I’m still not 100% settled on every aspect of Hakona’s Deadfire “canon,” but pitting her against Death Guards and obtaining the Fonferrus is a must. I have an idea of Hakona attempting to officially leave the Bleak Walkers somewhere within Deadfire’s timeline, but running into the political snag that is her high profile status and thus, the way her leaving poses a threat to their reputation (since most Walkers exit via death, suicide, or grievous injury or age). even with her newfound status as Berath’s Special Errand Girl, she still comes into conflict with them.
so I have a vague fic idea of linking the face-off with Rivan and obtainment of the Fonferrus to Hakona finally getting the Bleak Walkers off her back (in a “I am the scariest bitch on these high seas, and Berath likes me best, and I will turn bleak war against you” kind of way), because it’s all about death + rejecting and recontextualizing it, and that kind of thing needs layers.
but first I need to, uh. progress Hakona’s Deadfire game. 😅
Oooh "you see everyone so clearly except yourself" for pillars of Eternity would be amazing!
thank you for the prompt!
this inspired a scene with Miervaldis and Grieving Mother, which was not supposed to be sad, but then Miervaldis took it off in a different direction like he always does. Still, I hope you enjoy!
(AO3)
The Grieving Mother has a name, buried somewhere deep in her soul. But she has hidden it away, and out of courtesy Miervaldis does not pry. He understands the desire to shroud the past. He understands too the feeling of being not understood, of watching others in silence, of the desire to choose who sees the truth of oneself.
It is ironic, in a way. Miervaldis is a priest of Berath, and the Grieving Mother is a midwife. One shepherds souls into the world, and the other keeps watch as they depart. And yet for their apparent differences, the two are very similar.
The Grieving Mother has hidden her memories so deeply within herself that even she cannot reach them. Not on her own. But Miervaldis is a Watcher, and she is a powerful cipher, and between the two of them they uncover the broken pieces of her past, bit by scattered bit.
When the last piece is found and they have formed a full picture, Miervaldis wonders if he should have let them remain lost.
“I did not mean to cause pain,” the Grieving Mother says, her eyes shut tight against the memories. “It was what they wanted. I gave them comfort and guidance, as I always did. I never intended…” She shakes her head, her long dark hair rustling with the movement. “I thought I was doing right. I thought it was what they needed.”
“You may have been correct,” Miervaldis says, and the Grieving Mother halts in her self-admonition to look at him with dark, desperate eyes. “Correct in some manner, at least. You did know what they wanted of you. That’s the essence of it, I believe. The gift and curse of ciphers. Of Watchers, too, in a way. You see into them, their true thoughts, their beliefs and desires. You see everyone so clearly, except for yourself. You cannot dissect your own mind, just as I cannot resolve my own soul. But you convince yourself that you are what they think you are, and that through filling the role they wish of you, you find your purpose.”
“I thought I was doing right,” she repeats. “It was what I was supposed to give. They saw me as good, and so I was. What I did…it helped.” She sighs, a long, exhausted sound. “Until it didn’t. And then they saw me as a monster. Perhaps I was that as well.”
“Sometimes, fate can be cruel,” Miervaldis says evenly. “Sometimes doing the right thing can still wrong.” He feels the turmoil in the Grieving Mother’s soul, as glaring as the winter sun, and slowly places a hand on her shoulder. She trembles at the touch, but does not shy away. “That does not make one a monster.”
The Grieving Mother is quiet for a moment, and then says in her wind-whisper voice, “You are defined by your gifts as I am, and through them we have both found our path in this world. It was a path I was happy to walk, once, but now I find myself frozen in place. I cannot continue, knowing what I have done, and yet I cannot stray.”
“What would you have me do?” Miervaldis asks, although he already knows the answer. He can see the wish pulsing through her soul.
Absolution.
“Cleanse my soul of these memories,” she says. “I tried to hide them away, but my efforts only resulted in their fracture. You…you could erase them fully, and I will be free to continue forward in peace.”
It would be an act of mercy, Miervaldis knows. Just as The Grieving Mother’s initial deceptions were an act of mercy, for both parents and children. But mercy only delayed their pain, and in the end their peace could not last.
But The Grieving Mother knows this. She is no fool, and she now remembers fully her deeds and their consequences. Yet she still asks. Peace is too tempting a promise to give up, and Miervaldis has seen the end of enough lives to know that sometimes, peace is all that can be offered. It is the Usher’s greatest gift, oft overlooked and yet deeply treasured. Surely Berath would not begrudge this request?
Perhaps these are the reasons he agrees. Perhaps he knows this is what the Grieving Mother wants of him, and does not have it within him to deny her a refuge from her harsh reality, just as she once could not deny others. They are, after all, very similar.
The Grieving Mother had a name, once. Miervaldis wipes it away, along with the remnants of a fractured memory and ruined life. He hopes his actions will help, and worries they will not. He wonders if he is allowing himself to be blinded by mercy just as she once was.
