#devincio

it  takes  nothing  more  than  a  letter  suggesting  she  join  them  to  have  her  packing  her  things,  cleaning  a  camp  that  became  more  of  a  home  than  anything.     necessities  only,  she  tells  herself,  yet  finds  most  items  packed.     books,  tools,  trinkets.     mostly  books.     when  everything  else  is  packed,  secured  on  her  back  in  as  few  bags  as  possible     (     the  few  things  that  remain  are  large,  tables  &  the  like  she  once  struggled  to  bring  to  the  ruins     -----     they  will  wait  for  her  inevitable  return     )     she  stands  before  the  eluvian.     fingers  trace over  the  frame,  woeful  gaze  faintly  reflected  in  the  dull  glass.     it’s  much  too  large  to  bring  through  cities  &  mountains.     her  hand  lingers  as  she  turns  to  leave,  hesitant  to  leave  it  behind.

long  travels  are  something  she’s  used  to,  feet  sore  but  carrying  forward     (     but  this  time,  she  wears  proper  shoes,  mindful  of  the  mountains  in  her  path     ).     it’s  days  before  the  hold  finally  rises  over  the  horizon,  &  awe  strikes  her  as  it  does.     merrill  had  an  elaborate  image  in  mind,  created  from  descriptions  in  letters,  but  the  sight  makes  them  pale  in  comparison.     those  shoes  of  hers  are  abandoned  the  second  feet   meet  the  bridge,  the  cold  against  skin  refreshing  in  spite  of  the  temperature.     she’s  calling  his  name  before  she  passes  the  gate.

fingers  fidget  with  rising  anticipation.     the  mere  idea  of  seeing  him  again  after  so  long  has  her  excited,  eager.     there’s  so  much  to  talk  about,  things  that  letters  never  quite  seemed  to  do  justice.     but  the  bustle  of  skyhold  sidetracks  her  with  the  people  passing  &  welcomed  feeling  of  grass  &  dirt  beneath  her  feet.

          ❛ 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? ❜

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.