Arbor Wilds - Ch 2Sebastian tries his best to help Hawke heal, with help from villagers and het his far nameless boy. He had asked the boy his name the morning after their arrival, but the boy replied that had he ever been given one by his parents, it was long lost and forgotten. His master had never deigned to give him a name, because he claimed it would only bring a sense of entitlement and belonging.Arbor Wilds - Ch 2 by MidnightMinx90
But what ails her is far more than malnourishment and a common cold, and it’s her heart that fares the worst.
She’s not been awake for two weeks and she talks in her sleep, muttering two names; Fenris and Leto. Sebastian and the boy barely knows who Fenris is, but Leto is a mystery to them both and they hope it’s not someone else Hawke’s lost.
She wakes up at last after almost three long, painful weeks, Sebastian almost interrupting the evening service to go see to her, even knowing she’s safe in the hands of the healer. As soon as he’s done he wills himself not to run
The Five Years: Year ThreeWhen Stiles meets Derek the second time, it’s year three.The Five Years: Year Three by MidnightMinx90
The coldness in Stiles is just as it was when Derek left, but the shadows in and on Derek have grown darker and deeper.
There is a certain strength in it, Stiles muses, in the camaraderie of family lost in front of their eyes.
They’ve both gotten thinner since last they met, and to Derek Stiles seems too thin, too worn inside and outside, frayed at the edges.
Stiles has a tattoo now, too, one that he shows to Derek at night from the light of a single candle.
It’s a huge tree, the roots disappearing beneath the edge of his sweatpants and the leafless branches spreading out over his shoulders.
Derek doesn’t ask, but Stiles explains it’s a nemeton; a sacred tree he once saw on a hike in the woods. He buried his father under it, he explains, not caring if it makes sense or not.
Because to be fair, nothing makes sense anymore.
Stiles says the tree is just a stump now, and that the one on his back is for
Theirin Tales: Becoming a Theirin…Denerim Castle; a month after the Blight…
Standing before the full-length mirror in her wedding gown, Alona tilted her head to the side and took in the sight of her reflection. Wrapped in the satins and silks that were adorned with delicate lace and intricate beadwork, she was a vision in white. Small, white flowers were woven into her scarlet hair which was bound up in an elegant twist, and small tendrils framed her lovely face. Her heart fluttered wildly in her chest even as she could feel herself tearing up, and she slowly let out a breath in attempts to calm herself.
"If you’re nervous, you shouldn’t be. You look positively radiant in that dress, and even if you were wearing a burlap sack and covered in mud, Alistair would still be absolutely mad for you."
Alona opened her eyes and turned her face just enough so she could catch her younger brother’s reflection in the mirror. “Shouldn’t you be in Alistair’s room, Cameron?” she a
Hell's fire, Mother Night and may the Darkness be merciful
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