#anitva

[chaoticneuthrall]

“Is that Antivan gold on your face or are you just happy to see me?”

Tired of spending hours on OC fan-art but not being able to put a cute golden vallaslin on your in-game character? Then I have some good news! Currently in the works on making these along with tons of other mods. They’re still a huge W.I.P. but will hopefully be available on nexus soon.

#dragon age #dragon age mod #dao mods #da origins #elf female #anitva #antivan #vallaslin

[icy-warden]

Zevran, talking to some Ferelden nobles: ...in Antiva you'd be called -starts talking shit in Antivan with charming smile- That's the kind of compliments you deserve, believe me.

Warden, standing nearby: -almost choking on his sip of wine, because he recognizes some of the insults-

#what does Vergil do first when learning new language? #learn the insults! #would Zevran be mean enough to act like that at party full of Fereldens? #of course he would #because why not xD #Vergil is amused #silly silly idea #Vergil x Zevran #Zevran #WardenTxt

[lesetoilesfous]

"For DA Drunk Writing: "I never stood a chance, did I?" FenHawke or Handers?

Oh AMAZING prompt, thank you :D

(If you’d like me to write you a da2, da:o or da:a fic, send me a prompt!)

@dadrunkwriting

Pairing: FenHawke

Characters: Garrett Hawke, Fenris

Tags: in which I think about Zevran extensively despite him not being in this fic, AU

Rating: Mature

“I never stood a chance, did I?”

For some bizarre reason, the great hairy brute of a human who’d ambushed him with a small gang of highly trained assassins sounds almost pleased by his observation. Fenris scowls at him, and wonders why he hasn’t killed him yet. The blood of the man’s accomplices drips from his fingers, and the human in question is on his arse before him in the dusty streets of Amaranthine. It would be so easy. Judging by how the man had handled a knife - it was necessary if Fenris had any intention of living long enough to give his master the violent death he so rightly deserved.

Instead, he hesitates. In the dust, the human stares at him. He has warm brown eyes and a thick black beard. There’s a stripe of red across his nose. His arms and legs are muscular and tanned by the sun, exposed by the light leather armour he’s wearing. Blood is streaked with sweat over his limbs, and he’s clutching a blooming rose of a wound in his side. Fenris frowns at the man’s companions - all wearing simillar light leathers. “Who sent you?” 

He tries to sound authoritative. He’s not sure that he succeeds.

The man raises his eyebrows, just for a moment, apparrently caught off guard enough to relinquish any attempt to bluff. “You’ve never heard of the Crows?”

Fenris frowns at him, internally checking his own memory for any other possible meaning of the word in the Trade tongue. When he comes up empty, his frown deepens. “The birds?”

The man’s thick black eyebrows hit his hairline. “No, the Antivan Crows. You’re not from around here, are you?”

Fenris glares at him, gesturing once to the extensive and outlandish tattoos curling across his body. “What gave it away.”

The man huffs a laugh, and it’s a deep rough sound that makes his broad chest shake. “Fair point. We’re a guild of assassins from Antiva with a terrifying reputation. Though not, apparently, a very far-reaching one. There was a contract on your head. I’m the idiot who took it.”

Fenris frowns at him. The blood on his hands is cooling and coagulating now. He itches to wash them. “Why?”

“Why take the contract?” The human clarifies. There’s a thick Fereldan burr to his accent that Fenris can hear the more he talks. He wonders how he got mixed up in a guild of assassins from Anitva. Fenris nods, once, and the human shifts and winces when he does so. Fenris viciously stifles his own irrational urge to help. “The money was good. I didn’t realise the reason was that the target was a one man army.” The man’s expression grows rueful then. Fenris wonders whether he is as guileless as he seems (certainly a flaw in an assassin) or if he has simply decided to forsake any further efforts to dissemble. “Probably should have.”

It’s all he needs to hear. This man would have killed him for money. He is no better than those who would sell him for it. Fenris pulls on the tattoos burning through his body, and ignores the dragging ache of them as he does so. The man on the dust huffs, and tilts his head back, exposing the thick line of his neck.

“Make it quick, won’t you?”

Again, Maker damn him, Fenris hesitates. The blue-white light around his hands flickers as he loses his focus. “Are you not going to try and stop me?”

The man shrugs, and flinches when it pulls at his wound. His blood drips into the dust. Nearby, mabari hounds bark on another street. “I know when I’m beat. Besides, being a Crow isn’t the sort of job you leave. This was always going to happen, one way or another.” The man gives him a grin then, blinding and handsome and full of mischief. “I’m just grateful it’s coming at the hands of someone so pretty.”

