Fandom: Dragon Age Origins
Pairing: Hespith/Branka
Rating: Mature
Summary: A hand pressed against her shoulder, firm yet gentle. Hespith glanced at Branka, her heart pounding hard in her chest, stomach twisting in excitement… something she’d long thought she was incapable of. But with Branka, everything seemed within reach. Nothing seemed impossible.
Words: 773
Additional Tags: DA Fucked Up Ship Week, Day 5- Corruption, Gore, The Blight, Canonical Character Death, The Deep Roads, Toxic Relationships, Flashbacks
This fic was written for @dafuckedupshipsweek, Day 5- Corruption/Codependency. There is quite a bit of gore and blight mentions here, so you've been warned.
Read on AO3
The sounds were coming from inside of her head.
A rhythmic thump thump like that of a heartbeat, a noise that’d drive even the most stalwart of people to madness, and the dwarves of Orzammar were hardier than most. But there was only so much even a hardened veteran of the Deep Roads could take. Hespith might’ve been born warrior caste, but what had happened here, what was allowed, was different than anything she’d prepared for.
Now, Hespith was left with nothing but the echoes of a past much missed and no future on the darkened horizon.
The dead barely held a smell any longer as she sat among them, piles of flesh nothing more than shapeless forms against rock, a festering sight that barely registered. The screams had faded days ago, no one left to sacrifice to the darkspawn. Yet the song persisted, blight coursing in her blood, every second agony as her body fought the corruption, fought the change. The only food left for her to consume was her dead kin, their corpses holding little sustenance. Their flesh tasted like rot and death, black blood staining her tongue.
Discovery of the Anvil will elevate House Branka farther than any Paragon could’ve ever dreamed.
Those were the words of a woman whose greed knew no bounds, even if it meant the entire destruction of her House. Still, Hespith loved Branka with every fiber of her being. Her heart was the only part of her unchanged while the rest of her body slowly turned into a monstrosity, succumbing to a fate worse than death.
Her heart continued to beat only for Branka, despite the betrayal, despite the horrors she’d put them through. Maybe, somewhere, deep down in the dark recesses of her own heart, Branka still loved her too.
A hand pressed against her shoulder, firm yet gentle. Hespith glanced at Branka, her heart pounding hard in her chest, stomach twisting in excitement… something she’d long thought she was incapable of. But with Branka, everything seemed within reach. Nothing seemed impossible.
Everything felt right.
A cough violently shook her body, each hack spewing vile liquids as dark as the unlit tunnels of the Deep Roads. The song had started again, slightly louder than last time, and she tried to shield her mind as best as she could. There’d come a time when she no longer fought against the siren’s call. She’d become a broodmother, those awful creatures who only created more darkspawn, created more blight.
Would Branka spare her that fate? Or would she rejoice in her experiments, watching as the corruption took her lover, the final connection she had left to House Branka, to Orzammar, gone?
A kiss to her temple had been the first romantic contact between them. A quick touch of Branka’s lips against her brow, before she’d moved on to speak to one of her warriors, a sparkle in her eye. And it was in that moment Hespith knew she’d follow the Paragon in the very heart of the Deep Roads, death all but certain.
She wasn’t scared to die. But to live at Branka’s side, to share in her victories, there wasn’t an existence more honorable than that.
The sparkle Branka once held was gone, replaced by a gleam that left Hespith sick to her stomach. This was partly her fault, as well. She’d trusted Branka, believed in her. Their entire house had. Now they were dead, some blighted and forever changed, others bloodied and left as piles of flesh, carrion for the corrupted.
So why did she crave that softness still?
Fingers brushed through her hair, tangling into the strands before Branka gripped a handful roughly, pulling Hespith closer, lips just out of reach.
“You’re mine, Hespith.” She whispered, voice rough from the few hours of sleep they’d managed. “We will finish this together and when we return to Orzammar, I’ll be rid of Oghren and you… you will be by my side until we return to the Stone.”
From where they lay, Hespith could see the work they’d done before falling onto the bedroll: maps and hundreds of years of research into Caridin, into the Anvil. There were hardships to get here but to be with Branka, it was all worth it.
“Until we return to the Stone.”
Branka could not be forgiven, not after what she’d done. Not after what she’d taken.
But when the warden finally took her life, for he would because it was what she deserved, Hespith wouldn’t abandon her. They return to the Stone together, corrupted stains of former glory, past forgiveness and hope.
"Aveline spends so much time being responsible, guarded, and focused on everyone else that seeing her become flustered and uncertain around Donnic is incredibly endearing, and Donnic himself has this quiet, genuine appeal that suits her well."
"aveline/donnic is soooo dear to me sorryyy. like they are both so awkward about it in the most lovable way possible?? no game no swagger just two people standing there like um. hi. hello. and somehow that is MORE romantic to me than half the dramatic dragon age ships lmao. i love that with them it’s all about the slow burn and the fumbling and everyone around them being like oh my god just kiss already. they’re cute!!! let awkward adults find love!!!"
vs. Branka/Hespith
"The toxicity, the doom, the way Branka's voice cracks when she admits she's sacrificed even Hespith for the Anvil and thus cannot turn back. Hespith, all alone, lamenting what was done to House Branka and not explaining until the end that, no, the worst part was that Branka allowed it. She enabled all that. And it seems like she left Hespith for last, possibly hoping that it wouldn't come to that. I just wonder how that would have gone if Branka had reached the Anvil before it was Hespith's turn. I can't see this working out well, even if they managed to return to Orzammar.
And even before all this, the way Branka wasn't even trying to hide the fact that she was cheating on Oghren (why would she? She's a Paragon) with HIS COUSIN. The way she and Hespith spent hours researching the Anvil. They could have been so good if Branka wasn't driven mad by her search."
Rating: Mature (Warning for descriptions of Blight sickness)
Summary: Hespith promises to follow Branka to the ends of the world, to support her in her mission to find the Anvil of the Void. Sometimes love demands too much. A short retelling of the Anvil storyline, with an altered ending.
read here on ao3!
The expedition’s start comes any day now, preparations have been made and all that is left is for the living to make up their final decisions before the departure. Hespith lays in Branka’s bed, running a hand through the woman’s short, choppy hair. There is nothing left in Orzammar for her. She has said her goodbyes and settled her affairs. All that she has left is the woman at her side and the love that simmers in her veins.
