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Entry tags:
November 2022 Test Drive Meme
NOVEMBER 2022 TDM
INTRODUCTION
Welcome to Folkmore's monthly Test Drive Meme! Please feel free to test drive any and all characters regardless of your intent to apply or whether you have an invite or not.
All TDMs are game canon. You can choose to have your TDM thread be your introduction thread upon acceptance or start fresh. Each TDM will provide a scenario for how characters arrive in-game that particular month.
Playing TDMs will allow characters to immediately obtain canon items from homes especially weapons or other things they may have had on their person when they were pulled from their worlds! There will always be a prompt that provides some sort of "reward" to characters who complete certain tasks.
Current players are allowed to have in-game characters react to TDMs via the Network or make a log with the prompts. Current players are always encouraged to tag new people on the TDM!
TDM threads can be used for spoon spending at any time by characters accepted into the game.
You snap to awareness, ready perhaps to fight or flee, and find that you are… sitting on a couch. Huh.
Yes, you have fallen from the sky, Star Child, to wind up inside a cozy lodge There are several other couches dotting the spacious room, host largely to new arrivals like yourself. The lodge is rustic, built of wooden logs and stone, with a massive fireplace dominating one wall. Through an open archway just past the fireplace there is a mellowly lit bar serving free hot chocolate as well as spirits. The bar is tended by a tall, fluffy white creature with earmuffs on. Star Children from Earth might think it looks like a bigfoot or a yeti, but cute. The bartender speaks in a soft, low voice and can direct you to the other half of the lodge, where you can borrow winter clothes and outdoor equipment.
What sort of equipment? Skis, of course! And snowboards, and snowshoes too!
Step outside the lodge and you will discover that you are at the base of one of the mountains in Wintermute. It rises majestically, the very tip lost amongst white clouds. The snow is a perfect powder, ideal for beginners and experts alike.
There is a wooden sign near the rental area pointing the way to the Bunny Hill.
The ski hill is manned entirely by rabbits. They are mostly white and grey, but you can spot them against the snow because they are all wearing little winter coats. They will help get you into your skis or on your board or what-have-you, and they will be your silent instructors. If you don’t want to downhill ski and would rather snowshoe around, one of the bunnies will guide you to safe paths. No matter what you’re doing, the rabbits insist on pairing you with another Star Child. Bunnies believe in the buddy system! Might be a good time to get to know someone else. In fact, you’ll notice that the more you talk to someone else, the more your winter sports skills improve, and the happier you will feel.
If you go off course, whether on ski or board or shoe, having a buddy makes it far more likely that you can find your way back to the lodge safely!
Content Warnings: Monster fighting, optional violence.
ADDRESSED TO THE FIRE
WILDEST WINTER
ADDRESSED TO THE FIRE
Among the snow laden pines, all is not still. There is a soft chiming noise you may be able to hear, and amongst the tree branches move hundreds of tiny blue forms. These humanoid figures are no more than three inches tall, sparkling like fresh fallen snow. Wherever their feet touch frost forms, and they flit and dance overhead joyfully, occasionally causing snow to dislodge from the branches and fall to the ground below. You may be hit with a light shower of the stuff if you happen to be below, which is all in great fun… but you best be careful where you step, as a heavy load of snow can hurt you quite badly.
These little ice spirits seem friendly enough, flying down to inspect you. You might not even notice that they are herding you further into the evergreen forest, away from the sun and into the shadows. If you do notice and try to resist, they will dart lightly across any exposed skin, causing sharp stabs of cold. If they do this enough, there is a real danger of frostbite. The spirits don’t die if you squish them - they just puff into a cloud of snow, and there are so many of them that it’s unlikely you could hurt enough of them to escape.
The ice spirits lead you to a clearing before they abruptly vanish - they have done a wonderful job of disorienting you, and their icy feet have filled up your footprints so you cannot follow your own trail back. Here, it is quite dark, and trying to find your way back is nigh impossible. In the center of the clearing is a small pile of wood and kindling, just waiting for a spark. There is a a small metal box next to this and inside is a pack of matches and a note reading:
The heart, like fire, must be fed to stay alight.
Memories held dear burn brightest of all.
You will find that you can light the fire very easily, but keeping it from going out is a challenge! It keeps guttering and threatening to plunge you into the cold darkness. That is, unless you take a cue from the note and share some things about yourself with your companion. The more you share, or the more private the story, the more strongly the fire will burn. It never requires more wood - if you have a good conversation with someone it will last til morning quite easily, and keep you warm the whole time.
Once morning does arrive, you will find that somehow another box has appeared, set just to the side of the clearing. This one is a proper wooden chest, and inside you will discover some canon item from your homeworld - this can include magical objects or weapons.
A racoon in a red and yellow sweater will waddle into the clearing once you have discovered your prize and escort you safely out of the evergreen forest.
WILDEST WINTER
Okay, but maybe you hate sharing time. Maybe you’d rather take your chances with the dark woods. It’s possible to create a torch with the supplies in the clearing, or maybe you have other ways of lighting your way. Heck, maybe you just have halfway decent night vision!
As you make your way through the woods, you might notice that there are weapons half covered by snow lying about. These are all normal, unenchanted weapons - knives, swords, guns. Sweet, free swag!
But be warned: the moment you touch any of these weapons you will hear the howling of a blizzard wind. The air will turn colder still, and then out of the darkness will stalk a monstrous being roughly the size and shape of a polar bear, but haphazardly covered in ice-like spikes. These ice crystals are deadly sharp and incredibly hard, so you’ll have to aim carefully between them to pierce the monster’s flesh. It is possible to melt them if you have the means to generate enough heat.
The creature is every bit as fast and strong as a polar bear, so you really don’t want to let it catch you! Teamwork is probably your best option to fight it - running might not be your best option in this case, although the bear might be too big to be able to climb a tree with much success. Maybe. Possibly. You sure you want to risk it?
If you defeat the ice bear, it will melt away to nothing, leaving in its place a heart-shaped box. Inside you will find a canon item. If you manage to make it to morning without killing the creature, you will escape with your life and whatever unenchanted weapon you picked up.
The sweatered racoon will appear at dawn to guide you back to the ski lodge.
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Hawke laughed. Just once. A loud bark of laughter that echoed around the empty forest. He was a decent man, but not a perfect one. The fall was funny and he didn't even try to stop himself.
Then he awkwardly shuffled his way over and offered the woman a hand to help her up. "Here. Try going slower. I've found it's a bit easier."
Yet, he still planned to take the damned things off as soon as he couldn't see the little rabbit bastards anymore. They had given him enough trouble. "Got your feet back under you?" Hawke didn't want to let go of her hand until he was confident she wouldn't end up in the snow again. It was unpleasant to lie around in the stuff for long.
