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Mah Writings
As I keep forgetting to post here, and the work is actually complete now, I'm going to just put up a link to the finished piece:

Dragon Age: Inquisition fanfic

Genre: Angst, Romance, and Drama

Rating: M (violence and dark themes)

Warnings: Blood, mentions of injuries, character death, and body horror.

Prompt: The Inquisitor is not truly who they think they are, but a spirit inhabiting the body of the individual who originally passed through the Fade, being rendered comatose in the process. Now, with a head full of borrowed memories and all the problems to go along with it, they must navigate the challenges the Inquisition faces and, along the way, rediscover their own nature.

Word Count: 67,000

Having decided that I am categorically Too Lazy to post each individual chapter on tumblr, I figured I may as well link to the finished work on AO3. Angst abounds, and there are spoilers up to Here Lies The Abyss.


Original prompt: http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/12149.html?thread=47703669#t47703669

Hello! I can draw something for you if you'd like
Those hearts are so cute.

Fenris does sprite stuff!
Aw, cute Kammy!

Hello! I can draw something for you if you'd like
I mentioned in chat, but cho's cute as a button!

I am the carry

Fenris does sprite stuff!
Man, I guess I'm gonna dip my toe in the water here.

Could you possible do Kammy?

Spoiler: click to toggle

He mad? He mad

Fenris does sprite stuff!
[+] Namira greatly approves.

Mah Writings
Working with the Inquisition was more fulfilling than Vee would have given it credit for at first. She’d never wanted to join the templars, nor become a sister, nor go off and join the military – not that her parents would have allowed it. Being a part of a huge organisation, just a cog in a massive piece of clockwork; it didn’t strike her as something that she would enjoy. Her experience in the templars as a teenager had taught her that much. One of the few memories that was completely distinct was the feeling of fierce joy that had shot through her when Ostwick’s Knight-Commander had finally lost his temper and sent her away, throwing her out of the order. It had even been worth enduring her family’s disgust and anger with her upon her ignominious return. Wasn’t as if it was the first time she’d been a disappointment to them.

Still, the Inquisition was a contrast. Nobody was giving her orders here, or treating her like a mindless drone. She was appreciated; her help was appreciated, and the Inquisition was becoming a beacon of hope for many people. Often, they were the only people who were bothering to lend aid to the common folk affected by the crisis. That meant a lot more than Vee could express, or in truth had expected it to. She’d never really been an extrinsically motivated person; self-reliance and independence, those were her watchwords. <i>Had</i> been her watchwords. Even the confused stares at her silence and movements of her hands were beginning to grow less frequent as the word spread that the Herald did not speak. Some were even taking that as a sign of her faith and dedication to Andraste; that she had taken a vow not to say a word until the Breach was closed. Leliana, Vee knew, had done nothing to discourage those rumours. Better those than the more sinister ones.

Almost as enthusing as the good work they were doing was the fact that the Inquisition was growing. New recruits and contacts trickled in on a daily basis; the flood of support they’d received from the Hinterlands was both alarming and gratifying. Perhaps it shouldn’t be a surprise that people wanted to become a part of an organisation that had helped them out – returning the favour, so to speak. Along with the volunteers came others, companions trusted enough for Vee to bring along in her smaller excursions, to lead tasks of their own. Vivienne, the elegant mage who made Vee uncomfortable, reminding her so much of the atmosphere at home that she’d craved to escape. Blackwall, the Grey Warden, gruff and serious, but dedicated, deferring to orders without question. Sera, who had found the idea of Vee’s signing ‘Weird, but not bad weird. Good kind of weird, yeah?’. Then there was Iron Bull, warrior and spy, boisterous and full-hearted. Vee didn’t know what to make of him.

Sometimes, though, Vee just needed a break from them all, from her responsibilities. She wasn’t used to anyone particularly caring about what she was doing, or bothering to track her down for any reason other than to scold her about some task she was perceived to be dodging. Which she inevitably was not, but that wouldn’t stop her mother telling her off for the sake of it. Now though, the Inquisition demanded her attention on a regular basis; part of being the Herald, she supposed. Strange that even though she did not lead their field operations – Cassandra was better at that, the others often deferred to her anyway. Not strange enough to mean that it wasn’t nice to have her opinion valued, however.

