#Aluriel Ivara

[silent-of-spirit]

Eyyy so I am toying with an idea that will likely turn into shameless smut but I want opinions before I continue. Hmm hm hm. (Not edited. Errors likely.)

Aluriel x Solas

“Ar lath ma,” he whispered, cursing himself for how lost the words sounded. But was he not lost? She had ensnared him, body and soul. It never should have been... it changed things – but he knew he couldn't let it. Fate was a cruel mistress. That she should appear here, of all places... of all times. Why? When he had so much yet to accomplish? How was he to resist when already he had began to succumb?

“Then stay,” she said, the gentle lilt of her voice both soothing and entirely frustrating all at once. If only she knew how he wanted to. He felt her draw near behind, breath hitching at the realization. He needed to go. He needed to -

“I shouldn't,” he replied, forcing the words past his lips. Every part of him rebelled against it.

“Why?” Her voice was soft, patient.

It wouldn't be right. The thought sprang into his mind, unbidden, but he would not give it voice. He scrambled for any excuse to give, but found none. Her quiet laughter startled him somewhat, and he turned to find her sparkling eyes upon him, a small smile resting on her lips.

“You deprive yourself of so much just to maintain some semblance of control,” she said, voice holding something like wonder. “Even your fury is carefully controlled. I wonder if you ever truly relinquish it?”

“I can't afford to.” Not a lie. He wished he could tell her why. He longed for it. Hiding the truth from her perceptive mind was difficult in a way he could hardly understand, as every part of him rebelled against hiding at all. But she would not understand.

“No?” A delicate brow raised, and her smile turned to a smirk as she reached for him, trailing her fingers down the length of his jaw. Her hand withdrew as he clenched, unable to quell the reaction such a simple touch had spurred. “Then I suppose I should take it as a compliment that your control always wavers so much in my presence.” She backed away, offering him space as she lowered herself into the chair by her desk. But still he could feel her gaze even as he forced his own away, could feel the knowing smile that rested firmly on her lips. Foolish, he supposed, to hope she wouldn't have noticed.

“A testament to my comfort when you are near,” he responded after a brief silence, slightly shocked at how easily the confession slipped off his tongue.

“And yet I would see the shackles of your self control cast away. Is that wicked of me?”

Her question caught him off guard, and his breath hitched. He turned his eyes toward hers, assessing him with patience. She maintained their distance. His mouth felt dry, and he was at a loss of how to respond.

“No,” he finally croaked, clearing his throat immediately afterward. She smiled, and his ears burned. Damn the woman and how easily she affected him.

“Then humor me, if you will. I have a proposition.” She waited until he gave a stiff nod, then rose from her chair with the fluid grace only she could possess. “You could stay. You could relinquish your control and know the freedom of it – have a place where you could be safe to express yourself without the chains of propriety. You could indulge in the pleasures you have denied yourself, and take comfort in the knowledge that you will be cared for.” She paused, gauging his reaction. He didn't know what showed on his face, but his heart was pounding. She was asking... “You could give in to me. Or,” she smiled, “you could turn around and walk through that door. I will not stop you, and I will not question it, nor will I ever bring it up again. You have the choice. I will not push or pressure you.”

She was the very picture of regal. Her presence alone was commanding... overwhelming. Had she asked, he would fall to his knees and worship her... but she never did. She was humble and kind, patient beyond belief, and there she stood with an impossible choice. How could he walk away when he knew what awaited? Only more fervent longing, a cold and empty bed with only his thoughts of her to warm it. The control he wielded came at a price, and he wanted to see it gone – yet that part of him that warned against it again pressed at him. He had a duty, and she was a distraction as well as a threat.

And yet...

He turned to lock the door.

[5ftgarden]

Catalyst

Fenara/Solas, Anayra/Doron, Lily, Feron Charger (Iron Bull), Jethan Hareel, Anders, Aluriel Ivara, Aeda Brosca 

Later that night  

Skyhold University Hospitals and Clinics, Emergency Room / Skyhold City Police Station / Eolas Books, Solas’ Apartment 

Garden-Spirit Modern AU

Under a cut, since this got PARTICULARLY long.

@silent-of-spirit, thank you for the loan of Feron, Aluriel, and Anders :)

“What do we have Ivara?” Anders asked, running quickly next to his intern, as the ER doors opened.

“Elf Male, 35, concussion, contusions, and a nasty bilateral laceration on the chest. Assault. Elf Female, 32, right leg is dislocated. Multiple contusions, broken nose. Again, assault, at the same address. Wife and daughter of the man were treated for minor bruising at the scene and are in the waiting room,” Aluriel recited quickly as they wheeled the stretcher holding the down the hallway. “Family friend is also in the waiting room with police. Apparently he was the first one on the scene.”

“Which one assaulted the other?”

“Neither. Woman’s ex-husband attacked the family. She’s the man’s sister,” Aluriel answered. “No need for security. He’s already in custody. Apparently Charger took this case out of personal interest.”

“Well I’d hate to be him right now.”

Feron walked into the surveillance room, face dark and vaguely terrifying as he looked through the window to the interrogation room beyond.

"Out." Was all he said, quiet, but the two officers fled the room without a word. He clicked the button for the cameras, leaving the moment they flickered off. He strode into the interrogation room, tossing his jacket on the back of the opposite chair, rolling up his sleeves as he blatantly ignored the smiling man cuffed to the table.

"So's this gonna be a good cop bad cop thing? Get info out of me?" The man spat, blood and saliva landing in a glob at Feron's feet. "I ain't telling you shit."

Feron paused, gaze flicking to the man for a brief moment before he finished rolling up his sleeves. "I didn't ask you to talk." He said simply. Jethan looked confused, staring up at the hulking qunari with suspicion. "See, I have a thing about abusers, rapists, and pedophiles. You don't have to say a word. Chances are, when I'm done, you won't be able to walk. There is no good cop, bad cop, Jethan. There's only me. And I'm pissed."

“Yeah, what’s my little slut of a wife to you?” Jethan said, smirking. “You fucking her too?”

“Watch your mouth, asshole. She’s not your wife. We have the records of the divorce,” Feron roared. Jethan shrank back. “And no, for your personal question. I’m not fucking her.”

“Surprising, since who isn’t,” Jethan spat again, looking at the floor. “So what’s the deal this time? Restraining order? Lock me up for a few days?”

“30 plus years in prison.”

“WHAT?”

“Stalking. Breaking and entering. Endangering a minor. Domestic assault. Aggravated assault. Premeditated attempted murder. Terroristic threats. Breaking a restraining order. Assault with a deadly weapon. Resisting arrest-“

“I was unconscious!”

