror, he wondered exactly what percentage of his face was red with embarrassment. He wanted to snatch the note from her and throw it in the flames, some excuse bumbling from his lips, but it was already too late.
He watched Elyirwe intently, noting every reaction of her face, though was little. Each time her eyes returned to the left side of the page, reading a new line, he felt his heart sink deeper.
She was his bodyguard.
It was a fool’s thought that he and her could ever be together. But oh what a fool he was. He was raised as a farmer’s son, not an Emperor’s. She may have come to him, telling him the truth, but he still didn’t fully accept it. Not even when Jauffre told him it was so.
He slid into the role easily, but there was always some sort of doubt.
When it came to her, however, by the Nine he couldn’t be Emperor if it meant having to leave her.
He noticed her pointed ears twitch, the first reaction he had seen since she began reading. They lowered against her head and he could see a tinge of red forming on the tips. Or maybe it was just the lighting.
Oh how many times he dreamed of trailing his finger along those points, tucking her flaming hair behind them. Trailing kisses from the tip, down her neck, and to her lips.
A part of him — the priest who never truly left Kvatch — suddenly became very ashamed. He never took a vow of celibacy and in this very moment, he was grateful for that. But it still shamed him to think such provocative thoughts. Especially towards the woman who was meant to be the Emperor’s personal bodyguard. There were supposed to be no entanglements between the two roles.
But another part of him — the farmer’s son — didn’t care. He didn’t care to be an emperor, if it meant he could have her.
He then noticed her pale-yellow cheeks had become tinged in the same pink shade as her ears. It was no trick of the flames, he was certain now. She had finally finished reading the page and stood there.
Then there was a small chuckle. She lowered the parchment and looked directly at Martin. His heart tightened in his chest and he feared she would laugh at him, deny his heart’s feelings, or be angry for daring to jeopardize their professional relationship.
But her eyes were full of light and her ears twitched playfully. “I did not know Your Grace was such a poet,” she said flamboyantly, waving the parchment in the air as she stepped away from the mantle.
Martin’s face burned hotter as she stepped closer. She did not wear her armor, instead opting for the soft tunic and pants she always wore when not out adventuring or protecting him. Her fiery hair was still in its half up-do, however, the ponytail part swaying softly behind her.
She reached his desk and placed the parchment full of his heartfelt confessions on the surface.
He cleared his throat. “It was…not meant to be a poem,” he muttered, not knowing what to say.
She chuckled again and the lives he would live over and over if it meant hearing that sound forever was everything to him. By the Nine it was so beautiful and made his heart flutter even more.
He was going to be sick with how in love he was.
“Really? Because you have such a way with words,” she teased. Then her smile faded and she bashfully looked away. “However, I did not realize you felt so…strongly.” Her voice was quiet, cautious, enough that it cracked his heart slightly.
“I-I’m sorry,” he stammered, suddenly pushing himself up from his seat. He grabbed the parchment and began towards the fireplace. “We can just forget I said any of that.” He reached out to throw it into the flames, but his wrist was suddenly grabbed.
He was forcefully turned around and came face to face with Elyirwe. “Don’t.” She whispered. Then she smiled. “It was beautiful.” She took the parchment from his hands and tucked it into her pocket.
Now they stood there, chest to chest, and Martin was now definitely sure she could feel his heart beating out of his chest.
She was so much taller than him, that he had to crane his neck to look into her beautiful blue eyes.
She was his knight in shining armor.
He wondered if he fainted right then and there, would she catch him in her arms and whisk him away somewhere safe, somewhere away from all of the troubles of the world so it could just be the two of them.
His eyes wandered to her lips and those lustful thoughts returned to his mind — shunned by his priest-self, but embraced by his peasant-self.
Then, in the most impulsive decision he ever made in his life, he stepped on his tippy toes and pressed his lips against hers. His heart was pounding so loudly, it echoed in his ears. The taste of the elf’s lips did nothing to ease the sound.
As much as he wanted to continue, he quickly stepped back, distancing himself from her. He turned, covering his mouth, his face red with embarrassment. “Talos, I’m so sorry,” he apologized, his breath escaping him. He peeked over his shoulder to see her standing in surprise, frozen at the sudden kiss.
And that’s where he messed up. He knew it. It was over after that. By the Nine why was he such an idiot?!
Then once again, he was spun around. But this time, he was brought into a crushing embrace and felt her warms lips against his. Her arms wrapped around his torso, with one of her hands pressing against his neck, pushing him deeper into their kiss.
His legs began to shake and he felt he would fall, but he just clutched onto her, wrapping his own arms around her torso and let her consume him. In heated passion, they opened themselves to each other, fully exploring one another, all thoughts and hesitations thrown out of the window.
He had never kissed anyone before. The thought had never crossed his mind. When he took his priest’s vows, he never imagined he would fall in love. But fall in love so easily did he with this woman.
The way she weaved magic throughout her swordplay always fascinated him. From that very first moment she burst through the chapel doors in Kvatch, face bloodied and dirty, he knew he was doomed.
And this kiss sealed his fate.
They pulled away, only to catch their breaths, before they collided again. They were so lost in each other’s bliss, they would suffocate on one another.
But reason returned to them and they finally broke apart, but remained in each other’s arms.
Elyirwe’s face was stark red and he could only imagine his was the same. Yet the smile radiating off her face continued to warm him.
“I love you,” he admitted, the words so sacred on his tongue and for a moment, he feared he would be rejected, even after such a passionate kiss.
She chuckled, her ears twitching as she did so. He realized they did so in a flirty way. “Don’t you think that’s a bad idea, My Lord?” she asked, but he could sense the teasing behind it.
In truth, it probably was, but Martin didn’t care. He wanted her.
“Maybe. But I don’t care. It’s my heart’s truth.”
She smiled wider, then leaned in closer. They shared a quick breath. “Then may we both be fools in love,” she whispered, before closing the distance once more between them.
Fanfiction: DAI
Honestly, this went in a different direction than I was planning, but I pulled an all-nighter and am sleep deprived. Trying so desperately to beat Inquisition before Veilguard comes out and I don't know if I'm going to make it in time lol
Can also be found on Ao3
Willow stared into her cup full of dark liquor. This was her third? She wasn’t feeling drunk, maybe only slightly tipsy. The others around her were speaking, laughing, and chatting. She looked away from her cup and smiled at her friends.
Times like these were nice. A moment of peace in the middle of a war was always welcomed. She had declined joining the game of Wicked Grace for the night, but she watched with an amused look on her face. Cullen was losing horribly. She peeked at his cards and just shook her head slowly as she heard him obviously bluff. He leaned back in his chair, a confident grin on his face. His arm slung across the back of her chair and subconsciously wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her in. She smiled and leaned into it.
No one commented on their relationship anymore, though Dorian did throw a knowing smile at her. Varric called Cullen on his bet and Willow noticed Cullen’s jaw tense just slightly. She took a drink. Iron Bull called the bet as well. He definitely would have caught the subtle movement of Cullen’s face.
“Alright Curly, show ‘em,” Varric motioned to his cards.
Cullen removed his arm from Willow’s shoulder and looked at his cards. His face fell and he laid the cards out. “I got nothing,” he sighed in defeat.
“I knew it,” Bull announced, laughing and taking a large swig from his own cup.
“Now now, Tiny, we still need to see who wins: me or you,” Varric said.
Bull scoffed and revealed his cards. “Beat that.”
Varric smiled gleefully and laid his cards out. He did, in fact, beat Bull’s hand—barely.
“Oh come on!” Bull cried out. The table burst out into laughter as Varric took the pot, chuckling as he did so.
“Can’t beat the master,” he bragged.
