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loquaciousquark · 5 years

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6th Guardian. Chilly, but with a bite just sharp enough to make it unpleasant as well as uncomfortable

There’s a twitchy new elf in town. Showed up last night to ambush an ambush, as Varric’s friend we were supposed to meet is apparently become an ex-friend, or an ex-anything, really. That was unkind of me, but I do find myself intolerably snippy when someone I don’t know a) saves my life so that I owe them a favor, and b) looks better than me doing it.

They were Crows, too, which I rather thought had been dealt with ever since Isabela’s friend Zevran came through and charmed the pants off all of us. Well, off Isabela, certainly. Well, except she doesn’t wear--never mind. I suppose when one is famous enough to have made enemies of both effective heads of state in one’s town one ought not to be surprised when someone else comes a-killing down the lane.

You know, I said I wanted to vacation in Orlais, but this isn’t quite the way I’d meant it. The Heart of the Many is what she’s after, this Tallis, some fantastic jewel (pah!), and the villainous Duke Prosper (really!) keeps it clutched in his Orlesian...clutches. Leave me be, journal, I’m tired and Fenris slept at his own place tonight, so I’m woeful lonely even with the dog curled on the side of the bed where he belongs.

Now Toby looks betrayed. He can’t even read! How should he know what I’m writing, aside from the fact he’s the oldest friend I’ve got & he knows everything I’m thinking in one glance? Hardly fair, is it?

Anyway, Tallis thinks we ought to come a-crashing to this gala he’s hosting at Chateau Haine in Orlais. A hunt, I think. I used to hunt in Lothering, but if I had to wager I’d suspect they’ll be using slightly different methods than my rope snares and broken traps. And different game than my hare & pheasant. Or perhaps they won’t! Who knows?

I wasn’t going to do it except that Anders is planning a particular midnight event that same week and he wants me publicly away of the city for an alibi. He thinks I don’t know what he’s planning, but I’m the one who got Aveline to turn a blind eye to any ships fleeing the harbor in dead of night with too many passengers than should be aboard. He’d realize it, too, if he weren’t so determined to only see what Justice lets him. Sebastian & Varric have said they’ll keep an eye on him, though, if I do end up going on this fool’s errand, which I suppose is as much as I could hope for. They won’t help him with the escape, but they’ll keep him alive. As alive as he’ll ever be, lately.

Tallis says I should pack something fancy for the evening assemblies at the chateau. Something that’ll make me fit in like the nobility I am. I told her I had a set of old leathers that only had a few pints of blood still caked in the creases, but I don’t think she thought it was funny. Her loss!

11th Guardian. On the road! Still chilly, with the fields tipped with frost this morning and a cold mist floating over all the hedgerows before the sun burned it away

I should never have thought it, journal, but Fenris and Aveline both have agreed to come along with me! I was certain he’d be as thrilled at the idea as Aveline when Isabela pulls out the sixth Angel of Death in a hand, but he only lifted an eyebrow and said, “I enjoy following you,” as if he didn’t know how wibbly he makes me every time he suggests the thought. He brought the beautiful black leather set he wore the evening I became Champion. I packed a sleeveless lavender overtunic and a simple white blouse I can wear over trou & boots, because if experience has taught me nothing else I know I should anticipate running for my life at least once during this venture. Aveline won’t show me, but I’d bet ten sovs on the copper it’s that blue gown she wore the night of the Satinalia feast Mother hosted a few years back.

You must forgive me, journal, if the hand is shakier than usual. The road to Chateau Haine is paved not with gold but with boulders as uneven as Carver’s temper when he’s tired.

Also, Fenris is dozing on my shoulder (an accident, I know, because if he could see the knowing looks Tallis keeps throwing our way he’d ghost straight out of the carriage), and I’d rather cut the hand off than disturb his nap.

We’re due to arrive tomorrow, which is the first night of the duke’s week-long hunting party. I expect to be thrown out by dawn.

Later, just after dinner - grouse, capers, mashed potatoes, mediocre white wine. Pretty pattern on the flatware, though

Evening at the Auberge de Tuyé, an old inn unremarkable in every way save its magnificent brick chimney and the fact that it marks our first evening within Orlais’s borders.

The only interesting events so far are that I nearly fell into the pig trough from stiff knees getting out of the carriage (a fine testament to the skills for which I’ve been hired), the elf waitress was almost uncomfortably deferent at dinner over our travel finery, and when the innkeeper gave Fenris the key to our room without a second glance, I got the most peculiar feeling in my chest that still hasn’t abated.

Got stronger, even, as I watched him read the numbers plated on the doors and find ours easily, without hesitation; stronger again as I watched him direct the inn’s boys with our valises as they brought them to the rooms with every comfortable ease. By the time he sat on the side of the bed and tugged off his boots, then ran his fingers through his hair to shake out the travel dust, my heart might have burst from how dear he’s become to me.

He saw me looking and his face changed, and it wasn’t until he asked (with no small alarm) if I meant to cry that I realized how much must have shown on my own.

How easy it was to cross the room we share and kiss him directly on his mouth. How simple a thing, after every agony of Kirkwall & Tevinter put together, to cup his cheeks in my hands and feel his breath hitch as he smiled up at me.

Flames and pyre, but may I never take another moment for granted with him. Ever, ever, ever.

Very late or very early, not sure which

He’s exhausted & therefore snoring. I am rereading the last lines I wrote over and over again in this remarkably feeble moonlight to remind me why I don’t smother him with a pillow this very instant.

If he doesn’t stop soon I’m going to go kip on Av’s floor and not give two shits if Tallis thinks the less of me for it.

