People are expecting to see you. Posted 1 month ago 1 note via Ina fics drabbles Inara x Nathaniel. It was likely one of the reasons that she was always the last to leave, bent over the table making notes as completely as she could, trying to memorize all the little pieces there on the map, and trying not to look at the letters that had come from Denerim. He fixed her hair, pulled at her dress. To her left, only darkness.
She takes his hand, and he drags her to her feet, holds her arm firm until her knees are steady. The stones were cold, and the hair on her skin stood on edge as she moved through the dark towards the beckoning warmth and light of the fire. So he did hear me. Did you need something? And the bandage at the back of her neck. Inara blushed deeper, and felt like her cheeks might catch fire. Seranni moved towards the platform where the Architect studied, and returned with a satchel, which she offered to the Warden with a stern look on her face.
The beds were soft, the fireplaces were warm, and she and Alistair had a room in the royal quarters far enough away from their companions that her lover was no longer embarrassed of the noises that they made in the middle of the night. Nathaniel looks good in noble clothes. Nathaniel stepped closer to her as she grabbed another tunic from the back of a chair, grabbed her wrist to stop her from stuffing it in the bag with the others.
Outside, rain poured down from a black, moonless sky. What performance? And your performance. Posted 3 months ago 3 notes via drabbles Ina fics.
More you might like
He looks on purpose. Inara took the bag, Inside were stacks and stacks of letters, and objects wrapped in cloth. Yet, stepping through the bodies that were strewn across the cavern like a maze, morbid was the one of the only thoughts she could have. She wondered if the bodies bothered her; she never seemed to look down at them. The liner hurts her eyes, and she struggles not to blink. Meant to be there, looking like that.
Oh, her face hurt. She wipes at her eyes and frowns at the black that comes away on her fingers. No response. And sometimes in the afternoons. The thought nagged at the corner of her mind, prickled at the skin on the back of her neck. Looks up when he says to look up. So she went to the right. This is a dream.
W-what is she giggling over And on her leg. She was careful not to disturb them, shivering ever so slightly at all the empty eyes gazing up towards nothing. That was embarrassing. The Arlessa of Amaranthine. He made a noise as they came loose and she shivered. Then he leaves her, moves around the room as she tries to see some patterns in the stones on the wall.
The powder makes her sneeze. Inara blushed something fierce denerim she tried not to look Leliana in the face, but she was certain her smile said enough. His hair shines. In the center of the room, though, the brazier was dark, the logs arranged inside still glowing faintly. And in the morning. She puts her arm through his. Darker Shadows. The girls and he made eye contact, and they giggled more. Fiona, it was rumored, had been enchanted somehow into this agreement, perhaps, from what it sounded.
Tropes present in this fanfic include:
Black velvet suits him well and cuts clean across his chest. The village was closed off; monsters or something at the gates, but no one could get close. Silver on his shoulders, across his waist frame his features in a way that makes him look strong.
The glass bumps off the floor, the ice makes a noise sharper than her nail on the glass. And so, Unlucky Asshole Three ended up a corpse behind the Redcliffe Chantry just two days after that horrible morning.
It had somewhat soured their relationship, going from believing that he was a new type of Darkspawn and a symbol of hope, to realizing the truth. The carpet was warmer.
To her right, firelight danced dimly across the wall above the stairs. She kept her voice soft, but was afraid for a long moment after speaking that perhaps it could not be heard over the thundering of her heart in her chest. Posted 3 months ago 4 notes via Ina fics drabbles.
What makes this one different? He was still quite disheveled, and there were a few marks on his neck that Inara recognized from flashes of heated memories. She helped him unwrap the fabric, rolling the soiled cloth as it passed between his hands across the over of him and hers across his back. Her footsteps were too loud for comfort though her feet were bare.
As she stuffed clothing and weapons into a sack, she could feel him staring at her with That Look on his face, and she had no desire to face it head on, at least for now. Nothing you should concern yourself with. The girls giggled just as Alistair came in the room. She was careful not to let her irritation creep into the curves of her face. And why does it warrant giggling? Maybe not. If he heard denerim, it did not interrupt his careful writing. Through the unrepaired stretches of still-scorched wall, rain poured in, wet the stones and pooled like blood there on the floor. After the horrific, random Darkspawn attack that had killed the last party that wandered out to murder Tranquil in the forest, the disappearance of Tranquil from the village had slowed some, but Inara was sure that would not last too long in an invading foreign shadow who had, more or less, conquered Redcliffe in the middle of a cataclysm.
She tries not to think about it.
The look Inara levels at the Warden-Commander answers his question, though she does not care to draw it out to see the expression on his face deepen with concern. Posted 2 days ago 8 notes via.
See, that’s what the app is perfect for.
Seranni, however, moved around the edge of the room as Inara moved forward, as if moving to intercept her. He seemed… disappointed, or disapproving, but not quite as severe as she had first imagined. The Hero of Ferelden. Keep reading. The War Table meetings always left Inara with more questions than they started with.
Posted 3 months ago 3 notes via Ina fics drabbles. She picked at the plate that Teagan had saved for her there on the table, shoving little bits of cheese and fruits into her face like that might make the heat in her cheeks fade.
Not a shadow one, anyway. She bites her lip and stares hard at the wall while he wipes at her cheek with a thumb. His breath hesitates for just a moment, and her heart sinks deeper in her chest. Her voice echoed down the cold stone corridor. He sighs heavy through his nose, and she can see the expression on his face very clearly in her mind, so she sees no point in lifting her head to meet his gaze.
But dream had ways of seeing to such things, she supposed. Seranni was between him and her now. It was an odd thought to have in the depths of the Deep Ro, in the laboratory of an over Darkspawn who, as denerim turned out, was very likely one of the Tevinter magisters who had invaded the Golden City and doomed all of humanity to struggle forever beneath the weight of their sins in the form of the Blights.
He barely moved. A Dragon Age fanblog. Someone wasted a lot of effort painting her up.