#while time remains

[warpedlegacywrites]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love ❤️

Thank you for this ask @blarrghe!

Swept Away: Josephine Montilyet/Isabela. M. 75,162 words. This project was a real labor of love from start to finish. It was also the first work I ever made a concentrated effort to finishing before I published it. And the result, I think, is all the stronger for it. I adore this pairing as well, and I'm not usually given to rare pairs, but these two just sing to me. They fit so perfectly together, and I had so much fun imagining how that might happen. Major thanks to @rakshadow for being my ever-patient and ever-wise beta. And to @theluckywizard for the lovely artwork she contributed. You both helped this story take shape!

Lead Her Through the Darkness: Genfic. T. 3,121 words. One-shot. This was my first gift fic for an OC swap exchange, and I swear from start to finish I was possessed with this character. Ixchel is such an amazing protagonist and the symbolism around her, especially her name, felt such a vital piece of that, I wanted to explore that a bit. I am humbled and honored that @dreadfutures has taken this idea and run with it in her own canon. <3

Seeker, It's Cold Outside: Varric Tethras/Cassandra Pentaghast. T. 5,242 words. One-shot. Writing vitriolic banter is like 95% of the reason why I adore this pairing so much. Their dynamic is so messy, doomed from the start, but no less worthy of a story to be told just because the ending I foresee for them isn't an unambiguously happy one. It's moments like this one where I see them able to unpack themselves a little bit around each other, and that's so important for them both.

Fiercely Perish: Dorian Pavus/The Iron Bull. M. 23,033 words. Die Hard, but in Thedas. This was an April Fool's Day fic some years ago, and it remains a fic I look on fondly for how much unbridled fun it was to write. I especially love people recognizing the source material as they read and leave comments. It brings me such joy. This is also probably one of the sillier fics I've written, and I don't give myself the opportunity to lean into humor as often as angst. This is just. Fun. It's fun. I love it. ^_^

While Time Remains: Series. Cullen Rutherford/OC!mage!Trevelyan. M. 189,699 words, 2/4 planned arcs published. WIP. I'm cheating a little bit on this one since it's a series rather than one isolated fic. But the series is one continuous story, so I think I can count that. This was the series I turned to when I stalled on my main DAI-timeline longfic. Writing this gave me a chance to finally sink my teeth into the Cullen/Theresa pairing that I was longing for so badly with my main fic's slow burn. It also helped me really start to shape my voice as a writer, learning how to pace a story so that one arc felt complete while still being part of a greater whole. And it helped me discover my strengths as a writer, and grow in my confidence. But more than that, I was able to develop Theresa and Cullen's relationship beyond my wildest dreams. They've grown just as much as I have throughout the course of writing and planning this story for them, that was only originally conceived as a sweet and lighthearted domestic fluff series of vignettes. An epic, vast-sweeping story has grown out of those humble origins, and I can't wait until it's all finished and published so people can enjoy it in its entirety! ^_^

[warpedlegacy]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Tensions rise between Rosalie and Theresa when Rosalie accidentally pushes up against some of Theresa's trauma from the Circles. Cullen and Rosalie have a heart to heart about some of his own trauma from Kirkwall.

DAFF tag list: @rakshadow, @rosella-writes, @effelants, @bluewren, @breninarthur, @ar-lath-ma-cully, @dreadfutures, @ir0n-angel, @inquisimer, @crackinglamb, @theluckywizard, @nirikeehan, @oxygenforthewicked, @exalted-dawn-drabbles, @melisusthewee, @blarrghe, @agentkatie

“This is serious!” Cullen takes the seat opposite her and leans in like he’s divulging some dark secret. “The Chantry may not officially condemn apostates anymore, but that doesn’t mean everyone has forsaken the hunt.”  His fingers fiddle absently with the silk cord hanging from his neck while he talks, until Cal comes over to rest his head in his lap, and Cullen reaches down to scratch him behind the ears.  “I only wanted to identify the species,” Rosie protests weakly, turning to Theresa for support. “It’s embrium. I can make more salve for your hay fever.”  “Thank you.” Theresa takes the seat on Cullen’s left, resting her hand on his forearm as she sends an apologetic smile across to Rosie. “But Cullen’s not wrong. There is still strong opposition to the dissolution of the Circles, and much lingering fear and hatred.” Rosie can’t help rolling her eyes. “I wasn’t being reckless. I checked first, and no one was looking. I’m not stupid enough to get caught.”   Theresa’s eyes flash a quiet warning. “How fortunate for you,” she says with a tone that could lower the temperature of the whole room, “that you were kept hidden from those dangers.”  Rosie feels the unwelcome prick of angry tears behind her eyes, and fires back. “And how fortunate for you , to grow up around people just like you, without worrying what dangers you’re putting your family in every time you try to learn!”  Cullen shoots Rosie a glare that clearly means, “Shut up , idiot!” But it’s too late. Damage done. Theresa’s gone completely still, in the way a pond will freeze over in the winter. Devoid of all external signs of life, but in constant motion just below the surface. Everything about her freezes… except her eyes, which simmer with an undercurrent of anger that makes Rosie want to swallow her tongue.  Only then does she realise what she’s just said, and to who. But she holds her gaze, too stubborn to back down now. 