She sat facing the frozen lake outside of Haven’s gates, perched on a rock with her legs crossed. Behind her she could hear the clamour of the soldiers in training, the shouting and the clash of blade on blade. Silence had always unsettled her, even when she was young; it came with growing up alongside a veritable hoard of siblings, she supposed. Vee thought better when there was at least a little bustle going on, if only just in the background. That was a boost she needed, too, because she was attempting to write home.

It felt a futile effort, to try and commit ink to parchment. Relearning her letters had taken some time, hours upon hours sitting in Josephine’s office and reading correspondence, trying to make sense of the lines upon the page as the other woman patiently walked her through it. Remembering how to write had been difficult, though thankfully less of a stubborn block than her verbal language, in spite of her clumsy penmanship. No, the difficulties were no longer in mechanics or comprehension, but in finding anything at all to say. Vee’s feelings about her family were mixed, possibly the most patchwork part of her memory. She cared for her siblings. Some of them. She cared for her parents, but it was tangled, mixed up in years of hostility and disagreements that her hazy recollections could barely make sense of. Her mother had wanted a specific path for her, Vee had wanted another. Her father had simply… wanted her out from underfoot. Married off. She’d disappointed both in her rebellion, and she regretted that they felt that way, but not that she’d done it in the first place.

Very complicated, and Vee didn’t even know where to begin with the letter, wouldn’t even have thought to write if a short message from home hadn’t arrived a few days ago.

’Violetta, we have heard a great many distressing things about the Conclave and what may have happened to you.

Please let us know that you are safe and hale.

Lady Harriet Trevelyan

To just say that she was fine seemed cursory. Vee was fine, mostly. Better than she’d been in a long while, which was a lot of the problem. It was better because it wasn’t Ostwick. What was she supposed to write? ‘Oh I’m okay. Alive. Also they’re calling me the Herald of Andraste now and I forgot how talking works. Hope you’re not still angry about the templar thing.’

Vee stared vehemently at the blank page, as if that would cause words to materialise on it.

“Herald, are you alright?” the voice was soft, so different from the commanding tone she was used to hearing that it took Vee a moment to realise that it belonged to Cullen.

Vee swivelled and hesitated. Her hands had already begun forming the motions of signing, but she wasn’t sure if Cullen would understand. After a moment though, she realised; he was studying her closely at just below chest level. Where she was signing. She completed the movements.

’I’ve been better. My mother wrote me.’

Cullen’s lips moved soundlessly. He was mouthing the words. “I see,” he glanced to the blank paper at Vee’s side. “The reply is not going so well, it seems.”

She broke into a smile, in spite of the unhappy topic. He could understand. Now his long looks towards her in the meetings of the inner circle made so much more sense. He had been trying to work out what she was saying. How long must that have taken him to pick up?

Her face fell again as she considered a response. ’Our relationship is…’ Vee hesitated before settling on ’Strained.’

“Ah… you have my sympathies,” the commander ducked his head. “I did not mean to pry, I simply saw that you had been sitting out here for over an hour. I thought you may be cold.”

’It’s fine. But thank you C u l l e n.’

A smile, tugging the scar above his lip. He suited smiling, Vee decided. “I … think that was my name. Was it my name?”

Vee nodded, tilted her head to the side. ‘Did you learn this by yourself?’

“Not all,” Cullen admitted. “I’m still thoroughly inept at making the signs for myself.”

‘You understand at least. Most can’t,’ Vee was still having to direct most of her communication through Solas and more recently Varric, who had taken no small delight in the realisation that he could now sign obscene jokes to her without anybody else realising, laughing to himself whenever he made her blush in front of other people.

“You’re high on the chain of command. It’s important that I know what you’re saying, if we were to be in the midst of battle, relaying orders through a translator would be a luxury we could ill afford, any delay could possibly result in-” Cullen paused, cutting himself off, sheepish. “Forgive me. I came over to see if you were all right, and now it seems I’m lecturing you, instead.”

