I pushed through my writing weirdness today and got a chapter of In the Embers out. It was mostly written I just had to string it together so that isn't saying much. But! I'm happy with it. (Word count: 5k-ish)
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
It's the last chapter before the rest of the Warden-Recruits show up.
I also snuck the last two weeks of A Word with Friends in there (snippets below). Thank you so much to everyone who tagged me in them-- @hedwigoprah (extra thanks for the game!) @serensama (and extra thanks for sharing a word) @woundedsoul12 @notyourmamasdeerbat @biowaredisasterbisexual and I'm sure there were others that I've missed. Thank you so much!
Our words are:
Pernicious | August 11 Adjective • Causing much harm in a subtle way. • Causing death or injury; deadly.
Iniquity | August 18 Noun • Deviation from what is right; wickedness, gross injustice. • An unfair act or unconscionable deed. • Hostility, malevolence, lawlessness. • Denial of the sovereignty of God.
Wynne waited for her just outside of the Magi tents, taking a few trays when she got close enough. "I'm so sorry."
The healer chuckled, shaking her head. "Uldred's only just returned, you're fine."
Still, the senior enchanter grumbled a "finally" when they entered with the lunch trays.
"Most of us have been ordered into the Fade tomorrow," he revealed as the food was passed around. "The rest will be preparing the Joining for the Wardens."
"Exhausting us the day before the battle," questioned another. "To what end?"
"We're to do our best to ascertain the threat and see if we can find sign of the archdemon. They're convinced it's a true Blight."
"Wouldn't we have heard about a dragon gallivating around?"
Uldred snorted. "You'd think. Still, the king commands us, so we do it. He's to arrive in the morning and he'll find us obedient, lest we spend the rest of his rule locked away in Kinloch."
Aware that she was well below the rank of a mage who should be privy to such details, she tried to back out when Wynne rejoined her near the tent's entrance.
"Wynne," Uldred called, stopping them both. "You'll have command of the camp tomorrow."
"As you wish." She bowed her head. "In the meantime, you know where to find me."
The other mage waved her away dismissively, and Wynne shared a tight smile with her fellow healer before they left. Once they were back in the apothecary, Elona let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding. Of all the senior enchanters, Uldred put her most on edge; his eyes had a look that haunted her, a look that had told her he had seen too much.
"Isn't he your junior?" She blurted out before she could think better of it.
Rarely offended, Wynne simply chuckled. "Uldred doesn't believe anyone is his junior."
"Surely the First Enchanter—"
"It's best to keep that opinion between us," Wynne cautioned. "Now, tell me about this handsome lad that came calling."
Elona flushed as she tied back her hair and began to roll up her sleeves, preparing to get back to work. "He's my brother. I know I shouldn't…"
As she chewed on the inside of her cheek, Wynne simply began to cut down the dried stalks of elfroot. "Arran or Fergus?"
For a moment the younger mage's mouth hung open; she had expected a lecture, but so much had changed in their relationship once she was no longer an apprentice. "Fergus."
"And the rest of the Couslands?"
"Arriving tomorrow," she explained. "They were delayed by one of my father's friends, Howe."
"I'm sure I can find some errands that need running tomorrow afternoon." They split the dried plants between them and began to prepare them in sync. "Family is important, Elona. I know what the Chantry says, but I trust you can retain control of your emotions to weather a visit? I trust it won't cause any pernicious repercussions?"
"Of course," she said, quickly and firmly. "Thank you, Wynne."
Together they worked in silence for a time before a runner stuck their head into the tent, calling the senior enchanter away. She was able to pack two more crates of potions for the king's camp thanks to the bounty her brother had brought. It had just been a silly excuse to see her, but it would help more than he ever knew. The thought alone brought a smile to her lips, and she said a quiet prayer that his expedition would go well.
“I went to a Harrowing once,” he confessed. “It didn’t go well.”
“Oh,” she breathed the word. “At Kinloch?”
“That poor mage,” Alistair sighed. “I couldn’t imagine watching any more of them; I didn’t have much interest in being a templar after that.”
For a moment she hesitated, but then she laid a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry.”
He startled a little and she jerked her hand back. When he tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at her, she wondered if she should leave. “I tried to forget most of that night, but one thing I do remember - aside from the blood and the burning hair - was a mage who put her hand on my arm while I was hyperventilating.”
Her mouth fell open in surprise. “I had to use magic to calm you.”
“And then you dealt with the Knight-Recruit that actually got hurt.”
“Cullen,” she nodded. “His whole arm was…It took a long time to heal.”
“Wow,” Alistair laughed. “Small world.”