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And Hawke's mouth twisted into a wry smile as she tried to flail her way up to the surface, a mess of black mesh and fishnet and makeup.
"Slow. I can do that. Even though I've never seen anything like this before and I'm angry about it, despite how cute the bunnies were in their little coats. Sometimes, I think they get off on it."
And Hawke managed to get back to something which wasn't humiliating. If any outsiders were taking pictures of this and sending them back to Seb, she was going to kick their asses.
"Yeah, sure. I mean, right! It's fine, it's fine, don't worry about me, I always wind up fine." Even though those around her usually wound up less than fine. "Aaaaanyway, I'm Hawke. Sarajane Hawke. Who're you?"
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Once she had her feet under her Hawke set off again, moving even slower to make sure she could keep up. And to avoid the same fate of face planting into the snow and making an idiot of himself. For once, he looked competent and capable and did not want to lose that.
"Garrett Hawke," he said with amusement. "I usually have people call me Hawke but I suppose that would get confusing. You'll just have to call me Garrett."
In all his time in Ferelden and the Free Marches he had never met another Hawke outside his family. It deeply amused him that in this strange winter land he did finally meet someone with the same last name. Maybe it was more common here. Maybe there was a whole family of local Hawkes he could share a joke with about last names and birds.
That would be nice given how he felt like a stranger wandering this place knowing he could not reach Varric, his most trusted friend.
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And Sarajane managed to keep up now that she knew what it was she was supposed to be doing. That was usually how it worked. Like how in Kirkwall, the gangs ran towards the bitchy mage and her armed to the teeth companions. Dumbasses.
"Garrett it is. We have the same last name, so that could get confusing. So it's Sarajane or SJ. I've even been known to respond to 'hey you bitch' on occasion." And she knows damned good and well that there are more than one Inquisitor. More than one Hawke? Probably better off diving more deeply into that once she wasn't making an idiot of herself.
And the last name made her miss Carver. And be grateful that she'd gotten him out of the line of fire before his mad Warden skills became even more mad. Thank fuck for Aveline.
As for Varric, Sarajane had made it clear to him that he was going to have to stand in as family for her wedding to Sebastian. Whether Varric liked it or not. And Sarajane was certain he wouldn't. Which, if she was being really honest with herself, was a huge part of the appeal.
She wanted to run through the streets of Kirkwall and Starkhaven both, screaming that she was marrying the prince of Starkhaven and he was totally okay with her being a lifelong apostate mage. She could probably do it. Seb would consider it adorable.
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"Starkhaven?" He stopped and grabbed her by the shoulders to make sure she stopped and didn't keep walking. "You know Starkhaven? In the Free Marches?"
Someone from home? Hawke almost couldn't believe it. It seemed impossible that he'd meet anyone from Thedas here much less someone who was familiar with the Free Marches. Another Ferelden refugee?
No, no, her name was Hawke. That was impossible. The only women named Hawke related to him was his sister Bethany and his mother. Both were dead and neither of them had ever looked like the woman he spoke with now.
Some relative of father's that he'd never spoken of? That was highly possible considering all the secrets Malcolm Hawke kept from them with the Warden prison. Maybe there was a second family he knew nothing about?
Or... someone else had the name Hawke? That was probably more reasonable than a wild idea about his father having more secrets.
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And she looked surprised at the question. "Of course I know Starkhaven. My kinda sorta official unofficially fiancé is the prince. I've been hiding out there for a while and I can only assume that Varric didn't know that 'cause I'm sure he ignores Seb's letters. I need to start sending him letters along with Seb's so to get to mine, he has to actually acknowledge Sebastian's existence."
Don't remind Sarajane of either woman. Both, she'd completely failed and both, she was fairly sure she'd never get over. And she knew there was a Hero of Ferelden and three Inquisitors, the notion of running into more people from Thedas was kind of a given in her mind.
Another Hawke? Someone who wasn't her, but still bore the name and family and a really shitty progression of choices to make? Seemed plausible enough.
"Okay, this is gonna sound wild, but I'm pretty sure you're me. Or I'm you. It's a whole alternate universe thing and it happens a lot. I've lost track of how many different versions of Earth there are, so why not a bunch of Thedases? Whatever the plural of it would be."
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"Sebastian? You're going to marry that prick?" Hawke laughed again. "Now, I've heard a lot of insane things but that's... that's madness."
And then another thought made him shut up fast. He ground his jaw together as a whole mess of painful emotions twisted around in his stomach and thoughts tangled together in his head. "You... did you kill him? Anders?"
Hawke didn't care if the rabbits saw him. He snapped his fingers and burned the ties from around the stupid shoes. He needed to pace. He needed to move and somehow express the surge of wild emotions and madness whipping through him.
He walked away from her to do just that, clenching and unclenching his fists. Strangely he felt sick, again mostly because of what her fiance comment implied. Sebastian had demanded Anders head and even though Hawke hadn't approved of what his lover had done he hadn't been able to kill him. He'd forced him to run instead. Sebastian hated him and the feeling was mutual.
Hawke stopped pacing and faced... well himself wasn't it? "Okay, explain it to me slowly. Carefully. Like I am a particularly stupid beggar because I need more than just declaring we're the same."
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"The prick who stopped in to visit me every day for a year after mom died? Who listened to me when I tried to figure out some way I could saved her and/i> Bethany and didn't judge me for it or brush it aside? 'Cause he knew how it felt to lose one's family and he wanted to help, just because he could? The one who said he wanted to marry me, regardless of me being an apostate? That one?" And Sarajane tilted her head up, staring at the sky. "Andraste's tits, can't I have one person? Just one person who understands me, supports me, and actually believes in me? And why can't that one person be Sebastian?"
And she closed her eyes. "Look. I'm not asking you to get it. You're you and I'm me. And that's been made really clear by the fact that we have all of three Inquisitors, two of them with almost exactly the same names? This place is a clusterfuck of enormous proportions and I'm still trying to figure it all out myself, while missing the man I love every day."
"As for Anders...I did what he wanted me to do. Make him a martyr. Because he lied to my face repeatedly, got all the rest of us involved as accomplices, and by the way? Killed the closest thing to a second mother Seb had, as shitty as she was?"
She sighed and purposefully tipped back into the snow, a mass of black mesh, fishnet, lace, and leather, eyes closed and choking back tears at feeling like her choices were being maligned again.
Faintly, she spoke "and by the way, we sided with saving the mages. Seb was completely on-board with the idea, too. I've been in Starkhaven ever since. Well, except for my mega-fun, ultra good-times adventure in the Fade for the Inquisition, followed by a nice, bracing walk to the Anderfels to tell the Wardens one of their own fell out of the stupid tree and nailed every branch on the way down."