“RESISTING ARREST-“ Feron said louder. “A few counts of Battery 1… and I’m sure the DA could definitely pull up some more counts against you. And worse, you decided to make it personal with me. You know what they say. Mess with the bull…”

Jethan’s face went pale as he contemplated his situation. Feron watched him, eye narrowing. Abusers didn’t last long in prison. Less so if it was an elf.

“I want a lawyer.”

“She’s in the bathroom,” Fehron laughed. “For now, it’s just you and me.”

Lily sat in the waiting room next to Solas, her hands shaking in her lap. It had been a long time since anyone had come out and talked to them, about either her father or her aunt. The tension in her mother’s face was like a piano string about to snap, dangerous and deadly. She fought a squeak as she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Da’lan, it’s alright,” Solas soothed. “You were very brave tonight.”

“I-I know… Thanks Solas.” She hugged herself, one hand rubbing her arm where she had been hit with something. “Can I borrow your cellphone?”

“Of course. Why?”

“I have to call Grace. I-“ she paused and looked at the sleek black phone, “-I don’t really want to go into work tomorrow.”

“Ah yes. You’re welcome to spend the day at the bookshop,” Solas answered, standing up. “Would you like something to drink?” He gestured to a vending machine, flashing a few dollar bills from his wallet.

“Just… water I guess,” Lily said sheepishly. He could hear the dial tone as two sodas rocketed their way through the vending machine. “Grace? You told me to call you if there was an emergency…”

“Feron.” The petite brunette public defender eyed the qunari suspiciously. “I should have known. You want something?”

“Aeda Brosca. I knew they’d send you. How’s the family?” Feron laughed, smiling at her.

“Cut the crap, Charger. You want something. Spit,” Aeda snapped. Feron sighed.

“This guy is scum Brosca. Please do not let him get off of this.”

“Give me the details, and I’ll decide if it’s worth being disbarred.”

“Guy’s wife, Fenara Lavellan fled the reservation about a year ago to escape his abuse. Filed for divorce, got it all tidied up all nice and legal. She’s been living with her brother and his family in this little slum of an apartment down in Lowtown,” Feron started.

“Go on…”

“Their father, one of the leaders on the Reservation kept an eye on him to try to keep this asshole on the land and not looking for his ex-wife. Well he got past them. Tracked her down via social media to the apartment, broke in, slapped up his ex-relatives and put Fenara and her brother in the hospital. We’re waiting to hear on their conditions, but both will be fine thanks to a man called Solas Erelan. Runs a bookshop up in Oldtown. Family friend apparently.” He paused waiting for her reaction.

“Sounds all tied up on your end. Best I could do is get him to plead and get a reduced sentence,” Aeda thought outloud, clicking her stiletto heel against the floor. “What’s your angle on this?”

“The Lavellans are my girlfriend’s cousins.”

“Aha, and there’s the tricky bit,” Aeda laughed, flashing a devious smile.

“No, Aeda, you don’t understand. This guy has been worrying Liahra sick for as long as I’ve known her. He needs to learn a lesson. Restraining order isn’t going to cut it this time. I want him gone. For good,” Feron growled. Aeda frowned.

“Let me see the charges… Attempted murder? Even with me, there’s no way I can get him off with less than 10 years.” She tapped her heel again. “Let me see him for 10 minutes. I’ll explain the situation to him… You get off in 10 minutes right?”

“That’s right.”

“I’ll just… leave the door unlocked when I leave,” she laughed, grinning. “Go take a smoke Charger. You’ll get your hands on him soon enough.”

The waiting room emptied more and more as the night passed steadily onwards. Solas paced back and forth, the t-shirt on his chest still damp with sweat, blood, and tears. The door opening to the ward made him stop and look up, the scruffy, ponytailed doctor walking out, wiping his hands on his scrubs.

“Mrs. Lavellan?”

Anayra stood in a hurry, walking quickly up to the doctor. “Is my husband alright?”

“Yes. He’s asleep right now, and heavily sedated. Your sister-in-law is also alright. She’s awake, but is also heavily medicated. She’s in a lot of pain. I’m Doctor Anders, by the way. I’ll be taking care of both of them.” Anders stuck out his hand and shook hers. “How are you holding up? Your daughter?”

“We’re doing alright, as much as can be expected,” Anayra sighed. Lily was drifting off to sleep in the seat she had ensconced herself in hours before. “Can we see them?”

“Of course. Aluriel?” Anders yelled back towards the ward. A young elf popped her head out.

“Yes Doctor?”

“Aluriel, please escort Mrs Lavellan and her daughter back to rooms 13 and 14.”

Anayra walked over to Lily and shook her awake gently. Solas sighed and started to walk towards the door, gripping his helmet tightly. His right hand ached from where he had hit Jethan across the face.

“Messer Erelan?”

He turned at Anayra’s voice, brows furrowing. “Yes?”

“Would you like to come with us? I don’t want Fen to be alone, and, with all due respect to her, I want to stay with my husband,” she said, almost breathless.

“I- I’d like that very much.  Thank you,” Solas answered, stunned. He held his wrist out and a bright pink bracelet was snapped around it, the small elven woman leading them through the maze of the hospital. She pulled a thick curtain back and ushered Anayra and Lily inside, shutting it securely behind them.

“Miss Lavellan is right over here,” Aluriel said, sliding back the curtain. Solas nodded and ducked under the fabric, straightening in the dimly lit room. “I… I knew Fenara back on the Reservation. Thank you for saving her.”

“It was nothing,” Solas said, sitting next to the bed. Fenara’s good eye blinked open, flinching.

“Solas.” She cracked a half smile, most of her face a frozen mottled purple of brusing and dried blood.

“Hey. How are you feeling?” he asked, leaning toward her.

“I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck,” she groaned. “Meds are nice though.”

“What’s the word on the leg?”

She groaned and pulled herself upright in the bed, pulling back the sheet. Her leg was bandaged heavily with compression bandages. “They slingshotted it back into place. Knee’s sprained, so I’ll have to take it easy at work, and I’m required to take a week off so I can get these drugs out of my system, but over all, I’m fine. Thanks to you.” She smiled at him again, mussing her hair. “How long have I been out?”

“A few hours. Anayra is next door with your brother,” Solas said, passing her a cup with a straw in it. She drank it down gratefully.

“Shit. How’s Doron? Jethan slashed at him with that knife–“

“He’ll be fine. Apparently he’s still sedated, but he’s going to be fine.”

