#eleanor amaranthine

[kathrynalicemc]

Fankidsaw23 | Day 2: Favorite Duo | By @endlessly-cursed

Of course I had to do the Immortal Twins! Ignore the part where they are each others mortal nemesis and have been killing each other over 400 years 🤡 besides that, they have one of my fav aesthetics. Luckily, this one somehow doesn’t have blood or fire in it!

#hphm #hpma #hphl #fankidsaw23 #immortal twins #eleanor amaranthine #eme amaranthine

[phoenixresistance]

The Phoenix Archives

Entry 1 - Silent Night

Semele belongs to @endlessly-cursed 💕

London, England - December 17th, 1997

She watched as the snow fell gently outside the living room window in the darkness of the evening. It was completely silent, the only sounds that could be heard was the resonant ticking of a grandfather clock on the opposite side of the room and her own quiet breaths.

She had white hair and her face was wrinkled from the passage of time, over eighty years in fact. The woman currently rocked back and forth in her rocking chair. Her eyes wandered around the room taking in the familiar sights of her house. The Christmas tree was the only source of light in the darkened room, its warm lights throwing a dim halo of light onto the nearby cold and empty fireplace. Dozens of picture frames were strewn across the mantle above it, the smiling faces of the woman’s children and grandchildren looking down at her. Her eyes then darted towards the front door, a gleaming golden wreath peeking back at her through the frosted glass.

The woman was alone in the house tonight as her family were away on holiday. She would normally be in bed at this time. However, tonight was different. Tonight she sat and waited.

The time passed slowly and silently. The rhythmic ticking of the clock and the dancing flurry of the snow lulled her. The clock read ten minutes past nine when the woman’s breaths slowed and her eyes drooped. The darkness took hold for what felt like forever and also no time at all. Before long, the grandfather clock chimed the new hour. The deep echoes stirred her from her sleep, her eyes flicking open and closed repeatedly as she roused.

It was a few seconds before she noticed the change within the dark room. A shadowed figure now stood in front of the fireplace, his back to the woman as he inspected the pictures.

Not even the darkest shadows could conceal the identity of this man from the woman. His long white hair shone through the darkness, mirroring her own.

“Hello, my daughter,” his deep voice finally broke the peaceful silence of the evening seconds before he turned around to face her.

A chill ran down her spine as her fathers cold eyes met hers. His face was sharp and handsome and had none of the wrinkles hers had. The last time she saw him was nearly fifty years ago and yet he was identical. It was like looking at a memory of the past.

“I knew you were coming,” Esmee Amaranthine’s voice was hoarse as she spoke to her father.

Eme answered with a deep chuckle, his hand raising up in the air as his eyes scanned the photo he currently held.

“Cute family. A shame you didn’t invite me to the wedding.”

“I would have, but you were too busy that day being locked up in Azkaban. And every day since.”

A chuckle escaped Eme’s lips, or was it a hiss? His mouth curled into a smirk but there was a hint of annoyance and anger behind his usually indifferent eyes.

“When I finally arrested you and threw you in there, I always knew it wouldn’t hold you forever.”

“It was a worthy attempt. You even went so far as to recruit your children and grandchildren to your cause. I recognized them instantly when they would come for inspections.”

“I guess fighting you runs in the family. Aunt Eleanor would agree,” Esmee replied flatly.

A silence stretched out again, the ticking of the clock taking over the room. Esmee took in her fathers face, her mind predicting what he would say next.

“They are far away from here. Don’t even think you could find them, I hid them well.”

“I guess we’ll see about that,” he shrugged coolly and placed the frame back on the mantle.

“You don’t scare me, you know. You never did. I knew you were coming for me. I’ve had fifty years to make peace with it,” Esmee stated, her eyes trailing one last time around her house. The Christmas decorations twinkled brightly, giving her comfort. Her eyes lingered for just a few seconds on the pictures behind Eme. “If you are going to do it, then do it.”

“Oh, you don’t get to rush this,” Eme grinned as he walked forward, his hand reaching into his coat.

The North Sea - Twelve Hours Earlier, December 17th

Eleanor watched Azkaban disappear into the horizon from her position on the deck of the Jörmungandr as they raced away. She didn’t know where they were going, but she almost wished she was still in there.

“What’s wrong? I thought you would be glad to be away from that hellhole,” Kaari called out from his spot at the bow of the ship.

“You have no idea what you have done,” she muttered, her hoarse voice almost lost over the crashing of the waves.

“What do you mean?”

“My brother. They will release him and he will come after me.”

“He will have to find us first.”

Eleanor could tell there was fear in his eyes that he tried to hide with a smile. She was good at reading people.

The ride was quiet after that, Kaari taking occasional worried glances at his passenger. It wasn’t until a few hours had passed that Eleanor’s tormented and confused mind started to remember the events before her capture.

“Wait! Do you know anyone named Esmee by any chance?”

“Esmee? I don’t believe I know her. Unless you are talking about that gorgeous redhead I met in a pub once,” Kaari grinned before seeing the scowl on Eleanor’s face. “But I doubt you are.”

“No, she would be around eighty or so. I don’t even know if she is still alive, but if she is you need to find her immediately. She needs protection.”

“What, why? Who is she?”

“It doesn’t matter. Just make sure she’s safe. Eme would want to kill her when he gets out.”

“Alright. Once we get to Skalafell I’ll contact the Resistance and get someone to find her.”

However, Eleanor didn’t look convinced. She hardly knew this man and put no trust in this Resistance. She owed them nothing for breaking her out so who’s to say he would keep his word?

Skalafell, Norway - December 17th, 1997, 6:38 PM

The wooden floorboards creaked under his boots as Kaari Arcano quickly dashed towards the fireplace in the kitchen of the Arcano house. With a flourish of his hand and a wave of his wand in the other, floo powder hit the stones and ignited. The flames roared from green into a scarlet red as the magic from Kaari’s wand activated a spell. Only a few seconds passed before the flames shifted and formed a face he knew all too well.

The beautiful face of Semele Thorne stared back at him through the blaze. He had to admit, she was twice as attractive when her lips and eyes were made of crimson fire.

“Calling me back so soon, Arcano? Once wasn’t enough for you? I thought you only did flings. I must have really made an impact on you,” she teased with a playful smile.

“This is strictly business, Ms Thorne. I have a job for you.”

Semele’s eyebrows shot up at the formal address, “Is that right? Why come to me?”

“Let’s just say I trust in your skill set. You are one of the most skilled people in combat and information gathering I’ve ever met. Well, besides me of course,” he added with a smirk at the end, dropping the formality and giving in to her charm so he could flirt for just a second.

“You flatter me, Arcano,” she replied with a sarcastic swoon.

“I should warn you, there is a chance you might run into a very dangerous individual. Do not engage with him under any circumstances. This is strictly a locate and retrieve mission.”

“Got it.”

“In fact, you don’t have to take the mission if you don’t feel comfortable with it. This man should not be underestimated. You will die if you fight him,” Kaari’s face suddenly became serious.

“I’m in,” Semele didn’t hesitate. “So who’s the priority?”

Esmee’s House, London, England - December 17th, 1997, 10:15 PM

The house was dark as Semele Thorne waited in the shadows across the street. Her sharp eyes narrowed and scanned her regular scouting pattern. There were no lights or signs of movement inside, nor anything similar on the nearby houses. The front door was closed and so were the windows. There was no obvious damage to any part of the house. No people walked along the street. Now was her chance.

She slipped out from her hiding place and briskly crossed the street, her head down and hands in her pockets as she tried to remain discreet. She would jump the fence and loop around to the back of the house and enter from there.

A few seconds later, after deftly unlocking the window with a wave of her wand, she found herself standing in a darkened kitchen. Semele waited and listened for any sounds of movement within the house but all she heard was silence. So she decided to enter the next room.

“Fuck,” she breathed, barely a whisper to break the silence.

A figure sat slumped in the rocking chair on the far side of the living room. Even from this distance and in low light, Semele’s deft eyes could still see the trails of blood down the woman’s face.

Immediately, her wand came out and she scanned the room top to bottom and left to right. Once she was certain she was truly alone, she quietly crept closer to the woman.

This was indeed Esmee Amaranthine. She was too late to save her. Blood dripped from her eyes, nose, and ears but there was no other obvious sign of injury. Semele knew this was indicative of the cruciatus curse. She was tortured with extreme pain until the stress on her system killed her. The blood itself was still bright red and fresh, so she must have just missed it.

Semele sighed deeply, shaking her head and hanging it remorsefully. What a terrible way to go. Kaari was right, the man who did this was dangerous.

She stood up and looked around the room again, this time taking in the small details of the woman’s personal life. The elegant grandfather clock ticked away as Semele looked upon the faces in the photos. Esmee had a wonderful and full life by the looks of it.

A thought struck her and Semele grabbed a picture frame, the same Eme once held only minutes ago. She flipped it over in her hand and undid the back, pulling the photo from its frame. She smiled as she found the names of the people within the photograph inscribed upon the back in loopy cursive handwriting.

Semele put the frame back down and tucked the picture safely into her coat pocket. She would report Esmee’s fate to the Resistance and then try to locate her family. They deserved to know.

Then, as quickly and quietly as she arrived, Semele Thorne left the house and disappeared into the cold winter night.