She sighed and rolled over onto her right side in the snow. "I'm fucking exhausted. Okay? It's exhausting, trying to justify myself back home and now I'm here. So can we like. Call a truce or an agree to disagree thing?"
And she turned over back onto her back, her black eye-makeup and lipstick smudged by the snow, making what looked like little tears running down the right side of her face.
"There are multiple versions of multiple worlds. The most common seems to be versions of what they call Earth. Which is a shitty name for a planet, who'd name their planet dirt? Lack of fucking imagination. And, yeah, there are at least three different versions of Thedas here. We're both mages, but you're a guy and I'm not. Our father's name was Malcolm Hawke, but for your dad, was it an alias for an apostate elf?"
"Dad's dead, Bethy's dead, mom's dead, Carver's a Warden and I see him maybe twice a year. And I'm sorry as fuck if any of that happened to you, too. You don't deserve it." And maybe I do hung unspoken in the air.
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"Anders was the one that visited me," Hawke explained when he managed to get his emotions under control. He had to rapidly blink to clear the tears from his eyes. Maker, the thought of Anders dead just ripped him apart. "Sebastian and I were friends once. I didn't always think him a prick but that friendship soured when he demanded I kill the man I loved. So, forgive me if I have some negative opinions about him."
It was hard for him to understand how any mage could love a Chantry preaching, self-righteous man like Sebastian. He couldn't understand a Sebastian who helped support mages either but Hawke was self aware enough to know it was his own feelings also tainting his thoughts and opinions.
"Anders betrayed me and used me, but I couldn't bring myself to kill him. Shattered as I was by his actions. Broken hearted doesn't really cover it. Still, not at his demand. Not at Sebastian's." He walked over to the other version of himself and offered her a hand to help her to her feet. "I'm deep in hiding at home, constantly on the run to avoid the Chantry and Templars and Starkhaven forces on occasion. I would say comparably you have it easy but it's never easy, is it? To see everything you built and the happiness you had crumble. I only occasionally write Varric because I can't put the others at risk."
If she had been anyone else, he wouldn't have been this forthright with his opinions and thoughts and feelings. Even Varric didn't know the true extend of how deeply what happened in Kirkwall destroyed Hawke. How could he worry his best friend like that? How could he worry any of them?
"I'm the last person who could judge you. Arguably you have better taste in men than I do. Your lover didn't betray you. Never would, knowing Sebastian." Hawke sighed heavily. "I still might speak out of turn about him though. I'm bad at holding my tongue."
"I still don't really understand this, but I believe you. You wouldn't make shit like this up just to play a trick. It's not even a good Varric lie."
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Even with that eroding trust on his end, it still hurt to actually...do what Anders wanted done. She couldn't let herself react, she couldn't let herself cry. The most she could do was frantically scrub at her hands with a handkerchief to try and get the blood off.
So when she's told that in another world, Anders was the one to be supportive after mother's death, she can believe it wholeheartedly.
"I get it. And...I'm not mad at Anders. I'm just...sad. That it came to that. That he didn't feel like he could trust me anymore, because why else would he lie," Sarajane said in an exhausted tone of voice.
And it wasn't even Sebastian's belief in the Chantry which did it. Frankly, she'd always been a skeptic, but she envied him the ability to believe so whole-heartedly in anything. And it was awe-inspiring when that belief grew to encompass her as well. How could she not love a man who poured such faith into her?
(even though Elthina annoyed the crap out of her. 'here's Hawke to drag you off into another adventure!' as though Sebastian wasn't a grown man who could make his own choices. jerking him around by his status in the Chantry also made SJ see red)
"I...well. I can't imagine what that felt like. To love Anders and have--that happen. And I understand, I do, how you couldn't kill him." And she released a sharp, short bark of laughter. "One more way I fucked up." But she took his hand and let him help her back up.
And she nodded at the statement that he'd had to be in hiding, barely contacting Varric. "I wasn't exactly the Chantry's or the Templar's favorite person, either, after telling them to go to the Void. So. Yeah. I wasn't exactly living like a princess, other than the time I was hidden in a saferoom behind the wine cellar. His parents had great taste in wines.
But for the most part, I was moving from one hiding place to another while he worked on the nobles--after all, the Prince of Starkhaven marrying an unrepentant apostate mage? Quite a scandal." And she sighs. "I write to Varric, too, but there are some topics which neither one of us are willing to go near. Pretty sure you can guess which ones. And I'm trying to look at it as one more thing on a nice long list of things I fucked up along the way. Nothing I can do about it now? Other than be sorry go over it in my head, trying to figure out how I could have stopped it. Or kept Anders from feeling like he needed to do it."
And if he'd been anyone else? She'd have kept up the front that no matter what she'd done, she had no regrets. But the truth is, she's nearly consumed by them. The most recent on the list is leaving the Grey Warden who saved Carver's life behind in the Fade and almost certain death. Along the way to Weisshaupt to tell the Wardens what had happened, she sent letters to Sebastian as often as possible. He was about her only not a regret.
"Ehh, you've got reasons. I won't take it personally, or at least I'll try not to. 'Cause, you know, you're a different Hawke than me. Different experiences, different ways of looking at certain things. Stuff like that. Damn. This whole multiple versions of a planet thing is fucking weird.
Though, now I kinda want the two of us to be in a room with Varric at the same time. It would absolutely blow his mind."
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Hawke felt a little surge of frustration and anger. Oh, she had to hide in a wine cellar and politics were holding up her marriage? Poor thing! He didn't even have a wine cellar to hide in. All his dreams of marriage and a simple life were as burned down as the Chantry in Kirkwall.
But none of it showed on his face. Hawke was exceptionally good at hiding his true emotions now. He had a lot of practice after Kirkwall. His smile was still tired but pleasant. None of this was easy to talk about. He wanted a strong drink and to stop thinking about it for awhile.
"You kept talking about Inquisitors. What are those?" he asked, shifting the conversation away from their various mistakes. They had made different choices, chosen different paths and yet Anders had still done what he'd done. That thought carried a heavy sense of despair that he did not want to deal with right now. That sort of mourning was for private when no one could see him.
Instead, he chose to focus on that bit. Sarajane had brought it up twice now when explaining the multiple worlds business and she seemed very familiar with them. Hawke wasn't. That's was interesting.
Maybe they weren't fully the same Hawke. Maybe choices did matter and changed things. Hawke was hoping for that, though it changed nothing of what happened with Anders maybe he could make it right and fix what had been done. Maybe, just maybe, he could redeem himself.
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Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately?), she was also the queen of understatement. When she was in that saferoom, it lasted for ten months and Starkhaven being on the verge of civil war, given Sebastian's conditions for accepting the crown. Which she felt horrible about and offered to go, just go...wherever. Get out of his hair so he could live his life without complications. Near exact quote, that. But he told her she was a complication he loved and wasn't willing to let go of. Leading to more inward guilt and self-recriminations. She's good at those, too.