12th Guardian, near midnight. Cold

It was the blue gown, ha! We made it to Prosper’s estate just before dinner. More extravagant than anything in Kirkwall, even the Viscount’s festivals; fire dances and swans made of ice and servants proffering canapes at every turn. Fifi de Launcet & her entire hideous family are here. Dulci’s already sneered at me twice. I thought about asking after Emile, but I’ve fond-enough memories of his foolishness I didn’t want to poison them with his relations.

One of the guards thought Fenris was my manservant and tried to hustle him away from the glitterati, which lasted all of three seconds before the guard a) realized Fenris’s jacket cost more than his entire set of armor, and b) looked at Fenris’s face and read the death there if he didn’t release his arm that instant. More dangerous than that pet wyvern Prosper keeps to alarm his guests. Maker, I need to learn that trick.

Aveline mostly kept hawk’s eyes on Tallis all night. For the second day of a week-long hunt the festivities seemed over-grand to me, but Tallis hardly batted an eye as she danced in and out of the crowds, listening for any mention of the jewel and what I suppose are Prosper’s dubious motives for pilfering it. Nothing tonight, she said, though there’s plenty of time yet.

Haven’t met Prosper himself, as it happens. Apparently he’s still negotiating certain hunt-related errata or somesuch. I can’t bring myself to care at the moment, as I’m in a bed with white satin sheets, covers embroidered in gilt thread, and a shirtless elf insistently nibbling his way across my shoulder, please the Maker I’ll put down the pen, fine!

14th Guardian. Warmer today but not by much, clear skies to see doom from miles away

Short entry, as we’re to be guests of honor at the feast tonight--got the wyvern today! & an alpha, for that matter, and my left arm’s burned to the Void to prove it. Got wrist-deep in wyvern dung & Fenris laughed at me (prior to the burning), watched Tallis make a fool of herself (roughly contemporary to the burning), and nearly killed but didn’t an Orlesian baron who attempted to poach our rightly-earned victory from under our noses (post-burning, and some of his details are frankly lost by me attempting to beat my own arm off to get away from the spitting poison). Asked Aveline after if she missed being part of these fancy companies and she said as yet she hadn’t seen anything worth missing. Ha!

Regardless, Tallis wants to use the party Prosper’s throwing for us as cover to sneak inside the chateau & find the Heart. I feel as though the guests of honor vanishing mid-feast might be noticeable, but then again, I’ve snuck out more than once at these things and haven’t been caught yet. Perhaps tonight will be more of the same.

Tallis told us we ought to be prepared to do whatever it takes to get hold of the key we’ll need to reach the innards of the chateau. I told her I drew the line at my clothes coming off at any hands not tattooed in lyrium and Fenris coughed into his wine. Tallis only rolled her eyes and said she’d be happy to do the seducing if it came to that, and Aveline sighed and said she wished Isabela had come along as well. She’d have enjoyed every minute of this, the wench.

(Sidebar, before I forget--Bann Teagan is here as well. That’s who Aveline’s been spending most of her time with when absolutely forced to make small talk, & I must remember to ask him how Lothering is doing before we go. His outlook was not so sunny last time we spoke, but I have hopes.)

Agh, I’ve more to say and no time! Later, later!

Who knows what time it is

Tallis is a Qunari spy, Prosper knew we were coming, and it was all a trap. This prison cell is so old the stone has graffiti from over an age ago.

And yet, funnily enough, I’ve been to worse parties.

I’m annoyed with Tallis & writing here to ignore her. The guard outside the cell keeps rattling the bars with his pommel and asking if we’re hungry yet. I can’t say I care for his leer, though it’s better than the way Cyril de Montfort eyed me like a hock of (despairing) ham earlier. His hands are larger than Fenris’s and much colder, and when they came ‘round my waist I could feel him searching for a hem to slide under. Thank the Bride I can be fucking glib when I wish to be, & that Cyril’s fool enough to think midnight being more romantic was a good enough reason to let me go.

I think I could burn these bars to slag but I don’t know how many guards are down the hall, and I don’t know where my father’s staff is. I also don’t know where Aveline & Fenris are, which worries me more than anything.

Tallis looks miserable I’m so angry with her. Damn it. Damn me. If she’d been straightforward from the start I’d have been so much more inclined to help her with this piffle.

It must have been at least two hours by now. My left arm is killing me since Aveline has my salve. I’ve forgiven Tallis solely out of boredom

She says if we don’t stop Salit hundreds of innocent people will die. The guard suggests that if we don’t stop chit-chatting like a pair of magpies he’ll shut our mouths himself. I don’t care for this one’s attitude, honestly

Later, briefly

We’ve only stopped a moment to rest, so this must be extremely short. Fenris & Aveline found us in the prison--Tallis had made them stay behind as we crept through the chateau to avoid attention. Fenris tore out the guard’s heart as Tallis picked our lock & then he took hold of me so tight I could barely breathe, and it was the first time since the inn I felt quite myself again.

Prosper has these creatures fighting for him. Harlequins, he calls them. They fight like demons & wear masks to boot, and there’s something very skittish in the way they move. I don’t like it, though I will admit they die like anything else.

We’re deep in the caverns under the chateau. We did manage to loot the high holy fire out of Prosper’s vaults before we left, which has made me feel loads better, but we’re not out of the woods yet. Or caves, as it happens. Aveline’s shield broke in the last fight & she twisted her elbow badly; we’re giving her a moment to bind it before we continue on. I’ll heal what I can when she’s finished, but Fenris thinks I should save my strength for battle. Tallis agrees with him, which is even more irksome.

Aveline’s done with the splint. More later.

