A prompt for the DA Drunk Writing Circle: Sharing a secret from each other's past, with your favorite friendship in Dragon Age!
âAnd that was how I charmed the Arch Deacon of the Tower ofMinrathous to exclude me from his Foreign Magic seminar.â
His tea partner had to put her cup down to let out an uncontrolledlaugh, which almost felt like stealing desserts from his family houseâs kitchenat night. It was very unlike The Iron Lady to do anything uncontrolled, whichmade these little visits of theirs that much more exciting. They had decided tocall it Wednesday Tea. It didnât happen on Wednesdays, just whenever the two ofthem could find a few hours to spare in between their busy schedules ofmeetings with nobles and going on ventures with the Lady Inquisitor. The fellowmage was one of the only brushes of civilized conversation he could find in theKeep.
âMarvelous, darling. Youâve always been quite the charmer,havenât you? There had to have been a time when you werenât this suave.â She accused,slowly swirling her spoon into her cup of tea as her gaze never left his. Therewas a steeled demeanor about her that made him feel like he could never say no.Almost like his governess.
âThese kinds of things do not come for free, dear friend. Ishow you mine and you show me yours?â A moment of silence passed between thembefore she slowly nodded while taking a sip of her usually dark brew. In hisopinion she let her tea steep for far too long, but she was not a woman oflighter delicacies.
âThere was a time in my life where, well â â He sipped hisdrink as if it were a stiff brandy for courage before continuing. âI left the Orderof Argent, left my family â and lived in an elven alienage in Minrathous for months.Hah â never quite lived up to what my father wished, but, what does he know?â Hesmiled through the pain, a ritual he had learned in Tevinter politics. Alexiuswas quick to catch him up not only on magical teaching, but the ways of theMagister.
âOh Dorian, I am so sorry. They took you in?â Vivienne asked,her posture softening as she set her teacup down on the table between them.
âMost of them were escaped slaves or non-mages. None were consideredhighly in Tevinter. I guess they took one look at me and knew I needed help. Iwas able to be of use by making simple potions and giving notes to their magesin hiding. That was in between my hangovers and nights trying to forget myfather. It worked out in the end, I suppose.â He finished with a shrug, finishingoff his tea before relaxing back into his chair.
Opening was  ⌠nothis strong suit and apparently made his posture stiff. Vivienne responded in kindby rolling her shoulders and glancing over to make sure that nobody waslistening. He even felt her barrier expand through him to sense any lifeformsthat could be in hiding among the walls. Dorian smirked. She had obviouslylived in Orlais with that amount of distrust.
âAfter the Duke and I began communicating, the Orlesiancourt began making their opinions known. At first it was just anonymous lettersand spies ransacking my home in an attempt to find any sort of incriminatinginformation.â She said it matter-of-factly as she crossed her legs and restedher arm on the top of her chaise lounge.
âPredictable.â He clicked his tongue on the back of histeeth with an eye roll.
âCorrect. After that didnât work, those opposing my positionbegan to send more lethal forms of communication. The first two I was able torecruit to my side. They were weak willed and in search of someone who coulddirect them and pay handsomely. To this day they are still in my employ.â Shepursed her lips into a thin line, looking out the window of her balcony. âBut thethird was different.â
Dorian leaned forward and rested his elbows on top of hisknees to support his head. âHow so?â
Madame de Fer took in a deep breath, every feature in her facehardening. âThey sent a child.â
The silence between them was deafening and he rubbed bothhands through his hair. âBastards.â
âHe was quite skilled, managed to get into my bedroom withoutsetting off my alarms. He startled me in my sleep, so I responded as I had beentrained.â Vivienne ran her nails over her scalp while groaning at the memory.As restrained as she was, it was obvious to him that she was disturbed by it. âTheice spike hit his heart perfectly. He did not suffer long. But it was longenough for me to see the shock and pain on his face. I would guess he was maybeeleven? Twelve summers?â
âWhat happened after that? Did you discover where he hadcome from?â He was half tempted to reach out and touch her in a show ofsympathy, but that was not their way. They bonded through words as kindredspirits, not actions.
âNo. It was wise not to give his employer the benefit ofrecognition. It was swept under the rug, like everything else. Orlais forgothim, but I have not.â She finished, each word turning sharper with frigid mourning.There was no regret. He would be surprised if she had any, but there were timesthat they wished could be erased away.
âKaffas, Vivienne.I am so sorry.â He said defeatedly.
âI am not. I did what had to be done. But wasting a life,especially one so young. It should have been avoided. Now that I did make known.â There was a wicked smirk on her lips thatcaught his attention.
âOh? How did you accomplish that, my friend?â
âI cut off their trade with many noble houses, the Circle,and the Chantry. Then I burned their library and offices.â Her smile only grewbut he simply raise a brow and tilted his head in question.
âWhy those places? Why not the whole building?â
Vivienne lightly scoffed to tease him, shaking her head beforeanswering. âYou of all people should know, Dorian. You are nothing without yourrecords to prove who you are and what you mean to people. Statements ofalliances, proof of relations, family trees and crests. Without them, you arenobody. That is what they now are.â @dadrunkwriting @contreparry
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(Talesfromthefade) OC is still sleepy/waking, uncertain if their most recent recollection of an event/interaction with a person was a dream or not, for DWC?
