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spainkitty · 2 months

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WIP Wednesday

(It got a little long, but I didn't want to end the scene any earlier than that because Lanil is hilarious when she's fangirling)

Excerpt from Part 2 Chapter ?

The new (as yet unnamed) elf frowned at Cullen, but tipped his head in acknowledgment. Lanil had been glancing between the two men, growing more and more fascinated as they spoke, visibly startling when the actual name had been said out loud and confirming her suspicions. She knew Varric had known Cullen in Kirkwall. She’d heard his irreverent teasing and his constant in-jokes and asides. But… was Cullen on friendly terms with the Champion!? And who the Maker’s name was this elf who dropped her name in conversation so easily?

Cullen spoke again as Lanil tried not to gape too obviously. “What happened at Redcliffe was a mistake. A huge mistake. We should’ve…” he cut himself off briefly before trying again. “We should be a place of refuge for any mage that requests our help. It’s what Adaar herself is trying to do now.”

The elf narrowed his eyes at Cullen. Although his face was carefully blank, and the distracting glow of his tattoos concealed even more, Lanil had the distinct impression he was reading Cullen like a book and wasn't sure he trusted the cover. He abruptly turned to Lanil. Looked her up and down with that same pensive scrutiny.

“You’re a Circle mage.”

She was currently wearing her lieutenant uniform, but she was also carrying a borrowed staff on her back—it wasn’t that large a leap to think an unmarked elf with a staff was a Circle mage. Lanil lifted an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Were you in the Rebellion?” the elf asked, his bright green gaze altogether too piercing.

“Grand Enchanter Fiona is…” Her voice stuttered as her throat squeezed tight. Lanil scowled into the middle distance, arms tightening over her chest, and forced herself to speak again. Bland. Emotionless. No emphasis to allow room for pity... or grief. “She was my mentor for years. I’m only alive today because she sent me to beg the Herald for aid.”

“Do you feel safe here?”

Lanil stared at this strange elf with his too-intense gaze and clawed gauntlets and brightly unnatural tattoos. Her coolly detached facade broke slightly. Did she feel safe from yet another Haven happening? In a way, yes. The walls of Skyhold were ancient and strong. There was magic seeped into the foundation of the place that Solas personally vouched for. If she trusted anyone’s sense for magic other than herself, it was Solas. Corypheus’ fake archdemon was a problem, but she couldn’t help but trust Skyhold.

But did she truly trust the Inquisition? Did she trust the former templars that still watched her too closely when she passed by the training yard? She might wear the uniform, but...

“No, I don’t,” Lanil said. It took effort she hoped didn’t show to shrug casually. “But I haven’t felt safe since I was eighteen years old.”

At the corner of her eye, she saw Cullen turn towards her. Although he refrained from interrupting them.

“Perhaps you should speak with Hawke,” the elf said in a quiet rumble, more to himself than to Lanil.

“You keep mentioning her. Is she coming here to Skyhold? Do you know her? Do you know her?” Lanil finally asked, bewildered, glaring at Cullen, whom balked slightly at her expression. The elf, however, smirked.

“You could say that.”

“Lieutenant Surana, this is serah Fenris. Serah Hawke is up on the battlements meeting with the Inquisitor,” Cullen explained as politely as possible while sounding a little exasperated.

“What!?” Lanil gawked at Fenris. The Fenris. “Varric didn’t say you were coming! Is Anders here, too?”

“Of course not,” Cullen answered. Lanil scowled at him. “He’s one of the most wanted fugitives in Thedas. Do you really think he’d come here?”

“He might have, if he’s with Hawke,” Lanil protested, but her ears felt too hot.

She quickly turned away from Cullen, catching sight of an obviously amused smirk on Fenris's face—the Fenris, for Andraste's sake. One of Hawke's closest confidantes and probably lover, according to Varric's book. Varric had always been too real, too grounded, his place in his own novel more narration than character, and she'd met him as himself before she'd ever picked up the book. But Hawke was immense by reputation alone, and Varric had colored her and their mutual friends with so much care that Fenris was nearly as unreal and heroic as Hawke in Lanil's mind. But he was the only one who might know, who might have seen—

“Is he safe? Is Anders safe?” She half-stepped, half-lunged toward Fenris before quickly getting ahold of herself. Holding herself upright and tightly wound, hands in fists behind her back.

