𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝖺 𝗁𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖺.

HIS GAZE FINDS HER THEN, and a sad sort of smile captures his lips. Few understood the pain of losing a twin; the empty void left within one's chest. To share a womb with another is...particularly binding. To lose them is another type of pain entirely.

talking about them helps.

Carver wonders briefly how many alive now actually remembered her; knew her name or the way the room would light up with her laugh. His chest aches at the thought of her memory dying with him one day. "Her name was Bethany. She was a mage, a bit more suited to books than fighting, but she would knock anyone on their arse if needed." he laughs lowly, head shaking while his full weight rests against the stone wall. "She gave me a black eye once after I nailed her pigtails to the headboard."

"Your twin, what was their name?"

it had been nearly ten years since lanaya lost her sister and even more since she lost her elder sister, but it would always feel like it happened yesterday. the grief and the sorrow that came with it never quite went away. it was something she dealt with and had accepted -- there was no moving on and no healing, not truly. only the memories she had, and yet ... memories faded. sometimes she wondered if she made up what they looked like in her head, did she truly remember them how they were? or had she created another version of them?

" sounds like it was deserved, " lanaya laughs.

Arousal slams into him like a tidal wave. He isn't sure what causes it first: the sharp pressure on his ear, the way his gaze sticks and follows the sweat beading between her breasts, or the absolute filth that the Inquisitor tells him.

'I bet you've thought about it, too. Got off on it when you were alone, maybe? I know I have.'

Maker's breath. He was a dead man.

"I--" Cassian started, then stuttered, a laugh (albeit surprised) dropping from his lips. The entire interaction suddenly spurred him to use his size as an advantage; his fingers pressed so hard into Lanaya's thighs that they would surely bruise into a pretty plum-color shortly. He swung their weights and rolled them over to pin Lanaya instead. Every sigh, every cant of his hips was made in reverence of the woman beneath him, even while he reached upwards and grasped the headboard with one hand.

"Yes," he finally admitted. His crystalline blue eyes darkened into something nearly feral. This was no civilized circle mage, this was a man driven to desperation. "I want that. I need it. I need you, Lan. I think about you -- all the time." Cassian stopped and brought his mouth to the softness of her stomach. His tongue licked a long stripe up the length of her body where the sweat had trailed before. Then, he moved to the swell of each breast, taking each nipple into his mouth to suck and worry his teeth upon until they were sensitive and pert.

lanaya couldn’t prevent the smirk on her lips or the excitement in her eyes when he grabbed her and put her on her back. there was something so thrilling about being handled. she wasn’t made a glass nor was she a porcelain doll, she wasn’t going to break if you gave her bruises or you were rough with her.

“ show me, “ lanaya commanded in a sharper tone. “ show me what you fantasize about. “ she doesn’t ask, she tells him to do it outright. she licks her lips and melts as he kisses down her body. she combs her fingers through his unkept hair, pulling harshly and gasping when he dragged his teeth along her nipples. it was unexpected and pleasant in so many ways. goosebumps arose on her hot skin where he touched her. “ when it was late and you thought about me … fucked into your hand to the idea … show me what that fantasy looked like … “ she taunts him to spur him forward, just like every single day when he taunted her to get on her nerves.

Here and here

Other currently active links and gofundme pages

Urgent Aid for LA families of 14 detained: gofundme

Help my family reunite - immigration justice: gofundme

It was easier to deal with having lost years of his life if he was too preoccupied with the current set of problems. He didn't need to worry about the demons, or the age that shaped his body, or the lurking fear that any day now he would begin to hear the Calling.

"In your letter it seemed you had a lot to tell me, anyways. Something about risen Gods and a new, violent Blight? That last part wasn't difficult to discern. I've had the willies ever since I woke up," Cassian joked half-heartedly. "Darkspawn were crawling all over themselves on the Imperial Highway, too."

