#Cherry Lavellan

[beast-of-mosss]

I love giving my characters trauma related to watar

[skiitter]

Without the added context of an Inquisition playthrough, Lavellan looks borderline delusional saying that she loves Solas. In addition to the whole he lies, manipulates, and tricks Rook at every opportunity, there is also literally NO mention of this woman anywhere in his memories, regrets, fucking home base, nothing. Imagine how unhinged this comes off, especially when people like Harding also knew Solas during the inquisition and she fully hates his ass. And this is, of course, compounded upon significantly by the fuck ass way the Solavellan reunion goes.

It’s been eight (8) years and Solas is barely responsive to Lavellan. And the cherry on the shit cake is that even there, AT THE END OF EVERYTHING, she fails to convince him. THAT!!!!! THATS THE WHOLE POINT OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP AND WHY HE LEFT HER BEHIND!! SHE WAS THE ONLY ONE CAPABLE OF CHANGING HIS MIND!!!!

I am so ����😡😡😡😡😡😡

[bunabi]

I know there's so many much bigger questions to be answered in DAVG but I'm actually half terrified about the new game because there's a chance I'll find out the fate of a PC and/or their LI and if it's bad news, I don't know . . . Like at this stage, I'd rather they not mention them at all so I can pretend they're safe. Is this remotely logical? No, but I'm so nervous.

I'm having the opposite problem lol I am excited for my government mandated Solavellan closure content to get here so everyone can move on and focus on what really matters: Solas x Zathrian yaoi

since DA is choice-driven and everyone's saves are different, think of it like this: you can do whatever you want with your worldstates

whatever conclusion you want for your characters you can have them, they just won't be affirmed by the canon

I've spent the past ten years making fanwork & building characters with @strawberrynoir, taking our Lavellans on adventures, brainstorming life after Kirkwall for Anders & her Hawke, and so many things

at this point the games themselves are just the cherry on top of a much bigger experience for me

basically: don't worry too much 😅 whatever happens happens

[secret-smut-sideblog]

The Dove

Lavellan x Blackwall

18+ fantasy racism, death, explicit violence, implied abuse, fear, tenderness, injury, hurt/comfort, fingering (f!), oral (f!), p-in-v, unprotected sex

Using the full force of her foresight and the strife within decisions made, Celene's Grand Ball proves to be bloodstained and venomous. Leaving Vella exhausted to old and new injuries, tenderly caught by his soft love...

Masterlist, Prev Chapter

-

"And now, presenting..."

Blackwall leaned low into her ear.

"If you are... underdressed under that cloak, please warn me now."

Vella slid him a teasing salacious smile.

"Grand Duke Gaspard De Chalons, and accompanying him..."

"Maker, Vella..." He sighed, giving her a knowing glare.

"Lady Inquisitor Lavellan!"

"That's my cue, take my cloak, will you?" She purred, pulling her arms behind her back. Dropping her shoulders to let the heavy fabric fall.

As she stepped forward, Blackwall's breath choked, followed by a rattled sigh. The sweetest sound to her entrance. Striding forward with dark cherry red silk trailing her silent step. Gasps of shock risen on balconies.

The dress had, naturally, been Leilana's idea.

The agreed upon silhouette of Orlesian dress was a structured bell with layered fabric and steel boned corset.

The garment that Josephine had brought to her, special made by a seamstress who must've had a terrible amount of amusement fulfilling, was all draped fabric.

Falling from her hips slick as oil, the plunging back tight to her waist and draped on the sides by bishop sleeves. Only girded by featherbone stays with rich indigo beading, matching the traditional Dalish boots that Blackwall had sewn her. The silhouette was all her, only partially hidden by the heavy drape of a shoulder cape, the red and blue of her entourages color coordinated uniform. The cape hung over her left shoulder, leaving her marked hand to only tantalizing glances.

"Nothing makes one more desirable company quite like tasteful scandal." Vivienne appraised the dress, running a finger over the high neck.

"Yes, a beautiful woman who steals the show and clearly holds thinly veiled contempt for the whole affair? They'll be staring like awestruck children." Dorian's eyes glittered with delight.

It certainly appeared to be working.

Vella strode with cold grace. This ball, this whole disgustingly ornate mansion, was beneath her, and she made little effort to hide it. Moving with the momentum of her hips. Letting uninterest carry on her face under her black blindfold.

By the time she reached the stairs, a quiet murmur surrounded like insect song.

Unbothered, she stared up at Empress Celene. Giving a graceful bow instead of the glare her heart called for.

Gaspard's shit eating grin was barely hidden under his ornate mask. Clearly pleased with the devious spectacle of it all.

After all the indulgent pleasantries were exchanged, Celene stared down her nose at her.

"You've certainly come dressed outside of our custom. Is this Dalish fashion?"

Vella laughed lightly behind her left hand, the gash of green light pulsed deep between bone. All eyes on her.

"Certainly not! I'd be wearing much less your Highness."

"Is that so? I'd be a shame if you couldn't see the decor beyond that blindfold."

"Oh, I can see everything I intend to."

The silver glow of her eyes shielded behind the molded black mask. Tied behind the fall of her golden hair with long silk.

The court was quiet in rapture within their exchange.

The whole of them laid out to her. All she needed to know unfurled behind the curtain of her mind. Bordering on overwhelm that she would need to muffle soon. The rolled elfroot cigarettes in their gilded tin assured in the taut garter on her thigh.

The secrets of all of these hateful people displayed to her at rapid speed. Especially Celene. Simmering rage seared under her easy smile.

I know what you did.

"With your lineage, you must certainly hold opinions on Halamshiral."

How many had to burn to soothe your ego?

"Oh, it's all quite beautiful. I'm sure much thought went into the conversion of the scenery. Sculptures and hedgemazes don't sprout up as easily as the humble orchid tends to."

It was a volley of elegant strikes. Words tossed with the air of nonchalance but beheld with bated breath by their audience.

Vella may be Dalish, but she was no stranger to appeasing the sensibilities of people she hated with the whole of her chest. Years held in the gilded prison of the Chantry taught her very quick that a sweet tongue kept you some semblance of safety.

"I wouldn't imagine keeping your company from our guests any longer, Lady Inquisitor. We look forward to watching you dance."

Vella gave another gracious bow and a sweet smile to her enemy. Striding up the stairs with eyes set only on Leilana as she approached.

"Well played." She whispered as a small smile pulled her cheek. "A word, when you have a moment."

Vella nodded, her own smile already fallen. "I'm going to need a cigarette after that."

"You and me both." Leilana sighed. Stepping back into shadow.

"Please find a balcony first." Josephine urged in a quiet rush. "There's only so much rule breaking that will be taken as alluring here."

Vella cupped her cheek with a gentle hand. "You worry too much. I'm only a savage wandering the most proper of society."

The use of the hateful word was deliberate. Many eyes held on her. Their power to cut her down taken from their mouths.

"Such an awful word!" A younger woman standing at Josephine's side gasped. "I couldn't imagine anyone calling you that!"

"Then you're better mannered than most, but I would expect no less from a lady Montilyet." Her eyes burned with near constant light behind the dark shield. The torrent of Dirthamen unveiled things untold to her as cacophony she focused to discern.

"This must be her!" Yvette giggled brightly behind her hand, blush pink in her cheeks.

"Your reputation certainly proceeds you." Josephine sighed, giving her sister a soft glare. "She's been insatiable for details on... well, you."

"Josephine writes, but she never tells me anything." The sweet yearn in her voice pulled a soft smile from Vella.

She had always wanted a sister. Though she knew that experience varied wildly between siblings, the accusatory stare of endearment from Josephine made her heart twinge with things she could never know.

"What would you like to know?" She offered with a gentle laugh.

"Please don't encourage h-"

"Is it true that Dalish women dance naked under the full moon?"

"Yvette!" Josephine hissed.

"Well, I certainly do." Vella laughed.

This seemed to delight the sweet girl and got her a stern clearing of the throat from behind her. Practically feeling the heat rising up Blackwall's neck.

"My lady, would you like accompanying for some air?" He led in the monotone gruff of his voice.

The flat delivery of his words irked most but she found it endlessly endearing. Especially when her teasing or tenderness softened the cadence.

"Oh, do I need escorting?" She teased, eyeing him beyond the black mesh shrouding her eyes, only seeing the shadow of things. The dark of it staving off the near constant threat of migraine from her untethered foresight.

"We both know that you do." He tried for aggravated, but affection was thick underneath.

"Oh, and who is this?" Yvette batted her lashes at him.

"Go while you still can." Josephine urged.

"I'll find you later, Josie." Vella laughed, led forward by the small of her back through the halls to a balcony.

"You seem to have caught many young ladies' eyes." Vella teased, lifting the fall of her dress to thigh to take a cigarette from the tin.

"Vella, please..." He hissed, sliding behind her to shield the full length of her leg from view.

"Oh, let me have my fun." She shushed, bringing the cigarette between her fingers. "It's going to be all downhill from here. Damn, I've forgotten matches. Where is Dorian when you need him?"

Blackwall pulled a matchbook from his breast pocket.

"Oh, you're so thoughtful." She smiled, leaning into the flame he struck. Speaking through a contented sigh of smoke. "My savior."

"How do you feel?" He leaned down to her.

"Held together with twine and a wish." She sighed, feeling the incomprehensible barrage of information battering her mind dulling. Taking another grateful pull of burning relief.

"But I'm well stocked for tonight, don't worry." She patted her thigh. "Though, if actually do start undressing, I give you permission to tackle me."

"Like at Haven..." He sighed.

The fever of madness had always been terrible. Gods, that whole night weighed so heavy in memory. But it could only be more painful for him.

"We've never really talked about that night, have we?" She whispered, taking in his sweet eyes so creased with worry.

"No, and we're certainly not going to here." The monotone growl filled his voice again, glancing at several suspiciously still backs that had gathered.