Vee grinned. ’I’m used to lectures. That was far from the worst I’ve had,’ in truth, it was just nice that Cullen had gone to such an effort. He may have had his reasons, but there were plenty who would have had good reason to learn to comprehend her signing and hadn’t bothered.

“Oh? It seems I’ve found the only person in Haven willing to listen to me talk,” Cullen glanced over his shoulder and then sighed. “Sadly, duty calls. Best of luck with your letter. Perhaps next time I’ll be able to speak to you in kind,” a salute.

’I look forward to it,’ she answered, and Cullen nodded, turning away with that cute half-smile on his face.

A wisp of an impression drifted behind him.

Comrade. Commander. Can I learn more about her? Can we become friends?

Fenris does sprite stuff!

Fenris does sprite stuff!
Jeez what kind of scrub doesn't put an outfit in their character's appearance



Fenris does sprite stuff!
Holy damn, Fenris, you are a machine at churning these out.

Mah Writings
“You look tired, Squeaks. When’s the last time you slept?”

Vee looked across the small camp to where Varric sat upon a log and gave a shrug. They’d been in the Hinterlands for two weeks now, assisting as best they could with Inquisition efforts to bring some semblance of stability to the region. It was slow going, with apostates and rogue templars seemingly waiting in ambush around every corner. Sometimes with bears. However, as difficult as it sometimes could be, it had to be done; without help, many of the refugees clustering around would die. The Inquisition may have formed in response to the Breach, but they were still supposed to be a force for order. The Hinterlands made it abundantly clear how badly they were needed. Varric had taken to calling her ‘Squeaks’ on the third day, apparently due to her being ‘as quiet as a mouse’. Cute.

“You remind me of someone I know. She never took a moment to rest either. If you’re not careful, the wheels are going to come off.”

Vee made a rapid series of signs. Solas, at the edge of the camp, gave a short snort of a laugh. Varric eyed him for a moment.

“Care to share for those of us that don’t speak with our hands, Chuckles?”

“She said that if she was aware that her mother was going to come on this trip, she would have brought earplugs.”

Varric laughed and grinned. “Point taken, Squeaks. Just trying to look out for you,” his eyes dropped to her hands. “Remind me to give that a shot sometime. It doesn’t really seem fair for you to have to talk through other people.”

’Thank you, V a r r i c.’

“Well, we can begin here; Vee just thanked you,” Solas supplied.

“It would be much simpler to address the cause of her problems,” Cassandra, who had been to that point silent, chipped in. Vee still wasn’t sure what to the make of the Seeker. Very stern, though she no longer held Vee responsible for what had happened at the Conclave. Sometimes she wondered whether Cassandra viewed her as more of an idea – the Herald – than an actual person.

“And did you have any ideas on that front, Cassandra?” Solas answered coldly.

Cassandra looked surprised. “It was not my intention to- Violetta is capable of speaking, at least a little. There must be some way of allowing her to talk again.”

“Should you take the time, you will discover that she is excellent company. It is merely a language you do not understand.”

Cassandra scowled, poking moodily at the campfire with a stick.

Vee caught Solas’s eye. ’It’s all right,’ she signed. ’She was trying to be helpful; I’m sure she didn’t mean anything by it.’

’Very well. I simply do not wish to see your progress played down. You have made excellent strides in a short time.’

’I have a good teacher,’ she winked, and Solas smiled back.

It was strange to think that Solas was the first elf she had ever known on a more than passing basis. They had elf servants back in Ostwick, something which she’d barely thought about at the time, but now caused a vague sense of sickness in her stomach. For many of those that lived in alienages, the most that they could hope for, the pinnacle of what they could accomplish was a job as a servant. It just seemed so… sad.

Solas was very different from any of those elves, and in truth anyone she’d met before, anyone around the Inquisition, too. Others were confused by her, did not understand how she acted; it went beyond just the speech. It hadn’t taken long for it to come out that her memory was a little fractured, not when she’d explained through Solas just how little she could remember about the circumstances surrounding not only the Conclave, but everything that came before. Violetta Trevelyan was like a person that Vee had heard about, or met before, as opposed to, well, her. Solas, on the other hand, didn’t seem to carry any of the same expectations, was content to treat her as a regular person instead of one that was somehow damaged.

