#tldr go read violence & the sacred

[frodo-of-the-nine-fingers]

the question of whether or not Jin Guangyao killed Qin Su or Jin Rusong is so deeply unimportant to me and also misunderstands, i think, the framing of these murders in the text. in the end, it doesn't actually matter if he killed them or not, it doesn't even matter if he feels like he did or feels ultimately responsible for their deaths (both of which are not necessarily the same thing as having capital M murdered them). what's important is that people think he did. what's important is that all it takes to destroy a man & make him the next surrogate victim is a few well placed rumors, whether or not they're true. it happened to Wei Wuxian and then it happens to Jin Guangyao. it doesn't matter, ultimately, if he killed Qin Su or Jin Rusong, the only thing that matters is that people think he did and that they were so easily and vindictively swayed is one of the themes of the story. Jin Guangyao uses this against Wei Wuxian and then Nie Huaisang uses rumors and gossip against him because the only murder that actually matters in the story is the one that starts the story, the one we know Jin Guangyao did for certain, the founding murder if you will.

#tldr who cares if he killed the baby/j #i do think we need to stop obsessing over it tho l #it's ambiguous! let it be ambiguous! #you can't ever prove that he did you cant ever prove that he didn't let it goooooo #tldr go read violence & the sacred #sry if this is rambly & contradictory & doesn't make sense i am who i am there’s no fixing it now #im not saying that their deaths are less important than nmj (except like narratively speaking they are so) but i am saying that #if you're so hyperfocussed on whether or not these 'acts' prove jgy is 'good' or 'evil' you are missing the point #mimetic doubles be doubling mimetic crisises be needed surrogate victims the grass is green the sky is blue what else is new

[spellbund]

╰ °✧ that’s ANASTASIA SELWYN and SHE seems to look a lot like FLORENCE PUGH. according to ministry files, the PUREBLOOD used to attend HOGWARTS and be in RAVENCLAW. now, they’re TWENTY-THREE and A COLLECTOR AT BORGIN & BURKES.  stacks of old tomes , the pages worn with old scribbles and thoughts  ;  loopholes found in the riddles and puzzles dictated by a bronze eagle  ;  neat plaited hair tied back with ribbon  ;  forgotten glasses sat atop a blonde head  ;  fingers dancing across piano keys — a respite from her indifference  ;  dreams and ambition drowned by duty  ;  eloquent cursive on catalogue cards  ;  smiles that don’t quite reach her eyes  are the best way to describe them. it doesn’t say in their file, but word around the street is that they’re a DEATH EATER. 

under  the  cut  you  will  find  more  info  about  miss  anastasia  selwyn  and  all  of  her  crushed  hopes  and  dreams  :-)  for  more  about  her  check  out  her  ABOUT  PAGE  &  PINTEREST  !!

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐒

FULL NAME:  anastasia  amaryllis  selwyn 

AKA:  ana  ,  the  few  close  to  her  may  refer  to  her  as  stasi  /  stasia  /  stas

AGE:  twenty  -  three  years  old

BIRTHDAY:  january  twelfth  (  capricorn  ) 

GENDER:  cis  woman

PRONOUNS:  she/her

SEXUALITY:  biromantic  demisexual  bisexual   

BLOOD STATUS:  pureblood

FORMER HOUSE:  ravenclaw

OCCUPATION:  collector  for  borgin  and  burkes

anastasia  is  a  trained  curse  breaker.  she  underwent  official  training  by  a  mentor  after  graduating  from  hogwarts  and  hoped  to  do  her  own  independent  research.  however  ,  her  family  ‘  encouraged  ’  her  to  accept  a  position  from  borgin  and  burkes  and  adjust  her  focus  to  dark  magic  infused  objects.        

FACECLAIM:  florence  pugh

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐑

POSITIVE TRAITS:  well  mannered  ,  hardworking  ,  intelligent  ,  honest  ,  passionate  ,  loyal  ,  dutiful  ,  creative  ,  adventurous  ,  sharp  

NEGATIVE TRAITS:  cynical  ,  pretentious  ,  know  -  it  -  all  ,  cruel  ,  bored  easily  ,  domineering  ,  impatient  ,  cold  ,  guarded  ,  secretive       

DEMEANOR:  there  is  nothing  particular  warm  about  anastasia.  she  likes  to  keep  her  distance  from  those  she  does  not  know  well  ,  but  she  hardly  goes  out  of  her  way  to  make  close  friends  ...  she  values  intelligence  and  creativity above  all  else  though  her  actions  and  words  may  not  accurately  convey  that.  she  is  fairly  talented  at  masking  herself  for  the  sake  of  the  selwyn  reputation.  for  that  reason  ,  she  comes  across  like  a  dutiful  pureblood  heir.  once  her  guard  is  breached  ,  she  proves  to  be  a  sharp  and  adventurous  friend  who  cares  more  about  what  knowledge  is  available  to  her  than  the  politics  her  family  is  so  obsessed  with.  still  ,  she  is  a  dedicated  daughter  who  has  already  given  up  on  her  personal  ambitions  for  the  sake  of  her  family.  

𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓  (  themes  of  neglect  and  emotional  manipulation  throughout  )

the  selwyn  manor  was  a  lonely  place  to  grow  up  in.  just  outside  of  london  and  typically  empty  ,  it  was  no  place  for  a  child.  and  yet  ,  anastasia  prevailed.  from  childhood  to  adolescence  ,  she  was  her  own  best  friend  and  only  companion.  in  the  early  years  ,  the  only  respite  from  her  isolation  was  her  private  tutor  and  the  manor  staff.  her  parents  were  far  too  busy  to  remain  at  the  manor  —  or  so  they  said.  both  were  high  up  in  the  ministry.  there  they  would  spend  all  of  their  time  ,  usually  separate  despite  being  married.  theirs  was  a  marriage  aimed  to   unite  pureblood  families  ,  there  was  nothing  close  to  love  between  them.    

anastasia  didn’t  know  any  better  ,  didn’t  know  that  other  children  experienced  a  different  upbringing.  the  manor’s  housekeeper  and  her  tutor  instilled  the  proper  manners  of  a  sacred  28  pureblood  ,  as  well  as  educating  her  in  a  curriculum  her  parents  —  fervid  blood  elitists  —  approved  of.  the  reputation  of  the  selwyn  name  was  at  stake  after  all.   

aside  from  her  tutoring  and  etiquette  lessons  ,  she  learned  to  busy  herself  ,  learned  to  look  to  books  and  music  and  exploration  for  entertainment.  she  was  happy  on  her  own  and  spent  her  time  learning  various  instruments  as  well  as  mapping  out  the  acreage  of  the  selwyn  estate.    

after  anastasia  grew  out  of  the  years  of  babbling  and  toddling  about  ,  her  mother  began  to  make  more  appearances  at  the  house  ,  aiming  to  finish  the  lessons  the  staff  had  begun.  anastasia’s  time  alone  came  to  an  end  and  she  was  introduced  to  the  expectations  placed  on  her  as  the  only  selwyn  child.  she  was  allowed  to  keep  up  certain  hobbies  ;  reading  and  the  piano  were  fine.  but  mucking  about  the  yard  was  no  longer  permitted.  the  selwyns  demanded  to  have  a  well  mannered  young  lady.  that  demand  rang  in  anastasia’s  head  when  she  turned  eleven  and  was  sent  off  to  hogwarts  ...  