"If one more person calls me rabbit... I suppose I should mingle." She sighed, taking a deep pull of smoke. Offering him the cigarette which he waved away, a silly ritual at this point. Another way they played. How dearly she loved playing with him.

She pinched out the cigarette and leaned in to whisper conspiratory to him.

"Don't tell anyone, but you're my favorite."

She could feel his smile as she pulled away.

"I'm going to need a dance from you, my lady!" He called as she strode back inside.

"I'll try to squeeze you in!" She chirped, biting her lip in a smile.

With her heart dizzy with love, she steeled herself to begin her rounds.

-

The loop of Vella's stride made him exhausted by proxy. With each circle, she passed his post and leaned in to leave a whisper in Elvhen. Often making him stifle a laugh.

"I hope they all choke."

"This place sucks shit."

"That's it, I'm burning it down."

"With us inside it."

He nearly laughed out loud at that last one. Having to stifle it into a cough, nodding in feigned interest at the man prattling on in front of him.

Her echoed resentment of their situation was the highlight of his night so far, but he couldn't help the prickling concern.

She had slept hard the previous night. He wanted nothing less than her to rest, but the longer she slept, the stronger her condition held. He could only imagine the sheer noise that was filling her mind.

She could only hold like this for so long before it started to burn. Until it held her down in that terrible seize. Dropping her to the floor to pull rigid as her body shut down, knocking her unconscious to protect her mind from boiling.

It made him furious how the others seemed content to let her do this. The only steadfast objectors to using her as prophet being Cole and himself.

He wasn't naive. He understood the stakes at hand. They were at war, and even a small misstep could be catastrophic. But the way the others saw her suffering as regrettable but acceptable collateral...

He knew her foresight was an invaluable asset, but Maker, how could he not worry? How could he not wish it would stop whispering madness into her, no matter the advantage?

She approached him again just as a man strode forward. Pointing at him as if he knew him. Panic rose higher and higher in his chest as this noble danced around his identity with drunken ignorance. All while she stood studying the exchange with unreadable eyes.

The other concern, the one he was ashamed to acknowledge: Would it whisper to her the truth of him?

Of course she knew he was keeping something from her. She was too clever, too attuned with other people, to not see it. To not feel it writhing under his skin.

Maker, he nearly buckled under the weight when she confessed her own crime. Kneeled cradling the flowers of her dead family, killed by men like him, then taken in turn by her. Shame so hot in his belly he almost vomited when he had a moment alone.

He had to believe he had atoned in some small way. Maker, please let him have. Please let her not be broken by him.

The man finally wandered away, and he steeled himself to dance around her question. He couldn't stomach lying to her anymore. She shouldn't love a man who lies to her.

"Someone from your past?" The gentle prod of her voice made his throat clench. So sweetly asking him to open to her. To unfold into the warm of her.

I wish I wasn't the one you love.

"Drunks think all men with beards look the same." He grunted. A statement he felt true, at least.

"Hey, I didn't know you had a medal of valor!" Her eyes brightened, so delighted to know more about him. "What is that for again?"

She leaned in that adorable way, like she was telling secrets. "I'm Dalish, fill me in."

Darling, please don't trust me. Not like this.

"Valor, mostly."

She laughed, the sound so bright.

Why did you choose me. Anyone but me.

"Fair enough."

Her demeanor fell back to solemn. Hitching her head to follow.

He nearly sighed in relief.

-

The silent sprint of her feet was the rush of wind through trees. Torn dress whipping behind her. The clash of her party at her back.

Run, girl. You're out of time.

Venatori tried to rush her, but she had already run through them. Dodging through their fingers seconds before they reached. Arrows and blades seeking to strike before she entered the fray.

The toll of bells striking. She could see the precious seconds ahead of their arrival. The pounding of her blood-soaked step a trail led in a circle of time.

Circled. All spiraled.

No, focus. You're here.

She squeezed her eyes. Leaping onto the banister invisible, she sprinted into the ballroom. Running along marble, pulling her bow from her shoulder. The sea of people gathered wouldn't see her until she struck. Ripping the arrow tied from her thigh.

Florianne stepped forward, a wicked smile on her face. Blade poised on Celene's back.

Vella notched her arrow as she slid to a knee. Drawing back in the same breath. Locked in the tunnel of her prey.

But her hand paused. Time she didn't have. Arrow poised waiting.

She saw it.

The future that Briala would bring puppeteering the hand of Gaspard. The Elven Queen in Shadow. It would bring revolution and civil war, further shattering Orlais.

But her people would be free. Free.

But only if Celene fell.

Her fingers held steady on the string.

Breath a hot wave over her lips.

You're out of time. Decide.

She clenched her jaw to ache. Leveling her sight on Florianne.

She pursed her lips and whistled death. An ancient promise of a spirit.

All heads turned up. The Elven servants gasped and covered their ears.

Florianne's gaze wavered as she froze, just as Celene began to feel the threat. Her eyes wide as the blade met her back.

Florianne's head turned.

She released her fingers.

The arrow snapped into the thin bone at her temple. Florianne's eyes rolled up into her skull as her body dropped. Several shrieks rose.

Vella's body appeared under her again. Kneeled in a torn dress and blood smeared.

Here it comes. Relax.

She let her arms fall, sighing out the tension in her body as the guards arrow ripped through her shoulder. Her drawing arm fell useless at her side.

"Good shot!" She laughed, finding the shaken guards eyes.

The pain unfurled then. Her shoulder screamed, the nerve that ran through a lightning bolt. With breath ragged, clutching the wound, she stood. Left arm tremoring uncontrolled at her side. Arrow still lodged firm under the blade of bone.

Good, it would keep her blood.

The guards swarmed around Celene, discovering the knife that had scattered out of Florianne's hand.

Vella rushed forward one last time. Dagger poised along the back of her forearm.

She drove the blade under Florianne's jaw. Straight into the base of her brain. Her body went limp and gave a few short convulsions. More shrieks rang through the air.

Good girl. It's just the muscles. They're gone.

But they shake like me.

It's mercy. You've severed their tie. They'll get to the Beyond kinder now.

Vella released the hilt. Falling to a kneel, letting her arm fall loose at her side with its twin. Gasping hard into the air with head thrown. Blood pooled up the tear of her dress.

The guards backed away from her. Celene's shaken hand gripped her good shoulder.

Vella slipped the locket into her palm as she pulled the blindfold. Celene's empty hand flew to her mouth.

As the last of the silver fell from her sight, she folded Celene's fingers over the locket.

"Find her."

-

"Twas a clean strike."

Vella smiled, her eyes meeting amber.

"The blade or arrow, Morrigan?"

"I hadn't gave my name, Inquisitor." She leaned against the balcony. "But you realize that."

Vella offered her a cigarette, which she took. Placing the tin inside her sling again. Letting Morrigan spark her fingers in flame to light both of them.

"You're left-handed. A sign of a witch." Morrigan appraised her, cupping her elbow under her breast.

"Dual-handed. Not sure what superstition that's associated with, though."

"Spirit? Siren? Shapeshifter?" Morrigan offered with a sly smile.

"How many of your clan knew about burning elfroot?" Morrigan appraised the rolled paper between her fingers.

"Not many. Our hahren had me chew bark as well."

"Smart. And this gift you have, I presume it has a price? The Pantheon does not give with two hands."

Vella laughed. She already adored this woman. They both spoke as they had known each other for a long time. Perhaps they had.

"Do you even have to ask? Though, I'd rather take a two edged gift from the gods than whatever the chantry worships."

Morrigan slowly spread a smile.

"Oh, I think you and I are to get along beautifully."

"Then you're joining us?"

"For the time being."

"Naturally. I'd never try to pin you down."

"You are sworn to another, yes?"

"I am."

"A pity." Morrigan sighed. Letting her eyes wander Vella's svelte frame. "I will find your apothecary in Skyhold. That shoulder 'tis too valuable to sqaunder. I will be eager to sate my curiosity of your... condition, upon your return. And, do try to have fun tonight. You've earned it."

"You know, I realize I never caught your name." Morrigan paused at the door.

Vella spoke in Elvhen.

"Nothing is more vulnerable than the named."

Morrigan laughed.

"Of course."

She appraised Blackwall as they crossed path. He stared hard at her in distrust, slowing his gait.

"That poor guard is still shaking. He's insistent on apologizing."

"He shouldn't." She smiled as he leaned down onto his forearms on the banister. Finally close again. "It was a clean shot. We could use another marksman."

He chuckled low.

"Celene's terrified of you now. Don't see her giving much fight to recruiting a guard."

Vella leaned her hip against the banister. Closing her eyes for a moment. A full night's sleep, wretched thing that it was, could only go so far.

"Care to share your thoughts?" Blackwall led.

Vella shook her head. Cupping gently under her elbow.

"It went well. I should be celebrating."

"With these snobs?"

Vella snorted a laugh.

"We owe everything to you, my lady. You deserve to take a moment of respite."

"I'm just..." Vella sighed. Her decision heavy on her mind. How she hated this outcome. That anger she couldn't stifle anymore flared in her chest. How she wished to burn this place to cinder. "No... it's nothing. Nevermind."

Blackwall paused. His eyes steady on her.

"What?" She whispered, bristled up her back. Trying to not feel the resentment that sat in her belly.

"You did the right thing." His hand cupped over hers. "Gaspard is a fucking bastard. And Briala will be a good influence."

Tears pooled on her waterline. She blinked them away.

Traitor.

"Would you still like that dance?" He pulled close, cupping the small of her back. Steel blue eyes staring down so soft with concern.

"I'll make a poor partner." She mumbled. Her arm hung limp in its sling agreed.

"Impossible. You're the belle of the ball. Blood soaked and beautiful."

She knew he was trying to cheer her. She wanted to be cheered. But all she could do was lay her head on his shoulder.

