ANDRASTE'S TITS

THE SUN AND HER FLOWERS↳ accepting // @valkury

THE SUN AND HER FLOWERS↳ accepting // @ameridn​

          It was a strange feeling getting uplifting advice from someone who–by all reason and logic–should be dead. He hadn’t been there when the Inquisitor uncovered him…. the other Inquisitor… but he’d read the reports ( plucked them off Leliana’s desk in what he thought was a stealthy fashion, but he figured she’d know they were gone and who took them ). 

             it’s  a  near  INSTINCTIVE  response  to  stand  at  attention  upon  hearing  certain  voices  —–  and  of  course ,  the  now - king  alistair’s  is  no  exception  to  the  rule .  cullen  straightens ,  back  stiff  as  a  board  as  he  prepares  to  indulge  in  small  talk ,  and  it’s  only  when  alistair’s  particular  HUMOR  begins  to  make  itself  known  that  the  commander  can  allow  himself  to  relax  his  stance ,  if  only  a  touch .  why ,  he  even  finds  himself  SMILING  as  the  king  looks  through  his  bookshelf .  ‘  and  if  I  am ,  it’s  by  no  choice  of  mine ;  I  wouldn’t  be  surprised  if  someone  attempted  to  have  a  laugh  at  my  expense .  ’  admittedly ,  it’s  something  he  doesn’t  mind  as  much  as  he  did  before .  ‘  hoping  to  READ  them  without  asking  the  dwarf  himself  for  a  copy ,  your  majesty ?  ’

          Alistair grimaced at being labeled YOUR MAJESTY in such an informal meeting, though thankfully he was turned away from Cullen. You’d think after more than ten years on the throne that he’d be used to the title but he just could never shake the feeling that he was in over his head, playing dress up in his father’s closet. Not that he’d ever gotten that experience in the first place, but he imagined that’s what it felt like--a strange sense of not belonging in the first place. 

          When he turned back to face Cullen, Alistair’s face was painted with an easy-going smile.  ❛ C’mon Rutherfod, your majesty was my father, and besides I’ve known you far too long for such formality. ❜ Taking his stroll around the room as though he owned the place ( which he did, in fact, not ), Alistair leaned up against the desk, shifting his weight to one foot as he crossed his arms over his chest.  ❛ So what do you do now? Spend all day in here planning your, er, commands? ❜

          ❛ I don’t like this, ❜ he said, his tone uncharacteristically firm as he nodded towards the Deep Roads entrance he was sure they were going to have to enter.  ❛ Why did Branka have to go and get herself lost down there? You know what’s down there, Nanna? BAD THINGS. Bad things are in the Deep Roads. ❜

          ❛ Did you ever think you’d end up here? ❜ Alistair’s question was but a WHISPER that floated in between the words of other people speaking in the tower. The rookery there in Skyhold was definitely a sight to behold, something he could only liken to the rookery in Weisshaupt, but even that didn’t compare. It had been years since he’d spoken to Sister Leliana, and she definitely had a different air about her than he remembered. Gone was the velvety porcelain skin replaced with shadows under her eyes and creases in her forehead. He understood. He lacked sleep these days too. 

          ❛ Quite the upgrade you have here, ❜ Alistair said, finding himself leaning against the frame of one of the doors to Cullen’s shiny new office.  ❛ I’d almost be jealous but it looks like you have a hole in your roof. ❜ He gestured up towards the sunlight pouring down through the hole and spilling all over the ladder down towards where they were standing.  ❛ Can’t imagine anything in KIRKWALL this nice. ❜ There was a chuckle that escaped his lips as he moved forward inside the office and started thumbing through the other man’s collection of books.  ❛ You’re not hiding any of Varric’s serials in here, are you? ❜

          Being back at Haven was SURREAL. Even though Anora had insisted he go for his own benefit and the fact that she’d made a gaggle of guards and advisers go with him, something still felt off about it. Maybe it was the shivers that still chased up his spine thinking about the cultists who had held Brother Gevinti hostage when he’d come too close of discovering the URN OF SACRED ASHES. Their old practices were moot now, considering the fact that the temple had been put on display as a pilgrimage not soon after. By his own choice, Alistair had little say in the matter, and left it to Anora to decide what Fereldan’s king would do with it. 

          He’d been standing near the entrance, mostly admiring the craftsmanship of their blacksmith at the Inquisition when he spotted the acclaimed Herald herself having what looked like a heated discussion with his old friend. Didn’t look like something he particularly wanted to get involved in, but he needed to speak with someone and he couldn’t seem to get an audience with their diplomat, and Leliana had been otherwise indisposed. 

A SOFTER THEDAS ↳ accepting // @devincio

          The time between leaving the fade–leaving his father, leaving the life he could have enjoyed if he were a different person–and then easing Isabela’s ship back into the docks near Denerim felt like a LIFETIME. He spent most of the time in his own head, naturally, and despite persistent attempts by Isabela to get him to relax, he remained rigid. Varric wasn’t what he’d call a friend, but it felt out of place to call him an acquaintance after the ordeal they’d been through in Tevinter trying to find Maric. He really ought to thank the pair, but didn’t really have the words to express his gratitude, not in a way that made sense, at least.