Thanks for the prompt! :D
Stress did not work well for Lady Trevelyan. Â
In her days at her family house, her father used to jokethat the place was haunted by the ghost of a little girl. He would wake up andthe food stores would be rifled through, the hay in the barn would bescattered, and sometimes the paintings in the hall would be slightly off balance. At times of familystrife, the young ghost seemed to be the most active.  That held true for Skyhold.  They had returned from Halamshiral and while things for theEmpire appeared to be improved, it had taken a toll on the Inquisitor. She hadallowed the Empress of Orlais to be brutally murdered in front of all of herfollowers. Even though she was able to enjoy a dance or two with her newpartner, in between the blips of happiness she was stone-faced and lost in thought.The Spymaster had said it was a victory for the elves and those who were crushedunderneath Celeneâs regime.  The travel back was filled with talks about politicalalliances and how to reduce the chaos caused by the shift of power. It broughtback the ghost of the Trevelyan Manor. That particular night she was shufflingaround by moonlight on the battlements of the Keep. The path was familiar toher, and it called to her that night. There was no sound alerting others evenas she ungracefully slid her slippers along the stone with her arms at hersides.  Any soldier that saw her made no comment, they simply allowedher to pass. Rathein Trevelyan pushed open a slightly broken down door and thenstood on the inside. A voice called out: âHey, you alright?â The voice feltfamiliar so she moved towards it, rubbing her eye with one hand as her feetslid against the floor.  âNo â I wanna sleep.â âOh â okay. Come here.â Warm, large arms picked her up fromthe ground and cradled her to his chest. It was a familiar smell, one of sweatfrom a difficult battle and a bitter antivenom that he drank before bedtime. Sherubbed her cheek on his chest and took in a deep breath, sighing directly ontohis skin. He shuddered at the hot air, but she was growing sleepier by thesecond within his grasp. They had never spent the night together. Rathein, however,knew these scents. They brought her comfortafter a hard day in the War Council, whether it be a random explosion of energybehind the tavern or a long, drawn out ritual-type experience in his room.  The source of warmth walked back on the trail of the ghost throughthe battlements, up the stairs, and into her room. A burst of rosemary in theair let her know it was her room. She wrinkled her nose and turned her head tohide in his chest, clutching her hands to her chest as he gently placed her onthe bed. He brought the blanket up to her chin and pressed his lips to herhead, slowly turning away.  Snap.  Her arm shot out and grabbed onto the back of his pants,holding him in place. There was a low chuckle in the air, one that normallymade her stomach twist into excited knots, but instead it frustrated her. âYes?âHe asked, not moving or fighting her grip.  âStay. Itâs cold.â The Inquisitor whined petulantly.  âBoss, are you sure? We havenât talked about â â He said ina direct yet friendly tone, the usual way his voice turned when they werespeaking of the subject of their relationship.  âPlease, Bull.âRathein pressed as her voice lost some of the childlike tone that came with herexhaustion. There was an extended moment of silence as she fought the urge tofall back into the grip of the Fade, but then she heard heavy steps round thebed. A large weight then pressed on the other side of the mattress. Two largeitems fell against the floor and then the blankets were pulled up. She almostwhined at the burst of air but the space was replaced by his large, warm body pressed up against her back.  His breathing was steady, but shaky? She didnât have thethought to care. Rathein turned over and placed her hand on his chest while sherested her head on his outstretched arm. It did not take long for the darknessto claim her, but she went into that deep sleep with a soft smile on her lips.  When the morning came, she woke gently from one of the bestsleeps she had received in weeks. Typically the stress would have her up atsunrise and she would walk along the battlements with the Commander discussingwhat needed to be done for the day. Instead, she could tell it was later in themorning by the reflection of the sun in her windows. Did she dream? She hadsmall glimpses of walking through the castle but â Rathein paused and turned onthe bed, seeing nothing but a neatly tucked in blanket. It was how it always wasevery morning. Nothing was out of place. Her slippers were at her bedside wherethey always were.  What changed? Why did she sleep so well?  She looked over to the empty side of the bed and sighed,running her hand over the blanket. Was it warm? How could â Rathein shook herhead, thinking it was some kind of dream, but there was the aching feeling thatit wasnât that. She itched the shaven side of her head and tried to figure outwhat to do. She went with her gut, leaned over, and smelled the pillow.  Small traces of sweat and horn polish were on the pillow, eventhough there wasnât a wrinkle of an indentation hinting that someone was there.The feelings brought an overwhelming sense of comfort to her mind, the worryand fear melting from her face as she smiled. Typically the Ghost of TrevelyanManor induced chaos, but this time, it found its peace in the right person.@dadrunkwriting
For the DADWC: Gloaming: defined as twilight and dusk; the dayâs end, the glittery, transient echo when time and nature meet, with the character of your choice!
Oooohhh this one couldnât come fast enough.Â
Time.
It was an odd thing to have when you typically had none. âGo on a breakâ. They had told him. For what? There was still plenty of things to do for the Inquisition, even with Corypheus gone. The soldiers needed to be tended to properly, letters sent to update worried families, the equipment needed to be repair and calibrated just in case some of the Tevinterâs rogue followers wanted to attack and â
âMakerâs mercy.â He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose with a groan. He hadnât taken a proper break since before he entered the Templar Order. Typically he wouldnât have left Skyhold, but there was much pressing and he had been backed into a corner by her and his sister. They were stopping by Honnleath on their way to Denerim to visit the King and for him to participate in a tournament on Skyholdâs behalf. He knew the Fereldens were going to be the type to hold a grudge. He also knew he would not allow himself to lose for the sake of another person. It wasnât in his nature to hand over victory so easily.