He wrapped around her, kissing her temple. Swaying them in a slow circle. A dance all their own.

-

"Ah!"

Vella dropped her folded elbow. The sharp pain a clear signal to stop.

She dropped her good arm. Hanging her head.

Not even able to undress herself.

An old shame filled her chest.

The helpless get eaten. Stand up, girl. You are more use to me as meat than weight. And don't you dare cry.

Could she pull her bow again? Oh Gods...

A badger will chew through a leg in a trap. If it doesn't bleed out, it will be hobbled in the cold. Better to go head first.

The cold of shock unfolded along her spine. She tried to flex her fingers.

"We might need to cut you out of that dress." Blackwall's warm voice came to her back. Kissing a tender greeting on the curve of her neck.

"Vella...?"

"I can't feel my arm."

"The healer said that would fade. You'll get mobility back soon." He wrapped his hand around her front. Pressing assurance against the crest of her ribs.

"I can't..."

He circled around her. Concern tight in his eyes.

"Vella. Please, speak to me."

Something bad was coming. She didn't know it, then she did. Closing her eyes tight to the silver. Her senses too exhausted to make it take shape. But it was coming. Soon.

"Please, can we get a drink? I want to have a quiet night."

I want to pretend. Pretend this isn't the last of something.

He smiled, kissing her forehead.

"I'm sure Cabot has some good shit stored somewhere. I'll break cabinets if need be."

She gave a small smile and he tilted her chin up with his fingers. His eyes creased in adoration.

"There she is."

Vella tried to lockpick the door of Herald's Rest with one hand, but Blackwall simply shoved it with his shoulder. The latch gave with a whimper of a click.

"You're more battering ram than man." She smiled. Looking him up and down with trailing eyes.

"The chivalrous thing to do is smash down doors." He growled.

And just like that, they were playing again.

She sauntered inside, giving him a beckoning stare over her shoulder.

"Oh, this is what you've always wanted." She hopped up onto the counter, crossing a leg over her knee. "Me all vulnerable, needing a big strong man to help."

"I am going to enjoy this." He agreed. Circling around the bar to rummage a high shelf. Coming around to sit on the stool in front of her.

"You mind spreading your legs, darling?"

She leaned back on her palm, smiling wide as she unfolded her legs. He set the bottle down between the spread of her thighs as if this was standard.

"Oh, if I was a barmaid..." She laughed.

He full belly laughed, nearly spitting out his drink.

"The men would work here for free."

"The chantry would come with torches and rope." She agreed, her own laugh picking up contagious to his.

It wasn't that funny, not really, but they kept going. The back and forth of their joined laughter reignited the other until they were both doubled over. The song of her high keening melded to his deep bark. Collapsed into each other.

"Ow! Ow!" She laughed breathless. "My shoulder! Mercy!" Weakly kicking his side.

Blackwall wiped his eyes, still breathless in his own laughter. "No kicking!"

"I'm down an arm!" She kicked with both feet.

"Alright, that's it!" He climbed up on the bar and nipped at her throat, tickling her with his beard.

"No!" She shrieked, pushing his bicep. "I'm injured! I can't fight back, you asshole!"

He fell into his laugh again. Bracing on his forearm.

"Maker, my side!" He gripped at his ribs.

"Hah! Take that!"

His laugh fell away again, smiling down at her. Cupping her face so tenderly in his rough palm. Then his brow knitted together, letting out a deep sigh.

"Hmm, the brooding look is doing something for me." She teased.

"Is it?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, yeah. I like men sad and wet."

He rolled his eyes but didn't fully return to her playful. His eyes still heavy with something.

"Hey..." She hushed, pushing back up onto her palm. "What's wrong?"

He lifted her in assistance behind her ribs. Leaving his hand there as she sat up close to him.

"Moments like these... when things feel so simple. When it all seems so clear..."

She waited, seeing something building in his pause.

"Like I could do anything with you by my side. Be anywhere. Be someone bigger than myself. It's hard to imagine anywhere without you."

Her heart pounded against its tender cage.

He could feel it too.

"Could you take me to your bed?" She hushed. Her unspoken question clear to both of them.

He cut away the dress with a soft pull of a blade along her spine. Peeling it down her shoulder as gentle as tending a torn petal. Kissing above her bandage in a line.

"My dove with a broken wing." He sighed.

Her eyes flooded with tears. Being treated so soft too much. Too vulnerable. An effort of will to not pull away from it. To allow herself be carried in his palm and not try to bite.

He gently folded her arm back in its sling. Leading her back onto the pelt with the strength of his hands cupped behind her.

"I love you. You're more than I could ever hope for. So much more than I deserve."

He marveled mournfully at her bare fallen under him. Spreading his hand along her ribs reverently.

"There's no future for us with me as a Warden." His palm moved to lay flat above her belly.

She nearly laughed. Then remembered he didn't know.

There's no future with me, either.

"If you're worried about getting me pregnant, I'm going to ask for something from Morrigan in the morning."

"Hmph, that woman... Not sure about her." He grumbled.

Vella smiled and pulled at his tunic, lifting it over his shoulders.

"I like her. She's trouble."

"Of course you do." He sighed, kissing above the curve of her breast. "You're trouble all the way down."

"All the way down?" She wiggled her hips, giving him a grin.

"Cheeky." He scolded. Trailing his fingers down the curve of her hip bone, over the seam of her thigh.

"Oh, if you want cheeky I can turn over." She made to flip onto her belly.

He pushed his fingers into her clit. Rocking slow, mind-numbing waves into her.

"You're staying right here."

"Oh..." She breathed, falling back again. Her eyes glazed as desire pooled warm in her pelvis. Rocking her hips slow into his fingers.

"There we go..." He smiled, kissing around her breast. Trailing over her heart, kissing it with deliberate tender pulses, then returning to her pebbled peak. Pulling the sensitive bundle into the curve of his tongue as his fingers pushed slow into her. Curving up into the place that made her legs shake.

Her mind emptied of all but pleasure. The languidly pulled silk of it wound around his fingers.

"Oh, my love." She sighed in Elvhen, staring down at him with the tender of her heart laid open. Carding her fingers through his dark hair. "My gentle bear."

He looked up at her under his brow. His eyes grew glassy as he trailed kisses down her belly. His gaze steady on her through the water.

"Why are you crying?" She whispered, reaching for his hand.

He wove his fingers into hers as he reached her center. Kissing the golden curls above her sex. His fingers still stroking so perfect into her.

He only shook his head, rubbing her palm with his thumb. Too overcome to speak.

"Then speak to me here." She smiled. Resting their joined hands on her belly.

His eyes closed softly as a crease formed in his brow. Nuzzling into her clit with his nose. Spreading his tongue flat to lap slow waves into her. Savoring each pull like it was the last supp of soup licked from a bowl.

She shuddered with each stroke as his fingers joined with his mouth. The rhythm set to unravel her at her very core. Calling out soft cries as her body slow writhed. The tender touch building to unfold a flood from her pelvis.

"Oh, Gods." She moaned. Starting to feel that delirious pleasure only he could pull out of her.

He moaned into her, the deep of his voice sending tingles of pleasure up her back.

"You're giving me chills." She smiled, closing her eyes to fully fall back. Falling into only her body and the feeling of him washed over her. Not certain he could understand her anymore, but not finding it impossible.

She let it be only her body and his. The devotion of his fingers and mouth. Everything else fallen away. A being of only pleasure.

Her orgasm pulled from so deep in her she wasn't sure where it could end. Letting out a whine she had never made before as her legs curled up. Even the clenches were slow, dragging out until she was panting up into the night air. Barely lucid through the endlessly unfolding torrent.

"You still with me?" He murmured as he rose up her. Undoing his trousers and stroking his cock with the hand that had been soaked with her pleasure, kissing the side of her neck.

"Mm-hmm." She hummed, words still beyond her. Gasping slow labored breath. Holding his wide back as anchor.

He pressed a hand to the back of her knee, angling her open with a gentle push.

"I adore you, thank you, thank you endlessly for this gift." He sighed, lining up below her. Cupping the curve of her face in his hand as he pressed his forehead to hers.

He pushed in slowly. His eyes strained up into lids, groaning low into her mouth.

She let out her own soft cry. The stretch of him sent her pelvis tremoring. Stroking up into that same undoing his fingers found, but beyond that. Pressing into the pleasure deep inside her walls. Filling her to the brim.

"Oh, fuck." She cooed, staring up into his eyes. Her lips fallen open almost in pleading. "Please, slow again."

He nodded, pulling his hips back to rock into her. Kissing her softly in little pulses.

It was unbelievable. Her body sang with pleasure. Babbling out soft cries in Elvhen with each thrust. Pleading in the tongue she was born with. Her own half formed words a new song that she didn't know the words to, but came from deep within the seat of her soul.

She came around him in another keening cry. Grasping his strong shoulder, astonished how fast it had happened. Another building on the collapsed ruins of her as it still crumbled. Tears of ecstasy dripped down her temples. Staring up at him as he unmolded her entirely.

He kissed her cheeks and her forehead, returning his to press against it. Huffing out breath as he picked up speed. His arms braced around her. His face tightened as he started to break.

"Yes, yes." She urged in a fast whisper, cupping his face in her hand. "Cum inside me, please."

She locked her legs behind his back.

"Don't you dare pull out. Fill me until I'm leaking you for days. Please, bear."

He buckled fully into her as his body tensed up into a bow. Gasping out at her words. His eyes lost in his skull.

He pressed his face into her neck, muffling his deep cry of release there. His hips stuttered as he flooded her, grasping with bruising fingers into the other side of her neck. Rushing inside her again and again as his end struck through him. Weeping into the nape of her neck.

-

Vella woke warm and heavy with rest. Swaddled in what must have been every blanket. Smiling as sleep fell from her as gentle as rain dripped from leaves. Blinking into the soft light.

Then it all fell away in an instant.