Fenris feels himself flush, and blushes more deeply in his own indignation, feeling blood rushing up the back of his neck and to the tips of his ears. He nearly kills the blighted man then, if only to stop the way he is looking at him. But something in what he’d said sticks and niggles at the back of his head, like grit in a shoe. 

“What do you mean, it isn’t the sort of job you leave? You did not choose this?”

The man sighs, then, broad shoulders dropping as he realises that Fenris is not going to kill him imminently. Above them, the sky is grey and promising rain. “Ah, no, not exactly.”

Fenris frowns. Around them the smell of warm blood is thick in the air over the astringent bite of poison. “Explain.”

The man looks up at him, squinting against the light of the sun, veiled by the clouds behind Fenris’ head. “Why do you care?”

Fenris answers, honestly. “I’m trying to decide whether or not to kill you.”

The man huffs, then, something that isn’t so much mirth as instinct. “I always thought this would be quicker.” He mutters the words to the dust. Blood dribbles over his fingers from the wound in his side. Then he sighs. “My father was an apostate. He got dead, left me and my family on the streets. I got picked up by the Crows when I was eight, I think? Been there ever since. Like I said. It’s not the kind of job you leave.”

“You said it was an Antivan organisation.” Fenris does not think he can hear a lie in the man’s voice, but he doesn’t know how good he is at lying.

The man scowls now, and the expression is thunderous. Fenris nearly finds himself stepping back, some cowed and trained part of his hindbrain demanding that he submit to such fury. He holds his ground. “Yeah, well. One of the Masters went shopping.”

“You are a slave.” Fenris hadn’t entirely intended to say the words out loud. The human stiffens, and Fenris watches with interest as pride and resignation wage war across his handsome face.

After a moment he says, with another attempt at levity, “after a fashion. Yes.”

Fenris crouches, then, and the human flinches. Fenris supposes that makes sense. He moves his hand to touch the human’s, and the man looks up at him. This close, Fenris can see the faint line of a scar tracing down from his temple, and the way the corners of his brown eyes tighten in grim anticipation. 

“If you’re planning to torture me, I should warn you that the Crows are sort of famous for training that out of us. You won’t get far.”

Fenris shakes his head, ignoring his own memories of torturous ‘training’ at the hands of his master. This close, the human’s voice is so deep Fenris can almost imagine that he feels it shivering in his chest. “I intend to help you.” He stops, then, and withdraws his hand. “What is your name?”

The human stares at him. Fenris can see the confusion in his brown eyes. He thinks he would have been confused, too. It only furthers his resolve. After a moment, the human clears his throat. “Garrett. Hawke. My name is Garrett Hawke.”

Fenris nods, and pulls a poultice from his belt, gently but firmly pulling Hawke’s hand away from his torn armour and the wound beneath it. “My name is Fenris. I know what it is, to be a slave.”

Hawke hisses as he presses the fabric of the poultice to his wound, applying a firm clinical pressure he’d learned years ago. After a moment, in which Fenris feels Hawke’s eyes on him and tries not flinch, the human breaks the quiet. “How do you know that I won’t hurt you?”

Fenris shrugs, adjusting the poultice a little and staring at it instead of the handsome man beside him. “I don’t. But I think I could take you, in a fair fight.”

Hawke grins. “I never play fair.”

Fenris smirks a little then, unsure of what possesses him to rise to the jest. “Neither do I.” Something flashes in Hawke’s eyes - dark and bright, like humour or admiration. Fenris feels blood rushing to his cheeks again and desperately wishes it away. After a few moments, his face cools. The smell of the poultice’s herbs is thick and bitter between them. Fenris breaks the silence quietly. “It is worth the risk.”

Hawke frowns, sunbeaten skin wrinkling with the movement. “What is?”

Fenris looks at him then, meeting his eyes. The poultice under his fingers is damp and soft. He wonders at what he sees in Hawke’s eyes: the quiet strength and courage there. He wonders what it is about him that seems so irresisitible. “Your freedom. If you are a slave, then I would risk my life to free you.”

Hawke stares at him. “Why?”

Fenris shrugs and turns away, letting his hair fall forwards a little to hide his eyes as he answers him. “No one should be a slave.” His fingers tighten around the damp fabric of the poultice. “I have won my freedom. I would not take it from another.” Carefully, he lifts the poultice. Hawke winces, and doesn’t meet his eyes when he replies.

“You’re a better man than me.”

Fenris shakes his head. “I am free. It is what you do with your freedom that will define you, not what you were forced to do in bondage.” He thinks, for a moment, of a sandy beach and blood between his toes. 

Hawke is still looking at him. Fenris gets to his feet, ignoring the burn of his tattoos as he does so, and holds out his hand. After a moment, Hawke takes it. He skin is hot and calloused, and his hand is broad and strong, enveloping Fenris’ entirely. He seems surprised that Fenris is able to pull him to his feet, and Fenris feels a faint hint of satisfaction at that.