Still, the travel to Ferelden would help clear his mind and get him away from Skyhold. Denerim would also provide him the opportunity to catch up with Alistair. They hadnât seen each other since the Wintersend Ball at Skyhold and the King had been preoccupied with Corypheus and political matters.
Mia was insistent that he visit their parents old home. It felt odd to think about going there. The scar of the Blight was visible all across his homeland, and the emptiness of his childhood home only deepened that old wound. They had fought to the bitter end, and thankfully him and his siblings werenât at home when the Darkspawn struck. But, a letter wrote that they had fought to their last breath, his mother wielding a Warhammer from her blacksmith shop. Unfortunately, her trademark tool couldnât be found and he was sure one of the blighted had taken it with them.
He was supposed to relax. His thoughts felt like a thousand of Seraâs bees roaring in his head so he forced himself to open his eyes and look at the water. It had been a spot he always ran to for an escape.
The stillness of the water and the faint light coming in through the trees created a space of peace for him. The night before he was taken away for Templar training he came here by himself and spent the night. For some reason, this location just settled his mind no matter what was happening.
He leaned against the post at the end of the dock and sighed, relaxing his posture for what felt like the first time in months. There was nobody coming to find them. There was no battle in the near future he needed to prepare for. Everyone was safe. He repeated the words to himself like a mantra until he almost believed them, a faint smirk coming to his lips. The sun was setting in the distance and the final burst of light hung in the air like the glow bugs that were beginning to appear in the shadows of the trees and on the surface of the water.
Finally, Cullen Rutherfod was at peace.
Time stretched in that moment of realization, filling his body with warmth even as the sun left his place of solace. He could have stayed there forever, but they had matters to attend to. Still, it was a start.
Before he could turn he heard a voice call to him. âCullen! Are you alright?â
He turned from the end of the dock and smiled at the woman with brown curls sitting on the back of her horse, her black wolf weaving in between the creatureâs legs. Cullen dug into his pocket, rubbing his thumb over the top of a familiar coin before flipping it into the air with half a laugh.
âActually â Yes. I think I am.â@dadrunkwriting
So this was a terrible idea given to me by a few readers and @solverne-02 about what happened after Redcliffe to Athena and the others in the year before the Inquisitor and Dorian show up in my fic Tales of the Fadewalker.Â
So I wrote it - trigger warning for minor torture and wounds - just in case.
It had taken three months for The Elder One to come to full power. Â
Without the Mark, unnatural tears in the Veil conquered the skies. Â
The members of the Inquisition that were in Redcliffe Keep fled when Dorian and the Herald of Andraste did not return. But without a keep such as Skyhold to protect them, the people of Haven fell. Â
The final battle from the Chantry was led by Commander Cullen, who so bravely stared into the faces of a thousand demons and struck them down by one by one. Watching him fall was the thing to break the Inquisitionâs resolve. When the demons broke through the Chantry doors, they did not kill everyone on sight. They were led by their corrupted Templar masters and ordered to drag the survivors back to Redcliffe for information. Â
Corypheus and Alexius were still paranoid of the return of the one who could close the rifts. But even more so, his Nightmare Demon had whispered stories of one who had crossed the Veil. One who had crossed from worlds and clung to secrets of Thedas. Those rumors spread through the remaining members of the Inquisition and one by one they turned. Â
You could have prevented this!
You knew!
Unfortunately, she knew. Even worse, she knew that they would all be destroyed in this reality. They would cease to exist the moment the Herald came into this reality and disappeared again. It was difficult to hold onto that hope when every day she was dragged through the sludge of Redcliffeâs underbelly and thrown onto a rack. They grew unique in their tortures. Â
The obvious first was physical. She was lashed until the leather of their whip hit bone. She was held underneath water until she thought she would never know air again. Joints broken, skin torn, everything but her spirit was attacked in those opening days. All for shreds of knowledge in a world that didnât matter anymore.