Bolting upright, she felt it. Pulling a hand tight to her chest as her eyes lit silver.

The bad thing was here, as certain as the pound of her heart.

This wasn't foresight, this was a premonition.

She glanced down and was confirmed by the carved wooden dove that sat on the pillow. The indent of his head still pressed.

She snatched his tunic and fast draped it around her, struggling with her sling as she rushed downstairs.

A scout met her at the barn door, quickly averting his eyes to her undress.

She pulled him inside, uninterested in propriety.

"Where is he?"

~

Next Chapter

[nicolajpg]

i was tagged by two friends of mine @thorinoakenbutt and @leopardmuffinxo to make my dragon age ocs in this adorable picrew :D!!

thank you so much for the tag hihi💖💖💖 giving you both the biggest kiss on the cheek🫶🌻

★ Roselyn Tabris - a person delicate like a flower but after the death of her fiance (missing you like crazy nelarossss </3 </3) becomes quite jaded and has a hard time to open up again (well she learns to open up with alistair but those are details :))) )

★ Hawke - sorry i didnt to anything with hawke, i love this characters sooo much just as it is!!!! its like the same case as shepard 😭😭 love their design so so much yummyyy (fave romance personally is the anders route...........)

★ Alma Lavellan - she was quite young when was in the position of the inquisitor, maybe she was the trouble maker but was surely a people person!! after the messy break up with solas (more like a situationship but whatever) she choose that would litteraly put his ass under 5 meters under the ground (we love someone who is petty🫳)

about the rook.... i do have one named Vis? it means dream in romanian but if you change the s with ș its Viș from the word vișin/vișină which is sour cherry in romanian :(( so we have this skgksngjd

also i do not know who to tag hmm.... well im not going to pressure people but here are the victims of the tagging game akfkgjs @corffiser @vangbelsing @kitkabam @zevswarden @serwuz @velnat004 @avalost

kissing you guys 💆💖💖💖

[curioussubjects]

got all the murals in the lighthouse completed last night and 100% the veilguard doing a roundtable on the worst moments of solas's life was as bonkers as i was expecting

also the longer nobody mentions he was with lavellan the more it reads like burying the cherry on the absolute shitshow sundae that has been this man's life

im laughing so i dont cry because the whole thing is just so sad

[jarino]

Fanfic Recs

Complete

Detroit: Become Human

Like Fire and Powder by isiac_ (Connor/Reader)

Love; Defined by HighAsHope (Connor/Reader)

Mechanical Heart by Wolveria (Connor/Reader)

Dragon Age

As the World Falls Down & All I Ask of You by Khirsah (Trevelyan/Cullen)

Cherry Wine (Series) by jellopunch (Trevelyan/Cullen)

Enemies to Lovers by Caramelized (Trevelyan/Cullen)

Honey Whiskey by samzillastomps (Lavellan/Cullen)

Steel and Roses (Series) by ScriptrixDraconum (Cousland/Alistair)

The Lion of Skyhold by CometEclipse (Lavellan/Cullen)

The Way You Make Me Feel by speedgriffon (Cousland/Alistair)

Fruits Basket

Lovesick by littlerosette (Kyo/Tohru)

Mass Effect

A Sensitive Spirit (Just Waiting To Shine) by Stratisphyre (Ryder/Jaal)

Experiments in Diplomacy by Dulcidyne (Ryder/Jaal)

Jaal x Sara (Series) by buttsonthebeach (Ryder/Jaal)

Like Starbursts So Bright (Series) by bicetea (Ryder/Jaal)

Reflex and Response by KamalasFanfiction (Ryder/Jaal)

Starlight’s Bridge by Tiara_of_Sapphires (Ryder/Jaal)

Strong and Clear by canongoddess (Ryder/Evfra)

Thaw by erinaceous (Ryder/Jaal)

The Galaxy’s Worst Book Club & The Galaxy’s Best Improv Group by interventionandlullabies (Ryder/Jaal)

The Holes of my Sweater by DedeDrabbles (Ryder/Jaal)

Miraculous Ladybug

Danse Inversee by Nomolosk (Marinette/Adrien)

Drowning (In Plain Sight) by buggachat (Marinette/Adrien)

For Better or Worse by Cameo_Cat (Marinette/Adrien)

The Bravery of Adrien Agreste by Druwho (Marinette/Adrien)

Open My Eyes by buggachat (Marinette/Adrien)

Where This Flower Grows by ApomaroMellow (Marinette/Adrien)

The Legend of Zelda

Colors of the Heart (Series) by traumfesser (Link/Sidon)

Her Knight by traumfesser (Link/Sidon)

I Write to you From the Road by okamiwind (Link/Sidon)

Paradise in the Open by DakiWaaban (Link/Sidon)

Simple Solace by GalacticConcatenation (Link/Sidon)

The Prince’s Plan by GalacticConcatenation (Link/Sidon)

The Stone Unturned by surverycorpsjean (Link/Sidon)

To my Dearest Friend by surverycorpsjean (Link/Sidon)

Voe Armor Made me do It by MiKUSABBATH (Link/Sidon)

———

In Progress

Baldur’s Gate

Fell For Your Prey, Didn’t You? (Series) by DedeDrabbles (Tav/Astarion)

Dragon Age

Ellinor Trevelyan (Series) by tollofthebells (Trevelyan/Cullen)

From the Beyond by Auriana Valoria (Modern Girl/Cullen)

The Light You Still Hold by briannasroger (Trevelyan/Cullen)

Mass Effect

Before, Between, and After by RaeScribbles (Ryder/Jaal)

Doll by LadySpaceRadio (Ryder/Jaal)

Pity by Everyday_Im_Preaching (Ryder/Evfra)

Population: Me + You by LadySpaceRadio (Ryder/Evfra)

The Untraveled Road by RaeScribbles (Ryder/Evfra)

Miraculous Ladybug

When Duty and Desire Meet by EdenDaphne & midnightstarlightwrites (Marinette/Adrien)

The Legend of Zelda

My Favorite Place is at Your Side by FaeWren (Link/Sidon)

Various Titles (Different Not Less) by fellowfights (Link/Sidon)

Untouchable Things by Bitterlikesweets (Link/Sidon)

———

Potentially Abandoned

Detroit: Become Human

I am Alive by forsakenoathkeeper (Connor/Reader)

Mass Effect

Explain it Again, Slowly by interventionandlullabies (Ryder/Jaal)

The Space Between by Mikalah (Ryder/Jaal)

Miraculous Ladybug

The Bravery of Marinette Dupain-Cheng by Druwho (Marinette/Adrien)

The Legend of Zelda

Rumors (Series) by rocketdeer (Link/Sidon)

———

Most Likely Abandoned

Dragon Age

Breaking the Divide by Fatally_Procrastinating (Trevelyan/Cullen)

Dignity, Devotion, and Darkspawn by samzillastomps (Amell/Alistair)

Dissonant Verses by purrfectj (Trevelyan/Cullen)

Every Moment We’re Alive is Absurdity by lonelyspaghetti (Trevelyan/Cullen)

Green Light in my Eyes / And my Lover on my Mind by storiesliveoninsideus (Lavellan/Cullen)

Gold Lion by NoisyGhost (Lavellan/Cullen)

Knight of Swords by NowhereAtAll (Trevelyan/Cullen)

Least Likely to Succeed by bushviper (Trevelyan/Cullen)

Midnight at Skyhold by LadyDanya (Trevelyan/Cullen)

Someday We’ll Try to Walk Upright by sirinial (Trevelyan/Cullen)

Mass Effect

Language Barriers by rievu (Ryder/Jaal)

Miraculous Ladybug

Not That Kind of Hero by FallenGale (Marinette/Adrien)

[ekwolfwood]

Happy New Year I wanted to be back and I actually had a post about the bad things AND the good things complete with photos but it fucking uuhhhhhhhhh broke? So. Yeah. I'll try again but nooo, no photos for me i guess.

but anyways HELLO WORLD, MY QUEUE IS ACTUALLY ALMOST DEAD I HAVE BEEN ACCIDENTALLY AVOIDING THIS PLACE FOR REASONS UNKNOWN EVEN TO ME.

but yeeeeah about that 2023. its been a ~real bad year~ huh, or was it just me? Thought I'd throw up a little end ofthe year wrap up, but have been putting it off because a lot of it sucked.

Between multiple deaths in the family, covid still doing its plaguebearing thing, so much fucking stress, worsening symptoms and endless doctor visits and even worse fatigue thats left me in bed most of each week, im... it seems like i got nothing done.

But it wasnt all bad! I'm trying to think on all the things i did this year (and a LOT of things i acquired this year i did... a lot of retail therapy for the first time in my life really???)

-I cant believe i got to see a Rick Riordan Q&A live, like, it seems like AGES ago but was only this year???? It was a genuine bucket list item for me

-i started drawing again??? And im kinda improving???? Id like to share some of it one day somewhere?? Scary.

-got to dip my toes back into cons again! Only the safe/outdoor ones, but it was nice seeing folks again, despite some drawbacks (like AN being 40°C and witnessing a real stupid truck crash, and Yeti being nothing but stress overall and causing some ~brand new (old) symptoms~)

-I started my new life of cosplaying my own OC's over other things. Being Virtue (my dnd pastel barbiecore nightmare child) was absolutely freeing, i cant wait to make him 7 million new outfits

-especially because i got to do a freaking location shoot at a super cool, very out of the way waterfall, with a reflecting pool. i cant wait to bring so many things there

-also did a waterfall tour of Owen Sound. soooooo many dnd/dragon age/etc shoot ideas

-im also saving up for a few dream dragon age costumes, and its gonna be like uhhhhh.... $500ish worth of scalemail? (for two seperate projects)

-speaking of dragon age, i got alex into inquisition and i've become a nightmare about it again im not sorry

-alex and i went halvsies on thigh high boots that are 100% for my Lavellan, because he's a thot and deserves them

-tell me not to spend another like $150cdn on the official shirts. theyre just. so SOFT. they are a pure sensory joy.