“And Jethan?” Fenara asked, her good eye widening in momentary terror.

“In custody. Likely being questioned by one ‘Feron Charger’.”

“Good.”

Aluriel came back into the room, wheeling a small cart. She smiled at her friend. “Fen, hey. We’re just about ready to release you.”

“How’s Doron?” Fenara asked, wincing as Aluriel slid the IV’s out of her hands, shuddering at the length of plastic tubing that had been in her body.

“We’re admitting him. Anayra will be staying with him. Do you have anywhere to go?”

Fenara opened her mouth before Solas cut in. “They’ll be coming back to the shop with me until the apartment is cleared by the police.”

“Good. I’ll want to get your information then Mr. Erelan. Just so we can make sure where to send the detective when he checks back in with us. Do you have a car?”

“I can be back with one in about half an hour. I need to ride my bike back and swap it out,” Solas explained standing up. “How long do you need?”

“Half an hour should be fine.”

Solas started to leave, pulling his helmet over his head, when Fenara started talking to him.

“Wait! Solas! Take Lily back with you.”

“I’ll ask Anayra quick,” Solas replied, his voice muffled by the helmet. Turning the corner fast he stuck his head in. “Anayra? Do you want me to bring Lily back to the bookshop? I need to get my car so I can take Fenara there.”

Lily looked up from where she was sitting, holding her father’s hand. Her face was tight,  and worried. “I don’t want to leave Babae.”

“Lily,” Anayra sighed. “You can’t stay. And you need your sleep. You have to take care of yourself to take care of your father.”

“Yes Mamae.”

Solas took the girl’s hand and led her out of the back room and into the parking lot, reaching into the back of his bike and pulling out a spare helmet. “Here. You know how to ride?”

“I’ve ridden Fen’s Vespa,” Lily replied, pulling the helmet over her head. She flipped the visor up and looked at him. “It’s not that much different, right?”

“A little bit different. You’ll want to hold on.”

Lily nodded and flipped the visor down, waiting for Solas to climb onto the bike before she climbed on behind him, hands on his shoulders. The bike roared to life and squealed out of the parking lot, taking back roads and alleyways back to Oldtown.

“So you have a bike and a car?” Lily yelled over the engine. Solas nodded.

“Yes. Do you want to come back to the hospital to pick up Fenara with me, or do you want to stay at the shop?” he yelled back, taking a sharp left down a dimly lit path, turning back onto a main road.

“I’m not sure!” Lily yelled again. “I’ve never seen where you live!”

“It’s just above the shop! Don’t worry!”

They stopped smoothly at the back entrance to the shop, the little weathered door sparkling in the light misty dew of the oncoming morning. Lily hopped off and pulled off the helmet, handing it back to Solas. He pulled off his own and locked up the bike, motioning to a small garage just off the alleyway.

“Car’s in there. Come on in the back and we’ll get you settled in.”

The door opened with multiple clicks, and it opened to the darkened, but recognizable backroom of Eolas books. He opened another door, turning locks and revealing a dark, narrow staircase. Lily started climbing, a little apprehensive.

“Just up there!” Solas yelled up. “I’ll be up in a second!”

Lily climbed up to the second floor, gasping in surprise as it opened into a spacious apartment. It was almost a perfect opposite of the shop downstairs. Where the shop was warm, dusty, and cluttered, the apartment was stark white with art  hanging on the walls, and modern, but comfortable furniture.

“”You live here?” she asked, her mouth hanging open slightly. Solas laughed as he mounted the landing.

“Surprising, isn’t it?”

“It’s so different!”

“Yes, well, rare books are generally far more lucrative than people think. Budget accordingly and you can afford quite a bit of things that people don’t usually guess you can own. Kitchen is over there, bathroom is there. You can use the TV, and any of the gaming systems if you’d like to stay here,” Solas explained, walking back through a closed door. When he came back out, he was wearing a fresh t-shirt and had bandaged his knuckles, opening a small cabinet in the kitchen and taking out a pill bottle.

“Ibuprofen?” Lily asked, holding out her hand. Solas nodded and put two into her palm, handing her a cup of water. “Thanks.”

“I’m guessing your staying, da’lan?” he said gently, noting how shaky her hand was as she brought it to her mouth.

“If.. if that’s okay?”

“It is,” Solas sighed. “There are extra pillows and blankets in that closet. Try and get some rest. I’ll be back in about fifteen minutes with Fenara.”

He turned down the stairs, locking the doors behind him as he walked out to the garage. His car roared to life with almost as much fervor as the bike, but coasted through the city streets like a ghost. He pulled up silently in front of the hospital, leaving it running as Fenara was wheeled out of the waiting room by Aluriel.

“Ready to get out of here?” Solas asked, opening the passenger door. They started to adjust the wheelchair to slide Fenara in, a few prescription bottles thrust into his hand.

“Make sure she takes at least a few of these,” Aluriel groaned, helping Fenara shift into the passenger seat. “I know her. She won’t if she thinks she can get away with it. And don’t let her go back to work for a few days. She’s had some pretty serious pain medication in her system and it needs to clear before she gets back on that moped of hers.”

“Aluriel, stop worrying about me,” Fenara muttered, pulling the seatbelt around her, wincing as it pressed into her bruises.

“That’s not going to happen. I’ll message you with any updates on your brother,” Aluriel laughed, almost trying to hide the urge to cry. “And please, Mr. Erelan. If she’s not safe I’ll come after you next.”

“She’ll be safer than I’ll be,” Solas assured her, sliding into the drivers seat and slamming the door.” The passenger door slammed shut and they coasted away from the hospital. Fenara leaned back.

“You changed your shirt?” she asked, finally, looking at him in the pre-dawn light. Solas nodded.

“Didn’t want to show up again covered in your blood,” he replied, turning down a main road.

“Sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry. I’m just glad you’re alright,” Solas soothed, gently touching her shoulder. Fenara flinched, pulling away. Solas backed off. “Will you be able to get up the stairs? I can carry you if I have–“

“I can walk!” Fenara snapped hastily, immediately regretting it. “I can walk. I’ll be fine Solas. I’m guessing Lily and I will share the couch?”

Solas shook his head. “Lily gets the couch, you get the bed. I can sleep in the armchair I the study.”

“Solas, I’m not going to steal your bed from you,” Fenara complained.

“Please, allow me this one simple request, Fen,” Solas sighed. “You need to sleep so your leg will heal. Just use the bed.”

