#post-dai

DAdrawtober Day 2 - Underwater

I lost a day thanks to a 24h migraine, but I’m back at it! This is me pretending that Hawke survives the fade by swimming out of an underwater rift (???) because this is my emotional support headcanon and no one can tell me otherwise.

@faerieavalon tagged me in a best line writing meme, which is a new one for me! These are the last lines of Impossible Magister, which I literally wrote to start the piece. They drew me on through a whirlwind writing session, tantalizing me from the bottom of the page. It's still one of the favourite things I've published.

Every vein of lyrium blazed in a flash of pain as it touched Pavus’s bloody arm, bared to the northern heat. Confusion flickered through the impossible magister’s eyes, raw power flowing freely at his fingertips.

“She is the reason I am better than this,” Fenris replied, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “Now draw.”

lmao fam you think you are subtle going on anon but you are not :P i don’t generally post on tumblr but here you go, have merrill’s part

i. thedalish pariah

Mamae speaks of him often. Your father. All the time really.And none of it is anything like the stories every child in Kirkwall has grownup with. Not nearly as interesting either.

She looks at wildflowers in the spring and says, “Yourfather used to braid those into bracelets for me but they were always soterrible! His hands were so big, he always ended up crushing the flowers. Butthe thought was nice all the same.”

She passes by taverns and says, “Did I ever tell you aboutthe time your father bought drinks for everyone at the Hanged Man? They used tocheer his name every time he walked in.”

When it rains, she says every time without fail, “He took medancing around the vhenadahl in the rain once but the alienage was so muddy weslipped and fell. Dirtied all our clothes. Probably should have worn shoes withsoles.”

She still doesn’t wear shoes with soles.

Mamae always sounds so wistful that you never have the heartto tell her you don’t really care.Your father died a long time ago. You never knew him, you don’t remember himand try as you might for Mamae’s sake, you can’t bring yourself to care aboutthe same stories she’s repeated a thousand times over.

But Mamae, you realize, needsto remember. Perhaps it’s because she believes she’s the only one who does remember- it’s hard to imagine theconquering Champion as the same man who braided wildflowers for Mamae. Orperhaps it’s because it’s simply in Mamae’s nature. She’s always lived a littlein the past, your mother. She hoards her memories the same way she hoards thetrinkets and history of a people that don’t want her back. She does it becauseshe feels she has to.

Either way, when you wake up at night and hear Mamae pacing,hear her talking to herself- “Don’t listen to them Merrill, this is one thingeven they cannot undo”- you know Mamae needs to talk about it. She needssomeone to listen.

@irrewilderer tagged me in a WIP Wednesday yesterday (first time anyone’s done THAT in literal years…I feel so nostalgic!) and made a request for some Morrigan/Blackwall…

I haven’t written these two in ages! My divorce is going to be finalized this week, so maybe it’s time to start channeling some of Morrigan's energy again?

Post-DAI, Pre-Veilguard? still just some rough conversations happening here in the Deep Roads…(ok, so this is sad, not sexy, but I'm working on the sexy parts, too, promise! and will share when ready!)

“Your boy mentioned that you were with his father…I assumed he was being cryptic…that you had gone to live in the Fade with his spirit or found that miraculous Cure you were after and reconciled or…something. But not this!” He shakes his head. “Morrigan, this is…” “You shouldn’t be here,” she hisses, pulling him further into the little alcove as another patrol marches past. “Neither should you…” he murmurs, still in disbelief. “How are you here? And…unaffected?”

Visiting Chantry Sister: *begins sobbing*

Innkeeper: Wait, I got a bit confused because everyone keeps mentioning the war, so could you...

Innkeeper: What's wrong?

Visiting Templar: It's all right.

Innkeeper: Is there something wrong?

Templar: Would you stop talking about the war?

Innkeeper: Me? You started it!

Templar: We did not start it!