She smiled and looked back up at the stars. The night replayed in her mind - her heart racing as she rushed up the endless stairs of the Circle still half-asleep, the foul smell of burning that wafted from the Harrowing chamber and churned her stomach, sounds of agony hurrying her steps as she looked over the templars who had already staggered down the stairs, the haunted look in his eyes as he'd been in the midst of a panic attack - and she'd always wondered what had happened to him. Cullen had been assigned to Kinloch, but the other templar had disappeared.
“Do you ever wonder–”
Her voice filled the quiet library, startling the templar that sat near her. The Knight-Recruits were usually given night patrols - probably because the older templars couldn’t be bothered - and in the past that had meant it was too risky to visit the library then; the recruits were still young, given to youthful urges and iniquities of the flesh, the Chantry sisters would say. Mages knew to protect themselves. But Cullen had been different–quiet, gentle, serious. It was safe to curl up in a blanket in a corner of the library on nights she couldn’t sleep as long as he was the one patrolling.
When she looked up from her book at him - a romance novel one of the new apprentices had smuggled in and hidden amongst the histories - she started to second guess her question. It was something she would ask Arran or Neria, so she had just started to blurt it out. She considered Cullen a friend, but he was still a templar.
“Sorry, it’s silly,” she deflected. “Don’t worry about it.”
“You can ask me anything,” he assured her, “even something silly.”
Candlelight flickered through his earnest gaze, the fire casting shadows over the patchy stubble he had begun to grow. If she didn’t ask something, he would be disappointed. She hated disappointing people.
“It’s just…” She pushed strands of hair that escaped her messy bun behind her ear as she turned more toward him. “Well, my father told me once that the Maker creates someone for everyone–a perfect match. Do you ever wonder if it’s possible to find them when you’re somewhere like this?”
At first he only gaped at her, and she laughed softly and shook her head. “I told you it was silly.”
“N-no,” he managed, and when he ducked his head, his blonde curls fell onto his brow. “I mean–no, it isn’t silly, to wonder about that… If, well, the Maker does create someone for everyone, then He would know where to send them so you could find them. Probably, um, even here.”
Even though he couldn’t meet her eyes, she smiled. “You’re right. I’ll remember to have faith in His plan.”
For a time she had been reassured by his words, and eventually it became easier to ignore the need to belong to someone by belonging to something. Love became a small splinter in her skin, something she could ignore by turning her mind to another topic. The Maker had given her magic, and helping others was a bandage she pressed over it.
For some reason her chest ached when she thought about the incredible coincidence that had unfolded. They'd been brought back together, their paths overlapping once again. When she glanced back at him, she caught him watching her and his resulting smile was equal parts shy and intrigued.
Passing along tags to: @maagisterpavus @handsignals @picathartidae @davrinsleftpectoral @blackwall-my-tiny-husband @jenn2d2 @in-the-drowning-deep @p0lkadotdotdot @celestialteapot @thedastrash @kayundae @briannasroger @nirikeehan @redheadsramblings @babydinosaur930 @draco-illius-noctis @nyx-de-riva @wolfmoonwildflowers @theluckywizard @gutz-ingellvar @jukkaricity @the-font-bandit @silent-words @fiberpunk027 @chaosherald @rooks-dagger @grand-crow and if you wanna play with words with us - there's never any time limit on the words, you can join in whenever you want and find all the words here! - then here's a tag for:
A Warden And A Crow’s one year anniversary on AO3! In celebration, I thought it might be fun to share a ✨✨✨LORE DROP✨✨✨ regarding Thedas’ canon worldstate in the Naimyverse! I’m sharing my raw brainstorming notes with you all! And then a wittle snippie snippie at the end 🥰 enjoy!
And here’s the rest of the snippet:
“Lizzy,” she said hoarsely.
Leliana paused her strumming, tilting her head towards Lizzy as though she hadn’t heard her.
“You can call me Lizzy,” she repeated, glancing across the fire to Markus. “Both of you, if you’d like.”
Markus paused mid-bite, not seeming to fully understand. “Why?”
“It’s... a nickname,” she squirmed under his quizzical gaze. “My... my family used to call me Lizzy, and a close friend of mine, when we weren’t in proper company. I’m comfortable with the two of you also calling me by it, if.. if you want to.”
“I ain’t doin’ that,” Markus said flatly, going back to his meal. Leliana looked disgruntled and opened her mouth, but Lizzy reached out and patted her forearm, shaking her head. She was growing accustomed to Markus’s gruff, unpolished and impersonal mannerisms, and had not taken offense.
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Aaaaand now I want to go replay Origins another hundred times 😅 which Warden are you most excited to learn more about??
The exiled princess, Korvinna Aeducan?
The gruff criminal, Markus Brosca?
The orphaned noble, Lysandra Cousland?
Or the Hero of Ferelden, Saimaeria Mahariel?
Drop their name and your question in my ask box, and I’ll get to it as soon as I can!
