wanderlust

family headcanons

“Hadn’t had much time to think about it honestly. Seems like a lot of work but I wouldn’t mind it. It’s just another adventure, right?”

Kaaras laughed. He supposed she was right. Anything that used the muscles in a way one hadn’t had practice in should stretch, lest they wish to hurt themselves. Kaaras really didn’t have any desire to look a fool in front of her, and then end up injuring himself by something as simple as dancing. It would already be awkward enough with their height difference. 

“Now that would be telling…” he replied in a sense that obviously told her that, yes, he’d definitely cramped up in a fight before. It was just a part of the life, though. One couldn’t prepare when a camp was going to be attacked out of nowhere. Also, one didn’t care too much about the cramp when it was life and death. All the pain came tumbling down afterwards, when the adrenaline of fight or flight had finally vanished. 

Stretching his arms and fingers, Kaaras then wriggled his feet a little to get his muscles all relaxed and stretched, shaking his body loose afterwards. When they were ready, he stood up to her to close the distance, offering his hand in a bow of his head.

“We shall.” He cupped her hand gently into his, but… where was his other hand supposed to go? He could barely reach her waist without having to squat down, and she couldn’t reach his shoulder to put her own hand there without having to leap up.

“Ah… our height difference… might become problematic here…” His cheeks warmed as long ears lowered. 

“You, ahem, bring up a good point...” she replies sheepishly. There’s no graceful way to approach this obstacle without either of them looking like fools in the end. She could step on his boots, but that barely gives her an extra inch. He could pick her up and dangle her from his arms like a ragdoll, but then they wouldn’t really be dancing, would they?

She can think of one solution. It’s not as fun, but it might do. With a certain reluctance, the scout relinquishes hold of his hand. “Why don’t we just mirror each other? With a little bit of distance, it’ll be easier to track our footsteps. And we won’t have to break our necks looking up and down at each other.”

     harding was trying to be nice,  she supposed,  but the truth was that the inquisition did rely on her perhaps more than any of their other scouts.  then again,  the dwarf also knew more about more than anyone else leanne had ever met.  whatever harding said was true about an area or anything else,  leanne tended to believe her.

❛ the glowy hand bit helps,  that’s true. ❜  but she didn’t expect the next part,  not really.  it had crossed her mind before that this sort of power with the anchor,  if obtained either accidentally or intentionally by the wrong sort of person,  could be disastrous.  she had never quite looked at it this way,  though.  ❛ ーーー  thank you.  i mean that.  i … try to be the sort of person the maker wouldn’t immediately hit with a shovel. ❜

Harding responds with a small nod and a soft smile. “You’re doing a good enough job at it. Although... It might not be such a bad entry to the Chant, y’know. The Maker comes down from on high with a shovel to bonk his blessed emissary on the head. I’m no poet but I’m sure the Chantry sisters can come up with something better. It’ll make it worth listening to, at least.”

    although deeply disappointed that harding wouldn’t dance for her,  dagna settled for the hand wave and introduction.  technically that was all she needed to test out the crystal,  but now she was only more determined to get somebody to dance for her.  if she was going to toy around with a dwarven memory crystal and unlock some great secret of the universe,  go big or go home,  right ?  

❛ oh,  fine … spoilsport. ❜   with a grin at her friend,  dagna gathered up the pieces of the crystal and turned them this way,  that way,  upside down  –  click !  with the crystal in one piece again as it had been before,  she secured it into the spherical containment device she’d engineered and … waited.  she couldn’t hand it over to the inquisitor until she was certain that she could get it working again,  but she’d be heartbroken   ( for a short while )   if this failed. 

❛ when i first got my hands on this,  there was already a memory inside it.  one of calpernia and corypheus.  they were all green and glowy and echoey,  but you could make out their faces.  sister leliana said that calpernia looked upset.  and something about her becoming a vessel. she wants to exploit that weakened bond between her and corpyheus,  use it for the inquisition. ❜  she ran her hand along the device,  tapping gloved fingers against the nodes on either end. 