(I hope)

17th Guardian. Warmer still today, or is that just the wyvern spit

There is, it seems, a later, though it was a close thing. Prosper and his wyvern are both dead, as are Salit & the plans to steal the Qunari agents’ identities. Tallis has mucked off to who-knows-where, though not without hocking a great fat ruby at my head in thanks and exchanging a few flirts that had Fenris rolling his eyes so far back in his head he probably saw the Maker Himself. We’re in the carriage now, on the way back to the Auberge for our last stop before returning home to Kirkwall tomorrow. I’ve had to borrow clothes from Aveline’s bags, as the green slime Prosper used to guide his wyvern’s little nosie right to me has stunk my leathers to high heaven. They’re wrapped three layers deep in a trunk lashed to the roof of the carriage and I can still smell them.

Maker, I don’t even remember where I left off. We made it out of the caves eventually, though not before I found Fenris a necklace that used to belong to some Fog Warriors & he kissed me hard in one of the little rocky nooks right before the exit into daylight. Aveline was already outside, and Tallis didn’t seem to care much -- not that it would have mattered if she had, as there was enough lingering fear in his voice I shouldn’t have stopped if Andraste had come down herself to ask.

The next hours are a blur. We fought our way up the hills and down them again, mostly against Tal-Vashoth & these horrid little nesty creatures called ghasts, and then Baron Arlange must have been very determined to die as he came out at us, again, and this time there wasn’t a duke to intervene on his behalf.

Flames, I’m starving, and the dried jerky Aveline so thoughtfully brought for us on this last journey is not taking away the edge. We’ve still over an hour before we reach the inn; thank goodness this is distracting enough. I’d rather be napping, honestly, but Fenris has taken the seat across to lounge its full width, and since he was nearly gutted by the wyvern in the last fight I suppose I can’t begrudge it overmuch. Aveline’s solid enough, but her shoulder’s hard as a rock. A good thing--strong! Rock-strong. Mountain-strong. Don’t give me that look.

Anyway, we eventually fought our way back to the chateau, whereupon we discovered our intrepid Salit dispensing his little scroll directly into the duke’s grasping ...grasp. Tallis got the scroll back via a bit of trickery--good enough--but then Prosper saw the rest of us and it was all “you’ve seen too much” and “now you must die” and blah, blah, blah, here’s my raging seasick wyvern to spit up on you while I rain fiery exploding arrows from the sky, worst Tuesday ever.

In the end, though, both the wyvern and his rider went off the cliff backing the chateau’s courtyard, Tallis got her secrets returned, and Fenris got the munificent honor of lying flat on his back on the pavingstones for another quarter-hour until I could get his side closed up again. Aveline was marvelous this whole time--held all the remaining, goggling guests at bay while Tallis invented an excellent cover story (I assume, as I wasn’t there to hear it, but we also remained un-mauled by Prosper’s guards further, so it must have had some success). Leliana came out from the house too, that Nightingale from that evening at the Chantry a few months back, and as much as she obviously knew we were lying she backed up everything Tallis said and more. Tallis clearly didn’t thrill at her presence (is she truly a spy? She shows her emotions far too easily--said the tar-black pot to the kettle, I know, I know), but thanked her for the help, later, and didn’t make a single acerbic comment when Leliana and I began talking about the Lothering chantry over dinner.

(I’d forgotten she used to run the handbell choir there for a while. I was only a ringer for half a season, since there weren’t enough bells & Bethany wanted it more than I did, but I have so many fond memories of watching her on the little dais before the altar, dressed in Chantry rose & gold, her hair ruthlessly pinned back as she watched Leliana for their cues.

Leliana says she remembers her, is sorry for the loss of a sweet girl. She’s a far better liar than I’ll ever be, but I’d like to believe her.)

As it is, by the time Lord Cyril arrived to find his father dead & his house in utter disarray, most of the carcasses had been ceremonially tossed to the rocks below. Leliana and I managed to persuade him Leopold had eaten something poor and lost his mind, and in the fracas took the duke over the edge with him--true enough, given the circumstances, but as Cyril seemed both wholly unaware of his father’s attempt to ally with the Tal-Vashoth and wholly unsuspicious of our motives (aided, perhaps, by the fact that I still had blood up to my ears), he accepted our truth readily enough and turned all his attention to legal matters and the rest of his guests instead. I nearly got away without any more of his attentions, too, but at the last moment he caught me by the hand, kissed my cheek with very cold lips, and gravely told me as alluring as I might be, he thought it would be unseemly to pursue a summer romance given the circumstances. Of course, said I ad nauseum, until at last he let me go and I was able to get Fenris inside to our room where he might rest. Fenris, who is infinitely warmer even when complaining about the Kirkwall cold.

Hm. In retrospect, that may have been the fever. Ah, well.

We’ve pulled up to the picket gate before the Auberge, so I will end this here.

18th Guardian. Very cold dawn, clear pink skies

Writing this at breakfast. Fenris is still asleep and Aveline strongly discourages dialogue before she has had her second cup of coffee, so I speak to an ever-willing audience in you instead.

Fenris’s fever has broken and his side looks much better, thank goodness, though he’s disgustingly tired and prone to snippy complaints at the least discomfort. I’m of the opinion a few good nights’ sleeps & a few really good sleepless nights will get him back to his old self, but I doubt he’ll feel truly well until we’re in Kirkwall again. He’s also annoyed my arm is taking so long to heal, though I haven’t told him it’s because I’ve been using all my strength to get him whole, first. He wouldn’t thank me for the knowing, and I don’t need his high dudgeon prolonging his healing even more.

Damn all of this mess. Despite everything I do like Tallis, and despite everything I feel badly for Cyril. The only person I don’t regret killing there is Prosper, and that’s half because I got to be very clever as he died. Maker, bring me quickly back to Kirkwall, where at least I know I don’t know who’s right and who’s evil.

