(via thewaroffivequeens)
Posts tagged Dragon Age.
in their blood, the Maker’s will is written.
(via dirtyanonsofthedas)
Confession: Shianni is my most loved NPC in Dragon Age that why I hope she make it in to Dragon Age 3 as a party member like Merrill did in DA2.
I’d love to see her appear in another game, but I don’t think she necessarily needs to be a companion. Maybe a leader for elf rights!
friendly reminder that should The Warden convince Alistair to go through with the Dark Ritual, a grey dog suspiciously alike the form Morrigan shape-shifts into can be seen standing by Sten at the coronation. ✿◕‿◕✿Is that true? Neat! I’ve never put Alistair on the throne, so I’ve never seen his coronation, period.
Yeah, the dog is there at the end no matter what, as I recall, when you go talk to the companions at the very end. Sten’s at the back and the dog is next to him.
I am a fly in the ointment, a whisper in the shadows. I am also an old, old woman. More than that, you need not know.
(via thedivinemissema)
I was just trying to do a mindless doodle and suddenly FEELINGS.
—
It’s been years since she’s seen him. But once Hawke and the others leave them alone, they’re on each other like they’re back on the ship sailing away from Antiva and the body of her husband. She scoops him up in her arms like she used to, and he chuckles in her ear.
“A decade or so hasn’t done anything to make you any less frisky, my dear Isabela.”
“And it hasn’t done anything to affect your tongue, I see.” Her eyes gleam. “Or at least, I certainly hope not.”
“Rest assured, that part of me with never wither.” He’s such a beautiful man, even after all this time. The new lines sprouting from the edge of his hazel eyes do nothing to diminish the spark in them, and while he feels leaner than she remembers, that might be because of how she’s changed. When they fled, she was fresh from the cossetted life of being Luis’ wife. Life at the helm roughened her palms and strengthened her arms. Granted, it’s been a while since she had a ship to keep her sharp, but being Hawke’s companion has stopped her getting rusty.
In more ways than one. Hawke is one of those admirable spirits who doesn’t seem to get jealous over what their bedpartners get up to outside the bedchamber, and she had even offered Isabela a wink before leading Merrill and Varric away. Now, Isabela gives the woman a passing thought before she topples Zevran back onto the ground, sits astride his waist and starts deftly undoing the buckles on his armour.
She’s missed him, more than she’s willing to put into words. This might be the only chance they have to relive the days they travelled together, before he had to return to the life of an assassin and she got mixed up with slavers. So she’ll make the most of this moment before they are inevitably blown apart again.
In another life, they might have been magnificent together. But it was not the way things had worked out. So she must be content with this.
Zevran’s hands catch hers, and he lifts them to his mouth to kiss her fingertips, smiling impishly up at her. “You still like to be on top, I see.”
“It’s easier on you. You might have slowed down after the last few years, old man.” He hasn’t. His disposal of the Crows not fifteen minutes ago proved that he was as spry as ever.
“I am starting to feel old,” he says, surprisingly candid, and she looks down at him with eyebrows arching, and the scratch of nervousness against her spine when somebody reveals more about themselves than she’s comfortable with. He twines his fingers with hers. “But I can certainly pretend otherwise, when the mood suits me. As it does at this moment.” He reaches upwards to touch her cheek. “Ah, Bela. The years have been kind to you.”
“Less kind than you might think.” Would he despise her, if he knew everything she’d done since she’d seen him last?
“But you appear to have made friends. Loyal ones. Do you think Castillion’s presence in this city escaped my notice? And that I heard nothing of how a pirate queen strolled into the Viscount’s Keep at the final hour with the one thing that would make the qunari go home on her hip? And how, instead of letting the Arishok take home the thief, the Champion of Kirkwall was almost killed in a duel to save her?”
Of course he’s been keeping an eye on her. The thought shouldn’t surprise her. But she doesn’t like this summing up of events, and she rises slightly, ready to walk away from him. He catches her hands, very gently.
“I’m not here to rebuke you. I just want to pretend we’re back on that ship, and you’ve just torn off the hem off your dress to make your first bandanna and are turning to me with that wild look of freedom and happiness in your eyes before taking me below decks.” He caresses her face. “Those weeks were the happiest of my life.”
“Mine, too.” She loves Hawke. She’s come to terms with that. And Hawke is never boring to be with. But even the Champion can’t match that intoxicating sensation of finally being free and on the waves.
“Then let’s play pretend.”
She nods, and regains herself as Zevran’s hands settle around her waist, pulling her forward into a kiss that is tender for a few moments before hardening into what she needs.
If she shuts her eyes, they are fifteen years younger. She can smell the salt spray and feel the hot Antivan sun scorching her shoulders and not care. The rocking of Zevran’s hips becomes the rocking of the deck beneath her and when she cries out at the end, it is the same sound she made then, a long-caged animal celebrating its freedom.
omg I am dying of feels. I JUST LOVE THESE TWO SO MUCH
ME TOOOOOOO
OMG SKETCHY *rolls around in all the feels* I love this <3
Dragon Age, roleplay silliness, a smattering of ASOIF and whatever else strikes my fancy.
