Thunderbolt and Lightning (Very, Very Frightening) 1/2classics_loverSeptember 1 2015, 12:06:14 UTC
As Alistair roused for his watch he could feel the approaching storm. He supposed that it was better to be in the Brecilian Forest than out in the open - the trees would make for better targets than he - and hoped that none of the others would be bothered. Morrigan, he mused, would probably dance naked amid the lightning strikes, with the thunder as percussion, if she was awake. She hadn't stayed up for long after waking him for his turn on watch. Salroka, the mabari war hound trotted over to the fire, sat on one of Alistair's feet and whuffed softly at him.
"Oh, what do you want?" Alistair asked the animal irritably.
Salroka whimpered and Alistair felt immediately gulty. He scratched behind the dog's ear.
"Sorry, Salroka, you'd be out of sorts, too, if there was an Archdemon in your head."
In the distance, through the leafy canopy, the sky lit up and shortly after thunder rumbled. Alistair ignored it, although Salroka stood up, watching Natia's tent. Alistair rubbed feeling back into his toes - the dog was warm, but heavy. There was a second rumble of thunder and a muffled yelp from Natia's tent. Salroka barked in reply, and trotted over to the tent, nosing his large head in through the closed-over flap. Alistair ignored the irrational spike of jealousy at the dog's freedom to go in and out of Natia's tent, and tried to remain watchful of the camp's surroundings, ignoring the third-and-fourth quick flashes and roars of the storm that was coming closer overhead.
Natia appeared in the flap of her tent, one arm wrapped tightly around Salroka's neck, eyes wide.
"Alistair?"
"What is it? Darkspawn dreams again?"
"Um, well, dreaming is freaky but I'm getting used to it, but... Is the sky falling? Sh-should we find a nice, secure cave?"
"What? What are you talking about? Were you eating my cheese before bedtime?" Alistair asked, half-teasing.
"Th-that noise... In Dust Town that noise meant one of two things: either a tenement was falling or stalactites had fallen into the lava sinks. And that means dodging lava or bricks from above. Will those tree things give enough cover against that lava-light in the sky, do you think? Or can we go find some nice, safe, Stone to protect us?" Natia asked, the knuckles on her fingers turning white as she gripped Salroka's collar. The mabari turned his head and licked her cheek gently.
Thunderbolt and Lightning (Very, Very Frightening) 2/2classics_loverSeptember 1 2015, 12:06:35 UTC
"That noise? It's just thunder. You remember thunder and lightning from Ostagar, right? When we were crossing the bridge to the Tower of Ishal there was a short thunderstorm," Alistair reminded Natia.
Natia blinked slowly. "Um. That was... You remember it, too? I thought it was part of the Joining, like an echo in a perfect cave, it sounded so much like the Archdemon in the vision-dream-thingy. I ... Is this normal, then? On the Surface, I mean. All this light and noise. The sky doesn't, um, collapse or cave in?"
Alistair laughed - he didn't mean to, and certainly didn't intend it maliciously, but his first instinct was to find the funny side of things, and Natia's point of view just tickled him - and shook his head, guilty when he saw the hurt look in her eyes. "The sky is... the sky. It's made of air and, at night, stars. The sky can't cave in because it's not a cave."
Natia looked, if possible, even more frightened. "You mean, it's not like those Orlesian dolls Leliana mentioned that fit one inside the other? Dust Town fits inside Orzammar fits inside the Surface fits inside the sky? Are you sure the sky isn't just another very, very big cave?"
Alistair took out some cheddar from his pocket and nibbled it thoughtfully, while Salroka twisted his neck to watch the human eat. Natia stepped out of the tent entirely and gingerly made her way to Alistair's place at the fire side, glancing upwards at the trees each time lightning flashed or thunder rumbled.
After a longish silence, broken only by Alistair's chewing and Salroka's pleading whine, Alistair swallowed and spoke.
"I can't say for sure that there isn't a bigger cave overhead, Natia, because I have no proof, but I have always believed that that's not the case. Thunder and lightning isn't very dangerous, unless you're on a flat plain and the tallest thing for miles around. In the forest the trees will protect us. And if you want, I'll protect you," he added, seriously.
Natia glanced suspiciously up at the sky, the lightning forking less frequently, and the thunder quietening as the storm passed on elsewhere. She thought seriously, for a while, and looked at Alistair.