“Fine. But I still feel horrible about all this. I’ve dragged you into my mess.” Solas looked at her. She sounded as though she was about to cry. “I’m so sorry I called you. I shouldn’t- I couldn’t–“

“Fenara. I’m glad you called me. In fact, I’m elated that you called me,” Solas told her, pulling into his garage. “If you hadn’t you’d be dead, or possibly worse. I would never forgive myself if I allowed that to happen.”

“But it’s my fault,” Fenara sobbed, pressing a hand into her good eye.

“Your ex-husband’s derangements are not your fault, Fenara. I’m just glad you, Lily, and your family are alright.” Solas opened his door and got out, quickly dashing around the front and opening hers before she had a chance to protest. “The shop’s just behind us. My home is above it.”

“Where’s Lily?” Fenara sniffed, wiping her eye again.

“Hopefully asleep. Though, it looks like she might have the TV on,” Solas said, eyeing the glowing window.

“Do you have cable?”

“Yes?”

“History channel,” Fenara laughed, the sound a little pained as she limped towards the door. “Little nerd.”

“Come on, let’s get you inside,” Solas laughed back. She stumbled on the stairs, Solas’ hand automatically catching her as she fell backwards. He felt her stiffen up at his touch and moved away as soon as she was steady. “I’m sorry. I should be more careful.”

“It’s not your fault,” Fenara sighed, leaning touching the bruises on her face gingerly. Solas nodded and unlocked the doors, letting them up into his apartment.

“Lily?” Fenara called up the stairs.

“Fen! Do you need help?” Lily’s head appeared at the top of the stairs, tripping down them and hooking her aunt’s arm over her shoulders, guiding Fenara to the couch. They sat down with a thump, both looking at each other, their faces exhausted. Solas walked up after them, digging around in the closet at the top of the stairs. He tossed Lily a pillow and grabbed one for himself, walking towards a door that was seemed to be his study.

“You two settle in. Lily, Fenara is using my room. I’m going to go to bed. Just knock if you need anything”

The TV was switched off, and Fenara was dosed with her pain medication, and put to bed. Lily crawled in beside her aunt, loathe to sleep alone.  The little apartment fell into silence.

Back at the police station, the cameras flicked off as Aeda Brosca walked toward the door. Feron watched her, his eye narrowing as she let the door click, but not latch fully behind her. He could still see Jethan sitting in the room, his hands cuffed to the desk. There was a tentative knock at the door. He opened it to see the dwarf’s frown.

“Don’t fuck him up too much, Bull,” she said simply. He nodded, hiding a smile. “I need him to be fit to face the judge.”

“Don’t worry Aeda. He’ll be able to walk by the time you need him to,” Bull hummed, cracking his knuckles. He brushed past her and walked into the interrogation room. Jethan glared at Feron, still spitting blood to the side.

“So are we done? Can I go to my cozy cell now?” he asked, pulling against the cuffs. Bull started laughing. “What? You think this is funny?”

“No. That just means that I’m off the clock now,” Bull growled, cracking his knuckles again. Jethan shrank back in his chair again, now very afraid of the large, beefy qunari standing over him. “Which means I finally get to do this…”

The officers outside winced as there was a ear splitting crunch, and a pained yelp. Bull walked out, wiping his hand off. He looked at them both, the eye slitted.

“Okay boys. What happened?” he asked, letting a tinge of malice into his voice. Both officers tripped over the other.

“He- um…” “He fell!” “Yeah, he fell!”

“That’s right,” Bull said, grinning. “Now, I want that bastard frog marched to his cell on the double. I’m going to go pay a visit to the hospital, check on Mr and Mrs Lavellan. The woman was discharged and is staying at the Erelan residence with the girl. I’ll go see them in a few hours. Let them get some sleep first.”

“Yes Chief!”

Feron walked out of the station just as the sun was rising. It was a new day. But it wasn’t a good one just yet.

[silent-of-spirit]

OC Info Meme - Aluriel

Tagged by the incredible @ladylike-foxes. Thank you my love. Hmm I tag @galadrieljones, @tel-abelas-mofo, @dreadhobo, @inner-muse, @idrelle-miocovani, @5ftgarden, @thevikingwoman, @bearly-tolerable @shift-shaping annnnd anyone else who wants to because I am forgetting people.

Feel free to tag me multiple times. I have a lot of characters ;)

GENERAL

name: Aluriel Ivara Lavellan alias(es): Lulu (Re: Liahra) Starlight (Re: Varric, but never within earshot) The White Witch (Re: People who fear her) gender: Female age: 30 - 32 at the time of Trespasser date of birth: Dead of winter place of birth: Somewhere in the Frostbacks spoken languages: Elvhen, Common, Orlesian, some Tevene and some Antivan sexual preference: Straight occupation: First of Clan Lavellan, Dalish Ambassador to the Inquisition, Advisor of the Inquisitor, Healer, Scholar (Canon Verse) Healer, Priestess, First Acolyte of the Oracle (Roman AU) Ballerina, Medical Resident (Modern AU)

APPEARANCE

eye color: Pale Blue-Grey hair color: SIlvery-White height: 5’ 10” scars: Only those within her mind and heart burns: no overweight: no underweight: yes

FAVOURITE

color: Blue hair color: Doesn’t care eye color: Doesn’t care music genre: Classical movie genre: Classics tv show: Soaps (She will NEVER admit it) food: A good stew drink: Tea. Tea tea tea. Green tea, black tea, white tea, TEA book: Any and all texts relating to the Elvhen Empire. Texts on magical theories and applications through history. Texts about the Fade and all studies related to.

HAVE THEY

passed university: Doctorate (Modern AU) had sex: Yes had sex in public: Yes gotten pregnant: Yes kissed a boy: Yes kissed a girl: Yes gotten tattoos: Yes (June Vallaslin) gotten piercings: Yes had a broken heart: Yes been in love: Yes stayed up for more than 24 hours: Yes

ARE THEY

a virgin: N a cuddler: Not particularly (except with Solas) kisser: Yes scared easily: No jealous easily: No trustworthy: Yes. dominant: Yes submissive: No in love: Solas single: Debatable

RANDOM QUESTIONS

have they harmed themselves: No thought of suicide: Yes attempted suicide: No wanted to kill someone: Yes drove a car: Yes (Modern AU) have/had a job: Yes have any fears: Yes

FAMILY

sibling(s): Brother Davean (Deceased) [Dah-vay-ahn] parents: Mother Nyala (Deceased) [Nee-ah-lah], Father Dantesh (deceased) [Dahn-tesh] children: None. It is unsafe for her to bear children. pets: A wisp named Luna (Canon-Verse and Roman AU) A super fluffy Samoyed named Lady (Modern AU)

[silent-of-spirit]

“Vhenan,” he says, a plea, a prayer.