Willow watched as they set up another round. She took another sip of her drink, but suddenly, pain shot up her arm. She cried out and the cup fell from her hand as the green light of the Anchor sparked to life. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at her in concern as she held her hand close to her chest, hissing as the pain subsided.
“You okay?” Varric was the first to ask. Cullen had put his hands on her shoulder, worry flooding his face.
Willow nodded and then took a deep breath. She shook her hand and grunted. “It does that sometimes,” she explained.
“Is it bad?” Bull asked, his eyes serious and showing his care for her.
“Just a bit surprising most of the time.” She rubbed her palm. “Sometimes, the pain gets so bad it consumes me entirely. Falling to the ground and just laying there until it passes.”
“Maybe have Chuckles look at it again and see if he can figure something out to alleviate the pain?” Varric suggested.
Willow shrugged. “It’s fine for now. I think whenever I go a long time not closing rifts, it gets antsy.” She let out a dry chuckle. “It’s like I need to use it otherwise it’ll just start hurting.”
“Are you going to be okay?” Cullen asked her, his face soft with overwhelming love and concern.
She smiled and patted his cheek. “I’ll be fine, Curly,” she replied. “Not the worst thing to happen to me…just the weirdest.”
“Oh?” Dorian piped up. “Not the traveling through time?”
She snapped her fingers and pointed. “Yeah, nevermind, that was the weirdest thing.” There was a round of chuckles. Willow picked her cup off the floor and only then did she realize that the rest of her alcohol had actually fell on her lap. The pain had numbed the feeling of her wet clothes. “Ah dammit,” she groaned, standing up and wiping, unsuccessfully, at the liquid.
“Someone needs a wardrobe change,” Dorian smirked.
She chuckled. “I think that’s my cue to go to bed. It is getting late.”
“Aww come on, boss, we’re about to beat your boyfriend’s ass again,” Bull joked.
“Yeah right,” Cullen retorted, but there was a slight flush on his face. He was horrible at Wicked Grace.
Willow chuckled and just leaned down and gave Cullen a kiss on the cheek. “Well try not to kick it too much. I still need him.” The boys roared with laughter. She ruffled Cullen’s hair. “Good night guys. Have fun.”
They waved her out as she walked out, Cullen watching her go, sadly, but admiring the sway of her hips.
“Hey, Commander, focus,” Varric snapped his fingers.
Cullen shook his head and cleared his throat whipping his head back to the table. “I-I am!”
“The Inquisitor’s ass is not the game,” Bull smirked, knowingly. Cullen just sighed and let his head fall, failing to hide the blush rising on his face.
“Don’t worry, dear Cullen, I’ll appreciate it for you,” Dorian joked. That made another roar of laughter rise around the table.
Cullen just groaned. “Let’s get this next round going. I am not losing this time.”
Fanfic - Just really short and simple fluff moment between Corvo and the Outsider, because I couldn't think of anything else for this prompt.
Can also be found on Ao3
Corvo was exhausted. Blood stained his hands and his body ached once more. How much longer could he keep doing this? How many people would he have to kill just to get back to his daughter?
He could feel the world slipping away from him, feel his body began to float and drift in the air. He closed his eyes and allowed the momentary peace to wash over him. He should have expected this to happen, resting so closely to one of the Outsider’s shrines.
He felt something press against his head and the rest of his body followed suit, resting against some surface. He then felt the cool softness of fingers running through his hair.
“My dear Corvo,” came the familiar echoey voice of the Outsider. “What a day you’ve had.”
Corvo slowly opened his eyes looking into the black nothingness of the Outsider’s. He could see himself reflected in the obsidian pools and he saw the blood coating his face, the warmth finally getting to him. He shut his eyes immediately, not wanting to look any further. He felt a cool breeze wash against his face and then the warm and sticky blood disappeared. He felt those cold fingers once again gently place themselves against his cheeks.
He let out a breath of relief, allowing himself a moment to relax in the arms of a god, one who watched over him and took care of him for reasons unknown to anyone. He slowly opened his eyes and looked at the Outsider. “Am I monster?”
The Outsider smiled softly and gently shook his head. “I know monsters. You are not one of them.”
“But I am a killer. I’ve killed so many…”
The Outsider let out a soft chuckle that echoed throughout the Void. “I know you better than you know yourself, Corvo. You are not like other killers. You kill with a purpose and only when there are no other options. You merely had a bad day today.” The Outsider covered Corvo’s eyes with his hand. “Now rest, my dear Corvo. Rest and let your worries float away. You have nothing to fear.”
The Outsider’s voice echoed throughout Corvo’s head, even as he felt himself sink into a soft mattress and his consciousness fade.
Fanfiction - DAI
I kinda struggled figuring out what to write for this prompt, but as I've been thinking more about my world state and all my characters being mages, I wanted to write just a little something where one of them is dealing with being both loved and hated. My Inqy really hates being Inquisitor but was forced into the role and does what she has to.
Can also be found on Ao3
It was one of those nights where Willow was exhausted and worn out from traveling for so long. Coming back to Skyhold had been a relief, but also brought its own menagerie of thoughts. She ignored almost everyone who greeted her, hailing her as “Herald”. Maker, she hated that title.
She wandered her way to the tavern, finding a lonely corner to drink some of her sorrows away. At this time of day, the tavern was thankfully empty and she gave a look to the barkeep to not bother her and just ignore her. Of course, that was unlikely to happen considering the Inquisitor herself was in his tavern. She rubbed her head and sighed as she took a drink of the strong liquor that he had placed in front of her, nervously.
“There you are,” came a familiar deep voice. Willow turned and saw the charming dwarf, Varric, smiling up at her. “I heard a special someone was brooding about.” The dwarf pulled a chair up to her table and sat across from her. “Do all elves brood like this?” he asked her, signaling to the barkeep to bring him a drink.
“Do you know many elves?” she asked, her eyes lowered and heavy with exhaustion.
“A few. And at least one of them was the most broodiest of elves I ever knew.” Varric received his drink and made a toast motion to Willow. “To broody elves!” Then he downed the drink.
Willow rolled her eyes and just stared into her cup.
“So what’s going on, Willow?” he asked, his face changing from light-hearted to seriousness.
She let out a long sigh and closed her eyes. “I hate all of this.”
Varric nodded slowly. “I bet. Being put on a pedestal that you don’t even want to be on does tend to suck.” Another drink dropped off.
Willow looked up at him and frowned. “You would know?”
Varric shook his head. “No, but I know friends who’ve dealt with this.”
“Hawke?” she titled her head.
Varric nodded and there was a sadness in his eyes. “We’ve had quite a few heroes in these past few years.” He smiled as he remembered something. “Did you know the Hero of Fereldan was an elven mage just like you?”
Willow’s eyes widened. She didn’t know that.
“Of course, she grew up in the Circle, wasn’t Dalish. I met her once. She was very passionate about a lot of things. She was the one who told us that the story about the Hero of Fereldan is so skewed that she forgets she’s the one they’re talking about.”
Willow scoffed. “Of course. Who wants to admit they were saved by a mage? An elf too.”
Varric shrugged. “I thought everyone liked the Grey Wardens, regardless of what they were.”
Willow took another sip of her drink. “If you’re a mage, no one likes you.”
“That’s not true,” Varric argued. Some people had found their way into the tavern, not noticing the Inquisitor sat in the corner. Willow was thankful for that, but still shied closer to the wall and turning her face away. “Look, I don’t know what it’s like to have magic, but I do know people. And while the popular sentiment is that ‘all mages are bad’, there are just as many people who like mages.”
Varric looked over to some of the newcomers who were laughing and having a good time. He strained his ears to listen in on their conversation.
“She’s inspirational!” one of the people said, a young elven woman.
“I was there when she took down that pride demon. I’ve never seen anyone fight with such passion before,” said another, a stocky human decked out in armor.