"Thanks. This whole on-the-surface business is weird to me. Protect me when there's something you know is dangerous that I don't. But don't think I can't take care of myself. I won the glory Provings and I took down Beraht, pretty much single handed. Well, Leske helped with Beraht, but... I've been looking out for myself since I could toddle around picking pockets and looking harmless. If it's scary to you, tell me and then I'll worry. How 'bout that?"
"Deal," Alistair replied, grinning and holding out his hand.
Natia spat into her palm and shook his hand firmly. "Deal, Salroka."
"Hey! I am not a dog!"
*-*-*
1) I'm just a poor boy, nobody loves me 2) Spare him his life from this monstrosity 3) Nothing really matters
“Viscount, I have another letter for you from Prince Sebastian of Starkhaven.”
Viscount Varric leaned forward in his chair and rubbed a hand to his forehead, sighing heavily. “Andraste’s tits, Bran, what have I told you about those. Just put it in the pile with the others, I’ll deal with it later.”
“By which you mean you won’t deal with it at all.”
“Oh, that’s not true. They make nice paper cranes.” He picked up some papers and began to shuffle through them, pointedly ignoring his seneschal.
Bran closed his eyes and muttered something under his breath that Varric didn’t catch, but which he doubted was complimentary. When he opened his eyes again, he looked straight at the dwarf. “You’ll want to look at this one, ser,” he gritted out. “Prince Sebastian plans to make a state visit to Kirkwall sometime in the next few months.”
Varric dropped the papers, letting them scatter across his desk. “You’re shitting me.”
“It appears he has grown tired of you ignoring his letters.” Varric could swear he could see a hint of a smile on Bran’s face, the smug bastard.
“Does he really think we’ll let him in after the shit he tried to pull?”
“We have not been at war with Starkhaven for years, if you do recall. Prince Sebastian has issued a formal apology, and has sent reparations-”
Varric threw his hands into the air. “That’s not the point! Shit, can’t we just drop those giant chains over the harbor when he gets here?”
Bran looked visibly pale at the suggestion, and held out an arm to the wall to support himself. “Kirkwall can’t afford to cause such an incident with Starkhaven!”
“Doesn’t the Inquisitor have the key to the city? We can say we were letting her try it out.”
Bran wiped some sweat from his brow. “Viscount, please, I must advise against this course of action.”
Varric looked up thoughtfully. “You’re right, no one will buy it. Everyone knows that the Inquisitor is in Antiva with Ruffles.” Suddenly Varric’s eyes lit up. “Yes, that’s it! Bran, tell Sebastian that I won’t be able to meet him because I’ll be in trade negotiations with the Montilyet family.”
“…Excuse me?”
“Never mind, I’ll write it myself. I’m the better liar, anyway.” Already Varric was pulling out his quill and inkpot, preparing to get to work. “I hope you don’t have any more surprises for me.”
Bran blinked at him, a dazed look in his eyes. “I… no, ser. I’ll leave you to you’re work.” Bran bowed stiffly before leaving. Bran turned right to his office, but as soon as the doors to the Viscount’s office closed, he turned around, heading to see Guard Captain Aveline. If anyone could rein in that dwarf, it was her.
Prompts: 1) I did warn you not to trust me 2) Show of hands: who saw this coming? 3) Lead me not into temptation
I did warn you not to trust merose_in_shadowSeptember 11 2015, 23:43:02 UTC
[Bull Trespasser spoilers]When they reached him, the Iron Bull had one of his large hands pressed against the gaping wound in his side where Cole's daggers had bit deep.
Callaia Lavellan stood over him, tears stinging her eyes.
Bull's good eye opened. Blood stained teeth smiled up at her. "I did warn you... not to... trust me."
"How could you, Bull?" She took a step forward, then thought better of it. She didn't know if he was faking now. Had she ever known?
He coughed, a wet, sucking sound. "Nothing... personal. You knew... what you... were getting... when you... hired... me."
She crouched down to hear his voice better. "We would have jumped in front of a sword for you, Bull. All of us. Does that count for nothing?"
His eye slid shut, his face going slack. "It was... fun, boss. But Iron Bull isn't real... and victory is in the Qun."
His hand fell away from his side.
"His heart had a wall around it," Cole said, coming up beside her, staring sadly down at Iron Bull with his large eyes. "Krem, gone. Grim, gone... reminder of his true purpose. No friends, only the Qun is certain."
Callaia closed her eyes. "I did it," she whispered. "If I hadn't made that stupid alliance..."
"Wouldn't that have made Bull Tal-Vashoth?" Thom asked, coming up, slinging his shield on his back. "An outcast from his own people?"
