Yavana, Dragon Age: The Silent Grove

To be a witch of the wilds is to understand many things: the chill of the damp green earth, deep in your blood, or the warmth of a dragon’s skin close beside you. Yavana, however, knows what her sisters do not: something that she and Flemeth, with all their many years between them, share.

She knows that all roads are one in the swamp, and all time’s streams can shift. A man can come to you one day and his son another. That to truly be a dragon is not to ignore time’s swift unspooling but to ride with it, as one does when one spreads great black wings in the wind, and see where it can take you.

The dwarf calls it her pet, dismissively, but Yavana calls her dragon teacher, mother and friend.

It is too much to expect a mortal to understand.

spicyshimmy:

dragon age: the silent grove #5. (and two good reasons to read it.) 

Oh Varric, you were waiting to use that line, weren’t you.

What I learned from Dragon Age: The Silent Grove #5 

missl0nelyhearts:

subitoallegra:

momochanners:

Isabela’s late husband was definitely not a nice man.

*waves Izzy flag*

Damn fucking straight.

ISABELA APPRECIATION BLOG <3333

GODDAMN I LOVE THAT WOMAN.

this issue just…Isabela’s face! she reacts with her whole body, to pain to insult…and she can because she’s fought so hard to OWN her own body, her mind, her decisions.

every time i think i can’t adore her any more…

<3

Isabela is the very very best! Everything I learn about her makes me love her more.

This is not the first stupid thing Varric has done for the sake of a story, and fate will most likely ensure it won’t be the last. Still, as Varric makes a mental note to mention that dragons smell terrible up close, he can’t help but wonder how it all went so horribly wrong. The narrator isn’t supposed to put himself in harm’s way.

(Characters have a way of changing as you write them: this goes double if that character is you.)

spicyshimmy:

dragon age: the silent grove #2. varric tethras continues to narrate his own life because there’s no one else to do it. 

Varric Tethras: physically incapable of shutting up.

Drabble: Gearing Up 

Varric wearing armour bothers me in ways I can’t begin to express :/

It’s been a long time since Varric buckled on armour. There’s not much call for it in Kirkwall- or at least, he likes to pretend that there isn’t. It’s easier to convince people you’re no threat when you don’t dress like one, after all. Plus, it’s so hard to make all that metal look stylish. You invariably end up looking like a pile of discarded scrap- paranoid, slow, and sweaty.

For some reason Aveline had never welcomed this opinion.

Varric mutters to himself discontentedly as he wrestles with the straps on his breastplate. Isabela, unable to watch any longer, drops to her knees beside him and places her hands over his: long, slim fingers buckling him in.

“This is a damned nuisance.” Varric complains. ‘There’s a reason I don’t dwell on the technical stuff, you know.”

This close, he can smell the metal and leather of Isabela’s armour: the scent of the wind lingering in her hair. “You could leave it behind.” she suggests, her voice right in his ear.

“And become Thedas’ most literate pincushion?” Varric snorts. “No thanks. Only idiots go up against the Crows with no protection.”

The breastplate finished, Isabela stands up. Varric swings his arms, getting used to the limits on his motion, the extra weight.

“I’ll just have to deal with this with my usual grace and poise.”

“Truly,” smirks Isabela, who hasn’t changed her outfit at all, “You are an example to all of us.”