Standing, Hawke towers over him. Most humans do. Fenris no longer finds it intimidating. Instead, he turns to leave, heel slipping in the dust. 

Fenris is a few feet away when Hawke calls out to him. “Fenris! Wait!”

Fenris stops, and turns back to him. Hawke stands a little awkwardly amidst the bodies of his fallen comrades, body tilted around his wound. It has, at least, stopped bleeding. He scratches the back of his head, and his hair is thick and black and curling. He is a very handsome man. 

“Can I come with you?”

Fenris stares at him. Hawke looks away, and his cheeks grow ruddy with his blush. Above them, the clouds break, and it begins quietly to rain. “It’s that or go back. And they’ll kill me for failing, so...”

This isn’t his problem. He should say as much. If he isn’t going to kill him, Fenris should at the very least leave the man to take himself and his problems elsewhere - and preferably very, very far away from him. Maker knows he has enough problems of his own.

But he thinks of the last few days, and weeks, and months. He thinks of the loneliness gnawing at his chest like a physical thing. (He thinks of a sandy beach and blood between his toes.)

Fenris inclines his head. “Very well.”

Hawke’s face brightens immediately, and he’s almost childish in his excitement as he lopes closer, like nothing so much as the mabari hounds of his homeland. “Great! Say, out of curiosity, have you ever been to The Crown and Lion?”

Fenris stares up at the human beside him. “The inn?”

Hawke nods, and together they step out of the alley and into the high street. Rain falls steady and cool over their faces. If anyone is perturbed by the two heavily armed men who’ve just left a back alley covered in blood, they’re wise enough to keep it to themselves. “They serve a great malt whiskey. And I don’t know about you, but I need a drink.”

Fenris raises an eyebrow. He hadn’t thought much of the place when he’d passed it. But the idea of a decent drink is an appealing one. Part of him whispers that sharing alcohol with an assassin is hardly what could be considered wise. The other part of him is caught on the way Hawke is looking at him: bright and cheerful and laughing, brown eyes warm with the joy of it. It’s hard to imagine that this man had so recently been resigned to his own execution. Fenris cannot bring himself to regret his decision to let him live.

“Very well. But I shall be very put out if you poison my whiskey.”

Hawke grins at him, and the expression is crooked and handsome and laughing. “I wouldn’t dare.”

#dadwc #cartadwarfwithaheartofgold #fenhawke #da2 #m!fenhawke #my fic #fenris #hawke

[awaari]

(Okay this is a bit lame and I didn’t present it well enough for some to understand, but it’s based on a true story) Basically this happened while I was going through the Emerald Graves map, there’s an area where a chest is located on this small platform and the only way to get to it its by crossing a narrow ass plank. I made sure to command my team to hold their position so they don’t follow me while l carefully cross over Not only the chest kicked me in the face with its Anitva Dagger, but somehow either the game glitch or my team didn’t register the command - showed up right in the middle of the plank, walking on it like it was nothing

#comic #long post #my art #awaari #dragon age inquisition #galathan lavellan #dorian pavus #Varric Tethras #Cassandra Pentagast #emerald graves

[dovah--kiin]

Time Alone

characters: fem human mage + zevran a little chat about love (cullen) and expectations 

Magic is not within the blood of dwarves. Oh, they have read about it -- dreamed about it, but cannot never own its gift: not even enough coins could grant this wish. However, now the masses can watch magic with their own eyes in their own kingdom. The gray warden -- Azura of the circle of magi -- has come for aid for the Blight. She has chosen the king of orammar with the help of Caridin -- the hand made crown now sits on the choose king.

The journey to the deep roads was long and exhausting for the entire team. Each member of the team took their leave after the crowning. Oghren took the fall of his latter wife very hard and excused himself to the local tavern for the night. Sten was standing guard of the library where Azura is entertaining people. His demeanor enough to keep many dwarves at a good distant as they watched the mage perform her magic. Zervan, stayed toward the door watching the others flock toward the warden.

Dagna, a local dwarf, had begged Azura to see some magic first hand. Azura, more than glad to share her talents, showed much. The warden was performing her various skills -- ice, fire, lightening, ward -- whatever the girl asked. Dagna was sitting in a stone chair making notes as Azura changed her magic from one element to the next.

“WOW! This is so amazing” Danga nearly squealed.

Azura only smiled a little -- the corners of her mouth turning upward. Tis a good sight to be appreciated instead of feared.

“Those are simple spells that any apprentice can handle,” Azura explained as she picked up her staff.  She walked out toward the opening of the library -- giving herself plenty of room. “This is what I have been trained to be.”