She could use a drink, too. There was this kind here she'd never heard of, tequila. It was an incredible way to drown her sorrows.
"...ohhhhh, shit. I'm from a future. Shit, how do I find a way to explain this which doesn't take forever and sound like word vomit," and she drew in a breath, letting it out in a sigh. "Okay. You know Corypheus? Turns out he wasn't as dead as we thought he was. And it turns out he was one of those Tevinter magisters who made the Black City and turned into a darkspawn. And he was pissed and wanted to remake the world and so at a Conclave for mages and Templars to get their shit sorted out, he kind of...brainwashed Grey Wardens to work as his flunkies, tried to kill the Divine, but failed. Leaving a series of giant rifts which were tossing out demons like the gangs tossed out battle fodder.
Anyway, someone--Lila Trevelyan, she's around here somewhere--interrupted things and wound up being the only one who could fix them 'cause she had a mark on her hand which was the way to close the rifts. And she became the Inquisitor.
And--oh, shit. Here's the fun part. Remember red lyrium? It's fucking everywhere now and Corypheus used it to make the Templars even more murder-happy and powerful than they already were.
No, wait, here's the fun part: I was researching the red lyrium and got mixed into the Grey Warden mess 'cause remember the guy who recruited and saved Carver? He wasn't happy with how the Orlesian Wardens were doing things and that is putting it mildly. So we both were trying to figure out what the fuck was going on and that's when Varric wrote to me, telling me the Inquisition needed me to help.
Etcetera etcetera, exciting adventure in the Fade, etcetera Nightmare demons who called me out on all of the shit I'd ever done wrong in my life aaaaaand, fun team-up, blood mage crazy Wardens trying to get a demon army 'cause Corypheus made them think they were all gonna die, and once I'm out of the Fade, I was sent to Weisshaupt to tell the First Warden about the Orlesian Warden Commander. The one who fell out of the stupid tree I mentioned?
Okay. I think that's most of it? Shit. And by fun team-up, I mean something I never want to do again, ever." And she blew out a large breath, eyes wide. "So that sums it up. I think?"
She swore, once she was back in Starkhaven, she was sitting somewhere nice and public so people could say the nasty shit they'd been saying behind her back to her face. And then maybe she and Seb could marry. Maybe? She could dream, couldn't she?
And Sarajane had mostly given up on the idea of redeeming herself. She'd fucked it up way too many times, she was pretty amazed Seb still loved her anyway.
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"We need a drink."
He claps her on the should and then immediately starts off in a direction because it seems the most reasonable way to go for some sort of tavern. All her words are a lot to take in, almost as much as there's another version of himself and she's marrying Sebastian and killed Anders. It's a lot even for Hawke who considers himself an expert at handling bullshit and the wild twists and turns the Maker likes to throw at him.
A drink will fix none of this but enough of them means he will not care about it anymore. It's a simple solution really but effective.
"I've heard rumors of the mages and Chantry talking," he explains as he walks in his chosen direction. If she knows the right way she should probably speak up because he's making great strides without the snowshoes. "Some people in the mage underground say they're going to finally come together to talk about peace and what it would take for the mages to be free. Some people think I should go and reveal myself after all this time but nothing's happened yet. It's still almost war between Templars and mages."
And there was Hawke trying to fix it all behind the scenes. He's protected innocent mages from zealots. He's protected Templars from mages. He's protected innocent people who were just trying to live their lives from both sides. All the while trying to find some way to end it that wasn't turning himself into the Chantry to be killed or made Tranquil.
It's exhausting and miserable work but it had to be done because it was his fault it had all started.
"I suppose if I get back to my world perhaps I can change it." He drags his lower lip between his teeth. "Carver is okay after all that, right?"
The thought of losing the only family he still had was terrifying. Hawke couldn't handle that loss in the future if it had to happen. He assumes everything Sarajane said had to happen because Kirkwall still exploded.
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And the clap on the shoulder makes the smile grow bigger and more genuine instead of wry and self-deprecating. She wondered if that was something they had in common, too, the self-deprecating? But she has to speak up. "Uh. Wrong direction entirely. The Prancing Pony is this way," and she points in its general direction. "It's cute. Not as dirty as The Hanged Man and I say that with love and genuine nostalgia. Anyway, they serve a drink called a Long Island Iced Tea? No idea where Long Island is and what it has to do with alcohol, but it. Is. Choice. Nothing but different kinds of alcohol, all mixed together and served with a cute paper umbrella and a cherry."
And Sarajane considered herself a cosmic chew-toy ever since she arrived. All of the earlier shit had her exhausted, but now she's absolutely certain that there is a Maker and he's fucking with her.
"So did I before the whole, uh, Conclave getting blown to pieces and no survivors except Lila. Seb wanted us to go and serve as an example of a Chantry guy and a mage being lovey-dovey and happy. I talked him out of it 'cause it sounded too good to be true and. So grateful I did. Because, y'know, the no survivors except Lila thing? So, no. No showing yourself and going to the Conclave. Ever. In fact, try being in an entirely different area of Thedas during the Conclave? I hear Antiva is nice that time of year.
Anyway, I figured Seb needed to focus on mages within Starkhaven since their Circle was burned down while he was in Kirkwall and I said there had to be a better way than just reopening the Circles, right? So I was thinking and convincing on local schools, turns out the new Divine feels the same way. So no Exalted March on Starkhaven, yay?
Oh, and we're giving a ton of money and builders to try and help Kirkwall since, uh, we both feel like shit about everything that happened aaaaaand want to help? I swear, half of the nobles in Starkhaven hate my guts and think I'm some kind of blood mage who entrapped Seb in my wily web of magic and sex because of the whole lenience towards mages thing and the eventually becoming their princess-consort thing. The laugh's on them, I still haven't gotten any further than groping over clothes."
Making policy from behind the scenes in one part of the Free Marches may not mean much, but it was a step in the right direction for at least one part of Thedas. And she planned to emphasize the "princess" part of "princess-consort" and keep having a say in policy. A very heavy-duty say in policy since she and Sebastian were one of those couples. And because he kept believing in her, no matter what happened. It was both weird and amazing at the same time. And had she mentioned she hadn't gotten beyond groping?
"Andraste's hairy pits, I hope you can. Someone's got to. But, seriously. No Conclave. Just to be on the safe side. And...Carver's fine. Aveline did me--well, us--a favor and got him out of the line of fire. Even though he sent me an incredibly pouty letter while I was at Skyhold. But, you know how it is. He's all we got left when it comes to family. Can't fuck that up." Because she'd already fucked up with mom and Bethy and she was an absolutely shitty bread-winner before the Blight because she couldn't reveal the whole apostate mage thing and that made everything a thousand times harder than they needed to be.
