The Breach is closed; the world is saved, but the Hero of Ferelden’s quest continues. The taint is killing her, there’s no way around it - you’re a Warden to your grave, every Warden knows that. But that doesn’t mean she’ll go to her grave willingly. Alone, perhaps, but no, never willingly.
Of course, she should have figured her husband would want a word in the matter.
The words fall
with damning conviction, leaving Elissa feeling as though all the air has been
sucked out of the room, and any hope that their request would be met with assistance
plummets to her stomach along with her heart.
But the elf only
straightens her shoulders, her hardened expression telling stories of far worse
insults, and then she’s turned her gaze from Alistair to Elissa. “You may call
me Fiona,” she says, in a way that could almost be called breezy – as though shrugging off the ire of the King of Ferelden
requires no more effort than dealing with a put-upon commoner, although there’s
still the lingering hint of sorrow in the tight press of her mouth.
Her eyes are
inquisitive as they take her in – keen, and curiously searching. “And you are
the fabled Hero of Ferelden,” she observes, and, “Your Majesty,” she adds, but
where Elissa expects mockery she finds none, only a solemn sort of deference.
And it’s been a
long time since she’s heard someone toss either of her titles around. “Elissa,”
she offers instead. “Please.”
Fiona says, an old wistfulness in her voice. “I have heard much of your
“All of them?”
Zevran quips, and Elissa almost smiles.
“I certainly hope
that’s not the case,” she offers, and makes to rise from the chair, but Fiona
only holds out a hand.
“Please, do not
rise for my sake. I can see you are wearied from your journey.”
She must know
that’s not what ails her – must recognise her sunken eyes, and her pallid,
almost mottled complexion. But if she’s pretending not to, Elissa can’t tell if
it’s because she’s being courteous, or simply because she does not wish to
broach the subject of the taint.
Of course, if that’s the case, it makes the reason they’re here a little awkward.
there is literally no way that Alistair doesn’t carry snacks w him at all times like y'all would be walking around fighting darkspawn and the warden or someone is like “shit man I’m kinda hungry” and alistair’s like “hold on man I got u” and pulls a thing of Pringles out of nowhere
Since the Dadquisition post is taking off, I feel like I should put in “Dad Age: Origins”
Oghren is “better at braiding hair than all the parents of your classmates combined, once successfully built a deck while shotgunning beers (how?!?), saw you through the worst of your anime phase and validated your interests and ended up watching anime himself,” Dad.
Sten is “responded with ‘Obviously’ when you came out to him, primarily expresses affection and concern via copious baking, gave you a single thumbs-up when you were in the school play and you never felt more proud in your life,” Dad.
Zevran is “sang to you a LOT when you were a baby and still kind of mindlessly sings when you’re in the same room, always says ‘who’s that? They were cute’ when he picks you up from school and sees you talking to someone, taught you to swim when you still didn’t have walking 100% down yet, slips between two different languages while lecturing you,” Dad.
Alistair is “kept falling asleep while reading to you and your siblings, accidentally calls you by your siblings’ (And occasionally the dog’s) names, cheers louder than anyone else at your softball games, ‘breakfast-for-dinner,’” Dad.