cherith: Dragon Age Grey Warden Logo (Dragon Age: Grey Warden)
[Written for a prompt at the Dragon_Age Community on LJ]

“Sister, what do I say? What do I tell him?”

“Bethany, I’m not the one to ask. If you feel the need to leave a letter, then do so. You already know the limits of what you can safely say to him.”

Bethany nodded and looked back down to the parchment under her fingertips. If she wrote it quickly, wrote it the way Marian had asked her to, she wouldn’t be saying anything at all- not really. And she couldn’t imagine what that might do. For him to find such a letter. For him to know that she had left not just the Gallows, but Kirkwall altogether, but nothing of how she felt, how she wanted to stay, not how she wished that things had been different- oh, so different.

Marian would have her say none of that. Not to say that she was leaving, not to say that she cared for him (and in a way that no mage should care for a Templar) and especially not to say that her sister, her sister, was bringing Anders with them. Maker, how could she fit all that into a single letter? Or a pile of them.

She couldn’t.

But, she knew words that he would understand. Even, if there was nothing else to go with them.

Carefully, she penned the Canticle of Trials, just two verses. It was all she would need, if she put his name at the top and her name at the bottom, then he would know. He would know.

When she was done, she showed it to Marian who nodded her approval. ”If you had to write something,” her sister sighed, “then that was well written. In that you didn’t really write it at all.”

Her sister’s voice was dismissive, as she handed the parchment back and Bethany found it hard to smile, though Marian had approved of it in her own way. Bethany frowned, because she knew it wasn’t complete. It wasn’t everything, but it would have to be enough. She turned it over, putting his name again on the other side so that when she rolled it, his name would show. Then, she placed it within plain sight on the desk in her room.

Strangely, once her fingers had left the parchment, she felt an odd sense of peace about it. This way, no one would know, but she and him. This way, it looked only like the Second Enchanter had assigned words of remembrance and peace in a dire time to the new Knight-Commander of Kirkwall.

Maybe in them, Cullen would find some strength.
cherith: Dragon Age Grey Warden Logo (Dragon Age: Grey Warden)
[Written for the DA_Land Community where the prompt this week was merely Dwarves]

“Lady Aeducan, if you don’t stop that, I’m never going to finish writing this.”

She looks up at Varric and trails a finger down the inside of the neckline of his open tunic. “Stop what, Tethras? This?” She twirls a strand of chest hair between her nimble fingers. “Or this?” Her other hand toys with the laces of his leggings, laces she’s already undone.

“Oh you do not play fair do you,” he chuckles and sets his parchment aside. “You know, I knew someone a bit like you in Kirkwall. Well, not quite like you, being human and all. But just as… determined.”

“Varric Tethras are you telling me that you…?”

“Oh, no no no. Not for me she wasn’t. No, Rivaini had her eye on lots of men.” His chest rumbles with laughter. “And I know she eventually had her way with many of them. Not my type though. Besides you know how Bianca can get. Still if it hadn’t been for her- I wouldn’t have gotten to writing all these things down in the first place you know…” He looks at his abandoned story, something he knows Isabela will enjoy when she sees the latest chapter.

Lady Aeducan spares a glance towards the chest at the far end of the bed, a chest she knows is locked and solidly so and that contains only one thing, a thing lovingly oiled and cradled with silks. Her eyebrow arches as she looks back at Varric. “Oh yes. I remember.”

With another chuckle he reaches out a hand and rubs at her shoulder. “Bad memories of what the big, bad crossbow did to you?”

Lady Aeducan huffs. “I’ll have you know Varric that my shoulder still gets sore in that spot. Stupid duster healer never set it right.” She pulls her hand from his chest, pushes his hand away and rubs at the spot with a feigned look of frustration and pain.

“I’m not getting any more writing done, am I?”

She grins and her hand moves from her shoulder to his, pushing him back into the pillows behind him. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

“Whatever the Warden Queen commands.”
cherith: Dragon Age Grey Warden Logo (Dragon Age: Grey Warden)
[Written for a prompt at Commentfic over on LJ]

"Do you think she believed you?"
Marian is leaning back onto the bed, her hands behind her head. She gives him a cautious, but questioning smile and arches an eyebrow. Her hair has grown longer in her time away from Kirkwall and as she sits up, it falls forward over a shoulder.
 "No way to tell for sure, Hawke," he says as he slides on to the seat at the desk in the corner of their small room. "But, I'll know soon enough. Already have my eyes and ears open to find out where they move next. The Seeker hasn't exactly been quiet these days."
"And was she really with them?"
"Sunshine? Yeah, she was there." He grants her a sly smile and gently taps the side of his nose. "Knew she was there when they pulled me in. She made sure of it." He frowns slightly at the memory. "Did seem like they've picked up a lot of the Circle mages though."
Marian moves forward and slides her legs off the side of the bed. "Varric, is my sister okay? If they're going through all this trouble..."
"Hawke, I've been telling as many people as I can, but it's going to take time. It's not like I can just put out word that Hawke's looking for her sister."
He reaches out his arms to her and she goes to him. She kneels in front of the chair and puts her head against his lap, her brow creased with worry.
 "I just worry, Varric," she whispers against his thigh.
 He pats her head. "I know you do, Hawke. I'm doing the best I can, and I've told so many stories now about how you left- who you left Kirkwall with... " he smiles down at her. "Try not to worry, Hawke. You know how good my stories are."
That brought a small smile to her lips and she folds back to sit against her heels. She looks up at him. "You know I love your stories, Varric. But that's not what I'm..."
"Good," he says, cutting her off. With a nod he lifts a finger to her chin and tilts her gaze to his. "Then you should know that if they're listening to my stories, none of them really know the truth."
cherith: (Speak my Mind)
I'm offering fiction at help_haiti on LJ. My offer is here, but there's a ton of other great offers over there, I'm going to browse them later when I get a chance.
Starting bid is $5 for mine and donations are going to organizations on this list (there's several that are yet to be added listed in the comments) - donater's choice. If I bid on something my money's going to Wyclef's organization

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