the  selwyns  were  not  TERRIBLY  HAPPY  to  learn  of  their  only  daughter’s  sorting  into  ravenclaw.  though  it  was  nothing  to  disown  anastasia  over  ;  they  accepted  the  turn  of  fate  and  merely  tightened  the  leash.  what  they  didn’t  know  was  that  the  sorting  hat  had  given  her  a  choice  ,  slytherin  or  ravenclaw  ,  and  anastasia  did  not  regret  her  decision.  it  was  the  one  rebellion  that  she  allotted  herself. 

her  time  in  hogwarts  was  spent  following  directions  as  per  usual  —  and  not  those  dictated  by  the  staff  and  professors.  her  parents  had  made  it  clear  who  she  was  to  be  seen  with  ,  what  she  was  to  do  with  her  time  ,  and  so  on.  it  helped  that  anastasia  liked  school.  she  enjoyed  learning  new  things  and  discussing  research  with  her  professors.  she  had  a  particular  passion  for  spell  engineering  and  the  history  of  magic.  

anastasia  did  as  her  parents  told  her  to  but  never  fully  committed  to  the  social  circles  they  expected  her  to  be  in.  like  in  her  childhood  she  preferred  solitude.  as  luck  would  have  it  anastasia  found  the  room  of  requirement  her  third  year  and  never  looked  back.  there  she  had  a  place  just  for  herself  where  she  could  read  and  dream  and  pick  up  old  hobbies.  she  continued  to  play  piano  and  struck  up  a  fantasy  of  leaving  the  wizarding  world  behind  to  pursue  magic  ...  a  reality  that  would  never  be  hers.  

she  coasted  through  her  years  at  hogwarts  ,  never  becoming  a  prefect  or  a  club  member  but  staying  pretty  close  to  the  top  of  her  class  throughout  all  seven  years.  upon  graduation  she  accepted  an  opportunity  from  a  gringotts  curse  breaker  to  train  alongside  side  them  on  their  travels.  after  two  years  her  parents  asked  her  to  return  and  to  accept  a  position  at  borgin  and  burkes  as  a  collector.  she  would  never  voice  her  disappointment  though  her  mentor  asked  her  to  ...  anastasia  was  all  too  dedicated  to  her  family  to  say  no.  

it  was  through  her  new  line  of  work  that  she  ended  up  being  introduced  to  the  circle  of  death  eaters.  she  had  never  expected  to  become  one  of  them  until  her  parents  visited  the  family  manor  with  dark  marks  decorating  their  skin.  anastasia  had  been  taught  to  listen  and  abide  by  her  family’s  rules.  when  they  said  jump  ,  she  would  ...  she  had  been  wrestled  into  submission  by  her  parents  that  she  could  not  even  dream  of  defying  them.  she  merely  accepted  her  new  fate  and  joined  the  ranks  of  death  eaters.  

anastasia  is  a  purveyor  of  dark  magic  goods  and  cursed  objects.  the  first  to  hear  of  her  newest  acquisitions  are  her  parents  who  then  bring  the  information  to  the  rest  of  their  group.  and  while  anastasia  knows  it  is  wrong  she  is  far  too  scared  of  what  would  happen  if  she  were  to  go  against  her  parents’  wishes.

TLDR  ;  anastasia  selwyn  is  the  only  daughter  of  alden  and  cornelia  selwyn.  she  has  been  raised  to  follow  their  orders  blindly  which  has  led  her  to  joining  the  death  eaters  alongside  her  parents  —  not  to  say  that  she  herself  hasn’t  perpetuated  the  violence  and  harm  of  blood  supremacy  ,  she  was  raised  to  believe  in  it  and  has  echoed  the  sentiments  before.  she  is  currently  a  collector  at  borgin  and  burkes  who  is  far  more  interested  in  the  research  itself  than  the  sale  side  of  the  job.       

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

customers  :  anybody  in  the  market  for  cursed  goods?  anastasia  is  your  girl !!

her  accepted  social  circle  :  as  mentioned  in  her  about  ,  there  were  people  that  her  parents  approved  of  anastasia  socializing  with  ,  namely  most  slytherin  purebloods.  anastasia  definitely  comes  across  as  a  follower  type  who  will  just  nod  and  agree  with  whatever  is  being  said.  an  exception  to  this  may  be  someone  she  actually  struck  up  a  solid  friendship  with.  

rivals  /  enemies  /  antagonistic  :  so  like  ,,  marlene  doesn’t  like  anastasia.  just  gonna  write  that  into  the  headcanon  right  there.  most  likely  people  like  marlene  will  not  get  along  with  anastasia  because  of  their  polarized  political  views.  however  ,  other  people  who  might  not  get  along  with  anastasia  include  anyone  who’s  tired  of  anastasia’s  general  demeanor  or  maybe  has  a  personal  vendetta  against  her  and  her  family??  gimme  all  of  it 

exceptions  to  the  rules  :  kinda  want  anastasia  to  have  a  friend  who  may  had  to  wear  her  down  for  the  friendship  to  happen  &  maybe  they’re  not  the  kind  of  person  her  parents  want  her  around  —  could  be  a  known  order  member  ,  a  muggleborn  or  squib  ,  literally  anything.  please  give  me  the  cute  &  soft  friend  to  anastasia’s  cold  &  mean  self.   

that  could  alternatively  turn  romantic  because  who  doesn’t  love  a  cinnamon  roll  &  asshole  couple  alfdkj   

give  me  all  the  dynamics  pls  !!

#mm.intro #( ♙. 𝒇𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 ⍮ 𝐈 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 / study )

[catilinas]

I'm doing tragedy this term at uni and have never actually watched/read the terror but you've got me so hyped about it!! do u think I can spin it as a tragedy in the technical sense of the word (also I think you're great)

gvfghgy i’ve been watching the t*rror for Two Whole Weeks and my tragedy course only starts on friday so like. my tragedy opinions come entirely from classical civ gcse and rene girard. you probably know the technical sense of the word better than me. aristotle? is that where people get definitions from? who knows. BUT you can totally connect the terror and tragedy because they are both about the sacrificial crisis, although one Big difference in How they are about the sacrificial crisis is that (greek) tragedy itself functions As sacrifice while a tv show does Not do that. but yea in tragedy and in the terror the conflict comes from people! violence comes from the INSIDE, even if the Form itself tries to obscure that! and fate is real

there are also lots of overlapping content things like i’ve been thinking abt anne carson’s intro to grief lessons where she says abt tragedy “in crisis their souls are visible” and how that is 100% the terror to me!!! and more specifically the terror thinks a LOT about the treatment of the corpse and maybe it’s just because i studied antigone at gcse as well as A level but yea that’s. very antigone hours imo. one day i will make a coherent post about it. also i know in the terror the gore isn’t especially gory but it did remind me a lot of the senecan tragedy i’ve read (although seneca lacks the poetry being in the pity aspect) and honestly episode 10 is huge thyestes moods complete with hickey basically being like “he burps! i am the sexiest god” (line 911) 

tldr. you probably can. you should. watch it but also read violence and the sacred because it has some really sexy takes on tragedy and also you will go batshit

#coherence? absolutely not #terrorposting #beeps #Anonymous

[strivingscribe]

ILIC ~ Ch 25

It’s Lost Its Charm by  MsMoon

Chapter 25 ~ RSVP This

Chapters: 25/?

Chapter Navigation: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15,16, 17, 18,19,20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25,

Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age,

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Violence,

Relationships: I feel like it’s a little early for that…

Summary: As dreams went, she supposed being inside Dragon Age wasn’t too bad… At least she wasn’t the Herald (again). Or the Warden (again). Or Hawke (again).