Fenris looked her up and down again, this time more curiously than critically. “What Circle were you in? You sound Ferelden.”

“I’m from Kinloch Hold originally.” Which was the information he was obviously asking for.

“Of course you were,” Fenris muttered with a shake of his head. "How is it that he has ties to almost every person in Ferelden? And every one of them is connected to some position of power."

“You didn’t say if he’s safe,” Lanil snapped, frustration rising.

“He’s as safe as the most wanted fugitive in Thedas can be,” Fenris said with a dry look at Cullen. Cullen sighed and began to rifle through some papers on his desk. “Did you want to meet her?” Lanil stared at Fenris and he smirked. “Hawke. She’s always willing to meet new people. Makes friends with nearly everyone she meets, too, I don’t know how she manages it.” For just a moment, he sounded soft, but it was fleeting and heavily layered under exasperation.

“I can meet her? I can meet Hawke? Marian Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall and one of the most famous mages in Thedas? She's considered a major impetus of the whole rebellion and has been helping several Circles free themselves across the Marches and Nevarra, and you’re asking me if I want to meet her? Like she’s just… a normal person?” Lanil said incredulously, her voice actually rising in pitch until she almost squeaked. She suddenly felt about twelve years old. Not only her ears heated this time; her entire face lit up bright red under the weight of the two men’s stares. “What?”

“I’ve never seen you so excited about anything,” Cullen said, baffled. “Not since Kinloch.” His eyes widened as his face burned pink. Lanil scowled, flustered and highly relieved when he looked abruptly away.

“Yet another mage to take under her wing,” Fenris said with a sigh, but there was a hint of a smile. “Follow me, Surana. Another time, Rutherford.”

#wip wednesday #For It Is Fleeting AU #Part 2 chapter... SOMETHING no idea #FENRIS CAMEO!#look da2 has my throat in a chokehold #ofc im putting da2 characters here #because it's not my “canon” verse i pleased to announce my bluemageMarian is in a polycule #Kirkwall polycule mentions abound!!#and yes Lanil LOVES HER FUCKING BIG BROTHER AND SHE WILL BE REUNITED WITH HIM #ANDERS DID NOTHING WRONG #And Marian is Lanil's hero which is fucking hilarious #this is probably the most endearing thing about her #shes a fucking trainwreck trashfire but she gets fucking GIDDY for Hawke and Tabris #dai surana #dai fanfic #dragon age fanfiction #kitty writes a thing #i know in canon fenris is supposed to be chasing slavers but theres no way in fuck he'd let hawke go to skyhold alone #thats stupid and i refuse to accept it

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ryniadora · 11 months

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wip Wednesday things

Is v long despite being a wip so under a cut. Post Chantry-explosion drabble about my two Hawke/Amell cousins and their relationships with Anders and Fenris. Very unpolished and weirdly structured.

"I didn't ask for this".

“What, and I cannot stress this enough, the actual fuck.” Becca was shaking with rage as she approached the sullen mage, sitting on his little crate and staring at the floor. He didn’t even look at her, nor did he look at Felicity, who had fallen to her knees beside him and was staring up with wide eyes - the healer looked as stunned as Becca felt.

“Anders.”

His head lifted a fraction, his face hidden by a curtain of hair. “What do you want me to say, Becca? Just … just get it over with. I did what I had to do. If I need to die for it then so be it. I am sorry, if that means anything at this point.” “You're sorry? Is that all you have to say for yourself? You blew up the fucking Chantry, you tricked me into helping you do it and you had the absolute nerve to tell me it was to try and separate you from Justice?” Her rage was overwhelming, filling every part of her body with fire. Fenris hovered a few steps behind, hand on his sword hilt, eyes similarly burning with barely-contained fury. “It’s only me who is to blame here. You are blameless, as you always are.” a note of bitterness tinged Anders’ voice. “This had to be done, you know that.” “You didn’t have to hide it from me, Anders!” Becca snapped, reaching out a hand to touch his shoulder but pulling herself back. “We could have thought of a better way if you’d been honest with me, let me help!”

