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{Inkies} Nimue Lavellan, a warrior who is romancing Solas (hopefully I can handle the feels)


and Arthur Trevelyan, a baby face rouge who I'm going to romance Dorian with. 

{Chapter 4}Varia felt rather uneasy as she followed Jowan down the hallway.

A crow called menacingly at her as she passed by, but she chose to ignore it, since it didn't seem important. From the shadows, a crossbow clicked into position, and the assassin took aim.

He was acting very strange, and somehow she had a feeling that this situation he was in was something far more serious than just being worried about the fact that he hadn't been called yet to take his Harrowing.

-gasps for breath- ..>Four chapters in and the author still doesn't know how to use commas. Or show instead of tell.


The two of them passed a couple of templars along the way and she noticed him visibly stiffen when they walked by, even though they were two of the nicer ones and even uttered a friendly greeting upon their approach. Varia returned the sentiment to the two men – Ungar and Moran, she remembered Cullen saying their names were – and gave them an apologetic smile for her friend's cold behavior.

Given how much time the author's spent beating how the templars were Teh Evuls into our heads, Jowan's reaction to them is normal. She's gone above and beyond to show just how evil they are, and will continue to do so, but these two get a free pass for knowing Cullen? Author, at this point you can't have it both ways. Either every Templar in the Tower is Teh Evul (except Cullen because romance), or they're not.

"Before we go in," Jowan stated as he stopped just outside of the Circle's small chapel, turning to her and wringing his hands nervously in front of him, "I just want you to promise me you won't repeat a single word of what you are about to hear."

Jowan: “La-li-loo-lay-lo. La-li-loo-lay-lo.”

"Jowan, what is going on?" Varia asked him, reaching out to take his hands in her own in an attempt to calm their shaking.

"I just... Promise me," he requested once more, his fingers grasping at hers and squeezing them almost desperately.

“Almost” desperately? Given how much of a nervous wreck Jowan was during this part of the game, I'd day he was pretty desperate for some help. But this author has a thing for adjectives.

"I need help and you're the only person I can turn to, but I cannot tell you what's troubling me unless I have your word that you will breathe none of this to anyone else within these tower walls."

"You have my word," Varia swore, squeezing his hands back. "You know you can trust me with anything."

Pffffft. You're going to betray him the second someone doesn't do what you ask. You're about as trustworthy as the Grimleal.

"Good," Jowan said with a relieved sigh. He then released her hands and waved her along, continuing into the room and over to the corner farthest away from the door, where one of the Chantry sisters who looked over the chapel was praying.

I think we can piece together that a Chantry Sister might take care of an Andrastian chapel, author.

"I've brought her," he said to the young woman, who had dark auburn hair partially pulled back into a bun. The woman stood and turned to them, smiling at Varia and holding out a hand to Jowan, who took it in his own and joined her at her side.

Cuties ;u;

"Jowan... What's going on, here?" Varia asked once more, her gaze traveling back and forth between them.

I hear Jowan is just lovely this time of year for gazing tourists. On the other hand, Lily has very nice mountains...

The young woman blushed, casting her hazel eyes downward for a moment before looking to Jowan to explain the situation.

"A few months ago, I told you that I met a girl," Jowan informed her, then gestured to the girl at his side with his free hand. "This is Lily."

A much more endearing character than Varia, despite only being on screen for about twenty minutes.

"An initiate?" Varia blurted out, then looked around to make sure she hadn't been overheard before lowering her voice and continuing. "Jowan, that's forbidden!"

-cough-Hypocrite-cough-

"So you can see why we wish to keep it a secret," Lily said, her grip tightening on Jowan's hand at her side.

So Jowan's hand was... growing at her side? Eeeech.

"Lily's been given to the Chantry, and isn't allowed to have... relations with men," Jowan further explained. The two of them shared a look and Lily's cheeks turned a light shade of pink.

Jowan got some before Varia, and somehow I can only think about how much that amuses me. Considering that in a few paragraphs, she and Cullen are going to practically be dry humping, I'm surprised they haven't done to do. Buuuut it also could just be a weak plot point to keep Vari-Sue pure for her Twu Wuv Alistair.

Varia could only gape at the two of them.

Oh, damn it. Jowan needs to put another bit in the coin slot to start Vari-Sue up again.

How had they managed to keep something like that a secret from everyone? She hadn't even had the slightest idea that her best friend had been sneaking around with a Chantry girl, let alone bedding one.

The Sue didn't know the secret secret that Jowan went out of his way to keep secret? Heresy!

Then again, her mind had been preoccupied for over a year with how to keep her own indiscretions from being discovered by everyone else in the tower.

Oh, yeah, that's the only reason she didn't figure it out. And seriously? All you thought of for a year was how to keep yourself from creaming your panties at the thought of Cullen? That is incredibly telling about Vari-Sue, actually. Instead of helping Jowan with his magic, she was sneaking around with Cullen. She prioritized making out with her boyfriend, instead of helping her best friend with something she knew was frustrating him. It's not like there's any supplementary one-shots to argue these points, either. What is there is all Vari-Sue's Romantic Misadventures. Jowan has his own one shot, I believe, but it's just him gushing over Varia and lamenting his unrequited love and bla blah blah.

"I'm not going to tell anyone, Jowan. Your secret is safe with me," Varia repeated in a mere whisper, her voice carrying to them despite how quietly she was speaking.

They're not even two feet away from you, and you're facing them, of course they're going to hear your whisper. It's not like your on the other side of the chapel. All I can imagine is that stupid whispering they do in The Walking Dead when the characters are trying to be supr srs.

She owed him as much for not ever telling him of her own forbidden relationship.

Wait a second... I thought Vari-Sue's affair with Cullen was a well-guarded secret. How did Jowan find out? Author, the last chapter was primarily from Jowan's point of view. Just because he knows that Vari-Sue and Cullen shove their tongues down each other's throat, doesn't mean Vari-Sue knows that Jowan knows.

"Thank you," Lily replied, smiling gratefully at her.

"And that's why I'm so troubled," Jowan continued to explain the situation.

Well that change in subject was jarring and awkward. He's troubled because Varia's agreed to help him? He's troubled because Lily smiled? It doesn't hurt to put in some additional dialogue, you know.

"Well, part of it. See, I found out why I haven't been taken for my Harrowing yet: they're going to make me tranquil!"

DUN DUN DUN

"What?" Varia asked, her grey eyes blinking in surprise and her grip tightening on the new robes in her arms to keep her hands from trembling.

I think I should make a drinking game for all the times the author mentions that Varia's eyes are grey. Take two if she mentions how they have “flecks of silver” in them. Staaaaartiiiiing. Now.
Take a shot.

Surely that couldn't possibly be true. Jowan might not be the most skilled apprentice in Ferelden,

No, that would be Vari-Sue -gags-

but he certainly had potential and he always tried his best. He didn't pose any threat to others, either, so there was no actual justification for him to be robbed of his very dreams and emotions.

"It's true," Lily confirmed. "I saw the paperwork on Greagoir's desk yesterday."

"No," Varia denied the idea, shaking her head. "That's impossible. Surely, it's all just his idea. Irving would never agree to it."


I think it can be assumed that Greagoir and Irving both run the Tower. If Greagoir wants to make someone Tranquil, he has to discuss it with Irving before deciding, and they both have to come to an agreement.

"But he did agree to it," Lily corrected her. "The forms bore his seal upon them. He approved the Rite of Tranquility to be performed on Jowan."

"They're going to take away all that I am, Varia!" Jowan said, his voice strained with emotion. "My hopes, my dreams, my love for Lily, all gone!"

Could you maybe show us, instead of telling us, author? Describing body language is just as important as writing dialogue, since body movement is over seventy percent of communication. Show us how distressed Jowan is over this horrible ordeal that he's going through, instead of just copy pasting the game manuscript.

Varia just kept shaking her head,

So, what? She's just been shaking her head back and forth this entire exchange? That looks really dumb if you actually do it. And it hurts your neck.

in silent shock. The First Enchanter was a good man. He did everything in his power to protect the mages within the tower, even those who had not yet undergone their Harrowing.

Even though all we've seen him do is coddle Vari-Sue, and snark at Greagoir in between his game lines.

The last person who had been made tranquil had been done so over ten years ago – and that had been done at the apprentice's own request, because he hated himself for his magic due to his own family and friends casting him away as some abomination of the Maker's creation.

Not even Irving's most eloquent speech about the goodness of magic could turn him around.

No matter how many times Irving said that friendship was the true magic of the world, the apprentice would not hear it. He had yet to read the insanely popular children's books, Magical Little Ponies.

Now he worked with Owain in the storage facility. She couldn't imagine how horrible it would be to see Jowan there, every day, not even remembering the years of friendship they had shared or the love he had for the woman at his side.

"Why would they do this?" she wondered aloud. "Irving would never just agree to make you tranquil simply because Greagoir said so."


She's still stuck on the idea that this was entirely Greagoir's idea, huh?

"There's a rumor going around about me," Jowan told her. "People are saying I'm a blood mage."

Varia looked at him, remembering what Irving had said about someone in the tower practicing blood magic.

Ah yes, the magical plot convenience books that only served to clue Vari-Sue in on the rumors that someone was practicing Blood Magic. Because she has to know everything about what's going on at all times, otherwise she'll throw a tantrum.

It wasn't possible, though. Jowancouldn't be the one he had been speaking of. He knew the dangers of consorting with demons, and the punishment should he be discovered doing it. Surely he wasn't stupid enough to risk his very life. Then again, he had been growing increasingly desperate to prove himself in recent months so he could finally take his Harrowing.

If she noticed that he was growing desperate, why didn't she try and help him instead of sneaking off to make out with Cullen? Also, way to trust your “best friend”, Vari-Sue. You assume that because he's desperate, he'd make a contract with demons?

But, no... She would have known if her best friend was a blood mage.

How would she know? It's not like Blood Mages go around, “Hey, look what I can do!” stab themselves, then nearly kill someone with blood magic. It's something that was a very well-kept secret, even to the mages in the Circle.

She might have missed that he was sneaking around with an initiate of the Chantry, but blood magic was much harder to hide.

Apparently the author does think that Blood Mages show off their forbidden arts all willy-nilly. If that's the case, Uldred never would have succeeded in his hostile take over of the Tower, since everyone would have known he was a Blood Mage beforehand!

Still, she had to hear it from him.

"Are you a blood mage?" she asked, holding his gaze steadily with her own.

Put that gaze down right now, you have no idea where it's been.

"Of course not!" Jowan answered without missing a beat. "Look, I've been sneaking around at night to meet Lily, and someone must have seen me and thought I was doing something forbidden. Which, granted, I was –

Bow-chica-bow-wow~

but it wasn't blood magic, I swear!"

"I believe you," Varia told him, nodding.

That pointless aside, brought to you by ParisWriter.

"Thank you," Jowan said, breathing a sigh of relief, "but it's still not safe for me here anymore. I need to get away from the tower."

"That's where you come in," Lily added. "We need your help to destroy Jowan's phylactery so that we can escape and make a life together, somewhere far away from here."

Varia's large grey eyes

Take a shot.
"Grey eye" count: 2

went even wider

Pfft. I'm just imagining her with those ridiculously sized desu-anime eyes.
From the way this is worded, it makes it sound like she's just been staring at them with big, creepy bug eyes. Which further reminds me about Iron Bull's comment about the elf Inquisitor's “Big, creepy elf eyes.”

when she heard Lily describe what they were planning to do.

It involved a goat, a bottle of Antivan brandy, a Chantry sister, and every sousaphone player in Nevarra.

As if the two of them being together wasn't already dangerous enough, they wanted to run away from the tower, as well. And, apparently, they also wanted her to help them do It.

There's nothing “apparent” about them wanting your help. What, do you think Jowan told you all this just for shits and giggles? He deliberately sought you out for help, and you agreed to it. Once again, Vari-Sue's as dull as a rock.

"Is that even possible?" she asked, weighing the dangers of what they were asking her to help them accomplish in her mind.

It's not like escaping the Tower is impossible, just incredibly difficult. Vari-Sue has mentioned Anders in passing, so why is she suddenly thinking that escape is impossible?
Then again, she's thinking about how dangerous this plan is in regards to her, and how it will affect her.

