#WARDENCHANTER— an ind & private rp blog for Former Grey Warden and Grand Enchanter Fiona of Bioware's Dragon Age, multi-ship/verse & crossover friendly. Canon divergent lore based in the novels and altered for Inquisition. beloved by Void ( 25, they/them, pst ). Adventuring since 2013!
Carrd || Memes ||
A study in: getting up, because no one else will save you. the sole survivor, last to tell the tale. the wounded healer. the downer girl. complete loss of self and clawing one's way back into something salvageable. the burden of secrets. the harrowing act of leadership. the constant mourning of loving something, knowing it cannot last.
Blog Roll: @magusanima (hof) | @spiritheals (Anders) | @bardicchord (multi) << I follow back from here!
Rules below the cut.
rule 001. zero drama. Do not bring drama to my door. I'm anti callout/content policing. Block and move on pookies. I'm too old for all that.
rule 002. No Block evading. I'll block harder. don't test me
rule 003. ic does not equal ooc. period. Do not confuse my character's feelings for my own. This can be both negative and positive feelings. I do not hate you, nor am I catching feelings. This is roleplay, these are characters.
rule 004. I am open to almost any ship/dynamic known to man. That being said, If I have expressed that I am not comfortable with a dynamic or cannot see a ship happening and it is persisted, I will drop the interaction completely.
rule 005. If you do not enjoy my characterization or disagree with my takes, simply unfollow, block, do what makes you comfortable. I don't answer anon hate and simply delete it. I don't feed trolls, don't waste time sending hate or vagueing bc it gets you nowhere with me.
rule 006. I work a full time, Managerial position at my job and have other activities that I do outside of rp, so if i tend to be slower to respond to our interactions/messages, please don't take it to heart! If i don't respond or take awhile it is usually because I am burnt out, and I want to be at 100% for my responses! Thank you for your time and patience, and I look forward to rping with you!
@b1uewraith has written: you're laughing?! do you really think this is funny? / from alistair !
He sounds like a boy when he exclaims it, and perhaps it is because that is what he is. Even in adulthood, a king's emotions are a fickle thing, and his perhaps...seemed to be worse. If she knew herself (and she did) and had heard the bann's talks of the young lord during his days in Redcliffe correctly, then his temper would be...poorly managed at best, especially with someone on complicated terms as she had been.
It had been odd, having him come directly to Skyhold after the falling out of Redcliffe. She had not prepared to see him again, not after the abrupt banishing of the mages out of sanctuary. But it had grown easier, sharing a space with him. Even if she could not say what had troubled her for nearly three decades, she could stomach having the king wandering the halls; pledging himself to the Inquisition, even if he seemed to have a rather personal motive in the entire thing.
Perhaps most had not noticed, and for those who had, many would take their word as no more than hearsay; a cheap rumor. The Inquisitor was an intelligent, diplomatic man, and so most of his personal life was hidden behind closed doors. But she knew what it had meant to hide, to slip through the cracks, to go unseen.
And she knew what it looked like when a king nearly stepped on the coattails of one who concerned themself of subtlety.
Of course, if Alistair had been preoccupied with the Inquisitor, that had meant less of his time would be spent aimlessly wandering, perhaps even some days drilling a hole into the Enchanter's back; trying to form some sort of apology for his outburst. He hadn't needed one, it had been entirely her fault that Alexius had wormed his way into Redcliffe. The mages' safety was her burden to carry, but he clearly did not see it that way...how very like someone she had known...
His temper is not thrown at her this time because of their previous tensions, but because he had been caught. And her laughter had hardly been more than a mirthless exhale, a small crinkle of the nose; of the irony of it all. She had thought the Maker had punished her enough for seeing Alistair on the throne, but now here he was, sneaking off with an elven mage when all the world believed him to cherish his queen forever and always. Like it had been his choice.
And he loved him. It was clear that he did, and that they'd had a history. It was something forgotten, something that had pained the both of them, especially now that they had been forced to hide it. It would not be something revealed, not this day. They did not need to suffer more for it.
"You will excuse my reaction, your majesty. It is only baffling that I find two respected figures engaging in activities similar to apprentice mages in the Circle." She remarks, having clearly been thrown off by finding the two engaging in...heated affections in the rotunda's stairwell. Honestly, it could have been anyone...
"...But not a word of it will be spoken. I have kept worse secrets for Maric, after all. If your court knew half the things he confided in me, I am sure Ferelden's historians would lose their heads."