Notes: Whelp...here I am again from my monthly hiatus :| This is getting to be a habit. Thanks for all the comments and well-wishes from everyone :) It really cheered me up.

There was this whole mess with the government nearly pulling my financial aid, and struggling with that and...well TLDR: I’m back on financial aid. Which means I won’t have to drop out of college 2 classes away from my bachelors! Yay!

As always, prompts, links, and tidbits are always available here on Striving Scribe. Hey :) If you like what I’m about, and you want to help me survive the librarian's ruthless summer reading program, you could totally follow my tumblr and heart some entries :3 That’d be cool of you.

And hey…thanks :)

Amy is not sleeping right now, she is probably up and being shadowed by Solas or Siheta or both.

Magpie is standing on the field, having given both Sam and Cullen a 'report' about the last couple of days.

“Is there a reason for this change in behavior?” Sam asks, squinting in her general direction.

“Is there a reason you’re worried about her levels of compliance?” Solas asks—obviously Siheta is shadowing Amy—coming up behind her.

Sam shrugs. “It’s just… not very like Amy.” Sam grunts, his squint shifting to the ground.

“It is uncommon.” Solas murmurs.

“Uncommon?” Cullen half chuckles. “Uncommon is a kind word.” His eyebrows rise as he shakes his head. “Amy would more likely storm this field before a week is up than she would accept her rest.”

“It could just be that her wounds were that severe.” Sam reminded, a bleak expression settling in his eyes.

Magpie takes a deep breath through her nose, letting it sift out. She meets Cullen’s eyes, the gesture lasting long enough for his gaze to sharpen. He recognizes her internal battle and begins to pay attention more keenly.

“I told her.” Magpie announces.

Solas’s head droops, his molars grinding only enough that she can notice, and she can because she’s been paying attention to his behavior a lot more lately.

Cullen’s eyes narrow and Sam’s widen, the evidence of suspicion and surprise side by side.

“You told her.” Cullen said, his voice deepening—a question, asking for clarification as well as demanding ‘what were you thinking!’ at the same time.

“Yes. I told her. I told her about her elevated status and that she isn’t to worry about the field or serving in the tavern any longer.”

“Why would you do that?” Cullen asks, both affronted and incredulous. He takes a step towards her, but she marches into his space.

“It’s called being decent, halla-head!” she growls through bared teeth. “It’s also common sense. As in it should be obvious, but since you’re not used to dealing with it—‘it’ being ‘women’ or ‘people in general’— I’ll spell it out for you.”

Cullen glares down at her, more in a ‘put out’ sort of way than conveying any genuine form of anger. He’s the commander of the inquisition, and she is a tiny Dalish girl-child… she should not step into his space.

“Please, keep your voice down.” Cullen demands, following his own advice.

“Maybe it’s escaped your keen knowledge, but Amy—like almost every other person in the world—needs time to process things. She has a reaction, and she processes, then she comes to a magnanimous decision. She did it with Bull, she did it with Leliana. She’s gonna do it with you and Josephine, but you have to give her the chance to do it.”

Cullen blinked, but looked away, towards the horizon.

“Wait, what happened with Bull?” Sam asks, and while his tone sounds innocent enough… Magpie knows that it could result in anything but innocent intentions.

“I. Don’t. Know.” Magpie grumbled, half-turning towards his direction. “It was when you had me shadowing her. I wasn’t close enough to actually listen in. But one night they had a heart to heart. She said some things, he said some things, he hurt her feelings somehow, and she withdrew. It’s what she does, because she’s afraid that if she’s around a person when her emotions are all raw, she’s going to do something she regrets. She knows she needs that time, and so she does it.”

“That’s very astute of you to notice.” Solas says, one of his infamous backhanded compliments that creeps under her skin. It wouldn’t be half so annoying if he didn’t sound so ridiculously surprised.

“That’s what I do. I pay attention to people.” She turns back to Cullen, her tone softening just slightly, because she didn't need to make an enemy here. Cullen needed to understand why the decision had been necessary, that’s all. “And in that, I made the ‘executive decision’ to tell Amy. Because she needs time to process all the decisions you’ve made for her without consulting her, otherwise she might-could break your pretty face.” Magpie took a deep breath before whispering. “You’re welcome.”

“Aw, you think Cullen’s pretty too?” Sam asked, ever willing to deflect tension with humor.

Cullen’s face settles into an expression that reeks of ‘no’.

Magpie turns and begins walking away.

“This conversation isn’t over.” Cullen decides.

“Actually it is.” Magpie says, stopping. “There’s really nothing else to say. I told her. She knows. She has known for three days now.”

Cullen blinks rapidly, assimilating this information with everything he already knew of Amy, her condition, her personality, and...it doesn’t make sense.

“Do you think…” Sam begins. “Do you think she’s been more docile because she’s hurt or…?”

“You mean because of the injuries she’s sustained?” Solas asks. Sam nods and Solas answers by shaking his head. Magpie answer with a barked laugh.

“Very well.” Cullen says, his entire body shifting as though to brace for impact. “Why do you think her behavior has changed?”

Solas surveys him for a moment before looking to Magpie, as if to say ‘well, go on then’.

“Well.” Magpie takes a deep breath. “First, she’s hurt. Like, her feelings are hurt. I’d tell you to put yourself in her place, but I don’t think you can.” she pronounced, ignoring their looks of indignation. “No offense intended, it’s just impossible to think like she thinks. She’s worked hard, really really hard, to be welcome on the field and the tavern is where she can enjoy her time with everyone. So, losing that smarts. Also, the fact that someone made a decision for her without consulting her is bound to rankle.”

Solas was nodding, but he held up a hand in Sam’s general direction when the man tried to open his mouth. It was amusing to watch this silent exchange.

“At the same time, she probably thinks she’s heinously selfish for wanting to remain on the field and in the tavern, but she knows those are the places where she’s most comfortable. She’s not used to having others make decisions for her, but it's pretty obvious that she has had some measure of authority that delegates and dictates decisions..at least in some area of her life... So, she’s trying to accept her new circumstances with grace and maturity.”

Cullen stops squinting at the horizon, turning back in their general direction so that he can regard both Magpie and Solas with a sigh.

“Well.. that’s good then.” Sam said, all of the awkward radiating off of him.

“I would give her a few more days….” Solas advised, and Magpie was quick to nod her opinion. “By then, she should be more resigned and accepting.”

Now it was Cullen’s turn to grind his molars. “Good advice.” he grumbled almost to himself. Then his eyes landed on Magpie. “As for your ‘executive decision’—”

“What about it.” It wasn’t a question so much as a challenge.

Cullen took a deep breath, as if to remind himself not to rage. “Your ‘executive decision’ while not within your rights—”

“Take it to your Andraste.” Magpie snapped.

“I beg your pardon?” Cullen’s voice became low and dangerous.

“Maybe this has escaped your notice, but we’re not friends and I don’t work for you.” Magpie reminded. “I told Amy because if I’m working for anyone, it’s her. Not you, not Sam, not those primped up chantry girls, and not your Andraste.”

“And you think she would be happy to know you’ve been conveying reports to us?” Cullen asked.

“Well, since she told me to continue keeping you informed?....Yeah. I think she’d be fine with it.” Cullen blinked rapidly, assimilating this new information. Sam let out a descending whistle.

“When did this happen?” Solas asks.

“You sleep a lot.” Magpie reminded him.

His eyebrows rose and he gave the barest hint of a nod. “Sleep is sacred.”

This was his only defense.

It almost made Magpie smirk. Almost.

Ok, it did make her smirk.