Bitch.

Unlike Jowan, she had already taken her Harrowing and, therefore, couldn't be made tranquil by Chantry law. So if they were to be caught, the only possible outcomes for her would be to be placed in solitary confinement for a very long time – which she knew from everything Anders had said about it wasn't any fun at all – or death.

Or Aeonar, that's an option too. But at least Vari-Sue doesn't expect that she'll just get a slap on the wrist for this.

They were probably banking on her having extra immunity to harsh punishments due to being the First Enchanter's apprentice,

Because that's the life of a Mary-Sue, and Irving totally doesn't play favorites when it comes to her.

but Varia doubted even that could help improve her standing when it came to defending herself after committing such a serious crime against the Chantry's laws regarding mages in the Circle.

Silly girl, Sues are never punished for their crimes!

"It's absolutely possible," Lily assured her. "And we have devised a plan that we can easily carry out with your help, now that you are a fully-fledged mage within the Circle."

"You're asking me to put a lot on the line, here," she told Lily before turning her eyes toward Jowan once more. "You know what will happen to me if we're caught, right?"

-Spit take-

A-asking YOU to put a lot on the line?! What will happen to YOU?! -sputters- Listen here, you arrogant, pompous, passive aggressive, selfish little shit. Jowan and Lily are risking more with this plan than you ever would. Jowan is going to be an apostate for the rest of his life, constantly on the run from templars and fearing for his life. He will never be able to go back to the place he calls home; ever. Going back to the Tower would be a death sentence for him. YOU, on the other hand, would get a slap on the wrist in comparison. And yet you have the GALL to say that you're putting a lot on the line, implying that you're risking more than he is?!

^{FUCK YOU!!!}


"I know," Jowan said quietly, unable to meet her eyes. "And I'm sorry I have to ask so much of you, but you're the only person I can trust and I need you right now."

Varia sighed, glancing at Lily once more before looking back to her best friend. For thirteen years, they had been together at the tower. He had been the only apprentice who didn't make fun of her and call her names when Irving finally placed her with the rest of them two weeks after she first arrived at the tower.


Oh no, two whole weeks! It's like there's a preliminary process to go through, or something!

He had protected her from the bullies, stood up for her, comforted her when she used to hide in corners and cry because of the children being mean to her because she was the only elf.

-Pours a generous amount of chocolate liqueur into some hot chocolate- Author, do you honestly expect me to believe that Vari-Sue is the only elven apprentice in all of Ferelden? The only child who was taken away from the Alienage, or who knows where else? -growls and makes another mark on the Mary-Sue Bingo Board- We get it, okay? Varia is the most speshul magic snowflake who ever drifted down from heaven, stop reminding us!

In fact, canon comes along a bites her in the ass. I recently went through the mage origin again, and I counted at least five elven apprentices in the tower. Not only that, but you can have a conversation with an elf mage, Eadric, in the Tower's library. She even mentions him by name! One of the Maker damned Senior Enchanters is clearly an elf! YOU FAIL!!

He had sat with her on many sleepless nights after two of the templars tried to assault her,

PEDO-TOUCH. Also, we are once again reminded that Vari-Sue was sexually assaulted. I am too tired of it to be angry anymore. And yet does this stop her from making out with Cullen? No. Does this stop her from wearing a revealing outfit later? Hell no!
It's like this author just wanted the drama of Vari-Sue being sexually assaulted, all the Maker damned time apparently, and didn't want to go through the trouble of writing about the psychological ramifications!

It's especially insulting, to me, because I had a friend in high school who was raped. Did she walk around in short skirts and stockings? Of course not! She was a quiet girl who sat in the back and always wore jeans and long sleeves so she wouldn't be noticed that easily!
^{YOU! FAIL! MISERABLY!!}

and though he had protested at first about her growing friendship with Cullen following the incident he had never once come right out and told her not to be friends with her personal savior.

She had even been in love with him, once – though it was probably more of a crush than actual love – but he hadn't noticed the hints she had been dropping about her feelings for him. Or had he?

-eye twitch- I hate it when authors put this aspect in their mage stories. I, personally, never thought that the mage would see Jowan as anything more than an older brother, and imprint on him accordingly. It reminds me of my best friend and I; we've been friends for about ten years now, and after five I started thinking of him as an older brother, and nothing else. You wouldn't fall in love with your big brother figure, would you?

"Jowan, why didn't we ever..." she asked before she could stop herself, letting the question hang between them, knowing he could easily fill in the blanks on his own.

And there it is! Why would she even wonder about this, if she has Cullen? Why bring it up now, in front of the girl Jowan plans to run off and elope with? Did she wonder about a romance with Jowan while she was with Cullen? If so, Varia? That is all kinds of messed up.

His dark blue eyes immediately snapped up from the floor and met hers, his mouth opening and closing slightly though no sound was coming forth from his lips.

"Yes, why didn't you, Jowan?" Lily asked in a teasing voice, crossing her arms over her chest and smirking at him. "You're always talking about her."

And Lily goes along with it! She's asking, in a half joking manner, why Jowan -her betrothed- never perused a romance with Varia! Because apparently talking about your best female friend in high regards means you want to bone her. I guess I should stop talking about how good roleplayers my friends are, since it will give the impression that I want to sleep with them one day. I guess I should stop saying nice things about my best friend, Willy, because that means I want to jump into bed with him. This is so dumb!

Jowan looked at his lover, still gaping in shock, then slowly turned back to Varia and shook his head a bit in apparent disbelief at what he was hearing before answering.

"It never crossed my mind. You're like a sister to me!" he told her, then paused for a moment before adding, "You don't... like me as something more than a friend, do you?"

"Well, maybe," Varia admitted, looking away from him shyly and blushing. "A little."

Bringing this up in front of Lily just seems incredibly callous. It's her saying, “oh, you have Lily? She's okay, I guess, but did you know that I might be in love with you?” She's dangling the apple in front of Jowan's face and daring him to take a bite of it; it's disgusting. You're sick in the head, Varia.

"I see," he said after a short pause to let her admission sink in fully. "Why bring it up now, especially with... you know, things. And Lily. I... love her, and... You know, I'm just going to drop this."

Varia smiled a bit, slightly amused at how uncomfortable Jowan suddenly looked,

Messing with someone's heart like this isn't something you should be smiling about, you harlot!! WHAT THE HOLY FLAMING FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!

then turned back to Lily.

"Tell me what you need me to do," she said to the other woman, who blinked at her in surprise.

"You mean, you'll help us?" she asked, her voice full of surprise. Varia guessed she hadn't been very hopeful that a newly-minted mage would be so willing to put everything on the line for the sake of a mere apprentice and an initiate of the Chantry.

I am so angry, I can't even think of something to say in response to Lily thinking Vari-Sue is putting more on the line than she and Jowan are.

"Of course, I'll help," Varia told her with a smile. "I'll miss Jowan, of course, but I want him to be happy and I certainly don't want to have to see him every day as a tranquil mage, knowing that I could have helped prevent it from happening."

"Oh, thank you!" Lily exclaimed, tightly grasping both of her hands. "The Maker has surely blessed us both by sending you to help."

Yeah, “sent.” Jowan went out and found her, Vari-Sue would be blissfully ignorant if he hadn't otherwise. Probably made out with Jowullen in the mean time.

"So, what is it you have planned?" Varia asked once more, getting a bit antsy. They were still alone in the chapel, but at any moment someone else could walk in on the three of them and discover their conspiracy.

If time is of the essence, then wasting time with that pointless aside about how Vari-Sue might be in love with Jowan was completely pointless, and served nothing more than to amuse her. I hate her so much.

"I can easily get us into the repository," Lily told her. "However, there is a problem. You see, the phylacteries lie behind a door sealed by two locks. The First Enchanter and Knight-Commander each hold one key. It is merely a door, though. What is a door to a mage, especially one with your power?"

-drums her fingers against the desk- Author, listen closely. Additional dialogue in these kinds of stories should serve two purposes. One: Put more detail into a situation, based on how the writer perceives it or thinks it could be made better. Two: Giving a little more depth to a character who was, otherwise, rather flat. Having Lily praise Vari-Sue's power does neither. It's just you wanking over how great and powerful and wonderful you think she is. Stop it.

"I see you weren't joking about Jowan talking about me," Varia remarked with a small smile, looking over at Jowan.

Humility, thy name is not Varia.

Her smile fell when she saw a rather distraught look on his face. She almost asked him what was wrong, but figured he was just nervous about whether or not their plan would succeed.

Oh gee, Varia, maybe he's distraught because you just told him that you might be in love with him! You played his heart like a violin, and are too dense to consider that he might be a little distressed or confused by this sudden revelation?! Either you're a sociopath, or you have the attention span of a bean. Probably both.

She forced her smile back into place and returned her attention to Lily, who continued explaining their plan to her.

"As you have probably already surmised, there is no possible way for us to get our hands on both keys. Jowan said he once saw a rod of fire melt through a lock, so we were hoping you might be able to go to the stockroom and retrieve one. Jowan can't do it because he is still an apprentice, and I obviously wouldn't have reason to be asking for such an item."

"Why go to all of this trouble at all, though?" Varia asked.

“This sounds like too much work, waaaaaaahhhhh.”

"We should just go to the First Enchanter and explain the situation to him. Once he sees that Jowan really isn't a blood mage, he's sure to call off the Rite of Tranquility."

How does she plan on doing this? Parading Jowan in front of the First Enchanter and going “He's not a blood mage, ta-daaaaaaa~” and then Irving will be convinced due to Vari-Sue's Sue powers? Lily explained that Irving approved that Jowan should be made Tranquil, what does she think bringing Jowan to him will do?

"If only it were that simple," Lily answered with a faint smile.

Why is she smiling?

"The templars, as you no doubt know, are in charge of all the mages here. They might order the Rite be performed on him just as easily for seducing an initiate the the Chantry as they have for their suspicions of him being a blood mage. And the First Enchanter needs to keep the peace between the mages and the templars. Bringing this to his attention would do nothing but invite more trouble."

Why is it that everyone in this story except for Vari-Sue has actually made good, justifiable points? Isn't she supposed to be this “logical thinker”? I've yet to see her come up with any sort of good or helpful idea that can't be shot down in two seconds.

Varia sighed and nodded her head, closing her eyes briefly for a moment to collect her thoughts. This was going to be dangerous, and Lily was right – Irving had to keep the peace between the Chantry and the Circle. If she was caught helping the two of them, he would have no choice but to agree with whatever punishment Greagoir decided to hand down to her.

And once again, all Vari-Sue really cares about is what will happen to her if this plan goes south. She isn't worried about her best friend or his lover at all, the first thing on her list is making sure that nothing bad happens to her. And the author really wants us to believe such a selfish little brat is Alistair's soul mate.

Even if... No. That would surely kill him to do, and he was like a father to her. She could never cause him that sort of pain.

There was only one option: to not get caught.

"I'll do it," she finally said, reaching out to take one of Lily's hands in her own. "I will do everything in my power to help you two find happiness together, but it might not be a very quick retrieval. After all, I have to make sure I do this in a way that will prevent me from drawing any suspicion upon myself. You understand, yes?"

“I need to make sure that nothing bad happens to me before I even consider helping you two peons.”

"Of course," Lily agreed. "Neither of us want you to end up in prison – or worse – simply for trying to help us.

YOU TWO ARE IN MUCH MORE DANGER THAN VARI-SUE, SHUT UP ABOUT HER!

Take whatever steps are necessary to make sure your tracks are covered, but please do so in as timely a manner as possible. The templars could come for Jowan as soon as this evening."

"I'll do my best," Varia promised. "You two should stay here, for now. Try to keep out of sight in case someone else comes by to pray, so you won't have to explain what you're doing here together."

"Oh, don't worry," Lily assured her with a sly grin. "Jowan and I have gotten quite good at laying low in recent months."

Laying low in bed.
Hah...hah...haaaaaaaaah

Varia couldn't help but return the other woman's smile, thinking how she probably would have had a very similar response to that request if their roles had been reversed. She bade both of them goodbye, hesitating for a moment when only Lily replied, and discretely left the chapel. She began to walk toward the stockroom, then realized she was still holding the robes Irving had given her in her arms.