❛ but the tevinters or venatori or whoever broke it.  we’ll only get one more chance to record some big memories.  i’m no shaper and i don’t know if i could repair it again.  it has to be right. ❜  as she tapped on the final node,  a translucent green image of scout harding blinked into existence between them,  repeating her words and gestures as if in some strange kind of mirror before disappearing in a flicker. 

dagna gasped.  ❛ it worked !!  did you see that ?? ❜

“Corypheus and Calpernia? If they’re using it to store information, then there must be more of these out there. Imagine how much recon you could do with something like that hidden in key positions. More information with less manpower,” Harding ponders aloud.  

Harding watches in vested interest as Dagna fiddles with the device. The final taps give way to a grainier vision of the scout’s greeting before flashing out of existence. She can barely believe what had just occurred before her very eyes. It was her, from the past (merely a minute ago but still), mimicking herself. All of this is possible through lyrium manipulation? She’s seen what mages and templars can do with the stuff; to see it span even further is like watching the sunrise for the first time.

And Dagna, the absolute genius that she is, has found a way to reverse-engineer it. However long she’s been working on it is paying off. She’ll forgive the fellow dwarf for skipping out on drinks. This time. 

the taken

it was a rough ride over and you have the scrapes to show for it. they ripped you from your bedroom and locked you up in the highest tower. you never felt like yourself at home, but you were loved. whenever you vanish, they stay out all season looking for you. but what does that matter to you now? for now, you have altitude sickness. for now, all the stone walls are closing in. for now, you can feel the heat of its breath right above your spire. friendless and bored is the worst thing for you to be. when this is all over, they’ll tell stories about your rescue. but nobody ever asks what those long months in shackles felt like for you. hang in there, jailbird! your knight will come eventually! 

/ / personality: fun-loving, youthful, naive / / counterpart: the omen

Type 7: Adventurer

Adventurous | Fun | Practical

People with the Enneagram Type Seven personality tend to be enthusiastic, adventurous, and spontaneous. They are likely people-oriented and generally enjoy pursuing new relationships.

Overview 

Type Sevens want to feel like they're living life to the fullest and experiencing all the world has to offer them. They are outgoing and spontaneous with a passion for action. They thrive as travel agents, designers, photographers, and writers.

Basic Desire 

To be fulfilled and happy

Basic Fear 

Missing out on an opportunity or being deprived

Communication Style 

Sevens appreciate a positive, open-minded attitude; build a personal connection with them and listen intently to their out-of-the-box ideas.

      truth was,  dagna didn’t think of orzammar very often.  it had been her home,  but she knew what she was giving up when she left for the circle.  there were still times when she missed her father’s cooking,  or the energy at the provings,  or when the shaper actually allowed her to spend all day and night poking around and asking him a million and a half questions.  but the SURFACE !  up here,  there were no limits at all.  and she’d found that enough tenacity made anything possible.

she nodded,  holding the crystal at various angles for harding to see.  ❛ not quite magic.  lyrium,  though.  we can’t do magic because we’re dwarves,  but that also means we’re more able to work with lyrium.  which,  i guess actually DOES make it magical,  but not the kind of magic people think of when they think of magic. ❜   eager to see if her theorizing was correct,  dagna collected the three separate pieces of the crystal and fitted them against each other just so. 

❛ nothing yet.  it was broken,  but i’ve fixed it.  i think.  this half takes things in  ー  the other half stores it.  like writing it down on a scroll,  only images and sounds … like a painting,  if it moved and talked.  i need to TEST IT before giving this to leliana to use,  though.  go on,  say something or do a dance or  ーー or ーー  something for it to record ! ❜

Lyrium. Of course. The lifeblood of almost everything in this world and by many first- and secondhand accounts, the next world, too. She knows dwarves can’t work magic – nor does she have the desire to get into it even if she could – but their unique resistance to lyrium connects a few dots in her head. 

Intrigue grips the scout even more as the fellow dwarf tries to come up with ways to crack the code. Harding regretfully has nothing to offer but support... to a point. She pokes out her lip in an exaggerated pout. “I’ll do a lot for you, Dagna, but I’m not dancing on cue.”