“That is not my name.” The barest whisper of a breath, weighted with sadness and all that she had lost. So much. Too much. “My name,” she begs – but she never begs. Asks, takes, stoic ice and quiet command, demanding respect without a word. She just is – but she never begs.

“My name,” she says again, and it is the sound of a broken beast, howling the loss of its spirit. Wrenching. Horrifying. Devastating.

He cannot say it. To force it past his lips would be to admit she was real, this was real, and how could he -

She was some wayward imagining of a lonely soul that cried for comfort. A symbol. She was never real to him – except she was and how -

She was depth and memory, feeling and living and real but she wasn't, but she was and how desperately he wanted things to be different.

He was only a wolf, lost and wandering the roads of time, of mistakes and curses and what if I had done it differently? Alone, always alone – a choice.

And she?

She was the moon. Oh how she drew him with only a glance, a light and friend on the darkest roads he walked – illumination on his wearied soul. A guide, clarity, wisdom, his, but not.

“Vhenan,” he chokes – she is not real. This is not real.

“That is not my name.” But it is.

“It is what you are.” So real. It changes everything.

“But it is not my name.”

But it can't.

[silent-of-spirit]

Got the Descent a while back, but never got the chance to play it. Ran it for the first time on my lovely Lulu <3 Many feelings were had...

Bonus Aluriel not too sure about trying the Antaam Saar (Not pictured: Solas with a raging nosebleed)

[silent-of-spirit]

104. That's right, you heard me.

OKAY WELL JOKE’S ON YOU CUZ ONE OF MY BABS ACTUALLY LIVES THAT LONG MUAHAHA! Also drabble instead of a simple event because Aluriel and Solas just draw out the drabbles in me. They are so horribly tragic and my angsty fingers just can’t resist.

She counts each year with further bitterness, wandering this new world alone. What ties can she make when the years have not touched her, and she watched her friends fade with age until they had gone? Venalya had lived the longest, stubborn still even on the brink of death - but it has been twenty years since even she passed.

Why is the question forever on her tongue, in the forefront of her mind, torturing her with knowledge she would never have.

Taunting.

Infuriating.

Was it the healing magic that coursed through her veins? A school she had always been a master of, now strengthened without the barrier of the Veil to impede her magic? She could think of nothing else.

Well… save one.

Her fingers trace the lines on her face, long since erased from her skin. She can still remember the pain of their application with such clarity. She had earned her vallaslin, each moment of sharp pain also a lance of pride through her chest. She had earned them.

But even more vividly she remembered the moment they were taken from her.

“Cast your spell. Take the vallaslin away.”

Pride. She had refused to keep the marks that painted her a slave. They had become only shame in the span of a breath. A blight upon her skin.

Now, she wishes she had kept them. Those marks - the only tie she had to a people now gone. She is yet a slave to time, to fate, to circumstance, and she craves the hollow comfort they would have offered. A reminder.

What spell did you cast, Wolf? You would yet see me suffer further heartache as you, too, vanish from this world that you brought into creation.

Why?

She is one hundred and four when she passes through the woods that were once her home, a wraith, a ghost, a memory. The only one left.

She is one hundred and four when she sees the wolf watching her through the trees, too large, too still.

She is one hundred and four when the wolf becomes a man and her heart threatens to pound through her breast as he approaches.

She is one hundred and four when he speaks, a voice she thought never to hear again, a word that nearly brings her to her knees.

“Vhenan.”

Send me an age, and I will respond with the most prominent event of my muse/s at that age!

[silent-of-spirit]

They are so gross. Help me I love them. Ayyy look who’s replaying her Solavellan playthrough.

Solas x Aluriel Ivara Lavellan, Dalish ambassador to the Inquisition.

[silent-of-spirit]

Greetings, sweetie! Charoite?

Ooooh that’s a good one!!! Thank you so much love

Charoite: Who does my muse look up to?

Liahra: She actually looks up to Cole a great deal. Spirit though he may be, he is what she aspires to. He lightens people’s minds, brings comfort and hope, and heals old wounds. She always tries to do the same, but often feels she falls short. He would tell her that she already does.

Aluriel: Madame Vivienne is who she looks up to. She is effortless grace with a core of sharp steel, unyielding in the face of all opposition. She is clever and cold, and commands respect without even trying. But yet beneath that is softness and frailty that only the closest to her ever get to see. She admires the woman and tries to learn what she can to embody much of the same.

[silent-of-spirit]

10 and 22 for both!

By both, I will assume you mean my main babes that I write about the most, Aluriel and Liahra. Thank you so much love! Doing this for the canon-verse~

Uncommon OC Questions

Liahra Lavellan

10. What lie do they most frequently remember telling? Does it haunt them?

“It’s fine.” The words fall so frequently from her lips that she almost forgets they are a lie at all. Don’t let them get to you, she thinks, smothering hurt with smiles and jokes and insistence. “It’s fine,” As Ellania and Tamlen go off to hunt without her, sick in her bed. “It’s fine,” she says as panic grips her heart and tears threaten to spill, Tamlen is gone and Ellania is dying, whispering apologies. “You’re fine, it’s fine,” Wishing, wanting, desperate for it to be true and knowing it couldn’t be. “It’s fine,” as Ellania is taken away by a Warden claiming to have a cure for her illness, watching as the sister of her soul walks away, forever away, sparing one last glance over her shoulder and mouthing “I’m sorry.”

“The Hero of Ferelden, she was from your clan was she not?”

“Sisters in all but blood.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” with a tight lipped smile and a lance through her heart. “It’s fine.”

22. How does jealousy manifest itself in them (they become possessive, they become aloof, etc)?

Jealousy. She was never really a jealous person in the traditional sense. She did not mind if her lovers were found with another, as free with her affections as she was with her words. She knew she was loved and valued - did not need the reassurances of empty words and promises that would be broken. She wanted their happiness. In actuality she liked hearing the stories her lovers would bring back from another bed.

She remembered the first time the emotion hit her, jealousy, jealous of the way the rest of her clan could carry on as if nothing had happened, as if Ellania was not gone, not dead. She remembered the bitterness of first meeting Alistair, as broken over their warden as she was, bitterness for the man who knew the woman Ellania became, an experience Liahra would never get to have, never again. 

And later, jealousy.