So just go to the stockroom anyway, those robes aren't going to stop anything, unless Owain has a thing against fine tailoring. But then we wouldn't have an excuse to run into Cullen.

Sighing a bit to herself, she turned around and followed the circular hallway in the opposite direction, toward the mages' quarters where she would now be staying so that she could deposit her new belongings with the rest of her things that had been brought upstairs for her.

-Rubs head- Dear Maker, that was a mess to read. Periods! And! Commas!

She took each step slowly, fussing with the hem on the skirt of the garment and wondering if they had thought to have it shortened and taken in to better fit her smaller elven frame.

And now we must stop and note how small and delicate our little Vari-Sue is. Bite me, Author. Elea is an elf, too, but I don't constantly point out how small she is. As a matter of fact, I lined my elf up with Alistair for a comparison. A head taller than she is and, naturally wider. I lined her up with Leliana; she is only a bit taller, and a smidge wider. The elves of Dragon Age are lithe, but that doesn't make them so small and petite that human clothes would be way too big for them.

Then again, the laws of Sue Beauty dictate that females must be small and delicate. Blegh.

Really, though, she was trying to think of anything but how much of a hypocrite she had just been. The first thing that had come out of her mouth when Jowan revealed his relationship with Lily had been to point out how forbidden it was, when she herself was romantically involved with a templar. Truth be told, however, she couldn't really say which of them was committing the bigger sin.

For the crimes of irredeemable Suedom, I think Varia has committed the greater sin.

Yes, the templars were meant to watch over the mages and keep them in line without question, but Lily was an initiate in the Chantry. Girls like her were meant to be pure and untouched, and they took vows of chastity – vows which Jowan freely admitted he and Lily had already broken.

Pfft, and the templars don't? I think everyone who's chosen to live for the Chantry have taken vows of chastity.

At least she and Cullen had yet to take their relationship that far. Not that neither of them wanted to... the right situation to do so simply had yet to present itself for them.

Of course Vari-Sue and Cullen haven't had sex yet, because it would be unpure and not as speshul if they did it before the “perfect” time. And so she and Cullen can have one up on Jowan and Lily.

The sound of metal gently clanking against the hard stone floor of the hallway caught her attention and Varia looked up to see her love standing just outside the door of the rooms she would now be occupying.

The "rooms" she would be occupying? Aha, no. No. The senior mages all get one room each, there is no additional rooms for them. Bah, who am I kidding? Irving probably kicked someone out to make room for Vari-Sue.

She momentarily stopped in her tracks and simply watched him as he continued to fidget nervously, staring down at his gauntlet-covered hands, then called out to him. Cullen looked in her direction at the sound of his voice, his green eyes fixing upon her face, and he smiled shyly as a blush crept across his cheeks.

Get out of this story as soon as possible, Cullen, I beg you. There are better elf girls, I promise. Lavellan players are all over you!

"Cullen? What are you doing here?" she asked as she approached him, keeping her tone light and conversational.

As opposed to loud and assertive.

"I... I wanted to make sure you were alright," Cullen told her. "Th-They picked me as the templar to strike the killing blow if... if you became an abomination."

Varia could hear the sorrow in his voice when he told her what task had been assigned to him the previous night, and she couldn't help but reach out to him and place her hand gently upon his armored shoulder.

"Would you really have struck me down?" she asked him, her thumb just barely grazing against the side of his neck before she let her hand glide down the rest of his arm.


"I would have had no choice," Cullen said, his voice full of quiet sorrow.

How is sorrow quiet? For the love of Andraste, Author, just say “his voice sorrowful”, without the additional adjectives.

His gaze fell briefly upon her lips before he raised his eyes once more to meet hers.

“You have a massive coldsore on your lip. I thought you'd like to know.”

"I serve the Maker, and I will do as I am commanded."

"Then I suppose it's a good thing that I am so talented and brave, isn't it?"

Could you possibly be any more arrogant?

she asked him, her lips turning up in a smirk as she quoted the things Miranda had overheard him saying about her.

I am getting so tired of this bitch smirking all the time.
In fact, new drinking game tally; every time Varia smirks, take a shot. Take two if it's a smirk at someone's expense.
"She smirked" count: 1

"Did Jowan tell you I said that?" he asked her in reply, the color of his cheeks darkening once more.

"No, he didn't. Apparently, you made enough of a show carrying me back to my bed the way you did to get the gossips talking, though."

There were flowers and glitter and confetti and little paper hearts, I heard it took forever for the Tranquils to clean up after.

"I... I'm sorry," he apologized, making sure to keep his voice low so no one would overhear what they were discussing. "I just needed to hold you,

Keep it in your codpiece, Cullen. In your codpiece.

and... and I volunteered to take you back to your dormitory without thinking."

"It's fine, love," she told him, her voice just as quiet as his. "You don't happen to have a moment to spare right now, do you?"

Ummm... Varia? Aren't you supposed to be helping your friend? It's kind of important, the templars could collect him at any moment...

"I really should be getting back to my duties," Cullen insisted, casting a look down the hallway in the direction she had just come from. "As I said, I simply wanted to check on you and see how you were faring."

"Please?" Varia requested, leaning a bit closer to whisper into his ear. "I promise to only take a moment of your time, Ser Knight."

I mean, time is of the essence here, and the sooner you escape the sooner you can cover your tracks. You're burning daylight here with this... whatever it is. That, and the other templars are probably going to wonder where Cullen wandered off too. Greagoir will have his head if he ever found out you abandoned your duty to fraternize with a mage...

She took a step back and smiled at him, then walked casually into her new quarters. Cullen hesitated a moment behind her, looking around carefully to make sure no one was around to see him, before following her into the room. He watched her as she set down the robes she had been carrying on top of her trunk and removed her staff from her back to lean against the wall, and then she turned to him and all sense of propriety went out the window.

This is the worst seduction scene I've ever read in my life, holy fuck. Why is it now that she remembers commas exist?

They moved toward each other at the same time, her arms wrapping around his neck even as his encircled her small waist, their mouths finding one another with a practiced ease.

-flails- Cullen! She's seventeen! BAD TOUCH, CULLEN, BAD TOUCH!

It wasn't the sort of gentle kissing they usually engaged in with one another during their stolen moments behind large bookcases and in dark alcoves, but a passionate warring of lips and teeth and tongues

Eeeeewww! -covers her eyes- Ew ew ew ew!!

as they each relished in the taste of one another they had both feared they would never experience again.

Vari-Sue wasn't afraid of her Harrowing at all. Don't pull that bullshit, Author.

Varia's hands moved up along the back of his neck, her fingers dancing delicious torment down his spine as they gently caressed his skin before threading into his dark blonde curls,

Did I start sporking a Harlequin romance novel by mistake? This is ridiculously purple.

and Cullen responded in kind by tracing the outline of her body with his hands.
You know what's making this tolerable? Reading this section in the voice of Manwithoutabody. Just imagine, "tracing the outline of her BAWD-EH!" Way more fun that way.


She felt his hands grip her tighter, pulling her to him possessively, and let out a small moan which came out more like a whimper of frustration. The sexual tension had been building between them for months, and she had already passed her breaking point long ago. They had needed to be careful, before, but now that her new living quarters afforded them more privacy

You realize that the senior mage's quarters had no doors, right? And that each room only had a single wall separating one from the other? You weren't given a hotel room, you were given a bigger space to yourself. The other three mages in that area probably don't appreciate your make-out session. Even if you want to imagine there were doors there, there was no mention of Cullen closing it. They literally just walked in and started kissing, and judging from the writing it's the loud type of kissing.

she hoped that perhaps they would soon finally be able to be rid of the thick plate armor which had always helped keep them in check so as not to allow their passions for one another to be taken too far.

Because the sound of heavy plate armor falling onto a stone floor isn't going to alert anyone within hearing range. Also, once again that sentence was a mess. It should have been two, at least. And have, oh I dunno, COMMAS!

Cullen was the first to pull away from the kiss, though his lips remained close to her own, and their breath mingled as they each fought to regain air in their lungs and control over their bodies' urges.

He continued to lay soft kisses upon her full, swollen lips,

Gross.
Also, what seventeen year old has “full lips”?

his eyes closed and his grip tightening on her waist as though he was afraid she was nothing more than a dream and if he woke up she would be gone.

"I'm so glad you didn't fail your Harrowing," he told her once he had finally caught his breath, his voice deep and husky with lust,

Nothing gets Cullen Rutherford up like the thought of his girlfriend not becoming an unholy abomination.

I'm so sorry.

though she could imagine the painful images he was conjuring up in his mind at that very moment. "It would have killed me if I had to..."

His voice broke, unable to form the rest of the words, and Varia kissed him softly as a small laugh escaped her throat despite the seriousness of his statement.

"Are you saying you have no faith in my abilities?" she asked him, aware that he – like everyone else in the tower – knew full well that she was one of the most powerful mages currently living within the tower.

I, on the other hand, find nothing more irritating than some arrogant little brat laughing off the legitimate concerns of her lover. I'll ask again: If she's so powerful, why isn't she just Senior Enchanter the second she finished her Harrowing? Also, having “tower” twice in as many sentences is bad form. For shame, Author.

"I was still scared," Cullen admitted, opening his eyes but unable to look at her face.

What's he looking at then? Actually, don't answer that.

"It's a dangerous test. Even if you came out of it alive... Some mages are just never the same after what they see in there. I'm glad you're still my Varia."

He reached up to caress her cheek with one of his hands, finally looking into her grey eyes once more,

Take a shot!
"Grey eyes" count: 3

and became transfixed by the way the flecks of silver in her irises reflected the light from the torch on the nearby wall.

-Disgusted noise- Two more drinks, everybody.
"Grey eyes" count(+silver bonus): 5

A question: The lighter the eyes are, the more likely they'll reflect the color of the light around them, yes? My brother has hazel eyes, but they look anywhere between brown and green when he's inside. By that logic, Vari-Sue's eyes should be a shade of brown or such, yes?
...Fuck it. This author just wants another way to show that her precious Sue is just the most magnificent person ever.

It was one of the very first things he had noticed about her when he came to the tower: how beautiful her eyes were and how the light reflected in them.

The look of love is iiiinnn your eeeeeyyyeeeeessss.

It would have devastated him to never be able to look into those eyes again.

Alistair thinks almost the exact same thing in the chapter where we meet him. I'm not even joking. I guess the author just forgot.

"You haven't exactly made me 'yours,' just yet," she corrected, moving closer to him once again. She leaned up to nip at his jaw with her teeth, her lips curving into a smile against his skin.

So, according to this author, the only way two people can “belong” to one another is if they have sex. I know this is an actual way of thinking, but it doesn't stop me from hating it.


"Though that might soon change," she added in a whisper.

Your best friend is in mortal peril! Change your panties and get to helping him!
Why did she even instigate this make out session? So the author could show off how madly in love these two were, by having them shove their tongues down their throats? Because Vari-Sue creamed her panties at the sight of Cullen and needed some relief? I don't get it!
If you want some sexual activities, give him a hand job, masturbate, and then be done with it!

Cullen closed his eyes and groaned, his head swimming with images of the sinful things those five simple words promised.

They involved hot wax and a intricate style of tying knots used by the Qunari when they want to get especially raunchy. Iron Bull could probably tell you all about it. -tongue click-

Varia knew he wanted it as much as she did, even if he had never verbally expressed his desire to bed her. The way he looked at her and held her and kissed her were more than enough to give away his desires.

"I should go,"

Commander Shepherd, is that you? Please save me from this story.

he said, pulling away from her reluctantly. Varia simply nodded, though she grasped his hand and held fast to it until he completely backed away from her.

You know, I like gestures like this. They're sweet, touching moments that show how much the couple doesn't want to leave each other. However, it's supposed to be used by a couple who don't think they'll ever see again. It's that last, lingering touch before something pulls them apart forever. Cullen and Vari-Sue can see each other any time they want, so it kind of ruins the gesture.


Once out of her reach, he stared at her longingly for moment before finally turning away and walking out of the room to resume his duties.

Yeah. “duties”. -ahem- More like going to his bunk, am I right? Ahh? Aaaaaaaaah?