#the phoenix resistance #hphm #the phoenix archives #hogwarts mystery #tpr #tpa #esmee amaranthine #semele thorne #eme amaranthine #kaari arcano #eleanor amaranthine

[illusivesoul]

Knowing the lore of Rendon and Bryce makes the whole human noble origin hit different

#rendon howe #couslands #bryce cousland #dragon age #dragon age memes #dragon age meme #illusivedits #illusivesouledits #eleanor cousland #fergus cousland #human noble origin #highever #amaranthine #ferelden #dragon age origins #dao #da:o #da: o

[plumbitch]

Faces of the Dragon Age

Warden-Commander of the Grey Wardens of Ferelden, Madeleine Clarice Cousland (blue): “Only daughter of Teryn Bryce and Teryna Eleanor Cousland, she survived the brutal assault at Castle Cousland and found a place with the Grey Wardens at Ostagar. Alongside her commander, she aided in putting an end to the Fifth Blight and was awarded the honorary title of ‘Hero of Ferelden’ for her role. After the Blight, she became the Arlessa of Amaranthine in conjunction with serving as the second in command of the Grey Wardens of Ferelden. She eventually stepped down from her role as arlessa in order to take up full responsibilities as Warden-Commander of Ferelden’s Grey Wardens.”

The Champion of Kirkwall, Lydia Hawke (red): “The daughter of a noble woman and an apostate, Lady Hawke knew humble beginnings before the threat of the Blight fell upon her family and forced them to flee Ferelden. Despite it being the seat of Templar power in the east, family greeted the Hawkes in Kirkwall and it was in the tumultuous city that Lady Hawke made her name--first through a bond built between herself and Varric Tethras, then again when she emerged the victor in one-on-one combat against the Arishok of the Qun. Following the breakdown of Chantry power and the dissolution of the Circles, she was found again working with the Inquisition until she returned to Kirkwall.”

The Second Inquisitor, Helena Alexandra de Rochefort-Trevelyan (green): “The only daughter of Bann Regis Trevelyan and his late wife, Charlize, she is the younger of the twin children of the Trevelyan ruling family but was taken to the Circle at the age of ten. Among the survivors of the Ostwick Circle, she was chosen to attend the peace summit at the Conclave which was later destroyed, leaving her the sole survivor. She stayed with the Inquisition founded on the late divine’s order and eventually was chosen as the Second Inquisitor. Two years after the end of Corypheus and the final sealing of the Breach, she disbanded the Inquisition and lords over a small stead by the name of Perseverance with her husband.“

The Unknown (For Now), Lady Shehdri Ziani (purple): “The child of Magister Thraesus Obarin and Madame Adeya Djedan Ziani, she is the favored of his children. Her magic sources from both a powerful bloodline in Tevinter and that of a mother with deep connection to the roots of old magic born of Rivain, making her quite the attractive pick to take control of her father’s seat if only he would be forthcoming about which of his children he intends to place within it. The interests that she holds to her heart of the academic variety, save for the moments where they wander to the more boisterous and lively splendors of her hometown. She is not yet in the minds and faces of the greater public. Perhaps that will change soon...”

#the sims #the sims 4 #simblr #ts4 #ts4 simblr #s4 #sims #sim: lydia #sim: Helena #sim: shehdri #sim: madeleine

[anneapocalypse]

Anne's Dragon Age Fic

Stuff I've written! Favorites at the top, full list below the cut. Please check the tags on AO3 for warnings and additional content notes.

🐝 A Pot to Piss In ���A Sera backstory fic. Also featuring Lady Emmald, Shianni, Alarith, Slim Couldry, and the Friends of Red Jenny. 41,000 words, rated M.

👑 No Woman Rules Alone 👑 Anora/Female Tabris. Warden Tabris convinced Anora and Alistair to marry for the good of Ferelden, to unite the lands against the darkspawn. They have settled into a functional partnership and even friendship, but there is no love between them and they both know it. Over time, Anora finds that it is the Warden-Commander and Arl of Amaranthine who has won not only her respect, but her heart. 34,000 words, rated E

🏹 A Hero Sleeps in Gwaren 🏹 A Briala/Female Tabris longfic. In progress, not yet posted! See snippets and updates here.

Gen Fics

Someone Else's Story. Varric & Female Hawke, 1600 words, rated G. Varric anxiously awaits news after the events at Adamant.

Friendly Concern. Varric & Fenris, background Fenris/Hawke, 975 words, rated T. Fenris is drinking in public. Varric knows something's wrong.

Objects of Wonder. Lorien Lavellan & Sera, 800 words, rated T. Lorien and her friend find some unexpected common ground.

F/F

Gifts of the Hunt. Female Mahariel/Morrigan, 13K, rated M. Lyna Mahariel follows Morrigan through the eluvian, leaving behind her life with the Wardens and with her Dalish clan. With only each other, Morrigan's child, and the magic of a long-forgotten past, what kind of future will the two of them have together?

What We Can Do Together. Shianni/Briala, 2000 words, rated T. Briala has never called her away from Denerim before, so Shianni can only assume this is important.

In Darkness Enveloped. Cassandra/Leliana, 1800 words, rated E. The Conclave is destroyed. The Divine is dead. The Left Hand and Right Hand are at odds, and at loose ends. It's the worst of times. It's certainly the worst possible time for this.

Herald's Rest. Eleanor Trevelyan/Sera, 370 words, rated M. The Inquisitor finds a respite with her lover.

F/M

Warden's Retreat. Ilana Tabris/Zevran, 3200 words, rated E. After the festivities in Denerim, the Warden finally gets some alone time with Zevran at Soldier's Peak--though not without a moment of regret.

Looking Forward. Fenris/Alessandra Hawke, 1800 words, rated T. Hawke is not well. Merrill pays a visit.

Regret. Fenris/Alessandra Hawke, 1200 words, rated T.

Far From Home. Fenris/Alessandra Hawke, 400 words, rated G. On the run from Kirkwall, home is where Hawke is.

M/M

For You, Anywhere. Male Mahariel/Tamlen, 1900 words, rated T. Theron Mahariel finds his lost companion in the last place he expects.

A Certain Resemblance. Dorian/Male Adaar, 650 words, rated T. "Look, nobody's saying it," the Inquisitor says, setting down his waterskin with purpose, "but we're all thinking it."

Poems & Songs

Fear Not (Chasind Lullaby). Written as a part of Gifts of the Hunt.

Spindleweed. It is an old country saying that spindleweed grows best for the sorrowful.

The Night Streets. A lone hero wanders the streets at night. Hints of Male Hawke/Anders.

gently, lethallin. Merill/Male Hawke, unrequited. A caution to a charismatic hero.

---

I have also written for Red vs. Blue, Fallout, The Penumbra Podcast, Mass Effect, RWBY, and a few other fandoms, all of which you can find on my AO3.

Thanks for reading!

#pinned post #annefiction

[scriptores]

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 : fergus cousland, dragon age: origins

overview: as the eldest son of house cousland ( the ruling family of the teyrnir of highever ), fergus was sent to ostagar on a scouting mission to assist king cailan's efforts against the coming blight. in his absence, arl howe laid siege on the cousland castle, killing fergus' parents, as well as his wife and child. only his sister, alys, escaped the attack, but was conscripted into the grey warden order as a result and likewise sent to ostagar. fergus had been reported missing shortly before the battle, and for weeks he was presumed dead. however, his scouting unit had been ambushed and fergus was found by a chasind who tended him in his lengthy recovery. it was not until the land's meet that fergus was finally able to reunite with his sister and learn of his family's fate. after she ended the blight, fergus took his place as teyrn of highever, and hopes to rebuild his fallen house.

verses

main : for all plots centered around the games. i'm pretty open to playing around with different scenarios and aus (i.e. fergus being picked up as a companion in origins, rescued by someone else in the wilds, considered as an option for king / a marriage to anora during the landsmeet -- which he will loathe you for -- etc. ) but unless plotted otherwise, the default is that he becomes teyrn, his sister is the arlessa of amaranthine, and he enters an arranged marriage with evelyn trevelyan ( @verdraste who is also my default inquisitor, unless ofc i'm writing with other non-trevelyan inquisitors ).

fantasy : very easy to drop fergus and house cousland in any fantasy setting !! so this may be the primary choice. the gist remains relatively the same. his land is on the stormy coast of whatever country applies, and default is that his family is recognized as being second in power to the crown, or close to it. they're known for their highly adept soldiers (great for muses who need allies & reinforcements!), strong network of spies, and breeding and raising mabari warhounds. more than likely, fergus succeeded his father due to a similar tragedy, but we can play it by ear.

regency / bridgerton : fergus is the eldest son of the duke of highever. given his family's legacy in the military, he voluntarily fought in the battle of waterloo, but sustained an injury that left him incapacitated and unable to return home for a few months. during his recovery, his estate was infiltrated by an unknown murderer who killed his parents, but luckily did not find his sister. upon his return home, fergus steps in as the new duke, and is being pressured into finding a wife soon. understandably, this is currently the last thing on his mind. he's besties with benedict and anthony ( when he isn't being a buzzkill <3 ).

dossier

name. fergus cousland titles. teyrn of highever (addressed as "lord cousland") pronouns. he/him age. 27 (da:o), 37-40 (da:i) origin/nationality. ferelden etymology. human noble / warrior of the champion class sexuality. bisexual alignment. lawful good, fealty to the ferelden crown or his sister

relations. alys cousland (sister, @ladygriffon), bryce cousland (father, deceased), eleanor cousland (mother, deceased), oriana cousland (first wife, deceased), oren cousland (son, deceased)

height. 6'1" build. herculean, defined but not chiseled; strong like a bear, not a pretty statue; just enough softness to make for an excellent hugger (also he has great tits idc idc) hair. dark brown, curly eyes. hazel, variety of browns and honey tones scars. riddled with them. he's a tank; it's his duty to battle in the frontlines and take critical hits. his body is a testament to this. he wears them with pride, aside from the worst one: a large crescent shaped gash across his abdomen from the battle of ostagar. he had to cauterize the wound to avoid bleeding out. the chasind took care of the rest when they found him, but not even magic could heal it all the way. scents. petrichor, sea salt and cypress

known languages: ferelden, and most other languages from across thedas. it was required in his noble studies, but frankly he is sorely embarrassed to admit he has not retained most of them and will butcher the conversation on more than a few accounts. his avvar is pretty great though, thanks to aerick, an exiled avvar/highever guardsman, originally from kirkwall, who mentored him through his youth. (also asteria's father, but more on that in a different post)

abilities / skillset. * weapons master. proficient with most weapons (i.e., shields, halberds, crossbrows, axes & mauls). he'll often carry 2-3 depending on the situation and his position in the battlefield, but his sword is the most consistent choice. dual wielding it with a shield or a maul crafted in the shape of two mabari jaws is his other consistent choice.