Perhaps he kept talking because he could not stand the silence that would inhabit the space instead. Perhaps he kept speaking because he couldn't bear the thought of letting Lanaya out of his sight now that he had her. This close, he could count her freckles. This close, he could spot the miniscule white pieces of hair that had sprouted near her scalp. This close, he could not forget for a single moment that he was still in love with her after all of these years.

" yes … ghilan’nain and elgar’nan, ancient elven gods, or mages as they used to be. solas, who was actually fen’harel — the dread wolf. he sealed them away in a prison when he put up the veil and in his ritual to take the veil down … it was disrupted and they got out and he’s now trapped inside. since then, there’s been a town in the north that’s become infected with the blight — in a blood sacrifice by ghilan’nain, i’m told. the people who remain there lost their minds in the process ... it’s ironic — she’s the mother of the halla, our most cherished and beloved creatures. i chose my vallaslin in their honor. " she puts an emphasis on the creature themselves instead of the so-called god.

standing with her hands behind her might have been her go-to when speaking as the inquisitor, but it also prevented her from appearing nervous or worried, which is exactly how she felt when face-to-face with cassian. the years had not been kind to him, which was no surprise. yet, his eyes were the same and his voice was the same. he was still cassian under the long hair and overgrown beard. " the blight is different, the darkspawn are different. the gods control the darkspawn and the blight and the venatori are working for the gods. ghilan’nain’s archdemon was killed by a group up north when —, “ she finally looks at cassian, unsure if she should continue. despite her best efforts, her face twists. she's never been good at hiding her expressions.

There's no point in hiding. Maker, he doesn't want to. Not after all of these years. It didn't matter what had happened in his absence, she was still Lanaya, and that was enough.

He turns slowly, somewhat nervous to let her see how the years had taken a toll on him. His once youthful face now looked more severe and hard-edged, a full beard and long, shaggy hair haphazardly pulled back into a low ponytail. She—she had only grown more regal in the time they've been apart.

her features soften when she finally sees his face. she was sure he looked more like himself under the unkept beard. above all, she noted that he looked tired.

" you know, " she pauses. " i do recall telling you to stay on bedrest until you get better. if you did, you could have taken a bath, i'm sure. " her tone is teasing, but stern, there's even a hint of worry. her hands rest at the small of her back, as they always did. it was a force of habit, she never knew what to do with her hands and letting them fall to her sides felt awkward. " besides, i like nugs. they have an earthy smell to them. "

"I can't let Hawke do that, and you know this," Cassian argues, but it has no real venom behind it. He has resigned to his fate: there is no fight in him to entertain contesting it. Steadily, he had been sapping his own life force to heal their party at a constant rate, lest they all fall in the Fade.

Lanaya's voice makes his heart become stuck in his throat. His breath hitches, and for a moment, he looks regretful.

"I'm sorry," Cassian repeats fruitlessly. Then, he reaches across and takes her hand--the one shining with the anchor, the one undoubtedly causing her pain. In one last gesture, he channels the remainder of his mana into soothing the pain until they returned.

sadness is immediately replaced with anger. " no i will not! because you’ll be here, trapped, alone. i’ll never see you again. we were —, " she’s finding it hard to speak but she pulls through. " — supposed to do more. " she wanted to yell at him, accuse him of making her fall in love with him only for him to pull this ridiculous stunt. she wanted to live. above all; she wanted to do it with him. she wanted to see the end of corypheus and figure out a life together with him at her side.

it wasn’t that she would feel comfortable letting either cassian or hawke stay behind — they both had entire lives and friends outside of this nightmare. none of this was fair. she had already paid such a high price since the anchor became imbedded in her skin. the world continued to take from her. why her? and why him?

she aggressively pulls her hand away from him. " fine, stay here. " there's a look of defeat in her golden eyes -- and the inquisitor would never admit to defeat unless absolutely necessarily.

she flips between anger and sadness, her mind couldn't make up which one to settle on. she's angry at him for forcing it on her, angry that he's the one making the decision, angry that he's being the sacrificial hero all grey wardens were. she was also deeply sad for all the reasons she was angry.