“Wait a minute.” Sam interceded. “Amy told you to keep reporting back to Cullen and me?”

“Yes.” Magpie grumbled, shrugging. “She seemed to know it was going on even when I was telling her. Said you probably would feel better knowing anyway.” Cullen’s face settled in an exhausted scowl.

“She has been a superb patient.” Solas reminded. “Especially over the past few days.”

“Well, that’s because the pair of you are intent on draining her soul.”

“That seems a little dramatic.” Cullen grumbled.

“No it isn’t. You’ve enacted restrictions on her that completely rob her of her identity.” She pointed to Cullen. “You don’t want her on the field, and she’s fought hard to get here,” She pointed to Solas. “And you refuse to allow her to sing, and what else does she even have if she can’t sing? It’s literally the thing everyone asks her for, and it’s the easiest way she can express herself.”

“Why can’t she sing?” Sam asked, peering at Solas curiously.

Solas glared momentarily at Magpie, but then he nodded before explaining. “Amy is using a type of magic, as I’m sure you can tell.”

“She did manage to heal a wound in her back just with a song.” Cullen said with a grim nod.

“She was not a mage before she passed through the breech.”

“...seriously?” Sam asked.

Solas shook his head. “Indeed. And it appears that the magic of the Fade does not touch her… as though there is some sort of seal around her mind or spirit that keeps them separated.”

“But that’s...that’s good...isn’t it?” Sam was asking, not knowing the first thing about magic.

“Yes, and no. Amy does not dream in the Fade, she is untouched by its magic and its influence. However, that begs the question, where is her magic coming from?”

Cullen’s eyes narrowed. “Where?”

“I assume it has to come from within. This would mean that her own energy is what powers her magic...and if that is the case, one must question what would happen if that energy should run out.”

There was a beat of silence as the two men considered this question.

“Are you suggesting that Amy could die by expending too much of her energy via...singing?” Cullen asked.

Solas shrugged. “I’m only certain that I don’t know. However, if the well she draws from is internal...it would be better to focus on conservation instead of experimentation.”

“That’s his answer.” Magpie said. “Siheta says that ‘careful observation’ is more appropriate. Elossa has also said that it follows that her energy is something that can renew itself. Bax doesn’t know what to think, or if he does he’s content to look thoughtful and remain silent.”

“And they are experts in the area.” Solas said, more as a soffing reminder that no one really knew for a fact what was going on with Amy.

Magpie gave him the most bizarre expression. It was equal parts frustration and exhaustion. “When you actually find an expert in whatever it is that Amy is, you let me know.” She replied. “I’m just saying, yours isn’t the only opinion.” Solas only nodded, albeit reluctantly.

“Have you shared these opinions with Amy?” Solas asked.

“What makes you think Siheta hasn’t already?”

“What makes you assume she has?”

“This..” Magpie messaged her brow. “Is a circular conversation, at best.” she sighed. “Besides, if you’re argument is that Amy’s too weak to expend energy, magical or otherwise, then that won’t be so for much longer. She’s gotten much stronger in the past week.”

“That’s… fantastic.” Sam grumbled. “I’ve never heard of anyone taking an arrow to the back and just walking around within a week.”

“It hit her in such a way that it stuck between her shoulder blade and ribs.” Cullen murmured. “I was more worried about her lung being punctured, but I think it was obvious that didn’t happen.”

“Why do you say that?”

“...well...she was singing immediately afterward.” Cullen reminded. “One doesn’t puncture a lung and strike up a rousing song.”

Solas seemed to be considering that critically. “I was more concerned with the muscles that were severed near her arm, but those seem to have mended.”

“...entirely?” Cullen asked.

“Not quite.” Solas amended. “She continues to report lingering aches and twinges.” Solas reported. “I am confident that, with diligent attention given to exercise, her left arm will regain a full range of motion within a few months.”

They all seemed to think over these details before Magpie murmured. “That’s crazy.”

“It is!” Sam seconded. He was relieved someone else finally said what he’d been thinking.

“I have never heard of such a swift recovery.” Cullen reported. “Ever.”

“Could she be doing something without even knowing that she’s doing something?” Magpie asked, her question directed at Solas.

“.. some form of ambient magic?”

“I don’t know, I’m asking you.”

He breathed out a soft laugh before nodding. “I don’t think it’s outside the realm of possibility.”

“You’re saying she’s using whatever energy she has to...what? Just...bridge the gap? Make herself well?” Cullen asked.

Solas thought over the prospect for a moment before nodding. “It is possible that is happening… though, her lacking of any magical background causes her to….falter.” He trailed off. “She is unschooled in channeling energy or willing magical forces to obey her… it would make sense that this is taking her so much time to accomplish, because she doesn’t know what she is doing.”

“She could potentially heal herself entirely.” Sam’s statement was less of a statement. It sounded more like he was entreating Solas to make this leap into a reality.

Solas sighed, rolling his shoulders back. “It is not outside the realm of possibility.”

“Could she be trained?” Cullen asked.

“Yes. That is to say, she would be a most dutiful student.” Solas murmured almost absently.

“You seem genuine and yet uncertain.” Cullen eyed him expectantly.

“Amy would apply herself to any training we offered her.” Solas deciphered, illustrating his point before following up with his concerns. “I can promise no definite results, as her circumstances are distinct, and she has received no previous training.” he shrugged. “However, it bears stating that no one can become such a disciplined schlar and fighter without approaching training in a diligent fashion. If Amy were to allow herself to be trained… there’s no telling what all she could learn.”

There was a second while Magpie, Cullen, and Sam examined Solas’s words.

“Sooo… she can try, but who knows?” Magpie murmured.

Solas smiled almost bitingly at her. “Quite.”

“I assume you intend to tell Amy of this?” Cullen asked, not quite looking at Magpie. It was clear that is who he was questioning.

“Yes.”

He nodded. He took in a deep breath through his nose, thankful that the cold air no longer seared his sinuses. “That isn’t the worst thing I could imagine.”

“And I’m taking Bax with me when I go back to her.”

“What?”

“Why?” Solas asked.

“Because she misses him.”

Cullen stared at her with his mouth open, but was otherwise silent. He shook his head and shrugged, “Well… I don’t think I’m in charge of that, but I don’t suppose it would be a problem.”

“Who is in charge of that?” Sam asked. Cullen only shook his head. But then the horn signaling approaching travelers sounded, gaining their attention.

“Good. Good meeting.” Magpie said with a nod. “I’ll be on my way then.”

“Magpie.” Cullen’s words stopped her from leaving, but she still kept her distance. “There’s really no need for any hostility… None of us want anything more than to keep her safe.”

Magpie’s stance softened, but only somewhat. “Yeah. Well. Just remember sometimes, that ‘keeping’ feels a lot like a stranglehold.” she reminded before finally taking her leave. Cullen watched her leave, his mind working quickly.

“So… Magpie is working for Amy.” he murmured.

“I’m uncertain that statement means exactly what you think it means.” Solas amended. “I believe Magpie simply acts upon Amy’s behalf. It isn’t as if Amy has employed her… in fact, I think such a notion would upset Amy.” Both Sam and Cullen gave him looks of confusion. “Amy doesn’t like the idea of servants.”

“Exactly how much is going on around here that we don’t know about?” Sam mused absently. Cullen half scoffed in response.

“The two of you have an acute focus. Commander, your focus is on this army, and rightfully so. Samuel, you have been doing everything you can to keep the words of your inner circle in the forefront of your mind. This allows certain smaller things to slip through the cracks.”

“You don’t say.” Cullen half grumbled.