* great tactician. by the time we get to da: origins, fergus pretty much functions as a commander in his father's stead. he led the forces of the northern ferelden banns and strategized the battle alongside king cailan, loghain and duncan.

* superior survival skills. again thanks to aerick, but, as an outdoorsman who hated being cooped up in the castle, these lessons were mainly through fergus' insistence. he's always taken a great interest in hunting, as well as aerick's avvar roots, so aerick would sometimes oblige fergus and his friends by guiding them through long hunting treks in the mountains, to learn how to hunt, set traps, and survive more practically in tougher terrains. eventually, he made a habit of frequently hiking at his own leisure despite protests from his mother, so at this point you can throw him in the middle of anywhere and he'll be quite capable and adaptable.

* basic nautical skills. thanks to his oh-so-fun summer weeks spent with grandpa fearcher on a warship :))) old man put your boy through it, but he came out with callouses a plenty, knowing the basics of rigging, how to tie excellent knots, star navigation, etc. restrictions. * speed. he is meant to be a powerhouse, and is fast but only to a degree. when faced with someone of the rogue class, this could very well be to his detriment if he can't manage to get in a good hit that knocks them into next week.

* post battle of ostagar. his right leg was broken and poorly set when he was found by the chasind, and while healed, it does still fail on him if he exerts himself too hard. he also suffers from ptsd which can be triggered during a confrontation and compromise his focus. his combat days are much more limited because of this, but he's still a tactician and inspires high morale in the ranks where he can.

* politics. he hates everything about it. while a warm and generally charming person, he cannot abide to be disingenuous and lacks the patience to engage in shallow or false conversations. he's a man, guided by his heart, who acts more quickly than he thinks and will often be brutally honest if there's someone or something he doesn't like. regardless of political consequence. one of the reasons why alys was thought to be better suited for the role of teyrna.

themes. through me (the flood), hozier

#⚔️ profile: fergus

[phillipsgraves]

17 + dreas die

17. a description of your OC’s family by a future historian

Much of the Cousland family history was lost during the siege of the castle, burned and lost forever to time when the library was burned down. Fortunately, through the efforts of the Hero of Ferelden, one Andreas Cousland, and the family scribe, a young woman named Ceridwen Pembroke, their family's legacy would not be completely lost to time.

The Teyrnir of Highever, once a part of the Arling of Amaranthine, and now the ancestral home of the Couslands, has stood the test of time throughout the Ages. Since the death of Bann Conobar Elstan, the land has since been claimed by the captain of the guard, one Ser Sarim Cousland, and the land has been in the Cousland family's control ever since.

In more recent times, Highever had been under the watchful gaze of two of Ferelden's remaining teyrns, Teyrn Bryce and Tyrna Eleanor Cousland, up until the usurption of the traitorous Arl Rendon Howe and the following siege against Castle Cousland. They are survived by their four children; Fergus, Andreas, Elissavet, and Diantha Cousland.

Presently, Highever's day to day is closely supervised by the eldest Cousland, Teyrn Fergus. Twins Andreas and Elissavet are never far apart, though their duties as Warden-Commander and Queen, respectively, occasionally separate them at times. Diantha is very often seen in the Orlesian palace, maintaining diplomatic ties between the kingdom and Highever.

— An excerpt from In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi

#here take this #oc: andreas cousland #my writing #technically? #asks #jendoe

[lifeofkaze]

The Phoenix Resistance - Book 2, Epilogue

Legacy

To my dear hysterical, germaphobic, stuck-up, stress-cleaning potion whiz: You were never meant to be, then you were meant to fill a role you didn't want, and in the end you completely made your own path and turned out to be just as badass (if not more) than the rest. Happy Birthday, Mina gal 💚💚💚

A/N: This chapter was written as part of the @phoenixresistance project. Kaari Arcano and the Amaranthine twins (latter in mention) belong to @kathrynalicemc. Ellie Hopper (in mention) belongs to @thatravenpuffwitch. Thank you to everybody who has read this (and my contributions to) this amazing story, as well as @kathrynalicemc for coming up with the idea in the first place. What a ride!

  Pendle Forest, Lancashire - June 1998, 10.00 am 

Despite the Wizarding world having turned upside down with the defeat of Lord Voldemort and the overthrowing of his regime, summer had come to the UK as if nothing had changed. 

Mina stopped at the border of her family’s grounds in the middle of the rolling hills of Pendle Forest, breathing in the scent of grass and field flowers. Frequent showers of rain alternating with sunny periods had turned the trees and meadows to a lush green beneath a bright blue, cloudless sky. Her eyes lingered on the shape of Pendle Hill dominating the view of the valley she’d grown up in, like generations of Pendletons had before her. She had to think about Eleanor and Eme, the immortal twins who had finally found their peace. 

Shaking the sudden feeling of melancholy, Mina passed the magical barrier and made her way up the gravelled driveway to the Pendleton Estate. Her parents and grandparents would undoubtedly be making the most of the weather and enjoy the shade somewhere in the spacious gardens, but the one she actually wanted to see Mina found in the conversatory, just like she had expected. 

Carolyn Pendleton was sitting in a cushioned wicker chair by the open glass doors, looking at the sunny gardens outside. A single lock of her hair - once as blonde Mina’s but now greyed by age - had fallen from her otherwise immaculate updo and was stirring gently in the summer breeze. When she heard Mina approach, a brief smile flickered over her face.

“Welcome, child,” she said and extended her hand, indicating for Mina to sit down in the chair facing her. “You’ve come home, at last.”

Mina sat across from her great-grandmother, wringing her hands in her lap in silence. Carolyn raised an inquisitive eyebrow; like always, she didn’t care to waste time on pleasantries.

“What is it that you want to tell me?” 

Her voice wasn’t sharp by any means, but Mina startled nonetheless. Sensing her distress, Carolyn’s demeanour softened. “Don’t be frightened, älskling. Speak your mind.”

Mina swallowed and took a deep breath. “It’s about the apothecary,” she said miserably and hung her head, “it got burned down. It’s all gone.”

“But I know that,” Carolyn said with mild impatience in her voice. “It was in the Daily Prophet weeks ago. You didn’t need to come here and tell me.”

“No, of course,” Mina hurried to say, “but I figured I should tell you personally. That I’m sorry, I mean. I’m sorry I let it happen and that I couldn’t stop it and that I just vanished instead of having the guts to come here and tell you and…” 

When Mina saw her great-grandmother’s eyebrows rise higher and higher at her gush of words, she immediately fell silent. “What I want to say is, I’m sorry,” she repeated in a very small voice.

Carolyn looked at Mina for a long moment before she turned her head to the side. Mina followed her gaze to the red-and-white amaryllis flower sitting on the side table next to Carolyn’s chair. She had to think about Ava but quickly pushed the thought aside as Carolyn extended her hand and gently touched the soft petals. 

“Worth isn’t defined by size or impact,” she said softly and laid her hand beneath the blossom, raising it slightly so that the sunlight was shining down on it, “it’s defined by what it means to the ones remembering it. What it leaves behind.”

Her words were meant to comfort Mina, but instead they made her conscience even heavier. “The shop was what you’re been leaving behind but because of me it’s gone. Everything is burned to ash, all your work, your recipes, everything. You trusted me to keep them safe and I didn’t. You must be so disappointed in me.”

Carolyn frowned, making Mina sink deeper into her seat. “What are you talking about? They were just some ancient scraps of parchment, nothing more.” She tapped her finger against her temple and smirked. “They’re all still up here. If you really think I have forgotten them, I would indeed be disappointed in you.”

Confused, Mina blinked. “But the shop… it was your legacy.”

Carolyn dismissed her with an impatient flick of her hand. “The shop was the bane of your great-grandfather’s life until we tore it down and built it anew. Don’t you see it, älskling?” she added and the wrinkles around her eyes deepened as she smiled at Mina. “The shop has never been my legacy. You are.” 

Mina froze and stared at the woman she had admired her entire life. 

“Me?” she whispered with a shaky voice.

“None of my children ever matched my talent. Some came close, but you were the first to understand what it truly means to be a potioneer. That’s why I put my trust in you.” Carolyn reached out and covered Mina’s hand with hers, the emerald ring she always wore on her left hand flashing in the sunflight. “My path has led to you. And now it is time for you to go and follow your own.”

Diagon Alley, London - July 1998, 1.00 pm

Slowly but surely, normality had begun to creep back into everyone’s lives and the streets of Diagon Alley were as crowded as they always were during the summer break. There were still building sites and abandoned shops, but their number was growing less with every passing day.