But, she was going to drown her sorrows and help him drown his by the application of lots of shots of tequila. Or six Long Island Iced Teas. Apiece. Then there would be weeping and more bonding time and weeping over the bonding time and the various things they each felt shitty about.
First on Sarajane's agenda? The fact that no matter what Thedas it was, Bethy never survived. That was a great thing to feel shitty about and it was one they had in common, so crying was pretty much mandatory. Right?
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"There's no tea in it?" That seemed like a bad name. It should have been called "get fucked" in Hawke's opinion. Still, it sounded exactly like what he needed. He was haunted by the idea of Anders dead at his hand. Not his hand. Her hand. But they were both Hawkes. It's close enough that he feels the guilt himself. The heartache is immeasurable. For the first time in years Hawke wants to find Anders. He never thought he'd feel that way again after Kirkwall.
But he puts it aside for now and listens to Sarajane continue to explain the future to him. She says no Conclave and she's very insistent but to Hawke the Conclave sounds like the key point, the thing he needs to change in order for things not to get worse.
Not that it matters since he's now in this world and not in Thedas. He can't stop anything right now. That is more frustrating than trying to walk in those stupid shoes. He needs to fix things and he can't. He has all the information he needs to set things right and he can't do that. He can't do anything.
Except get drunk with himself. Which is going to be an utter disaster that this world might never recover from. Hawke's looking forward to that.
"Why didn't we do something smart and marry Aveline?" he asks to lighten the mood between them. "We would've been unstoppable if we married Aveline. We're idiots aren't we?"
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"Nope, none at all. There might be something called cola? But seriously, you'd never notice, it's pretty much pure booze. Making it ~~amazing~~!" And Sarajane was terrified of what might happen if Anders arrived. Probably run in the opposite direction, screaming like a maniac, and casting spells in her wake to try and keep him from kicking her ass. It worked for the Arishok? It probably would work again? As long as she did the exact same thing every time Anders was within eyeshot. Or earshot. Or anything within range shot. Until they were inevitably forced into a life or death situation for both of them and they had to get along long enough to solve the problem. Then back to screaming and running, casting spells like a maniac!
And she's mostly rambling to try and keep her thoughts together. She was always a very open mouth, out came absolutely everything with zero filter kind of gal. And it didn't help that she still felt like she had to defend and justify her choices and actions from all comers, this time a male version of herself who'd been in love with Anders. She was secure in her choices and actions, really. Mostly. Except for when it came to mom and Bethy. They were givens that she'd never be okay with.
The two of them drunk? Together? The Prancing Pony would never recover and surely something somewhere would be set on fire. And maybe as a nod to both of their roots, some bandits would come in out of absolutely nowhere from the sky. That would be nice.
But no no no no no no no, no Conclave. There was Lila Trevelyan for Sarajane, maybe one of the Lavellans for him. They were the ones needed at the Conclave, not them, going to the Conclave was a really awesome way to guarantee a horrific death and Varric would feel like shit and who wanted to make Varric feel like shit?
Nobody, that was who.
"Maker's arse, I know! I was like. Totally interested? Until she sprung the whole Donnic thing on me and then! And then asked me--us--if we'd ever thought about her and us! I would have climbed her like a tree years ago if I ever thought it was an option!"
But, granted she'd also said that out loud back when she first saw Sebastian (defying Elthina (that old bat), showing off his archery skills, the way he said "murder") that she'd climb him like a tree. It wouldn't have been hard to do that, she was only 5'2". It was kind of a given that she'd be climbing people like they were trees.
And then she also said out loud that his voice could probably talk her into coming in half an hour or less and things got weird between her and all of her friends (except Fenris and Isabela) regarding her and Sebastian. And they never stopped being weird, even though she was fairly certain that by the time she arrived back in Starkhaven, she'd be able to send out save the date notices. Finally!
Maybe she'd ten of those notices to Varric. In her own penmanship, despite the seal of the Prince of Starkhaven. Varric'd have to open at least one of them out of sheer wagon-crash curiosity's sake. Especially since she was telling the son of a bitch--sorry, Varric's mother!--he was standing in for family and no, she wasn't accepting no as an option.
"And yes, we're both absolutely idiots, but it's okay. We can be idiots in our own ways together. Besides, it's part of our charm! Everyone loves our jokes! That's my story and I'm sticking to it!"
((OOC: now I kind of want an Anders, just so I can time Sarajane's movements and/or castings to the tune of Yakkity Sax. no, nothing more dignified would work and don't even start about Evanescence! :D ))
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For his friends, he was a bit of a pushover. He wondered if it was the same for her. She seemed just as loving given the way she talked about Sebastian. And she clearly had made the same friends he had. Who couldn't love that group of disasters? Alright, he had almost driven Isabela off with the whole sacred book thing but they'd managed to work out their differences. She had stood by him in the end.
"Who did you work for when you arrived in Kirkwall?" he asked, curious about the differences between them. What choices had she made? Had she prevented disasters that he caused? Not the biggest disaster, obviously, but there were choices Hawke could have made to make his life easier. He just... hadn't. "I chose Athenril. Smuggling seemed a safer way to hide my magic than being a mercenary. And it sounds like you brought Carver to the Deep Roads, which I did as well. And Anders because I'm shit at healing magic. Got somewhat better living with Anders but never seemed to master it."
Not like Anders who seemed to breathe healing and life and peace in his magic except when he was mad. Then he was vicious and knew exactly where to strike. It had been such a turn on for Hawke back when a large part of him was wrapped up in the mage underground and his reckless love of a dangerous man. It blinded him so much and there are parts he regrets but not much, not as much as he feels he should.
It's hard to regret love that carried him through the death of his mother and the terrors Meredith inflicted on the city. It's the blindness that he regrets. None of which he can changed here except with one of those Long Island things Sarajane keeps mentioning.
"You don't have to tell me your life story though. I don't care because Varric wrote the tale which is not completely accurate but it's still public. If we are similar enough I know there are things that you don't want to revisit." Ugly wounds that did not need to be poked and prodded because of curiosity. Painful memories and deep, scaring regrets. Hawke carried his fair share. She must as well. "Though I suppose telling you won't matter because you lived them as well."
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She also wasn't subtle with Seb, but he picked up on it right away. Probably because he'd been a whore once, too.
"And Aveline and Donnic, oh Maker, they're like. Ridiculous. So cute! I kinda wanna give them a group hug while telling them how ridiculously cute they are! But I value my life somewhat, so I haven't. But Aveline's definitely getting a huge hug for looking out for Carver for me. Us. Whether she likes it or not." She was always hugely affectionate with her friends. She'd sling an arm over Isabela's shoulder, tell Merrill how pretty she was, tell Fenris that he had to have an outside outlet for his anger other than killing every slaver they met, she'd buy him a night at the Blooming Rose so he could have some fun for once!