Jealous of those in Haven, in Skyhold, of the way they did not carry the weight of a world on their shoulders, the way no one looked to them for every answer, answers she didn’t have and couldn’t give. Jealous of the way they were free of burden and expectation, living and loving as they saw fit. She was under a magnifying glass, every action weighted and analyzed, and she would give anything to cast it off and just be.

She withdraws, alone, wallows in her pity and overcomes. She always does.

Aluriel Ivara Lavellan

10. What lie do they most frequently remember telling? Does it haunt them?

“You are a child!” Words hastily spoken in a rare moment of anger, snapping under the sudden pressure of becoming First after Merrill was sent away to another clan to become theirs. Snapping under the weight of a Warden that would never come home, under the weight of the grief her dearest friend carried so profoundly that it was like an open wound.

Words spoken to the sister, the blood of the woman who was gone, lashing out in fury and heartbreak. Venalya.

If she had not said those words, would she have run away? Would she have been kidnapped by those men and brutalized, carrying the scars on her pretty face to this day? Even now she can hardly stand to look upon that face for the guilt that sears her like a brand.

22. How does jealousy manifest itself in them (they become possessive, they become aloof, etc)?

Oh, how she wears jealousy like a skin, though tries not to let it show. How can one person carry the burden of a leadership they did not want so effortlessly? So many look to Liahra for guidance and clarity, and so easily she offers it with a smile while aware of the weight her words. How simple she makes it seem, never showing how much it affects her. How Aluriel wished she could be the same. Jealous of The Fade of all things, how easily it draws the attention of the man she did not mean to love. Would she ever be able to draw him the same way?

And after he had gone, jealousy at the love her friends had found, pure and unwavering. It draws out a bitterness that she’d hoped to never possess, withdrawing into her own personal world even more than she already had.

[silent-of-spirit]

Can I have a Solavellan tickle fight-gone-real-fight?!

@dadrunkwriting

Hoo boy. HOOOO BOY. Tweaked for mass heartbreak, as per request. HOO BOY. My heart hurts. Most of it under cut for length.

Solas x Aluriel

Post-Trespasser

It flits across her memory at times,his laughter- joyous and abundant, but only with her. They always lettheir reservations fall away when in the presence of each other…free to be their truest selves.

Or- shewas her truest self. He had always kept secrets, locked from hereyes, but never from her knowledge. She knew he hid from her, thoughnot to what extent. She wished his betrayal tainted her memories ofhim- but they could not. She had never felt such a sense of rightthan when she was beside him, her doubts fading away into perfectclarity. There had been many things she was unsure of, but neverthat. Never him.

Shewished…

Sheremembered when he had discovered she was ticklish- eyes wide at thesqueak that fled her lips at his accidental contact, then thedevilish smirk. He dove after her, expertly catching her around thewrists despite her attempts to evade him, taking advantage of theopening to coax more laughter. He had laughed too, as lost in thesilliness as she was. It was one of her brightest memories of themboth, how she had turned the tables and captured him in return, howplayful laughter had morphed into sweet sighs and the slide of theirbodies.

Butthat was so long ago now, and there was nothing sweet left- onlybitterness and pain. He left a hole in her heart that time could notfill, and now she was cold.

So cold.

Liahrahad tried to redeem him, but he would not be won over- resolute inhis plan. So many had suffered, had died, had burned,but they were not people to him.

Alurielcould not find it in her heart to hate him for it, no matter how shetried. Oh, but she wanted to.

Andnow she lay in her tent, sleep evading her as she agonized overmemories of better times, knowing they would never be again. TheInquisitor and her armies would face him tomorrow, and Aluriel wouldbe by their side, bent on taking down the man she loved.

Still, even now.

Sheclosed her eyes against the tears that threatened, and waited.

Whenthe horn sounded, she was already strapped into her armor, sharpeningthe blade on her staff with a singular mind. They march, and shegrows colder still, not allowing herself to feel for these waywardchildren of The People, fooled into thinking destruction was the wayback to greatness.

Deceiver.She tries to tell herself, but the word rings hollow. She blinks backtears.

Therewas a burst of fire, the field around them erupting into heat andash, and she doesn’t have time to think, to feel,she only acts, collapsing against her staff as the conjured blizzarddoes its work. It was difficult to breathe, her vision blurry, butshe sees the glint of golden armor and she knows.

“Solas.”His name is barely a whisper, stolen by the biting wind, and shestraightens. He is looking at her, tall and proud against the newsnow, and she pushes herself upright, clutching her staff withshaking hands. Then he is gone, back turned as he retreats from hersight.

“Fen'Harel!”She screams, suddenly finding the energy to pursue. She weavesthrough the combatants, unseeing, her eyes fixed on the gleam of hisarmor, the pride in the straightness of his back. She hates it. Shehates him, but… shedoesn’t. She can’t.

Hewon’t turn- he won’t lookat her, still walks away, forever away as he has already done twice.She will not allow him to do so again. She flings a bolt of ice athis back, sharp and glassy, screaming in frustration as it iscasually tossed to the side.

But hestops.

Shegrasps at the mana in her veins, shoots another, again tossed to theside before it reaches him. She drags in a ragged breath, reaches,and sends a volley, pressing forward even as each falls to the earth.

Finally-finally, he turns, metwith tears of anger and a face so hauntingly familiar and precious,it makes him ache. She is dragging, the power that she unleasheddraining her energy, but still she comes. She swings her staff, ablow easily sidestepped, and she screams again. She doesn’t knowwhere she finds the energy, but she swings again, pushing him backeven as he dodges every blow.

“Fightme!” Her voice is ragged, a pained edge to it that is impossible toignore. “Fight me, coward!”She screeches, calm facade only a distant memory. Now she is fire,vengeance, fury.

Sheslips and he falters just for a moment, but it is enough. He feelsher weave the fade around her fingertips just before she presses himback, back, back, collidingwith the trunk of a tree so hard it knocks the breath from his lungs.Her magic holds him there, feet dangling, the pressure on his throatonly slack enough to allow him breath.

She isshaking as she approaches, whether from exhaustion or adrenaline, heis unsure. There are tracks through the dirt on her face, tearsfalling where she could no longer hold them back.

“Fen'Harel.”She gasps, then laughs, breathless and a little wild. “We meetagain.” She lifts her staff, blade poised at the side of his neck,but stops. She closes her eyes, face contorting in agony, and againshe tries to press it forward, faltering at the last moment.

“Vhenan.”He says softly, sees her shudder.

“No.No.” She says shakily. “Don’t you dare.” Her voice cracks, rawemotion lacing every shuddering breath. He can feel where the bladerubs against his skin, trembling and unsure. “Don't” She saysagain, nearly sobbing it. Neither of them know for whom the word wasmeant.