-i bought so many cardigans from independent artists, on preorders. and like none of them are here yet but next falls gonna be 👌👌👌

-i have a lolita problem. got to wear one of my fanciest to the cherry blossoms at the height of my pain flares back in the spring! i now have two new dresses on top of that! there's a third im eyeing right now to go with one of my new cardigans! its a real problem y'all 😂

-but by far my biggest and best decision was i saved up for two solid years and was able to buy myself A FREAKING PS5 without breaking budget at all?????? I'm genuinely proud of myself, this was the exact opposite of an impulse buy??? even got to gift a friend the CoD game that came with it, because i was never gonna touch that lol

Next year better keep up the good things, and no new fucking symptoms. Also, depending on the Yeti news, im not letting myself be that fucking stressed this time around.

[dingbingbats]

would've done this sooner but i was tagged around when i was shadowbanned lol

coke or pepsi? dr pepper unless cherried coke

disney or dreamworks? #shreksweep

coffee or tea? somda...

books or movies? uhhhhhh. uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

windows or mac? windows all the way

dc or marvel? i just like james gunn's work o

x-box or playstation? nint swi

dragon age or mass effect? haven't touched either ever

night owl or early riser? night owl alright

cards or chess? no bongcloud in cards :(

chocolate or vanilla? choclayate all the way

vans or converse? shoes is shoes

Lavellan, Trevelyan, Cadash, or Adaar? no fuckin clue what those are

fluff or angst? both's good

beach or forest? depends on bugs

dogs or cats? kimmy

clear skies or rain? rain it's too hot here usually

cooking or eating out? eating out ig. sensory issue...

spicy food or mild food? my spice tolerance is below sea level

halloween/samhain or solstice/yule/christmas? idrk at this point. month off school but family and no friends

would you rather forever be a little too cold or a little too hot? neither what is wrong with you. cold ig

if you could have a superpower, what would it be? shapeshifting or invisibility ez

animation or live action? animation (esp 2d, pixel, and stop mo) but practical effects are sick as hell

paragon or renegade? whichever is funnier

baths or showers? bath

team cap or team ironman? taylor hebert kill them with spiders. but eh ig i like captain america in terms of representing progress (and not being a billionaire)

fantasy or sci-fi? fantasy but i do like sci-fi elements

do you have three or four favourite quotes, if so what are they? idk but there are some shitposts that replay in my mind on a semiregular basis

youtube or netflix? youtube ig

[REDACTED]

when do you feel accomplished? when im doing better than someone else tbh

star wars or star trek? i like the funi robots

paperback books or hardcover books? hardcover

to live in a world without literature or without music? depends on if we count comics as literature i think

who was the last person to make you laugh? idk

city or countryside? city

favorite chips? fucked up in the club eating detos

pants or dresses? pants

libraries or museums? natural history museums

character driven stories or plot driven stories? that juicy midpoint.

bookmarks or folding pages? bookmarks wtf is wrong w/ you

Dream job? i do not dream of labor. money for having opinions would be nice tho

What gives you comfort? friends, blorbos and catharsis

what are some of your favorite song lyrics? chorus, "Nobodyʼs perfect anymore / So why canʼt I be your golden boy?", all of this

favorite ice cream flavor ever?

tagging others, add your own new question at the end if you follow up: @rapt0r @that-one-empty-skull @tatangadragon @not-too-many-eyes

[nelkenbabe]

Ivy & Twine WIP: Shacking Up

After the Inquisition is disbanded, Amaryll makes a pit stop in Kirkwall on her way to Clan Lavellan. To her dismay, the Viscount seems to already be filled in on everything that happened since Halamshiral.

"So... you and Curly?"

Amaryll almost spit the whole cherry back out.

"What? You thought me leaving Skyhold meant I wouldn't keep tabs on what's happening down there? Ha!"

"I would have thought you're busy, Viscount Tethras," she replied pointedly after chewing with deliberation and moving the pit to her cheek.

"Never too busy for gossip. Especially when it comes to my friends." His eyes gleamed. "I gotta say, I knew you were gonna do something crazy after the Winter Palace. Didn't see you shacking up with with Curly, though."

She was about to give a retort, something between scathing and defensive, but as Amaryll stopped for a second and took in Varric's relaxed smile, her shoulders dropped. The last few days in Skyhold, Cullen and her hadn't been embarrassed about being together. Had flaunted it, in fact. So why did she feel like she had to explain herself to Varric? Because he hadn't been there to see it develop? Because it was still fresh?

Something crazy, alright. That's what it had to look like, for someone who didn't know what had happened.

Amaryll took the small bowl to unceremoniously spit the cherry pit inside. And with it, all pretense.

"I'm going back to Ferelden after visiting my clan," she then said in a much calmer tone. "I'll meet Cullen in Highever and then we'll travel to Therinfal Redoubt to see how the College of Enchanters is settling in. You probably know that he petitioned Queen Anora to let the College use it as a base. Shouldn't be long until they can start producing potions and earn their keep. Cullen used his military connections to facilitate the agreement."

As Amaryll recounted this, eyes still on the bowl of fruit, Varric's face gradually lost the spark of mischief and settled into something else. He folded his broad hands over the dark, heavy table top, leaning his head back a little. After a bit of silence, Amaryll met his eyes.

"Never thought I'd live to see the day," Varric said somewhere between solemness and jest, "Curly helping mages. By using diplomacy, no less.Your doing?"

"No," Amaryll replied without hesitation, "his own. He felt he had some things to make up for. All I did was be there."

Varric sat on that for a while.

"So there is no shacking, is what you're telling me," he finally said, only to earn himself a quick, brutal smack on the arm. "OW!"

[makerscockandballs]

For the oc questionnaire thing, I'd like to know #1, #3 (preferably physical traits), #31 and #43 for all of your guys if you have the time!

oooh this is gonna be a long one :D (related to this ask meme)

1: What is their go-to comfort food?

Maison Surana: Orlesian chocolate truffles. Tried them once at a banquet he was performing at and got obsessed. You could bribe him with them.

Orev Hawke: Hearty, heavy Fereldan stew like they used to make in Lothering. It’s just potato and turnip and whatever veggies are in season, doesn’t even taste like much but keeps you warm and fed.

Thelrael Lavellan: Sweets of any kind, but most of all a certain Dalish dessert made primarily from wild honey & roasted fruit.

Magnolia Trevelyan: Tomato soup but with tons of hot pepper powder – a classic she’s used to from the Circle, but the spice is her own twist to make it more interesting. Overall, she loves spicy & heavily seasoned cooking, the more the better even if it makes her eyes water. If habanero potato chips were a thing in Thedas she’d eat three bags a day.

3: What is something they really like about themselves and what is something you really like about them? (Physical Traits)

Maison: He doesn’t care too much about his appearance aside from looking neat and presentable but takes some joy in his teeth being pointier than normal. Part of it is just how they always looked, part of it is Warden Weirdness. I love his facial scars, both the characterization aspect (refuses to cover them up yet hates seeing them in the mirror) and from a “looks badass” aspect.

Orev: He really likes his hair and tries out all kinds of styles with it once he has the time and money. And honestly I agree, it’s also my favourite thing about him to draw :D

Thelrael: He really, really likes his legs, all his outfits are built around making his legs stand out (haha get it. stand out). I really like his profile, it’s overall flat and a bit round — a bit of a babyface that absolutely works for him and makes him look mischievous.

Magnolia: She really likes her overall build, especially her muscular arms. Worked lots and carried around lots of things when she was tranquil which sucked, but at least now it helps her defend herself. Josephine’s obvious glances are a big plus too. I really like her eyes, they’re big and a very dark deep brown.

31: What would make them blush?

Maison: Compliments and reassuring words about him as a person. He holds himself to impossibly high standards and is never satisfied, but hearing that others think positively about him means so much.

Orev: Coming from the right person, almost everything. Friend telling him they care about him or thanking him? Red. Anders kissing him or even just giving him the smallest compliment? Bright fucking red. Meanwhile anyone outside his close social circle could blatantly and passionately flirt with him and get nothing more than a friendly smile or some playful flirting back. All or nothing babe

Thelrael: It takes *a lot* to get this bastard flustered. A lot. He also has no sense of shame. Whoever tries to make him blush ends up being the actually flustered one within minutes. Nobody has figured out a way to do it yet, but Dorian is certainly trying.

Magnolia: Getting nice personal gifts, especially accessories and flowers. Makes her feel special and courted like a princess. She’s not used to having such nice things and wears them with pride. Getting compliments about how that new hairpin or earring fits her is the cherry on top.

43: And what would you say to comfort them?

Maison: You cannot save everyone, but what matters is that you tried. You helped more people by trying and sometimes failing than you would have through inaction. Let yourself off the hook.

Orev: It’s not your fault. Kirkwall was a sinking ship, and one man alone cannot plug all its leaks no matter how hard he tries. Drowning along with it would not have helped anyone.

Thelrael: It’s okay to be angry. But it is still real, even if the gods were not gods at all, it all still mattered. Every celebration, every story, every ritual still brought your people together.

Magnolia: You’re safe now, and not alone anymore. Nothing can force you back into tranquility or hiding. It’s okay to finally let your guard down and breathe.