 Then there was the mental. The Elder One had endless demons at his disposal and Nightmare was particularly skilled in breaking through her walls. With a body that was barely a shell, how hard could it be to break though the mind? But she still held on, and with each passing day the screams faded. She had accepted her reality. She had accepted the future of the millions of stinging wasps that demons fabricated into her mind. Â
The Elder One did not care for weakness, and there were no healers in their ranks. They had to force one of the Inquisitionâs own to do that sort of work for them. So, every day, for months, Athenaâs broken body was thrown onto a cold, hard table in front of an elf. The sight of him used to bring her joy, adoration even, but when her secret was revealed to the Inner Party he became as detached as the rest of them. He would fix her body when it was broken, mend the wounds and return her to her cell so that it could all be repeated the next day. Â
It wasnât until her mind began to break that she saw the first signs of sympathy on his face. Â
There were no wounds to stitch together, no blood that was spilt. She was dumped onto his table a trembling shell of a person with his back facing him. There was no more life to her eyes, no more music, nothing but the darkness of what was left of the Fade. âWhat do you cling to?â He asked once the door closed. It was the first time they had spoken in weeks. He had no more words to say when he let her know what he thought of her knowledge, but she never said a word. She didnât have the energy to. Â
âAre they gone?â She asked, her voice a thousand miles away, trapped within the shard of light that was left in her mind. Â
He nodded solemnly, his hands lightly touching to see if they had hurt her anywhere. She could feel that his aura grew weaker by the day and the red lyrium even corrupted his touch then. âThey have turned the corner. We only have minutes before they return.â He whispered, his voice low. Â
âI cling to knowing it could be worse. For everyone left.â The words tore at the cracks in her dry lips and she tasted blood. It was such a familiar taste to her she barely noticed. Still, he passed his hand over her face and healed that, as simple of a cut that it was. Â
âI do not believe that to be possible.â He chided at her as his dwindling magic tingled over her lips. It was the closest thing she had to comfort those days. She reached forward and stopped his hand with hers. His gasp would have once brought her joy, but she was numb to the sound. Â
âIf you can trust me at all. . . trust me that it can be worse.â
They waited two weeks before bringing her to him again with actual wounds to heal. Each visit, they tried to speak more and more. From what she could gather, there were still a few of the Inner Party alive. She knew this because that time they had changed their routine with a mixture of the two. They had made her watch Lelianaâs own process and for the first time she almost said something, but a very stern look from the former Spymaster gave her a bit of strength to keep her silence. So, there she lay, bleeding and cold, on the all-too familiar healing table. Â
âThere will almost be nothing left if you continue - â Â
The predictable sound of a strike broke through the room and her eyes widened, hand clutching the table as fresh anger surged strength through her body.
 âDo your job, or youâll join her next time.â Â
They were left with their silence, but she groaned and pushed herself to a sitting position, ignoring the stretching of her back that brought even more bleeding. They had sliced his cheek open with the punch and even his blood now looked to glow with the corruption of the red lyrium. It pained her to see it, so she gestured for him to come closer. He looked to her with confusion, taking a step forward for her to do something she hadnât tried in a long time. Â
The magic was hidden within her, rolled up into a ball and placed underneath all of the pain, all of the non-stop suffering. The Templars knew how to contain such magic, but she had a glimmer left and she promised herself she would wait for an opportunity to end her own pain. She knew then that they would never allow that. They watched her sleep, the only time she had alone was when she was with him. If she died during her supposed healing, they would kill him in a moment. Â
Too precious of a resource.
So, she unwrapped that gift, unrolled it until the magic tingled underneath her fingers and onto his cheek. He stilled under her touch, but did nothing but relax as what little healing magic she knew lightened the bruise and erased the small cut formed from an outlandish champion of Dumat. Somehow, she felt even more exhausted when he looked up but for the first time she felt a glimmer of happiness. Â
âThat was unnecessary.â Â
Athena cracked a broken smile. âSo is healing a dead woman, but you continue to do it anyways.â
She didnât break, proudly, for almost nine months. Â
The healing sessions became her reprieve, the few moments of her day where she didnât have to worry about pain. That, in time, began to be used against her. There was a day where she was just hung from her chains, all day, with nothing but silence as her companion. It would have been alright, if not for the burning in her wrists. Â
That was until the first stifled scream. Â
It was deeper than usual, but somehow familiar. It was the same sound of struggle she had heard on the battlefield when he tried to cast a spell, or when he was hit by an enemy. He was never one to fully cry out, he was too restrained. Â
Immediately she jerked against her chains, knowing exactly why they had started. Â
âStop it! Leave him alone!â Â
Her voice was hoarse but she still cried out, her arms yanking the chains back and forth until they made a sound. The groans from the other room stopped. There were armored footsteps and then the door opened, the sparking eyes of a Red Templars piercing through. Â
âThat was quicker than we thought. Dumat â a fucking knife-ear? Itâll be over if you give us something, Fade-Walker. The Elder One is not a patient man.â Â
She jerked against the chains, ignoring the way the metal pressed into her skin. âLike what? He already has half the world and an army of demons at his back.â
  There was another strike and a followed hiss of pain, the Templar not even breaking eye contact with her. She jerked against the chains and felt hot tears sting her eyes. It had been so long, she had forgotten what the feeling was like to cry. âThereâs a Temple. . . â Another strike. âA fucking Temple near the Emerald Graves â now would you please just stop?â
The Templar leaned over and raised his hands then the sounds stopped. âTell me more.â
Athena shook her head, feeling a small bout of rebellion. âNot until tomorrow.â
 âThat will cost you.â Â
She waited a beat, shaking her head before meeting the soldierâs eyes. âSo be it.â
That day had been the worst. But every strike was worth it, knowing she was saving someone else from getting the same. Plus, at the end of it all, they laid her worn body, slicked with blood, on his table. He, moving a bit more stiffly than before, still walked over to the table and began his duties the moment the door shut. Â
âYou did not have - â Â
âSolas.â Â
The tone of her voice was so definite, he didnât say another word. She waited until halfway before twisting a piece of her hair, what was left of it, unsure of what to ask. âI need to ask you something.â
He made a small sound of acknowledgement as his magic worked into her back and her legs. Her voice dropped to as low as possible, as she gripped her upper arms and asked: âWhat happened to Felassan after you killed him in the Fade?â
The magic flickered in his hands but he did not stop. She heard him move and looked over her shoulder to see him looking to the door. When there were no footsteps, he looked back to her with a sigh. âIt seems pointless to refute it now. When a personâs spirit ceases to exist in the Fade, their bodies loses that connection.â He gasped softly and looked over his shoulder before cursing under his breath. âBut with the Breach and your physical weakness you will simply- â Â
âDie.â The word felt like a relief in itself. They both sighed and she shuddered underneath the coolness of the table. âCan you do it?â
The magic completely stopped and she rolled over, onto barely healed scars, and met his gaze. He crossed his arms over his chest, took in a deep breath, and nodded. âWhat more could you be protecting?â Â
âI will tell you. . . in the Fade â or whatever could be left of it.â He made a noise of frustration before the sound of footsteps interrupted it. Â
âYou need to focus past the red lyrium â it is difficult, but it is there. You have shown me your dreams before so it will be easier but we wonât have much time and it may not work.â The door opened and he stepped back to allow them to carry her back to her room. She was able to catch a glance at his eyes before the door slammed quickly behind them. Â
Solas had been right, the red lyrium was like a swarm of angry insects buzzing around in her head. But past that, she saw green. It was fragmented, and hurt, but there were some remnants of the Fade there. Spirits were being torn through Rifts and it was difficult to raise a barrier to keep demons out, but within seconds he was there. He ran towards her, each step appearing as a flicker in time but eventually he came to her and she couldnât help but wrap her arms around him.