Which is more valuable, truth or mercy? He muses to himself as he carefully washes over the woman’s memories. The question stirs something within him, echoing other unanswered questions within his own soul even as he banishes the secrets of another. You always see other more clearly than you do yourself, he thinks again ruefully. The curse of ciphers and Watchers alike.
When it is done, Miervaldis can at least comfort himself with the fact that this was what the Grieving Mother wanted. Peace, of the same kind she could not resist granting to others.
They are very similar, but still he hopes the story will end differently this time around.
River reed and springberry please for the poe1 asks! What a great list!
It is a great list, thanks again to @pillarsheadcanons for compiling it 🥰 and thank you for asking 💖
River Reed: What is your Watcher's biggest fear?
Losing her mind to the Inquisitor was definitely it, although that gets temporarily pushed down on her list of things-to-be-scared-of bc the Eyeless destroying Caed Nua worried her a teeny tiny bit more then.
Springberry: How has your Watcher changed during the events in game? How different are they from where they began as part of the caravan?
Gaura didn't change all that much in PoE 1, I feel like the timeskip and Deadfire changes her a lot more. She already did a lot of guiding and exploring even in the Living Lands, and basically she kept doing that but with a lot more on her shoulders.
Saw your gale voice tags and I believe it's been confirmed that the voice is Tim Downie x
Oh thank you SO MUCH!! I just had a look on his Twitter and see he confirms it there. It also seems he’s an autism support advocate so that’s good with me too.
Thanks so much for clearing this up for me! I did think it would be weird for Larian to hire Greg Ellis and I’m so glad they didn’t.
I just saw you're playing pillars!!! As you can probably tell I'm going through a real pillars moment. Tell me about your Watcher!
Same hat!! Pillars has been on my radar for a few years now and I honestly wish I had tried it sooner.
Istes is my moon godlike Watcher, an explorer Paladin from the White that Wends. I’m playing her as a “good” person, as to be expected with a member of the Kind Wayfarers, but with the idea of “good is not nice,” I guess? She’s very honest to a fault, sometimes in a way where lying is kinder, but frankly—I don’t think they had soldier listed, so I went with explorer as next best choice. But she’s used to speaking plainly and doing what she feels is the best option, for everyone.
I’m still figuring her out since I’ve only been playing a few hours in, but what I do know so far—late twenties/early thirties, ex-soldier, was looking to turn over a new leaf when she got an offer to the Gilded Vale, has seen enough oddities from her time as a soldier that she’s honestly trying to keep this Watcher business in stride. I’m thinking she’s going to become good buddies with Edér, they seem to function a lot on the same wavelength so far.
Druxy - Something which looks good on the outside, but is actually rotten inside.
He looks at the full length mirror in his Inquisitor’s room while she sleeps, softly snoring. In the early morning light, he sees...
Blackwall, a famous Grey Warden,
Blackwall, a shield to the weak.
Blackwall, a brave man who protects his comrades.
Blackwall, who stands at his Lady’s side against the darkness.
But, upon closer inspection, he sees the true man staring back at him.
Thom Ranier, a Mercenary Captain
Thom Ranier, a murderer of children.
Thom Ranier, a man who cowardly left his comrades to die.
Thom Ranier, a liar who cannot even tell the truth to the woman thinks she loves him.
Were it not her mirror, he’d punch a hole through the glass, to destroy the man in front of him, but as per usual, he cannot bring himself to even look away in shame. He shouldn’t have come here, he shouldn’t have confessed to her, made her choose. But of course, he doesn’t even have the guts to break it off with her himself.
The sheets rustle, and her gentle breathing stutters.
“Blackwall? Is everything alright?” Every time she calls him by that name, his heart is pierced, the rot in his soul coming closer to bursting out. But for now, for her sake, he clamps down on it.
‘It’s nothing, My Lady, just some early morning musing,” he fakes a smile.
She returns his deception with a beautiful truthful smile, “Well, come do your early morning musing in bed,” as she pats the empty side of the mattress.
He slowly climbs back under the sheets with her, as she sighs contentedly in his arms, he can only pray to the Maker that his rot will not spread to her.
I wanna dispute that Gorim is minor though! I mean I guess he is if you don't play Aeducan but otherwise I'd class him as supporting player. Like he might get a good listing in the credits.
Yeah that did occur to me but I was like fuck it.
Someone reblogged with Niall so I thought....Gorim is about in that area, if that’s how I’m gauging this.
Plus if a character is THAT minor I’m not stanning them, I need SOME level of involvement. Like the original post is about Caroll, and....he was kind of funny, but I’m not stanning that.
Also to most people Gorim is just “fine dwarven crafts guy” which is tragic. He will remain a somewhat aggravating NPC, not even a character, to most.
ALSO also I figured most people would reblog that post about Jowan and Tamlen maybe a Gilmore or two so I figured I had to represent.