Ah, Fenris is up at last. His eyes are clearer than they’ve been since the weekend, so he must be feeling better. And here comes the starry-eyed waitress to bring him his breakfast, right on cue. I ought to marry him as soon as possible to ensure I’m forever included in this excellent service too.

Late evening, in the estate at last, home sweet home (or as much as it can be, anyway, though Toby’s done a wonderful job at trying to crawl through my whole self in welcome)

Asked Fenris tonight if he would have minded a summer romance with Lord Cyril. Said immediately Cyril wasn’t his taste--not nearly alluring enough, even covered in wyvern spit, and went right back to his quail. Cheeky, said I, though I know I was smiling.

Orana keeps walking out of the laundry room with scented kerchiefs pressed to her nose. The leathers may be a lost cause. Damn!

25th Guardian. Warm winds from the north today, though the morning broke cool

Varric is already drafting a series on the Chateau Haine escapades. Jewel Heart, he’s titling it (tentatively), in spite of my numerous and vociferous objections. I say it ought to be an adventure, not a romance; he says it can be both. Hmph.

Varric, when you read this (and don’t flatter your chest hair, we both know where you get your source material, and we both know Isabela’s helping), for Andraste’s sake, come up with a better title. Heart of the Many, maybe. Mark of the Assassin. Something!

14th Drakonis. Warm but very wet -- the puddles are steaming

He uses the word “alluring” forty-seven times in the rough copy. I’m going to burn his press to cinders.

16th Drakonis. Still raining

Fenris likes it.

I may never win again, but at least he makes me enjoy the losing. And Varric -- oh, who cares, you’ll do what you like regardless. Just make sure he’s in his black leathers at least once, and I’ll be satisfied.

And for the record, I demand the first print copy to be autographed for me. Consider it payment for services rendered, for my arm’s gone and scarred and if I haven’t you to tell me how wonderful I was in the scarring, how else will I know it was worth it?

(You know I love you. Don’t ever stop.)

#fenris #hawke #fenris/hawke #dragon age #quark writes #hawke's journal tag #mark of the assassin #ft. tallis and tired aveline #haHAA bet you thought i'd forgotten this eh #eh eh #well #haven't

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mllemaenad · 6 years

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'Imagine your children growing up in such a world. If a mage asked it of you, you would have to give him your daughter, not knowing what his plans for her might be. You could not resist him, and neither could she.' - Sorry, this line particularly came to my attention because take away magic and this? Is exactly what happens in the Tabris origin. And to that one Orlesian merchant in Denerim in DA:O. And probably to any number of peasant/elven girls at the hands of nobles every day across Thedas.

No need to be sorry. :)

You’re right. Absolutely.

The thing is – take this in context. This is an answer written by a grand cleric to a nobleman who seems (we don’t have his side of the conversation, obviously, so we can only infer from the substance of the reply) to have been challenging the Chantry’s treatment of mages. If you look at it like that, then what the grand cleric is describing is what happens to almost every mage child in southern Thedas.

Armed men come to your door and take your child away. You have no right to say no. And you have no idea what they’re going to do with them. They may take your child to a Circle across the sea. They may murder them. They may make them Tranquil. They may rape them, beat them, torture them. Maybe you’ll be lucky: maybe your kid is Vivienne or one of the Warden mages. Maybe they’ll do okay.

But you don’t know. And you can’t tell the Templars to go away; that they can’t have your child. They live in a world where this happens to parents every day.

It’s almost too much to imagine. The Circle, the Templars, they’ve shaped my life. I was no more than twelve when they came for me. My mother wept when they fixed the chains to my wrists, but my father was glad to see me gone. He had been afraid, ever since the fire in the barn. Not just afraid of what I could do, but afraid of me, afraid my magic was punishment for whatever petty sins he imagined the Maker sat in judgement upon.

– Anders (short story)

Anders’s mum couldn’t say no. Maybe she wanted to. At bare minimum, it sounds as though she didn’t want to lose her son forever. But that’s what happened. Little Ella is desperate to get back to her parents, because the Templars didn’t even tell them where they were taking her – and when we encounter her, a Templar is threatening her with Tranquillity and strongly implied sexual assault.

Wynne gave birth to a healthy baby boy, whom she was allowed one day with before he was taken into Chantry custody. The child, who was names Rhys, was taken to Lydes and from there transferred to the White Spire in Orlais when it was discovered that he, too, was a mage.

– World of Thedas I

They kidnapped a newborn baby and took him to a different damn country. It took decades, and fighting an archdemon, for Wynne to even get the chance to find him again.

Dulci de Launcet was lucky: she’s a noble, so she at least had letters and some general idea of where her kid was, but she hadn’t laid eyes on her son since he was six.

Yeah. Good fucking job, Chantry. You really solved the problem of powerful people coming to your door to abduct your children.

But while, yes, given the context of the letter I think the irony is best understood in relation to mages, I definitely think it can be expanded upon:

The demon had impersonated the human man who had bought her from the slavers that took her in after her father died. She’d had no idea back then who those kind men really were, only that they offered her food and a warm bed to sleep in. Then an even kinder man came to take her from them, and she found herself in his luxurious home and thought herself the luckiest girl in the entire alienage.

How very naive she had been. Count Dorian, as she learned her new master’s name to be, had been in search of an elven whore he could keep as a pet, something he could put in a pretty dress and bring with him on one of his many trips to the capital, like baggage.

– Dragon Age: The Calling

Ah, look. The exact scenario Grand Cleric Francesca was fear-mongering about. A little girl abducted, enslaved and sold to a nobleman who abused and tortured her. Yes, a mage-child as it happens, but that wasn’t apparent at the time. Fiona was vulnerable because she was an elf – an orphaned elf considered expendable by society.