The latest business to reopen had been the new ice cream shop on the main street.  Every seat inside and outside of Madam Isabella’s Ice Cream Emporium was filled and the queue lining up for a sweet refreshment was the longest Mina had ever seen. She walked past it, however; she had no time to stop for a treat. 

Amongst the people enjoying the warm weather were the familiar faces of Ellie Hopper and her husband. When they spotted her, the three of them shared a brief nod of recognition. None of them was quite ready to deal with everything that had happened just yet; Mina wasn’t sure, if she ever would be. 

She left the bustling main street and walked down the alley towards the ruins of her old home; only that they weren’t ruins anymore. The charred remains of Pendleton’s Potions & Apothecary had been removed and a new building was standing in its place - shiny, clean and ready for a new occupant. The first pieces of equipment were arriving today and Mina watched as they were being carried into the new shop.

“You have a strange taste in furniture,” the familiar voice of Kaari Arcano suddenly sounded behind her. Mina turned and saw him leaning casually against a wrought-iron lantern post. He walked over to her and inspected a particularly large cage that was being levitated inside with an amused gleam in his eyes. “Or is there something I ought to know about you?”

Mina rolled her eyes at him. “You could do with being locked up for a week or two. But obviously this stuff isn’t for me. It’s for the new shop.”

Kaari raised his eyebrows. “Strange decor for a potions shop.”

“I never said it was going to be my shop,” Mina smiled. “A magical menagerie is moving in,” she clarified when she saw Kaari’s astounded look.

“You’re not reopening then?”

“No,” Mina said and shook her head, the ends of her hair brushing over her bare shoulders; she’d let it grow out since the end of the war. “I don’t think that’s a life I can go back to. It’s time to leave the beaten paths.”

“What are you going to do then?”

Mina shrugged. “I don’t know yet. See where the road will take me.” A smile played around her lips as she watched the new shop sign being hoisted up above the entrance. “There’s more to life than living other people’s dreams. Somewhere out there is my own calling, I just need to go and find it.”

“Well, if your calling should happen to take you to the most superior part of Scandinavia, let me know,” Kaari grinned and tried to nudge her with his elbow, but Mina sidestepped him with a laugh.

“What would you be doing in Sweden?” 

Kaari chuckled. “I mean it. If you’re ever around Fossan or Skalafell, just say the word. You’re always going to have a place in my home.”

“Are you going to clean beforehand?”

“Maybe superficially.”

“That’s as good as it gets, I guess.” 

Mina let Kaari draw her into a tight hug before he stepped back, raising a hand in goodbye and walking away. She looked up to the sky and smiled to herself as she saw the almost invisible shape of Ryoko glide across the sky until he, too, was gone.

The North Sea - August 1998, 6.30 am

Standing on the prow of the ship, Mina gripped the railing tightly as it ploughed through the dark waves of the North Sea. Ahead of her the first rays of a new day were painting the rocks and wooden houses of the Swedish coast in a fiery golden colour that made her heart beat faster in her chest. 

Shortly after she had said goodbye to Kaari, Mina had left first London and then England behind. Saying goodbye to her family for an indefinite amount of time had been difficult, but deep inside, Mina knew it had been the right thing to do. 

Considering that Ava had almost met her demise during the Battle of Hogwarts, leaving her had been the hardest choice for Mina to make. She was far from being recovered - mentally and physically - and Mina had offered to stay more than one time, but Ava hadn’t wanted her to. Both of them had to find a place of their own in this shining new world. 

Six months ago she would never have dreamed that she’d be standing on a ship, the spray in her face and the wind whipping at her hair, her heart fluttering at the thought of everything that was lying ahead of her. She had been caged by the rigid and uneventful life she had made herself believe she’d wanted. But if the war had taught her anything, it was that nothing was certain. When death was coming to take you, it didn’t ask whether or not there were still things left to be done. 

There was more to life than what she’d known and now she was on her way to a bright, new future all of her own. 

She was more than an heiress to her name. More than potions. More than traditions.

She was more. 

And somewhere out there her future was waiting, and the path that was meant for her. 

Mina could feel it in her bones.

This was where her road had led. Where she was supposed to be, right here, right now.

On the way to forge her legacy. 

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #oc birthday #mina pendleton #kaari arcano #the phoenix resistance #tpr #that's a wrap everybody #is mina's story tbc? #maybe #we'll see

[softersinned-arc]

@higheverlost​

At first, she thinks it’s a dream.

          The world, these days, is wretched and cruel. A Blight creeping toward them, the sick and rot of the taint spreading across the land and the people; the dead rising, denied any hope of peace while they tore their families to pieces with their own bony hands; her father, trapped, no doubt murdered, in the castle where his old friend slept and would not wake. And her friends, dead, slandered — had Eleanor and Bryce begged for their children’s lives? Had Lily suffered? Had Ellis —

          — she cannot think of Ellis.

          So when she hears the echo of his voice in Redcliffe’s Chantry she thinks it a dream. Perhaps a gift from Andraste, in thanks for her first real attempt at prayer, or rather a punishment for the years she spent so close to the Chantry in Amaranthine without any shred of real belief. And when she lifts her head to look for the source, there’s no one there, only whispered mentions of Grey Wardens and the promise of their aid.

          When she hears it again, she’s prepared. The leather gloves she’s trying to fit on fall from her hands and she ignores them, and she takes off in a run, dust kicking up from beneath her feet. She could swear it’s him. The hair is the same dark mess of curls she’d once combed the knots from with her fingers, one evening in Highever when they had slipped past his parents and her own to sneak to the turrets and watch the stars, his head in her lap, her back to the stone. The hands, now free of the no-doubt ill-fitting gauntlets that must match the armor he wears, are certainly the same hands that covered her mouth when she dissolved into helpless giggles at sunrise when they tried to sneak back in.

          And his voice. She would know that voice anywhere.

          “Ellis?”

          She’s throwing herself into him before he’s fully turned to face her, arms around his neck, a hand stealing into those curls, Astoria on her toes to reach him. She’s been in mourning for him — she’s been plotting Howe’s slow and painful death, certain that the accusations of treachery are false, because how could they deserve such a fate — she’s been thinking of herself very nearly as a widow, miserable at the thought of never seeing him again —

          When she pulls back from him it’s only to take his face in her hands and stare at him, tears spilling onto her cheeks in a rare and unconstrained display of emotion. Her heart is swelling with relief. Her hands are shaking against his skin. (He might have been her husband, sooner than later if their parents had their way, but practically since their meeting he has been her friend and she has loved him as well and as wholly as she could love anyone, has shared countless secrets with him, has felt his loss like an open wound.)

          She draws his face down to her and presses a furious kiss to his forehead, ignoring the curious stares of the strangers around him. They have had him for Maker knows how long; now she’ll have her turn. Astoria brushes an errant curl back, then lets out a quiet, wet laugh.

          “They told me you were dead.”

          (And suddenly she finds that she barely cares about Redcliffe and the walking dead,)

#higheverlost #thread: higheverlost001 #(i'm vibrating w excitement this is gonna be !!! SO good !!!)

[kathrynalicemc]

Esmee Amarathine was born in the 1920s and raised for the first few years of her life by her father Eme and her mother (tbd). Eme never had any interest in family besides one night stands that never lasted until the next morning. One day, however, he had an idea. If he were to have kids, it was possible that they could inherit his immortality. He would have an impressionable child to train that would obey his every command. He could create an army.

So he found a suitable partner and Esmee was born. She was thrown into studies and training as soon as she could walk and talk. It was inevitable when Esmee had her first fall and injured herself. It was a small cut but it’s significance was great. Her mother noticed and when it didn’t heal rapidly, she knew Esmee’s fate. Fearing for her life, she took steps to protect her from future injuries and to hide existing ones.

Of course, that would never last forever. At age 8, while sparring with her father, Eme went a little too far as he was fooled that she could heal. Her arm broke which was not something her mother could easily hide. Esmee was told to run as her mother faced the wrath of Eme and was killed. Esmee managed to get away and others helped her hide from him.

When she reached adulthood she joined the French Ministry of Magic as an Auror. Her life goal was to track her father down and force him to face justice for not only her mothers death but for all the events in history he was responsible for. During her research into history and her father, she discovered the existence of another immortal, her own aunt named Eleanor.

Esmee would eventually seek Eleanor out and team up with her. Together, they managed to capture Eme and send him to Azkaban. However, Esmee had a hatred for immortals and knew they were dangerous no matter their morals. She betrayed her aunt and imprisoned her within Azkaban too.

The rest of her life was spent guarding them and their secrets, even recruiting her own children and grandchildren to the cause. She would never let them escape, although she knew deep down that it was only a matter of time. They had forever to wait for their chance at freedom.

#hpfb #fantastic beasts era #fantastic beast oc #esmee amaranthine #eme amaranthine #eleanor amaranthine

[phoenixresistance]

The Phoenix Resistance- Book 2 Chapter 28 FINALE!

A/N: Well... here we are on the last page. Nine months all lead up to this. This is the ending for now but make sure to stick around for the character epilogues in the next few weeks for more endings!! As always: Mina belongs to @lifeofkaze and also Ava in mention. Artemis in mention belongs to @the-al-chemist and both Henry and Ellie belong to @thatravenpuffwitch. Enjoy!

Ministry of Magic, Atrium, London - May 2nd, 1998, 6:13 AM

A few hours went by as they waited. The atrium was completely silent for all of them but Devon. As much as she tried to push out the thoughts of her friends, they kept sneaking in. Each one of them were scared, some more than others.