Varia sighed heavily as he faded from her doorway and went over to her new bed, allowing herself to fall backward onto the soft, downy mattress. Her mind began running through the events of her day so far. She had awakened from her successful Harrowing, been declared a full mage of the Circle, met a Grey Warden, learned her best friend was about to be made tranquil on a false suspicion of him being a blood mage,

And you decided to put helping him on hold so you could give Cullen a hard-on for the rest of the day. For no reason by the way. Yaaaaaay. Go you. Wooooo.

discovered he was also in a forbidden relationship with a Chantry girl, agreed to conspire with him and his lover to help them both escape the tower, and promised herself to the man she loved... and it wasn't even midday, yet.

So that's it? She and Cullen practically jizz in their pants in all their supposed sexual tension, and that's the pay off? Vari-Sue, not hot and bothered in the slightest, just lays down on the bed and reflects about what kind of crazy day she's had? This story changes tone and subjects so fast, I'm surprised I've yet to get whiplash from it.

As she let her eyes fall closed to allow herself to rest for a minute and gather herself before she went back out to begin her part of the plan to free Jowan from the templars' hold on him, she wondered what else the day had yet in store for her.

I sincerely hope she remembered to change her panties before she left, otherwise that will get very uncomfortable. And smelly.

{Chapter 3}Alright, chapter 3. Let's just get this over with.
Ladies, gents, and everyone between, let's rock.

Jowan stared blankly at the page before him, trying his best to concentrate on the words of the tome but failing miserably.

I love Jowan so much, you guys don't even know. I'd romance the hell out of him if I could, since he deserves a happy ending. I'm happy to say that he remains uncorrupted, for the most part.

His stomach was churning itself into dozens of knots, just as it often did anymore during his waking hours,

-looks at that sentence- … -tilts her head and squints her eyes- ...Nope. Still don't know what she tried to say there.

and for the first time in weeks the reason why had nothing to do with himself. He had gone to speak to Varia as soon as he woke up, knowing he had very little time left to escape the tower before his fate was sealed,

Too late, you're already in a bad story where the author will, inevitably, make you seem like the worst offender when Vari-Sue betrays you.
Spoilers.

only to discover her gone from her bed. One of the other female apprentices had informed him that First Enchanter Irving had roused her in the middle of the night and taken her away – no doubt to undergo her Harrowing.

Much to my dismay. I'd much rather see her Tranquil so I won't have to read her smug-ass inner thoughts anymore.

He had been jealous, at first. He knew she'd always been more talented than him and would likely pass her Harrowing before he did, but now she would have the assurance that she would never be able to be made tranquil.

No one regrets this more than I.

She would get to live the rest of her life to the fullest – at least as fully as a Circle Mage was allowed – while he was set to become nothing more than an empty shell lacking every last vestige of humanity. His jealousy soon turned to concern, however, when the girl he had spoken to told him that Varia had been gone most of the night. All of the apprentices knew that the longer you took for your Harrowing, the less likely it was that you would come back. He couldn't lose his faith in her, though. She wastalented and she would pass the test.

She's the most powerful and speshul snowflake in the Tower; the Harrowing was a walk in the park for her, of course.

She had to. He needed her help too desperately for her to die at the hands of the templars right now.

Maker- even Jowan can't wait to blame the templars for something. With how much the author hates them, I wouldn't be surprised if someone blamed the templars for bad weather.

He heard the sound of the door at the top of the stairs opening and looked up from the book he had been trying to read to take his mind off things, and the frown on his face deepened. Cullen carried Varia down the stone steps, her body limp in his arms.
Of course it's Cullen. I'd be willing the bet the other templars in the Harrowing Chambers would have taken the time to grope Varia's unconscious seventeen-year-old body if Cullen wasn't there.
Jowan immediately stood from his chair and walked up to the templar, ready to throw a few choice words at him,

For what? Cullen is entirely blameless in this situation.

but the other man spoke before he even got a chance to say anything.
"She's fine, Jowan," Cullen assured him, having seen the accusation in the apprentice's eyes as he approached him. He knew that Jowan was Varia's best friend, and really hadn't been surprised at all that he had been in the reading room closest to the stairs which led to the upper levels of the tower, waiting to find out her fate.

At least Jowan is still as sweet as he was in the game. Good on him. <3

"Then why does she look like she's dead?" Jowan demanded, pointing to her chest, which was barely moving. Cullen sighed.
"The Harrowing is extremely taxing on a mage's body," he explained. "How long she'll remain unconscious, I cannot say. Perhaps she will awaken in a few minutes, maybe it will take several days. Each mage is different. I can tell you this, though: Hers was the quickest and cleanest Harrowing I've ever seen. Your friend is, indeed, very talented and brave."

-snorts- Oh, but of course she is. Leave it to this author to not miss an opportunity to rub how amazing she thinks Vari-Sue is in our face.

Jowan scowled at him. Of course he would say things to compliment her like that. The two of them were constantly having romantic trysts in isolated alcoves and hidden corners.

Apparently they're not very careful, if Jowan can just stumble upon them sucking each other's faces off. Smooooooooth.

The only reason Jowan's hadn't gone to Irving to expose his perfect little pupil's indiscretions was because Varia was the only real friend he had and he didn't want to risk losing her by getting the two of them into trouble.

-blows a kiss-

Besides, he had Lily now. What the two of them did together was no longer of consequence to him, even if he was still jealous of the templar for capturing the heart of the girl he'd been pining for.

-forces a grin- Of course Jowan is in love with Vari-Sue. Anyone with a dick seems to be in love with her. Even her surrogate older brother. -Another mark for Bingo-

"Jowan."

He heard the First Enchanter's voice calling his name and looked up to see the elder mage descending the stairs, looking older than he usually did.
I guess he just looked like a walking corpse then, since Irving is by no means a young-looking man.
He had probably been worried sick about Varia's Harrowing, too, despite the way he was always telling her how confident he was in her abilities as a mage. Even the most promising of apprentices could fail if faced with too difficult a challenge, after all.

-Bursts out laughing- Too difficult a challenge, hah!

"Yes, First Enchanter?" Jowan addressed him, making sure to keep his tone light even as he crossed his arms over his chest while stepping aside to allow Cullen to return Varia to her bed in the female apprentices' quarters. There was no actual proof that Irving had ordered Jowan's upcoming sentence, himself, but he sure as hell hadn't seemed to fight it very much – a fact that had caused Jowan to begin feeling quite hostile toward his best friend's mentor.

Better not let Vari-Sue know that you don't worship the ground Irving walks on. Then again, all she cares about is how much Irving dotes on her.

"When Varia awakens, will you please send her to see me? We have a guest who is due to arrive soon and I would like for her to meet him," Irving requested, his brown eyes not quite making contact with the younger man's gaze.

Rude, much?

Jowan's stance became less guarded against him when he suddenly realized the reason for this was because Irving genuinely felt guilty for what was about to be done to him.

What is it with this story and its characters knowing the innermost thoughts and feelings of anyone they look in the eyes? I know eyes are the gateways to the soul, and all that, but this is ridiculous. It will just get even more ridiculous later, trust me.

Jowan silently nodded in agreement and gave the First Enchanter a small bow when the older man thanked him and followed in the direction Cullen had gone, most likely heading to the tower's entryway in order to greet the guest he was expecting.

With a heavy sigh, he made his way to the female apprentices' quarters to check on Varia. He doubted Cullen would be stupid enough to try anything during the middle of the day, when someone could easily walk in and catch them in the act,

Cullen isn't. Vari-Sue, on the other hand, probably thinks it's a grand idea.

but he needed to make sure that was the case. He'd be damned if he let that bloody templar ruin everything she had worked so hard to achieve. His hands clenched into fists at his sides as he strode purposefully through the library and toward the apprentices' quarters, not even bothering to speak to the others who asked him if Varia was okay – instead simply answering their questions with a short nod of his head.


Why does everyone in the Tower care so much for Varia? I know she just took her Harrowing, and all, but not everyone is going to ask about her. Then again she is the sue; it'd be blasphemy if they didn't ask.

As he reached the doorway of the large sleeping area she shared with the other female apprentices,

As opposed to the sleeping area she shared with the baby dragons in the basement.

he saw Cullen exiting the room.

"She began stirring when I placed her back into her bed," the templar informed him, a sigh of relief escaping his lips. "She should wake up soon. You might want to be there when she does. The Harrowing isn't a very pleasant experience, from what I understand, and she's probably going to need a friend to talk to."

"So why aren't you staying with her?"

Because he's a templar and has other duties to attend to, and ignoring them to stay at Vari-Sue's side will just make his relationship with her that much more suspicious?

Jowan asked him. While not everyone was privy to the exact depth of their relationship, most of the mages in the tower at least knew that Cullen had become a sort of protector to Varia shortly after he first arrived to replace a templar who had been sent to serve in Kirkwall. Very few people knew why that was the case, but Jowan did. He knew far too well. It still sickened him to think about what had very nearly happened to her.

I am so sick of hearing about how Vari-Sue was sexually assaulted by a pedo-templar. I'm not even angry anymore; I'm just annoyed.

"I have to go on my morning rounds," Cullen replied, and Jowan didn't miss the note of disappointment in his voice. "I know you'll take good care of her, though. Maker be with you."

This story is so much more tolerable when Vari-Sue isn't plaguing it with her infuriating attitude. I wish it would stay this way.

"Right," Jowan muttered as the other man bowed to him slightly before heading off to patrol the upper floors, no doubt to watch the mages who worked and studied there like a hawk just waiting to pounce upon its prey – the prey, in this case, being any mage who looked as though they might be stepping out of line even the tiniest bit.

Even if it is understandable for Jowan to be resentful of the templars, given his situation, I can't give this a pass. I'm sick of reading how Evul the templars are.

Pushing aside his resentment toward the templar, he stepped through the doorway of the large room where the female apprentices slept and made his way over to Varia's bed.
Cullen had said she would be awake soon, and – to him – it could never be soon enough.


Varia felt like she was going to be ill.

Oh boy, she's coming around. I missed her so much. Wooooo.

The room was spinning, and she hadn't even opened her eyes, yet. She knew she was back in her own body and no longer in the Fade, though. She could no longer feel the thick magic in the air around her as she had during her Harrowing, and she could smell the distinct scent of elfroot with the faintest hint of sage underneath. There was only one person she knew who smelled like that.

Jowan has a distinct smell now? What is it with bad authors and describing characters by scent? I used to do that when I was younger, but grew out of it since it contributes nothing.

"Are you all right?" she heard Jowan ask her, and she felt the bed under her shifting as he sat down beside her. "Say something, please."

"Stop shaking the bed before I throw up on you," Varia groaned, opening a single grey eye and looking up at him.

Varia's eyes are grey, I hope no one's forgotten since the last twenty times the author told us.

"Sorry," he apologized, carefully getting back up while she pulled herself into a sitting position on the bed. "I take it Wendell wasn't exaggerating every time he got sick, then?"

"No, I still think he was exaggerating," she replied,

-eyeroll- Of course you'd think that, Vari-Sue. The Harrowing was just a minor annoyance to you.

sitting quietly for a moment before slowly standing from the bed. "It's just... Well... I can't exactly tell you, but allow me to say that it's rather appropriate that they call it the Harrowing."

To anyone but you, of course.

"You really can't tell me anything?" Jowan asked, sounding disappointed. "Not even just a little, tiny bit?"

"You know I can't, Jowan," she reminded him, sighing a bit and reaching up to rub the kinks out of her neck. She had probably been laying on that stone floor in the Harrowing Chamber for several hours, and now her body was protesting its mistreatment the only way it could.

Did her body not move the entire time she was on the ground? Just, stay as stiff as a board her entire Harrowing? She didn't move or twitch that entire time she was fighting in the Fade?

"So much for friendship," Jowan grumbled, then looked at her, his dark blue eyes turning sad for a moment. "I'm glad you're alright, though. When I heard the other apprentices talking this morning, saying you'd been gone most of the night, I got worried."

"You worry too much, you know," Varia scolded him, reaching out to gently squeeze his upper arm. "About everything."

Jowan scoffed and turned away from her, crossing his arms over his chest as his face scrunched up in mild disgust.