“My son loves hearing stories of her and wants to be like her when he grows up,” said a middle-aged woman with a staff on her back.
Varric smiled and turned back to Willow. “Don’t listen to me, listen to them,” he jerked his chin to their location.
Willow sighed and flicked her ear to attention, listening in on their conversation. They continued to talk about her, praising her and saying how much of an inspiration she was and a good leader. They were proud to be part of the Inquisition with her as a leader.
Willow’s ear flicked again as she stopped listening. A slight smile spread across her face. “I just feel like I hear the negative comments louder than all the good ones.”
“Everyone always does. It’s hard to accept that you’re a good person in a position of power sometimes.” Varric downed his drink again. “Don’t doubt yourself too much, Willow. I’ve met lots of people who have been thrown into a similar position. You’re a good woman and probably one of the fiercest mages I’ve ever seen.”
Willow let out a dry chuckle. If only he knew her secret.
“Thanks Varric. You always manage to cheer me up,” she smiled.
Varric raised his empty cup and smiled back. “That’s what I do.”
Fanfiction: Dragon Age 2
Dealing with some Fade stuff where Hawke is forced to live a half-dream, half-nightmare scenario and his friends have to try and convince him to come back to the real world as he truly is.
Can also be found on Ao3
It always had to be the Fade, hadn’t it? Yet somehow, Anders was not Justice. Justice was still quietly slumbering away within. That made him relieved considering the company he was with.
A broody elf, a dwarf, and a possessed mage walk into the Fade.
Now they just waited for the punchline.
However, the three of them knew why they were here, against all odds: their friend, Seth Hawke, Champion of Kirkwall, and Anders’s lover, had been sent here. Of course — as many of their problems were oft to be caused by — blood magic was involved. Seth apparently couldn’t ever get any peace in Kirkwall, even after becoming the Champion. Honestly, it shouldn’t have been that surprising considering he was a free mage unlike most in Kirkwall. The Knight-Commander knew he was a mage and so did everyone else. The only reason he was never locked up in the Gallows was because of his status as Champion. He was the defender of the city.
And as much as Meredith hated that, she knew she had to let him reign free.
But there were always people jealous or even wary that Seth was allowed to roam free. Especially knowing he had a few apostate friends as well. So it was bound to happen that Seth would be kidnapped and jettisoned into the Fade by a couple unhappy blood mages. How Seth was kidnapped, no one even knew. He was sleeping soundly next to Anders just the night before.
Anders managed to arrange a few favors and got enough lyrium to send himself and two others into the Fade to find Seth and bring him home. Anders had fully expected Justice to take over once he stepped into the Fade physically, but Justice hadn’t.
As the three of them traveled across floating rocks, shivering at the green atmosphere, Varric finally let out a groan. “I swear if I end up in the Fade one more time, I’m quitting.”
Fenris looked at him with a raised brow. “Quitting what?”
“I’m just going to stick to writing books in a nice home on the coast, far away from magic and all this other shit.” The dwarf ran a hand through his hair. “How are we even supposed to find Hawke in here?”
Anders ignored the dwarf’s complaints, but answered his question. “The Fade naturally leads you to your desires. If we desire to find Seth, then we should be able to.”
“Then how come we haven’t found him, yet?” Fenris questioned, crossing his arms.
Anders frowned. “I don’t know. Something’s weird. I should have turned into Justice as soon as we entered the Fade, but I didn’t. It’s like the laws have been bent here for some reason.”
“Why don’t we just go find Seth in the real world, then?” Varric asked.
“Because from what Aveline told us, his captors had sent him fully into the Fade. His physical body is not in the real world anymore.”
“So he’s like us?” Fenris asked.
Anders nodded. “Right now, none of us exist in the real world. We’re all here physically, when normally only I or Seth could be here physically and only in our dreams.”
Varric grumbled to himself.
Anders looked back at the two of them. “If you do not wish to stay, then I can send you back, but I’m not giving up. I’m going to find Seth and I’m going to bring him home!” Anders snapped at them. His flickered blue for a second and Fenris took a slight step back, caution filling his eyes.
“I’m not saying I want to leave, even though I do, but I also want to find Hawke,” Varric digressed. “No offense Blondie, but I don’t know how long you’re going to last unpossessed right now.”
Anders looked at his hands. “I don’t know either.”
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
They traveled for what seemed like hours, or days, or years. Time was wonky in the Fade. It could have been seconds that passed in the real world while they lived a millennia in the Fade. However, they had eventually come to a scene that looked a lot like Lothering, Seth’s old home that he fled from during the Blight. However, the village looked thriving.
The three of them traveled down the streets until they came to a house on the outskirts of the village, far away from everyone else and from the Chantry. They could see two teenagers running in the fields, playing tag or some other children’s game. They saw the late Leandra Amell on a rocking chair, knitting away at some garment.
Then they saw a man who approached Leanda and gave her a kiss on her head. His hair was black and eyes a piercing blue, but a wide smile on his face. He looked out at the two teenagers running across the field and stood proudly. He looked old, similar in age to Leandra. Varric frowned, but before he could say anything, a lithe woman walked through him and approached the black haired-man.
The three of them watched as the woman dropped a large sack at the foot of the man. They were stunned, as she turned to watch the teenagers, to recognize familiar red eyes. The woman’s white hair was long and straight, drifting all the way down to the small of her back. She looked young, but not too young. About Anders’s age. However, her body was lean and thin. She had slight muscle buildup around her arms, but her face looked soft and round.
“That’s not…Hawke, is it?” Fenris asked, looking at the woman in disbelief.
Varric looked confused. “It’s almost as if it were a female version of him.”
Anders shook his head, sadness filling his eyes. “No, this is him.” Fenris and Varric looked up at Anders in surprise. “He must be in a world where he never transitioned.”
“Wait, seriously?” Varric asked.
Anders nodded. “He revealed it to me our first night together. It’s never come up since then so he never felt the need to tell anyone else.”
The white-haired woman looked at them and frowned. Those piercing red eyes were not filled with humor like Seth’s always was. She approached the three of them and crossed her arms, looking at them with suspicion. “Who are you?” she asked them.
Anders cleared his throat and offered a smile. “We are friends of yours. You’re in the Fade right now, a dream. One that has skewed your reality.”
The woman scoffed. “Yeah, okay and I’m the King of Fereldan.”
“Samantha?” called the voice of Leandra. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything’s fine. Just dealing with some snoopers,” the woman barked over her shoulder. She eyed the three of them again. “I suggest you leave us alone. We want no quarrel with you. Tell whoever sent you to stop bothering us.”
“We weren’t sent by anyone,” Varric said.
Samantha scoffed again. “Uh huh. That’s what a templar dog would say.” She stepped close to Anders, anger and a threat flashing across her red eyes. “If the templars do decide to finally come and tear my family apart, you’ll regret the day you ever stepped near our fucking house. Do you understand, bastard?”
Anders backed up shaking his head. “We’re not templars!”
“Yeah, this one hates templars,” Fenris pointed at Anders.
“Then who the fuck are you?!” Samantha growled, her fingers twitching as the air around them all started to crackle.
“Just look!” Anders held out his hands and willed the air to cool around them, forming a spike of ice in one hand. Then he willed a flame into existence in the other one. He took his hands and clapped them together, causing the flame to burst and ice to shatter, causing a lightning spark to shoot into the air before fizzling away. “I’m a mage, too.”
Samantha seemed to relax, but did not lower her guard. “I still don’t understand what you’re doing here then.”
“We’re here to rescue you,” Varric reiterated.
“Rescue me? From what?” She snorted. “My happy life here? I have a loving family and more than I could ask for.”
Anders looked at her sadly. “This isn’t you though. And this life your living…It’s not yours.” Anders motioned to the village behind them. “Lothering is gone. You ran from it during the Blight.” He pointed to the family in the back. “Your family is all but dead. Only Carver remains and he’s a Grey Warden.”
