#first conversation

The girl sat alone, apart from her companions, gazing out across the Marches drenched in the blood-red light of the setting sun. Nothing about her invited company, and the Wardens could respect that, to a point. But some things could not be ignored forever.

“Ashiren ...”

Ashiren Mahariel, Hero of Ferelden, former Warden-Commander of Ferelden, tore her gaze from the lonely figure sitting away from the group that had just emerged from the Deep Roads. Alistair had already tried to talk to the girl, but had simply been rebuffed; if even he couldn’t convince her to talk, it was doubtful anyone else could. But it seemed that Stroud thought otherwise. He handed a loaded plate to the Dalish Warden, nodding to the lone figure.

“Feed her,” he said in a short tone. “She might listen to you.”

Ashiren’s expression darkened. She knew what he meant by that. The circumstances of her own Joining had not been so very different to the newcomer’s. it was not a time she liked to return to, even to help another. But this other needed help, and it seemed she was the only one likely to give it. She took the plate, moving to leave the merry little camp and walk over to the seated human.

“Here,” she said, not unkindly. “I brought food.”

She sat down beside the girl, laying the plate on the stone between them. Dark eyes glanced down at the offering and back to the darkening horizon.

“I’m not hungry.”

Ashiren nodded, her own eyes fixed on the horizon. Somewhere over there, near Kirkwall, she realized. Her clan - her former clan - was so near. Yet Marethari would never take her back. That had been made perfectly clear when she had left. She wondered how they were - Merrill, Ilen, Pol, Fenarel. The family that had forsaken her to save her life too many years ago. 

“You’re her, aren’t you?” the girl at her side said suddenly. “The Hero of Ferelden.”

“One of the heroes,” Ashiren answered in a level tone, taking a hunk of meat from the plate to stuff it in her own mouth. Waste not. “You told the other one to go stuff himself about an hour ago.”

“Oh.”

She felt the girl twist to look back to the camp, knowing she was likely to see Alistair halfway through picking the last pieces of a grouse. It wasn’t the most attractive sight in the world, but it definitely marked him out as nothing more than mortal. Mortal with a ridiculous appetite, but still mortal.

“He likes being a Warden, doesn’t he?” the human girl commented bitterly. “Pulled away from family and friends, away from everything that’s familiar -”

“The Wardens are the only true family he has ever known,” Ashiren told her sharply. “You should not judge others before you know them.” She glanced at the pale profile beside her. “Yes, Alistair likes being a Warden. He has reason to.”

“But you don’t?”

Ashiren’s brow rose, surprised by this little shemlen’s insight. She didn’t see any point in lying.

“I had a family,” she said quietly. “I had a clan. They cast me out and gave me to the Wardens when I contracted the Taint. And they did it to save my life.”

There was silence for a long moment, broken only by the sound of chatter from behind them, and the quiet crunch as the girl reached down to take a tuber from the plate and chew on it.

“It doesn’t feel like I’ve been saved.”

Ashiren sighed, straightening her shoulders. “You haven’t,” she said simply. “The Joining is not a cure; it’s a life sentence.”

She rose to her feet, looking down at the human girl who had not been given any more choice in her fate than her own clan had given her.

“It never stops hurting,” she added in a low tone. “But there’s one thing that holds true. From this day, until your last day, Bethany Hawke ... you will never be alone in the darkness.”

I made up for it by talking to him again -- properly and with intent. He was flattered, but concerned that I hadn't even thought about protecting myself (it never occurred to me -- mostly because I knew what he was like). He said I was trying to walk before I could crawl and to do my research before talking to him again. I think I'm ready, now, so I might try again. “

The Magic of the "First Time" 🏛️✨

We are officially entering our 2026 "electric nostalgia" era. 🕯️🦢 There is something so profoundly visceral about the simplicity of a minimalist, white-on-black quote—the raw, unfiltered admission that you still carry the weight of that very first conversation. It’s giving "soul-deep resonance" meets "unspoken destiny." 🕊️💎 We’re trading the fleeting "likes" for the permanent impact of a moment that changed the trajectory of our hearts. 🏛️☁️

Imagine scrolling back to the very beginning, past the inside jokes and the late-night calls, to the exact point where "stranger" turned into "everything." 🏹🕰️ It’s about the art of the initial spark—the way a few simple words can ignite a frequency that stays with you long after the screen goes dark. 🌊🗝️ Whether you’re celebrating a love that’s lasted years or manifesting that one connection that feels like a reset button for your life, let this be your official sign to cherish the origin story. 🥂🖤 True connection isn't just about where you are; it's about the magic of how you started. 🕯️✨

One message. One moment. One life-changing feeling. 🪐⚡

CONALL: Perdí harto en la vida y quizás es un trauma

DI: Lo siento

Muy desconocida como para preguntar?

CONALL: Tú confiaste en mí, ¿por qué no lo haría yo?

Tuve unos malos años cuando estaba estudiando en la universidad

Muchos vicios que terminaron enviándome a rehabilitación

También una mala relación en ese mismo tiempo