Solas eyed the both of them carefully before continuing. “Perhaps… the two of you have been working strenuously for too long.” he mulled over his thoughts, rotating a single idea in his mind before a smirk signaled his decision. “You might consider taking a break for your midday meal. The tavern is quite welcoming, and very sparsely occupied before evening. I believe you’ll find the experience a welcome change.”

Sam couldn’t help grinning as he eyed Solas with no small amount of suspicion. “What are you plotting, Solas?”

Solas worked to hide his sly expression. Barely well enough, as it was only reflected in his tone. “Only helping you to learn more without having to hear about it in another ‘report’.” Solas said. “If that will be all, I am expected to help Adan.” with that Solas left, not waiting to see what the two would do with his advice.

Sam watched him go with an abrupt chuckle. “Well? Shall we?”

“What?” Cullen asked. “Take lunch in the tavern?” He squinted at the seemingly endless rows of men under his command. “For what purpose?”

“Solas wouldn’t have said anything if there wasn’t something of significant worth to be gained.” Sam argued.

“Do they even have food at the tavern?” Cullen countered. “I assumed there was only drinking to be had there.”

“So we get food and go there with it. Why bother struggling over this when you want to go there as much as I do?”

Cullen’s gaze snapped to Sam. “What makes you assume that?”

“Oh, go on.” Sam grumbled, his head tossing back as he rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. “You’re just as curious as I am about it.”

“Curiosity from one of Solas’s vague statements isn’t always indicative of a reward of any value.”

“Stop being obstinate for five seconds, and admit that having a meal away from muster wouldn’t be horrible.” Sam grumbled.

Cullen sighed heavily. “That much is true.”

“Now, why exactly would the tavern be such a bad idea?” Sam asked.

Cullen considered the question before finally admitting. “Perhaps it’s just that the notion came from Solas. The man isn’t known for being forthright, and while I’ve no real evidence against him… I don’t entirely trust him.”

Sam snorted out a laugh. “Of course you don’t. He’s squirrelly.” Sam took a deep breath. “Well… with or without you, I’m having lunch in the tavern. It’ll be nice to figure something out without reading about it in a report.”

Cullen seemed to consider that before he nodded. “Yes… I suppose that is a small pay off.”

Sam paused for a second. “So...you’re coming with?” Cullen sighed again, and Sam half glared at him. “Hey, don’t make this sound like such a chore.”

“What’s a chore?” The two of them glanced over to see Ser Wystan approaching them from the direction of the field.

"Taking lunch in the tavern.” Sam offered.

Wystan’s eyebrows rose a touch. “A change of scenery wouldn’t kill you, Commander.”

Cullen chortled. “Really? Whatever happened to ‘this field requires absolute focus’?”

“After all that’s happened?” Wystan grumbled. “I think every man on this field understands the severity of their offices.”

“Care to join us?” Sam asked, a smirk tugging at the edge of his mouth. “Evidently this venture has something to do with Amy.” He added as incentive.

Wystan blinked, a strange mixture of hope and gravity settling on his features. “It has been a while since I heard anything about our little lady.”

“‘Our little lady’?” Cullen asked, drifting to follow Sam as he made his way to the mess hall.

Wystan smirked. “It’s ironic, I know… but the men have been calling her that for a while. It’s not untrue...she is a tiny thing.”

Sam barked out a laugh. “Tiny but mighty.” he shook his head. “That should be our slogan for the Inquisition.” Even Cullen laughed at that.

The mess hall was longer than most of the buildings in Haven, but held very few luxuries… if one could call thing like beds and fireplaces a luxury. In southern Ferelden, fireplaces were necessary for life. All the mess hall had was a large stove in the far corner, which the servants used to keep large portions of food hot. There were tables and chairs aplenty, and most were full with the men that were either off-shift or soon to receive new orders for the coming week.

It wasn’t uncommon for people to take their lunch elsewhere… Especially those of higher office. So no one seemed overly bothered that the three moved through the building without pausing to consider the tables.

The tavern was a completely different matter. Sam, with all of the aplomb of an ogre, kicked the tavern door open. Both Cullen and Wystan winced slightly at this, but they found another focus right away.

“Well, well, well.” Sam murmured with heavy suspicion in his voice.

There was a beat of silence as the three men entered the tavern and let their eyes adjust to the change of light.

At the head of the table, Amy sat. Magpie was on her right and Varric was on her left. Krem sat beside Magpie, and Bull sat on the other side of Krem. Sera was across the room, sitting on top of the opposite table.

“Hiiiii!” Amy half sang out, waving at them.

“Fancy meeting you here.” Magpie mused, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“What?” Wystan snapped. “It’s not a bad thing for a man to take a break away from the field.”

“Mm-hm!” Amy hummed in agreement. “Sit.” she offered, motioning to their table.

Sam sat at the opposite end of the table from Amy, and Wystan sat on his right, with Cullen taking the space at Sam’s left and directly beside Bull.

“It feels weird to be eating here while you guys are just...here...without food.” Sam murmured, giving his bowl an almost guilty glance.

“Bax.” Amy chirped, smiling as if that were an explanation enough.

“Bax is getting food for us…” Magpie murmured. She gave Amy a half glance before continuing. “I mean, I was going to, but Amy insisted.” Amy only nodded, her eyes closed, a strange look of satisfaction on her face.

“And we ate already.” Krem said waving his hand in a dismissive manner. “We just show up here to see Amy.”

“So…” Sam murmured, trying to pretend he was interested in his food more so than the company. “You...come here often?”

Amy chuckled at that, because it sounded like a cheesy pick-up line. This behavior made those around her stare at her in obvious curiosity, but she just shook her head.

“Late-ly.” Amy said, sliding a look to Magpie. “Two? Two days?” Magpie nodded, confirming that this practice was only two days old.

“You’re looking better than we last saw you at least.” Wystan murmured, and while Amy would never describe him as ‘soft’ or ‘warm’ his expression had softened and he did seem warmer. “A lot less Tiger and a lot more Lady, it seems. But better.” He said with a grin.

“Huh?” Bull grunted.

“Ah, it’s just something she said ages ago. Never made any sense to me.” Wystan grumbled.

“Is suh-pose t’be.. The Lady or the Tiger.” Amy said with a grin. “But, I said ‘I am the Lady and the Tiger’.”

“...ok…” Varric allowed before finalizing. “But what is it?”

Amy let out a soft chuckle. “Story.”

“Ooh.” Varric practically purred.

“Oh-oh-oh!” Magpie practically vibrated in her seat. “Is it anything like that moon girl in the sailor suit you told me about?” she asked, lacing her fingers together to cradle her chin.

Amy chuckled softly, shaking her head.“‘Bout a king...he is… a good king, but quite mad. He has a thing… some-times, let’s fate judge people.” She explained. “Has an aaah-reena. Two doors. Unmarked. Behind one, a be-you-tiful woman. Other, vicious tiger.”

“Whoa…” Bull lowed. “That’s… really twisted.”

“Ha!” Sam barked. “I get it. You’re the lady and the tiger, the trial of fate.”

The table shook as Bull smacked it with a single open hand. “That’s it! You are a tiger?”

“...what’s a tiger?” Magpie grumbled.

“It’s a big cat.”

Amy half snorted. “Like a puma.” she said in a droning voice. Magpie gave her a comically ‘upset’ look, her eyes wide and her mouth drawn into a flat line.