Her eyes flicked to Anders. “How do you know my brothers name?” she hissed.
“Because we know you,” Fenris responded.
“This isn’t real, Seth,” Anders said quietly, holding a hand out to the woman. She backed away.
“My name isn’t Seth.” But even as she said it, doubt started to form in her eyes.
“It is. You are a man living in Kirkwall. You are the Champion of Kirkwall,” Anders pressed.
Samantha backed away some more, clutching her head. “No, you’re wrong! My name is Samantha! I’m a girl living in Lothering with my family and nothing bad ever happened to us!”
“Seth please,” Anders stepped forward, chasing her retreat. “Just listen to me.”
“I don’t even know who you are!” she yelled at him.
Anders’s heart cracked, for but a moment. He would save Seth from this dream. “I’m your…I’m your partner,” Anders revealed, with a hand to his heart. “You gave me this, remember?” Anders turned his head and pointed to the red hair tie he had his half-ponytail in. “And this.” He flicked his gold earring. “And this,” he motioned to a red band around his wrist. “And I gave you this.” Anders reached out towards the woman and she flinched, but as Anders put his hand on her chest, he grabbed the red feather that was attached to a leather chord, wrapped around her neck that had appeared as he reached for it.
She looked at it in shock, gently holding the feather in her hands. Recognition seemed to flash in her eyes. “I…I remember being unable to sleep…Then I went for a walk and I…I got hit upside the head.” She scratched her head. “Then I was back in Lothering and I…” She looked down at herself. “This isn’t me. I never wanted to be this.” She put her hands on her chest, feeling the breasts that should not have been there anymore. She touched her face which was too round and soft.
Anders put a hand on her cheek. “This isn’t you. It’s a dream. Your name is Seth and you don’t look like this.”
The woman looked back at her family, tears starting to form in her eyes. “But if I’m like this, they get to live. If I stay like this, I at least have my family.”
Varric approached and put a hand on her forearm. She looked back at the dwarf, tears rolling down her face. “But this isn’t your life. You wouldn’t be happy living here, trapped in a body that isn’t your own. You know it’s a dream Hawke. You can’t stay here.”
Samantha looked back down at her hands and let herself fully cry. “But my family!”
Anders pulled her into a hug, rubbing her back. “We’re your family,” he said.
The village started to fade away, the field vanished and the twins disappeared. Leandra and Malcom drifted away along with their house and they were all left in the Fade once more.
A bright light surrounded Hawke, but Anders didn’t let go, until Hawke finally pushed away.
Anders, Fenris, and Varric all let out a sigh of relief as Seth appeared, his hair shoulder length now and in it’s half-bun. His face pointed and angular with a black stubble growing all along his chin. He chest was flatter and his body a bit more broad. Yet those red eyes were still the same, just filled with tears now. Anders simply smiled and kissed Seth, relieved to see his lover again.
Varric and Fenris coughed and once the two lovers pulled away, Seth sighed. “Thank you guys for saving me. I…I can’t believe I let myself be consumed by a dream like that, even becoming something I wasn’t.”
“I must say, this was an interesting and surprising fact to learn,” Fenris admitted.
Seth let out a dry chuckle. “It’s something I struggled with a bit growing up. But my mother and father were supportive. I was twelve around the time I started changing. When I no longer wanted to be a woman. When I had to finally become a man.” Seth looked down at himself and smiled. “It feels good to be back.”
Anders nodded his agreement. “It is certainly nice to have my Seth back.”
Seth beamed and took Anders’s hand in his own. “Well, shall we get going? I suspect you know of a way to get us out of here?”
Anders tapped his chin. “Erm…Well…”
“Mage…” Fenris growled.
Anders laughed nervously. “I might have forgotten an important part of this method was making sure there was someone on the outside to get us back in the real world.”
Everyone looked at Anders in shock.
“You’ve got to be kidding Blondie,” Varric shouted.
“I’m going to kill him,” Fenris growled.
Suddenly, Anders’s eyes flashed blue and cold fire burst from his feet, swirling around him. Seth let go of his hand and backed up as the fire settled and blue cracks formed on Anders’s body. “Justice, please tell me you can get us out of here,” Seth asked the spirit who had finally appeared.
Varric almost shit himself when the spirit’s eyes rolled and let out an exasperated sigh. It was such a human response that he had not expected the angry spirit of Justice to ever make.
“I tried to tell Anders, but he refused to listen,” Justice groaned. “Yes, I can get us out of here. It will take time and considerable energy. Anders may not wake up for a long while once we return to the physical world.”
“That’s what he gets,” Fenris snarled.
Seth let out a nervous chuckle. “Yeah yeah, let’s just get out of here.”
Justice managed to manipulate the Fade just enough that the four of them were able to leave and all appeared in the same area Anders had cast the spell to begin with. As Justice said, Anders was unconscious for the next few hours, but eventually recovered. Though not without being berated by Fenris for a bit.
Fanfiction: DA2
Just some sweet simple dialogue between Purple Hawke and Mom Aveline because Fictober burnout is starting to hit and I'm eepy again. But I will press forward.
Can also be found on Ao3
Aveline crouched behind the rocks, squinting her eyes as she examined the bandits lousing about. She counted about seventeen of them, all dressed in rugged leathers and armed with poorly made blades. She knew the people with her could take them down. What she needed was to know if she could maage to pull more out of other parts of the cave.
She looked behind her at Anders and Varric, Varric adjusting his crossbow a bit and Anders tapping his staff nervously. “Anders, I need you to make a loud noise, draw whoever may be hiding in other parts out. Varric, you’ll offer cover fire. Let’s hope Hawke can sneak in with this distraction and do what he needs to do.” The dwarf and mage nodded. Varric scurried away to a higher position, getting ready. Aveline slid down from their perch and landed behind a couple crates, waiting for the signal.
Anders stood up, not yet seen by any of the bandits below and summoned power to his hands and staff. He closed his eyes feeling the storm build up inside him, ticking his nerves as lightning danced across his hands. When he opened his eyes, they sparked with purple and his statically rose a bit. He channeled the power into his staff and aimed it at the ceiling. A purple bolt of lightning struck out from the staff and struck the ceiling of the cave with a loud CRASH and shook the entire cavern.
Aveline ran from her hiding spot into the fray of confused bandits and began cutting them down. More bandits appeared from tunnels into other places, investigating the noise until they saw Aveline fighting and joined the fray. Varric began firing into the crowd below, making sure to nab any bandit that was behind Aveline and therefore out of her focus. The guard-captain was a fearless woman and her strength unparalleled. With the assistance of a mage and sharpshooting dwarf, the bandits stood no chance of taking her down.
Anders kept making sure to instill her body with haste, causing his magic to flow from her and then into Varric, allowing them to move and attack faster. When Aveline did hit, Anders immediately sent a bolt of restoring blue energy to her, sealing up the wound just as quickly as it formed.
More bandits poured in and Anders threw a fireball there way, his perch allowing him an advantageous view of the battlefield to sling his magic. Eventually, the bandits tried retreating but were cut down by either Anders or Varric. Once the last of the bandits had fallen, Aveline was panting hard. Anders slid down from his perch, meeting Varric halfway before rushing to Aveline and putting a hand on her shoulder, concentrating and sending soothing magic throughout her body, healing whatever wounds were left and allowing her to catch her breath. She nodded her thanks, used to the magic Anders now usually provided despite still not fully liking him. She tolerated him enough to play card games with him when everyone gathered at the Hanged Man and he was a good enough man for what he did for the refugees in Darktown that, had he not been possessed, she would have fully liked him.