Azura closed her eyes and held onto her staff tightly. Then, the staff turned into a bright light and formed into the shape of a large sword. Azura turned her body to the left then the right, swinging her magical sword. Dagna sat with her eyes larger than before; clearly too distracted to make notes at the moment. The sword then turned into pure ice and Azura clenched her fist -- destroyed it and the sword returned the the wooden staff.

Dagna clapped her hands with a bright smile. Sten did not make a facial change but only a nod. My, tis a sight to see him give any thought toward magic. Zevran clapped as well with the slightest smirk on his tan face. Azura only bowed slightly at the claps.

“Thank you, but now I grow very weary. I hope you learned something from this Dagna.” Azura stated with a winded breath.

Dagna stood up with her stone tablet. “Oh yes! Thank you so much! I can’t wait to see other mages do this as well! Oh, I better go home and pack my bags. Thanks again!” Dagna ran out.

Azura only shook her head with a smile on her pale face. She turned to Sten.

“Kadan. What do you need?” Sten asked. Azura wished she knew what the phrase meant -- she has never studied qunlat. Perhaps she should start , maybe after The Blight.

“Can you check up on Oghren? He has been gone for a while and he left in a horrid mood. I do not wish anything bad to happen to him in his state of mind”, she explained to Sten. He only scoffed at her request.

“His mate was in the wrong. He should be thankful we corrected her actions,” he stated back in his emotionless tone. However, Azura was not phased by the tone.

“Please Sten,” she spoke softer. His strong gaze was on her almost white hues -- never leaving his. He let out an exhausted sigh. Ah, success.

“Yes...” he then turned and left the library.

Azura turned toward Zervan who was looking at her with those tempting yellow hues. She turned away from the gaze refusing to allow herself to fall for such a pathetic attempt. True, he was attractive enough but she does not like this game of cat and mouse they play. She pulled out a seat for herself and sat upon the stone. Truly, it is so uncomfortable but she was curious to their books about mages. She pushed her long raven hair behind her shoulders and turned her head in the opposite direction of him -- in a silent statement to Zervan to leave her.

“My dear, do you know what kadan means?” Zervan asked as he walked over to her.

“No, but I am certain you wish to indulge me with your knowledge?” Azura replied as she pulled a book about mages off the shelf. Zervan only smirked with a glint in her golden eyes.

“Oh, my dear, I wish to indulge you in my knowledge of many things. I assure you.” he said quickly so she could not interpret him -- the typical game they play.

Well, she fell into that trap, didn’t she?

Zervan sat in the chair next to her: a little too close for her comfort but she did not say anything. His golden eyes glued to her like a moth to the flame.

“Kadan means “where the heart lies” or in simple terms ‘friend’. But I do prefer ‘where the heart lies’, do you?”

Azura was surprised to hear this. She honestly did not think Sten saw her as an equal -- let alone a friend. It touched her heart in a way she never thought possible. She did not say anything for a moment --- just thinking to herself about the word kadan.

“I do as well,” she answered as she opened the book. The words were in dwarf language, but she had spent her youth in the circle studying other languages -- this would be a good chance the challenge herself. She began to read, or at least tried. She knew this would set a flame to Zervan because she was not engaging in conversation.

The assassin leaned closer to her to examine the book. “Ah. Did I offend you, my beauty? Do you wish I call you kadan as well? Kadan....Ka-dan...it does sound better when it leaves my lips, doesn’t it?”

Azura tried extremely hard to let any emotion, or dear say a blush, appear on her pale features. His accent is truly marvelous -- it is so smooth and clear with a hint of allure in it. Yet, she would never tell him. She keeps her gaze on the book. Her slender finger turning the pages ever so slowly.

Zervan pouts at his gesture. He leans even closer to her. Azura can smell him -- a hint of cinnamon, leather, and the cleanse of a day bath. Maker, she hoped she smelled just as nice.

“I did not know you could read other languages. Truly fantasizing -- you are truly a remarkable woman,” he stated as his finger traced the words in the book. His fingers dancing a little too close to hers.

A compliment and a good one at that. She does pride herself in her knowledge, that is for certain. Yet, she refuses to give into this game they have played since she spared his life. He did look so pathetic that day -- bloody and beaten but still has flirty as usual. It was this charm that sparked her interesting. She had , probably never again, met a man like him. She has always been surrounded by stuttering Templars.

“You flatter me,” she replied as she gently swayed his hand away from the book. The moment her slender fingers touched his, he took his chance and held her hand in his.

“I am truly trying, mi amora,” his voice lowered and was as sweet as honey. Azura looked at their hands locked together. He leaned in toward her, and she was starting to lean back toward him as well. It was like a magnetic draw to him -- one she cannot escape so easily from.

