“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
[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
Reply
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Reply
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