And Anders. She'd hugged him a lot. A lot a lot. He seemed in desperate need of hugs. And when he felt like opening up about his time in the Circle or how much he missed Ser Pounce-a-Lot or his time in the Wardens, she'd listen. She always listened to his concerns. Shared them, really. Only in the end, he seemed less and less willing to talk about things and no matter how hard she tried or what tactic she used, she couldn't get him to open up to her. And she'll always wonder, was the reason why he didn't say anything was because by that point, she and Seb were unofficially official? And hate herself forever for not trying harder to make it clear that she sympathized with and even shared his goals.
She'll never know. Why he stopped trusting her. Why he lied to her face repeatedly and made all of them unwitting accomplices to what he did to the Chantry. And the not knowing gnaws at her stomach like a particularly hungry rat.
One of those drinks was already dedicated to mourning the loss of Anders' friendship and trust. And to mourning the man himself. But she'd keep it quiet to keep things peaceful with herself and Garrett.
And she loved every single one of her friends. All any of them had to do was ask and she'd do anything to make their lives easier. Better. She'd taught Fenris to read (and had gotten the only real hug from him in response once everything fell into place), set up Aveline, helped Varric deal with the betrayal of and later loss of his brother, helped Merrill try to restore the Eluvian, and inspired Isabela to come back with the Tome of Koslun, just because they were friends. Because they had each other's back. She'd die a thousand times over if any one of them needed her to.
"The Mercenaries. I thought Carver would fit in better there and hey, I have a staff, but I could always claim that I was, um. Some kind of staff-fighter? Do other worlds have that? I dunno. But hey, bladed staff! Very useful. And I sure did. I wanted to show Carver that we were in all in this together. Turns out that all it did was pull us further apart. Which...sucked. But hey, at least he wasn't recruited for the Templars!" An itsy-bitsy tiny little mercy from whomever liked jerking her around. "And that was why I brought Anders, too. That and he'd been in the Deep Roads as a Warden, I figured he'd know what we might run into better than we would.
And I can't do healing magic to save my life. I can do all of the really scary shit, like Walking Bomb and Crushing Prison, but ask me to heal someone? Both they and I are shit outta luck. It's...cool that Anders was able to teach you some of it." And he may or may not catch on a wistful tone in her voice.
"And he sure did. I kinda wonder how he handled the romance bits 'cause he hates Seb and I love him. So that would be a--a--a conflict of interest!
...holy shit. You're right. Some wounds are best left to try and heal by themselves. Ripping off the bandage before its time doesn't do shit.
And, um. Despite our differences? I'm glad you're here. It's nice. To not have to verbal shorthand what we've been through. Though, you gotta tell me: which spells did you use against the Arishok? I thought that motherfucker would never die."
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"As I said, mercenaries could bring too much attention, especially if the company started to make a name for itself. That was my reasoning. I was very aware of how pro-Templar the city was." Even in the early days Hawke had seen and felt the Templar presence everywhere in Kirkwall. Athenril's secrets and hiding brought safety. Paying off authorities to look the other way also helped him feel fairly safe and protect his family from any trouble that would come from harboring an apostate mage. "Carver would never join the Templars! That would betray Bethany's memory!"
The idea had never occurred to Hawke. It was actually insulting that she'd think their own brother would betray Bethany and them like that. Carver had always protected their secret mage. He would never turn to the Templars. Never! He didn't bring Carver to the Deep Roads to keep an eye on him or anything like that.
He hadn't wanted to leave Carver behind he and his brother fought well together. They'd done it for a whole year. They made the perfect team to fight through the Deep Roads together. Sure, they also fought each other well but that was part of being siblings, wasn't it? They argued but at the end of the day they loved each other and had each other's back. Her relationship with Carver might be much different from his own.
Hawke held up his hand and a ball of fire sparked to life in his palm. He rolled it around his hand looking at the dancing flame with a fond smile, like he was reunited with an old friend. "Fire encourages people to keep their distance lest they get burned. It's also very hard to run after someone when the very weight of the world falls on their shoulders. I also simply threw myself towards him a few times and stabbed him while he struggled to move. Not a strategy I recommend. He almost cut me in half."
Snuffing out the flame he dragged his finger across his lower chest and stomach tracing the path the Arishok's axe cut through him towards the end of the fight. "I had about ten seconds to enjoy my victory and then I passed out. I woke up a week or so later with everyone fussing over me and the title Champion. Quite the pleasant surprise to wake up."
And then the hardest years of his life started. The year that no matter how hard he tried he could not keep Kirkwall together. Everything he did, every act of good and heroism didn't make a single difference. Meredith looming like a demonic presence over the city. The mages angrier and angrier. The people scared and simply trying to live. Hawke has done his best and it was all pointless.
"Well, you live with another mage you learn from them just because you're together a lot. And I wanted to share that with him. We both loved magic." Hawke lets out a heavy sigh but there looks to be a building in the distance. Hopefully the tavern she's mentioned and alcohol, blessed, sweet alcohol, to chase away lingering ghosts and old aches. "I'm sure you can recite parts of the Chanticles you never imagined you would thanks to Sebastian."
He is genuinely not trying to insult her. He's trying to... make peace. If they're somewhat similar she must ache and miss Sebastian like she's lost a limb. Hawke doesn't want to make it harder for her even if he personally thinks Sebastian is a bastard and deserves to be punched in his chiseled jaw three or four or more times.
"Even though our friends were there they don't really know what it was like to be Champion. The weight of it all. You, though, you know it. I know it. Makes it easier in some ways to talk about it." He shrugs his shoulders and looks down at her. Maker she's so damn short. "We're the only ones who can understand each other. Besides romantic choices, obviously."
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"Ehhh, maybe. But I was worried about what Carver might like more than I was about what might expose me. Probably because I didn't know how fucking insane Meredith and Cullen were at the time. I swear to the Maker, when I saw him with the Inquisition it was all I could do to not start yelling at him something about whether or not he still didn't see mages as people. 'Cause Lila's a mage, too."
"And that was a joke. Apparently not one of my better ones? But at least I didn't give Viscount Dumar shit when that crazy-ass bitch, Sister Petrice, arranged to have his son killed. I did tell him that he needed to be strong, but. I don't blame him for not feeling up to it at the time. Or, you know, at any point afterwards. Losing a child has to suck. Got a front-row seat about that with mom.
And, why did it have to be Bethy anyway? She was way better than me. She wouldn't have fucked up as many times or as in as many ways as I did, I'm pretty confident about that.