Oh, his efforts are that of a determined man. A man ready to show his hand of cards if that means he can win the bet. She gives him credit for all his attempts and his alluring voice. It is very hard to not fall for this man. Yet, she is strong willed and refuses to fall for lust.

He was so close to her face, she could fell his breath on her skin. Her heart was racing under her blue robes. Their lips are just inches a part. Only a few more inches....

No, she cannot fall for his trap!

Azura moves her hand out his grip in a swift motion and moved her head toward the side. She closed the book and placed it back on the stone table. “Why must you make this a game?” she finally questioned him -- a question she is sure will never have answers.

Zevran had a defeated expression and pouted. “A game? My dear, this is not just a game for me. I am truly mesmerized by your beauty. I only want to show you just how beautiful you are. The only way I can do so is by showering in compliments and also in the heat of passion as I ravish your beautiful body,” he answered, adding a tone of dramatic to show his “wounded” pride of the disjointing of their hands and their needby kiss.

Azura only looked at him with a defeated expression upon her face. His handsome features, his confidence, his body -- tis everything a woman or man would want in a man. Yet, she is hesitant. He approaches sex as if there is no love in it -- sex to only be a comfort idea, not of two people in love. This is something she can never agree too.

“I am flatted, truly. But, I will just not lay with you unless there is something more than just lust.” She stated with a wave of her hand.

Zevran raised a brow and chuckled under his breath. “My dear, why must you make it so difficult? Two friends can lay and have no feelings in under the sheets.”

Azura shook her head and ran a hand through her long raven locks. This appears to be a stand off between them. She stood up and crossed her arms over her elegant robes. “Do you know what the circle of magi is?”

“Changing the subject? I’m game. I have heard only a little when I was in Anitva. Why don’t you tell me since you are eager to speak of it”, he answered and leaned back in the stone chair.

“I was given to the circle when I was only seven. I don’t remember my own parents or even what part of Ferelden I was born in,” she spoke as she stared at the books in front of her. “The circle was my home. However, in the circle we had many rules. We were respected -- to a certain degree.”

“Oh, where did the respect end?” Zevran questioned.

Azura turned back to him, “We could not be friendly to other mages or anyone in fact, if you catch my meaning” --oh he did from the look on his face -- the raise of his eyebrow and the small gap in between his lips “I am not too certain why but now that I left the circle I have my own ideas. I think they don’t let us because they believe two mages would birth another. We must serve men -- tis true, but the charnty doesn’t want too many of us. “

“My dear, are you saying that you are a virgin?” He questioned with the same expression on his face.

Azura refused to show any sign of weakness on her pale features. Yes, it was true. She was. The have relations in the circle was too difficult. So many were caught and if caught a mage risked the chance of being tranquil -- a fate worst than death. She refused to give into temptation, and there were many that is for sure.

“Yes, I am.” She answered with her chin up high. “I could never or I would risk the chance of being tranquil. However, I had a few moments of lust that is for certain.”

“Oh, “ he chuckled “do tell.”

Azura started to smile, only a little. A smile that was hard to bring out of her. “His name was Cullen. He was so strong and handsome, but he was a Templar. His job was to watch me and ensure I never fell to my demons. He would watch me train and compliment my skills. I was smitten by his appearance. One day after class, he tried to speak to me but in stead I kissed him before he could speak. Me! I did something so daring like that. I ran away in fear that he would have tell his kinght-commander on me.”

“Did he?” Zevran asked. He has been so quiet during her tale. She is not sure if he is that interested or just being polite.

“No. But we never spoke of it after that. Some days, I would kiss him out of fun if he took too long to speak. I think he did enjoy our times of lust. However, the day of my harrowing, if I became a demon he was supposed to slay me without a second thought” -- she paused, that was such a glorious moment in her life. She thought after that day she would finally be a senior mage and leave the town to serve armies as battle mage. Oh, how fate laughed at her that day.

“I approached Cullen afterward and we spoke about it. He reminds me of Allistar ; they both cannot speak in front of women. He was always so flustered around me and could never make eye contact. I tried to flirt but he would always excuse himself: I found it rather heart warming.”

“Ah. I see,” Zevran interrupted. “You wish for me to be like that. My dear, I wish I could but unlike them I cannot keep my charisma at bay.“

Azura only sighed and turned back to face him. “That is not the point of my story. If you let me finished however....”

“Yes, yes. I am eager to know what became of him,” Zevran replied and leaned on the table closer to the warden.

