#yadaf

[fenharel-apologist94]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @greypetrel tysm!!!! <3 I almost forgot but I'm still just in time!

I'm not sure who to tag so if you're seeing this, it's YOUR cosmic sign to do WIP Wednesday!

Yet Another Dragon Age Fanfic

Chapter 1: Funeral

kinda wanna laugh at the way I cried

I've been putting on a smile, though somebody died

Oh, I don't know how to act to pretend it's fine

I'm so happy at this funeral, thi—this funeral

(Funeral by Ella Red)

Of course they had one.

And, of course, it was a Saturday in September.

It had been a year after Sarah returned to her Earthen body. She didn’t know why she had kept Sethari’s memories—and it’s not like she could walk around asking people, Hey, do you have these memories of yourself from an alternate universe that just so happens to be a character you created in the hit game known as Dragon Age: Inquisition? No? Just me? Haha, don’t worry about it then! Purely a hypothetical question, please don’t put me in a mental institute!

So Sarah had settled for the next best thing: done her best to weather the compounding grief of losing her brother twice as she stood before his empty, closed casket. She was vaguely aware of her family members mingling around and behind her. It was difficult to see them around the tears she couldn’t stop from falling. All she could see was his picture, wreathed in white lilies. His green eyes were bright as he smiled for the photo.

“Aloy?”

She kept seeing the twin branches of his vallaslin beneath those eyes.

When she found it too much to bear, Sarah silently turned heel and walked towards the nearest door. It didn’t matter where it took her, she just needed out.

Sarah stiffened, hand outstretched towards the door. The voice had sounded close and distorted. And…strangely like Sethari's, if she remembered correctly.

Only to find nothing. Instead, a ring of blue light erupted from the center of a smooth, steely surface, which promptly unlocked and opened with a gentle whir.

Great, now I’m going insane with grief, Sarah thought bitterly to herself. Seeing Kieran's Dragon Age-alternate self was one thing—hearing hers was quite another. Shrugging off the odd, cold sensation that shivered down her spine, she reached back out for the door handle.

A holo-lock, a voice answered Sarah’s unspoken question, distinctly different from Sethari’s. It was huskier, lower than hers.

Feeling unsteadier by the second, Sarah pulled the black cardigan she wore over her dress and walked through the door. Hallucination or not, it was still better than staying one more second by that damn, empty casket and that haunting photo.

Her…head. Her head was starting to hurt.

Groaning, she leaned into the wall of the hallway for a second to catch her breath. It was difficult to make out her surroundings. Her vision kept flickering between the demure, carpeted hallway of the funeral home and…and…

Sarah swallowed thickly. Closing her eyes, she began to chant softly to herself.

“I’m at the funeral home. I’m stepping out for air. I’m at the funeral home.” Another deep breath. “And I’m not seeing the entryway to the base of Horizon: Forbidden West.”

[fenharel-apologist94]

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

*slides the prologue towards you* Can I interest you in some niche fanfic?

[fenharel-apologist94]

blorbo roll call

As I get ever closer to finishing my Sethari Lavellan playthrough of DA:V (and therefore ever closer to actually finishing the last chapter of NADAF), I thought I would take a moment to actually introduce my OCs:

Kieran Lavellan (he/him) - The Inquisitor Who Broke Time

Sethari Lavellan (she/her) - Former Ambassador of Clan Lavellan turned Gray Warden, Best Sister to the Inquisitor

Thorn Alwir (she/they) - Local Fade Nerd Just Trying Their Best

[fenharel-apologist94]

ITS YOUR TURN TO WRITE WITH PLAYING CARDS

from that prompt list

This was so funnnn thank yooou <3 Prompt list

Kieran was a man of many talents. 

He had slayed demons, sealed Rifts. He had saved all of Thedas from a Blight-addled magister bent on tearing the world apart. Hell, he had even survived reality falling apart around him. 

And yet he could not survive a game of Wicked Grace. 

Kieran stared hard at his hand, trying to keep the bewilderment from entering his expression while his brain scrambled to make sense of his cards. They had told him the rules at the start of the game, but nearly ten rounds in, Kieran still couldn’t tell if he had a good hand or not.

Across from him, Josephine and Varric traded smiles and banter as one would dance around a ballroom full of knives. Teeth flashed, coins glittered, and they maneuvered around each other with a grace forged by experience. Kieran was a fish out of water, by comparison. 