That was what hurt most of all about her inability to speak. Her muteness did not make her less than anyone else, nor did it make her simple, as some assumed had to follow. Being different did not mean worse, but that did not stop others from treating her strangely, rudely at worst.

Frail. Firm. Nobody must know. Nobody must harm her.

Vee frowned. The whispers had continued after leaving Haven, although less frequently than before. At times they almost sounded like actual people, but the rest of the time she could barely make sense of them. She hadn’t dared mention it even to Solas, for fear that ‘Sometimes I hear strange voices in my head’ would finally break his patience. It wasn’t as if they were harmful anyway, just odd, like snatches of incomplete thoughts, but not her own. From others? That was difficult to say; certainly sometimes the impressions felt like they may have belonged to someone nearby, but they were never distinct enough for Vee to be certain. Maybe it was part of the mark. It wasn’t like Vee understood that magic, who was to say it couldn’t or didn’t somehow draw those whispers to her? Perhaps they came from the other side of the veil.

That was comforting and distressing at the same time. She shouldn’t be reassured by thinking of things coming across the veil from the Fade, and yet… Vee sighed, shook her head, and crawled over to her bedroll. Varric was right, she needed sleep. Maybe then her mind would stop wandering such strange paths.

Fenris does sprite stuff!

Hello! I can draw something for you if you'd like
Jewel looks gorgeous.

Hello! I can draw something for you if you'd like
I don't often make requests, but I am currently super in love with your style, so I'd like to request Sunny Lee, Frogue =3.


Mah Writings
((It's possible I completely forgot that I was posting this here)).

The next couple of weeks were a bustling hive of activity, not least as everyone tried to work out exactly what an Inquisition was and should represent. Vee spent most of it trying to stay out of the way; easier said than done when she was the renowned ‘Herald’. Every visitor wanted to see her, it seemed, and it was all Vee could do just to stay sane, let alone present herself as the kind of hero that everyone was expecting. They wanted a shining knight out of the storybooks, not a slender whip of a woman barely into her twenties. When they were disappointed, Vee knew every time, as if she herself was feeling the emotion.

A lot was being pinned on her, and though part of her hated the attention, another desperately wanted to avoid letting people down.

More knowledge trickled in steadily, often shaped by the guiding hand of Solas, who was willing to answer any question, no matter how inane, no matter how she faltered and groped for words that she had not yet learned how to sign. Vee could remember more of herself now, as if the longer everything around her was solid, the more solid she became, though perhaps that wasn’t quite right; more comfortable, perhaps. She recalled Ostwick and her family, of the arguments about her knifeplay and the ‘humiliation’ she had brought to them, reminders that she could always be sent away to some convent, like two of her elder sisters. She remembered going to the chantry to become affirmed and deciding out of petulance or defiance that she was going to stay there, neither Templar nor initiate.

Understanding did not come with the knowledge. Vee knew that she was faithful enough to seek that affirmation of her own volition, and yet now when she thought of Maker and Andraste, there was a strange sense of detachment. She knew the words and the prayers, but her feelings towards them were different now. She had looked to them as a symbol, a sign that things could one day improve, and many others treated the Maker in the same way. That made Him a positive thing, to her convictions. He brought belief and hope for the future… but also brutality, suffering at the hands who would wield His word as a weapon. For some the Maker, in his absence, was a source of little more than despair. It twisted Vee’s feelings, made them confusing and strange.

She preferred to concentrate on her lessons with Solas instead. He was patient; firm, but never harsh, a good teacher. He accompanied her often as she walked about Haven on some task or another, and though it was disenchanting to need him there as an interpreter when she <i>knew</i> the words, just could not speak them, he always relayed what she had said exactly as she had said it. Vee appreciated that. It made her feel a little more like she had a voice again. Spoken word remained elusive, a concept that at times she felt that she had grasped, only for it to slip away at the last instant. She still had not managed to say more than her name in almost half a month.