“I was forced to leave the circle because I helped a friend -- who became a blood mage. I still remember Cullen’s face when Duncan took me away. I waved goodbye, but I wanted to say more,” she paused -- his expression still in her memories -- too fresh. “I returned to the circle as a warden and saw that the mages took over using blood magic. Cullen was their prisoner. He was tormented by demons who pretended to be me. He didn’t think I was real and said....horrible things about me.”

“Oh, like what?” Zevran asked with a venom in his usual honey like tone.

“He couldn’t understand how he could want a mage. Like I was some vile creature from the gates of the fade ready to chew men up. He saw me just as another apostate -- not even a circle mage.” she paused and exhaled slowly. “He...he never looked at me the same after that day.”

“My dear....I.....am sorry,” he spoke softly to him. His soft tone was almost her undoing.

“I tell you this because I have been in lust. This is what this is between us, just lust. I....” she paused -- too shamed to say what she really wants from him. Love, that’s what she wants. That’s what she craves. She craves to be the desire of someone -- her and only her. “ I don’t want just lust.”

Zevran was silent as he stared at her. She has never felt self conscious, but she does under his silent gaze. So unlike him to be so quiet.

“I have always taken my pleasures when I could. I only know of lust,” he paused and she felt her feet getting cold from the fear of his statement. “Yet, for a women as beautiful, strong, alluring such as yourself. I would kill to have you share a night with me. Perhaps... We shall see, no promises, mi amora.”

That’s all she can ask for at the moment.

Azura sat back in her chair and looked up at Zevran. “I suppose it is hard to think what you say about me is true all the time. I was never praised in the circle for my appearance or my body: only my talents. I was created to serve man -- that was all -- and am still good for.”

Zevran shook his head. He stood up and nearly turned the chair over. “No! That is not true. You don’t just have one purpose. You have many. Look at you! A beautiful warden whose fate is to unite the races together to stop the Blight. That is more than serving man, I believe.”

Azura sighed -- it does sound nice but her only purpose for so long was to serve SOMEONE -- the chantry, a noble, an army, whoever.

“Maybe, all this independence has gone to my head--” she started to say but Zevran walked over to her and took her hands into his tanned ones.

“Azura,” he stated and a blush formed on her pale features. The way he speaks her name in the accent --- it is truly her undoing. His fingers stroked the top of her hands slowly. “you are so much more than just a circle mage.”

She looked up at him and her fingers tightened around his hands. She didn’t break their gaze. This -- this connection, right here and right now feels stronger than any she has felt before. His warm yellow hues made her feel so warm -- protected.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

#dragon age #dragon age fiction #dragon age fanfiction #zevran x femwarden

[gxldencity]

also i never realize how much i use the name john alexander (juan alejandro or any other combination of it)

cause i read that trev graphic i made months ago and florante’s ancestor who moved to anitva is juan alessandro

hey i mean, i was basing it off alec’s name.....that’s how it became juan alejandro cause alec is a prick and wants to name his son after himself

#elaine talks

[te-amozevris]

Chapter 11: In which A Caterpillar is our house guest & Zevran is grossedout

  “Hello we have a guest today!” I skipped in at midday. Zevran was bringing platters of sandwiches with some of the servants and grinned.

 “Oh where is he or she?” He looked behind me.

I beamed and setting down my bag on the couch, took out a glass jar with leaves. He scratched his head, glancing at the door. “This is Fluffy, my science project. We’re to observe how much they eat and the life cycle into a butterfly. Awesome!” I gushed, putting the jar at my spot on the table.

  “What? Er this is where we eat. Why are you putting it there?” Zev replied, curling his lip.

  I pouted. “He Is my pet and I’ve to look after him. Please. What’s wrong?”

We had a mini- argument about that, not shouting but Zevran was grossed-out by insects. This was part 1. “He won’t die when you just leave him a while. Don’t be ridiculous.” He was grumbling other stuff which I didn’t understand. I watched Fluffy eating some leaf and tuned that out.  

 Just then Fenris said ‘I’m home’ When he is not that busy, we can eat together! He deposited some books on the front table and a smaller sword on the weapons’ rack. I think Cullen’s lessons were responsible. We called out hello. I introduced my new guest excitedly.

Fenris liked Fluffy and touched the glass to say hi. That is why he’s my best friend.

My annoyance with Zev fizzled out, and he said in hurt pride, “She won’t listen to me, Fenris. Can you convince her to put it away? So disgusting.”

“I thought you’re an animal lover.” I smiled. Fenris asked me if I would like to. I shook my head.

 Zevran did not find that amusing. “That’s a bug. It’s eugh. Will you take it away or not?” He folded his arms and snapped. His accent thickened.

 “Sorry with all due respect, I need to look after him.” How could he force me, did we not agree to be respectful?

  “Fenris!”

