Fic: Captain and Queen (Anora/Isabela, 1000 words)
I don’t know if I’m going to be able to get something new completed for the Women of DA challenge *sob*, but I’ve cleaned this up sort of in its honour. Still one of my favourite AUs ever, and I’d really like to make a big fic out of it one day.
Eamon stands before her, and she would spit at him if she could.
It is Loghain’s blood that stops her. It thickens on the stones at her feet. Somehow, the idea of her own spit mingling with the air and the dust and the words that would follow is impossible to bear. They would call her hysterical. And her father would still be dead.
“Guards. Take her away.”
Expected orders, too easily given. Redcliffe men, reaching for her upper arms, while Eamon’s prize sheep shifts uncomfortably in Cailan’s armor and the painted figures of her childhood rustle and lean in, trying to see.
Anora meets Alistair’s eyes. They are scared. Determined. They are the wrong color, and skate away from her own.
He was stupid, not to kill her. Somehow, this final weakness makes it easier to leave.