As they looked around the bodies, looking for anything of valuable, Seth emerged from the farthest tunnel, a smug look on his face and staff slung over his shoulders as he waltzed towards them. Aveline stood from her position next to one of the fallen men and nodded. “Did you stick to the plan?” she asked, titling her head.
Seth looked at incredulously. “Well duh. With all the commotion you guys were making, it was easy to slip in.”
Aveline nodded, satisfied. “Then you found their leader?”
Seth nodded. “And I did what any good, upstanding citizen of Kirkwall would.” He smiled and puffed his chest out proudly.
“Which was…?” Aveline questioned, an eyebrow raising.
“Sent him to the Maker of course.”
“Hawke!” Aveline shouted in a tone a mother used when scolding her children. Seth flinched, his smug appearance dropping immediately. “You were supposed to capture him, not kill him!”
“Well you didn’t say that!” he argued.
“I didn’t think I needed to!”
“How many guys have we killed in the past two years? How was this any different?! We always kill bandits! Anders back me up here!” Seth pleaded, turning to Anders.
The mage shook his head and backed up. “Oh no, I am not getting involved in this one.”
Seth groaned then turned to Varric. “Ah ah,” the dwarf shook his head.
Seth groaned louder and stamped his foot. “How was I supposed to know the one time you didn’t want me to kill a bandit leader?”
“Because, Hawke,” Aveline started, tired irritation running across her face, “he was just part of the bigger leadership here. I needed information from him.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose.
“Well, I’m sure the others will turn up soon and we’ll deal with them just as well.” Seth slung his staff on his back and crossed his arms. “No biggie.”
Aveline glared at him. “You are such a child.”
“You should’ve been more clear on your instructions then, mother,” Seth jabbed jokingly.
“How does Leandra deal with you?” Aveline groaned.
“She is the strongest woman I know,” Varric chuckled. “She has Seth and Carver as sons who bicker all the time.”
Anders joined in on the teasing. “It take a great amount of fortitude to deal with Seth Hawke.”
Seth rolled his eyes and began walking towards the cave exit. “If everyone is done berating me, shall we go and enjoy our victory?”
Aveline just shook her head in exhaustion, but there was a smile on her face. Seth was efficient, just sometimes acted silly. It was part of his charm.
DA2 Fanfiction
In which the Kirkwall gang gets hired on a mission that involves disguising themselves as women. This causes some discomfort for Seth as a trans man, but it's worth it to see and dance with his love, Anders in a dress.
Can also be found on Ao3
“Why is alway thieving jobs…” Seth sighed as the human man finished his explanation.
“It’s not stealing…It’s getting something that was stolen back!” the human defended himself.
“Still requires stealing from someone,” Varric pointed out.
“It should be easy. Lady Monteforte is having a ladies night tonight, a ball with her and every noblewoman in town,” the man explained. “It was her husband who stole this jewel from me and presented it to her. I don’t know where she has it, but I know it’s in her house. You could sneak into it and get the jewel back.”
“I don’t think any of us could successfully sneak into a house while there’s a woman only party going on,” Fenris argued, raising an eyebrow.
The man put his chin in his hand. “Hm, I agree. There’s not like a back door you could enter since this is one of the close knit houses in Hightown.” The man’s eyes lit up. “You could disguise yourselves!”
“No, uh uh, we’re not doing that,” Seth immediately denied shaking his hands and head. “I’m out.”
“Oh pleeeeease, Champion! That jewel means so much to me! It was a family heirloom and I’ll pay handsomely for it.”
Seth looked at him with a deadpan face. “I don’t need money anymore.”
“Well…I…” The man panicked. “What about a weapon or a uh…armor piece?” Seth motioned to his armor and staff. “Okay well…shit.” The man fell to his knees, clasping his hands together. “Please messere, I need this!”
Seth backed up, looking slightly uncomfortable at the situation. Varric raised an eyebrow. “Thought you wouldn’t mind sneaking into a fun party.”
Seth frowned. “If the only way is through the front door and disguising oneself as a woman, not particularly.”
Anders put a hand on Seth’s shoulder, comfort in his eyes. Seth kind of leaned back into the man and seemed less tense. There was some sort of understanding between the two that made Varric wonder if there was something else going on about this mission.
“Is there nothing I can offer you to take on this quest for me?” the man pleaded once more.
“Come on Hawke,” Varric pressed. “It could be some fun. Cause some chaos, steal a jewel, a fun heist!”
Seth looked at the dwarf. “No.”
Anders rubbed Seth’s arms. “It would only be a night of some silly fun,” Anders added. “Besides, I would join you.”
Seth looked up at Anders in surprise. “I don’t want to and you know why.”
Anders nodded. “I know, but don’t you want to have some fun? I’d be in a dress,” Anders smirked.
Seth sighed. “Fiiiiiiine,” Seth relinquished. “We’ll get your stupid jewel, but you better pay out the ass for this.”
The man practically jumped to his feet. “Thank you!”
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Seth had to admit, this was probably going to be more fun than he thought. He almost burst out in tears of laughter when he saw Fenris and Varric in their disguises. Fenris looked horribly uncomfortable, wearing the most floofiest dress Seth had ever seen. He also wore a horrible blonde wig, decorated with beautiful flowers and gold kohl around his eyes. He would have looked beautiful if it weren’t for his grouching face.
“On second thought, I am regretting this,” Fenris growled.
Aveline and Merrill had joined the party, helping the boys get dressed up. Aveline decided to join on the festivities and as guard captain, getting in would be easy for her. Merrill was posing as her servant.
Varric also wore a poofy dress, but other than that, he hadn’t done much to make himself look womanly. When Aveline asked if that was sufficient, he shrugged. “Have you seen dwarven women?”
When Anders came out of the dressing room, Seth fell in love all over again. He wore a slim white dress that flared out near the bottom. The shoulders were cut out, revealing skin underneath, but white feathers sprouted around the holes. Anders had let his hair down completely, letting some of it fall in front of his face. He wore his red band of cloth that Seth had given him around his neck and had on brown and silver kohl on his eyes. He also replaced his gold earring with a silver one this time, to match the rest of the outfit.
Seth’s jaw practically hit the floor and his heart beat faster and faster. “You…uh…Maker…” He was at a lost for words and Anders just smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear.
“Wow Anders you look so lovely!” Merrill complimented, smiling so wide.
Even Aveline was shocked. “I am impressed. You definitely pass more than anyone else here. Even me and Merrill I think,” she joked.
“I like to be dramatic,” Anders replied.
“Ain’t that the truth,” Varric snorted.
Everyone then turned to Seth, who was still in his house clothes. “Well,” Aveline urged.
Seth sighed. “Do I have to?”
Anders approached him and Seth immediately felt his heart flip at the beautiful man. “I’ll be there with you,” he said, holding Seth’s hands.
Maker damn it all, if Seth got to see Anders like this all night he would do it.
Seth went into his room and shut the door.
It took about an hour, but afterwards the door to Seth’s room opened and he walked out. Everyone gasped as Seth walked in with the red dress his mother used to wear. It was from her young days and she had once told him she would have given it to either him or Bethany when they got older, but Bethany passed and Seth had transitioned.
He kind of wished she was here to see at least one of her children wear the beautiful dress.
He had shaved his growing stubble, his face now smooth and clean. Luckily the tea he took every night would allow it to grow back fast with no issue, so he hadn’t minded, but it still felt weird for his face to be so clean after all these years. He had put his hair in a braid and laid it across one shoulder, the shoulder not revealed by the dress. He had put on some black eyeliner and other makeup that highlighted the feminine features of his face.
The Hawke that walked out of that room was a completely different Hawke.
Everyone gasped, except for Anders who smiled softly.
“Holy crap!” Varric was stunned.
“How did you manage that?” Aveline asked.
