Warden N’Abjidynen listening to Morrigan/Solas talk about the Dalish, Cullen talk about Mages, and/or listening to Orlesian Nobles in genral.

When the moon fell in love with the sun All was golden in the sky All was golden when the day met the night

“No one really knows me. You know scary stories and rumors, you think what stands before is the amalgamation of all the half-remembered ghost stories, fractured rumors whispered fearfully by people whose voice shake. Demon, abomination, they call me, a ghost, a copse they mutter as they pray in the vein belief it will wash the blood from their hands. And perhaps that is all I am, nothing more than a ghost story, perhaps I don’t deserve a proper name if my existence is but a noun too vague and blurred at the edges to be proper. But if you must ascribe a name to my something so concrete to who or what I am, then you may call my N’Abjidynen Za’arslu.” 

1. "I'm sorry."
2. "That love is... It's everything. It's all of me."
3. “What am I supposed to make of that, of all the stories you tell about me, of the damned nickname, other than that I am supposed to be the world’s savior?”
4. “I chose to be by your side. I’d choose it again, in this lifetime or in any other, even if it kills me.”
5. “It’s usually best to just let him get it out of his system, and then do the reckless thing anyway.” // “You’re why I already have so many damn grey hairs.” // “I like your grey hairs.”
6. “I am what I’ve always been: a sword for someone else to wield. All that’s changed is that now it’s too broken to be worth holding.”
7. "Sometimes, peace needs to be forced."
8. "I would worship you-- all of you."
9. “Who knew a healer’s orders could sound so sexy?”
10. "It’s not… real. My body, it doesn’t feel like it’s mine. It’s just… something to give away, to make up for— for the rest of it. What’s in my head. It hurts, but I like being able to use it to help you all. To keep you all safe, to keep you fed and strong."
11. “Brooding? Is that what I’m doing? Am I brooding?”
12. "Have I earned some sort of prize for being your worst patient ever?" // "Oh, so you think I should reward you for your bad behavior?" // "Or you could incentivize very good behavior."
13. "I swore on my blade, my shield, my body, my life, that I would be of service to anyone who asked anything of me, dutiful down to the last drop of my blood, and I was so damned good at it… But no matter how much of myself I gave, no matter how much others took from me, it was never. Ever. Enough."
14. "That's what the oath is. Why I swore it, why I've kept it, it's not just important, it's everything, it's... me."
15. "I'm yours."

1. "What kind of a mage cannot heal himself?” // “A very sorry excuse for one-- the name’s Luc.”
2. “Such stunning hospitality you have here.”
3. “I don’t— I’m not— You fools see any bit of spirit magic and call it demon summoning.”
4. “Fuck your mercy!” And if he hadn’t ever really left the Circle, he had no protection left in the world but this: his rage, layered thick over his fear, goading and spiteful to the end because then maybe he could say that he was choosing this. Asking for it. “Fuck your Maker, fuck your Crown, fuck you, you shriveled old cunt, fuck—”
5. “Maker,” the word came out slurred, sobbed, an infidel’s prayer, “if you’re a demon, you’re a damn good one.” // “This is real, love.” // “That’s what a demon would say… but I don’t care anymore. Please, please just get me out of here.”
6. “It’s weird to think… It’s weird to think. About any of it. About having a future.”
7. “You’re the one who can summon demons, you might pop one out right now and give it my gifts just to torment me.” // “You know what? Now that I think about it, I do owe my dear friend Ire a birthday present.”
8. “Don’t worry, I know they only give etiquette lessons to real royalty.”
9. “Oh, let us consider the many alternatives at my disposal.” Luc barely spared the tower a glance before marching down the hill, deploying his most sarcastic voice to irritating effect. “Either I go back to the Circle and beg for Irving’s mercy, or I go back to Redcliffe to enjoy my short and disastrous career as Alistair fucking Theirin’s scapegoat, or I live my short and disastrous life as an apostate-- until, of course, the templars find me and, you guessed it, bring me back to the Circle to beg for Irving’s mercy.”
10. “Share, yeah, sharing would be… nice,” the word came out a pained, slow hissed. “One, um, super itty bitty problem. I’ve… never drunk before.”
11. “No, I’m trying this novel thing called giving a shit about the world. Makes being responsible for saving it feel less like being trapped.”
12. Luc cried, “We want this! We both want this, I want this.” What a stupid word, what a stupid feeling, a yearning so severe his heart was clawing up through his sternum to rend his chest asunder and drag Alistair inside. But it was more than that, more than him, the entire premise—promise—of having a life worth living after the Blight was running out between his fingers like water, and the harder he tried to hold onto it, the deeper his nails dug into his palms, the worse it hurt and bled. “I’ve never wanted anything in my whole life more than I want this, to live here, away from the Circle, the Chantry, the darkspawn, to be safe with you. So take it back, take it all back! Say you’re joking, and I’ll pretend this never happened, and we can just go back to the way things were before.”
13. “And here I thought the perpetual wet raccoon look was part of my charm.”
14. Mouth twisting, the elf gave his hands a few experimental shakes, then looked at the burn the rage demon had left along his calf. He bent down to pick at the charred hem of his robe before announcing, “Oh, I bet this looks sick. Does it look sick?”
15. “Can you— can you fucking stop?!” he snapped. “All this blah blah angry argh mad at the mortal world shit, it’s so ten years ago.”