#circlemageamell

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(34. Bauble)

*****

“What...is it, exactly?” Randa squinted at the shiny piece of metal, turning it in her fingers.

Sera shrugged. “I dunno. Found it in a bin. Somebody chucked it out with their supper. Saw it shining so I nicked it. Thought you’d like something pretty.” She shifted, looking suddenly self-conscious, then reached out and snatched it back. “If you don’t want it just give it here. I’ll stick it in Viv’s hat and see when she notices.”

“No, I-- wait.” Randa reached out and rested a hand on the elf’s slim shoulder, squeezing it gently. Her lips curled in a slight smile. “It’s very pretty. I just...didn’t know if it was something specific.”

She thought a moment or two, then looked around the controlled chaos of Sera’s tavern apartment; dipping her fingers into a nearby container she came up with a few small sewing pins and, with a quick burst of magic, affixed them to the back of the metal. Then she pinned it to the sleeve of her armor. “What do you think? A good battle token?”

   Had she told them that she loved them? She thinks she did, hopes she did, but is that only wishful thinking? A way to ease the terrible burden of her guilt for leaving them behind -- her mother could have lived -- she could have stayed and died with them (and oh, as minutes stretch to hours, she wishes she had.)

   The fire pops, sending sparks over her boots, and she startles badly. Tucking her feet closer to the log she sits on, she shifts just enough to catch movement out of the corner of her eye, and realizes that someone is standing there -- perhaps has been for some time.

   She swipes a hand over her face, blurring sweat and tears, and clears her throat.

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(32. Dust motes)

*****

“Are you busy?” Adi looked around the library, leaning up against one of the bookshelves as Dorian ran his fingers over the spines in front of him.

“Mildly. I’m in search of a particular volume of Orlesian history which I’m told contains the most truly scandalous affairs of their nobility.” Dorian grinned at her and pulled one of the books from the shelf, sending a cloud of dust into the air with the movement. “I’m studying for small talk at Halamshiral.”

Adi sneezed and peered at him through watering eyes. “You’re not serious, I hope? I’m going to have enough trouble without you flustering everyone within hearing distance.”

“On the contrary, my dear-- what was the word?-- lethallan. Everyone will be expecting the Tevinter magister to be outrageous. The more I can play to their expectations, the less attention there will be on you.” His smile softened a little and he looked at her sideways. “Consider it a gift.”

“Thanks,” she answered dryly. “Just don’t make me have to retrieve you from the dungeons or anything.”

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(8. Sunbathing)

*****

“Ah, Captain Vallen! Come in, come in-- my boy will take your coat, yes. You’re looking for Messere Hawke, I imagine? Just up this way-- there’s a stairway to the roof.”

Aveline blinked. “What is Hawke doing on the estate roof?”

Bodahn gave an elaborate shrug. “I don’t pretend to know, Captain. I imagine you well know by now there’s no use trying to gauge the sense of everything my good master does.” His lips twitched.

Aveline sighed, nodded agreement with this assertion, and went without another word up the stairs. The sight that met her was bewildering and yet, knowing Hawke, somehow unsurprising.

Joan was stretched out on the roof with a floppy hat shading her face and, well, very little else on besides what appeared to be her smallclothes. The sun-- warm and bright as it rarely was in Kirkwall-- beat down oppressively on her exposed skin, which had already visibly reddened and darkened with the heat. Aveline looked at this with some bemusement for a moment, then cleared her throat.

“Do you have a moment, Hawke?”

Joan started at the unexpected voice, then stretched languiedly with a grin and rolled over on her side, peering up at Aveline from under the brim of the hat. “Enjoying the show, Guard-Captain?” she asked, biting her lower lip.

Aveline blinked. “...Excuse me?”

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(38. Soak)

*****

“Go away!”

He wanted to sound growly and fierce like Father did when he was angry; the eleven-year-old boy’s voice instead emerged sounding high-pitched and like a whine. He scowled and sank down further in the bath until only his eyes were above the water line.

Carver whacked small fists against the wooden door. “Come on, Elliot!” He sounded even more whiny; Elliot could take some satisfaction in that. “You’ve been in there for hours. Mother says you have to come out.”

“Shut up! I’ll come out when I wanna.” Elliot lifted his head above the water long enough for this potent rejoinder, then submerged himself again as if trying to soak the entire bathtub into his body. Carver wailed something about him being selfish and slammed his fists into the door again. Then it was quiet.

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(15. Trembling hands)

*****

“You could come with me, you know.”

“I know, dearest.”

Hayden waited. Leliana said nothing further, just looked out at the water in Val Royeaux’s harbor. “But you won’t.”

Leliana sighed, turning to face her and taking both her hands. “There is nothing I want more in the world than to travel with you wherever your search leads. But Justinia needs me. There is so much work to be done– to make the Chantry what it should be.” She stroked her fingers to Hayden’s cheek and Hayden could feel her trembling. “I have heard all you have said of the Circles, of how you were treated as a mage and an elf…I have not forgotten. It is for you that I want to make things better.”

“And so you’ll leave me alone.” Hayden tried to hide the bitterness– and failed. How many times had she been abandoned in her life once she had served someone’s purpose?

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(10. Righteous)

*****

When Rendon Howe was dead, Daniel pulled the greatsword from his body and sat down very quietly on the floor, assiduously cleaning the blade with an expression no one could read. Eventually, Morrigan sat beside him, looking at him sideways with a thoughtful glance.

“’Tis done, then,” she said softly, her tone unusually gentle. “Do you feel the better for it?”

Daniel shrugged. “I take no joy in killing anyone,” he said tiredly. “It was what had to be done.”

“You would have the right to take joy in it if you wished, I think,” she murmured, slightly dry.

“He killed my family. A death for a death. A life for a life.” Daniel’s shoulders squared and he looked down, then abruptly sheathed the blade over his back. “Honor and duty.”

“And vengeance?” She had seen the way his normally calm eyes flared with anger, even if he did not wish to admit it.

this was said too early for you to be drunk!

@moreta573 replied to your post “Did someone just send me a photoset via Tumblr messenger? Bc Tumblr...”

This sounds... like wild magic surge                

@circlemageamell replied to your post “Did someone just send me a photoset via Tumblr messenger? Bc Tumblr...”

...what                

@springagainafter replied to your post “Did someone just send me a photoset via Tumblr messenger? Bc Tumblr...”

o.O.                

@momentarything replied to your post “Did someone just send me a photoset via Tumblr messenger? Bc Tumblr...”

Go home you're drunk                

I did get very very drunk last night, but this was before that. :P