So, with a terrible delay, I wrote a thing for @captainceranna. Guys, her Children of the Champions is one of the most interesting things we have in this fandom about a future after Inquisition! And, her amazing art make everything even more charming! Everytime I read and see something about this universe, I’m deeply happy. Thank you for letting me play with your OCs, I hope you’re going to like this, dear!
Laneda Rutherford X Kieran
first time Laneda kisses him, she has the advantage of the surprise.
And Kieran gently pushes her away, ignoring her frown and -that was
definetely harder - his desire to throw his supposed good sense
outside the windows and kiss her back, instead. Slowly. Deeper. “Why?”
the young woman inquires, crossing her arms in a way that reminds him her father,
as he had often seen Commander Cullen doing in Skyhold, years ago. “Because it’s wrong.” For her. For their mission to save the world. Kieran mouth twitches in a sour amusement. People has started to call their rundown group the Children of the Champions. And they truly are. A bunch of children determined to step away from their parents’ shadows. The children of the Hero of Ferelden, the Champion, the Inquisitor. Children barely aware of the implications of their mission. The nickname does not apply to him, the son of an unknown witch of the Wilds. He doubts he has ever been a child in the tradtional meaning of the word. But the others? They still are, even if they can’t see it, even if their ages tell him differently. They’re children who picked a path not fully understanding the implications and the dangers. If someone has told him he was going to join them, Kieran would have laughed.He had no wishes to be stuck babysitting them, but then Lea appeared, tousled, angry and willing to let her royal life behind. He wasn’t selfish enough to turn his back on his own sister. Well, a half sister who doesn’t even know they have the same father. But it doesn’t matter, as long she’s there, he will. How can he explain all of this to Laneda? Tell her that she - and all the others - weren’t supposed to be there, with him? That his mother has trained him for hunting and stopping the Dread Wolf alone? He’s a hunter, neither a companion or a hero. His world is different from hers. Darker. Colder. A place the sun doesn’t reach for kissing her golden curls. A place where her laughter risks to disappear. She deserves better. “I’m
too old, Laneda.”