Even Jowan is appalled at how casually Vari-Sue is regarding the life-or-death ordeal she just went to. Even the characters in this twisted world are rebelling against the sue's influence, good on them.

"That's easy for you to say," he told her, sounding bitter. "You've passed your Harrowing and now you get to go live upstairs in the fancy mages' quarters. I'm still stuck down here, and I don't know when they'll take me for my Harrowing – or even if they'll take me for it."

-Snipping a pragraph that is, for the most part, completely harmless and not worth sporking. Basically Vari-Sue assures Jowan that his Harrowing will be coming any day now, and that he's being paranoid.-

"Listen, just because I'm going to be sleeping upstairs from now on doesn't mean I plan to stop helping you," she informed him. "I promise I will continue to give you lessons every day, until they finally decide to take you for your Harrowing."

"I appreciate it," Jowan said, though he didn't exactly sound appreciative.

I wouldn't want Vari-Sue teaching me, either. She's far too full of herself to be a good teacher. It speaks volumes about the quality of her teaching if now even Jowan could get anything useful from the most powerful mage evar.

He still sounded sad, and Varia was about to ask him what else was bothering him when he continued to speak.

"I was supposed to inform you when you woke up that the First Enchanter wishes to see you, right away."

"What for?" Varia wondered. It seemed odd that her mentor would ask to see her the very moment she woke up after having just gone through the Harrowing. Surely, he must know how taxing it had been on her body and mind.

Oh yes, because you are just so physically and mentally drained.
Seriously, this writing is so bland and lifeless, I've read dictionaries with more color than this.

Perhaps he simply wanted to congratulate her on succeeding, but he had been so confident that she wouldn't fail that there was really no need for such a sentiment –

Because you can't congratulate someone if you're confident they'll succeed. -eye roll- When I was in med school, all my teachers were confident that I would graduate with no problems, and when I did they all readily congratulated me. According to this logic, they only did so out of obligation, and not because they were happy for me.

which meant it must be something else, and that 'something else' must be important.
When isn't something involving you important, Varia? I'm surprised Irving isn't throwing a parade in your honor.

"He said he was expecting a visitor, and that he wanted you to meet him," Jowan informed her.

(Jowan) “It was this woman in weird clothing, and she said something about 'cleansing the world of the Sue.' Whatever that meant.”

"That's all I know. You're to go see Irving in his study upstairs. You had better not keep him waiting."

"Right," Varia agreed with a slight nod of her head. "We can speak more later, if you like."

"I'll come find you in a bit," Jowan told her, then left the room to go back to his studies in the library.

Varia went to the small washroom off the sleeping area and checked her reflection in a looking glass above one of the small vanity tables where the female apprentices were permitted to keep their cosmetic items.

-takes a deep breath- Use commas, for the Maker's sake!

Irving wanted her to meet a guest of his, and any guest of the First Enchanter was bound to be someone important. Therefore, she thought it would be appropriate if she looked her best.

It's time for a ~~Maaaaaaaaaake ooooovvvveeeeeeerrrrr~~

Her hair was a mess, and so she untied the yellow ribbon she used to hold it up and allowed the golden locks to tumble down around her shoulders.

Yes, I'd assume that when you take your hair out of a ponytail, it comes lose. But we wouldn't have had a sentence reminding us how Varia has luscious golden locks (even though her hair's strawberry-blonde)

She had just sat down and picked up a brush to run through her hair and smooth it back out when one of the female apprentices – a girl named Miranda who had become a bit of a friend of hers – peeked around the corner and grinned at her.

"I heard that Cullen's in love with you!" she said in a sing-song voice.

That's... a weird thing to say to a friend that just came back from her Harrowing. What? No congratulations? Asking if she's okay? Just reinstating that Cullen is the Designated Love Interest? Either Miranda is supposed to be written as an air-headed ditz, or the author just wanted another excuse to bash us over the head with that fact.

Varia's hand stopped mid-stroke as she was brushing her hair,

You already told us she was brushing her hair.

and she willed herself not to blush as she looked up at the ginger-haired girl, carefully keeping her expression as neutral as possible.

"Where did you hear something like that?" she asked, wondering just how many people had already heard this rumor.

The Circle is a tightly-knit group of young adults who probably are desperate for any exiting news. Any rumor would probably circulate fasted than you could blink.

"Well, I didn't hear those exact words, per se," Miranda said, stepping the rest of the way into the room and leaning against the wall next to the vanity where Varia was sitting. "I did, however, overhear him talking to Jowan as he was carrying you back to your room earlier."

Because boys can't compliment girls unless they're in love with them.

"He carried me back down here?" Varia asked, and this time she couldn't help the blush that colored her cheeks. Miranda giggled at the sight.

"He did," she confirmed, kneeling down next to her and lowering her voice. "He had you cradled in his arms like you were his bride. Honestly, I'm quite jealous."

Varia's going to be cradled by Her Man a lot in this story. I've read ahead, but I'll save my frothing rage for those chapters when we come to them.

"It's not like you would have been able to enjoy it, if you had been in my position," Varia told her. "I was unconscious, after all."

"True," Miranda conceded with a sigh. "But still... Just the thought of having him hold me close to him in those strong arms of his... Maker, it would be so wonderful."

Varia smiled a bit and returned to brushing her hair. Miranda wasn't the only other female apprentice who had developed a crush on the young templar.

Considering you've written every single templar in the Tower except for Cullen to be Teh Evul, the only way any apprentice could fall in love with any of them would be if they were masochists. Honestly, Cullen is kind of boring in Origins; he's much better in Inquisition.

They all knew that he and Varia had a close friendship, as well,

Because Vari-Sue is all anyone ever talks about, apparently.

and they often bugged her for information about him. She always gave vague answers to their questions, preferring to let them use their imaginations to fuel their fantasies about him however they pleased. However, it seemed that his recent actions were about to nudge their fantasies about him - and, more importantly, about the two of them - a bit too close to the truth of things.

Considering they have a make-out session in the senior mage's quarters -you know, an area without any doors- I'm surprised the entire Tower doesn't know. But since Vari-Sue thinks it's a totally well guarded secret, it is so.

"So, what did he say about me?" she asked nonchalantly as she finished brushing her hair and began pulling it up into her usual hairstyle.

"Oh, just that your Harrowing was the quickest he'd ever seen and that you're talented and brave and blah blah blah,"

Blah Blah blah, more mindless praise for the sue to increase her already alarmingly large ego. Blah Blah Blah.

Miranda told her, waving it off with her hand. "It wasn't so much what he said as how he said it, though."

"What do you mean?" Varia asked, holding her hair in place with one hand and picking up the long, satin ribbon to tie it back into her hair.

"It didn't really sound like he was praising you," Miranda explained. "It sounded more like he was enraptured by you."

He and every other man in this fic including, but not limited to: Jowan, Daveth, Jory, Alistair, Cailan, Loghain (you read that right), Zevran, Teagan, the nameless guard on the bridge at Ostagar, and several NPCs. I would add Sten to that list, but I have a sickening feeling this author will just brush him off, because he has the nerve to not recognize Vari-Sue's radiant beauty and brilliance right off the bat.

Her hair fixed, Varia sighed and turned to her friend, then grasped both of her hands in her own.

"Miranda, you're a dear friend," she said with a small laugh. "However, I think you've let these fantasies of yours go a bit too much to your head. Cullen and I are friends, nothing more. He helped me out once when I was in trouble, and now he feels like he needs to look after me – sort of like a big brother. That's all it is."

We'll find out later that every able-bodied man in the Tower went out of their way to protect Vari-Sue. Alistair will all but throw himself in harm's way to protect her while they're in the Wilds.

"Can't I at least pretend he's in love with you?" Miranda whined. "It gets so boring here in the tower, I need something juicy to daydream about."

Why not Anders, then? He's good looking, and much more interesting than Cullen. He probably has tons of stories to tell, and then he'd sleep with you. Win-win situation!

"I'd rather you not," Varia replied, shaking her head.

"Spoilsport," Miranda said, pouting, and stood up from her spot next to Varia's stool.

"Here's an idea," Varia suggested as she stood and began walking out of the female apprentices' quarters with the other mage. "Why don't you pretend that Cullen is in love with you? I'm sure that would make for much more titillating daydreams, yes?"

"You do have a point, there," Miranda agreed, grinning. "By the way, Varia – congratulations on your successful Harrowing."

Thanks for mentioning the Harrowing after a painfully forced “girl talk” scene, Miranda. You'd think that would be the first thing out of her mouth, if they were such good friends.

"Thank you," Varia replied, and the two of them parted ways. Miranda went to instruct some of the young initiates on the history and purpose of magic, while Varia made her way to the stairs leading to the second floor, where Irving's study was located.

She couldn't help noticing, as she passed through each of the reading areas along the way, that Jowan was nowhere to be found.

DUN DUN DUUUUUUNNN



"Many have already gone to Ostagar – Wynne, Uldred, and most of the senior mages! We have committed enough of our own to this war effort!"

"Your own? Since when have you felt such kinship with mages, Greagoir? Or are you simply afraid to let us out from under Chantry supervision, where we can actually use our Maker-given powers?"

Varia's pace slowed considerably as she approached the open door of the First Enchanter's study. Apparently, Irving and Greagoir were having one of their arguments – again. But instead of it being about the usual things –

-Like how unabashedly biased Irving was when it came to Varia, and the other apprentice's education was sub-par because of it.

like how to best punish an apprentice who talked back to a templar or what to do with a certain mage who kept escaping the tower over and over again – they were talking about some sort of war. Varia knew she should probably just leave and let them finish their conversation, but Jowan had said her mentor wanted to see her immediately after she woke up. Taking a breath and hoping that Greagoir wouldn't throw a fit at her for interrupting,

Because the confident, cool headed Knight-Commander has a hair-trigger temper and explodes into angry rants at the drop of a hat. All that is thrown out the window, and later Greagoir will be having a temper tantrum like a five year old, all because the author doesn't like him.

she stepped forward and quietly walked into the room.

"How dare you suggest--" Greagoir shouted in response to Irving's veiled inference that the Knight-Commander knowingly and purposely repressed the mages of the Ferelden Circle.

"Gentlemen, please!" stated a man Varia had never seen before, who had positioned himself between the Knight-Commander and First Enchanter. He had dark features and wore unusual armor covered in leather straps.

Duncan Donuts is into some kinky shit, let me tell you what. He'll whip you into shape, all right -wh-kish!-
...I'm so sorry.

Even more unusual, however, were the sword and dagger strapped to his back. The weapons themselves were quite ordinary, but the fact that he was allowed to possess them within the tower was odd. Normally, visitors were asked to relinquish their weapons to the templars before being allowed past the entry hall.

"Irving, someone is here to see you," the man informed the First Enchanter in his deep voice.

I'll gladly admit that I could listen to Duncan talk for hours, but what's the point in mentioning the pitch of his voice?

"You sent for me?" Varia asked, cautiously stepping farther into the room.

"If it isn't our new sister in the Circle," Irving greeted her, holding his arms out in a welcoming gesture. "Come, child. There is someone I wish for you to meet."

A woman wearing a red sweater seemed to appear out of the shadows of the room, dark brown hair cropped short and left to its own devices. She was holding a staff- was she a mage?- and grinned viciously at Varia. She shuddered and took a step back.

“There you are.” The woman said, her voice tinged with an accent Varia did not recognize. She approached Varia, the tip of her staff glowing menacingly. “Hate ta cut this short, but you've gotta go now. A-buh-bye.”
I can dream, can't I?

"This is...?" the dark-haired man asked, looking her over with a critical gaze.

"Yes, this is she," Irving stated proudly.

"Well, Irving, you're obviously busy," Greagoir said calmly, though Varia could still feel the tension in the air between the two older men. "We will continue our discussion later."

I'll miss Greagoir when he's calm and in character.

"You can count on it," Irving told Greagoir as he left the study,

What I won't miss is calm, composed, soft-spoken Irving being turned into a snarker whenever the author wills. I know he's voiced by Steve Blum and all, but come on.

then let out a sigh and turned back to his former apprentice. "Now, then... Where was I? Oh, yes! Duncan, this is my student, Varia. Varia, this is Duncan, of the Grey Wardens."