[fanworldbuildingfun]

Tagged by @teecupangel

Three Ships: (oh Gods do I need to narrow it down? Can’t even go by recent, they would all be AC-themed. So… Random it is)

1.       Ezio Auditore da Firenze / Desmond Miles (Assassin’s Creed)

This one is leading by a small margin over Desmond/Altaїr. Seniority privileges I guess? I have started AC fics (featuring romantic relationships, that is) with this ship. One of my favorite comfort ships. I guess it’s because Ezio is the only Assassin we see having a peaceful, semi-quiet retirement. It’s something that we can get him to share with Desmond – and what better thing there is, after the Temple events? Point is, I adore the sheer softness one can fit into this ship that others don’t quite reach. Let Desmond be spoiled and not be judged for it

2.       Hannibal Lecter / William Graham (HBO Hannibal)

This is a shady one with oh-so-many bad touch vibes. But the courtship! The tension! And the sheer fact the intimacy can be seen play as day, and we don’t even have a single kiss to show for it. And I find it a pleasant contrast to a lot of mainstream media these days. The amount of mindgames being played on oh so many levels is just a cherry on the top. Just don’t mind the, uh, matters of tastes. That would be quire rude and rude people don’t fare well in this franchise.

3.       Solas / Lavellan (Dragon Age: Inquisition)

Ah, my love for courtly love… Thy strikes again. Now, this is a Bioware RPG so obviously it can branch hard. But it still remains one of the few game romances where you can see the end coming and still paint both characters madly in love. Just… Love doesn’t trump duty, here. You still split - and then proceed to have exactly zero relationships with anyone else till your hastily approaching end. If Ezio/Desmond is a comfort ship, then this one is the angst ship for when one needs a good cry

(I’ll steal the idea and do some honorable mentions myself: Basim/Eivor (no idea how, but it happened), JangoObi (the earlier fics), Arcann/N!Wrath)

First Ship: if we are going by “which one you started to read fics for”, then it would be Kagome Higurashi/Sesshoumaru (Inuyasha: A Feudal Fairy Tale)

Last Song: That Unwanted Animal by The Amazing Devil

Last Film: uh… Would TV series do? If so, Dragon Age Absolution (and it was pretty but the plot was eh)

Currently reading: a compilation of Iranian Fairy Tales

Currently watching: Star Wars: Visions, The Golden Girls (1985)

Currently consuming: caffe d’orzo with milk

Currently craving: a quiet week in log cabin in middle of autumn forest

Tagging: @pslamsofpsychosis , @krispyscreams (if either so desire, ofc)

[teresiel]

And so often this seems to narrow down to being cherry-picked reading of his character; largely for purposes of claims of exclusivity/gatekeeping. These sorts of users seem desperate to absolve when it would be more appropriate to acknowledge, admonish, and assist (if your patience allows; the dude is and should be regarded as " on thin fuckin' ice"), lest you entirely disappoint him. The same sort of users who do this - these users who often show off OC art/commissions of their Lavellan being the only one who understands Solas as they sit there in snide little comics together - lose the plot entirely.

Newsflash assholes, you're too deep into being the Special One. They've transfigured his character entirely, and he would find that boring! A supreme let-down that perpetuates the same complacency and ill treatment he chastises of others, and an un-intriguing challenge to the harshness he has for himself and others.

You saw his defense mechanisms and thought "oh neat, what an honest presentation that isn't a front at all, he's just mad depressed so he's allowed to be racist and I won't acknowledge that when called out other than to conflate crticism of fascism with criticism of race, and I vibe with that and recognize it in myself".

I'm assuming this is all referring to @arlathvhenan and their recent obsessive-but-regrettably-bankrupt takes, though correct me if I'm wrong and this rant is off-target lol

There's a lot of dislike for Solas outside of the tumblr and twitter pockets, don't get me wrong, but Solas is very mean, flawed, weird; I want fans to dig into those aspects of him and share their visions 😭

He has problems, big problems, many of them self-inflicted, I cannot get enough of it, as someone wasting her beautiful Sunday writing Zathrian x Solas

[spainkitty]

How Much Symbolic and How Much Real?

Part 1 of 5

Tags: Arranged Marriage AU, also 'what if Arlathan never fell and the Evanuris were defeated' AU, Cullavellan, slow(ish) burn, mentions of past (like really really past) Sola vellan, basic DA fantasy setting with a lore-twist

There was something amazing about it. A whole world had sprung up while she had slept.

So many nations and races and peoples. So many stories and songs and legends. There were cities that could compare with her home, perhaps not in magic or depth, but in sheer scope and ingenuity. There had been heroes come and gone, wars fought and won. So many that it dizzied the mind trying to keep them all in order.

And something even more amazing was how little her own world had changed despite everything.

Arlathan was home. It was beauty and light and everything she'd ever loved about her People showcased in one place. Spirits taught in grand halls and Elvhen walked boulevards made of magic and crystal. With the Evanuris long defeated and the end of slavery an "embarrassing blight" safely millennia in the past, Arlathan was even more glorious than her earliest years of existence.

But Lanil Surana strode the paths and corridors and parks like one caged. Whether on the outskirts of the Arlathan Forest where her clan resided or deep in the heart of Arlathan itself, Lanil felt the same.

Desperately and absolutely bored.

She snorted quietly to herself. She knew exactly what that sounded like. Like a whining child not past their hundredth year. Bored. Bored. What would others say if they heard that?

You're a mage and warrior, Surana. Surely you can think of something interesting to do.

Bored? When the Fade is at your fingertips, when magic and life has no bounds?

Do you want another rebellion, Surana? Do you miss the glory of fighting at the Fen'Harel's side?

Lanil rolled her eyes and barely kept a snarl from her face. It always came back to Solas in the end, didn't it?

"Lane!"

She stopped mid-stride with a slight smile on her face and an uptick in her mood. Only one voice was so young and bright. She turned to see the young, dark-haired Elvhen running through the shimmering corridor of the Grand Hall.

Once, this had been called the Way of Elgar'nan. There had been a lot more ostentatious gold around, too. She liked the look of it now, with its living decorations of trees and flowers and dainty halla running riot and beautiful among the glassy white stone and gleaming blue Veilfire. The Elvhen woman running towards her matched this new look much better; her bare feet all but silent, her clothing of green and brown and black melding with her surroundings.

"Merrill. Or should I say First Alerion?" Lanil said, bowing with a flourish as her friend approached.

Merrill's fair skin flushed cherry-red as she laughed. The twining and complex branches of Mythal's vallaslin on Merrill's face was new, but not shocking. Many Elvhen continued to honor Mythal after her betrayal. Especially mages. It probably helped there was no actual slave binding in the action of it with Mythal long dead; the spark that lit the rebellion.

There had been talk at one point of creating a Fen'Harel vallaslin. Lanil still grinned when she remembered Solas' utter fury and disgust. It had shaken all of Arlathan's beautiful crystal towers.

"Just Merrill, don't be a twit," Merrill retorted, elbowing Lanil's ribs.

"Twit? Sounds like somebody's been in Kirkwall recently," Lanil noted with eyebrows rising, careful to keep her voice low. Merrill smiled happily.

"I have! I tried to invite you, but Keeper Lavellan said you were on one of your 'wanderings'," Merrill said. Her smile, usually brighter than sunshine, dimmed. Ah. Concern. From someone who was actually a youth. "You've been wandering the Fade a lot recently. You're not... you're going to leave again?"

"Not anytime soon," Lanil said, though she wasn't sure how honest she was being. "Maybe whatever the Council has called us for will be interesting enough to keep me awake for another century or two."

"Don't joke. We've barely started becoming friends. I never would've been brave enough to--"

"Not here, Merrill."

"Oh. Right."

Merrill glanced around warily and obviously. Lanil wasn't exactly subtle herself, but Merrill was a stampeding herd of gurgut in comparison.

"So you don't know what the Council wants?" Merrill asked as they continued onward. Owls were perched on the trees, their wide knowing eyes glinting with blue fire as they watched the two Elvhen. The boulevard branched in several directions and Lanil led Merril to the widest branch that twined on and on in a lazy spiral upward.

"No. Neither did my Keeper. She would've told me."

"If even the infamous Stormrider doesn't know, perhaps I should become concerned?" a voice remarked, dry and hoarse. And instantly familiar to Lanil.

"Tabris."

A figure somehow appeared in front of them as if from shadow, although this section of the Upper Walkway was much too bright for a sliver of shadow to exist. Like Lanil, her skin was dark tan, but there were no other similarities (that other Elvhen didn't also have). Her nose was strong and hawk-like, her eyes like pitch and slanted at the corners, her hair thick and straight and as black as her eyes and cut at chin-length. A scar cut all along leftside jawline, as if someone had tried to slice her throat and barely missed. Which was exactly what had happened; Lanil had been there to see it happen and helped heal it. Long, deadly daggers were sheathed at each hip, but there were definitely more daggers hidden out of sight. Despite her suspicious glare and stone-like expression, she and Lanil clasped hands warmly, tightly.

It only takes one time for someone to rescue your life to consider them a friend, in Lanil's opinion. And they'd saved each other countless times throughout the many horrific years of the rebellion.

"Mahariel was also summoned. She went on ahead," Danae Tabris said as their hands released.

"Mahariel? The Rynira Mahariel? The one who--" Merrill exclaimed breathlessly. She broke off. All three of them frowned at the same time, gazes catching.

"That's four of the youngest Elvhen currently alive, and only women," Lanil stated the obvious out loud.

"You think... that's on purpose?" Merrill asked, voice a little squeaky.

"Nothing else connects the four of us. Two mages, but also a dagger-wielder and an archer? Mahariel and I fought in the rebellion, but you and Danae weren't born yet. We both have sworn to Mythal, but Danae and Mahariel never retook vallaslin."

Danae snorted and barely kept from spitting in distaste. "I can't believe you kept yours," she muttered.

"I was a sworn initiate of the Well--" Lanil started hotly.

"Yeah, yeah." Danae rolled her eyes and cut the air with her hand sharply. "The Council is known for patience and all, but I want to suck out the venom and get it over with. Let's move on."

Without waiting, Danae turned on her heel. Merrill and Lanil followed quickly, the younger Elvhen sidling closer to Lanil.

"You don't think they know about Kirkwall, do you?" she whispered to Lanil.