@b1uewraith has written: you were going to leave without saying goodbye? / anotha one from maric
Tense shoulders fall as the initial shock of footsteps following her down the castle corridor are placed by the pained plea of Ferelden's king. He was not going to make this easy, he had not in the several months they had traveled together, why should he now...at the end of it all? She cannot help but allow a sigh to pass her lips, not entirely heated as they had been in the past, simply exhausted; without another option. What was she to do?
"And what would that have looked like to you?" She turns on her heel, seemingly unbothered to face the other fully in her exasperation. "Was it not my refusal to take you back to the Wardens? Or my warnings to distance yourself as we grew closer to the city, which you completely ignored? Perhaps it was your promise that you would spend one final evening with me before you returned to your duties and your son?" Her last words had been as hushed as she could make them, earthen eyes searching the other's face for some sort of answer. She knew there wouldn't be a plausible one. Maric thought with his heart, and that was his weakness. He truly couldn't believe that his freedom was over as soon as he had won it, and her and Duncan's departure would cement it.
She didn't like the idea of it, but what else could she do? She had sought comfort in him, she had told herself it would be nothing more.
It had been, for longer than she'd like to admit. And she would have been lying to herself if for a moment, their freedom from the Deep Roads had made her forget about everything else outside of it. It was what made this so difficult. That she was already terrible at juggling her emotions made her hate this whole thing, but having to look him in the eye when she knew he felt like he was being left in a cage...it felt hopeless.
"...I cannot say anything more, Maric. You know what it is that I feel, and you know that I have no other choice but to return."
@b1uewraith has written: are you happy? i mean, really happy? / smth smth post-reunion, fiona staying with behni and alistair and rosie...
Alistair did this thing often, she was learning; asking questions that could be assumed as simple, but were also quite broad. Part of her thinks that he expects a simple answer, and the other part believes that he wants an explanation. When discussing feelings, it could never be the former, not for as long as she'd lived. Positive feelings were few and far between, she did not make time for joy- for warmth- because there was so much left to be done.
But now...the Inquisitor had kept her promise to make Skyhold a sanctuary for the mages, what was left of the Circles were in talks to rebuild themselves into Colleges rather than prisons...the mages were still fighting, Divine Victoria had yet to give her word on their fate, but the stresses of the past few decades had been lifting slowly from her shoulders the further they traveled from the Inquisition's keep. It was...an unfamiliar feeling. She had never been removed from a state of alert for as long as she had been alive. There were small moments she could recall of course; the quiet after battle, a few month's leave of duty, even if it had meant some sleepless nights, but this...it felt so...disconcerting.
Was this how things were supposed to feel like?
"I have not given myself much time to consider." Is what initially comes out, and she gnaws at the inside of her cheek. It is too succinct, and he can take it too many ways. Her deep brown eyes flicker to the earth beneath her, and an ear swivels slightly as the sounds of steel clashing with steel can be heard in the training yard. It had been some time since she'd been to a Warden encampment. The Warden-Commander had done a fine job over the last decade of rebuilding their forces. Even after Adamant, there had been an ample amount who had stayed on.
It felt alive. Duncan would have been proud of his recruits.
"...that is not to say you have not done enough. I...find myself more at peace than I have been in my entire life...this is a new thing for me. And because it is new, it can be...terrifying. I think, what if the situation with the mages falters once more? What if another rift tears open the sky? What if my mind has been lying to me for decades now and I begin to hear my Calling? I have never been afforded rest, it is hard to accept now."
The mage forcefully exhales through her nose, head lifting now as another sound pulls her from her thoughts; the rambunctious voice of a young girl, causing trouble on the outskirts of Vigil's Keep. It had become familiar to her since her stay at Skyhold, and she had a feeling she would not hear the end of it anytime soon. Fiona had grown close to her would-be granddaughter even before the truth had come out, and if nothing else...that would be something to look forward to...the future.
"...I think that the idea of happiness has lingered at the very corners of my mind for so long that I have forgotten what I envisioned it to be. There are things I thought would be able to provide such a thing, but I had denied them for so long, and now they are gone." Her gaze meets his then, and there is a softness there, not entirely one of sadness...