“But you wouldn’t, would you?” Anders snarled, leaping to his feet and finally looking Becca in the eye. His expression was harsh, fury and sadness mingled so tightly you couldn’t possibly separate them. Like him and Justice, came the unbidden thought. “If it came right down to it you would let him influence you, tell you all mages are just abominations waiting to happen. You’d have tried to stop me, I know you would, and I couldn’t risk it. You always choose him.” Becca recoiled from his venom, her eyebrows pulling together in confusion. Anders was shaking, his fists clenched at his sides, his breath ragged. Felicity scrambled to her feet and stood, hands trembling, slightly in front of the enraged man as if to try and shelter him from the angry faces ranged before them. Becca almost felt sorry for Felicity - everyone knew she was head over heels obsessed with Anders apart from Anders himself. She was the only person present who would defend him for what he had just done.

The agony in Felicity’s dark eyes echoed her own, like a ribbon of pain winding around the two women as they both stood in front of the man they loved, a twisted standoff. Becca felt Fenris take a step closer to her, and could hear him murmuring a mantra under his breath to keep calm. “That isn’t-” she began, but Anders cut her off. “It is. It’s all it’s ever been, Becca. I love you.” Felicity’s eyes screwed shut just as Becca’s did for a moment, the ribbon drawing taut around her heart. Those three simple words felt like heavy blows. “It’s been so hard to watch you, knowing that he has you and I never will. Knowing that you could never commit fully to helping the mages because of his poison in your ear. So long as he stands behind, you would never have agreed to help free us from Meredith's tyranny and you know it.”

“She wouldn’t, because blowing up a building to incite a war is literal insanity!” Fenris growled, putting a hand protectively on Becca’s shoulder. She felt frozen now, the fire in her veins replaced with ice as she stared wordlessly back into Anders’ eyes. It was all true. Everything Fenris had ever warned her about had come to pass and the pain of it stabbed into her as keenly as a blade. The hated tears welled to the surface as she searched the mage’s face for any hint that this was a lie, that in a moment she would wake up and be back in the manor, Chantry un-exploded. She found no consolation. “There it is. I told you I’d break your heart, Becca.” Anders said simply, his voice shaking. “I may host Justice, but I am just a man at the end of it all. A lonely, jealous man, in love with a beautiful woman he can never have. One he lost to a beast, one who could never understand why drastic action is needed."

It was Becca’s turn to stare at the floor. She heard Merrill’s shocked gasp behind her, and could imagine the looks on each of her companions’ faces as clear as day. Isabela, smugly knowing. Varric, concerned. Aveline, stern. Sebastian in a blinding fury. She could hear Felicity sobbing, a desperate wail made worse by the fact that she was clearly trying to hold it back. It was a bad day to be a member of their family. Becca wavered for a brief moment at the haunting sound, love for her one remaining family member threatening to overturn her resolve. But only for a second.

“So, Becca? What’s the verdict for the terrible mage rebel?” Anders spat. Fenris moved before Becca could stop him, and she let out a strangled denial that was echoed by Felicity’s shriek of “No!” as the elf easily swatted her aside and lifted Anders like he was a rag doll, a hand clasped firmly around his throat. The lyrium tattoos were glowing, visible even through the gloves he wore. “Fen, no!” Becca reached out a hand to the two men, fighting her way past the overwhelming swirl of emotions in her mind to reach that calm, cool exterior she was known for. The fury wouldn’t leave her, it was threatening to drown everything but she couldn’t bear to let Fenris do something drastic on her behalf. Her rage turned to shock as suddenly Felicity’s hand appeared beside Fenris’ face, burning with a flame that had to be hurting the woman.

“Put him down, Fenris.” Felicity growled, “I swear to the Maker, if you hurt him I’ll make you regret being gentle with me.” “You’re bluffing, Felix.” Fenris said simply, not moving. “And you were never any good at it. Stop grandstanding before you burn your own hand off.” “Fliss,” Anders gasped, clutching desperately at the hands around his throat. “Do you really want to bet I won’t? Last warning, Fenris. Put. Him. Down.” The elf slowly lowered Anders to the ground, holding him firmly by the neck as he turned to look at his beloved. Felicity did not move, tears streaming down her ravaged face as she bored holes in the back of Fenris’ head.

