#gracesmuggled

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤa low grumble from his throat, reined in. when he joined this band of misfits, he was under the assumption they had better time management skills ; to be proven wrong at every turn is quickly proving tiresome on his part, his eyes closing so the others do not see the roll of them. " we are not due to our destination until the end of the week. MY EXCURSION WOULD SEE US BUSY FOR A DAY, at most. "

he had to know. the ruin wasn't far, he had to know if it was still there, if there were any remnants of her left in this world. he'd take anything : her golden chain, the cracked cup from their argument, his paint brush with her initials scratched at the base. IT CAN'T ALL HAVE BEEN LOST IN HER DEATH. he can feel the residual magic that lingers in the fields to the west, knows that his wards are still working after all these years, hiding their small retreat from those that would defile it, left undisturbed. he opens his eyes, catching helena's, a desperation shining through. " i have seen it in the fade, a small cottage, BUT THERE IS A MAGIC THERE THAT IS POWERFUL. we should investigate if it is a rift. "

ㅤGregor turned his face from the sun at the sound of Helena's voice. Such a fine day felt rare enough in Skyhold, and Gregor was not about to waste it even in the midst of a conversation. His smile was fair. It said yes, I have all the time in the world to hear your thoughts on matters such as these. It never hurt to hear what others had to say.

"Right. Let me try again—"

She frowns in concentration, and she cups her hands in front of her, focusing. The green light in her left palm pulses faintly beneath her skin, but she ignores it, and she takes in a slow breath before releasing it. Magic has been difficult for her for nearly two decades now, and for the most part, she doesn't mind—for the most part, it doesn't matter. She could adjust the temperature of her tea or keep her bath warm, and she could wick the water from her hair after she washed, and she could heal. More than that was all headaches and shaking hands and the insistent fear of something she could barely remember, her experiences muddled by time and trauma and blood magic alike.

Were this thing not so troublesome, she wouldn't bother with it. Astoria has come to live a comfortable life, and part of that has been accepting that there are certain things she doesn't need. But the magic bursts out of her now, and even beyond the danger it poses (to herself, to everyone else) should they run afoul of a burst of lightning shooting from her fingertip without her consent or another hole she's somehow torn into the sky, it makes her appear weak to the rest of the world if she is so far out of control. She has never much tolerated her own vulnerability. It is even more of a danger now that so many eyes are on her.

Helena's instruction, simple though the task is, has made it infinitely easier, and Astoria's face lights up like a child's when she sees that she's done what she wanted, and that the water she summoned into her cupped palms is starting to freeze over, a thin and delicate layer of ice atop it.

❛ miss lena ? ❜ voice of warm honey . gentleness cloaking the lady . a newcomer had entered , had appeared wisply . duty demanded that she were made welcome with broad smile and tender actions , but sweet holly had already beaten her mother to that . ❛ she gave you a frog , didn't she ? ❜ loving chuckle , amusement at youngling's strange gift-giving . she would not be the first nor the last . nimble little elfling had gained the reputation of gift-giver , from stones and leaves to frogs and squirrels , she was an odd child .

@gracesmuggled​​​​ said: ““ have you told anyone else about this? ”“ {♠️ x Shadow & Bone inspired Prompts ||  accepting x}

Kaz shot a glance at Helena that conveyed, even without words, how little he appreciated the question. "I don't pay you to ask questions, do I?" he snapped, very well aware that losing his composure wasn't the way to go.

But sitting here, holding up his shirt so she could patch him up had him on edge. More than on edge, really. It took everything in him to not throw up, or run. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't bother seeking out help and would just let it heal on its own rather than risk exposing his weakness. But Kaz had an important job planned, and screwing it up because he'd overestimated himself and it hadn't worked out in his favour wasn't something he was willing to do. Broken ribs weren't really that big of a deal, and while he could endure the pain, it did limit his movements in a way he couldn't afford.

but no matter her personal desires, it’s been a goal of hers lately to familiarize herself better with the ones who survived corypheus’s attack. their losses were great, and her past reluctance to acknowledge the bravery of the inquisition’s volunteers became a point of deep regret once she was dubbed their leader. she wanted to do better, and if she had no hope of returning to her normal life in the near future, she became determined to lead by example and show the respect they deserved.

she approaches the dark-eyed woman on the battlements above the courtyard, hands clasped at her front, offering a polite smile as she’s noticed.

" you must be agent adair, “ she greets her with a nod of her head. “ i recognize your face from haven, but i don't believe we've formally met. “

the movements of the inquisition and her agents are not as SUBTLE as her leadership seems to think. or perhaps calpernia has cultivated a particularly good network of eyes and ears. this would usually be the job of some lower-ranking venatori, but this particular smuggler has had the misfortune of crossing near the lines of calpernia's design, carrying lyrium from stolen mine to camp. it is a line she would prefer remain open, even if moving the lines drawn will be necessary now that they have been found out. that need not mean the death of some smuggler, some smuggler carrying a stave no less. calpernia stands at a fork in the road and waits, waits, waits. there is no contempt within her for the smaller people of the inquisition ; they are grasping to life as they know it out of fear, and they do not understand what could be. they do not understand. they will, eventually, or die.