Many of them paced back and forth, occasionally glancing down the dark rows of fireplaces when they thought they heard something, forms stiffening and the grip on their wands tightening only to relax when nothing came out of the darkness. Devon stood directly behind the barricade, never taking her eyes off the entrances. Her legs were stiff after hours of standing and the pain in her ribs was steadily getting worse but she refused to sit down, even after multiple suggestions from Henry. Dried blood that wasn’t hers caked her pants and hands.

It was just after sunrise that finally they saw exactly what they were dreading. A green light flickered and flashed deep within the darkness and they heard the roar of flames as a figure emerged from the floo network.

Mina and Eloise stood up from their places by the statue and they all approached the barricade as a group with their wands pointed forwards.

“Hey, stop right there!” Kaari called out loudly to the figure that got closer and closer.

The tension in the room relaxed as out from the shadows stepped a man with dark skin and rich purple robes. It was Kingsley Shacklebolt. Everyone’s wands dropped to their sides, except Devon who remained in place, her wand shaking slightly.

“If it’s really you, tell me your favorite type of bread,” Devon sent into Kingsley’s mind silently.

“Cinnamon raisin, of course,” she heard him reply back into her own mind.

“So, did we win?” Kaari inquired.

“Yes. Harry Potter has defeated Voldemort once and for all,” Kingsley’s deep voice filled the empty silence.

What followed was shouts of joy and exclamations of relief. Devon stood staring forward in shock before her knees finally gave out and she collapsed to the floor. All the adrenaline in her system crashed and the weight of the entire war came crumbing down upon her shoulders, like Atlas holding up the sky. Everyone was safe. Nobody else was going to die under her command.

“Dev! Oh Merlin, are you ok?” Henry immediately rushed to her side and scooped her up.

“Yea, I’m fine. I just need to rest for a second,” she signed.

Kingsley had climbed over the barricade and now crouched down next to them, his hand outstretched towards Devon who shook it gladly.

“Thanks for holding down the fort, Marlowe. I’ll take it from here,” he smiled gently.

“There’s one more thing I need to do, if you would allow me? In fact, I could really use your help, Kingsley,” Devon signed and pushed herself to her feet, Henry supporting her from one side.

...

With Kingsley’s help, the Phoenix Resistance wrote and printed one last newspaper together. This one, however, had no enchantments placed upon it to obscure the words.

Witches and wizards all around England watched as papers appeared with a flash from their floo networks and fell gently from the sky, a dark winged shadow accompanying it. The gold fiery Phoenix symbol blazed at the top of the paper, now visible to all.

Headlined right at the top with large letters said “Harry Potter Defeats The Dark Lord!”

The paper also went into great detail debunking the false muggleborn propaganda that was spread during the war. It included some damning evidence against many Death Eaters, calling them out by name. The puppet government was also revealed to the public. Pius Thicknesse had been under the imperius curse and Voldemort was the true leader during the war.

With that, the Phoenix flew one last time. However, this time it didn’t fly under the cover of night and it wasn’t exchanged by the hushed whispers of people in taverns. It also wouldn’t erupt into fire and burn away. This time it was persistent and loud.

At the bottom of the paper, where usually there was a blank space, now was filled with words.

“By Devon Marlowe”

The author of the Phoenix Paper was finally revealed.

As for what was to follow in the next few months after, Devon Marlowe would work under Kingsley as one of the head lawyers for the Death Eater Trials. The information she presented from the notebook she kept during the war was instrumental in the arrests and trials that followed.

The Leaky Cauldron, Diagon Alley, London - May 6th, 1998, 5:04 PM

The next few days passed in a blur for most of them. Kaari was more drunk than he was sober as he had a celebratory drink with anyone he came across. Devon on the other hand had buried herself in her work.

Tonight, however, Henry had managed to tear her away for a moment. The two of them held hands as they entered the Leaky Cauldron. Heads turned and hushed voices whispered as they made their way to a small table in the corner that already had many figures crowded around it.

“Hey, is that her? The former leader of the Phoenix Resistance?”

“No way.”

“Look at her scars. Of course it’s her.”

“Then those people at the table.. are they-“

“There she is! The woman of the hour!” Kaari loudly exclaimed, raising his tankard high in the air. Clearly he had started drinking early.

“C’mon, grab a seat!”

“What seat? You guys couldn’t find a larger table?” Henry laughed, pulling up a few more chairs from a nearby empty table.

It looked like they were the last ones to arrive. Along with Kaari Arcano, the table was surrounded by Mina Pendleton, Ellie Hopper, and even Eloise Yaxley. It was a shame that Ava Campbell and Artemis Hexley weren’t here, but Devon knew they were here in spirit.

Once everyone got settled, Kaari ordered a round for everyone. They spent the next little while in idle conversation. Each of them took turns talking about their day and what they had gotten up to in the last few days. Devon found herself laughing often, something she rarely did the last ten months. They were finally free from the darkness.

A bittersweet sadness sat in Devon’s chest as she couldn’t help but compare this to one of the first drinks she had in the Lone Star. Back then, it was just her, Henry, and Kaari. Their family had certainly grown since then. However, they had also lost family.

Immediately after they had sent out the last Phoenix Paper, the five of them left after their coup on the Ministry to deal with their fallen friends.

Mirai Wilson was cremated, matching their other fallen companion who was already ash. It was easy enough for Kaari to sneak into the back garden of the Wilson Manor, as he had done it once before. There, he watched as her ashes were picked up by the spring breeze and scattered through the grass and flowers. As long as Lenwin and Kiri stayed there, they would be close to her. Even if they didn’t know it. Lenwin would discover a piece of parchment jammed into the kitchen window, telling him of her passing in the line of duty. Her life was given so that many others would live.

Eleanor and Eme’s ashes were somewhat mixed and intertwined as they laid upon the Ministry floor. The Resistance combined them and after some discussion, they decided to take a trip to Pendle Hill together. Four hundred and two years after they were born, the twins finally returned home to rest.

The Resistance stood side by side and watched as the ashes blew up into the slowly darkening sky as the sun set over Pendle Hill. After a while, they all said their goodbyes and parted ways. Not forever, of course. They would always be friends.

It was now only a few short days later and they had reunited once again to have one last drink for the ones that they had lost. It was then that Devon stood up.

“To Mirai and Eleanor,” she signed before hoisting her tankard up high.

“To the Resistance,” Kaari added after translating for Devon.

The others stood up and joined her in her toast, their glasses lifting high into the air. They were surprised when their voices were joined with many others, echoing out around the entire tavern, their glasses raised in solemn recognition.

“To the Resistance!”

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #the phoenix resistance #tpr #devon marlowe #kaari arcano #henry mcclarnon #mina pendleton #eloise yaxley #kingsley shacklebolt #eleanor amaranthine #mirai wilson #ellie hopper #artemis hexley #ava campbell

[fademirrored]

alpha: Hero of Ferelden

“Look, I’m not asking for a lot here. Just do what I say for ten minutes and we’ll be golden.”

Caje Cousland Lord Cousland. Hero of Ferelden. Warden-Commander. Arl of Amaranthine. King-Consort of Ferelden. Human noble.

Male. He/Him/His. Pansexual, demiromantic. 22 Wintermarch, 9:08 Dragon. Highever, Ferelden. Warrior; sword and shield. Templar. Champion. Guardian.

Eyes: Dark gray-blue, a bit narrow. Get brighter blue the longer he’s a Templar. Hair: Dishwater blond, verging on brown. Just past his ears, usually swept back out of his face, though refuses to cooperate frequently. Smooth, frequently fussed over. Skin: Tan, golden undertones. Few freckles. Calloused hands. Height: 6'0". Build: Tall and broad. Broad shoulders, large arms, looks like he can walk through a stone wall. Notable Details: Gradually increasing amount of scars. Scar near his left temple, usually hidden by his hair. Voice: Bradley James

Positive Traits: Diplomatic; he’s good at figuring out what someone wants to hear and the quickest way to deescalate a situation. Calm and patient; his temper is usually at an even keel and it takes a while before he’s ready to pop, and even when he is it’s not going to be a particularly explosive ordeal. Good with words, and good at figuring out the best words to use for the situation; while he doesn’t always seem articulate when he’s not bothering, he can turn it on and off like a switch. Observant; he’s going to cotton on to the small details pretty quickly, and he’s typically pretty good at reading the room. Personable and outwardly friendly; even if he doesn’t particularly like someone, they most likely aren’t going to be able to tell that at a glance. Negative Traits: Self-absorbed and arrogant; he’s very full of himself, generally figures he knows best and that he should be in charge, and if he’s not involved in a situation then clearly it can’t be all that important or urgent. Know-it-all. Bossy, to the extreme; he’ll mask it with politeness, but he’s going to get increasingly pointed if he wants someone to do something and they aren’t cooperating with him. Manipulative, even to friends; everyone can be a pawn in the right situation, so he’s not going to see anything wrong with maneuvering them as he sees fit or with guilting a friend into conceding he’s right. Two-faced, albeit pleasantly so; while he’s outwardly friendly to most people, he’s not going to see anything wrong with throwing someone to the wolves with a smile on his face. Neutral Traits: Ambivert. Not particularly sentimental. Laid-back. Optimist vs. Pessimist: Optimistic, but pushy about getting the right outcome. Quirks: Tends to butt into conversations uninvited. Typically overdressed for the occasion whilst living on the road; hates feeling like he’s not put together. Avoids children as much as possible; Oren was the exception. Tends to move very deliberately and purposefully.

