A/N: I've been browsing through Delicious archive for dragonage_kink meme and found this prompt:

I desperately want to read a fic where Quentin gets to the afterlife, and is overjoyed to see his wife again-except she's been watching what he's been up too, and calls him a sick fuck before dumping him like a ton of hot bricks.

Well, anon, probably not exactly what you've been looking for, but I hope you won't mind too much.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, just this fanfic is completely my own fault.

Beyond the Looking Glass

Markessa was furious. Ever since she found herself in this blasted section of Fade, separated from anyone interesting, she was forced to watch her idiot of a beloved husband to do even bigger idiot out of himself.

How comes she never realized what shenanigans he could get up to?

She always knew he had been a bit soft in the head, but she would have never thought him to be actually that much of a batshit crazy; one Archdemon short of a Blight or something. Because this... well, this definitely wasn't something she would imagine him to do.

Becoming a blood mage - alright. Not the best thing to do, but still something she could wrap her head around. Start brand new and damn creepy survey in necromancy? A bit more difficult to stomach but still at least a bit understandable. But starting to butcher people, women, because they supposedly had some of her bodyparts - that definitely wasn't anything she would be willing to overlook.

Especially since he got them all wrong!

Like, her eyes. He plucked them from a dead body of a woman who had such a washed-out shade of blue eyes. Her eyes had been crystal-clear blue colour, by Andraste's holy knickers.

Or her body. She sure didn't have such narrow hips or small boobs. No, no, no. She was the perfect figure from the old art - big boobs, slim waist, wide hips - perfect hourglass figure.

Or her legs. Hers were much better shaped.

And do not even get her started on the hands he picked up. She saw what he wrote to his journal. I saw her hands. Long, slender fingers. Fair skin—the hands of a lifelong scholar. Oh, to lock my own clumsy fingers in hers again... 'Well,' she thought, 'keep it up, Quentin, and you'll have a doll with all the wrong parts.'

She almost cheered for the woman who destroyed his laboratory in search for the last woman he picked, supposedly for her face. Markessa thought that at least one part of her body looked like her, even if she didn't have so many wrinkles. And then the woman yelled, there had been lots of blood and Quentin was dead.

Oh, she was so looking forward seeing him again. Because making this joke of his wife had been definitely the final straw that broke the camel's back. She just hoped that there were divorces possible here in the Fade, since divorce will be the only thing he'll get from her.

Love being the strongest force in the universe.

Blah.

Love could be the strongerst force in the universe - but still could carry you only so far.