#godforge

@godforge​​  - ‘you ought to rest some. you look like death.’ - for ash!

Arriving at the Inquisition had been raging over hell and high water. Leaving Anders behind for his safety was half the stress. Ash leaned against a brick wall, wondering where Varric had gotten off. In their stupor, they almost hadn’t heard the Inquisitor. She seemed a decent sort-- Ash thought they had a knack for knowing when people were-- and they tried not to snap at her.

Their temper had always been their greatest downfall. At least, they weren’t Carver. Who they missed. Sorely. Wherever he was right now, in this horrible war. Hopefully, sending Avaline to retrieve him from the templars had kept him from being strung up as a mage sympathizer.

Bloody rotten templars.

They shook their head, “I will. Soon.” Probably. Hopefully. They still wanted to talk to Varric again.To be honest, they hadn’t been here long at all and still had a fearsome journey ahead. Not that they weren’t used to fearsome journeys. A quiet laugh, that tried so hard not to sound bitter passed through their lips. 

How quickly Ash had lost everything. Their mother. Their city. Their friends then scattered to the winds. Once they were done here, they planned to go retrieve Fenris and drag him back by the ears. Every day was trying to survive one to the next-- but Ash couldn’t afford not to think ahead. The future kept them going.

“Don’t worry about me, Inquisitor,” they said, a confident smirk curling their lips, “I’ll be fine.”

          GLIMPSE OF GOLD, the very image of Andraste reborn. Capturing her attention, the woman she wished to pass introductions. Hands made swift work to straighten attire, to appear presentable, as legs carried Serene lightly yet purposely across the snow-covered earth. First meetings with the Herald, the sole survivor of a tragedy, first of many destined for the future. A purpose behind this unorganized encounter, time was too precious to waste on waiting, &&. there were many to help.

           ❛  Lady Trevelyan  ?  ❜  FORMIDABLE FAMILY KNOWN to the woman, nobility often held connections to one another. A name often heard in her travels, a name from the past.  ❛  I apologize for not arranging a meeting, but with the current condition of the world, I believe it would have been too long of a wait.  ❜

        She must have spoken to one of his apprentices that followed him to Haven, or perhaps there’s something about him that invites those he comes into contact with to share their troubles. Luke can’t otherwise imagine why the Herald of Andraste would seek him out for something so personal, so vulnerable. He’s just another mage among the mass gathered here to help close the Breach. And yet, he’s flattered — honored, even — that Lady Trevelyan would trust him with something like this. Looking to her, his face can’t mask the empathy and the sorrow he feels for her situation.

       ❝ I’m sorry to hear that, my lady. Here, come sit with me a moment? ❞ He phrases it as a question, giving her the option to back out if he’s overstepping. The enchanter doesn’t move from his spot on the dock when he offers a gloved hand to the Herald.

        A small smile rises on his face when she takes his hand. Without even thinking, he helps ease her down to the open spot next to him. Blue eyes turn from her to glance at the horizon. There’s nothing save snow for miles and miles past them and the glowing threat of the Breach in the sky, but it’s… calming, almost. A reminder of the steps they’ve taken so far and must continue to go.

        ❝ You’re not alone in that sentiment. You’re feeling a similar grief and pain we all go through at some point in our lives… Life itself is chaotic and unpredictable. Nothing can ever prepare us for the twists and turns it brings. We’ll see and experience things that shake us to the very core. We mourn, we regret, we wish for things to be different. In the short time you’ve been involved with the Inquisition, you’ve seen so much. ❞ Not a day goes by where Luke doesn’t remember the death of his mentor, the demons that took control of Kinloch Hold, the darkspawn in Denerim that nearly destroyed the nation, the apprentices he’s had to mourn over the years. But the fact that he’s sitting here now shows that not everything was lost, that one can recover from the wreckage.

          “Wait just one moment, My Lady.” Some one had caught his eye, his cousin Marzell, attempting to woo a young lady of the court. The two acted far more like brothers, always trying to one up the other. Snow had come early that year, blanketing the land in white. He is quick to form a ball of snow and with rather precise accuracy he throws it. The projectile finds its mark at the back of his cousin’s head. He is quick to fall from sight, returning to the path he had been on. “May I trust you will say not a word of what you just saw should he ask?” His blue eyed gaze nearly sparkles as he gives her a charming smile.

@godforge​ sent:  “  yes.  i am telling you what to do.  i’m telling you not to pull something like that again because—  ‘cause fucking hell.  i care about you.  okay? ”

 ~    He is taken aback at how...distraught Esyllt is. For a moment, he isn’t quite sure how to respond. ~

@godforge asked: “ it’s time to come home now. ”

~ " This place, these people -- they are not my home, " he replies softly. Though his lips pull in a wry smile, his eyes are tired; the eyes of an old god that has been fighting against the tide for far too long. ~

@godforge​ - ‘the truth will come out. maybe not today… and maybe not tomorrow, but it will.’ - for isadora! 

Ever since she had arrived at Skyhold, Isadora had made it no secret that she did not care for their presence in Ferelden. Loghain and her would have disagreed on many things, but neither cared to see Ferelden occupied. Unlike her old foe, Isadora was not a snake nor a coward nor willing to sacrifice common sense to keep it that way. Which was why she was here. Peaceably, at the behest of dear Leliana. But her patience only extended so far. Maybe they were not meant as such, Isadora perceived a threat. Most days she perceived threats. Warden Queen was a title that carried a heavy burden, especially when one was also the Commander of those wardens. Political intrigue was hardly her forte, but many must think she craved it being both Warden and Queen, with all the contradictions that came with it. She broke enough rules to make enemies. Her eyes flicked over to where Morrigan had sauntered off to earlier, her echoes still there. She knew that Kieran was here, but she had not laid her eyes on him yet. Not that she was afraid too-- for all that he contained, Kieran was a child. But he was hardly the only secret she kept. 

The Architect was out there somewhere. Had this Esyllt Trevelyan somehow discovered the talking darkspawn? They had kept themselves hidden thus far. Her teeth grit on edge, as she rolled back her neck to look down at the other woman. 

          ❝only those lost in thought would find themselves wandering up here so late.❞

     leliana is gentle in making her presence known to the inquisitor, falling into place beside her, her own arms folded over the small balcony. she can still hear the clamoring of people downstairs, even in the small hours of the morning. it seems that skyhold never sleeps - and neither does its spymaster. 

     ❝or you are simply trying to avoid... down 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄. either way i cannot blame you. i heard about adamant. i can imagine it was exhausting, you should rest, soon.❞