[warpedlegacywrites]

Chapter 22: What Festers in the Shadows

Their wounds have festered in the darkness for too long. Only exposing them to the light will cleanse them, and allow them to heal.

“Tess…” A sob tears from his throat.  The wind lashes at his back, blowing his hair across his face. Behind him, the waves crash over the shore, displacing a flock of cormorants. Cal watches their flight with great interest, but dutifully remains at his master’s side.  “Maybe we’re both broken,” Theresa finally utters, still not meeting Cullen’s eye. “I… don’t know how to fix this.”  Her words sink in like a blade, so painful he can hardly breathe. He has no defence against it. No shield against such a raw and vulnerable confession. But the pain brings with it a kind of clarity, as all the self-deception falls away.  “Maybe…” He licks his lips, tasting salt from tears and sea spray. “Maybe it’s not yours to fix. At least, not yours alone.”  As he speaks, a heavy desolation settles over his shoulders, as the finality of it finally sinks in. It was a beautiful dream. It’s lasted far longer than he could ever have hoped. Far past anything he could ever deserve. Now, it’s shattered, and he’s standing amidst the shards, unable to step away without being cut. But it’s the only hope he has of maybe, one day, reassembling it.  Perhaps that hope is foolish. But when it comes to her, he’ll gladly play the fool. 

DAFF tag list: @rakshadow, @rosella-writes, @effelants, @bluewren, @breninarthur, @ar-lath-ma-cully, @dreadfutures, @ir0n-angel, @inquisimer, @crackinglamb, @theluckywizard, @nirikeehan, @oxygenforthewicked, @exalted-dawn-drabbles, @melisusthewee, @blarrghe, @agentkatie, @delicatefade, @leggywillow, @about2dance, @plisuu

[warpedlegacywrites]

Chapter 20: Treading Water

They're both drowning, pulling each other down.

“Theresa?” His voice – his whole body – trembles as he stares at her and repeats, “We’ll be alright, won’t we?”  “I hope so.”  He sucks in a sharp breath, looking at her as if seeing her for the first time. She doesn’t blame him – she hardly recognises herself anymore.  “We will,” he says, once again more to himself than to her. Calling on that unwavering faith of his she has always admired and never understood. “We’ve been through the crucible before. The Maker would not have set us on this path if we couldn’t find our way out.” She flashes her teeth in a feral, humourless laugh. “The same Maker that templar probably prayed to? Just stop, Cullen. Stop trying to mythologise it. There’s no grand purpose in this. No rhyme or reason. My pain is not simply a means to an end. It happened . To me . It's not divine. In fact, it's perfectly banal. His hatred… your faith… the fanatics who idolise me… it all comes from the same place.” “You can’t believe that.”  “Of course I do!”  “No. You would never have me if you really thought this way. You wouldn’t have married me if you truly thought I…” He stares down at his hands, but what he sees in them, Theresa cannot say. “...Would you?”  “I’ve told you before, Cullen, that I can’t be your absolution.” 

DAFF tag list: @rakshadow, @rosella-writes, @effelants, @bluewren, @breninarthur, @ar-lath-ma-cully, @dreadfutures, @ir0n-angel, @inquisimer, @crackinglamb, @theluckywizard, @nirikeehan, @oxygenforthewicked, @exalted-dawn-drabbles, @melisusthewee, @blarrghe, @agentkatie, @delicatefade, @leggywillow, @about2dance, @plisuu

[warpedlegacywrites]

Chapter 19: Crescendo

Cullen struggles to cope as it feels like everything is unraveling around him.

Cullen isn’t sure which is worse, the waking or the dreaming. Both bring pain and sorrow in different forms. His dreams are devoted to wounds of the past, while the waking world is filled with the emptiness of the present. And the future… He can no longer imagine a future.  He is no stranger to grief. But in all those losses, the pain was in the absence. In the missing pieces. The silence that replaces their habitual humming, the empty spaces where they used to sit. Eyes that still seek them out when he enters a room.  Perhaps that’s why it took him so long to fully process his own parents’ deaths. That was a loss he’d already mourned years ago. He remembers Tess saying something similar when learning that her own father and brother were killed at the Conclave.  But how do you mourn the loss of what you never had? 

DAFF Tag List: @rakshadow, @rosella-writes, @effelants, @bluewren, @breninarthur, @ar-lath-ma-cully, @dreadfutures, @ir0n-angel, @inquisimer, @crackinglamb, @theluckywizard, @nirikeehan, @oxygenforthewicked, @exalted-dawn-drabbles, @melisusthewee, @blarrghe, @agentkatie, @delicatefade, @leggywillow, @about2dance, @plisuu

[warpedlegacywrites]

Chapter 12: The Wolf's Jaw Pendant

While Theresa and Cullen are out of town on secret Inquisition business, Rosalie has a most unexpected encounter.