Religion: Atheist. Likes: Fighting, serious or for play. Dogs, horses, animals in general. Art. Music. Learning and perfecting a skill. Theater. That ‘I just won an argument’ feeling. Most wine. More keen on savory foods. Dislikes: Most children. Rodents. Worms. Mess and clutter. People arguing with him. Not getting his way. Being bossed around or told what to do. Not a big fan of sweets. Favorite Colors: Royal blue. Vegas gold. Silver. Indigo. Hobbies: Reading. Drawing, especially plants and animals. Hunting. Combat, sparring. Wrestling.

Family: Bryce Cousland (father, deceased). Eleanor Cousland (mother, deceased). Fergus Cousland (brother). Oriana Cousland (sister-in-law, deceased). Oren Cousland (nephew, deceased). Dog: Squirrel. Other Critters: Valerian, stallion, post-Awakening. Romance: Leliana initially; marries Anora. Friends: Morrigan. Zevran. Alistair. Anders. Nathaniel. Note: Didn’t particularly like all of his companions, but was very good at seeming as if he did. Marriage with Anora was less than smooth, and friendships started deteriorating fairly quickly once he was no longer in daily contact with them. *everything in this section can of course be tweaked or disregarded entirely for specific threads, if you’d rather.

#Courtly Matters [Caje] #darp #dragon age rp

[illusivesoul]

Why Rendon Howe is evil

This is a little theory thats been going around in my head for several days.

Rendon Howe. Evil personified. Probably one of the most despicable and hated characters in the Dragon Age series. One of the characters thats most easily defined as being just plain bad and evil, with good reason. Even in the game itself no one likes him (with 1 exception that I'll mention later in this post)

In the game, we really aren't given many reasons as to why he is the way he is and why he does the thing he does beyond saying he's evil, power hungry, and like he himself says as he dies, "I deserved more!" But recently I started to become curious about him to try to find out what had made him become like this, cause I prefer villains to have some complexity that goes beyond just "He's evil just because".

Rest of the analysis under the cut.

.

My main theory of why I think Rendon became "evil" is cause he may have suffered brain damage due to his injuries while fighting against Orlais with Maric and his rebels. My first thought for this came cause historically, Henry the 8th of England suffered several brain injuries during sporting events, and its believed that his injuries led to him having a severe personality change, which led to him become more radical, tyrannical and murderous.

After the death of his father and the Howe family joining the rebellion, Rendon joined Maric's forces and became close friends with Bryce Cousland, future Teyrn of Highever, and Leonas Bryland, future Arl of South Reach. The 3 of them fought together in the Battle of White River, which was the worse defeat the rebels suffered in the war against Orlais, and only 50 of the initial thousand soldier strong fereldan army survived.

Rendon was very badly injured during the battle, and Bryce and Leonas had to dragged him away to safety as the rebel army was crushed by the orlesians. Bryce was injured in the arm while trying to save Rendon from a chevalier. They got Rendon to Redcliffe and stayed with him for a month while he recovered before leaving to rejoin Maric and the rest of the rebel forces. While Rendon recovered in Redcliffe, he was tended to by Leonas's sister, Eliane, until he eventually recovered months later. He eventually proposed to her and they got married.

And here is the first bit of evidence we get of Rendon's attitude and behaviour completely changing after that battle and his wounds. From the wiki: "Leonas had become concerned by the changes in his friend's behavior since the battle and attempted to prevent the marriage." And some other quotes from Leonas that we get to her in dao: "Rendon Howe was no friend of mine. The boy I knew... died at the Battle of White River" and "That he didn't die years ago is the only thing worth mourning here." Leonas cut all contact with Rendon after he told him that he was only marrying his sister for her dowry and connections.

This goes back to what I mentioned earlier about the one person that seemed to care for Rendon. That person is Bryce Cousland.

Bryce and Eleanor were the only people that attended Rendon and Eliane's wedding, and even though Rendon was treated as a pariah by almost everyone in fereldan nobility, Bryce still maintained a friendly relation with Rendon, and seemed to have an almost protective attitude towards him, which contrasts greatly with how Leonas feels about Rendon. And this is where I came up with another theory about why this is. I believe that Bryce feels personally responsible for the injuries and near death that Rendon suffered during the Battle of White River and feels that he is somehow obligated to look after him. I can only hc why these could be, but maybe Rendon got injured while protecting Bryce, or maybe Bryce's actions during the battle led to Rendon's injuries. Maybe that's why Bryce seems to have keep pushing for the friendship that he once had with him, even though he clearly no longer was the same person. Cause Bryce felt responsible for the way Rendon had turned out.

Its possible that Rendon was just always like this, and those months he spent recovering just made him become super resentful against everything and everyone, but I do believe that the near death injuries he suffered during that battle, including possible head injuries and brain trauma, led to his personality changing and to him becoming the sheer villain we see ingame.

And to finish, a bit of background as to why Rendon would have hated Bryce even despite of this, here's a bit of info about them and about the relation between Highever and Amaranthine.

Rendon's father, Tarleton, supported Orlais during their occupation of Ferelden, and was eventually hanged by the Couslands before the Howes officially joined the rebellion. Adding the fact that Highever was once part of Amaranthine before they rebelled to gain their independence and annexed a good part of southern Amaranthine after winning their independence war, it adds some context to how Rendon could have seen this part of his greater vengeance against the Couslands and Highever for killing his father and taking away land from Amaranthine.

TL,DR: Rendon Howe suffered grieveous injuries during the war against Orlais, including possible brain injuries which may have led to a complete personality shift and to him becoming the person that we see him being in the game.

#dragon age #dragon age meta #dragon age lore #rendon howe #illusivesoulrambles #nathaniel howe #delilah howe #couslands #bryce cousland #eleanor cousland #ferelden #maric theirin #denerim #amaranthine #highever #the landsmeet #dragon age origins #dao #da:o

[spiritdreamt]

AU ; O GREY WARDEN; WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?

tl;dr: percy is the hero of ferelden, a rogue with the human noble background; defaults to origins, but can also take place during da2 or inquisition. she also has a companion verse where she’s the youngest child of a bann & runs away from home, joining the HoF.

      persephone cousland: youngest child of bryce & eleanor, a wild child enamored with history and music and poetry. as a young girl, she thrived on tales of the rebellion, relishing in daydreams where she killed chevaliers to free her homeland. when she was old enough to learn to handle a weapon of her own, it was quickly decided that persephone (percy, perce, little pup) would be better off wielding daggers than a longsword. with her best friend, a mabari pup named muffin, she got into no small amount of trouble.

      though her smart mouth often got her into trouble, her childhood was relatively content. once she turned fifteen, however, her peers began to court her. this might have bothered her less if these young men actually wanted her and not some idealized version of her. persephone often daydreamed about running away, but she never did. a cousland always does their duty, after all, and she knows all too well that her duty is to be a nobleman’s wife, not a hero. not someone great, no matter how much she wishes it.

      except she did get the chance to be great. a horrific chance: in the middle of the night, on the eve of a possible blight, their old ally—their friend—rendon howe and his men slaughtered persephone’s mother, father, sister-in-law, and young nephew in the middle of the night. percy herself barely escaped, only thanks to the help of a grey warden named duncan. in return, she became a grey warden recruit.

DECISIONS

note: character-based decisions are variable based on interaction, e.g. i’m more than willing to write threads where loghain is spared, or where alistair is not king, etc.

QUEST BASED

sided with mages

killed kitty & saved amalia; matthias also alive

did not poison ashes

connor & isolde survived

brokered peace between werewolves & elves

sided with caridian; anvil destroyed

crowned harrowmont king

did not gain power of blood

both sophia & avernus perished

anora and alistair rule together

executed loghain

returned to ostagar with loghain

dark ritual performed with loghain

killed the architect

protected keep & amaranthine

COMPANION BASED

recruited everyone

did not harden alistair

did not harden leliana

acquired grimoire by defeating flemeth

oghren & felsi reunited

allowed morrigan to go peacefully through the eluvian

all companions alive & well, nathaniel included

romanced either alistair or zevran (to be determined)

#au ; o grey warden what have you done? (dragon age).

[thatravenpuffwitch]

The Phoenix Resistance — Book 2, Chapter 22

Resistance Reborn

A/N: This was written as part of the @phoenixresistance project! Mina Pendleton belongs to @lifeofkaze, Kaari Arcano, Mirai Wilson, and Eleanor Amaranthine to @kathrynalicemc / Warnings: fire devastation, mentions of violence, some swearing

Lone Star Tavern, Whitechapel, London

23rd April 1998, 10:37pm

Henry stared at the charred ruins of what had once been the Lone Star Tavern. It had burned with such intensity, the flames deep red and amber, almost livid purple, as the Phoenix Resistance fought desperately to save it.

Despite heavy rain from the storm, the fire had continued to rage for hours, its flames licking up in the air with the wind, trying to catch something else on fire. Eventually, the storm turned into a cool drizzle, though the air was still humid and charged with electricity.

Henry’s clothes were soaked through and his eyes stung from the smoke, but they had finally managed to extinguish the fire. Next to him, Mina had sunk to the ground, cradling her head in her hands, with Mirai resting a gentle hand on her shivering shoulders. Eleanor was caked in blood and ashes but she was unharmed and furious-looking, as expected. Kaari swore loudly and kicked a piece of wrought iron that had once decorated the windows of the tavern into the street, where above, Ryoko’s form was silhouetted against the night sky, watching over them like one of the gargoyles on the building he sat atop. Still, there was no sign of Devon.

After Eme’s explosion had nearly thrown him through the tavern’s front window, Henry had lost track of her in the utter chaos that followed. He was sure that she had gone back for the Muggleborns they were sheltering in the hidden cellar room and clung desperately to the hope that somehow she made it out and was laying low somewhere with them.