 âYou.â She finally answered, feeling hot tears of miasmic energy falling down her face from the strain of staying in the Fade. Â
âWhat - â He started to ask, his hands hesitating before holding her to him as if she were about to slip through. Â
âYou, Mythal, the eluvians, the fact that the Herald is coming any day now and this will all be a terrible nightmare â he cannot know this. I donât know how much longer I can last and I do not want to be a liability for the Inquisition. I cannot let others die in vain.â His embrace grew tighter and he turned his head into the crook of her neck, his grip shaky as he nodded and whispered a mumbled apology into her neck. Â
âIr abelas, vhenan.â
She didnât know where the blade had come from â if it was a figment of the Fade or a shard of red lyrium from nearby â but in his embrace she felt the warm sting of relief. It pierced her and emitted a terrible light into the Fade, waves of power coming from her body as the energy of her spirit dissipated into the Fade, a final whisper of gratitude drifting with her essence across the Veil. Â
I'm sorry you're in a funk, love. *big hugs* Prompt for you! Athena, Leafy, and Kain go around Skyhold on a calm day and somehow, shenanigans ensue, preferably involving Cullen.
I blame you. Warning: I kind of got carried away listening to ABBA and this ended up silly.Â
They all were gathered in the War Room, save for the Commander. Â
The Spymaster paced on the opposite side of the table with her hands clasped behind her back, a wicked spark of mischief on her face. âAre you sure you are up for this? It could very well be the most difficult mission of your lives.â
Athena and Leafy looked to one another and nodded, crossing their arms over their chest in unison. The matron of the pair arched a brow and looked down to the war table. There werenât any new markers on the board and they hadnât shifted since the morning meeting. What could have changed? âWhenever youâre ready, Lady Leliana.â
âWe have an important visitor coming in today, but it is important that we keep her from the Commander at all costs. At least not until the dinner at sunset that will be in tavern. Sheâs a surprise â and doesnât want anyone spoiling it.â The former bard continued on, rearranging some of Cullenâs pieces in an obvious attempt to mess with him in the future. The Commander loved having his ducks in a row, and that especially included his pieces for the War Table, which had been used less and less since Corypheusâs defeat almost a year prior.
It was Leafyâs turn to talk. She put one hand on the table and leaned forward, expression suddenly turned into one of annoyance. âWho is this âimportant visitorâ? If theyâre so fancy, why are they getting a dinner at the tavern? Wouldnât Ambassador Montilyet be putting something better together?â Â
Leliana, as if preparing for a dramatic reveal, turned towards the table and met the young elfâs eyes by slamming both of her hands on the table. Leafy didnât flinch one bit. âBecause the guest is the Commanderâs sister - â Â
âMia?!â Athena nearly screeched, eyes widening in happiness and shock. Â
âNone other. She wants to surprise him for his name day â since he never takes a moment to breathe for himself. It is your job to keep him distracted and out of the tavern and main courtyard today. Athena, can the Inquisitor keep Kain today so you can keep track of their movements? It will give you some warning to when you are close to colliding.â She knew she was right. The connection between her and her wolf reminded her of a familiar like she used to read about in books or watch on shows. She knew that right now he was sleeping in a pile of the Commanderâs clothes that he made a bed of most nights. Â
âThat will work. How long do we have before she gets here?â Leliana looked outside to determine the sunâs height before pressing her lips together.