"We would be his people," Callaia snapped.
"You don't know, lass," Thom said, kindness in his voice. "He might have turned against us anyway, even if he were Tal-Vashoth."
She shook her head, but didn't want to argue. Leaning heavily on her staff, Callaia rose to her feet, turning her back on her friend's body, and kept moving forward.
Prompts: 1) Deep, dark secret 2) Talk, dark, and handsome 3) S/He doesn't exist
"Oh, what do you want?" Alistair asked the animal irritably.
Salroka whimpered and Alistair felt immediately gulty. He scratched behind the dog's ear.
"Sorry, Salroka, you'd be out of sorts, too, if there was an Archdemon in your head."
In the distance, through the leafy canopy, the sky lit up and shortly after thunder rumbled. Alistair ignored it, although Salroka stood up, watching Natia's tent. Alistair rubbed feeling back into his toes - the dog was warm, but heavy. There was a second rumble of thunder and a muffled yelp from Natia's tent. Salroka barked in reply, and trotted over to the tent, nosing his large head in through the closed-over flap. Alistair ignored the irrational spike of jealousy at the dog's freedom to go in and out of Natia's tent, and tried to remain watchful of the camp's surroundings, ignoring the third-and-fourth quick flashes and roars of the storm that was coming closer overhead.
Natia appeared in the flap of her tent, one arm wrapped tightly around Salroka's neck, eyes wide.
"Alistair?"
"What is it? Darkspawn dreams again?"
"Um, well, dreaming is freaky but I'm getting used to it, but... Is the sky falling? Sh-should we find a nice, secure cave?"
"What? What are you talking about? Were you eating my cheese before bedtime?" Alistair asked, half-teasing.
"Th-that noise... In Dust Town that noise meant one of two things: either a tenement was falling or stalactites had fallen into the lava sinks. And that means dodging lava or bricks from above. Will those tree things give enough cover against that lava-light in the sky, do you think? Or can we go find some nice, safe, Stone to protect us?" Natia asked, the knuckles on her fingers turning white as she gripped Salroka's collar. The mabari turned his head and licked her cheek gently.
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"That noise? It's just thunder. You remember thunder and lightning from Ostagar, right? When we were crossing the bridge to the Tower of Ishal there was a short thunderstorm," Alistair reminded Natia.
Natia blinked slowly. "Um. That was... You remember it, too? I thought it was part of the Joining, like an echo in a perfect cave, it sounded so much like the Archdemon in the vision-dream-thingy. I ... Is this normal, then? On the Surface, I mean. All this light and noise. The sky doesn't, um, collapse or cave in?"
Alistair laughed - he didn't mean to, and certainly didn't intend it maliciously, but his first instinct was to find the funny side of things, and Natia's point of view just tickled him - and shook his head, guilty when he saw the hurt look in her eyes. "The sky is... the sky. It's made of air and, at night, stars. The sky can't cave in because it's not a cave."
Natia looked, if possible, even more frightened. "You mean, it's not like those Orlesian dolls Leliana mentioned that fit one inside the other? Dust Town fits inside Orzammar fits inside the Surface fits inside the sky? Are you sure the sky isn't just another very, very big cave?"
Alistair took out some cheddar from his pocket and nibbled it thoughtfully, while Salroka twisted his neck to watch the human eat. Natia stepped out of the tent entirely and gingerly made her way to Alistair's place at the fire side, glancing upwards at the trees each time lightning flashed or thunder rumbled.
After a longish silence, broken only by Alistair's chewing and Salroka's pleading whine, Alistair swallowed and spoke.
"I can't say for sure that there isn't a bigger cave overhead, Natia, because I have no proof, but I have always believed that that's not the case. Thunder and lightning isn't very dangerous, unless you're on a flat plain and the tallest thing for miles around. In the forest the trees will protect us. And if you want, I'll protect you," he added, seriously.
Natia glanced suspiciously up at the sky, the lightning forking less frequently, and the thunder quietening as the storm passed on elsewhere. She thought seriously, for a while, and looked at Alistair.
"Thanks. This whole on-the-surface business is weird to me. Protect me when there's something you know is dangerous that I don't. But don't think I can't take care of myself. I won the glory Provings and I took down Beraht, pretty much single handed. Well, Leske helped with Beraht, but... I've been looking out for myself since I could toddle around picking pockets and looking harmless. If it's scary to you, tell me and then I'll worry. How 'bout that?"