"...but I have you, and I hope everyday that I have not waited too long for that. I know our meeting was one of tears and embraces, but I know that is not all you felt about learning the truth. Duncan would tell me of your temper in his letters, teased that had you not been his subordinate, you would have given him as much of a mouthful as I used to do." There is a pause, enough for the ghost of a laugh to pass her lips. "...you are kind, and a good man...but you were alone for too long, and so if what comforts me caused you to ache, then I would hear it before I grant myself any sort of happiness."
@b1uewraith has written: why is it so unbelievable that i'd want to help you? / from maric.... ill die
The question prickles at the mage’s neck like a stray bolt of lightning had cut across her nerves. She cannot help but flinch in irritation; the gruesome mirage of the Fade still lingering in the back of her mind. Some part of her swore she could still feel the icy-hot licks of Comte Dorian’s gruesome punishment, and she cannot help but wrap an arm around herself to rub at the scarring that had remained. Had it truly already been over a decade since he’d died…? It hadn’t felt like it.
And now here she was, fighting at the whim of more humans, for a taste of freedom; the most any mage or elf could think of…but it didn’t feel like freedom. Not down here in the Deep Roads, with no certain ways out. Not when the journey had already taken two of their companions. That Nicolas would choose the uncertainty of an eternity in the Fade with a love that could very well be a spirit over…this. Their mission was beginning to feel more like a suicide. One Genevieve had been too afraid to take on her own.
This was not what she had hoped for herself when she had left the tower. She was no longer punished by those above her but by the sickness inside her. And she could not tell what was worse.
She was spiraling, she knew that. She knew she’d been trying to walk off her wounds made fresh and still…still she’d allowed him to follow, allowed him to talk. And for what? Because he’d helped her? Been kind to her? Because he’d been different? What a painfully naive perspective.
Her pacing had stopped in its tracks, but only to turn on her heel so that she could face the man. The side-tunnel they’d found themselves in was dimly lit by the luminescent fungi growing out of the earth, and it was enough to notice him recoil slightly.
“You cannot truly be that dense. I know you saw my suffering in the Fade. Do not try to pretend you did not for the sake of my feelings.” She snapped, speaking first before truly considering his words. He had been kind to her without expectation. He did not plead for healing or aid like the others did, which was a bother in its own way. He was always thankful and his eyes lit up when she wordlessly tended to an injury. It was…irritating. But different, and confusing. She didn’t like that.
Fiona’s shoulders sank as the initial tension left her, though that sickening tightness in her chest still left her in discomfort. Why could he not simply leave things be? Why did he always have to press? Have to know everything?
“…your kind has never been good to mine. Not as I’ve seen…until now. You are frustratingly different and it vexes me. I do not know why you risk yourself so openly when you are of such great import to Ferelden.”
She catches herself in her heated ramblings, turning away from Maric once more to lose her gaze in the unnatural darkness of the caverns.
“…I can handle myself. I always have, and I do not intend to change that. If you are to help anyone, it is Genevieve. That is what you are here for.”
I do not know how much of Alistair’s backstory as it is written in DAO was meant to be a red herring (Knowing Dragon Age; none of it) and how much it was just plan retcon BUT they fumbled it so so incredibly hard.
Alistair has no idea he is half elven. He has no idea that his mother is a mage. He has been dreaming of family and belonging for his entire life and has placed a lot of love onto his mother— who he thought was a dead servant of his father, and that HAD to be part of the negative to neutral feelings he has towards his father and half brother.
Only for the truth to be that Fiona is a powerful mage who, even if she’d wanted too, was powerless to do anything other than give him up. As a mage she has no choice in the matter and even if she did claim him; he would be treated worse twice over for it due to her being a elven mage. She was a warden like he is, she knew Duncan and she can’t even tell him any of it.
Like. Alistair was treated terribly his entire childhood and Fiona not only has no idea but if she’d publicly tried to claim him it’s likely that he’d have been treated even worse. He would have never been in the running for the throne, even with everyone else dead (which he probably would have been more than fine with)
And what have we’ve seen about this absolutely tragic situation? Fucking nothin. Fiona can be in the same castle as her grandson and have no idea. Having the truth come out in DAI and having to deal with the political fallout would have been awesome is all I’m saying.
it feels as though you have fought every day of your life. sometimes, you cannot even tell how much of the blood on your hands is your own... and how much comes from those who've tried to hurt those you defend. you deserve the gentleness of a kiss to your bruised knuckles and broken skin, a reminder that you are not only made of violence.