Lanil hesitated, worry and its usual accompaniment of anger wormed its way into her head. She didn't need permission to do whatever she damn well pleased. After a moment of stewing, Lanil shook her head.

"Tabris wouldn't be caught dead sneaking out to play with the quicklings. I don't think Mahariel is fond of anything outside her clan, either. So that can't be the reason why we've been summoned."

Merrill pressed a hand to her chest and let out a relieved sigh. The rest of the walk was in silence, which scratched at Lanil's vaneer of calm. She wasn't good at silence. Or waiting. Or wondering.

Stepping in the huge, circular Assembly Hall and seeing every single Eldest in attendance shattered her calm more. Even honored Spirits of Command and Justice and Law hovered among the Elvhen. Was that a Spirit of Wisdom, too? Yes, in fact she knew that Spirit personally, the distinctly feminine-presenting Spirit was one of Solas' dearest friends. The four young Elvhen that had been summoned walked side by side into the middle of the room. Most of the gathered stood or sat along the benches in front of them and rising above their heads, although some were arrayed on either side or behind their backs.

"I'm sure you four have noticed the commonality among you already," stated one of the Eldest with an infuriating serenity and slowness. Halleon had been an Elder during the Evanuris' reign, and it made Lanil want to snap her fingers in his face every time they spoke. "Today we ask you to consider, with all the due weight and severity that it entails, a proposal from the quickling kingdom of Ferelden."

The four woman glanced at each other in confusion. But Halleon did not continue, just steepled his long, elegant fingers and examined them closely.

"Well? What proposal?" Lanil demanded, hands on her hips. Don't snap your fingers at him. Don't snap your fingers at him.

"A proposal of marriage, little one," said Rhona, one of the youngest on the Council and one of the few who was more warrior than mage.

"Oh," Merrill said on a confused laugh. Then, broke off abruptly. "OH!"

Danae, however, started laughing and didn’t stop, head tipped back and shoulders shaking. Not a single note of it sounded truly amused. Mahariel's blonde eyebrows were so far up her forehead, they'd disappeared behind the loose sweep of her bangs. Merrill had both hands over her mouth, her eyes wide enough to pop.

Lanil was stone. Completely and utterly stone.

A proposal of what?!

"Just so I understand the facts," Mahariel began. Her voice was always so lilting and musical, as if she were more bird than woman. It didn't help that her armor had feathered pauldrons and she wore feathers in her long, pretty, golden hair. For a woman so dainty and pretty, she was one of the most dangerous archers in Arlathan and had a kill count that rivaled Lanil's, probably surpassed it, since she'd once been a disciple of Andruil. "You want one of us to marry one of the quickling?"

"I knew the Ambassador of Ferelden had come, but I didn't know this was why," Merrill whispered.

"The Ferelden ambassador came with an offer of an alliance. A very... persuasive offer," Rhona explained.

"Quicklings are nothing, and we've never needed alliances before." Danae spat on the ground. Several of the Eldest sighed in resignation, although a few nodded in agreement.

"Before we were not surrounded on all sides by powerful nations and empires. Before the quicklings lived in the mud and barely patched together furs for clothing. Before they had no mages that could compare to ours, nor universities in which to flourish their talents. Most importantly, before there was no Tevinter and there was no Qun," Halleon pointed out mildly.

"As long as they continue to fight each other--" Danae started.

"No, listen to them. You live in the heart of the Elvhenan. Many clans do not. For the past few millennia, we have lost border territories while they've chipped away at us like rats nibbling cheese," Mahariel interrupted with her hand in front of Danae. "I've been in skirmishes and lost many good hunters and friends to these quicklings. Especially those that name themselves qunari."

"An alliance with one quickling nation would make the others hesitate," Rhona said. "Or perhaps seek to do the same."

"But why Ferelden?" Lanil heard her voice ask it, but hadn't felt her own mouth move.

"True, it is a young nation..." another voice said. Lanil's eyes darted over to see Tislain. Tislain had once been of Clan Lavellan, and her grey eyes mirrored Lanil's. Lanil wasn't sure it was calming, but she also wasn't sure what emotions were darting wildly in her head. "But it has managed to regain its independence twice despite its... shall we say, underdog position?"

More than several groaned and rolled their eyes at Tislain's horrible pun. Merrill looked at Lanil, who hadn't been able to help her snort of amusement.

"They have a thing for dogs there," Lanil muttered. Merrill groaned in disgust once the pun registered.

"More importantly," Rhona said with a warning look at Tislain, "the newest king has strong ties to Orzammar. The Ambassador has insinuated that a trade for lyrium could be made with their intervention."

Merrill and Lanil gaped.

Orzammar. Willing to trade lyrium. With Arlathan.

Lyrium.

Elvhenan didn't need lyrium. They interacted with the Fade and with magic like other races interacted with... with air. It was incomprehensible to be without magic, even if one weren't a mage.

But long ago, so long ago it made the rebellion feel like yesterday's news, they had access to lyrium. The artifacts they'd created, the spells they'd woven, there were traces of them all over Arlathan. Precious and few traces. Those bits and pieces were hoarded like dragons hoarded treasures and bones. Clans had fallen apart in schisms and blood oaths to never reconcile over debated ownership over lyrium-infused artifacts.

But dwarves despised Arlathan with a hatred as deep as their hidden roads. The Titans might have been lost to their Memories, but the Stone remembered anyway. To think that a quickling--a human kingdom barely out of its infancy could offer even a trickle of lyrium...

Offer a starving person a feast and they will gorge. Lanil herself felt the pang of hunger at the idea.

"But marriage?" Danae asked harshly.

"That's how those quicklings do it," Halleon explained with a negligent wave of his hand. "Their concept of alliances rely on marriage and progeniture--"

"Progen--No. I won't breed with them. I refuse," Danae snapped. She tightened her hands around her dagger hilts reflexively. "You slavering mages can get your lyrium without me."

"That is your right," Halleon agreed.

"Elvhen don't just... leave Arlathan, and elf-blooded quicklings aren't allowed in Elvhenan," Mahariel said. She cocked her hip to the side and crossed her arms over her chest. "How about you explain what exactly you expect from us? Excepting Tabris."

"Consider it more... symbolic. It'll be a human marriage and it'll last as long as the life of the quickling. Any..." Halleon's mouth twisted in distaste, "progeny will remain in Ferelden with no rights or allowances within Arlathan." Halleon paused and sighed. "As long as this marriage lasts, whomsoever agrees to it will not be allowed back in Arlathan. You are exiled as long as you're bound by their marriage contract."

"Exiled?" Merrill whispered.

Danae scoffed loudly. Mahariel frowned and shifted on her feet. Lanil, however, felt her heart beat for the first time since the word 'marriage' was said.

No more sneaking out of the boundaries like a naughty child just to see somewhere, something, new? No more of the same days over and over with the same faces? No more passing like a wraith from eluvian to eluvian to glimpse a world she wasn't allowed to experience and that despised her? No more walking purposeless in Solas' shadow? No more facing the awkward guilt for something that happened centuries ago?

"Me," Lanil said. Every eye turned to her. She squared her shoulders, tipped up her chin, and stepped forward. "It'll be me. I'll do it."

"I told you," Tislain said with a wide grin and glinting eyes. "Surana was the most obvious choice."

"There had to be choice, Tislain," Rhona said, as if she'd repeated it several times.

"You haven't even asked who you have to marry!" Merrill hissed from behind her hand. Uselessly, because everyone could hear.

Lanil raised an eyebrow. "Does it matter?"

"Fortunately, the alliance will be with the commander of their army. You'll have much in common," Tislain said. "Ferelden seems to give their commanders the proper amount of respect."

Several Eldest nodded sagely. Many of them had been leaders in past wars themselves. It was expected of Eldest to have known true combat, to have faced death in a way most Elvhen never would.

Lanil cocked her head to the side. "So we'll spend the few years of this human's life swapping war stories?"

"Exactly."

Lanil snorted quietly and shook her head. But it didn't sound so bad. She hadn't picked up a sword in centuries, but maybe she could learn something new.

Learn something new.

A grin tugged at her lips.

...

Arlathan was more Fade than material world, but many of the clans were settled firmly on the earth. Elvhenan spread across what the quicklings called 'Thedas' like a splatter of inkblots on the map. Perhaps their adversaries would say their borders were like a stain seeping between the lines of all those mostly human nations. While a few clans, and Arlathan itself, had control of a few port cities, Lavellan did not. Lavellan's lands were south of Arlathan, so south most of the quicklings they met were simple Free Marchers who'd accidentally crossed an invisible line into the clan territory without even realizing it. Until they were surrounded on all sides by silent hunters who led them back into their lands like naughty chickens loose from the coop. The Fade made permanent borders tricky or downright impossible, so it happened often.

Merrill had hoped that leaving from Lavellan would mean their journey would lead them down to Kirkwall, but Rialto in Antiva was the closer port. Lanil had been a little disappointed herself. However, the entourage Arlathan had appointed probably would've been impossible to escape for a last night of revels with Merrill's strange friends.

Lanil glanced at the suspiciously glaring Danae and Mahariel's eagle eyes taking in everything around them.

No "probably" about it.

Although they'd denied being the sacrificial pawn in this newfangled alliance, the three other women were assigned to escort her to Ferelden and stay through the confirmation of treaty talks.

Which would end with Lanil's marriage.

She scowled as her stomach turned in knots and it wasn't the unfamiliar smell of the sea. She raised her face to breathe in deep the salty air. Lanil couldn't remember the last time she'd been on the open sea. These past few weeks on the ship had been... wonderful. The first shaking off of the cobwebs on her life. Had the sea air always been so warm and pleasant? The sea so alive? Not even the port city of Highever, greyer and muddier than Rialto had been, dampened her opinion. The gangplank was being set and she wanted to race off the ship, leap through the air and take off through those narrow, jumbled-looking streets. She curled her hands tightly around the railing to hold herself in place. Next to her, Merrill was jumping up and down on her toes. Danae and Mahariel stood like silent and disapproving statues on each side of them.

