here lies the abyss.

sarah j. mass. accepting. @fractalmind

        “------I know.”

       It’s said so softly, almost distantly. Eyes look anywhere but the other, focused far ahead of where they sit. In the distance, he thinks he can see dark, moving figures beneath the glow of the moons. Perhaps it’s just his eyes playing tricks on him. Perhaps he’s just being paranoid. Gaze flickers down to his lap, his hands curling, the pointed tips of his gauntlets sharp through the material of his gloves; clenched any tighter, and they might pierce through and break the skin.

       Bigger than revenge. It was never about just revenge, no matter what line that spirit may have crossed. It was about revolution. It was about freedom. Hope.

       The anger has... mostly subsided now, even if the hurt still lingers, because he understands. And if he knew, if he knew--- well, who is to say he wouldn’t have helped willingly? Maybe Anders knew that, maybe he was trying to keep him as safe as he could. Away from whatever damage caused by his actions.

       ( Even though he himself had caused more damage to the city than he'll ever forgive himself for; a corrupt city that desperately needed change, change he thought he could bring, but even he couldn’t save it. )

        The touch, with all its gentleness, feather-light and kind, warm, reassuring, still makes him tense for but a moment. Not because it’s unwelcome, but because touch is something so scarce nowadays that he’s forgotten what that close contact means when it isn’t with the intention to hurt. But she’s his sister, his little sister, so kind and thoughtful, strong and witty, and she’s grown so much from the soft-faced apostate she was when they first arrived in Kirkwall. She would never hurt him.

       Garrett takes a deep breath, tension seeping from his shoulders. His parents, returned to the Maker’s embrace, proud of him; Bethany, proud of him. Maybe Carver is, too, even if he’d never admit it. And he’s proud, too. It shows in the shine of his eyes when he looks at what’s left of his family. They’ve all gone through so much, haven’t they?

       “Beth–” He manages a hoarse laugh, then turns to face her fully. Both his hands rest on her upper arms, the touch gentle but protective. Ah, she’s still so much smaller than him, barely reaching his shoulder. He fears if he’s too rough he may break her in two ( it’s always been like that, and she always insists he has nothing to worry about; the Hawke family were never fragile, regardless of size ). “You don’t know how proud I am of you.”

       There is an aching tenderness in his voice, love spilling forth from his chest. Garrett moves one hand to stroke her hair, tucking strands behind her ear. Then he draws her in, tucks her against the broad plane of his chest, hunching over enough that he can rest his chin on her shoulder. When they were younger, he’d often playfully pick her off of the ground in his embraces, like she weighed nothing. He considers that now, but decides to forgo it for the time being.

       “You’re stronger than you think, and I’m so proud. Don’t forget that. But I’ll–” He can’t help but laugh. “Your big brother’s always going to be here to protect you if you need it.”

hawke:

               HE SCOFFS, a weak sort of scoff, like one does after losing a game of chess. hawke reminds him of a bad tattoo, the way he’s always under your skin, no matter how much you wish he wasn’t. cullen runs a gloved hand through his hair, attempting to fix what damage is done from the cold breeze.

                   "          I WAS glad to be rid of the situation at kirkwall, though i regret being unable to assist rebuilding the destruction meredith caused. but cassandra called me to what is a higher purpose. one we both seem to be obliged to align ourselves with. despite our.. differences.“

                 WAS THERE a bite to that statement? he hopes there was.

                    "          GLAD YOU could take time off from traipsing around maker knows where to help. there was quite a fuss concerning your whereabouts before the conclave.”

       There is no need to tell Cullen about his reservations about the Inquisition, that he’s only here because of Varric and a sense of obligation, as the very being they’re trying to take down is the one he failed to kill once before. It would only make the tension worse, and it’s already drawn so tight, ready to snap. It wouldn’t look good for one of the Inquisitor’s advisers and the former Champion to get into a scuffle.

      “Traipsing around is certainly one way to put it,” he says, followed by a low hum. No one knows what he was doing, no one but his old companions. Traveling the southern countryside, assisting fleeing mages, meeting with Wardens once the sky tore open. Many wanted him dead, so he kept his head low at all times. And those that didn’t want him dead, well... “I know the Seeker was looking for me. It’s good that she’s found someone more suited to lead this little army.”

      No ounce of condescension in his voice, because he means it. A good army needs a good leader, and it seems they’ve found one. He doesn’t think he’s cut out for that, no matter what others say. Keeping his small group from throttling each other before they finally got along was hard enough.

｡ﾟﾟ          GAZE          OF          THE          FLEETING          SUN          CARESSES          HER       ,          THIS          perfumed          paradise       ,          tinting          frame          with          ｇｏｌｄｅｎｒｏｄ          haze  .          siren          of          barkhans                    /                    monarch          of          𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞                    /                    darling          of          𝕔𝕚𝕥𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕖𝕤  .          she          bathes          in          spilled          amber         rays       ,            wielding          a          portrait          to          𝓖𝓝𝓐𝓦          dreams  .       ❝          hyrule          is          a          well          suited          location          for          a          𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚕𝚢          𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚕  .          you          are          never          𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙚          here       ;          even          if          it          seems          otherwise  .         ❞          lambent     -     lit          pools          like          molten          𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘴       ,          wrought     -     gold       ,          𝒽𝒶𝓊𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹          *          the          pearly         symphony          of         her         tongue  .      ❝          ghouls                    &                    monsters        𝚊𝚛𝚎          𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜          𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐          in         the          dark       ,           awaiting          their          opportunity  .          people          will         come                    &                     go          —–           —-          –       ❞

                       ❝          —–           —-          –          ｂｕｔ          ｎｅｖｅｒ          ｔｈｅｍ  .         ❞

@abysslain​         𝐛𝐨𝐰𝐬          𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧         ♡     .    .     .     !

        The sky is a clear blue and the sands shift golden, sparkling around them. Sun merciless, but the heat is nothing to him --- not even with his heaviest armor. The perks of dragonhood, he supposes, to be able to bear the heat of the desert and the heat of the volcano. Hyrule, Hyrule, Hyrule; a land full of myth and legend, of heroes and princesses and a cycle of light and dark. He’s been here a long time, seen many things, but he’s scarcely seen the girl with fiery hair and sharp eyes piercing beneath her veil. She’s beautiful, it’s no surprise, but her beauty does not change the fact she carries the scent of death with her.

        Dragons only reveal themselves to good people, or so they say. Not entirely true, they simply reveal themselves to... anyone they please. And he isn’t about to reveal his true identity just yet. People are unpredictable. He’d like to keep his scales.