Kaaras couldn’t help himself, chuckling at her words. He always enjoyed their banter, from the field, to moments like this. Over the months, he couldn’t say he knew her as well as he’d like to, but what he did know, he was grateful for. She was kind, exceptionally good at her job, wanted what was right for everyone else out there, and she had a teasing streak that he found attractive in her. Teasing enough to be cheeky, not to be cruel. There was a fine line between the two, and some people crossed it. Not Scout Harding. 

“Well so long as I’m in good hands, I think I’m capable of enjoying someone else taking the lead for a while,” he replied with, innocently enough, although he did realise how it may have sounded afterwards, which made his cheeks warm just a little. Right, stretching. He could do that, and he could also distract himself with that. This would be the first time he’d had time with Harding outside of anything work related, aside from small catch ups at the tavern here and there. 

He thought for a moment, why they needed to stretch for something like this when clearly the two of them were well enough fit considering their work. Alas, he didn’t complain. She was in charge tonight. 

He followed her command, and her actions, stretching his arms up over his head. “Should I be concerned what kind of dancing you have planned for us if we’re stretching?” he laughed. 

"Stretching is important!” she insists, wiggling the fingers on her outstretched hands. Yes, they didn’t technically need to stretch. Yes, they’re fit enough to do some light dancing without it. But the point remains! “D’you ever get a cramp in the middle of battle? That’s a feeling worse than getting hit by any arrows, believe me.”

And she doesn’t want to admit she designed this warm-up routine for more than one person, but seeing as it’s just the two of them, it does feel rather silly. She leads him through it regardless (she really wasn’t lying about the muscle cramps), from arms down to legs, and with a satisfied huff after a collective few minutes, they’re truly ready.

Harding is a little nervous, truth be told. She prays that neither of them hobble out of the room because of crushed toes or egos. She stands in position, hands in offering for him to take. Thankfully she didn’t have to teach him this part. A little part of her wishes she could.

“Shall we begin?”

     —THE WARDEN GRUNTS, a sort of pout fitting to lips. “Maker what I’d do for some blasted sleep.” words mumbled under breath while he cuts through throngs of people on the way down to the vendors. 

      The weapon waved in front of his face is a surprise, though the man makes no move to flinch—she’s far too skilled with such things to poke his eye out he’s sure. Carver just chuckles, and shakes his head. “Don’t get him too riled up, it’s my day off, and I’d rather not have to kick the mans arse because you decided to bully him.” 

"Hey, if he needs a good kick to the seat of the pants, it’s probably deserved,” she says as they approach the merchant stands. 

Harding conducts her business in short order – much easier to do when she above the smith’s eye line. New bow now acquired after a bit of nagging and low-level threats, she deftly flips off of Carver’s shoulders. Ah, the ground! How lovely it is to stand on again!

    ❛ right.  well…   whatever you do,  harding,  keep it up. ❜  leanne could think of a billion different explanations for scout harding’s particular brand of being everywhere at the same time,  but she was content enough to settle for the fact that it was useful and she was on the inquisition’s side.  ❛ we definitely need you. ❜

"Too much sometimes,” she jokes. Half-jokes. Okay, it’s not a joke. Harding could do with a long holiday, but she loves the job too much to really complain.

“We need you a lot more,” she points out. “If it’s worth anything, I’m glad that you’re our Inquisitor. Seeing how nasty some people can be... I’d shudder to think what that kind of power would be like in someone else’s hands. Hand. Heh.”

`

her eyes glimmer mischievously as she’s told not to let the fame go to her head.  perhaps the fame and glory itself haven’t been taken advantage of, but if the extent of her wardrobe since becoming inquisitor was any indication, the riches certainly have.  she’s never had money of her own before, not TRULY, and she’s been finding difficult to control herself every time josephine brought up some famous dressmaker.  ❝ too late. ❞

she giggles, reaching up to hide it behind a dainty hand, ❝ but don’t worry, i’ll pull my head out of my ass long enough to see things through and maybe when everything is said and done, i’ll settle down somewhere and actually get to enjoy the fruits of my fame ❞

Harding laughs a little. "Settle down? You say that like you won’t be swarmed with fans everywhere you go if we all get out of this alive,” she teases. “By the Stone, you can barely walk down the corridor without someone trying to catch your attention.”