“What they wish is irrelevant.” Celene turned and stalked away from the window. “I am already fighting a war on two fronts. I cannot be seen to fight a war on three.”

“Then don’t.” Briala rose, putting herself in Celene’s path. “Give them justice.”

“A lord for the death of an elf? I … damn this thing.”

With a quick jerk, Celene tore her mask from her face. Her face was flushed beneath, her eyes red from another night of little sleep. “Shall I declare the elves equal citizens before the Maker and the throne as well, while I’m at it?”

“Why not?” Briala took her own mask off, stealing a quick moment to steady herself. “Unless you don’t believe that, and I’m just a jumped-up kitchen slut you haven’t tired of yet.

– Dragon Age: The Masked Empire

Or here: a revolt that ends in genocide, and that begins because it is unthinkable that they arrest a nobleman for murdering an elf. The victim’s name was Lemet. He was killed shielding an eight-year-old boy who threw a rock at a carriage. And the boy said he did it because his mother had been murdered by Orlesian nobility:

“They killed my mother,” the boy said, pulling against Lemet’s grip.

“Be quiet.” Lemet looked back at the coach and heard its joints creak as the guards jumped down to the street. The driver would want to have that oiled, some part of Lemet’s mind noted.

“They can’t come down this street after what they did to her,” the boy insisted. “They can’t!”

– Dragon Age: The Masked Empire

Or this, where soldiers rob, rape and murder their own citizens in the midst of a civil war:

“Two days ago, Lady Seryl’s men rode in and cur down every man and woman working the fields. Killed our guards, killed everyone in the village square. When they finished killing the other soldiers, they fired arrows out onto the water, killed most of our boys in the boats. They took all the food they could find. They spent the night.” A collective flinch splashed across the crowd. “Said we had been assisting enemies of the throne, that this was a lesson to anyone who’d help Gaspard’s men.” At the last, his voice broke. “My lord, I don’t even know who Gaspard is.”

– Dragon Age: The Masked Empire

Or the serial killer who is repeatedly allowed to walk free because he’s a magistrate’s son, and he targets elven children. Or the elven boys who fled to the Qun because a guard raped their sister – no one would arrest him, so they took matters into their own hands.

And yes, of course, you see the exact same thing in Ferelden in the alienage.

I’m sure everyone feels so much safer now they’ve locked up all the mages.

Orlais’s crimes don’t excuse Tevinter’s. That’s where they went wrong with Dorian’s … painful dialogue on slavery. You can’t point to the horrors of Orlesian society and therefore suggest that the Tevinter slave trade is not that awful. It doesn’t work like that. What you can do, though, is say that Tevinter’s crimes don’t excuse Orlais’s – particularly when they tend to do exactly the same shit:

Slavery still thrives in Thedas, even if the trade has been outlawed. Who hasn’t heard the tales of poverty-stricken elves lured into ships by the prospect of well-paying jobs in Antiva, only to find themselves clapped in leg-irons once at sea? And humans fall prey to this, too.

If they’re lucky, they end up in Orlais, which has only “servants.” Most nobles treat them decently because they are afraid of admitting the truth. Orlesians go to great lengths to maintain the fiction that slavery is illegal.

Of course, the greatest consumer of slave labor is the Tevinter Imperium, which would surely crumble if not for the endless supply of slaves from all over the continent. There, they are meat, chattel. They are beaten, used as fodder in the endless war against the Qunari, and even serve as components in dark magic rituals.

—From Black City, Black Divine: A Study of the Tevinter Imperium, by Sister Petrine, Chantry scholar

– Slavery in the Tevinter Imperium

Fiona is not an anomaly: Orlais kidnaps and sells people into slavery, too.

And this makes sense. Fantasy always draws on the real world, even if they mix and match the cultures and historical periods a bit. So, just like in the real world, you generally have to take anything the wealthy and powerful say with a grain of salt.

The Chantry has a very specific, empire building, agenda. It makes much of problems that aren’t really problems (demons and abominations are not widespread threats, and both are poorly understood); it pins the blame for actual crises on oppressed groups (the Blight is in no way the fault of this random peasant mage from Antiva); it uses racism and religious intolerance to create in- and out-groups (elves [and dwarves, but we haven’t conquered them yet] are degenerate heathens who are preventing the Maker from returning).

As much as I love Dragon Age, what Bioware does sometimes that is … uncomfortable … to use a mild word, is that it lets the powerful rule the narrative. Inquisition is worst at this, because it presents strong voices for people like Cassandra and Cullen, who stick fairly close to the party line. And then it takes characters like Varric and Sera, and distances them from their own cultures … which is fine for individuals but awkward when we’re not letting Briala or Fiona say much either – and where the fuck is Sigrun? No one’s spoken for Orzammar’s casteless since Awakening. But it’s there, to some extent, in all the games.

So the point, always, is that mages and Circles are misdirection. Mages are scapegoats in the Chantry faith who are held responsible for all the bad things, and represent a pretend evil nobility that the Orlesian Chantry is keeping under control.

But the actual problems of this fantasy world are more or less the same as the problems of the real world: powerful nations dominate the continent and force others to bow to their whims and adopt their culture, because empires are just shit; the rich and powerful hoard all the rights to themselves, and can do damn near anything to the poor – particularly where the poor are part of a marginalised group.

What Orlais doesn’t want people to realise is that they are Tevinter. It was never the mages that were the problem, it was the absolute power the Tevinter magisters held over their slaves – a power now held mostly by the Orlesian nobility, who use it in pretty much the same way. Not exclusively, no: of course the nobility of other nations can be, and bloody are, evil fucks. But even there, the Chantry view helps to obscure the truth: you should be scared of empires and those who rule them. Much more scared than you are of a possessed mage.