Varia's eyes went wide when Irving made the introductions. A Grey Warden? Here? She wasn't even aware that they existed any more. Surely, the fact that one had come to visit the Circle of Magi meant that something dire was going on outside the tower walls.

No, really? Ya think?

"Pleased to meet you," she greeted Duncan, suddenly remembering her manners.

"There is a war brewing to the south," Irving explained to her. "No doubt you overheard Greagoir and I arguing about it when you first arrived. Duncan is here to recruit mages to join the King's army at Ostagar."

"May I ask why?" Varia wondered. "Greagoir said we've already sent quite a few mages."

Mages who would be much better at dealing with the darkspawn than her. All Varia does is throw her magic around, all willy nilly, without telling her allies to duck or move out of the way. Because teamwork is for losers who aren't Vari-Sue.

"Mages are uniquely equipped to battle darkspawn," Duncan explained.

"Darkspawn?" Varia echoed, her voice rising slightly in pitch and her face going pale. "Then that means..."

"I'm afraid so," Duncan replied, knowing what she was thinking. "There is a large army of darkspawn that has been moving through the Korcari Wilds. I fear that it may be a sign that we are about to bear witness to another Blight."

"Duncan, you worry the poor girl with talk of Blights and darkspawn," Irving chided him. "This is supposed to be a happy day for her."

"Yes, I almost forgot," Duncan said, turning back to Varia. "Congratulations on passing your Harrowing. Irving tells me you set a record for the shortest time taken to complete the ritual.

If you guessed that Duncan does not go out of his way to praise the mage Warden to this extent in the actual game, then congratulations. You know that this was just a ploy to have him stroke Vari-Sue's ego.

That is quite commendable. However, these are troubled times and I fear there is no room for levity in this situation."

"On the contrary, we should embrace moments of levity," Irving countered, "especially in troubled times."

Duncan did not argue. He simply nodded respectfully to the First Enchanter. Irving then returned his attention to Varia, smiling proudly at her.

"You have passed your Harrowing. Your phylactery has been sent to Denerim. You are now officially a mage within the Circle of Magi. See? I knewyou wouldn't fail."

Auuuuuugggggghhhhhhhhhhhhh.

"Thank you, First Enchanter," Varia said, blushing a little.

"Come, child," Irving instructed, making his way over to his desk. "I have your new robes, your staff, and a ring bearing the insignia of the Circle. Wear them proudly, for you have earned them."

"Thank you, First Enchanter," Varia said once again, accepting the items from him and bowing to him in respect. Her eye caught something sitting on his desk, though, and she looked up at him with a puzzled expression on her face.

"First Enchanter? Why do you have a pile of books on Blood Magic sitting on your desk?" she asked as she slid her new ring onto her finger.

I won't knock her for mentioning books on blood magic because, yes, the codex entry for blood magic is in Irving's office. But they were on the table in the back of the room, and I don't think that was his desk.

"Ah," Irving said, picking up the books and carrying them over to a bookcase against the back wall of the room, where he deposited them on an empty shelf. "It has been brought to my attention that someone may have been dabbling in the forbidden arts. I removed these books from the library on Uldred's recommendation in order to prevent others from falling prey to the same temptation."

"Who's practicing Blood Magic?" Varia asked, recalling a conversation she had recently overheard between two of the male apprentices on the subject.

"Never you mind, child," Irving gently admonished her. "They will be dealt with, soon enough. Now, would you kindly see Duncan to the guest quarters? I have a matter I must attend to."

"Certainly," Varia agreed, bowing once more to the First Enchanter before walking over to Duncan.

"Shall I show you to your room, Ser Duncan?" she asked him.

You just agreed to escort him, and he's too polite to say “no” in that sort of situation.

"Please, just Duncan will be fine," he told her with a chuckle.

"Very well, Duncan. This way, please," she instructed, taking a moment to secure her staff at her back with the spell Irving had taught her before leading him out of the First Enchanter's study.

That sentence was so awkward I had to read it twice to make any sort of sense of it.

The two of them walked in silence down the hallway toward the guest quarters. Varia chewed her lip nervously and fussed with her new robes in her hands, wondering if she dare ask the question that was on her mind. She had finally decided that she would be better off keeping it to herself when Duncan suddenly stopped walking.

"It seems you have something on your mind," he commented when she turned to look at him.

"I was just curious about something," she told him, then shook her head. "Really, it's nothing important. Just a stupid question."

“Do you know the muffin man?”

"Are you sure?" Duncan asked. "I will be happy to answer any questions you may have, if I am able to provide an answer."

"Well," Varia began, then hesitated a moment before continuing. "I have a feeling I know why Greagoir and Irving were arguing when I arrived. They fight about the same things all the time. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm guessing Greagoir doesn't want to let too many mages get a taste of the freedom we're denied by being made to live here at the tower."

Because there is absolutely no way he's worried that those mages could cause a disturbance or become abominations or just kill everyone with their magic. Nope. In this world, Greagoir just hates mages and has no reason to act the way he does because, as Knight-Commander of the Kinolch Hold templars, he is the Evulest Evul to ever Evul.

"You would be right in that assumption, I'm afraid," Duncan told her, sighing a bit. "Greagoir serves the Chantry, and I daresay that they merelytolerate magic. It is their fear that if mages are allowed to use their full power, they will insist on the freedom they have been denied for so long."

Or cause a catastrophe and destroy all Ferelden, that too. Or even, dare I say it? Try and reclaim the Black City, and have the Maker scorn mankind even further.

"And what is your opinion on magic, if I may ask?"

"Magic is an invaluable tool," Duncan said, lowering his voice to prevent any nearby templars from hearing him and having him thrown out.

As a Grey Warden, Duncan has more authority than any of the templars in the Tower. He is a very polite man, yes, and would probably leave without arguing, but never fear being thrown out because he voiced his opinion.

"It is especially crucial for helping to fight the darkspawn. In fact, when it comes to those mages who have been allowed to join the King's army, I amcounting on them to unleash their full power upon the darkspawn –

And burn/freeze/electricute all the other poor saps who don't have magic, because in any difficulty above easy, magic can hurt your allies.

and that, in all honesty, should be the main concern of the Chantry: whether or not we are able to defeat the horde and prevent another Blight."

"I thought you said before that the Blight was imminent?" Varia asked, recalling his previous comment on the subject.

"I believe it is," Duncan clarified for her. "However, the King believes that if we are able to defeat the darkspawn horde before it spreads from the Wilds, we will be able to head off the Blight and stop it before it even gets started. Perhaps he is right. I cannot say. All I know is that if this is truly a Blight, we will need every able-bodied soldier we can find to fight it – including mages."

Varia nearly pointed out to him that mages are hardly 'soldiers,' but then she recalled her duel with Valor in the Fade. She hadn't been restricted in the use of her powers, and had defeated him easily.

Because you are the Sue, and are able to use magic without that pesky cool-down time. That, and I've always had the impression that, for all his grandeur, Valor wasn't very powerful either way. Certainly not as powerful as other spirits, like Justice. That said, I'm still pissed off she beat Valor without so much as breaking a sweat.

Surely, mages who were no longer under the scrutiny of templars could unleash a comparable amount of power upon the darkspawn and defeat them, as well.

"Come, let us be on our way," Duncan stated, and the two of them continued toward the other end of the curved hallway to where the guest quarters were.

"Here we are," Varia announced once they had reached the room that had been prepared for Duncan. "If you require anything else, please do not hesitate to let someone know. I hope you enjoy your stay here at the tower."

“Just don't ask me, I shall be far too busy basking in my own glory to help you when I'm out of Irving's sight.”

"Thank you," Duncan told her, bowing graciously before retiring to his room to rest.

Varia sighed and turned around, then nearly jumped out of her skin when she found Jowan had been standing right behind her.

"Don't sneak up on me like that!" she scolded him, slapping his arm.

Oblivious. As. A. Rock.
Jowan was standing right outside Duncan's room at this point in the game; you can see him as you're walking out. Unless she was walking backwards, she couldn't have missed him.

"Sorry, but I really need to talk to you," he told her, sounding panicked. "Are you done with Irving?"

"For now, I suppose," she replied.

"Good," Jowan whispered. "Remember earlier, when I was worried about not having taken my Harrowing yet? Well... I know why I haven't."

"Why are you whispering?" she asked him.

"Just... please, Varia. Come with me. I need your help."

Varia's brow furrowed as she took in his expression. She hadn't noticed it earlier because her mind had still been a bit hazy from her Harrowing,

And because there was gushing to do about her relationship with Cullen to do, damn it.

but Jowan looked terrible. His hair was a mess, and he had dark circles under his eyes. He likely hadn't slept much – if at all – the previous night.
How do you not notice it if you're best friend looks that bad? Then again, this is Vari-Sue, and she only pays attention to what the author deems to be important.

Something was bothering him. Something very bad, considering how desperate he had sounded when he pleaded with her to help him. She nodded quietly for a bit before speaking.

"Alright, Jowan," she told him. "You know I'll help you – you're my best friend, after all."

That won't last long.

"Good," Jowan said, letting out a relieved sigh. "Follow me. It's not safe to discuss this out in the open."

Varia hesitated for a moment, then began to follow him back the way she had just come. He was acting rather suspiciously, which bothered her. She would hear him out, though, because he was her best friend and had been there for her whenever she needed him for the past thirteen years.

And she, in return, has done diddly-squat. What a good friend.

The very least she could do was return the favor by hearing him out about his problems.

For the first time, she's doing something out of the kindness of her own heart. Even if it is just because the plot demands it so.
In all seriousness, this chapter was actually close to being decent, probably because Cullen wasn't there to shove his tongue down Vari-Sue's throat, and she didn't have a chance to show off how amazing she was. I was pleasantly surprised that Jowan and Duncan were, for the most part, unchanged from how they are in the game. I was expecting the two of them to mindlessly praise Vari-Sue for everything that it was worth.

“But Sve,” some of you may be thinking. “Shouldn't you take this as a sign that the future chapters won't be worth sporking, if the writing will be improving from here on?” Usually, it would. If I hadn't been reading ahead, I would bow out gracefully. Seeing as how it doesn't, I'm here for the long haul.

{OhmiMakrr, Durgon Arge}When she was seven years old, Elea Surana discovered that she had magic.

She had been living in the Denerim Alienage at the time, too young and ignorant of how badly life was for the elves who didn't find a consistent way of bringing in coin. Her mother worked for a horrible woman named Goldanna, slaving away over tubs of clothing while her boss barked orders and made excuses as to why she didn't work as hard or pay as much. Goldanna had five human children, each one worth more than the two filthy little urchins Sypha Surana had brought into the world. She didn't make much, four coppers a day at the most, but sometimes some generous soul would offer her ten when they discovered that she had done the cleaning and not Goldanna.

They didn't have much, they were frugal with their food, and their roof leaked. But Sypha told them stories of the time she and their father spent in one of the wandering Dalish clans, and taught her children the beliefs of the Dalish. It was a simple, life. Playing with three year old Tobias, or their neighbor Darrian Tabris- it was a happy enough existence, Elea and Darrian often spoke about how they would get married and find one of the Dalish clans one day, but the fantasy shattered just as easily as it had been formed. Elea and Darrian had been arguing over something petty and childish, and when she pushed him her hands scorched his flesh. His screaming was heard all throughout the Alienage, and would haunt Elea's dreams for several years to come. She drew her hands away in horror, and accidentally burned her right eye. Her screams of anguish were, perhaps, louder than Darrian's had been, but the templars cared little as they dragged her out of the only home she had ever known.

“Monster,” they called her, “filthy, disgusting abomination.”

The only one who seemed to offer her any sort of kindness was Ser Otto, who dried her tears and tended to the purple and black bruises on her arm as they rode towards Lake Calenhad. He gently rubbed a healing poultice into the burn to try and sooth the pain, and although he didn't say anything, he knew that her sight in that eye would probably be compromised for the rest of her life. Perhaps she would go blind in that eye one day, he could not say.

Elea, on the other hand, just wanted this nightmare to end. She wished that she would wake up with Tobias snuggled in her arms and everything would be back to normal. She closed her eyes and covered her ears, trying to make the Fade go away so she could wake up, but it never did. She cried for her mother, she cried for her father, and even tried to squirm her away out of the moving carriage so she could find her way home. Ser Otto held her firmly, telling her that everything would be alright when they got to the Tower. That she would be well fed and warm and receive the kind of education the Alienage could never provide her with.