“Uh..more like a lion… well, bigger than a lion sometimes.” Bull supplied, utterly missing the joke because he’d never seen Red vs Blue… He would love Red vs Blue. “Had them back in the wilder parts of the jungles of Par Vollen.” He shook his head, as if to shake away a rueful memory. “They’re solitary cats, so I guess a Puma isn’t too far off…now that I think about it.” he shrugged. “But really, they’re bigger than lions and meaner too. They’re all orange with black stripes, and white paws and bellies.”

“Bad es’perience?” Amy asked.

“Well, I mean… there was this one time we saw a tiger cub, right?” He shook his head, his eye widening almost comically. “And we’re looking at it all like, ‘oh hey, look it looks so fluffy and cute!’” He sat up straighter. “No.”

“Mama?” Amy asked, wincing slightly.

He nodded. “Those things are so fierce, but they still look so awesome.” Bull said enthusiastically, not forgetting his fear from the encounter, but choosing to highlight the similarities to Amy. “You’re a lot like that. You look like you should be all cuddly...and...well, I mean, you can be and all, but…” He shook his head. “When it’s time to fight, you’re all prowl and deadly focus. Like,” he turned to face the opposite end of the table. “She literally hunkers down and you think, ‘well this is it. This is how I go.’ as she’s getting ready to pounce.” He turned back to Amy. “Did you just master acrobatic gladiatorial combat wherever you're from?” Bull said, eyeing her suspiciously. Amy just blinked at him, shaking her head as if he were completely insane.

“I think your account of this fight of yours may be dominating your opinion…” Wystan murmured.

“I was there too, and I have to say…” Krem shook his head. “It was…” he thumped the table with two quick strikes. “Bam-bam, two hits. Done.”

“She scrambled my brains.” Bull grumbled.

“She’s right here.” Amy grumbled back.

The door to the tavern opened, Solas stood, holding the door open for Bax. He was handling three plates of food.

"What happened to heling Adan?" Sam asked Solas suspiciously.

"It's time for taking the mid-day meal." Solas glossed over the answer, wafting into his usual corner.

"Uh-huh..."Sam grunted, still eyeing the elf with undisguised doubts.

“Sorry it took so long.” Bax apologized, setting on plate in front of Amy and the other in front of Magpie. Then he sat on the other side of Varric with his own plate. “What were you talking about?”

Amy smirked. “Crouching tiger, hidden Dragon.”

“I have no idea what that means, but it sounds awesome.” Bull said with such gravity, Amy almost missed the humor in the statement.

“What… what is that?” Magpie asked.

“‘Nother story.” Amy explained.

“You like stories, huh, Charmer?” Varric asked with a smirk.

Amy nodded, because really the only common thread that tied her interests together was that each shared an immersive narrative.

“You know…” Varric drug out the sentence, as if he were actually thinking over what he was about to say, when it was apparent that he knew full and well what was up his own sleeves. “I could procure a copy of some choice literature for you…..” he offered, before offhandedly adding. “...if you’d like.”

Amy’s face transformed, her eyes widening and her mouth gaping in a joyous smile… only to fall into a resigned pout. “No use.” she said with a tired shrug. She had never been one to play with her food, and that wasn’t going to happen here either.

“What?” Varric asked. “You don’t think you’ll have the time to read? You are, kind of indisposed at the moment, Charmer.”

Amy shook her head before finally revealing. “Can’t read.” she said, slipping even further into a pout.

There were the confounded looks, the wide eyed and aghast expressions. And then, the sound of silence before,

“WHAT?!”

Sam winced, gripping his nearly empty plate as if to protect it from brigands. “Fuck! Sera….” he took a deep breath to settle himself. “I forgot you were even here.”

Sera huffed, before actually standing on the table. “Alright, first off.” She pointed to Sam. “Rude! And second,” She looked to Amy. “Whatcha mean, you can’t read? How’n all fuck can you not read! You can do fancy-pants numbers shite!”

“Can! Was taught...” Amy looked away and shrugged. “... but...can’t read your lang-wichs.”

It had been something that smarted so often, she had purposefully cast it from her mind. She had been monumentally grateful that the spoken languages of Thedas held true from the game… unfortunately, that held true to the writing as well. All the documents and signs here were also similar to those in the game…so there was no way to read them…. She’d tried, but it was impossible without a guide.

And now there was a room full of people she loved and admired, and all of them were gaping at her like she was some sort of mutant… then again, maybe she was.

“I’ll admit, that is….bizarre...but, we know that you are not from… here.” Solas said carefully, and Bull seemed to tense up. It wasn’t overly obvious, he just abandoned his slouch for sitting up straight.

“We’ll just have to teach you.” Bax said, as if he were telling her she’d need a scarf because it was cold out. It was so obvious when he said it like that.

“Yeah!” Magpie crowed, suddenly excited. “You know, reading common isn’t my strong suit, so lessons wouldn’t hurt me either.”

Magpie’s enthusiasm seeped into Amy, brightening her mood significantly.

“Sooo..” Sera half-sang as she slid back into a seated position atop her table. “You can write and read...just not in any language we know…?” Her face scrunched up. “Howz’at any good for anybody anyways?”

Amy winced at the use of the word ‘anyways’. She hated that word. Almost as bad as the word ‘fleek’...unless you were using it ironically, of course.

“I would be interested in this written language.” Solas murmured in an offhanded manner, as if it were a passing thought.

“As would I.” Bax said with a smile.

“Me too, me too!” Magpie cheered.

“May be later.” Amy said, pushing her empty plate away.

“Wow...you really know how to polish off your food.” Krem murmured. “It must be good to eat decent food.”

Wystan blinked. “What now?”

Krem hoisted an elbow onto a table, leaning his hand into his hand. “She’s been eating servants rations since she got here.” he said simply.

Sam blinked at that. “Wait….what?”

“Why?” Cullen’s voice seemed to slice through all other noise in the tavern. He sounded so indignant, it was almost comical. At least it would be if Amy was anything other than slightly offended.

“Servant.” She said, pointing to herself.

“She...has a point.” Bull grunted.

“If is so o-fence-ive...then...May be.. Should try feeding servants better.” Amy grumbled, her nose ticking upward.

Ah, there was the guilt.

“Yeah!” Sera chirped. “Suck it!”

And now the moment was bisected by slight resentment. More resentment of Sera than anything though.

Luckily, the mood is reset entirely as a soldier bursts into the tavern. “M’lords! There are strangers who—”

“We can speak for ourselves, thanks.”

Her voice was a seduction. It was infused with a strange dominating energy that slithered around your ears and beckoned you close.

She had the same color skin as Magpie, but her hair was dark brown instead of black. Behind her lurked a larger figure. A male elf that looked similar enough to her, but...well..obviously masculine. Her eyes were more turquoise, but his were the greens of copper patina. He was a solid silent sentry, unyielding and unbowed, whereas she was a softer sort of strength... all slinky and wiley. They both had very subtle vallaslin. The man’s was the mark of June and the woman’s bore the subtle mark of Andruil.

Her face transformed from the resentful boredom of only a second before, lighting in utter joy as her eyes landed on Magpie. “Athi!” She whooped, and Magpie sprung up, somehow using the table to leap over Krem and wrap her arms around this new stranger.

The two of them spun haphazardly, until the man caught them both against his torso before they could fall over. He embraced both women to himself, burying his face against the crown of Magpie’s head. Amy heard the man inhale sharply, and was caught by how intimate the scene felt.

“Magpie?” Amy called. “Friends?”

“Magpie?” The girl squawked, drawing back and staring at Magpie in confused horror. “Really?”

The man shrugged, unperturbed. “It suits well enough.” He droned, his voice deeper than Amy had expected. She could feel it in her pelvis all the way across the room.