[Rosalie] follows [Feynriel's] gaze to a nondescript elven woman, stout but tall – taller than most elves Rosie has seen. She bears no Dalish markings, but something undefinable in her demeanour tells Rosie that she’s no ordinary city elf, either.  Feynriel greets her in Elvish, sounding cautious. The woman responds in kind. Her tone is polite and calm, but whatever she’s said, he clearly doesn’t like it. His hand tightens around his staff, and the wisp at its apex begins to vibrate with the rising energy he’s gathering.  “State your business,” he orders in Common, sharp and brittle, more fearful than Rosie’s ever seen him.  Frantically, she tries to remember how to summon a barrier. It’s been so long since she’s practised anything but nature spells.  “There’s no need for that,” the stranger answers, also in Common, attention shifting to Rosalie with a smile that’s chillingly uncanny, as though the muscles aren’t quite sure how it’s done. “You’re frightening the poor girl.”  Feynriel doesn’t take his eyes off the stranger. “Don’t trust it, Roe.”  “Why not?” Rosie’s heart hammers in her throat, all attempts at a barrier forgotten in her mounting fear. Wait, “it”?  “That’s no elf,” he says. “It’s a spirit.” 

DAFF tag list: @rakshadow, @rosella-writes, @effelants, @bluewren, @breninarthur, @ar-lath-ma-cully, @dreadfutures, @ir0n-angel, @inquisimer, @crackinglamb, @theluckywizard, @nirikeehan, @oxygenforthewicked, @exalted-dawn-drabbles, @melisusthewee, @blarrghe, @agentkatie, @delicatefade, @leggywillow, @about2dance

[warpedlegacywrites]

Chapter 10: An Unexpected Guest

Someone unexpected pays an unannounced visit to the Kirkwall estate.

A bright moon presides over the docks and dances over the water as a solitary figure, hood pulled low over his brow, disembarks from one of the newly arrived galleys. He breathes deeply of the air, the familiar aroma of brine and blood filling his nostrils, welcoming him back to the City of Chains. It is a fitting greeting.  The streets of Kirkwall are just as he remembers – and yet not. An indefinable change, like a mirage that dances out of sight when he turns his head. Perhaps he’s been away too long. Memory is a fluid, elusive thing – he knows that better than most. Yet it is memory that guides him from the docks down into the basin, where people know better than to ask questions. He buys a kebab and swiftly devours it, ravenous from his long journey. South for honour, then north again for his own sake – twice over the Waking Sea inside of a fortnight.  Part of him wants to rest in Darktown. Weariness is settling into his bones, and old aches are growing insistent. He isn’t as young as he once was, and has never been gentle on his body. Time is dragging him down. But he can’t rest yet.  He takes the tunnel to avoid the moonlit streets and begins his ascent in shadow and silence, feeling his way along walls of pitch black, following the glowing trail of lichen and wrinkling his nose at the foul chokedamp. It’s unlikely his presence will cause much of a stir nowadays, but he prefers no more surprises. And he’d rather avoid word of his arrival making its way to the Viscount’s Keep for as long as possible.  It’s a long way up to Hightown, even with this shortcut. The stone is hard on his bare feet, and dangerously slick in places. He’ll be glad for smooth, dry marble again. When he finally emerges into the familiar cellar some time later, he’s disturbed to see the layers of dust left behind have been thoroughly cleaned. Someone has been here. 

DAFF Tag List: @rakshadow, @rosella-writes, @effelants, @bluewren, @breninarthur, @ar-lath-ma-cully, @dreadfutures, @ir0n-angel, @inquisimer, @crackinglamb, @theluckywizard, @nirikeehan, @oxygenforthewicked, @exalted-dawn-drabbles, @melisusthewee, @blarrghe, @agentkatie, @delicatefade, @leggywillow, @about2dance

[warpedlegacywrites]

Chapter 17: Bells in Kirkwall

The hours of the day are marked by the ringing of the chantry bells. But that is not all they signify. (Definitely pay attention to CWs for this chapter...)

Her thoughts of the future lately have been optimistic. Hopeful. The whisper of doubt is still there, of course. The quiet little voice in the back of her mind that never stops asking, What if? What if she makes the same mistakes as her mother? What if she can’t love the child as she should? What if the child doesn’t love her?  What if she does everything right… but then Solas succeeds, and it’s all for naught?  But it’s quieter now, easier to ignore. She watches the children play, listens to Cullen’s soothing voice, and it grows quieter still. 

DAFF tag list: @rakshadow, @rosella-writes, @effelants, @bluewren, @breninarthur, @ar-lath-ma-cully, @dreadfutures, @ir0n-angel, @inquisimer, @crackinglamb, @theluckywizard, @nirikeehan, @oxygenforthewicked, @exalted-dawn-drabbles, @melisusthewee, @blarrghe, @agentkatie, @delicatefade, @leggywillow, @about2dance