He canhear it whistling through the air before he sees it, but he cannotstop it, eyes widening in horror as the arrow pierces her armor.

No.

The staff fallsfrom her hand, the other losing the grip on the magic that bound him.

“No!” Hebellows, catching her as she falls to her knees.

She laughs- abroken, wet sound that sends his heart plummeting. Her eyes are uponhis, large and sad and afraid, and again he could see thequestion there.

Why?

“Solas.”She whispers, voice pained. She touches his cheek with a tendernesshe had thought long forsaken. “I would have followed you.”

Thewords tear at his soul, a truth he had always known. He pushed her tothis, made her think this was the only course. His love had damnedher, and himself in the process. He can’t find the words to beg forher forgiveness in her last moments, a forgiveness he knows he doesnot deserve. He begs whatever powers still exist to spare her thisfate. He would give anythingto see her from his arms, safe and whole.

Please.

Hecannot stop the tears that fall, uncaring of the opinions of thosewho follow him. His heart lay in his arms looking up at him withthose eyes full of starlight, luminous and lovely, and he is lost.

“Iknow.”

[silent-of-spirit]

@ladylike-foxes and @tel-abelas-mofo *whispers* Have some Solavellan feels, courtesy of yours truly.

aka- My take on Crestwood: A short snippet

Most likely garbage, but I was having Solavellan feels today and needed to get them down.

Aluriel x Solas

Beautiful. She was at last free from the chains of the vallaslin that bound her, and she looked upon him now, shy and wanting- offering everything she had within herself to give. There was such love in her gaze- a devotion he did not deserve. Even as he faltered to find the words to tell her the truth, he was lost in her, and the words became even harder to grasp.

It was not of fear of her rejection- but rather, a fear of the acceptance he knew she would give, unequivocally. She would follow him to the ends of the earth if he asked- perhaps even if he did not- but he walked the Dinan'shiral. This was not a journey he would see her take, no matter how his heart protested.

He pulled her to him, pressing his lips to hers in a fevered attempt to convey the feelings he could not otherwise express. She would not understand. He cradled her face in his hands, wishing, wanting, hoping- daring to gaze a moment longer at this woman of moonlight sent from the heavens for him alone.

And yet.

“I can't.” He nearly choked on the words, forcing them from his lips as he pried himself away. The brief look of astonishment on her face gave way to confusion. She reached for him, a desperate attempt to understand, and the pain that flitted across her face when he stepped away hit him like a physical blow.

“Solas.” She said gently, hand aloft in the empty space between them. She was searching his face, his eyes- grasping for reason behind what she could not accept to be true.

“I'm sorry.” He exhaled on a shaking breath, and she was gone- retreated behind the wall of ice that she had spent her life constructing. The creature of warmth and depth that he had come to know was again hidden from sight- and it hurt him more than any word or blow could ever hope to. He had dismantled those walls despite knowing he should not. He watched as the cold melted away and revealed the beautiful spring of her heart beneath- her true heart, shown, given, only to him. Now her eyes were not of starlight, but glittering ice- sharp and jagged and cold.

It tore him apart.

The pain ripped through him, white-hot and agonizing. All he could see was that grave in the Fade, her deepest fear etched into the stone.

Betrayal.

He agonized, knowing that this was better than watching her burn on the path he was forced to walk. She had a chance at a life this way. She could find some small measure of happiness. He never should have indulged his want of her- it was selfish, and now he was faced with the reality of it staring him in the face and asking why. He turned away.

“Solas.” She said, an edge to her voice. “You do not get to walk away from this so easily. Look at me.” She was regal, commanding- the leader she was meant to be in another life. A queen. A goddess. She took a step toward him, hands clasped firmly in front of her. “Tell me you do not care. Look me in the eye and say the words.” His gaze fell. “Look at me!” She said sharply, the command in her tone leaving no room for argument.

He met her eyes, saw the pain shining just beneath the surface of the ice there. “ I cannot.” She had always been the embodiment of wisdom, forever trying to glean what truth and knowledge she could- evident even now as she searched him for some glimmer of understanding.

Then why?

She never had to say the words. He knew. She instead nodded curtly

“Then there is nothing more to be said.” She whispered before turning and striding from the cave, a gust of cool air and the billowing of her robes the only sound remaining. He turned his face to the sky, allowing himself the tears that ran freely down his cheeks as he looked upon the moon, so like her.

I cannot allow you to follow me on this path, vhenan. I would see you free from such burden.

I am sorry.

He fell to his knees.

[silent-of-spirit]

I saw people doing the Polyvore thing so I thought I would try some for the Garden-Spirit modern AU for my girls. *Runs and hides*

@5ftgarden

Aluriel is a busy, busy bee so she is nearly always in her ballet rehearsal clothing. She often goes right from rehearsal, to school, to work, so comfort is mandatory for her. Makeup is also big for her, and she spends a fortune to find makeup that lasts virtually forever, as she has no time to fix it through the day.

Brionna, as an artist and a baker, has a very whimsical style. She adores pastels and frequently makes her own jewelry, often shopping at thrift stores. She is never without her hat and her bag, both of which she salvaged and made her own.

Ellania is a workaholic, and as such, she will usually wear her professional clothing day-to-day. She goes for simple elegance and versatility nearly always. She favors earthy tones and dusky pinks.

Liahra has a VERY Bohemian vibe. She adores jewelry that jingles and loves pops of jewel tones, especially turquoise. She favors flowy clothing, soft and light and comfortable. She very rarely wears makeup, but can never be found without chapstick in her bag.

With Talyn being blind, this was extremely difficult. As she can’t see, she focuses primarily on textures when shopping (And her roommate and best friend, Aluriel, helps her coordinate colors.) She likes dresses that are soft and flowy, and prefers leather jackets with fun texture details. She always wears sneakers and spends a lot of money on good perfume to always smell nice.

I think Ven is pretty self-explanatory. Lots of leather, even more black, and 3/4 of the shoes she owns are boots. She has a very dark witchy sort of vibe.

[silent-of-spirit]

WHICH MAJOR ARCANA ARE YOU?

I was tagged by @galadrieljones. Oh my gosh this is one of the coolest things ever?? Thank you!!! I shall do my two main babs.

Liahra Lavellan

The Empress

The Empress represents motherly, prosperity, creativity, sexuality, abundance, fertility and comfort which most often observed in maintaining peace. Often belongs to people of authority or wise and motherly figures.