But that...must've been nice. Really. I mean that. Seb isn't freaked out about my magic--or anyone else's really. At the end, he said that we had to show the Chantry that the tyranny of the Kirkwall Templars couldn't be tolerated. Near exact quote, that. And he never backed down on wanting to marry me, despite who I am. And who his fellow Starkhaven nobles were afraid of. And he's okay with the idea of a mage child inheriting the throne after him. I know that...probably doesn't mean much to you. But it does to me."
And she genuinely laughs. "Far fewer than you might think! No, the Chantry is Seb's thing, the practicalities of helping mages within Starkhaven are mine. And again, he's fine with that. We're a team. Fuck with one of us, you get the other ready to kick the fucker's ass in less than five seconds."
And she does. Which is probably really fucking obvious. Seb never minded her dramatics, her sarcasm, even her extensive black eye make-up or lipstick. He saw to the truth of her, one even Sarajane was willing to obscure to others. But not Sebastian. He never failed to read her correctly, even when she was giving him come-ons like something out of a smutty book Isabela might have been locked away with.
And had she mentioned how much she fucking hated Sebastian's parents? And Elthina? For locking him up, for making him feel ashamed of himself, for making him veer too far in the opposite direction of whom he'd been as a teenager in an effort to fit in somewhere? She'd gladly go into greater detail about that if she thought she'd be understood.
And yes, she was pretty damned short. There was this thing she'd discovered back home and here, platform heels. Awesome inventions, those.
Sarajane grins at him. "No kidding. We couldn't be more opposite there. But...I get it. I get the appeal. Maybe...you could try to understand mine? If that's cool? Cool is local slang, it means good. Or understandable." She sounded hopeful.
But not too hopeful, she was entirely used to her friends laughing at her, not with her, when she started pursuing Sebastian seriously.
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Maybe once they were drunk they could turn into sobbing messes over the loss of various family members but Hawke did not talk about his mother. He had barely managed it with Anders and he loved that man more than himself. Sarajane was him, in a way, but that was a wound he did not want to open now. He did not want to touch on that particular failure, the one that haunted him worse than Kirkwall.
On and on she went about herself and Sebastian. Hawke did his best to be happy for her, really, but there was a fissure of resentment that he could not stop. He knew her life hadn't been easy. They had the same life. But her love stayed. She would, in time, get a good ending. She would have her Sebastian and the political power to help mages.
How could he not resent that just a little when he had imagined a future where he and Anders did the same from Kirkwall? How could he not feel just a touch bitter that she would eventually fix things and live happily ever after where he would probably spend the rest of his life alone? The less than heroic side of himself would not be silent, but he said nothing. After Kirkwall, he was much better at holding his tongue.
"Oh, I saw Sebastian's appeal the first time I talked to him," Hawke waved a hand towards his face. "Handsome. Voice like sin. I'd never heard a Starkhaven accent before that. That man does not lack appeal. I don't even mind much of his preaching, really."
But all that appeal vanished when Sebastian demanded Hawke kill the man he loved. Poof. Like a darkspawn set on fire. All he wanted now was a chance to beat the man's handsome face in. None of which he would say to her. She was in love and happy. Hawke would keep the anger and bitterness he felt on the inside to himself. He didn't want to ruin the joy she found. Andraste knew they needed any scrap of it they could find in their life.
"But we surrounded ourselves with very attractive friends, didn't we?" Again, he pushed the subject away from their different love lives. "They're all safe and well in your time? We haven't lost anyone else with all that Conclave, warden business you talk about?"
The more details he got about the future the better in Hawke's mind. The more he knew the more he could, hopefully, change. Of course, it was then his brain sort of caught up to something she had said earlier.
"Wait, Cullen?" He frowned at her, confused. "Cullen's part of the future? We meet him again?"
(CW: gross medical-related metaphor)
But, her--their--mother was never far from her thoughts. It seemed like at least six times a day, she'd blame herself for what happened, for not being smart enough, good enough, fast enough to save mother from that madman. Sarajane was absolutely positive that it was a wound which would never heal, merely scab over. A scab far too easily torn off, revealing a festering sore.
And she was mostly trying to convince herself that all would be well. Sebastian did his best to reassure her that it would be every time she had doubts, but a large part of Sarajane was convinced that eventually, she'd have to pull a Queen Mariane and vanish into parts unknown to ensure that Sebastian's rule went as smoothly as possible. Because, a large portion of Starkhaven nobility was having kittens over a mage as their princess-consort by itself, even more because it was her.
She had few friends left. Her pursuit of Sebastian had driven a wedge between herself and her friends, an even larger wedge after...Anders. The only one who got it even a little was Fenris and he was on the move so much, she couldn't even write to him and have someone to pour her regrets to. Everyone else...well. There was a reason why her letters to Varric were so sporadic and her letters to everyone else were non-existent. Because they didn't get it. Why she did what she did. Why she fell for whom she did.
She was exhausted of trying to defend herself, defend her choices, defend Sebastian from all comers. And this was like looking into an odd sort of mirror, but one who had made far different choices than she had about who to give their hearts to. And she desperately wanted someone to understand.
So she sang Sebastian's praises, hoping that maybe, just maybe he'd get it. She needed someone to.
It didn't help that if she ever encountered Anders in this strange place, anger would vanish under a wave of grief. Grieving his choices, grieving their friendship, grieving the man himself. Because she never let herself say it out loud, but she got it. Why he did what he did. But given how it had been like knife to the heart of the man she loved to lose his family all over again, despite her antipathy for Elthina herself, she wasn't really given a choice. Especially since it gave Meredith even more reason to kill every mage in Kirkwall. She knew that Meredith had already sent her request to annul the Kirkwall Circle to Val Royeaux. None of the Kirkwall mages were safe, not a one of them.
Damnit. If Anders had targeted the Templar barracks, everyone would have understood. Maybe not approve of, but understand. And no one would have had to die, other than the ones who already had.
"I know, right," she said with a cautious smile. "And...I can get why you'd fall for Anders. Seriously. Tall, handsome, funny. And trying so damned hard to do good whenever he could. Setting out milk for the cats. I remember him talking about how much he loved Ser Pounce-a-Lot." And her smile turned a touch sheepish. "I was trying to catch one of the cats at the market, an orange tabby, to give to him as a just because present to cheer him up a little. Towards...well, you know what towards, but he seemed so isolated. Hardly able to get into a conversation with anyone anymore. But those fucking cats are fast."
And should Sebastian arrive and Garrett tried, Sarajane would have no choice but to defend Sebastian. None at all. She was so very fucking sick of no choice, no choice, no choice. Especially since if Anders showed up, she'd spend about ten seconds being pissed off again, only for the grief to take over. She'd heard something about there apparently being steps for grief, one being bargaining. Sarajane felt perpetually stuck in that stage when it came to Anders. Why, why, why hadn't he chosen the barracks? If he had, none of what had happened would have happened.