“I want to go home,” Elea chocked out, looking up at the templar with bloodshot eyes. “Please let me go home. I'm sorry, I won't touch anyone ever again.. just please, Ser, let me go home.”

“I'm afraid... that isn't possible, child.”

“But why?”

Ser Otto paused, unsure how to explain it to a hysterical child. How did one tell a little girl that she could become a monster if she wasn't monitored closely? How could anyone explain that she had the potential to kill everyone she ever cared about, without even knowing it? Otto had seen an child become an abomination once before, a child in an apostate camp that he and his brothers had tracked down deep in the Brecillian Forest. The child's flesh had blistered horribly as a demon of rage entered took refuge in his body- and Maker screams. Ser Otto shut his eyes to be rid of the memory, it seemed that the Maker would never forgive him for such a tremendous failure.

“It is to keep you safe,” Ser Otto supplied in the gentlest voice he could muster. Either his words resounded with the girl, or she was simply too tired to argue anymore, whatever the case was, she curled into a little ball and fell into a restless sleep.

She was a quiet, introverted child, rarely interacting with any of the other apprentices her age. Some of the older apprentices taunted her and tugged on her ears, mocking her for being an elf and commenting that it was a good thing that she remained quiet. Elves were meant to be seen as something pretty, not things meant to be heard. Not that Elea was even considered cute, with the tattoo under her left eye and her overly prominent cheekbones.

It was only during the morning prayers did someone try to befriend her. A young boy slid next to her on the otherwise empty pew, causing her to raise her head slightly.

“Hello,” he said, barely above a whisper. Elea glanced around cautiously, knowing that the Sisters weren't above smacking any apprentices who didn't listen during the sermon. She chewed her bottom lip before whispering back,

“hello.” As if called by the sound of her voice, one of the Sisters shushed them harshly, making Elea jump in her seat and bow her head even lower. The Sister smacked the boy upside the head for good measure before she turned her attention back to the Mother at the front. When the service ended the and apprentices were dismissed for breakfast, the boy followed Elea out casually. “Um... why are you following me?” She asked the boy finally. He shrugged faintly,

“Breakfast is that way,” he explained, and Elea felt incredibly foolish for assuming that she was being followed and turned her head away. “I've also noticed that you're always by yourself. Don't you get lonely?”

“No,” she answered, too quickly to be genuine. The boy frowned and pointed at her accusingly.

“Liar,” Elea felt her cheeks and ears burn in shame, and tried to pull her hair over her face. “I want to be your friend,” the boy continued confidently.

“Why?”

“Why not?” the boy grabbed her hand cheerfully and led her down the hall towards the great hall. “You seem nice, and everyone needs a friend.”

“B-but I don't even know your name!”

“Jowan,” he smiled back at her brightly, “there. Now tell me yours.”

“Elea...”

“I like that.”

The two continued to banter back and forth through breakfast, with Jowan doing most of the talking as he animatedly talked about anything and everything that was on his mind at the moment. He was ten, three years older than Elea, came to the Tower when he was five. He wanted to become the First Enchanter someday, and show his family the world that mages weren't the monsters that everyone thought they were. He wanted to visit Orlais and Antiva- see the entire world one day. His dreams made Elea's seem pathetic in comparison, since her ambitions didn't extend past going back home to her family one day.

Breakfast ended far too quickly, causing Elea and Jowan to part ways. “We'll talk later!” He promised as Elea was ushered away by one of the Sisters to join the rest of the children for their afternoon lessons on the dangers of magic. She smiled the entire time, despite being accused of mocking the laws of the Chantry when it came to the arcane, but found herself not caring in the slightest.

“So, how come you never told me you could braid hair?”

“What, and give everyone even more of an excuse to make fun of me? No thank you.” Jowan and Elea (now sixteen and thirteen respectively), had met in the apprentice quarters in order to study, but after seeing her her fuss with her hair for so long, Jowan offered to help her with it. She sat cross legged in front of him as he skillfully wove the top layer of her hair into a braid, fiddling with the hair pins in his mouth with his tongue.

“It's good for finger dexterity,” Elea informed, “and that's important for the more complicated spells.”

“Try explaining that to some of the other apprentices, I doubt they'd be inclined to listen,” He spun the braid into a tight bun and stuck in a hair pin to keep it in place.

“That's their loss,” Elea said with a faint frown as Jowan put in another pin.

“As true as that is, I'd rather not mention it. 'Hello, my name is Jowan and I braid hair to practice spell casting,' doesn't exactly make me sound very masculine.” He tapped Elea on the shoulder to signal that he was done and stood up. “Any better?” Elea reached back to gently touch the bun, marveling at how tightly woven it was without being uncomfortable.

“It's much better, thank you so much.” She smiled as he sat back down before her, picking up his previously discarded book, licking his thumb, and turning back to the page he was on. “Can you teach me how to braid?”

“After you teach me more about Entrophy,” Jowan frowned and scratched his head in frustration. “Runes really shouldn't be as hard as they are,” he lamented with a sigh.

“You're thinking too hard about the theory behind it,” Elea said, pulling over a blank sheet of paper and a quill. “Think of it like you're writing. Too much pressure, and the ink starts to run, right?” She pressed the tip of the quill harshly against the paper, a dark blue blotch bleeding out onto the paper. “Too little, and your lines aren't strong enough,” she readjusted her grip on the quill and drew a faint line. “You have to find a balance where you can keep it from bleeding, but still make it visible,” she drew a misdirection hex on the paper, the image sloppily drawn at best. “Replace the quill with your magic, and the paper with where you want to cast it, and the rest should come naturally.” Elea concluded, putting the quill back in its inkwell. “Does that make sense?”

Jowan squinted his eyes at the paper, as if looking for an answer within the scribbles and stains of ink. “I think so...” he said after a few seconds on contemplation.

“If it helps, do what you do when your casting your Primal spells, but manipulate the mana differently. It's easier to cast Entrophy spells when you're calm, so if you feel nervous, take time and breathe. The last thing we want is for you to set something on fire because you're so nervous.”

“Gee, thanks,” Jowan deadpanned, dropping his chin into the palm of his hand.
“You are welcome,” Elea giggled. “So now that we've discussed that, can I practice braiding on you?”

“On second thought, maybe you should go over it again,” Jowan said hurriedly, his voice cracking. He flushed when he realized how laughably high pitched he sounded and all but buried his face in the tome he held. He was thankful he and Elea were some of the only people who remained in the apprentice's quarters, although he could hear some girls giggling from their side. Probably at him. He groaned and cursed the erratic changes his voice was going through. The elf patted his shoulder comfortingly, but he was far too embarrassed to find any comfort in it.

Earlier that evening, it had been announced that Elea, along with a handful of other promising apprentices, had been chosen to taught by First Enchanter Irving himself. Only four apprentices ever had the honor of being taught by a First Enchanter during their time in the Tower, but Elea didn't feel honored. Well, perhaps that wasn't the right way to say it; she was incredibly honored to have someone as wise and powerful as the First Enchanter teach her from now on, but she was the only elf who had been chosen. She hadn't ignored the nasty looks the other apprentices gave her during their classes, and even Jowan seemed to force himself to be happy for her. What could she say? No? That wasn't an option.

The eighteen-year-old sighed and ran a hand over one of the braids that hung behind her ears nervously. She had been burdened with a huge responsibility; she would be one of the mages others would look to as an example of everything a Circle apprentice stood for. Couldn't the First Enchanter have chosen someone else? Even Anders, despite his constant attempts to escape, was Wynne's prized student. He also made it no secret that he abhorred the First Enchanter, so perhaps it was for the best that he wasn't chosen. She sighed again and pushed the heavy oaken door to the chapel open, nearly dropping her book in surprise when she found someone else, kneeling before the statue of Andraste. The other person, a man perhaps a year or so older, lifted his head to look over his shoulder.

“I-I'm so sorry,” Elea stammered, trying to reorganize herself. “I didn't know anyone else came here so late. I'll just, um...” she drummed her fingers against the book, “go.”

“The chapel is for everyone,” the man replied simply. “Stay, I don't mind.” Elea worried her bottom lip for a few seconds before silently sitting on “her” pew in the very back, slowly opening the book in her lap, as if she feared the turning of pages would somehow disturb this man's evening prayers. It was much more serene without the Mother preaching at the front, much more peaceful without the templars and Sisters breathing down her neck. Elea could feel the Maker's warmth in the candles that had been lit, and felt some of her previous tension melt away under Andraste's benevolent gaze.

The minutes seemed to blur together, and it was only when Elea started nodding off did she theorize that it must have been sometime past midnight. She muffled and yawn and rubbed at her eyes, looking up when she heard someone clear his throat.

“I can walk you back to the apprentice's quarters. If-if you don't mind, that is.” The man offered, standing a few paces away from her.

“You say that like you don't live here,” Elea responded. She wondered if, perhaps, he was a new apprentice, newly brought to the Tower without being told which way was up or down.

“I haven't, not for long. I'm a-” he coughed into a fist, “-one of the new templars who have been assigned here. Arrived this morning.” Suddenly Elea felt foolish for speaking so freely to a templar. Mages who spoke out of line, in the eyes of the templar, were punished with varying degrees of severity. She had once seen an apprentice be dragged out the room, kicking and screaming, because he had mocked a templar when he thought they couldn't hear him. The apprentice had been put in solitary confinement for the entire day, and hadn't spoken a word for nearly a week after. There were horrible stories about what templars did to the females, but no one dared to confirm or deny it.

“I'm sorry I spoke so freely, ser,” Elea said, bowing her head lowly. She hoped that whatever punishment she received would be minor, since this man was new.

“What? N-no, no, you didn't,” The templar shook his head. “How could you have known?” The elf raised her head slowly, placing her palms against her chest to show that she had no intentions of attacking him suddenly. “B-but my offer still stands. You don't have to.”

“...Can you tell me your name, please?”

“Cullen, and you are?”

“Elea. It's a pleasure, Ser Cullen.” She stood up slowly, hugging her book tightly to her chest and looking directly into his eyes. Always look a templar in the eyes, never break eye contact, not unless you want to be struck. “And I would be honored if you accompanied me.”

The walk back to the apprentice's quarters was painfully quiet and awkward, a stark contrast to the serenity that had been found in the chapel. A few templars on their night rounds looked at the two inquisitively from the shadows of their helms, but otherwise said nothing. With Elea constantly keeping her gaze on the floor, the others might have suspected that she was being taken to face a punishment of some kind. She shuddered, hoping that she wasn't about to experience the rumored atrocity that the templars inflicted on the female mages. Ser Cullen seemed nice enough, but anyone could act nice in order to lower one's guard. She gripped her book tighter to her chest and wished she could disappear.

Much to her relief, she wasn't pulled into a dark corner to be ravished, as some of the darker rumors suggested, but found herself in front of the door to the apprentice's quarters, as promised. She blinked in surprise before looking to Cullen, who seemed to be be just as uncomfortable as she had been. He stammered for a while, before sighing heavily and bidding her goodnight, and hurried down the hall before she could wish him goodnight in kind. Elea slipped into the the chamber and leaned heavily on the doors as she closed them behind her, her shoulders slacking as she breathed a sigh of relief.

“Elea!” The twenty-year old was grabbed by her shoulder and spun around, and she blinked rapidly at the sight of Solona Amell, looking haggard and desperate. “Have you seen Daylen anywhere?” She asked, sounding like she would break down in tears at any moment. Daylen and Solona Amell were twin brother and sister, and perhaps the brightest students who had come to the Tower in this generation.

Elea shook her head no, and Solona dropped her hands from the elf's shoulders in defeat. “I haven't seen him since yesterday,” she began, wringing her hands nervously. “We-we both surmised that we would be taken for our Harrowings sometime soon, b-but he should be done with his by now, right?” Deep blue eyes, shining with un-shed tears, looked at Elea desperately.