At least he wasn’t the only one struggling. Kieran cast a quick glance over the top of his cards at Cullen. As per the rules established by Varric, those who lost all of their coins had to bet their clothes – and Cullen was down to his undershirt and trousers. Kieran had fared a bit better, limping along with a few coins left. 

A voice, low and bemused, breathed in his ear.

“I would fold, if I were you.” 

Heat rushed to Kieran’s face and he snapped his cards close to his chest. His gaze shot towards where Solas was leaning towards him – too close, Kieran realized with a flush. He forced a reproachful scoff over the thundering beat of his heart. 

“And I would avoid cheating, if I were you,” Kieran retorted. Solas’ eyes glinted with mirth as he straightened. Kieran couldn’t help but eye his substantially larger pile of coins.

Solas grinned. “Observation is not cheating.”

“Is that what you call ‘looking at someone else’s cards’?” Kieran carefully angled his hand to review it again, but it was in vain. Each card was different and he still didn’t know what they meant. He folded them out of sight. 

“I do not need to see your cards to know that you lack the confidence necessary to bluff your way out of a bad hand.” Solas said to him, before pushing several coins towards the middle of the table and announcing, “I raise.” 

Kieran silently counted up Solas’ addition and cursed. It exceeded what he had left. As the others grumbled and threw in their lots or folded, his mind raced through his options. 

He could fold. He should fold. His hand was essentially indecipherable to him and it didn’t seem likely he would win. But Solas’ jibe had gotten under his skin more than he would care to admit, so he shoved the remainder of his coins into the pool. 

“Hold on, there, Greenie!” Varric protested. “Rules are rules, and that’s not –”

“That’s not enough, I know. I’m also wagering my shirt,” Kieran swiftly cut in. 

“Oh, Inquisitor…are you sure you want to do that?” Josephine’s smile was kinder than the ones she had been giving Varric. 

“Quite sure.” Kieran glanced sideways and locked eyes with Solas. The mage’s grin grew wider, wolfish. 

“I raise again,” Solas said, moving more coins into the pool. Varric swore from between his teeth and threw his cards onto the table, folding. Cullen followed suit. Josephine wavered, glancing between Kieran and Solas. 

He’s bluffing. Kieran narrowed his eyes and said, “I wager my socks.” 

Solas maintained their locked gaze and tossed a couple more coins. A giggle escaped Josephine, and she delicately placed her cards facedown on the table. 

“I’ll admit, I am most eager to see how this plays out,” she snickered. 

“I’m sure Chuckles is thinking the same thing,” pointed out Varric, earning another laugh from Josephine. 

Solas’ gray eyes were electric. Fold, Keiran could all but hear him dare. A thrill bubbled through Kieran, more intoxicating than any ale. 

“I’ll add in my trousers and call.” 

Varric and Josephine erupted into a cascade of anticipatory cheers, and Cullen’s permanent scowl deepened. Solas let the tension linger for a moment before laying his hand for the table to see. It must have been a decent hand, Kieran supposed, based on Varric’s feigned concern and Josephine’s genuine surprise. 

Kieran sucked in a breath to steady himself and sent a quick prayer to Mythal for her blessing. If he lost, he would be down to his underclothes. In front of Cullen. And in front of Solas.

He opened his hand. 

Everyone at the table stilled, staring at his cards. A bead of sweat formed at the base of his neck.

Legend had it Mythal was sometimes fickle… had his prayers gone unanswered? 

Then, Varric leaned forward and shuffled his hand into a different arrangement. Solas let out a sharp, fenedhis that startled Kieran. 

“A royal flush! You had us going there for a second, Greenie,” Varric crowed. 

“Indeed,” muttered Solas. 

“Thank Mythal,” Kieran gasped, quickly reaching for the pile of gold. He couldn’t help shooting Solas a triumphant smirk. “How’s that for confidence?”

A snort escaped Solas. His wolfish smile was gone, replaced by an expression of careful consideration. The twin branches of Kieran’s Vallaslin burned under his gaze. 

“Better confidence than Mythal’s favor,” he muttered, too softly for anyone but Kieran to hear him. 

[midnight-coffee94]

ough my wires... they're crossing

Kotallo as a gray warden my hands are rubbing together in goblinic glee. what's next. robots in Antiva....?? robots in Antiva...

[fenharel-apologist94]

wip whenever i promise i might actually have something this time

[fenharel-apologist94]

sorry the doctor said I have to imagine post-NADAF amnesiac Kieran in Rook's place absolutely tearing Solas to shreds every conversation they have in the Fade its for my health he said