"I, um...I think so? It wasn't safe for me to send them any letters except the occasional one to Varric," who hated Sebastian and didn't get why she and Sebastian were willing to risk so much for each other, "and a few to Carver," who also didn't like Sebastian. "And one to Aveline," who also didn't like Sebastian, "to ask her to get Carver somewhere safe." Because he was still her baby brother, all the family she had left.
Finally, a topic they could both complain about? "Sure do. He seemed just as self-righteous as always, still didn't bother to explain why he went along with Meredith's bullshit until the last possible minute. It must annoy him to not only have to serve a mage as the Inquisitor, but also to have the Inquisitor choose to ally herself with her fellow mages instead of the Templars. So there are mages, mages everywhere! It's kind of hilarious in a not at all hilarious way."
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If Anders had asked he would have brought the man Meredith's head on a platter. He would have done anything for Anders but that's exactly what Anders took advantage of. Hawke's desperate, all encompassing love. He had turned that into a weapon.
"He learned to appreciate my mabari. Never got used to how I let him sleep in the bed with us, but he learned to accept my Ferelden ways. I asked him if he wanted a kitten but he always said no." Hawke should have gotten him one anyway because it would make him happy. He liked to do things to make Anders - and his friends in general - happy. "A kitten would have been a better gift than the amulet I gave him. That was an awful gift on my part. Never did get better at it. Not sure why."
He nodded slightly. "Varric's keeping me informed of them as often as we can safely write each other. They're doing well, though Aveline is stressed."
Hawke thought about mentioning the rumors about a war between Starkhaven and Kirkwall but decided against it. What would that do but make her leap to defend Sebastian and make him look like he was trying to find petty ways to belittle the man? The war hadn't happened. It may not happen. It wasn't worth the trouble, really, to talk about it.
"But she's keeping things together. Varric too is doing his best in Kirkwall." Hawke shrugged his shoulders. "I'm probably not telling you anything you haven't already lived through though. Seeing as you're from the future. And my choices haven't changed much of the world's fate."
Cullen was a complicated topic. Hawke thought the Templar almost a fanatic but in that last year in Kirkwall he had seemed more... aware that the Order was falling apart and things were terribly wrong. He had hoped to eventually get Cullen on his side given how often they had crossed paths in Kirkwall. He had never gotten a chance though before things went wrong.
"And I'm sure you asked him in a very polite and reasonable manner," he said with a knowing smirk. "I look forward to trying to have that conversation myself. I've always wondered if I could get a Templar on my side what might that change. You know father had a close Templar friend. Seemed a useful thing to have if I could find a nice Templar."
He wanted to live up to the memory of his father and somewhat follow in his footsteps. It was an impossible memory to live up. Malcolm Hawke was... a once in a lifetime mage. Hawke knew he could never reach those heights but that hadn't stopped him from trying, from wanting to. Father would have certainly done better with Kirkwall and all that business.
"Working with mages will be a valuable lesson for old Curly." He couldn't imagine it but he did like the sound of it. "Might make him into a decent man. Almost like magic."
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Both of them. Simultaneously.
And if prompted, she would have gleefully cut down Meredith as though she were made of butter. That madwoman had done far too much harm to Kirkwall, so much that she was afraid it might never fully recover. Not until generation after generation had passed and they finally tore down that fucking statue of her wielding a motherfucking sword. There wouldn't be any true healing in Kirkwall until it was.
"I'm glad to hear that. And...what's yours' name? I named my Mabari 'Fluffy,' 'cause I thought it was funny. Fluffy the terrible, come to gnaw at people's delicate bits! And it depends on how cool the amulet was. But, yeah...a kitten would've been a good present. I should have tried harder, I don't know, maybe dangle a nice big fish for them to gnaw on? Something." Anything. Anything to settle Anders's mind. Fucking Marker, she hadn't really let herself miss him for the longest time, she's not sure how to deal with these emotions. Except try to do more bargaining with fate, knowing it was useless.
Hiding behind a smile and the reassurance that all would be well. Wasn't that what she always did? Even though it didn't work most of the time.
And her letters to and from Varric were always a bit strained. She knew why, but never felt like she could bring it up and keep it from turning into some kind of argument that she did not want to have with the only friend she had left.
She would feel like she had to defend him, but also wish she'd been there to talk some sense into him. That it was unfair to punish all of Kirkwall for Anders. That war could cost both Starkhaven and Kirkwall dearly. That if he'd learned any lesson during their travels together, it should've been that revenge rarely lasted and wasn't as satisfying as it sounded.
And the notion of asking Cullen in a polite and reasonable manner makes her release a bark of genuine laughter. "Oh Maker, no! No, he seemed to be determined to be anywhere in Skyhold where I wasn't. And, I always kinda wanted to spend more time with Ser Thrask. He was nice. Seemed to get the supposed point of Templars, unlike Meredith. I was so fucking angry when that bitch, Grace, killed him. And yeah...I remember. It was good to know where Carver got his name. That he was named after a good man, a good Templar."
Sarajane had mostly given up on the notion of measuring up to their dad. Their dad wouldn't have let Kirkwall turn into such a clusterfuck, she knew that much at least. She was trying to tell herself that she could make some small difference for people, at least for the mages of Starkhaven, but could it ever do enough to make amends for the ways she'd failed.
"It sure was. Or will be. But...let's both hope for that. Learning a lesson the hard way isn't fun but it's worth it. And you should meet Lila, she's. Well, I'm half-convinced she'll try flirting, she seems to do that with a lot of the people she talks to. Even tried it with me, which was both hilarious and adorable. But she's young. The world hasn't had its chance to break her yet, not fully. Give it time."
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And after sending Griffin away Hawke was truly, utterly alone in his journey across Thedas trying to fix the problems made by his lover's actions. His only connection to the wider world were the letters that Varric sent. Otherwise, he talked to himself when he bothered to talk at all. It was deeply lonely existence.
Not that he let any of that show, of course. Hawke put a smile on his face and grinned through the sadness. That was the only option, really. He had to keep going until all of it was fixed. Only then could he stop.
"Ser Thrask didn't need to be convinced to our side," Hawke felt compelled to point out. "He already believed something was wrong and wanted to help. Getting Meredith's second in command to our side? Oh, that would have rocked things, perhaps not as hard as what Anders did but it would have been quite the accomplishment for the mage underground."
It was still possible to get something of a win if Cullen did change sides and believe in mages and their right to freedom. That would be an incredible change, considering the Cullen he knew in Kirkwall.
"Oh, if she's anyone of importance with the weight of the world on her shoulders, it will. It will shatter her." Because that was what happened to heroes in Hawke's experience. They were destroyed by their own actions.
(CW: hint at suicidal ideation)