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Heart and Home Ch 8
The Gallows felt hollow. Vast empty spaces, occupied by ash and blood, charred stone and smoke. Fenris glanced up at the Tevinter statues and shuddered. "We need to move," he hissed. Varric nodded but didn't budge. Hawke was less cautious, striding forward fearlessly. "Wait!" Carver called out, cradling Merrill tightly. His sister turned, blue eyes wide. "What is it?" "I smell lyrium," he replied, looking around. "You can smell it?" the Dalish asked. Carver mumbled a vague reply, cheeks flushed. At least Riese let him catch up, Fenris thought.
Isabela shrugged, "Didn't think we would get out that easy, did you? I’d be more surprised not to see someone." Varric nodded, "Wouldn't make for much of a story." Merrill giggled softly, "No it wouldn't. And we all know Hawke is never boring." "Shut up," Fenris told her, stepping close to Riese. A clatter of boot
Maiden Fair Epilogue
The wedding the following day was the talk of Neverwinter for weeks after. The groom was splendid in a suit of gold and silver chased plate, looking every inch the towering knight. His lady, the lovely Pikala, and her 4 bridesmaids shone in the winter sun, gowns white and silver glistening like snow. If she was a bit pale, swaying like a branch in heavy wind, who could say? What bride wouldnt be, when marrying into such a prestigious family?
Strangely enough, a little white dog followed the bride down the aisle, connected to the wrist of a bridesmaid by a thin silver chain. It seemed to vanish at some point during the ceremony, and was not scene until the banquet hours later. Several guests complained of missing items, but those were returned by a laughing brother of the bride before the end of the celebrations.
A few days after the wedding Lemuil met with Darn, Zara, and Glory in his tailor shop. Darn took Lem aside, whispering t
Maiden Fair Logs
The story starts exactly where the intro left off, Zara and Darn at the Flagon listening to poor Pika and Lem
Zara glances at Darn and raises an eyebrow, "She sounds as bad off as that poor dwarf."
The man orders a glass of wine, not able to keep up with his sister as she drinks the vile Sundown
"And it sounds like she is willing to give something for ....whatever she wants..." Darn sizes the pair up wondering what they can offer
Zara stands up, "Let's see what we can do to help. Lathander never said good deeds had to go unrewarded."
"So should I be your paladin again?" Darn smirks
Zara grins, "I think you can just be your adorable self on this one." She walks over to the couple and taps the woman on the shoulder
Pika looks up with a tearstained face, eyes unfocused after several glasses of Sundown. "W-what do you want?"
Darn follows Zara looking at the red eyed woman "We noticed you crying, lady..." he looks at her as if he would feel sorry for her plight "..is th
Maiden FairA young woman with a tear stained face sits down at the Sunken Flagon bar. "Sundown, leave the bottle," she tells Sal, and begins to drink with steady determination. Her event is interrupted by a well dressed young man. "Pika, please stop," he begs, eyes tearing up. "Did you find the ring," she asks, setting down her 5th cup. The man shakes his head sadly. "Then leave me alone, Lem. I may as well die happy today." "We could get another . . . a copy or something," he argues. "In less than a day? Exactly like Meidron's? No, Lemuil, it's not possible. Just leave me be." She takes another long drink of the Sundown, turning away from the man. He frowns at her, "But . . . sis! We could put the wedding off, he never has to know!"
Pika pours another glass. "You know I can't put it off. I'd have to wait another year, and everyone is already in town. What would I say? No . . .
Petals and ThornsIsannon paced his room nervously. Clients never made him this anxious. He was a professional after all. He checked his mirror again, pushing a stubborn hair back into place, looking over his gleaming piercings. They shone brightly in the lamp light, freshly polished. He couldn't help but remember the way it felt when she'd touched them. He suppressed a shiver, calling himself fool. His studio was perfect, he'd put away most of his sketches leaving out only the ones he was most proud of. A divan sat beside the window, covered in a dark blue throw to accentuate pale skin and bright blue eyes . . . Isannon wondered if she would let him paint her.
The table held his inks and needles, as well as some chilled wine and a bottle of the finest cider he could find. "She's late," he said softly, looking toward the window. Maybe she wouldn't come. Isa forced himself to sit down, taking a deep breath. He needed to calm d
A Wolf TaleSnow lay in mounds, grey and brown and filthy. Torak growled, smelling man scent everywhere. Smelling like whiskey and piss, they would frighten all the game away, leave mighty Torak hunting field mice. He growled low in his throat, snuffling at the ground. Maybe he would hunt man tonight instead. Pack elders said no, Torak too young, Torak too bold. Hunting men was dangerous. If they saw you, they would come with shining teeth and fire . . . The wolf let out a long, unhappy howl. Distant replies from his pack echoed down the icy mountains. Torak would hunt no mice. No, he could take the men, rip out their throats, taste their blood.
He bounded down the hill, following the smell of them. Soon, the sounds of cart and human voices hit his ears, like the cawing of startled birds. They were never silent. Fools. Torak tracked them, watching, waiting. Soon, darkness came. The blossom of fire burne
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