Seth shrugged. “Maybe it’s because I was already born a woman,” he admitted. Anders had known for a long time as Seth came clean about it their first night together. Luckily, Anders hadn’t cared what his body was like and was not thrown off by anything.
It wasn’t something that ever came up in conversations so Seth didn’t feel the need to ever bring it up, but of course some hijinks like this would cause it to be brought up.
“I think you look stunning as usual,” Anders said, approaching Seth and taking his hand in his own. The two of them looked like beautiful brides and the others couldn’t help but notice how well they complimented each other.
Aveline chuckled. “Well I think I know who’s going to be doing the stealing,” she said, looking pointedly at Fenris and Varric. The two of them looked at each other then back at Aveline.
“Huh?”
“Merrill and I blend in naturally, but those two,” she pointed at Seth and Anders, “are so perfectly gorgeous together, they may steal the show.”
Seth fidgeted under the gaze of everyone. He hated looking like this. Anders noticed and forced him to look at him. His worries melted as he looked at the beauty that was his partner. He could stand looking like a woman again if it meant he got to see his partner like this for an entire night. Maybe that’s what Anders’s plan was.
“Well, let’s get going then,” Varric clapped his hands together. The moon was already rising and the party would be starting soon.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Surprisingly, getting through the front door had been easy. Aveline had been recgonized and as the guard-captain, she was able to convince the doorsmen that her companions were old friends, nobles from other places in the Free Marches. As long as no one asked specifics, everything would be fine. Aveline had worn a lovely mix of armor and a dress. She wore a decorative chestplate on top of the beige gown she had worn at her wedding. She wasn’t much of a dress woman and she hated pure white. It had worked quite well.
Merrill had worn a very simple and plain dress, attempting to not stand out since she was simply posing as Aveline’s servant. However, there were gasps and whispers once the men showed up. They seemed convincing enough, at least Seth and Anders most of all. Varric was still a dwarf, but simple enough that people didn’t give him a second glance. Fenris was still brooding despite everyone trying to get him to act right. He kept scratching his wig.
“Kaafas,” he cursed.
“Where did that idiot even say where the jewel was?” Seth murmured, looking around. Lady Monteforte was easy to spot as she was so bejeweled and decorated that it was almost hard to look at her with how shiny she was.
“I think he mentioned it might be in the lady’s room,” Varric answered.
“She could be wearing it,” Fenris growled, shielding his eyes from the horribly blinged woman.
“Maker I hope not,” Anders frowned. “We’d never get it off her that way.”
“We could always ask,” Varric shrugged. Everyone looked at him, eyebrows raised in disbelief. “Okay maybe not.”
“That guy did give you a description of what it looked like at least, right?” Aveline asked.
“Yeah, I went back to him before we came here to make sure we were looking for the right thing,” Varric said. “From the description, Lady Monteforte is definitely not wearing it. It’s too big. Like this size.” Varric made a shape with hands.
“Maker’s breath, no wonder it was stolen,” Anders said in amazement.
“Look, let’s just split up and see if we can find where it is. Merrill, Varric, maybe you two could sneak around and get upstairs and search the rooms up there,” Seth ordered.
“We’d need a distraction to make things easier,” Varric said.
Anders linked his arm with Seth’s. “Allow us, then.”
Without another word, Anders pulled Seth into the middle of the ballroom where other ladies had been dancing with each other. Seth’s face reddened in embarrassment as Anders twirled him about and then brought him close. “I can’t dance, Anders!” Seth whisper-shouted.
“Just follow my moves, love,” Anders winked.
The red and white dresses of Seth and Anders overtook the dance floor as both men elegantly flowed across it. The ladies around gasped and stared in amazement, even Lady Monteforte took a notice to them, watching with intent as these two strange noble ladies apparently stole the crowd’s breath away.
Seth had no clue how he was following Anders’s moves so well, but they just fell in line naturally. And Seth couldn’t help but just continue looking at Anders, his heart leaping in his chest. His smile was so beautiful and pure, the way his hair whipped across his face as they spun on the floor. The way his makeup caused his amber eyes to pop more.
Seth was in love. So in love. Maker this was worth it. He hadn’t even noticed Varric and Fenris and Merrill make their way upstairs because he was so distracted with Anders. In fact, the whole world just melted away and all he could see or feel was Anders.
He would die for this man.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Varric and the elves scoured every room on the upstairs floor until they finally got to the master bedroom. They probably should have started there considering all things, but what they found was not what they expected.
“Well shit,” Varric breathed when he opened the door. In the middle of the room was the body of Lady Monteforte’s husband. He lay in a pool of blood and right in the middle of his chest was the jewel, glowing and humming slightly.
“Blood magic,” Fenris growled.
“Isn’t it always,” Varric sighed. They entered the room and poked around a bit before even daring to touch the body.
Merrill had found a journal and called out when she did, reading some of the more recent entries. “’My husband retrieved the jewel and offered it to me. Such a lovely slave. He has done well and now his blood and body will prove useful for the ritual tonight. The coven will gather and under the guise of a ball, we will have all we need to take over Kirkwall.’” Merrill looked up with concern in her eyes.
Varric and Fenris just looked at each other, annoyance on their faces. “We can’t ever have a normal job can we?” Varric droned.
Fenris shook his head. “Well at least I get to do something fun at this miserable party.”
“Kill blood mages?” Varric asked.
Fenris nodded. “Kill blood mages.”
Merrill let out a squeak as Fenris pushed past her and grabbed the jewel from the man’s body. Then Fenris shoved it in her arms. “You hold this. Varric and I are going to deal with the witches. Get this out of the house.”
Merrill fumbled with the bloody jewel before nodding nervously and looking fro a window to climb out of.
“So, you think Anders’s invisibility spell actually worked?” Varric asked. “Because I haven’t felt Bianca this entire time.”
Fenris reached back and grasped around the air where his sword would have been. Sure enough, the blade was still there and as he unsheathed it, it shimmered into view, breaking the spell. “Guess he made them light too so we didn’t move weirdly,” Fenris shrugged.
Varric reached back and just like Fenris’s sword, Bianca shimmered into view as he pulled the crossbow out. “Let’s crash a party!”
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
How long had he been dancing? How long had he lost himself in those eyes? How long was Anders genuinely smiling? When did more people join the dance floor? How much time had passed? Had the others found what they were looking for?
Seth was lost. He couldn’t think of anything except Anders. He didn’t care about the dress anymore. He didn’t care how he looked anymore. He just never wanted Anders to let him go. He could have been enthralled by a desire demon, but wouldn’t have cared if it was Anders.
Then there was screaming and shouting that crashed into his fantasy. Anders’s smile quickly faded and the mage pulled Seth close to him. His head rested against one of Anders’s shoulder and both of them were breathing hard, dancing for who knows how long.
Then Seth felt the air start to cool and he noticed Anders was forming a ball of ice in one of his hands. Seth turned to look over his shoulder and saw Varric and Fenris fighting a group of women. He was so confused until the women began cutting themselves and using their blood to summon demons.
Oh great. Of course this was some sort of blood mage party. He was thankful, at least, for Anders’s spell he had cast on all their weapons before entering the house. He pulled away from Anders, heartbroken to do so, but took his staff out, the bladed staff shimmering into view and immediately launched a spark of lightning into the crowd of blood mages.
Aveline had pulled out her sword and shield, immediately jumping on the defensive against some women who turned on her. Some women were screeching and running out of the house.
Lady Monteforte looked pissed as her plans had been ruined. She let out a blood curdling screech as she unsheathed a blade and sliced a large gash across her chest, blood pooling out on the ground. From the blood she summoned demons. Seth turned to face her, looking at the blood on the ground.
He quickly glanced behind him, making sure everyone else was occupied with their battles. Anders noticed what he was doing and stepped in between him and their friends, continuing to offer support to them. Seth smirked as he looked back at the lady.