My wardens answering the lamppost question (with bonus Red’s warden)
Alistair: have you ever licked a lamppost in winter?
Alim: so, so many ;)
Marta: I get your meaning but lampposts aren’t exactly a good analogy for what I like… (trails off to think of a more exact analogy)
Oriana: ew no. Wait, in a euphemistic way? Still no, not really.
Aedan (Red’s warden): Yeah, this one time my brother dared me to and my tongue got stuck, and Mum had to come and save me with some warm water, and both she and Fergus couldn’t stop laughing… why are you all looking at me like that?
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 6/?
Fandom: Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age (Video Games)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Leliana/Female Warden, Leliana/Female Mahariel, Female Cousland/Leliana, Female Cousland/Female Mahariel, Female Cousland/Female Mahariel/Leliana
Characters: Leliana (Dragon Age), Female Mahariel, Alistair (Dragon Age), Morrigan (Dragon Age), Dog (Dragon Age), Sten (Dragon Age), Zevran Arainai, Tamlen, Female Cousland, Female Tabris, Wynne
Additional Tags: Fantasy Violence, clueless warden, and other things, Multiple Wardens, we also have the gracious presence of, warden cousland the gay, warden tabris the murderous, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con
Series: Part 1 of I Found A Family In You, Part 1 of The World As I See It, Is A Beautiful Place
Summary:
"Reach down into your heart and you'll find many reasons to fight. Survival. Honor. Glory. But what about those who feel it's their duty to protect the innocent? There you'll find a hero savage enough to match any dragon and in the end they will retain what the others don't: their humanity."
Meiriana Mahariel fought for the survival and protection of her clan. Then in 9:30 that changed with one simple touch of a mirror.
Ella Cousland fought for the honor of the Cousland name, until her father's closest friend betrayed them all and she was forced to flee.
Kallian Tabris fought to protect her family. When she failed in that she fought for revenge.
Now they all fight for one thing: To protect all the innocents in Ferelden from the Blight.
It’s been a while since the last chapter of this was posted, I apologize. Chapter 6 is here now. Welcome to the new Grey-Wardens. Also thanks to better planning on my part this fic could alternatively be subtitled “Or: What if Bioware had actually used actual politics for the imagined/implied time period and Cousland was allowedto actually ply their name during the quests?” sidenote not sure ply is the word I am looking for.
So, hypothetically, if m!Surana and f!Surana existed in the same universe as siblings or cousins, they would each be sent to different Circles, right? So one would obviously be sent to Kinloch Hold...I'm trying to figure out where they would send the other, bc there doesn't seem to be any more Circles in Ferelden. In the Free Marches, maybe?
Sketch of my Grey Wardens (During the Inquisition years), along with a few basic...summaries from a story i’m trying to write.
Fenlen Tabris
In this life it was either to submit or waste away. To live in a world bounded by shackles and forced to serve men who believe themselves gods on earth. Or be shepherd together in small tenants, free, but hated by the wealthy. Slave or rat. Neither choices will he, a city-dweller, shall chose. He shall be no-one's pet. He was the force who lingers in the shadows. A dagger between ribs. A duelist. A ranger. A Survivalist.
Branden Amell
Fire. Ice. Lighting. It was all at the tips of his fingers. All that power. Yet, he was feared, and hated. Forced to live in a single place--a prison--for the rest of his days. He understood their fear. Many men and women who had such magic used it more for evil rather for good. Long ago, he accepted his fate, and lived in obedience. Times change, as do people. With these dark times approaching, he--a mage--has to take charge. Be someone everyone least expects him to be. To be a Leader.
Gem Aeducan
Who was he to these people of the underground. A prince? General? A second Son. He once believed he was all and nothing more than that. Power was what got one killed. He wanted nothing to do with it. However, with power, comes hatred and jealousy. After that is betrayal. Politics and tremendous lies has forced away him away. An exiled prince he’s become. Later a Champion
Kason Cousland
Smile big, curtsey and look pretty. That is what everyone expected. Because she was a Teryn’s Daughter, her family being the highest class beneath the King. A girl most can admire at. She was a lady, not a warrior. Not a templar or reaver. But she has a thirst. A thirst for blood. Slowly she was being succumbed with the need of vengeance. No longer is she the young girl with a heart of gold and voice of kindness. She was strong. A soldier. A Fighter.
Namari Mahariel
Sulevin ghilana hanin. Guide to certain glory. A phrase mutter once by her long passed father. One that she must live up to. How could she? She was simply a hunter part of a forgotten kingdom. An elf not worthy of being a Keeper’s daughter. Nothing she could do can make up for that. Thus the illness in her veins might be a chance. To give her the strength to bring glory to her people. She was a tempest in a night’s storm. A Shadow.