“I'm sure he is,” Elea tried to comfort, “I'm sure he's just resting somwhere-”

“Then why won't anyone tell me where he is?!” Solona interrupted hysterically, pacing back and forth and running her hands through her hair. “All-all I get are these looks from the Senior Enchanters, but no one is telling me anything!” She rubbed at her eyes furiously, her chest heaving. She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes before slowly running them down her face. “I need you to come with me to the First Enchanter's office. Irving knows something, he has to.” Solona stepped forward and grasped both of Elea's hands, her face streamed with tears.

“Of course I will. We'll get to the bottom of this, I promise you.”

Solona tightened her grip on Elea's hands, “Maker bless you,” she said barely above a whisper. The two of them walked solemnly towards the First Enchanter's office, Solona never once letting go of Elea's hand. She pushed the door to Irving's office open without awaiting an invitation, which was unheard of for someone usually so polite, and gasped at what she saw. Daylen was alive and well, standing in between First Enchanter Irving and Knight-Commander Greagoir, staring blankly at the wall in front of him. “Daylen,” Solona whispered, tears streaming down her face. She rushed over to him, “thank the Maker, I thought the worst had happened.” She said, placing her hands on either side of his face.

“Sister, it is good to see you, as well.” Daylen said in a monotone voice. A cold chill shot down Elea's spine when she realized what that most likely meant. She looked away from the two and clutched her fists.

“What? Hah, very funny, Daylen. Acting Tranquil to scare me,” Solona slapped his cheeks lightly, “you can stop now. You got me.”

“I'm afraid he isn't acting, child,” First Enchanter Irving spoke, putting a comforting hand on her back. Solona looked at him,

“First Enchanter I-I-” she swallowed thickly before continuing, “I don't understand.”

“We have gradually noticed that he's been becoming unstable these past few years,” Knight-Commander Greagoir said sternly. “At the First Enchanter's request, we have been monitoring him for any signs of improvement, if anything he became worse. This was the best option.”

“This?!” Solona screeched, turning to the templar and glaring up at him. Greagoir didn't flinch in the slightest. “Turning him into a soulless husk was the best option?!” She turned back to Irving, her hands mana sparking across her fingertips dangerously. “And you! All that talk about how he was one of the finest mages you had seen, how he had the potential to be a Senior Enchanter, it was all a lie?!”

First Enchanter Irving closed his eyes solemnly, “I wish it wasn't so. I had hoped that he would re-stabilize over time. When he did not, I had to consider the safety of everyone else, over my trust in him.”

“Liar!” Solona screamed, lightning sparking from her hands and hitting Irving in the chest. He did not move an inch, but Knight-Commander Greagoir had begun to draw his weapon, the other few templars in the room moving towards the hysterical mage. “Stay away from me!” Solona cried again, a powerful shockwave pulsing from her body, pushing the templars back a few steps. She held her hands up, fingers curling around the lighting emanating from her palms. “Or I'll- I'll-”

Anything she might have said was cut off when a glyph of paralysis appeared under her feet, lighting up brilliantly before the magic froze her in place. Elea sighed and lowered her hands.

“I'm sorry,” she said, loud enough for the paralyzed Solona to hear. She wiped the tears from her eyes as Knight-Commander Greagoir cautiously approached the human mage and put his hands on either side of her head. His hands began to glow a brilliant white, and a second shockwave emanated from him dispelling the glyph and knocking all the breath from Elea's lungs. Solona slumped forward into Greagoir's arms, and he gestured for one of the templars to collect her.

“Knight-Commander,” Elea spoke up, taking a step forward. “What are you going to so with Solona?”

“She attacked my men and the First Enchanter,” Greagoir began coldly. “Chantry Law states that she be executed, you know this.”

“That's too far!” Elea said, covering her mouth with both hands when Greagoir glared at her.

“To attack a templar is to attack the servants of the Maker,” Greagoir stated, “what do you think would happen if we let someone to violently unstable go?” He glared at Elea, and she bowed her head in order to avoid his gaze, hands folded in front of her. “She could tear the Veil asunder and become an abomination. I will not allow that to happen. Do you understand?”

“Understood, Ser.” The templars marched out of the First Enchanter's office, Solona held in between them, and Elea drew her shoulders up, keeping her head down.

“It would be wise to avoid this in the future, Irving,” Greagoir said before nodding his head sternly and following his men out the door. Daylen followed obediently, completely apathetic to what had just happened, and bid Elea good day before he left.

Irving sat at his desk and rubbed his temples, “I am sorry you had to witness that, Elea.”

“...it isn't fair...” Elea said in a small voice, her shoulders trembling, “execution is too far. That's her brother, or at least it was.” She sniffed and quickly dried her eyes on the sleeve of her robe.

“I am no happier about it than you are,” Irving laced his fingers together, “but sometimes extreme measures must be taken to ensure the safety of everyone.”

“There had to be a better way...”

“I do not see how that would have ended happily,” Irving shook his head solemnly. “I am not proud for letting it happen, but I could sense how close Solona was to tearing the Veil,” Irving closed his eyes again. “She would have become an abomination, and the situation would have been much worse. That said, you have my thanks for your help.”

“I don't feel like I helped.”

“I know, child, I know.”

Jowan poked his head out of the chapel, looked this way and that, before stepping out cautiously. He looked back to Lily, who smiled beautifully at him and blew him a kiss goodnight. He closed the doors and leaned against them, pressing a hand against his chest in an attempt to stop his heart from bursting out of his chest. He felt like the luckiest man in the world, despite everything in his life saying that he should be mediocre, at best. It seemed like the rubbish romance novels that Elea read had some truth to them after all; he did feel like he was flying.

“Jowan?” He jumped, Elea's voice forcing him out of his euphoric state of mind. He turned his head rapidly before settling on the elf, who looked at him with a quizzical stare. It was amazing how much taller than her he had gotten within a few short years. He had spent his late teens barely a head taller and had resigned himself to a life of being short, before he finally shot up like a bean-stock during his twenty-third year. It was the one thing he had over her (Maker, pun not intended), and he'd be lying if he didn't feel a little proud of the fact.

“G-good evening,” Jowan said, running his hands down his robes in a pathetic attempt to look casual. “How are you? Nice weather, isn't it?”

“There's four feet of snow outside,” Elea replied.

“Oh. Right.” Jowan coughed into a fist, mentally slapping himself for making such a huge mistake.

Elea touched Jowan's arm gently, “is everything alright? You seem frantic.”

“Me? I'm fine! Perfectly,” Jowan swallowed, “fine.” Elea blinked, clearly not believing him, but shook her head and took her hand away. She was clutching another book to her chest, and Jowan hoped to the Maker it wasn't that horrid Swords and Shields novel that had been circulating. He had dared to read a few paragraphs of it, once, and ended up feeling like he needed a hot bath afterward. Elea was too sweet to read garbage like that.... or was she? Jowan shook his head to be rid of the thought.

“I didn't expect to see you here,” Elea continued, waving a hand towards the chapel door. “You never pray unless forced.” Ah, if she was there to read, then there was no way that book was Swords and Shields. No one in their right mind would read a book like... that... with Andraste leering doing at them.

“Well, there's a first time for everything, right?” Jowan said lamely, “so what are you reading?” He asked, eager to change the subject. Elea shifted awkwardly, suddenly becoming interested with a sconce on the wall.

“A book.”

“Clearly. What's the title?”

Elea blushed all the way to the tips of her ears, “SwordsandSheildsVarricTethras.” She said in a single breath, her blush deepening.

“Seriously?” Jowan balked, feeling his big brother instinct start to kick in. “Elea, you're better than that!”

“I was curious!” She defended quickly, “and-and everyone said it was good, so I figured I'd look at it a little...”

“Is it good?”
“Yes. ...No... I'm not sure.” Elea looked at the cover of the book like it would help decide what she thought about it. She sighed and tucked it under her arm, “I'll just give it to Lydia, she's been wanting to read it.”

“Wynne's going to find out when she comes back,” Jowan warned, ushering Elea away from the chapel. “And then we're all going to get in trouble for passing erotica around,”

“Anders brought it from the outside,” Elea said, running a thumb along the hard, leather-bound cover. Jowan scoffed and rolled his eyes,

“I am not surprised in the slightest.” It was almost fascinating to see Anders' decline over the years. He had gone from being one of the best healers in the tower, to a sex maniac who taunted the templars on a daily basis with his increasingly intricate plans to escape from the tower. Maybe he was going insane. Mages in isolation were given only enough lyrium to prevent them from becoming raving mad, maybe the deprivation had done something to his brain. It was kind of depressing, to be honest, since Anders used to be one of Jowan's biggest idols when he was growing up.

Thoughts of possibly insane mages and the naughty books he brought from outside aside, Jowan and Elea found themselves in the library, where he plucked the book from Elea's grasp and casually slid it into an unoccupied spot on the shelf. No doubt Finn would rant about how a “disgusting blight on the written word” was left amidst the Tower's collection of Fereldan history, but anyone could easily tune his long, long speeches out. “Now then,” Jowan brushed his hands off, “as long as we're together, did you want anything?” He turned back to Elea, who was picking at the ends of her sleeve nervously.

“I think that I'll be called to my Harrowing soon...” Elea admitted in a quiet voice. “But I don't think I'm ready yet, I only just turned twenty-three!” The other apprentices in the library turned to look at her, curious about the sudden increase in volume, and she ducked her head to avoid their gazes. “First Enchanter Irving said that I wouldn't have to wait much longer, but I....” She blinked the tears from her eyes and looked up at Jowan. “I'm terrified.”

“Hey, hey,” Jowan drew her into an one armed hug, holding her close at his side. “You'll do fine. You're brilliant and everyone here knows it,”

“Desmond was brilliant, too, and he never came back,” Elea replied in a choked voice. “If he didn't come back, what hope do I have?” She buried her face in her hands to muffle her sobbing. Jowan carefully lowered them to the floor, and she slouched against him at as soon as she could. Soon her sobs died down and she pulled her hands away, rubbing at her tear-stained face to try and erase the ugly redness.

“All better?” Jowan asked gently, rubbing her back in small circles.

“Not entirely,” Elea sighed. “I wish I could ask someone what the Harrowing is. But... Jowan... in case I don't come back,”

“Stop right there,” He interjected, grabbing both of her shoulders and turning her to face him. “You will come back.”

“You don't know that,” Elea put her hands over Jowan's and squeezed faintly. “I don't know that. So I need to say this before it happens.” She took a deep breath through her nose. “You're the best thing that's happened to me. You're the best friend I have in this world,” she paused to rub at her eyes, voice choked with tears. “The only one who doesn't look at me like I'm a monster because of this scar on my face,” she brushed her fingers across the burn scar under her right eye, “and the only one who doesn't glare when I say my parents came from a Dalish clan.” She licked her lips and struggled to find her words. Jowan swallowed thickly at the lump of his throat, knowing that he had to be the stronger of the two of them. For her sake, and for his. “I can't thank you enough for everything. Just.. pray for me when my time comes. Please?”

Jowan wasn't a religious man, no matter how had the Andrastian faith had been shoved down his throat all these years. He had a hard time revering a woman who seemed to condemn mages centuries before he was even born, and seemed to be the mother of the hatred against them. The Chant of Light sounded like rubbish to him, but Elea... was as devout as anyone could be. Perhaps by her own choice, perhaps because the Sisters had told her that her parent's beliefs were evil. Whatever the case was, she dedicated her life to the Maker and His Prophet, and to deny her request would be unforgivable.

“I will.” Jowan said in a small voice. Elea smiled gratefully at him between her tears and hugged him like he was the only thing keeping her in this world.

Late that night, he was studying via candlelight, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and swearing to himself that he'd actually succumb to the Fade once he had finished this chapter. The apprentice chambers opened with a groan, followed by the sound of heavy plate armor marching against the stone floor. Jowan blew out his candle and crept over to the wall separating the men's half from the woman's, squinting his eyes in the darkness. He could make up First Enchanter Irving kneeling in front of someone's bed, and Jowan's blood went cold when he recognized it as Elea's. The elf was gently shaken awake, and she and Irving shared a few hushed words before she got out of bed and followed him out of the chamber, the templars walking on either side of her. It seemed more like a funeral march than anything.

“Maker preserve you.” Jowan muttered under his breath. True to his word, he sat on his bed, clutched his hands together, and bowed his head in prayer.