Use her own weapon against her.
Seth’s eyes began to glow red as he reached out toward her blood. The blood snaked back up her body, piercing into her skin and she screamed in pain as Seth turned her blood against her. The blood wrapped around her throat, squeezing and squeezing until all the blood seeped back into her body and then a moment later, she burst into gibblets. Seth shook his hand and his eyes returned to normal.
They cleaned up the rest of the demons and blood mages with ease, ending the party early and ending a cult. Just another day for Seth and his friends.
“So. Did you guys find the jewel?” Seth asked, wiping some blood from his face.
Varric nodded. “Gave it to Daisy and she ran with it, getting it off the premise.”
“I’m assuming our dear lady was using it for some sort of ritual,” Seth guessed.
“Is it a surprise?” Fenris snorted.
“Maybe we should tell our friend that his jewel was used for such nefarious purposes,” Aveline suggested.
“Either way, let’s get out of here.” Varric wiped his hands and began walking out. Aveline and Fenris followed.
Anders pulled Seth back for a moment. “I’m sorry we convinced you to dress like this. I hoped that maybe distracting you would make it more tolerable.”
Seth smiled. “It definitely worked. And I’m not surprised we managed to save the day again from blood mages,” Seth laughed.
“That’s just what we do,” Anders replied. Then he pulled Seth into a kiss. Seth had been wanting nothing more all night and leaned into it. When they pulled apart, Anders whispered into Seth’s ear. “Now let’s get home so I can tear that dress off you.”
Seth’s face went red and his eyes widened and his heart flipped again. The smile on Anders’s face left much to the imagination and Seth had the sudden urge to race back home.
But business was business first. Then, he could take Anders up on his offer.
Got inspired randomly to write a little drabble based on an idea I have had for a drawing for a long time. Lots of headcanons in here for the reason behind the gauntlets in Fable 3 and a little bit of lore for the Fable Family. Hope you enjoy! At the bottom will also be a link to the Ao3 form because I need to post there more, but I also wanna post full writings on tumblr for later readings and such.
Also I’m just happy I wrote. It’s been a long while since I wrote something like a story for a character or world so I’m happy.
They say there is a royal portrait that was commissioned when Aelyn was a little girl, but never saw the light of day; the missing painting, as Aelyn called it. She had free roam of the castle ever since becoming queen. Logan was often out doing community service which was something Aelyn sent him to do. It felt weird to command her older brother to community service, but it was a good deed. The people started to warm up to the former tyrant. Most would never understand why Logan did the things he did, but as long as they forgave him, that's all Aelyn cared about.
But the missing painting was a recent memory that came to Aelyn, something she wanted to solve. She was wandering the castle halls when, almost as if fate decreed, she came across a room she had never seen before. When she tried opening the doors, they stayed shut firm, locked.
Aelyn flagged down a guard asking them about the door and they said it had been locked for years ever since Logan was king. She demanded it unlocked for her as the new queen. The guard shrugged saying that only Logan has the key.
"Of course he does," Aelyn muttered as she dismissed the guard. She was queen now, she had a right to know what was in her castle.
Like a younger sibling up to antics, Aelyn traveled to her old room where Logan now slept. It was weird to have their rooms swapped, but Logan enjoyed the isolation of his new room. Gave him a break from some of the still persistent glares from servants and nobles.
As she opened the doors and stepped inside, she found it empty, but very clean. Maybe Jasper had been inside and cleaned it up, for the bed was made neatly and Aelyn knew her brother did not make his bed. Was she being a bad sister for snooping around her brother's room? Of course not. She was being a little sister.
Honestly she didn't know what she was looking for, but curiosity got the best of her.
If her brother were keeping a secret from her, where would he hide the key to it all? She scanned the room, moving around the open space before her eyes landed on a chest at the base of the bed. She shrugged and knelt before it, opening the heavy lid. Inside was his old royal garments. He didn't wear them often anymore unless he appeared in court by her side. He had said he was unworthy to wear the armor of a king, but Aelyn insisted he keep it. He was still her brother and still part of the royal family and she would not hear any other answers. That's what all the community service was for: to regain his honor.
She pulled out the breastplate and put it to the side. There was a large blanket at the bottom of the chest after she removed the rest of the royal garbs. She decided to reach in and pull out the large, velvet sheet. She hoped there was something secret underneath.
Much to her joy, there was.
Underneath the blanket was a very small box. She pulled it out and examined it. It was a very basic black box about the size of a book if not bigger. There were no carvings, engravings, fancy decorations, nothing. It was plain. The only thing there was was a small keyhole. Aelyn groaned. Where the hell was she supposed to find this key?
An idea popped in her head. She decided maybe it would be best to not snoop any further. She put the small box back, keeping a note to talk to Logan down the road about it, and then put everything else back and closed the chest's lid.
She ran down the stairs out of Logan's room and down the halls of the castle, rushing past servants who all casually stepped out the way obviously used the queen's habits of running down halls both as a full grown woman and little girl. She burst through the doors of her royal chambers and ran to her desk. She opened a drawer and pulled out a small kit given to her by Page.
A smile crept across her face as she ran back to the locked door, which happened to be in one of the halls that connected to her room. No wonder she never noticed it before. She wasn't really in this wing of the castle often before she became queen. She knelt down before the door and pulled out the tools from the small kit.
During the revolution, Aelyn learned the valuable skill of lock picking, having to get into places that weren't always easy to access. Walter had said he was glad she never learned this skill back in her childhood otherwise, she would have been even more of a menace.
She smiled as she fiddled with the lock, remembering what Page had told her, how to angle the picks and to feel the tumblers. As she worked on the lock, she wondered if her mother ever did such things. Logan told her stories about their mother being up to no good in her younger days. She wished she could have known more about Queen Sparrow, but Logan had stopped talking about her after he became king and swarmed with duties. Walter offered more tales, but it was still never enough.
The lock clicked and Aelyn tried the handle. The door opened with a creak into a small square room with no light. Aelyn stepped in, flicked her wrist and summoned a small fire with her gauntlet that lit up the room. She felt the humming vibration of magic coursing through her gauntlet and the slight tingle of Will in her blood.
There was quite a bit in this room, old furniture mainly, most covered by white, dusty sheets. There was a table with a few things on it. She walked over and saw there were gems, scraps of metal, a couple of gauntlets similar to the ones she wore although they held no stone. Against a chair there lay a sword, dull on one side and slightly curved. Aelyn's mouth dropped as her eyes landed on the blade.
This was the blade of her mother, a weapon called a katana from Eastern Samarkand. Aelyn had never seen one before, but knew it was the weapon her mother had carried during her earlier Hero days. Aelyn picked it up and weighed it. It felt nice in her hand, slightly heavier than her own sword, but with a few swings she got used to the weight. It was odd how only one side was sharp therefore leading to a different fighting style. She wondered if Logan knew how to use it and if he could teach her since he used a similar weapon, more elegant than the sword Aelyn was used to.
She put the blade down. She noticed there was a layer of dust to everything suggesting this room had not been disturbed for a long, long time. She continued deeper into the small chamber, fireball lighting the way, when she noticed a discarded crossbow at the base of a large rectangular covered object. Aelyn first picked up the crossbow noticing once again it belonged to her mother. Walter had told her how her mother hated guns. She had hated the sound they made and swore she would never use one. That's why she always carried a crossbow, despite the changing age.
It was a beautiful brass crossbow and resembled a few guns Aelyn had seen journeying across Albion. The bulk of the crossbow had six chambers where bolts could be housed - currently empty - and when Aelyn pulled the trigger, the chamber spun, supposedly locking a new bolt down to be fired rapidly. She didn't know how effective it would be nowadays, but back then during her mother's time, maybe it was still a viable weapon.