#dragon age #Anonymous #cw: violence #cw: abuse #cw: rape #chantry critical

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ao3feed-handers · 6 years

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the abcs of loving anders

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2pOLFtX

by bokutoma

there are a lot more than 26 reasons to love anders, but there are only so many that varric can fit into one manuscript

Words: , Chapters: 1/26, Language: English

Fandoms: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age (Video Games)

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Categories: F/M

Characters: Female Hawke, Anders (Dragon Age), Justice Anders (Dragon Age), Justice (Dragon Age), Vengeance (Dragon Age), Isabela (Dragon Age), Varric Tethras, Merrill (Dragon Age), Fenris (Dragon Age), Bethany Hawke, Aveline Vallen, Bodahn Feddic, Sandal Feddic, Dulci de Launcet, Guillaume de Launcet, Fifi de Launcet, Babbette de Launcet, Lady Elegant (Dragon Age), Gascard DuPuis, Saemus Dumar, Marlowe Dumar, Leandra Hawke

Relationships: Anders/Female Hawke

Additional Tags: Alphabet Meme, soft anders, Anders Needs a Hug, Anders Positive, BAMF Anders, Canonical Character Death, Varric Tethras is a Good Friend, Isabela is a Good Friend, Sweet Merrill (Dragon Age), ugh i'm just SOFT, Broody Fenris (Dragon Age), i'm considering maybe either a flashback chapter or a nathaniel chapter, Minor Angst, Based on Songs, Non-Linear Narrative

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2pOLFtX

#handers #anders/f!hawke #f!handers #hawke/anders #dragon age 2 #IFTTT #ao3feed

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hollyand-writes · 5 years

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At Halamshiral during “Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts”:

Orlesian noblewoman 1: Are all the de Launcets here? Orlesian noblewoman 2: Maker, I hope not!

#wicked eyes and wicked hearts #halamshiral #dragon age #emile de launcet #dulci de launcet #dragon age: inquisition #dragon age inquisition #da:i #ambient dialogue #NPCs #screenshots #reblogging for fic research purposes

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daughter-of-the-prophet · 6 years

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Isolde

Race: Human

Gender: Female

Title: Arlessa

Family: - Arl Eamon Guerrin (husband)

- Connor Guerrin (son)

- Cailan Theirin (nephew)

- Rendorn Guerrin (father-in-law)

- Marina Aurum (mother-in-law)

- Rowan (sister-in-law)

- Teagan Guerrin (brother-in-law)

Voice: Louiza Patikas

Appearances: - Dragon Age: Origins

- Dragon Age II

Isolde is the wife of the renowned Arl Eamon Guerrin of Castle Redcliffe and the mother of their young son, Connor.

Background

Isolde originally hailed from Orlais but moved to Redcliffe in Ferelden when her father was assigned there as its new governor. Isolde's family didn't take to their new home and task very happily, aware that the nine previous Orlesian Arls of Redcliffe had been assassinated by the Banns - or beheaded by Emperor Reville; for failure, most likely.

Isolde met Eamon Guerrin - the rightful heir to the lands of Redcliffe controlled by her father - and became smitten with him because he was part of the resistance, even though it was her own family he opposed. Though her infatuation proved one-sided at the time, Isolde kept helping the resistance by passing on information. When the Orlesians were eventually driven out, Isolde elected to stay in Denerim with a cousin who'd married a Fereldan.

Six years after reclaiming his lands and title, Eamon once again crossed paths with Isolde on a trip to Denerim. The two started a relationship, and she returned with him to Redcliffe, where the two married. Their union was rather controversial, as some people believed Isolde to be an Orlesian spy. Long-buried gossip claiming Alistair to be Eamon's bastard son resurfaced, and Isolde became fixated on the idea of her husband's "proper Fereldan son". Eamon eventually sent Alistair to a monastery to spare his wife's feelings. Connor was born on an exceptionally warm afternoon and had the immediate affection of his father.

Involvement

Dragon Age: Origins

Unbeknownst to Eamon, Isolde has magic in her family, and this trait has been inherited by her son. In an attempt to keep Connor by her side (as he would be disinherited and sent to the Circle if his talents were discovered), she hires Jowan, an apostate mage, to teach her son, in secret, just enough to hide his abilities. One of Isolde's maids, Valena, believed Isolde was having an affair with Jowan, not being aware of Connor's magic.

However, due to his lack of training, Connor becomes possessed by a Desire Demon while trying to find a cure for his father, who had been poisoned by Jowan under Teryn Loghain Mac Tir's orders. Isolde and Connor both survive when Ilona and her companions travel to the Circle of Magi and ask the mages for aid in entering the Fade to kill the demon that was possessing Connor.

Dragon Age II

Isolde was invited as a guest of Duke Prosper to Chateau Haine. She dislikes Dulci de Launcet and interrupts Hawke's conversation with Teagan Guerrin to complain about her.

#dragon age #dragon age: origins #Isolde #Arlessa of Redcliffe #Ferelden Nobles #Guerrin Family #isolde guerrin

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servesorlais · 7 years

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Ever wanted to know who the ruler of a certain Orlesian city is? Need connections for your Orlesian OC, but weren’t sure where to start? Look no further! Here I have attempted to compile a list of the named & notable Orlesians found in the Dragon Age games, primarily those that are alive during the events of the games & tie-in novels ( although a few historical figures are also included for reference. ) Note that it only includes individuals; families that are referred to by the family name, but with no individuals singled out, are not included, nor are unnamed NPCs. Characters that live in Orlais but would likely identify with heritage from elsewhere are not included ( i.e. Josephine would be considered Antivan rather than Orlesian. ) Lastly, some characters may fit under more than one subheading, but are only listed once ( i.e. Gaspard is both royalty and a chevalier, but is only under the former heading. )

Shoutout to Erran for the Fereldan and DAO NPC List, which served as inspiration to compile a similar reference for Orlais. Given the scarcity of Orlesian blogs in the rp fandom, this won’t serve as a masterlist of rpers, but I can make a second list if that interests anyone!