Magpie grinned like a villain. “Everyone, these are the Tues.” She said. “Tunan.” She said as she leaned fully back against the man. He slung an arm around her waist casually. “And his sister, Tunen.” she continued before motioning to the woman. Tunen grabbed her wrist and nuzzled her nose against it. Magpie actually giggled at the interaction, before drawing her wrist back and motioning to the room. “This is Sera, Sam, Cullen, Bull, Krem, Amy, Varric, Bax, Wystan, and Solas.” she said pointing to each person in turn.

Sera seemed to visibly droop at the sight of these newcomers, looking away as though she couldn’t possibly be more bored. Everyone else seemed to be cycling through regular emotions that newcomers usually produced: surprise, curiosity, vague interest, etc.

Amy stood, moving slowly out of habit at this point.

Magpie blinked, looking at her as if only just recognizing her. “Oh… oh, I need to—”

“Show yur friends Haven.” Amy supplied as she made her way to the other side of the table and laid a hand on Cullen’s shoulder. “C'mander? Lend me... your arm?”

Perhaps it was being raised in the Order and being chastised against wasting time, or perhaps it was simply that he had talked the least of everyone at the table, but he was the only one with a completely clean plate.

“Of course.” He said, rising almost automatically. At this point, he was only grateful that she was being so gracious.

“But… I mean, Bax could—”

“Bax?” Amy blinked rapidly.

“I could what now?” Bax looked between Magpie and Amy.

“Well, I was going to have you stay with us.” Magpie announced.

Bax’s eyes widened. “Magpie, you know I’d love to, but… I don’t think I can make that sort of decision.”

Amy’s face hardened slightly, but Sam stood up quickly. “I’ll figure it out.” He shrugged. “I mean, I’ve no idea who’s supposed to be in charge of that either. But, if you’re willing to stay and help Adan for the afternoon, I’m sure I can find someone to agree to it.” He said as if that were a simple process. “Really, it’s all about getting everyone to agree that it’s a good idea… since… there seems to be no one in charge of that.”

Bax nodded with an eager smile. “It’s better than standing in the tent and hoping nothing happens even though you’re bored out of your mind.”

He probably had no idea how uncomfortable that sentiment made both Cullen and Amy...though, they were uneasy over separate issues.

“It’ll be something useful to do till it’s time for the Remedy.” Bax murmured.

Amy’s eyes sharpened. “Remedy?”

Everyone seemed to hold their breath. Everyone except Bax. “Well..yeah. We’re serving it…today.” His voice trailed off when he sensed the strained mood around him.

Everyone except Bax. “Well..yeah. We’re serving it…today.” His voice trailed off when he sensed the strained mood around him.

But Amy only smiled. “That’s...good.” She said with a nod. Bax’s eyes widened fractionally as realization dawned. Amy hadn’t been told...he had just assumed that she knew.

“Shall we?” Cullen said, offering his arm. Amy nodded, and Cullen couldn’t help but be struck by how small and delicate she seemed as she laced her arm under his, her hand resting over the inside of his forearm.

They walked at a slow pace. Cullen would hate to admit how long it took him to work up the courage to speak.

“I’m… glad to see you looking so well.” He said. Amy looked up at him with an obvious question in her eyes. “You were not very well when I last saw you… I hope you have no resentment towards the soldiers..”

Amy took a deep breath, closing her eyes and leaning on him a little more heavily than she had before. He paused, to let her collect herself. “We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies.” She replied. She looked up at him with a soft smile. “Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory, stretching from every battlefield and patriot grave to every living heart and hearthstone all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the union, when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature.”

Cullen stared at her, more than a little dumbfounded. “How do you do that?” he shook himself out of the trance. “Just… manage to say something so profound.”

“Not my words.” Amy explained. “Link-on’s words.”

“Who?”

“Abraham. Lincoln.” she said carefully. “Long dead leader.”

It seemed to take forever for them to reach her little hut, but they did at last. Cullen was struck again by how simple it was.

“In any case, I’m relieved to know you aren’t angry.”

“Oooh.” Amy murmured, sounding bright and cheerful. He was struck by how bright her smile seemed. “I’m fuuuuu-ree-yus.” she said gleefully. He felt himself draw back, his eyebrows high… how could someone look so friendly and feel so fearsome?

“You...are?”

“Mm-hm.” She agreed, nodding with a stern look on her face. “But. Cannot say I suh-port in-kwa-zis-shun, if I only do it while you make the de-cis-yons that I like.”

“..You are exhibiting remarkable restraint in all of this.”

Amy glanced over at him. “In dulge me?”

He nodded and she motioned to herself. “I am the one thing in life I can control.” She said, motioning to herself with both hands resting against her chest. “I am inimitable. I am an original.” She shook her head. “I’m not falling behind or running late.” She paused, making severe eye contact with him to fully relay her point. “I’m not standing still. I am lying in wait.”

Cullen straightened at that proclamation. “Samuel faces an endless uphill climb. He has something to prove, he has so much to lose.” She continued reciting in spite of his panic. “Samuel’s pace is relentless, he wastes no time…. What is it like in his shoes?” she seemed to drift away then, ambling towards the bed. “Samuel doesn’t hesitate. He exhibits no restraint. He takes, and he takes, and he takes, and he keeps winning anyway.” She smiled, somehow managing to look weary and sad and nostalgic all at once. “He changes the game. He plays and he raises the stakes. And if there’s a reason he seems to thrive when so few survive, then goddammit, I’m willing to wait for it.”

Cullen blinked, shaking himself out of a trance. That’s what it almost felt like… but a willing captivation. The only reason it didn’t bother him being that he had actually experienced magic that compelled and ensorcelled… whatever magic Amy did possess, he knew it wasn’t that. It felt completely different.

“So...you’re biding your time.” Cullen murmured, with a smirk. “I sense that those words were perhaps lyrics.” he said, though it wasn’t at all accusatory. In fact, his tone seemed more like what one conspirator confiding in another. She smiled, finally sitting upon the bed. “I wouldn’t have told on you if you’d wanted to sing.” he admitted. He also wouldn't have minded hearing her sing again, but that went without saying. 

She seemed to visibly wilt at his words. It was then that Cullen realized Magpie’s grievances over Solas’s restrictions. The entire time he had seen her, she had been stalwart… But now, as she denied herself the ability to sing, she looked despondent and frail.

“No.” She very nearly whimpered, looking utterly dismal. “Solas says no.” she took a heavy breath and then seemed to rally. “Cullen?”

“Hm?”

“Treb you shays?”

He blinked at her, realizing that she was changing the subject purposefully while being baffled by how she could focus on something he hadn’t told her about.

“Ah...right. I don’t always need to tell you these things… do I?” she smiled, and he cleared his throat. “Yes. The trebuchets are on their way. Slow moving as they are, they shouldn’t take too long to reach us.”

She nodded, satisfied. “Will need.”

Cullen allowed himself a moment to feel smug about demanding trebuchets and winning the arguments needed to get them…. Then he felt a touch worried.

“But… Till is un-ah-void-able, I will ah-dapt.” Amy nodded. “Become...better.”

Cullen absorbed this. “Unavoidable?”

“Hard. But. Will res-train un-till that time.”

“What time?” Cullen asked, getting a little frustrated with her evasiveness.

She half glared at him. “I am the daughter...of Patrick and Bridget McManus.” she very nearly growled. “I fight my battles as needed.”

“You haven’t answered anything.” Cullen pointed out, not deterred by her bluster.