âNot long â sheâs due to arrive at midday. I would be off. Heâs probably on the training grounds or in his office.â Athena grabbed her daughterâs hand and took off through the Keep. Things had been just as busy since the fall of the Tevinter Magister, but in a different way. There were more nobility visits, but the troops were sent off on different peace-keeping missions. Not a day went by that Skyhold wasnât bustling as it always had been. Â
Cullen ended up being in his office surrounded by a pile of papers. He was sitting with one head in one hand and the other writing feverishly on a piece of parchment. Athena didnât even bother to knock; he knew better than to expect her to. The first time she burst in he had just thrown a lyrium vial at the door and it sliced her foot open. He looked up with a glance and raised fingers in greeting before drumming them against his head. âMorning.â
Leafy had a child-like grin on her face and strode over, instantly jumping on his desk to sit on its edge. âGâmorning, Commander!â Â
Cullen blinked twice before looking up to the rebellious teenâs mother. Athena merely laughed, coming to kiss her on the top of the head. âAthena. Levâadin. To what do I owe the pleasure?â
Leafy opened her mouth to speak but Athena nudged her in the arm to shut her up, leaning on her daughterâs shoulder before looking down to the parchment that Cullen was writing on. They were updates on the Keep and different mission reports written by his lieutenants. âWe are here to save you from a day of what looks to be incredibly boring paperwork. What do you say? Lunch over a game of chess?â Â
He rubbed the back of his neck and sat back in his chair, looking over the two women with an assessing gaze. âWhy do I have the suspicion that ânoâ is not an answer I can give?â Â
Athena gave him a playful wink. âBecause youâre learning, Commander. Come on, we donât want to waste any time.â Â
She reached forward to grab him by his overcoat but he pushed back in large, wooden chair until he was out of reach. âAllow me to at least finish this missive â it wonât take long. Kainâs been whining for attention anyway.â Â
Leafy looked to the black wolf who was pathetically wagging his tail while glancing up from his laying position on Cullenâs old clothes. He emitted a soft whine as the young elf narrowed her gaze at him. âHe needs to hunt.â She walked over and sat down so that the wolf could rest his head in her lap. The wagging of his tail accelerated as she found his favorite spots behind his ears and underneath his chin. Â
By the time they got to their third game of chess, Kain was dutifully with the Inquisitor and the group was exploring the battlements since the Commander was absent from his usual post. Athena positioned him just right so he wouldnât be able to see the walls of the Keep at all. Plus, he was just a competitive warrior his entire attention was on the board. During the course of the Inquisition, he, Dorian, Solas, and Bull would play her in chess. On Earth, she had maybe played once or twice a year, but now she was fluent in three different styles. Qunari was the most difficult but it was rigidly straight forward. Â
Leafy was napping on the stone bench next to them under the gazebo, her toe tapping in the air to an imaginary beat. Cullen made a hum of decision-making before moving his piece forward, taking one of her pawns. âHow have things been, Athena?â
She moved her bishop to take the piece he had just moved nonchalantly, swapping them out with a quick gesture. âGreat, actually. My people are getting settled in the Emerald Graves and Iâm due for a trip to visit them. Supposedly the bears are getting restless with a dragon so close nearby.â Â
He huffed a chuckle under his breath. âAre you going to slay this one as well?â Â
She smiled, feeling a light ache in her dragonâs scar across her belly. âI donât plan on it. Can you shoo away a dragon?â Â
Cullen couldnât help but laugh at her, moving his last piece into position. âNot likely but I would love to see you try. Checkmate.â Â
Athena frowned before leaning back in her chair, checking in with Kain through their connection. I smell flowers! The wolf remarked with excitement, leading her to think they were coming to the part of the battlements that dropped down to the halls beside where they were sitting. She stood from the chair with a faux-expression of boredom. âAll this defeat makes me crave wine, how about a glass, Cullen? Not you, Levâadin. One glass will have you falling from my tower.â She shut down the teenager before she could even ask. Â
âI have enjoyed playing, but I should really get back to work, Athena.â He pled, standing with her while glancing around. She needed to keep his attention on her and Leafy so she wrapped her arm around his shoulder and led him towards the main hall. Â
âFirst - wine. Iâll help you with some of your letters and bring some of my own.â They breached the great hall and she pushed him towards the cellars. âGo pick your favorite and meet me back here.â Â
He looked to her with a miffed expression before succumbing to her demands, rolling his eyes with a half-smile. As he left ear-shot she leaned down to Leafy and whispered, âRemember that wind swirl spell I taught you?â Â
The young mage nodded enthusiastically with a wicked grin spreading on her lips. âGo cast it and fade-step back here like nothing happened. Open the window but then close the door on your way back.â She saluted to her mother and took off like a bullet towards Cullenâs office. He returned a few minutes later with a basket of sorts. Â
âI think I got everything, shall we go?â Athena nodded and took the basket from him, smiling while panicking on the inside that Leafy wouldnât be back in time. But thankfully she appeared from a side-door like nothing was wrong even though her hair was slightly frizzier than before she left. The Commander didnât seem to notice and they continued talking until they reached his office. He pushed open the door for them but then his jaw dropped at the utter destruction that was now his office. The papers were blown everywhere and the pile that was Kainâs bed was hanging from the ladder up to his loft. Â
It was like a literal tornado had torn through his office, and Athena couldnât have been prouder. Â
There wasnât a single piece of paper that was in place. The look of shock on Cullenâs face was priceless. Athena instantly gasped, putting her hand on his shoulder while looking around in feigned terror. âWhat happened? How could this of - âShe then looked to the side. âOh, Cullen, the window is open. You know how this season brings strong winds up into the mountain.â
âStrong winds? This was -!â He lost the words and put his hand to his forehead instead, taking in a deep controlled breath before letting it out in a sigh. âLetâs get to work then. The missives were dated so those should be easier to organize. The restâŚwill have to be done later.â Â
Hours. It took hours to put the office back together again and the entire time Leafy and Athena would exchange secret, knowing glances. Cullen almost enjoyed reorganizing his office, the detail maniac that he was. Things were tidier by the time they were done and the sun was beginning to set. The Commander finally sat down in his chair and looked at his desk with an expression that she could only describe as pride. It was something she understood, the feeling of a job well done. Â