  “It should be alright, we don’t have birds coming in. Actually Zev, she has always brought in a stray creature or two. Too bad I’m allergic to cats.” He explained patiently.

  “It would be fine if it’s not that thing.Braska ”

  The warrior chuckled. “Still, it’s not good for his blood pressure.  I’ll take a bath. You can start first, don’t wait.”  I reached out to take a sandwich but Zev whisked the platters away. Darn!

He moved to the farthest end of the table. Our dinner table is rectangular. I sighed and patted the jar cover. Mary chuckled and said we’re both stubborn.

  “Er, don’t be upset. I just wanted to… lighten things up.” I said after I washed my hands and came beside him. Zev did not answer.

How awkward. Why must he be so petulant? I went to the kitchens. Some of the cooks were talking. I asked them why he was moody. “Oh he wanted to make lunch for you guys. It really is not everyday we put worms at table,” the washer woman remarked.

  I racked my brain…. There’s an oriental tradition* of offering tea to the teacher when he or she is pissed. I can do that! There was some premium tea in the pot so I took a small cup and put it on a tray.

  As I balanced it carefully and slowly walked over, Fenris had come out drying his hair. He smiled.

Without speaking, I started tipping the pot to fill cups. Then holding one with both hands, I approached Zev who stopped chewing. “I’m sorry.Will you accept my token?” I bowed my head and offered him the cup.

  He did not speak for a long time. Then, “Yes. Hm I’m impressed.” He said without heat in his voice.

The elf was still sullen but the fire had faded from his eyes. I observed his turned almost amber when Zevran lost his temper.

“Hey squirt do I get one too? So cute.” Fenris chuckled. I did the same for him.

    The next day, I snuck this into his room when he was asleep.

  Dearest Zevran maestro,

  Of course I won’t laugh at you. So you mean you were behind the group? My guess, and that must have been hurtful. Weren’t some friendly? I asked Alistair what he thought, he said because you had set a trap for them and they could not trust you. We are keen to understand your side of stuff…  How long were you at the back?

  Ah I saw the dwarf boy Sandal, I think. He helps with Fen’s enchantment stuff and repairs. He is pitiful he only speaks very little, because it’s autism. It means he cannot use complex words nor understand relationships with people. It happens more in boys. They are specialists in certain areas, very smart, like him knowing about explosives and runes. My class has a boy like him, so we are asked to be more tolerant and patient. He is new, partly why he’s easily agitated and start shouting, takes very long to calm down.

He will stay in a room by himself, until they figure out how to help him, aww.

  Sandal’s father looked worried when he still replied short words to Fenris, who pities him. At first, I saw Fenris scowling and asked, are you angry?

No, he feels sorry for the poor chap. They’re very good with animals. There’s this true story of a cat who helped an autistic boy. Quite funny, he would run to talk to her and say ‘I love you’ ignoring Everyone else! Nor will he hug or care about them! It is all indirect… so Zevran have you seen people like that? Are you patient? Yea, that Aveline was Fereldan too and they didn’t allow females in duels and competitions. That all changed when men were conscripted yet there were not enough forces against the rebels and darkspawn.

  All sexes are equal in your countries? Antiva and Dalish? Cool! Can I ask you a big favour? If you’re going to visit any Dalish, can I come with you please? It is alright if it troubles you too much.  I don’t think I wanna ask permission from aunty or the others, because they won’t allow me. When you’re better, can reply me like that? Thanks! I did ride past Sundermount with Aveline once when we were practising archery. Thought I saw some people flash into the trees. After that she said it’s too dangerous to go on my own. Fenris doesn’t like to. When I met Merrill, I wanted to ask her if I can go but I don’t have the chance to.

  Thank you for making us feel less shy and awkward. Sometimes, haha we have not much to say. Especially when he’s sleepy after missions and I’m dreaming. Do we bore you? It was quite normal when I was younger, Uncle said he did not know what to talk to me about… about mages and Tevinter and all that would be too heavy. It’s nice when you talk, Zev! In fact I was worried about your silences these days. Is something bothering you? Do you tend to withdraw and stew in angry silence?

I’m like that, and know it’s bad but because I can’t solve anything by screaming. I only raise my voice at Mother, which is always a frigging disaster.

I was shocked when you shouted at me, and cut your hand. I didn’t know what to do. Do you cool down fast? Aww, all these are so many questions hope you don’t have a headache. Understand if you don’t wish to mention some.

  Oh I checked in a dictionary, brother is hermano in your language. Want to learn more. Great you don’t mind long letters. I express myself better like this. Haha, sure you are free to cry. But I didn’t do anything special… I’m stunned. Elves are my favourite people and exotic, handsome (I’m blushing hot) and your eyes are like jewellery. I love eating meals and spending time together. Oh, not at all, your background does not matter to me. The inner values are more important, such as you are a great listener, passionate and supportive. I’m an introvert, feeling these is a kind of ‘power’. Oh dear, please don’t cry again when you read this part. And I don’t see myself as superior to any race.