“You might want to put a better leash on your dog, Becca.” Anders was sarcastic even in defeat, even lost in vengeance. For some reason that made things worse - at the end of it all, he was still her best friend, the man who swapped jokes with her, who played all the same card games, who was always her partner for pub trivia night. That same man had betrayed her, betrayed them all for his twisted Justice. “One could say the same for you.” Fenris snapped, and he actually winced as the ball of fire next to his head flared in response to his words. "Is this what you choose, Felix?" Becca looked to her cousin, "You choose him?" "I don't have a choice, not after what I did." Felicity growled the words, but she was still openly weeping. "Not since you snatched away my one chance at happiness."

"This is your decision, Bex. You have but to say the word.” Fenris said simply, the glow subsiding but the furrow of his eyebrows betraying his real feelings at the pair of mages behind him. Becca heaved a sigh, and shook her head heavily. “Let them go, Fen. This won’t solve anything." Anders clutched at his throat as he staggered back into Felicity’s arms, watching with burning eyes as Fenris returned to Becca’s side. “See? You always choose him. You always will. It’s very sweet how loyal you are. But stupid, after everything he did to you.'' The words were like the needles Anders was intending them to be, sharp pin pricks on her mind.

"Mark my words, abomination. If you come near Becca again I will rip your heart out." Fenris snarled as Anders turned his back, Felicity’s hand on his arm as she whispered fervently in his ear. “Go.” Becca choked the word through a throat full of emotions. “Becca don’t, please, don’t send us away.” Felicity’s head shot up and she locked eyes with her cousin. Her words were desperate pleas. “Don’t. Please.” “Don’t try to change my mind, Felix. I cannot forgive this, and you know it.” The words were so heavy, so hard to say. But her mind was made up.

Felicity outstretched her hand, beseeching her cousin for mercy, and Becca could see the blisters from holding that fireball forming red and shiny on her delicate fingers. The pain on Felicity’s face made Becca’s heart ache, but the rage, the indignation would not allow her to give in. What had happened was wrong, beyond redemption or forgiveness, and that Felicity condoned it was proof that they had reached a point of no return. The ribbon connecting them was severed now, tattered ends billowing in the wind.

“Becca, I'm begging you. Please. You've already taken everything else from me, please. Let us stay. There will be so many people who need our help." “Don’t bother, you know how stubborn she is.” The words were quiet accusations. Anders was still turned away, but he had taken Felicity gently by the hand; she looked at him with an expression that defied simple definition. Shock, love, anger, sadness, guilt, all wrapped up together. “You should go with her, Fliss. Being on the run is no life for a talented woman like you.” “No, I decided to help you so if you're guilty then I am too. I won’t leave you to face this alone.”

“You can’t have it both ways, Felix.” Isabela piped up, the first interruption from the rest of the group since the explosion. “Then I won’t. Bex, if you send Anders away then you're beyond my help. I can’t watch you do this, not when you told me you cared about mages like me. You can’t claim to care and then stand by and watch as we are murdered!” The two women stared at each other for a few moments that stretched into eternity, two pillars of indignant rage, the proverbial rock and hard place.

“I won’t repeat myself. Get out, both of you, before I change my mind."

The betrayal was really sinking in now, festering inside Becca like an infected wound. She felt Fenris’ hand twine around hers, which helped a little bit as she watched Anders walk away without another word, almost dragging Felicity along with him as she wept like a child. Damn his eyes, he was right. Her heart was broken, split in half by the betrayal of someone she had trusted implicitly. She had denied his obsession with her for too long, and it was coming back to bite her just as Fenris had warned her.

He’d taken her last remaining family with him. She might not have seen eye to eye with Felicity most of the time, but they were still family and her choosing Anders over her own blood stung almost as keenly. “Come, vhenan, we must move. The fight will not wait for us. You can mourn later.” Fenris leant his forehead against hers briefly, a display of affection that normally they would not do in public but one that Becca sorely needed. She managed a tight smile, just for him, before her face returned to a mask of anger.

There was a city waiting for her to save it.

Again.

#wip wednesday #dragon age oc #dragon age 2 #Rebecca Hawke #Felicity Amell #it's not great tbh #but I want to post it somewhere #hawke x fenris #handers #would like to write this from Felicity's POV too #I really like their dynamic #Fliss is me tho #Becca has shitty opinions on mages #anders did nothing wrong

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