#thanflowers

The air smelled of fire and smoke. 

It had seemed that the reports were wrong. Last he’d heard, the darkspawn horde was headed to Redcliffe, and the army had gone to meet them. But now, standing just outside of Denerim, it was clear that they had come for the capital, for Andraste’s birth place, for…

For a place that he did not belong, anymore. 

He’d tried to leave. He’d gone to Amaranthine, had a drink at a tavern on the docks. He’d tried to convince himself to get on that boat. To flee to Kirkwall, like the others. The pained and pale-stricken faces that huddled towards the silhouette of every boat that appeared on the horizon, the shaking masses hoping to escape the dark and death the darkspawn dragged with them. He could have gotten on. He had coin in his pocket, more than most there. He had a sword. 

But he couldn’t do it. Even the whiskey couldn’t convince him. And it had tried. 

So he stood there, haggard as he stared with bleary eyes towards the returning army, the soldiers that would find Denerim overrun, the Fereldans who would find their capital burning. He knew that they would be there, with the bulk of the Royal forces. And they were. 

He could not look upon Loghain when he came through the trees. He retreated instead into the embrace of Wynne, who rushed to him. Leliana. Somehow even now she smelled so sweet. 

He swallowed, grit and smoke thick in his throat. 

@thanflowers liked for a DA starter!

She'd heard of Elspeth. Of course she had. How could someone not hear of the Hero of Ferelden? Putting a name to a face was new, though. Nimue hadn't know she was ever at Redcliffe until someone else pointed it out. And then she had... joined them? Why?

        ❝ oh, it’s you. ❞ it’s nothing personal; cousland seems perfectly nice, if you like wide-eyed princesses who kill you with kindness and plants, but she’s the ship’s counsellor, and la’an has objects on principle to people who want to poke around inside her head and tell her how she’s supposed to feel. that, and she’s known elspeth, at least in passing, for a long time. maybe it’s the fact that anger fuels her, that fear protects her, but la’an doesn’t understand why anyone would want to remain soft after everything. she pushes her food around her plate, and pretends to be interested in it.  ❝ most people don’t choose to sit with me. ❞