But that didn’t stop him from agonizing over every possible gruesome thing that could have happened to her, and it would be all his fault for not being there too. Would he find her broken body inside the tavern? Or just a pile of ashes unidentifiable to him? More than once, he had to be held back from running inside the burning tavern, but now no one stopped him.

The entire main floor had been reduced to rubble, save part of the back exterior wall and the crumbling brick fireplace in the center of the building. The ground was slick with wet ash and beams of wood exposed the basement underneath. His boots crunched over bits of glass on his way to the cellar stairs, which he took two at a time.

The storage room at the bottom of the stairs was mostly intact, though the floor was littered with broken wine bottles and busted barrels. The smokey acrid smell that permeated the stale air caused Henry to gag and cover his mouth with this wand arm.

The large barrel door leading to Devon’s office and the refugees' rooms had been blown apart as if someone had blasted it over and over again until it finally splintered. Henry thought he heard several voices calling his name from back up the stairs, but he passed through the door and went down the narrow brick hallway anyway.

The inside of Devon’s office was a complete disaster. Charred particles of what had once been maps and newspapers floated gently through the air, and the giant printing press had collapsed in on itself, its partially melted shards of black iron looming over him like a dementor of Azkaban.

Henry started towards the far side of the room where Devon’s desk had been tipped over, figuring that would be his best bet of finding something not completely burned to hell. He had taken barely three steps into the room before his boot kicked something thin and wooden, which rolled and skittered to a stop a short distance in front of him.

Henry’s eyes blurred as he stared down at Devon’s wand, and he barely caught himself from faceplanting onto the floor as his legs gave out from under him. He quickly snatched it up and cradled it to his chest, taking several deep, trembling breaths.

“Henry, I was calling you,” Kaari said as he entered the office. Henry didn’t turn around, he couldn’t. “Mina and Eleanor are outside keeping watch and Mirai and I have started checking the refugees' rooms, but it looks like they made it out alright in the end. Thank Godric.”

He walked to Devon’s upturned desk and began removing documents, photos, and other random objects from the drawers.

Henry blinked at him. “What are you doing?”

“What's it look like? I’m just gonna grab as much as I can and let Devon sort through what’s important once we meet up with her.” Kaari pushed the desk away from the wall and began rummaging through another drawer. “Her Eiffel Tower Portkey seems to be missing so she must’ve gone with the others.”

“No, Kaari,” he managed to choke out.

“What?” Kaari raised his eyebrows and came out from behind the desk to stand in front of Henry. “Why are you on the floor? Get over there and help me. You know more about the logistical stuff than I do.”

He held Devon’s wand out for Kaari to see. “I don’t think Devon made it out with the refugees.” Saying the words aloud caused his eyes to sting with tears.

“No,” Kaari’s face fell and he collapsed to his knees in front of Henry. “Maybe… Maybe she just dropped her wand.”

“Of course, she dropped her wand!” Henry shouted. His voice sounded scratchy and foreign in his ears. “But we’ve been here for hours. Don’t you think she would have come back for us by now?” He took a shaky breath. “He got to her.”

For what felt like hours, but couldn’t have been more than a few minutes, Kaari and Henry sat in silence amongst the debris on the cold floor of Devon’s office as the cool rain trickled through the holes in the ceiling, sizzling on the wooden beams above them.

“I know you’re hurting, but we need to get up now,” Kaari stood and clasped Henry’s shoulders with both of his hands. “Devon always said not to go back for anyone, even her. But we’re in charge now, so that rule can go and fuck itself. We’re getting her back no matter what.”

Eyes dark, his mouth pressed into a thin line, Henry had never seen Kaari look so serious or so determined before. In a slight daze, he allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.

“No matter what,” he agreed.

Between the two of them, they made quick work of salvaging what they could from the office. They gathered up anything that might be important and searched for clues as to what exactly happened to Devon.

Henry had spent so much time there that he knew the layout as well as he knew Devon’s face. The way her nose crinkled when she laughed, the way her eyes lit up whenever he managed to surprise her, and the fierce set of her jaw as she addressed the Phoenix Resistance.

As he sorted through a few photographs, something odd in the brick wall behind Devon’s desk caught his eye, and he went over to more closely inspect it.

There, carved into the reddish brick was the shape of a rose. Certain that it had not been there before, Henry ran his hand over it. The brick was loose.

“I found something,” Henry gestured at Kaari, who joined him, removing a dagger from his belt as he went.

Without hesitating, Kaari pried the brick away from the wall to reveal that the inside of it had been hollowed out to make space for a leather-bound notebook, which he passed to Henry.

They both knew who the book belonged to and what the gravity of her leaving it behind meant. He flipped through the pages of Devon’s neat handwriting detailing the records of Muggleborns they had relocated, resistance safehouses, and evidence they had been gathering against individual Death Eaters.

“I think we’ve found everything worth saving,” Kaari sighed. “Let’s rejoin the others and get out of here.”

The two men made their way back through the narrow hallway, up the stairs, and into the main floor of the devastated tavern where they were met by Mirai.

“We found something you’ll want to see,” she said.

Mirai led them through the rubble, towards the only partially standing foundation wall of the tavern, and stepped outside into the back alley where Mina and Eleanor stood on alert, close together with their wands raised. Henry removed his wand from his jacket pocket where he had stowed it along with Devon’s. Then he saw it.

Scorched into the wall were two large words, spreading across the cracked brick, like angry black lightning strikes:

DUNMORE EAST

“A location? Devon’s location?” Kaari tapped along the bricks with his dagger.

“Yes, obviously it’s a location,” Mina tutted. “But why leave it in the first place?”

Eleanor stepped forward and placed a thin hand on the blackened wall. “It’s from Eme. It seems my brother would like me to come to him.” Her answer was directed at Mina, but she looked meaningfully at Henry through a curtain of long, blood-matted hair.

“Well, shit,” Kaari threw his arms out in exasperation. “Anyone know where the fuck Dunmore East is?”

“Yeah, it’s in Ireland,” Henry said, nodding. “Kaari, send a Patronus ahead to Hopper House, will you?”

Hopper House, Co. Waterford, Ireland

24th April 1998, 7:22pm

The following evening found what was left of the Phoenix Resistance sitting around Ellie Hopper’s kitchen table.

They had kept to themselves since arriving at the safehouse, recovering from the loss of their leader and friend in their own ways. Eleanor had immediately disappeared into one of the guest rooms and had barely made a sound since, while Mina and Mirai kept themselves busy by working in the greenhouse for most of the day.

As for Henry, he had barely slept the night before and was now feeling more than a little irritable. Consumed with worry and simultaneously buzzing with impatience to get to Devon, he’d tossed and turned all night. But every time he shut his eyes he saw Devon’s face, beaten and bloody, or the raging fire that had consumed the Lone Star Tavern, as if they were permanently burned into the back of his eyelids.

Around 6am he gave up on trying to sleep altogether and decided to start his day instead. He spent most of it holed up in Ellie’s office, sending out communications and instructions to their spies scattered across the UK. He and Kaari had decided that their best course of action would be to put a pause on all resistance activities until they knew how much of their operation had been exposed, and so they would be able to focus all their energy on rescuing Devon.

Meanwhile, Kaari and Ellie, who with her tactical experience as an Auror and knowledge of the area had volunteered to accompany him, had taken Ryoko on a scouting mission to the quaint fishing village of Dunmore East.

They had returned earlier that evening with a very promising lead on where Devon was being held captive. Based on sightings of unusual individuals, traces of magical activity, and a suspicious amount of highly confused Muggles, they believed the Death Eaters were keeping her on an old-fashioned sailing boat anchored just off the coast.

After a quick dinner spent mostly in silence, a far cry from the previous night’s meal, the Phoenix Resistance was ready to plan their leader’s rescue.

“You have us walking into a deathtrap, Arcano,” Mina argued. She and Kaari had been bickering almost non-stop since the dishes had been cleared.

“No one’s forcing you to come, Mina,” Kaari sighed in frustration. “You can stay here and help Mirai get things ready for Devon. We don’t know what sort of shape she’ll be in.”

“It’s me Eme wants. I can go alone,” Eleanor tried to interject, but there was no stopping Mina from bringing up what she really wanted to say.

“And what about my cousin? Where’s her rescue party?”

“We’ve been over this, Mina,” Kaari reminded her. “Ava knew what she was doing. Do you really think I’d have just let her go if I didn’t believe that? Can’t you trust me?”

“Not until I’ve heard from Ava herself.”

As they continued to argue, Henry rubbed his temples in an attempt to tune them out, but to no avail. Eleanor had since given up trying to speak and instead slouched ominously in her chair. Mirai watched on with wide eyes, and beside him, Ellie’s face flushed a dark shade of crimson.

“Fine, princess! Once we get Devon back, I’ll help you search for Ava if that’s what it will take to finally shut you up!”

“No!” Henry snapped at them. “Why would we waste our time searching for someone who doesn’t even want to be fucking found?”

Ellie slammed her palms on the table and stood up from her seat, causing everyone to jump.

“That is enough!” She yelled, at a volume that Henry had not previously thought her possible of reaching. “This,” Ellie gestured wildly around the table at them, “is not helping anyone. And it’s certainly not helping Devon. So pull yourselves together and let’s start acting like a team she would be proud of.”

After several seconds of silence, Ellie sat back down and crossed her arms over her chest, daring one of them to speak.

“You’re not the boss,” Kaari finally grumbled.

“No, but you are. So start acting like it,” she rolled her eyes, then turned to Henry and cautiously placed her hand over his. “We really need you right now, Henry. Can you handle this?”