List will be periodically updated, as it’s by no means complete yet! If you notice a particular character is missing, feel free to reblog and mention the name(s) in a comment / the tags on a reblog, or send it in a message. Reference a source if possible ( game, war table mission, book, etc. ) And with that ...

ROYALTY

Empress Celene Valmont – Empress of Orlais Grand Duke Gaspard de Chalons – Celene’s cousin Grand Duchess Florianne de Chalons – Gaspard’s younger sister Emperor Florian Valmont – Celene’s uncle, former Emperor Prince Reynaud Valmont – Celene’s father, Florian’s brother Duchess Clarisse de Montfort – Celene’s mother Duke Theodore de Chalons – Gaspard and Florianne’s father Princess Melisande Valmont – Gaspard and Florianne’s mother Calienne de Chalons – Gaspard’s wife King Meghren Dufayel – Former Orlesian King of Ferelden, cousin of Florian Emperor Judicael I – Florian’s father, Celene and Gaspard’s grandfather Emperor Judicael II – Florian’s older brother, Celene and Gaspard’s uncle

THE COUNCIL OF HERALDS

Duke Bastien de Ghislain – Vivienne’s lover, head of the Council of Heralds Duke Laurent de Ghislain – Duke of Ghislain following Bastien de Ghislain’s death Duke Prosper de Montfort – Duke of Montfort, one of Celene’s closest allies Duke Cyril de Montfort – Prosper’s son, youngest member of the Council of Heralds Duke Germain de Chalons – Gaspard’s uncle Marquis Etienne de Chevin – One of Celene’s closest allies, Marquis of Val Chevin Marquise Mantillon – “The Dowager” Comte Lothair Doucy – Member of the Council of Heralds Comtesse Solange Montbelliard – “The Silver Lady of Churneau”

NOBILITY

Duke Remache de Lydes – Ally of Gaspard’s Monette de Lydes – Duke Remache’s daughter, brought up in Chantry service Duchess Caralina de Lydes – Remache’s cousin Duke Stefan de Firmin – Lady Caralina’s husband, Duke of Val Firmin Lady Seryl – Lady of Jader, an ally of Celene Comte Pierre – Lord of Halamshiral, an ally of Celene Lord Mainserai – A nobleman of Halamshiral, known for his cruelness towards elves Lord Montsimmard – Chevalier and ally of Gaspard Lady Montsimmard – Friendly with the Circle of Magi in Montsimmard Evariste Lemarque, “Fairbanks” – Found caring for refugees of the civil war in the Emerald Graves Lord Esmeral Abernache – Hired by the Inquisition to appeal to the Templars in Therinfal Redoubt Arlessa Isolde – Married to Arl Eamon Guerrin, daughter of the Orlesian governer of Redcliffe during the Occupation Alban Poulin – Ruler of Sahrnia in Emprise du Lion Baron Edouard Desjardins – Friend of Josephine Montilyet’s father, given command of Suledin Keep with the Inquisition Baron Havard-Pierre d’Amortisan – Studies Thedosian beasts, author of numerous books on the subject Comtesse Lynette Dionne – Noblewoman who is requested to sponsor the Du Paraquettes, asks for news about her mage lover Gascard Dupuis – Orlesian noble blood mage living in Kirkwall Baron Arlange – Invited to Prosper de Montfort’s wyvern hunt Lady Couteau – Lady-in-waiting to Celene Lady Colombe – Lady-in-waiting to Celene Lady Fleur – Lady-in-waiting to Celene Lord Chancer de Lion – Trainer of the Champion specialization in Skyhold Lady Marcelette – Court historian in Halamshiral Marquis de Serault – Player-created character in The Last Court Marquis d’Alyons – Neighbor and rival of the Marquis of Serault Lord Remi Vascal – “The Black Fox,” noble who became a legendary thief and rogue Lady Servana de Montfort – The Black Fox’s lover, may have been a Circle mage Baron Arlange – Invited to Prosper de Montfort’s wyvern hunt Gascard Dupuis – Orlesian noble blood mage living in Kirkwall Comte Guillaume de Launcet – Nobleman living in Kirkwall Comtesse Dulci de Launcet – Wife of Comte Guillaume Emile de Launcet – Guillaume and Dulci’s son, a mage escaped from the Circle in Kirkwall Fifi & Babbette de Launcet – Emile’s sisters Ghyslain de Carrac – Nobleman living in Kirkwall whose wife Ninette goes missing Marquise DuRellion – Nobleman with claims to the land around Haven Comte Brevin de Chalons – Relative of Gaspard, sponsor of Michel de Chevin “The Baroness” – A blood mage, ruler of the Blackmarsh in Ferelden during the Occupation Lord Vincent Callier – General of Celene’s army, murdered by Thom Rainier Vicomtesse Elodie de Morreau – Friend of Vivienne, Josephine, and Leliana Lady Ducette Maron – Joins the Inquisition in Emprise du Lion disguised as a villager Lord Basile Maron – Ducette’s father, a minor noble Duchess Nicole de Val Montaigne – Head of the Orlesian Society for the Protection of Historic Architecture Duke Alvin Blanchard – Lord of Val Montaigne, ally of Florianne and the Venatori Duke Valere Fontaine – Claims to be indebted to Josephine Marquise Effiloche Bouffon – Ruler of Val Gamord in the Western Approach Comte Boisvert – A lord of Val Royeaux Lord Pel Harmond – A lord of Verchiel Leontine Pontival – Killed at Therinfal Redoubt Vicomte Tremane Pontival – Leontine’s aggrieved brother Comte Renald de Mourier – Distant relation of Celene’s Marquis de Courtemance – A rich nobleman in the Heartlands, discovered to be smuggling red lyrium to the nobility Judge Auld – Fond of hunting Minister Bellise – Royal minister, able to approve or deny noble titles Marquis Wiscotte – Nobleman in the Dales Lord Pierren DesRosier – From a traditional and old money family in Val Royeaux Lady Velise Thibault – Head of a new money family of wealthy merchants Celeste Thibault – Lady Velise’s daughter Jecin Leandre – Celeste Thibault’s lover Lady Eustache Richelieu – Known for proposing arranged marriages Comte Marius de Poisson – Interested in invading the Ylenn Basin near Verchiel Lady Cybile Maronn of Baisne – A minor but very wealthy noblewoman who plotted against Divine Justinia and was socially disgraced