“Violetta? Can you come over here for a moment?” the voice called out from a tent as Vee passed, and she stopped. It had grown familiar over the past while. Leliana. Spymaster. Vee turned and ducked into the tent, glancing over at the reports covering the desks within. Already so many; how quickly the Inquisition was growing into a living and breathing creature.

Leliana turned, smiled, and then deftly signed ’I understand you have been learning this.’

Vee’s eyes widened, and her gestures were faltering as she replied. ’You know how to sign?’

‘After a fashion. I have learned a number of signalling systems, and this one was similar to some of them. S o l a s helped fill in the blanks.’

Vee smiled. ’He is helpful.' tilting her head to the side. ’Was there something you needed?’

’I had questions. Of the variety best asked in private.’

Raising an eyebrow, Vee said nothing.

’You were with the chantry?’ - Vee thought that was chantry, anyway. The symbol wasn’t unlike ‘temple’.

’Yes. I was protecting the sisters.’

’But you are not a priest-knight.’

Templar, Vee realised. She shook her head. ’Almost. I have three brothers in the order.’

’I see. No Templar, but you can fight.’ Leliana trailed off and then gave a slight nod. ’That was all. If you have the time, we were about to have a meeting about our next move.’

Left perplexed, Vee nevertheless signed assent and followed Leliana out of the tent and towards the chantry. What exactly was the woman getting at? Vee knew that Leliana had been very close to the deceased Divine, but so far as she was aware, Vee’s role at the conclave had never really been in question. Well, apart from the period where they’d been convinced that she had blown the whole thing up, but that had been smoothed over. In so much as an enormous explosion tearing a hole in the veil could be considered smoothed. Vee had assumed that Leliana and company already knew about her and her family, considering they’d been aware of whom she was before she was even conscious again.

Waiting inside was Cassandra alongside a man and a woman that Vee had seen around Haven a few times already. The man was blonde, armoured, had the look of the soldier. The woman held a writing board and carried herself like the nobles Vee had spent so much of her childhood around.

Cassandra inclined her head. “Violetta, this is Commander Cullen, leader of the Inquisition’s forces, and Lady Josephine Montilyet, our ambassador and chief diplomat. Leliana you know.”

“My lady.”

’I have heard much. It’s a pleasure to meet you at last.’ the woman, Josephine signed. Vee’s surprise must have been obvious, because she spoke then, her accent richly Antivan. “My role as diplomat has given me cause to learn as many languages as possible. Though, I’m afraid I know only a little of yours, as of yet.”

’I appreciate the effort. Thank you.’

Josephine gave a courteous little dip of a curtsey. Cullen, Vee noticed, was closely watching her hands, as if trying to work out the meaning of the shapes that she had formed.

The meeting proceeded quickly from the introductions, and Vee was surprised that the group was willing to look to her input as much as anyone else, albeit filtered through Leliana. She felt grossly underqualified to be here, with little more than a mark on her hand and a head full of mangled memories that may as well have belonged to a different person for as much good they did for her here. Vee wasn’t an expert, she was just someone that had managed to be lucky enough not to die.
The rest of the group came to the conclusion that if the Inquisition was to get any help from the chantry at all, they would need to seek out a woman called Mother Giselle, who had been aiding refugees in the Hinterlands. Vee expected that to be the end of it, but then found that Josephine was hesitantly glancing at her.

“There is one more matter for your attention, Lady Trevelyan. There have been some… unsavoury rumours about your continued silence. Some of our visitors are uneasy, and the last thing we need at the moment is to give anyone ammunition against us.”

’We feel you should accompany the party to find the Mother. It will be good for our reputation for you to be seen in action, especially if you can close rifts in the process,’ Leliana signed.

Rifts. Solas had taught Vee that one. She cast her eyes down. More fighting… but others were relying on her, everyone in the Inquisition. Protecting others and more importantly, ensuring that their belief was not in vain; those were more important than her own scruples.

’I understand. Let me prepare.’

She didn’t need to be able to speak to help.

Battle of the Roosters

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All the little angels rise up, rise up...
one of our dogs is called Dibbler, even.

All the little angels rise up, rise up...
I'm absolutely devastated. Pterry's books were a massive part of my childhood and teens, and a huge amount of bonding between me and much of my family.