“Argh.” She grunted at him. “Pick your battles. You don’t have to show up for every argument you're invited to.” she quoted. “There'll be battles… No ‘lusions there.” she stood again, approached him. “I ...in-tend. To fight when I must. I under-stand...con-see-qwen-ses. So. You just have ta decide… if that...is a fight...you wanna pick, with me.”

Cullen knew his nostrils were flaring as he took a deep breath. It wasn’t a threat...but… it was definitely a declaration that she was not and would not be caged. He instantly winced at his own mental image, and had to remind himself that they had done no such thing. They only worked to protect her better. 

She had essentially told him that he could not mistake her compliance for passivity. She was just picking her battles. While she wouldn’t challenge their decision out-right, that would not deter her from doing what she thought was necessary.

“Amy…”He said carefully. “The field is not safe.”

“Cullen.” she replied. “The world z’not safe.” she spat the word ‘safe’ as though it were distasteful.

She stepped into his space and stared up at him—mostly because she had to. He was taller than her. Their positions did little to deter her, and it was here that he saw the barely contained fury peeking through that controlled facade.

Cullen felt lead settle in his gut. He knew Amy to be remarkably resourceful and surprisingly capable… if she did intend to fight him on something, it’d be a hard fight to win.

“My decisions stand.” He growled, crossing his arms over his chest. A way to draw away without sacrificing any dominance.

“Would not pre-zume other wise.” Amy murmured, mimicking his gesture with perhaps a little more slink than he had used.... He wondered if he looked half as uncaring as she did. ...there was no way he'd shimmied his shoulders as she had, though. No way.

Cullen sighed. “Then we are at an impasse.”

Amy nodded. “But...we under-stand.”

“Oh, we do.”Cullen grumbled. “The underlying threats have not going unnoticed.”

“Is not threat.” Amy snapped, suddenly very tired of the conversation. “I do not...ap-ris-shi-ate you thin-king I am ...frah-gile.”

Cullen’s face dropped in aghast shock. “No one’s saying you are!”

Amy rolled her eyes. “Could not even...tell me ‘bout Remedy.” she reminded. “And you.” she jabbed his chest with a finger. “Can't even...look at my face, un-less I chal-enge you.” Cullen felt himself wilt just a touch, because those accusations weren’t untrue. “Am not made of ...glass.”

“No one told you because we were all worried that this would happen.” Cullen argued, stepping into her space. “Storming the field won’t end well for anyone, much less you.”

Amy recoiled, staring at him in shock. “...said any-thing ‘bout ‘stormin tha field’??” They stared at one another, each pulling up short as they re-evaluated what had been said. “You’ve made it vehry clear.” Amy grumbled. “Don’t need’r want me there.”

“I’ve done no such—”

“S’fine.” little more than a single word, yet her voice was like a whip-crack echoing through the room... and Cullen suddenly remembered how much he hated that word when voiced by a woman. “Decis-yonz made, and I ah-bide.” she said it in a tone that conveyed that complying with the decision and enjoying the decision had nothing to with each other.

“Then why are we having this conversation?”

“B’cauz. I will make choi-ces. They will be moar con-ek-ted to con-shance than yur de-ciss-yons.”

Cullen blinked at that, removing the fear of her storming the field from his mind and focusing on her words.

“...ah.” he took a deep breath. “If you happen to be lead to the field, it will be because some need has called you there...not because you’re being belligerent.”

Amy nodded, her face still set in annoyance. She gave him a very tired glare. “Thought y’had a fight on yur hands?” Cullen looked away with a heavy sigh. “Why you always thinkin’ I’ma fight you?” her aggravation was momentarily pierced by something that could be concern, though Cullen wasn’t quite sure what she was concerned about.

“I don’t…” Cullen shook his head. “I don’t know... The likelihood of you staying away from the field is...foreign.”

Amy nodded. “Was com-fort.” she murmured. “But...time to grow.”

Cullen half scoffed. “There other places you plan on taking over?”

Before Amy could answer, there was a knock at the door. “Amy? It’s Jas.”

“Jas?” Culen queried, though it was more directed towards Amy.

“M’in.” Amy called.

‘Jas’ was one of the elves that served directly under Mother Giselle in the chantry. He was a scruffy haired city elf, that ended up being a runner between the kitchen, laundry, and Thren. Amy would have described him as gangly and underfed (which, she’d come to learn, was normal for city elves as opposed to well-kept elven servants), but eager to learn and equally eager to please.

“Ah..Sorry.” He said, actually ducking his head and bowing in on himself a bit. “Didn’t know you had company.”

“C’mander saw me here.”

“I see… well, uh, Mother GIselle has requested you set aside some time to speak with her.” He held up a hand, rushing to continued, “At your nearest convenience, of course. Madame Vivienne mentioned wanting to speak to you as well…” he said hastily, then paused, his dark eyes drifting sideways. “Though...she didn’t say that to me, so much as she said it around me.. “ he squinted contemplatively. “Or maybe at me…” His eyes suddenly widened. “I don’t really know if I was meant to tell you that part.”

Amy nodded, with as soft a smile as she could manage given her mood. “Be there n’a min.” He nodded, looking relieved. “Mythal’enaste.”

He hovered in the doorway, looking heavenward before blurting out, “Oh! Uh… Dareth shiral!”

“Yes!” she clapped in celebration of him selecting a decent elven sentence. 

He pumped his fist before scampering away.

Cullen blinked, looking between them through this exchange before settling a confused gaze on Amy. “I didn’t know you spoke elvish…”

“No one does. 'Sept Solas. I know...very little.” She motioned towards the doorway with her chin. “Jas’z in’tres-ted. I share.” she took a deep breath, still eying the door. “Shud go.” She murmured.

“I could walk with you.” Cullen offered.

Amy half smirked. “Best not. So much werk ta’do.

“I suppose you’re right..” He acknowledged, albeit grudgingly.

The two of them passed through the doorway, one after the other, before hovering awkwardly just outside.

Cullen wasn’t quite sure what he should do. Normally, he’d just return to the field, but...he wasn’t sue that anything had been entirely resolved between them. There were still more questions than answers, and while Amy seemed compliant she wasn’t content. Part of him assumed he should... fix it? Think about fixing it? Something? 

Another part of him—the soldier that couldn’t stand to have his flank exposed, no doubt—wanted to remain...to observe her and make sure she was a certainty and not volatile… Which, was unreasonable. She obviously wasn’t behaving irrationally. In fact, her decisions and thought processes (if a little scattered) were utterly logical. This didn’t eradicate the notion of her as a threatening possibility. Still...it felt...unfinished.

“Don’t wurry, C’mander.” Amy placated. “Won’t brawl n'tha Chantry.” she said this as she walked away from him, slowly making her way towards the Chantry.

He watched her back as she moved… stiff, but straight. Resolute. Her shoulders back, her eyes forward. She took the stairs one at a time, not rushing herself. He was so preoccupied studying her posture, he missed any opportunity to respond or call out a farwell….

Still feeling a heavy sense of restlessness, he shook his head and returned to the field.

She was right about one thing. There was still much work to be done.

*sips coffee* anyone wanna place bets on how this faux cold war will go? I'm sure I can get Varric on the books with some opinion....nah, it's probably nothing.

#ILIC #It's Lost Its Charm #Dragon Age #Dragon Age Fan Fiction #DAFF #DAFF It's Lost Its Charm #Amy McManus #Cullen Rutherford #Samuel Trevelyan #Magpie #Solas #Sera #The Iron Bull #Krem #Varric Tethras #Ser Wystan #Baxtien