She put the crossbow aside and then finally looked at the rectangular object that leaned against the wall. She pulled the sheet up and gasped when she saw it.
A painted small child's face with a poof of white hair was revealed, sitting in the lap of painted younger boy with shoulder length black hair. She did not remember ever sitting for this painting, but she did remember how Logan used to look as a kid, telling its age. She pulled the sheet farther up, revealing more of the painting...
"Aelyn!"
Aelyn shrieked and dropped the sheet, spinning around quickly to see the source of the voice. Standing in the doorway with his basic clothes and hair tied into a small ponytail was her brother. The fire from her gauntlet revealed his scowling face.
"What are you doing in here?" he asked, his voice low and demanding.
Aelyn motioned to the old room. "I've never seen this room before and was curious. Lots of Mom's stuff in here."
Logan frowned even more. "You're not allowed in here."
"Says who?" Aelyn asked, putting one hand on her hip. "I'm the queen of Albion and this is my castle. I am allowed to go wherever I please."
Logan sighed and rolled his eyes then crossed his arms. "Not this room."
"What? It's just a dusty old storage room. I'm assuming this is where all of Mom's stuff was sent after she died?" Aelyn raised an eyebrow. "I don't understand why this is a big secret or something."
"Just get out," Logan commanded, stepping aside and motioning for her to leave. His voice was deep and stern, similar to how it sounded many times before as king. The hint of brotherly affection gone and replaced with something... Else.
Aelyn crossed her free arm. “No.” She turned back around, blatantly ignoring her brother’s growing frown and pulled at the sheet again. Her mother was revealed, standing behind Logan with a hand on his shoulder and a small smile on her old face. There was another person in the picture; Aelyn saw the shoulder of the last person, but the sheet was still covering it.
A hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her away from the painting. Aelyn cried out as she stumbled back and Logan pulled the sheet over the painting. “What the fuck, Logan?” she hissed, looking at him with glaring eyes.
“Get out of this room Aelyn. You’re not meant to see any of this stuff.”
Aelyn threw her hands up, the fireball extinguishing in the air. “And why the fuck not? This is all Mom’s stuff. And is that the damn painting that was never seen? Who is the other person in the painting?”
Logan had not turned around and was still holding the sheet, covering up the missing painting, his head lowered. “Because it’s not time for you to see any of this,” Logan said after a moment, then turned around. “I was going to show you when you were older and more mature.”
Aelyn scoffed. “Well I think I’m pretty fucking mature being queen and all. Also saving the goddamn world.” Her face started to heat up from anger.
Logan sighed. “This is something that needs to wait even longer than that.”
“Oh, so what? I can fight the fucking Crawler, kill one of my best friends, but you won’t let me see a stupid painting or tell me about Mom? What the hell are you hiding Logan? I thought we promised no more secrets between us?”
Logan glanced back at the painting, his frown now dissolved and replaced with a sad look. “I know, but this...” He sighed, unable to finish the sentence. He closed his eyes then stood straight. He moved forward and then wrapped his arm around Aelyn’s neck, pulling her out of the room. “I guess there’s no use in hiding it anymore so let’s go.”
Aelyn struggled against her brother for a bit, not wanting to leave the memories of her mother, but he held her firm and led her outside then back up to his room. When they were in the chamber, he let go of her and then knelt before the chest she had rummaged through just half an hour ago. He followed the motions she had performed pulling out his royal garments, the velvet sheet, and then the black box.
He stood up and turned towards her. “Mom gave this to me on her deathbed. She told me to look at it once she passed to learn about her biggest secret. Said I shouldn’t tell you until you got older, until you could understand what it all meant.” He put his hand in his shirt and then pulled out a key that was strung around his neck. He put the key into the box and it clicked open. He pulled out a fairly sized book with old pages sticking out. “This is Mom’s journal. It took me years to fully read the damn thing because her handwriting was horrible,” he chuckled. “But this is a telling of her journey all the way to her death.”
Aelyn moved forward, reaching towards the book. Logan passed it to her and she opened the ancient text. She squinted as she tried reading some of the words within the pages, but couldn’t make any sense of the horrible spelling and handwriting. “I didn’t know Mom was so shit at writing.”
Logan chuckled sadly. “She couldn’t read growing up, Aelyn. She learned to write when she was in her thirties. I’ll read it to you at a later date, but I wanted to show you this before I show you the full painting.” Aelyn looked up with a raised eyebrow and Logan simply motioned with his head for her to follow him back to the storage room. As they walked, Logan told her, “You were right. After Mom died, I had all of her things moved into that room. I wanted her memory close to me and I often went into that room reminiscing the times she and I shared together late at night, talking about her adventures, learning the secrets of the Hero blood, and me helping her transcribe royal decrees and such.”
Logan smiled as they reentered the room. He looked around for a minute before he saw a small orange stone covered in dust laying on the table. “You know Mom made your gauntlets right? She was experimenting with magic, wondering if there was a way non-Heroes could use Will. She never quite got the recipe right, but she did find a way to invoke the Will within your blood specifically without hurting you.” He turned to her, turning the stone in his hands, the light from the doorway making it shine slightly. “With your special condition, she wanted to find a way for you to use magic without hurting yourself. It’s why she spent the rest of her years experimenting. As a result she made these.” He held the stone up, which looked like a rougher version of the one that rested in the gauntlet on Aelyn’s hand. “Will solidified. Still only usable by those with Hero blood however.” Logan looked around for a small lantern and put it on the table. He held the stone in his right hand and then with his left, snapped his fingers. A small flame burst at the tip of his fingers and he shot it into the lamp, lighting up the room.
“Woah,” Aelyn whispered.
Logan chuckled. “Mom was teaching me how to use magic before her condition worsened. I hoped one day I could teach you, but...well you know what happened.”
“Wait...You’ve been able to use magic this whole time?” Aelyn gasped, absolutely amazed.
Logan shrugged. “Basic things. Not to your extent. Then again, you have the gauntlets helping you. They are focuses for your Will and they are attuned to very specific things like fire, lighting, blades.” Logan put the stone down next to the lantern then picked it up. “Mom was really intelligent and I sat with her many a night writing away in a book of all her notes. It’s why I know so much about Heroes and the way Will works. It’s a fascinating thing, magic. I’ll tell you more about it later.” He then walked to the back of the room where the painting remained covered. His smile dropped and his shoulders fell. “This,” he began as Aelyn stood next to him, “is the secret I have been dreading to tell you for a long time. Especially now.”
There was a moment of quiet before Logan finally reached out and grabbed the sheet. He took a deep breath and pulled the sheet off completely. He held the lantern up, illuminating the painting.
Aelyn studied the painting, the childish smile on her face as Logan held her on his lap. Sparrow stood behind them, a hand on Logan’s shoulder and a small smile on her old face. Her other arm was wrapped around the waist of another person whose arm was around her shoulder. It took Aelyn a moment to scan the face before she recognized with absolutely disgust who the person was.
The square jaw, heart-shaped mole, and ruffled hair belonged to a man she despised. Belonged to a man who had his filthy arm wrapped around her beloved mother’s shoulder in this painting. “Is that fucking Reaver?” Aelyn knew the answer because who else could it be? That face was so recognizable to her even in a painting that was clearly from almost twenty years ago. Although, it didn’t even look like he aged. He was painted as he looked now.
Logan slowly nodded. “Reaver was Mother’s closest advisor, just like he was mine.”
Aelyn scoffed. “I know why he was yours, for business and shit, but why the hell was he Mom’s?”
“Well...he’s the reason Mom became a queen, Aelyn. Reaver is the reason for a lot of things in our family...Including...you and I.” Silence filled the small room as Logan’s words hung in the air.
Aelyn turned to him slowly. “What do you mean by that?” she narrowed her eyes. Logan looked down at her.
