#redemptior

"This one says he's one of yours," the keys in the jailer's hand jingle over the rough in his voice, metallic and harsh. "Prince of Ferelden," he mocks.

Inara has always imagined there must be one or two of those rattling around this cold world. With the stories of how both Maric and Cailan behaved...

The chances of finding them in one of Kirkwall's cells, however?

Meredith had sneered and waved the Grey Warden away when she'd come looking for recruits, seeking mages in particular. Start with the jails, the Knight-Commander had suggested. You can have as many mages as you take prisoners.

So, she was taking all the prisoners. They'd started with those condemned to death. Now these here were petty criminals. Thieves. Peddlers. Brawlers in the pub.

When he heaves the jail cell open, however, and Inara finds herself staring down upon a very familiar face, words leave her.

"You want him?" asks the guard.

“tell me, cullen, what sorts of games do people like to play in ferelden?” the question is laced with clear amusement, but her tone is soft enough to reveal sincerity. “i saw you play chess with dorian once, so that perhaps, but what else? running about with a hoop and stick? something with mabari?”

honestly straight morrigan was a travesty

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@redemptior sent: ❝ once in a blue moon, i let my guard down for someone like you. ❞ - elaris

Merc's Meme Collection

"Yes," Nathaniel drolls, eyebrows raising as his arms cross behind his back. "Quiet as a mouse."

Unfortunately, mice are not exactly known for being the most quiet of creatures. One of the most tell-tale ways people know they have an infestation is the scratching in the walls, the quiet little squeaks when the lights go out.

Alistair had not gotten himself caught by the Warden guards patrolling, and had returned with his prize. A fountain pen from Nathaniel's desk. He'd done well enough. But they had certainly heard him, and the alarm bells rang even now.

He'd been getting a little too used to the spirit's(?) company recently. Imshael practically appeared and vanished at his own whims, but somehow Ashe found a small amount of comfort in that--weirdly enough. Even Lily was becoming accustomed to the smarmy bastard showing up out of the blue, ignoring some incident with him stealing part of her ancient teeth collection.

Of course, ignoring the initial discomfort of their meeting, Imshael had been... a somewhat decent companion to travel the forest with on occasion. A break from the lonely monotony that Ashe had grown accustomed to over the years. Occasionally, an extra voice to bounce off of. More often, a frustration that tempted him with... honestly rather bizarre choices at times.

Even as they stepped along the familiar path to the veil phenomenon Ashe had been studying for the past month, there was a strange comfort in having a companion that... while he probably wasn't watching Ashe's back, was at least present.

"...!"

The sudden sensation of touch jolted him out of his thoughts for a moment. Ashe didn't notice him move so close. Enough that Imshael's knuckles brushed against his own as they walked side by side. He always smelled distinctly of the fade and... something else Ashe couldn't place. He flexed his fingers a few times, adjusting to the unfamiliar sensation.