He took a deep, steadying breath, and looked around the table at his friends. The Phoenix Resistance looked back at him expectantly.

“I can,” he said firmly.

They spent the next few hours planning the details of their rescue mission, as best they could. There was still a lot of information they did not have, but with Devon’s life hanging in the balance, time was of the essence and they could not afford to wait much longer.

Eventually, Eleanor and Mirai retired to their rooms to try to get a few hours of sleep, and Ellie got up to say goodnight to her husband, until only Henry, Kaari, and Mina were left at the table.

“Fuck, I need a drink,” Kaari said, getting up to rummage through Ellie’s refrigerator. He passed them each a beer, then sat back down and propped his feet up on the table.

Henry took his gratefully, but Mina continued to stare, almost bashfully, at her hands which were clasped firmly on the table.

“Listen, Mina,” Henry started, causing her to look up at him. “I’m sorry that I snapped at you. It’s not that I don’t care about Ava, but Devon is... she could be…” A lump formed in his throat, but Mina spared him from finishing the sentence.

“I know. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry too,” she said sincerely. “I’m just really worried about Ava. But I’m worried about Devon too, and I’d like to help you rescue her.”

Henry smiled at her. “Thank you. So are we all in agreement then?”

Kaari and Mina looked at each other skeptically for a second, then nodded.

“We get her back. No matter what.”

#the phoenix resistance #tpr #henry mcclarnon #kaari arcano #mina pendleton #eleanor amaranthine #mirai wilson #ellie hopper #devon marlowe #ava campbell #my writing #hphm #hogwarts mystery

[the-al-chemist]

The Phoenix Resistance Book 2 Chapter 24

Mayday

A/N: it’s not the happiest of birthday stories for Artemis, but as least she’s got herself a party… Warnings: mentions of alcohol, war, and death. Kaari Arcano, Devon Marlowe, Mirai Wilson and Eleanor Amaranthine belong to @kathrynalicemc, Mina Pendleton and Ava Campbell belong to @lifeofkaze, and Ellie Hopper and Henry McClarnon belong to @thatravenpuffwitch. Chapter written as part of the @phoenixresistance project.

Shell Cottage,Tinworth, Cornwall, England - 1st May 1998, 9.30pm

Though Artemis had not really wanted a birthday party, she was grateful to be reunited with so many people she cared about after the events of the previous few months. There had been several times - the majority of the time, in fact - where she had thought that she might never see Rosmerta, Kingsley, Tonks, Bill, or any of Bill’s family again, but here she was, and here they were - or, at least, some of them were.

Rosmerta hadn’t been able to stay at the surprise party for long, concerned that her absence from the Three Broomsticks might raise suspicions among the Death Eaters, Tonks and Remus had left early to return to their new baby, and Mr and Mrs Weasley had taken Ginny and her somewhat peculiar friend back to Bill’s Aunt Muriel’s as soon as Fred had pulled a bottle of tequila from the lining of his jacket.

Now, it was just Artemis, Kingsley, Bill, Fleur, and the twins, and though the guests were small in number, Bill and Fleur’s cottage was nonetheless filled with noise and sound, the twins noisily dealing out a pack of cards and pouring out shot glasses full of clear liquid under Fleur’s sceptical eye whilst Bill and Kingsley chatted by the gramophone, still playing the records Kingsley had brought over from Artemis’ old house.

Bill left the scene after there was a knock at the door, and returned into the living room with more guests.

“I heard there was a party,” said a voice with a now all-too-familiar Norwegian accent, and Bill stepped aside to reveal the grinning face of Kaari Arcano. “I hope you don’t mind my bringing friends.”

“Not at all, Arcano,” George Weasley called out, not even looking up from the playing cards. “We’re just about to really get this party started.”

Kaari led his friends into the room, a collection of witches and wizards who Artemis recognised from her time in Skalafell: they were the Phoenix Resistance. There was Devon, the leader of the resistance, and her partner Henry, a curse-breaker who Artemis had worked with in Egypt five years previously. Then there was Eleanor, the petite blonde woman Artemis had helped to rescue from Azkaban back in December; Mirai, the Healer Artemis had met for the first time in Norway; and a blonde girl Artemis had known from school - Mina, Kaari introduced her as - but had until now not realised was a part of the resistance at all. Bringing up the rear was Ellie Hopper, who smiled shyly at Artemis before hugging her.

“How is-”

“He’s okay,” Ellie whispered. “Thank you for asking.”

Ellie left to greet Kingsley, leaving Artemis with Kaari.

“It’s good to see you… alive,” Kaari smirked. “We thought that curiosity might really have killed the cat.”

“Just as well cats have nine lives,” replied Artemis. “Any word from Ava?”

“Mina is Ava’s cousin. She received a blank postcard from Bucharest a couple of weeks ago.”

Artemis nodded. At least Ava seemed to have gotten herself to safety. There was one more thing playing on her mind, however.

“Kaari,” she said, quieter than before. “You heard how I escaped, right?”

“Why do I feel like you aren’t about to thank me for the knife I gave you at Yuletide?”

“So you do know, then.”

“I do, yes,” Kaari nodded. “Good job I gave you that knife. Even better job I taught you how to use it.”

“Do you know who he was? The wizard?”

Kaari frowned. “He was a Death-Eater.”

“I know, but his name…”

“Briarwood. Cain Briarwood. Nasty piece of work. We destroyed his potions shop a few months ago. Now, what is it you English call it? A good riddance?”

Artemis swallowed.

“Yeah,” she said, though she wasn’t sure how much she agreed. A life was still a life, wasn’t it? “A good riddance.”

“Now, what’s this?” the deep, melodious voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt reverberated across the living room, and Artemis turned to see him cocking a single eyebrow at the Weasley twins, who had stopped pouring drinks and were conducting what looked like a furtive and fairly serious conversation. “I hope you two aren’t plotting anything with those cards.”

“We aren’t,” said George, his face grim. “It’s these.”

Both he and Fred held out a Galleon each. Artemis frowned, not really sure of their significance.

“We had them made when we were in Dumbledore’s Army at school. All of us had them,” Fred explained. “Whenever a new meeting was arranged, they’d burn hot and the date and time of the meeting would show on the coin.”

“They’ve just burned for the first time since we left school.”

Kingsley nodded his head, his own expression sombre. “And when are you being called to a meeting?”

“Now.”

“Turn off the gramophone. Put the radio on.”

Bill immediately did as Kingsley instructed, and fiddled with the dials of the wireless until it played a single voice, frantic and breathless:

“Lightning has struck! I repeat, lightning has struck!”

The room fell silent.

“What does that mean?” Artemis asked quietly, though her heart sank as if she already knew the answer.

“It means that Harry Potter is at Hogwarts. It means that it’s starting. The battle,” said Kingsley. He took a breath, and when he spoke again, his voice was loud and authoritative. “Fred and George, you go to your family, make sure they know, then find this army of yours and get them to wherever it is we need to go. Bill and Fleur, get the word out to our allies overseas. Ellie, you and I will alert the rest of the Order. Devon, make sure the resistance is ready. We are going to need all the help we can get.”

The silence gave way to a cacophony of sound and movement, of patronuses being cast, and plans being made, and the loud cracks of Fred and George Weasley apparating away to find the rest of the Weasleys.

As she watched the surge of action around her, Artemis felt a strange dizzy sensation settle over her, and she slipped out into the garden outside, where the air was cooler and the sound of the waves could be heard lapping against the shore. It was time to fight, to bring about an end, one way or another. At least she would get to see the sea one more time before she set off towards her uncertain future.

“Artemis?”

She looked over her shoulder and saw Kaari Arcano standing behind her, wand already in hand. He grinned.

“So, this is it, huh?” he asked, and Artemis hummed in response. “So, Devon has come up with a plan.”

“What’s that?”

“We are staging one last raid.”

Artemis wrinkled her nose. “Now?”

“Now.”

“But, the battle… You heard Kingsley, we need everyone that we’ve got!”

“Yes, but so will the other side. The Death Eaters will be at the battle, too.”

“So, you’re going to just rob their houses while they’re out?”

“Not their houses, no,” said Kaari. “We’re going to take back the Ministry of Magic.” Artemis stared at him incredulously, and he continued, “They took it over with a coup. We are going to do the same. Besides, the Ministry is full of evidence, it’s proof of the crimes the Death Eaters and their supporters have committed. If we win this fight at Hogwarts, you can bet that evidence will be destroyed. We won’t get justice.”

“I guess, but what if we don’t win?”

“Then we will give them a whole other fight when they get back,” Kaari told Artemis. “So, are you coming with us? You are one of us now, after all. Do you want to fight alongside your comrades?”

He raised his eyebrows at her expectantly, but Artemis shook her head.

“No,” she said definitely, casting a look at the window of the house, through which both Kingsley’s and Bill’s patronuses could be seen. “I want to fight alongside my family.”

If Kaari was disappointed, he didn’t show it. Instead, he merely withdrew his wand and extended his hand to Artemis.

“I can understand that,” he said, as Artemis took his proffered hand and shook it. “Until we meet again, Artemis Hexley.”

“Until we meet again, Kaari Arcano.”

With that, Kaari was gone, disapparating with a loud crack. A few moments later, the shadow of something large and winged flew through the sky over Artemis’ head. She waved to it, before taking a deep breath of the sea-salted air and steeling herself.

It really was time to get the party started.

#artemis hexley #hphm fic #golden era fic #harry potter fanfiction #the phoenix resistance #kaari arcano #ellie hopper #mina pendleton #Mirai Wilson #fred weasley #george weasley #bill weasley #kingsley shacklebolt