Athena felt a sharp jolt in the back of her head and she knew it was Kain. She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed, closing her eyes to that she could see through the eyes of her wolf. Rathein and Mia were bending over her companion with smiles, scratching behind his ears while going, âCan she hear us boy?â Kain nodded and gave a small yelp. âOh good! Hey Athena, weâre in the tavern now but weâre setting up. Just donât let him come here but get him riled up okay?â Â
A rambunctious blonde woman leaned in, her curls coming over her shoulders as she smiled. âSisterâs orders!â
Kain then returned to receiving his affections and Athena faded back into her own consciousness. She didnât know it but Cullen had stood up and walked over to her and put his hands on her shoulders, looking her up and down. âAthena, are you alright?â Â
âHeadache.â She lied, giving him a smile before shrugging underneath his touch. Leafy cleared her throat to the side, tapping her foot impatiently. Just as she was about to speak the door burst open to the side, Kain running in at a full sprint. He ran circles around the Commander and Leafy then pushed himself in front of Athena before bending down into a play bow, his tail furiously wagging. This would have been typical behavior for him just before dinner time, save for the fact that he was wearing Cullenâs helm. âI think we found the source of your tornado, Commander.â Athena teased while silently praising her companion. Â
âAndraste help me â Kain, get back here!â Â
The chase began. Â
Levâadin had been right, Kain was in desperate need of a hunt. Skyhold, for as large as it was, could be a prison for a natural born hunter. They raced down the battlements and through the courtyard, Leafy and Athena laughing the whole time. It was also the first she had really seen Cullen sprint in nearly full armor. At one point she thought he was enjoying the chase but then she caught a glance at his expression. It was pure competition at that point. Â
Athena gestured for Leafy to go ahead to the tavern and lead Kain there. They had played long enough. Kain made a sharp turn down the stairs out of sight towards the meeting place for the evening. Leafy was hot on his tail and they were all en route to get there in seconds. The door to the tavern opened and Rathein stuck her head out, mouthing âone more minuteâ while allowing Kain and Leafy to enter before slamming the door shut just as Athena and Cullen came close. Â
She cursed under her breath and rubbed the back of her neck, thinking of a way to buy time before pointing to the side of the building. âI think he ran this way. He loves smelling what the kitchen is cooking.â Â
âI really think he came into the tavern â did you not hear that door slam?â Cullen asked between winded breaths. They both looked ragged and worn down but she wasnât going to give up so easily. Â
âHey - shapeshifter magic, remember? Come on this way. Heâs probably lost energy like us and needs a place to sleep.â They went to the side and she led the âsearchâ in all of the nooks and crannies She heard a loud groan behind him and turned just in time to see him throw his hands in the air. Â
âWhat are you playing at?â Shit. âEver since this morning, you and your daughter have just been odd. It was fun but Iâve lost an entire day of work and -â He itched the back of his head and allowed his hand to drop, trying to reign in the frustration on his face. âIâm going to cool myself down with a meal and return to my duties. Youâre free to join, but no more nonsense.â
Not enough time. She panicked, which was silly considering the topic, but her body thought quicker than her mind. Soon she was gripping his shoulder and turning him to face her, his back nearly against the side of the tavern. âWhat?â He asked curtly even with some of the frustration falling from his voice. Â
She could only think of one thing that would pause him, or at least silence him for enough time. She bit her bottom lip before collecting her bravery, gripping him by the overcoat and pulling him towards her. He didnât fight it, but as she pressed her lips against his she heard him gasp. It wasnât entirely unexpected between them, but she had hoped for a better moment. It took a second, but he sighed, relaxed, and cupped her face between his hands and fully accepted the kiss.  His entire presence shouted warm. It enveloped her and replaced the butterflies that represented panic with affection. His war-worn hands brushed over her skin and sent a shudder down her spine. She moved until his back was pressed against the tavern behind him and they broke apart at the sound of the door opening. âKain! Where did you get this?â Ratheinâs voice called out in amusement. âWe need to return this to the Commander.â Cullen chuckled under his breath, eyes completely fixed on her mouth as he ran his thumb over her bottom lip. âI suppose we should make her search shorter. Can we talk about this later?â Athena could only manage a nod while pushing him towards the tavern door playfully. He looked over his shoulder back at her with a boyish smile on his lips, rubbing the back of his neck as he greeted the Rathein. âI see you have captured the thief, Inquisitor.â  âOh yes he is inside, can you help me pry your helm off of him?â She asked, opening the door as Athena rounded the corner to usher them both inside. The moment he cleared the door there was a loud, resounding scream. âSurprise!â  âMaker help me - â He cursed at the group of people, his eyes narrowing in on his sister. Athena saw him stiffen, he had admitted to being almost distant with his family since joining the Templars. But that rigidness faded away once Mia brought him in for a tight hug. Once she was done with him she moved to Athena, wrapping her arms around her and nearly lifting her from the ground.  âThank you, Athena! I knew you could do it!â  Once she was firmly back on the ground she laughed, fighting the blush on her face and chest. Mia spun and went to grab food with the Inquisitor as Cullen walked over to her, a single brow raised as he crossed his arms over his chest. âI shouldâve known my sister was involved. Only she can bring such chaos to a place. That wasnât - er â idea was it?â He asked with his voice growing soft, eyes dropping to the ground between them before shyly meeting her gaze.  Athena shook her head with a genuine smile, putting a hand on his shoulder to turn him towards the group. âSilly Lion, of course not.âÂ
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I was tagged by the wonderful @ladynorbert, @roguelioness, and @solverne-02
This is from my main fic Tales of the Fadewalker.Â
âIt felt like it been eons since she first fell, and that morning, she desired to taste the sky instead of whatever breakfast was downstairs.â
I tag @morgalahan, @ithun, @thevikingwoman, and @buttsonthebeach plus whoever else wishes to participate. :)Â
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An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapter 217 of Tales of the Fadewalker has been posted!Â
Man I really have to get better about posting my writing stuff on here.