CHEVALIERS

Ser Michel de Chevin – Celene’s champion Ser Bastien Proulx – Commander of Gaspard’s military forces Dame Jehan – Commander of Celene’s military forces Dame Fabienne – Chevalier under Jehan’s command in the Exalted Plains Ser Jean-Gaspard de Lydes – Brother of Duke Remache; revealed to be the bastard son of a travelling Grey Warden Ser Benoit du Lac – Aveline Vallen’s father Chevalier Ducet – A commander in the Imperial Army Chevalier Auguste – A chevalier who defected to join the Freemen of the Dales Ser Michel Lafaille – First Viscount of Kirkwall, drove out Qunari occupation in the Storm Age Ser Aveline – First female chevalier

BARDS

Leliana – Left Hand of the Divine Marjolaine – Leliana’s tutor and former lover Melcendre – Bard working for Gaspard de Chalons Katriel – An elven bard, Maric Theirin’s lover

ELVES

Briala – Spymaster and lover of Empress Celene Felassan – Seemingly Dalish elf, mentor of Briala Colette – Elven assistant to Professor Bram Kenric at the University of Orlais Threnn – A leader in the elven rebellion in Halamshiral Lemet – Threnn’s friend, a tradesman from Halamshiral whose death sparks a rebellion Erlina – Queen Anora’s handmaiden

MAGES

Vivienne de Fer – Court Enchanter to Celene Valmont Fiona – Grand Enchanter of the Circle of Magi, former Grey Warden Lienne de Montsimmard – Apostate, ally of Gaspard de Chalons Edmonde – First Enchanter of the White Spire in Val Royeaux Adrian – Part of the Libertarian Fraternity in the Circle of Magi First Enchanter Remille – First Enchanter of Kinloch Hold in Ferelden ZITHER! – Mage, minstrel, and Inquisition agent

WARDENS

Clarel de Chanson – Warden-Commander of Orlais Jean-Marc Stroud – Former chevalier, Inquisition’s warden contact Warden-Commander Caron – Human Warden-Commander of Ferelden Warden-Commander Andras – Elf Warden-Commander of Ferelden Warden-Commander Kader – Dwarf Warden-Commander of Ferelden Fontaine – predecessor of Clarel de Chanson Genevieve – Warden-Commander before Fontaine Bregan – Genevieve’s brother, Warden-Commander before her Guy – Genevieve’s fiancé Julien – An Orlesian human Warden, Nicolas’s lover Nicolas – An Orlesian human Warden, Julien’s lover

OTHER

Bonny Sims – Inquisition merchant Belle – Inquisition merchant Corporal Rosselin – Soldier in Gaspard’s army in the Exalted Plains Chancellor Jurgen Haulis – Head of the University of Orlais in Val Royeaux Cedric Marquette – A professor at the University, specializes in archaeology Frederic de Serault – Dragonologist studying in the Western Approach Hubert Bartiere – Orlesian merchant, owner of the Bone Pit in Kirkwall Lieutenant Suzanne Cloche-sec – Inquisition agent Clara – A farmer driven off her land by the Freemen of the Dales in the Emerald Graves Gertrude – A merchant, taken captive by the Freemen of the Dales Maliphant – General of the Freemen of the Dales in the Emerald Graves Duhaime – A commander of the Freemen of the Dales in the Emerald Graves Sister Costeau – A leader of the Freemen of the Dales Willvan – A book merchant in Val Royeaux Pierre-Marie – Merchant in Val Royeaux Liselle – A merchant from Val Royeaux who fled to Denerim with her brother after being assaulted by a chevalier Jovi Merice – Fled Orlais to Denerim after making accusations about Orlesian nobles Argent – Formerly an assassin hired by nobles, now works for the Inquisition

CHANTRY & TEMPLARS

Divine Justinia – Head of the Chantry Mother Giselle – Revered Mother in Jader’s Chantry Mother Renette – Serves in Lydes’ Chantry, tutor to Monette de Lydes Mother Hevara – Revered Mother in Val Royeaux, candidate for Divine Mother Anette – Val Foret Chantry Sister Natalie – Chantry sister, opposes Leliana Sister Andrea – Sister in Val Royeaux Sister Antoinette – Sister in Val Royeaux Lord Seeker Lambert van Reeves – Head of the Seekers Lord Seeker Lucius Corin – Assumes lead of the Seekers after Lambert’s death Knight-Captain Evangeline de Brassard – Knight-Captain at the White Spire in Val Royeaux Knight-Captain Fornier – One of the Red Templars in Emprise du Lion Lieutenant Coutte – Another Red Templar in Emprise du Lion

#what ... do i even tag this as.#besides ' my baby. my labor of love '#reference .#... that'll do

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