  All my friends outside except the traditionalists-funks, want to fight for equality of rights. I hated it that people made Fen a slave, if I had a choice I would lead an army to wallop them.

The girls envy I’ve two of you live with me, heheh! Er love is… okay what type of love? I was hearing this song, Suerte what does it mean? I didn’t know you hate bugs, Zevran. I really like most of them except bees. Sorry.

  See you around!  Sabriel

      Since he had been mad at me, I didn’t expect him to respond kindly.

Bueno mi querida bonita,

  Means goodday to you my beloved friend, a variation of Antivan. I think I shall answer from the back. Oh that bug, no I don’t like them at all. You were really naughty that day. But it’s alright, don’t do it again.

Suerte means a celebration of life, good fortune. Yea you’ve a great many questions, hope to cover all of them. I’m happy why will I have a headache? You’re cute. Nope I won’t cry, come now. I’m not that weak. Really, so you’ll help us revolt against humans? Don’t be impulsive, calm down. Fenris will be very happy that you all want to free slaves! Same, I would join you if there’s a chance. It’s noble ideals.

  Oh wow you’re so deep. I’ve no idea about autism or introvert. Ah thought it was on purpose, when Sandal would not talk properly. Then there’s no cure for them? Why does it happen? I got impatient with Sandal, full of guilt now. Not at all, you are both very interesting company, I’m not bored.

  Well yes I’ve a hot temper. I wish I can control myself, apologies I remember. I was not angry with you, Sabriel, but sad and helpless that Rinna is gone. I cannot make up for the wrong… when I almost married her.  And I feel bad for asking you everytime. I wish she’ll come talk to me in dreams or Fade. Also depends how deep is my anger. Sometimes if it’s just a small quarrel, I flare up and walk away. I’d almost stabbed business partners before. But I don’t regret that. They got drunk and humiliated me loudly in taverns, that I have no parents. It pissed me off. How dare they insult me. You have no need to fear, in your home I don’t carry any daggers or needles. Why did Varric say that? : ( Is he not a rogue too? Rogue is another word for assassin.  As a sinner I’ve made many mistakes but once I’m indebted to my saviours, I take my oaths seriously. This is not the value the other Crows live by, but I do.

  Then you do that stew in long silence? That is bad, indeed. Won’t it be more painful to hold it inside? That day when you ran in and out, asked me not to talk to them where you went, we were all worried. Did you know that? Wonder if Fenris had said he was shouting at us how can we let you go missing. It is the past now, more than two months, I do not mean to be petty. But it was quite tense. He really loves you, that Wolf. Like you said to me, as long as three people in the world care about us, then there’s hope. It is the wisest advice ever. Please don’t bottle all that pain up all right?

  Now for that rather important issue, you wish to come with me to meet the Dalish? Is it because they seem exotic? Feeling troubled is not an issue, querida. As you have mentioned, will your family, especially Aveline trust me? I don’t know if it is a good idea to sneak off as you have suggested. I actually know the keeper of the present clan a few days from Kirkwall. LiaRineth allied with us during the Werewolf blight. I asked Merrill to be our messenger, they are good friends as well. I hoped to find some relatives. Perhaps we can plan this ‘quest’ more carefully when I’m stronger.

  Do you know they are resentful of humans? It can be dangerous. When we were negotiating for an audience with an older Elf mage (he was evil) the sentries almost riddled us with arrows. Luckily I came in front and they held back. Real stress to convince those dalish not to slay my human friends. It did not help that Sten the qunari and Shale were threatening displays. Shale was a golem. Wait, don’t you intend to talk to Fenris? Let’s not hurt him again please. Of course, I understand this is to be hush, for now.  Truthfully my Dalish is quite pathetic and I would need someone’s tutelage. Otherwise they may be pissed with me too, yes? You would be my responsibility, I don’t mind looking after you. But my confidence is lacking, for I’m accustomed simply to be alert for danger and myself.

I want to learn how to use the two sticks for the noodles, chopsticks?

  Feel free to tell me when I go overboard chattering. Why are you not awkward during Fenris’ silence? I will be so uncomfortable and squirming :- )  The other day he remarks how I should imitate this kind of silence. Mostly we talk about what we did together. I haven’t given up on romancing him yet, he is So mature and honourable. Don’t worry, I didn’t bring up the slavery bit. In fact I never asked him about the markings, except that they’re unique.

  Write back!

  Mucho amor,

Zevran

#fenzev #Anitva #Dalish #dragonageorigins