"Being you now. Are you blissfully unaware, or is some part of the old you banging on the walls, screaming?"
(Talesfromthefade) Maybe something about Rathein choosing to become/first beginning her training as a Knight Enchanter for tonight's DWC?
[This is a very late reply, but I was struck by a snippet of inspiration in the car ride on the way home. For @dadrunkwriting]
The Inquisitor sat with three objects in front of her.
 They were supposed to help her choose, help her narrow downher choices to specializations that the advisors and her Inner Party had chosenfor her to go into. Rathein had never considered going into something past whatshe had learned. Her chaotic storm magic had gotten her out of more troublesthan anything else, adding an additional skillset just for the sake of doingseemed pointless to her when she could simply hone her strength and sharpen herskills in the ways of the storm.
 There was the skull: necromancy.
 The spirit blade: knight enchanter.
 Then the Fade Tome: rift mage.
The items felt like they all giant pairs of eyes that werestaring at her with judgmental intent. She sat on the chaise lounge of the rotundawith her feet crossed and back pressed firmly against the wall so that the itemscould fit in front of her. She poked the skull with the tip of her toe and thenimmediately scrambled when it began to teeter from the edge. She unfolded immediatelyand fell forward to catch it when a much more graceful person captured itbefore lifting it into the air.
 âStrange. I did not assume you were the type to go fornecromancy.â
 The Inquisitor twisted her mouth to the side and snatchedskull back from Solas.
 âIâm not. But the Persistent Three wish for me to pick aspecialty and nothing is exactly calling to me. It was never something Ithought of.â
 Solas arched a brow and motioned to the Tome. âYou have nointerest in Rift Magic? It is a fascinating field of study, you know that Ihave committed myself to the discipline.â He then smirked at her instant lookof disapproval at the tome, much like a child refusing her vegetables.
 Both of their gazes fell onto the spiritual blade. Therewasnât any disgust or refusal, merely interest as she gingerly picked up theblade and judged its weight between her hands. It felt light as air. There wasnâtany blade to weigh her down so she practiced a swing to the side. Solas clickedhis tongue against the back of his teeth.
 âAh. The role of the Knight Enchanter. That is a disciplinethat dates back to the time of Ancient Elves.â As everything tends to. She thought to herself, but she smiled andlooked up to him, silently asking for more as her magic probed and prodded atthe object in her hands. âThe highest ranked of the nobles and gods masteredthis discipline to protect them and fight for their honor. Before the end ofArlathan, spirits and elves were more in sync and it was simpler to draw ontheir energies to craft a blade of pure energy. The Arcane Warriors, those werethe named Knight Enchanters of that time, were disastrously dangerous foes onthe battlefield and used their strengths to rally their troops.â There was a gleamof admiration in her friendâs eyes, perhaps a nostalgia from what he had seenin the Fade?
 âA blade, huh? Bull is always getting onto me about runningheadfirst into battle as a mage, perhaps this would give me a reason toactually be there.â She held the spirit hilt more confidently as she imagined ablade of pure sparkling energy bursting forth from it. The object began tonearly vibrate in her hand from the potential until his voice distracted her.
 âI am sure he is always getting onto you about other things,Inquisitor.â There was a familiar playfulness in his voice, one that rarelycame out but made her laugh nonetheless. The first time he suggested that sheneeded to be tied down while describing Fade rifts she blushed, but thefragments of sarcasm were part of the reason why she had grown to respect himas a confidant and friend.
 She moved to respond with something just as witty but he gesturedto the hilt. âIt appears you have your answer, Rathein. You have not put thatdown since we began discussing the matter.â
 Rathein moved hands again, nodding with a soft smile on herface. âI suppose we have. Thank you, Solas. I do not know what I would dowithout your wisdom sometimes.â There was a teasing inflection to her tone, butthe two of them knew that she was genuine. He bowed with his head slightly inrespect and recognition, his lips then curling into a mischievous smirk beforehe gestured with his hand to the top of the stairs.
 âUnfortunately it is not my wisdom that will help you withthis path. Madame de Fer is our resident Knight Enchanter. Perhaps she canguide you better than I.â Both of their gazes traveled up the stairs and beyondthe walls to her heavily decorated loft. She could already hear the curt, icycritiques of her technique and the outfit she had happened to choose that day.Rathein winced, rubbing the back of her neck with a laugh.
 âWell. Maybe I can start with a book about it first.â