Liahra at her core is a protector, seeking peace and safety for those she loves. She will often take care of others before she even remembers herself, much like every mother I have ever known. I think this card fits well.

Aluriel Ivara Lavellan

The Priestess

The Priestess is a symbol of hidden knowledge or other untapped power, wisdom, mystery and patience. Usually quiet, reserved, and very intelligent. Often modest and shy, and won't open up easily to others.

This is Aluriel in every way. I don’t even need to elaborate any more. This card says it all.

This is so cool!!! I wish I could tag everyone, because I love OC’s so much, but I can’t. So! If you see this! PLEASE! Do it and let me see! Also @tel-abelas-mofo, @5ftgarden, @ladylike-foxes, @thevikingwoman, @inner-muse, @makelovenotbloodmagic, @commanderlurker

[silent-of-spirit]

F E A R S

BOLD ANY FEARS WHICH APPLY TO YOUR MUSE. ITALICIZE WHAT MAKES THEM UNCOMFORTABLE.

Repost, don’t Reblog. (Whew these are heavy)

Tagged by: @tel-abelas-mofo. I will do Liahra and Aluriel because I know you like them both <3

Liahra:

the dark. fire. open water. deep water. being alone. crowded spaces. confined spaces. change. failure. war. loss of control. powerlessness. prison. blood. drowning. suffocation. public speaking. natural animals. the supernatural. heights. death. dying. intimacy. rejection. abandonment. loss. the unknown. the future. not being good enough. scary stories. speaking to new people. poverty. loud noises. being touched. sex.

Aluriel:

the dark. fire. open water. deep water. being alone. crowded spaces. confined spaces. change. failure. war. loss of control. powerlessness. prison. blood. drowning. suffocation. public speaking. natural animals. the supernatural. heights. death. dying. intimacy. rejection. abandonment. loss. the unknown. the future. not being good enough. scary stories. speaking to new people. poverty. loud noises. being touched. sex.

I tag: Anyone who wants to! I mean it! I love OCs and I want to see them all! Plase tag me if you do this so I can see <33333

[silent-of-spirit]

After some time apart, my Solasmancer and I have been reunited. Heartbreak to ensue, of course.

[silent-of-spirit]

OC Interview Meme

1. Pick an original character!

2. Fill in the questions/statements as if you were being interviewed for an article and you were the character/muse

3. Tag people to do the same: @inner-muse​, @jawsandbones​, @tel-abelas-mofo​, @obliviousoso​, @ladydracarysao3​, @thevikingwoman​, @5ftgarden​

I was tagged by @varriccallsme-foxlette​, @idrelle-miocovani​, and @5ftgarden​. Since I have so many OCs I will be doing this THREE times. Woohoo! 

Last but not least is Aluriel Ivara!

1. WHAT IS YOUR NAME?

Aluriel. At times, Lulu, though it is not my preference.

2. NO SERIOUSLY WHAT IS YOUR REAL NAME

Aluriel Ivara Lavellan, first of Keeper Deshanna Istimaethoriel Lavellan.

3. DO YOU KNOW WHY YOU WERE CALLED THAT?

It is not something I ever wondered.

4. ARE YOU SINGLE OR TAKEN?

(Silence)

5. DO YOU HAVE ANY ABILITIES OR POWERS?

I am a mage, possessing the abilities that come with that title.

6. STOP BEING A MARY SUE.

Pardon me?

7. WHAT IS YOUR EYE COLOR?

A pale blue-grey.

8. HOW ABOUT YOUR HAIR COLOR?

Silvery white.

9. HAVE YOU ANY FAMILY MEMBERS?

None still alive.

10. I SEE… WHAT ABOUT PETS?

I had an owl once. She was killed in a raid on our camp in defense of one of the children.

11. TELL ME ABOUT SOMETHING YOU DON’T LIKE.

Fire.

12.  DO YOU HAVE ANY HOBBIES/ACTIVITIES YOU LIKE DOING?

I prefer to read whenever I have a free moment. I also dance when I have the inclination.

13. EVER HURT ANYONE BEFORE?

Yes.

14. EVER…KILLED ANYONE BEFORE?

...Yes.

15. WHAT KIND OF ANIMAL ARE YOU?

Well I was given a halla mask for Halamshiral. Is that to what you refer?

16. NAME ONE OF YOUR WORST HABITS.

Why is this necessary information?

17. DO YOU LOOK UP TO ANYONE AT ALL?

I look up to Liahra and find her very admirable, though she would quickly disagree.

18. SEXUAL ORIENTATION?

I prefer men.

19. DO YOU GO TO SCHOOL?

I do not currently, though I look at everything as an opportunity for growth and learning.

20. DO YOU EVER WANT TO MARRY AND HAVE KIDS ONE DAY?

Very much... though it is not to be.

21. WHAT ARE YOU MOST AFRAID OF?

...Betrayal.

22. WHAT DO YOU USUALLY WEAR?

I actually have a fondness for the Skyhold apparel designed for Liahra. When the original design did not suit, I had it adjusted to my size instead. They are quite comfortable.

23. DO YOU LOVE SOMEONE?

...Yes.

24. WHAT CLASS ARE YOU? (HIGH/MIDDLE/LOW)

I suppose a first of a wandering Dalish clan would be considered low, though my status as Dalish Ambassador to the Inquisition may raise that. I am unsure.

25. HOW MANY FRIENDS DO YOU HAVE?

More than I would have originally thought I would.

26. THOUGHTS ON PIE?

Favorable- but only if it has blackberries.

27. FAVORITE DRINK?

There was a delightful drink served when we went to Halamshiral. It was bright and bubbly. I cannot for the life of me remember what it was called.

28. WHAT’S YOUR FAVORITE PLACE?

I prefer the seaside.

29. WOULD YOU RATHER SWIM IN THE LAKE OR THE OCEAN?

I am not a great lover of swimming at all, actually.

30. ARE YOU INTERESTED IN ANYONE?

I am.

31. WHAT’S YOUR CUP SIZE?

That is hardly any of your business.

32. WELL, WHAT’S YOUR TYPE?

My... type? Type of...?

AND WHAT ATTRACTS YOU?

Depth. Emotion. Intelligence.

33. ANY FETISHES?

Excuse me?

34. SEME OR UKE? TOP OR BOTTOM? DOMINANT OR SUBMISSIVE?

I thought the last question was far, but I was mistaken. You overstep.

35. CAMPING INDOORS OR OUTDOORS?

...I do not believe that indoor camping exists.

36. ARE YOU WANTING THE QUIZ TO END?

Considering the inappropriate turn the questions have taken, yes. Very much.