"Deal," Alistair replied, grinning and holding out his hand.
Natia spat into her palm and shook his hand firmly. "Deal, Salroka."
"Hey! I am not a dog!"
*-*-*
1) I'm just a poor boy, nobody loves me
2) Spare him his life from this monstrosity
3) Nothing really matters
Reply
[Spoilers for Varric]
“Viscount, I have another letter for you from Prince Sebastian of Starkhaven.”
Viscount Varric leaned forward in his chair and rubbed a hand to his forehead, sighing heavily. “Andraste’s tits, Bran, what have I told you about those. Just put it in the pile with the others, I’ll deal with it later.”
“By which you mean you won’t deal with it at all.”
“Oh, that’s not true. They make nice paper cranes.” He picked up some papers and began to shuffle through them, pointedly ignoring his seneschal.
Bran closed his eyes and muttered something under his breath that Varric didn’t catch, but which he doubted was complimentary. When he opened his eyes again, he looked straight at the dwarf. “You’ll want to look at this one, ser,” he gritted out. “Prince Sebastian plans to make a state visit to Kirkwall sometime in the next few months.”
Varric dropped the papers, letting them scatter across his desk. “You’re shitting me.”
“It appears he has grown tired of you ignoring his letters.” Varric could swear he could see a hint of a smile on Bran’s face, the smug bastard.
“Does he really think we’ll let him in after the shit he tried to pull?”
“We have not been at war with Starkhaven for years, if you do recall. Prince Sebastian has issued a formal apology, and has sent reparations-”
Varric threw his hands into the air. “That’s not the point! Shit, can’t we just drop those giant chains over the harbor when he gets here?”
Bran looked visibly pale at the suggestion, and held out an arm to the wall to support himself. “Kirkwall can’t afford to cause such an incident with Starkhaven!”
“Doesn’t the Inquisitor have the key to the city? We can say we were letting her try it out.”
Bran wiped some sweat from his brow. “Viscount, please, I must advise against this course of action.”
Varric looked up thoughtfully. “You’re right, no one will buy it. Everyone knows that the Inquisitor is in Antiva with Ruffles.” Suddenly Varric’s eyes lit up. “Yes, that’s it! Bran, tell Sebastian that I won’t be able to meet him because I’ll be in trade negotiations with the Montilyet family.”
“…Excuse me?”
“Never mind, I’ll write it myself. I’m the better liar, anyway.” Already Varric was pulling out his quill and inkpot, preparing to get to work. “I hope you don’t have any more surprises for me.”
Bran blinked at him, a dazed look in his eyes. “I… no, ser. I’ll leave you to you’re work.” Bran bowed stiffly before leaving. Bran turned right to his office, but as soon as the doors to the Viscount’s office closed, he turned around, heading to see Guard Captain Aveline. If anyone could rein in that dwarf, it was her.
Prompts:
1) I did warn you not to trust me
2) Show of hands: who saw this coming?
3) Lead me not into temptation
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Callaia Lavellan stood over him, tears stinging her eyes.
Bull's good eye opened. Blood stained teeth smiled up at her. "I did warn you... not to... trust me."
"How could you, Bull?" She took a step forward, then thought better of it. She didn't know if he was faking now. Had she ever known?
He coughed, a wet, sucking sound. "Nothing... personal. You knew... what you... were getting... when you... hired... me."
She crouched down to hear his voice better. "We would have jumped in front of a sword for you, Bull. All of us. Does that count for nothing?"
His eye slid shut, his face going slack. "It was... fun, boss. But Iron Bull isn't real... and victory is in the Qun."
His hand fell away from his side.
"His heart had a wall around it," Cole said, coming up beside her, staring sadly down at Iron Bull with his large eyes. "Krem, gone. Grim, gone... reminder of his true purpose. No friends, only the Qun is certain."
Callaia closed her eyes. "I did it," she whispered. "If I hadn't made that stupid alliance..."
"Wouldn't that have made Bull Tal-Vashoth?" Thom asked, coming up, slinging his shield on his back. "An outcast from his own people?"
"We would be his people," Callaia snapped.
"You don't know, lass," Thom said, kindness in his voice. "He might have turned against us anyway, even if he were Tal-Vashoth."
She shook her head, but didn't want to argue. Leaning heavily on her staff, Callaia rose to her feet, turning her back on her friend's body, and kept moving forward.
Prompts:
1) Deep, dark secret
2) Talk, dark, and handsome
3) S/He doesn't exist
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