Lanil's eyes snapped in every direction, nothing too small or beneath her notice. So many humans! And look, dwarves! She didn't know dwarves could leave the Stone! Or sail? There weren't enough to sail an entire ship, so perhaps they lived in Highever or were surface-dwelling merchants? Great white gulls cried and swooped overhead. Ropes and sails creaked and cracked in the wind. A dog as big as a wolf ran down an alleyway, barking and hopping like an eager puppy before racing back the way it had come. The buildings were low, made of stone with wooden roofs and windows were made of foggy glass. The clothing was a mix of rough and undyed, and garishly overdyed with weird puffy sleeves. And everyone wore... shoes? Or were they called boots? Which were boots and which were shoes?

Antiva had been more lively and not so... brown. But even here, languages Lanil had never heard swelled up from the busy crowds. She didn't understand everything! Whole words and sentences that meant nothing! Her eyes widened as Elvhen walked by--No.

Elves. Bor'len

Lost Children.

She couldn't help but crane over the railing to watch them walk by. One of them caught her staring, a look of bewilderment quickly followed by a grimace, and then the Lost Child made an obscene gesture with their hand. Lanil reared back in surprise and scowled at Danae who laughed in her face.

"Look, look! There they are!" Merrill somehow began to bounce even faster. She grabbed Lanil's arm with a suddenness that almost had Lanil recoiling. "Which one is your husband?"

"You are too eager about this, Alerion. It's just a quickling marriage," Mahariel said.

"To a male one," Danae added with a grimace.

"Yes, yes, we all know why you said no, but Lanil likes men, don't you?" Merrill asked, shaking Lanil's arm. Lanil raised an eyebrow at her. "If you're going to have children, aren't you at least interested in what he looks like?"

"You mean she has to breed with it, because everything these quicklings do is about breeding," Danae muttered. Lanil and Merrill both ignored her.

"I planned on lying back and thinking of Arlathan, but I suppose a pretty face in the middle of that wouldn't be too bad," Lanil said dryly, and Merrill laughed. Lanil cared more about the horses and the return of that massive black hound. Everything about Ferelden was so... sturdy and big, not exactly tall or massive, but built on bigger lines. Lanil had never seen a hound so large it could probably snap her spine, not unless it were actually a shapechanger. Merrill barely smothered her laughter as the Ambassador approached them.

"I do hope everything is ready," the woman fretted, watching as the sailors unloaded cargo (most of it not from Arlathan). Strangely, the woman was Antivan rather than Ferelden, but she'd been kind and, no better word for it, efficient during the entire journey. She was also beautiful, sweet, and suffered fools with a cutting sort of grace. A few times, Danae hadn't been able to help the lingering glances she gave Ambassador Montilyet. When she thought no one was looking.

"I don't know how we'd be anymore ready," Lanil said with a shrug.

In Elvish, Danae muttered, "Let's take you to your jailer, then."

Mahariel rolled her eyes and Merrill frowned, obviously about to argue. Lanil shook her head and put her hand on Merrill's arm. Then, the four of them followed Ambassador Montilyet down the gangplank.

...

Cullen tried not to grimace as Cassandra hissed a steady stream of well-intentioned advice beside him. He was pretty sure she hadn't stopped giving advice since Arlathan approved of the alliance Ferelden had proposed with very little hope of success. Queen Aleandria had been sure the alliance relying on the symbolic marriage to a commander rather than a noble or royal would immediately be seen as the insult the council pretended it wasn’t, and King Alistair had been sure immortal beings of magic and mystery would want nothing to do with "that muddy dog country". When Cullen had been told he'd be married off like a pawn in a game of chess after all, Cassandra had been even more offended than him.

And then she somehow channeled his older sister's nosiness and followed him around for weeks to "prepare him" for it.

"Make sure you smile when you meet her. You don't look half bad when you smile--"

"Cassandra, please be quiet," Cullen begged, rubbing at his face.

"Don't do that." Cassandra grabbed his arm and tugged it back down. "What if she saw that? She'll think it's about her."

"Maker preserve me," he whispered.

By his horse's side, his mabari whined and shuffled, ready to run off half-cocked again. Cassandra had said to leave him in Denerim, he wasn't well-trained and barely more than a pup despite his size, but... Cullen had just adopted him. He couldn't let him feel abandoned.

A few sailors came down the gangplank from the ship--The Bodice Ripper? What kind of name was The Bodice Ripper for a ship?--and with them a woman who sauntered and rolled with each step as if she was still at sea. Her high boots and long tunic almost disguised the fact she wasn't wearing trousers. Where in the Void were her trousers? Cullen quickly looked over at the more familiar and more dressed woman speaking with her. Josephine always stuck out in a crowd, but in a good way. All bright silks and smiles and too many ruffles.

And then four elves--No, Elvhen, don't forget everything Josephine and Leliana drilled into your head--came down. He heard Carroll let out a quiet whistle and barely held back a grimace. He'd have to remember to reprimand Carroll later; even if he understood. There was something almost unearthly beautiful about the blonde woman who was all legs and a dancer's sort of grace. But she had a bow and quiver on her back.

Not Lavellan.

Hopefully the darker-haired and darker-complexioned woman next to her wasn't Lavellan either. Not because of the daggers she gripped at her belt. Cullen was more intimi--concerned about the curl of distaste on her mouth and the utter disdain on her face as her dark eyes scanned the crowd of horses.

The next two came down side by the side. The shorter, fairer one with an almost tree-like facial tattoo was tugging at the fourth's arm, grinning wide and pointing every which way. It was nice one of them looked excited... but she reminded Cullen uncomfortably of his little sister despite them looking nothing alike and the Elvhen probably being several decades older than she looked.

The last one, though. She was scowling like the dagger-wielder, but she was looking everywhere her friend was pointing. She was darker, but her short-cropped hair was the color of ivory, spiky and windblown around her face. There was something there, along her cheekbones that glinted, but Cullen couldn't quite make it out. More facial tattoos? He thought Elvhen no longer had them... She was almost as short as her friend and just as slender.

Both wore leather armor, one in green and one in blue. Both carried staves on their backs, one made entirely of wood and crystal, one of smoky grey metal carved into a dragon's likeness at the head.

Cullen couldn't take his eyes off the woman in blue. He wouldn't even let the words form in his head. What would it matter starting a thought like 'please be--'... Nope.

He was trying so hard not to make a fool's wish in his head that he forgot about the mabari.

With a series of loud excited barking, the dumb dog raced towards the women at the bottom of the gangplank. He'd probably caught scent of Josephine, or maybe the scent of a new creature suffused with magic. Cullen bit back an oath and threw himself out of his saddle, Cassandra right after him and not holding her own cursing back.

"Fetch! No!" Cullen shouted as they chased after the damn dog who, of course, didn't even slow down.

Josephine sighed and quickly held up her hands, begging the Elvhen to please not worry. The blonde Elvhen raised a single eyebrow, the angry one loosened her daggers, the smallest one clapped her hands together in delight, and the one in blue stepped forward and knelt. For a woman so small, Cullen winced and expected Fetch to bowl her over. Maybe knock her right into the bay.

Instead, the Elvhen barely moved an inch, gripping Fetch to hold him in place and  talked to him in rapidfire Elvish. The mabari actually sat, wriggling in place, stump of a tail going wild, and let both the woman in blue and her happy-go-lucky friend coo and stroke him.

"Fetch, is it? What a perfect name for such a fiercesome beast," she was saying in a softly accented Common. Cullen skidded to a stop as Fetch licked right across her face. Her friend burst into laughter as she grinned widely.

This close, Cullen could see the subtle gold tattoos along her high cheekbones, the scar that cut down the right side of her face from under her eye, forking towards her jaw and down to her mouth, another smaller scar just under her bottom lip, and her obviously broken nose. It made her... look real. Like a real person, not some ethereally perfect elf goddess. When she looked up, her eyes gleamed silver as the early afternoon's light struck them.

"I wasn't expecting such a warm welcome," she told him, her grin becoming more like a smirk.

It's her. It has to be her.

"What's a Ferelden greeting without a mabari," Josephine said with yet another sigh, although Cullen could see the beginnings of a smile. "Enchanter Lanil Lavellan, this Commander Cullen Stanton Rutherford. And his dog, Fetch."

"I should've left him in Denerim, I know," Cullen muttered. He tried grabbing at Fetch's ruff, but it was a bit hard to do when neither he nor Lavellan had looked away from each other.

"No. This is better," Lanil Lavellan said. She was the first to break the eye contact. So she could smile at his dog and scratch Fetch's ears. "It would've been all grand and stuffy otherwise."

"You mean it would've been a whole lot of etiquette while you tried to pretend like you cared," the blonde Elvhen retorted. She looked a bit like that ethereal goddess idea that had gotten into Cullen's head, even her ears were longer and higher, like in an artist's painting of the Evanuris War, compared to Lavellan's wider and lower ears.

Lanil Lavellan shrugged. She got to her feet and stepped around Fetch to hold out her hand. Cullen stared at her, then gratefully clasped his hand around her wrist and she returned it. His hand basically encircled the entirety of her wrist, but her grip was tight and firm belying her much smaller, thinner hand. He wasn't used to a mage displacing that much strength.

"That's a lot of names," she said, her head tilting to the side.

"Cullen. Cullen is fine."

She nodded. "Lanil is fine."

"What about us?" Her friend with the tattoos nudged Lanil Lavellan away. She went with a grunt, her hand dropping from his. "I'm Merrill, I'm an Enchanter, too. You can tell from the staff, right. Anyway. The other scowly one is Danae Tabris and she's Rynira Mahariel."

"This really isn't how it's supposed to be done," Josephine said, utterly mortified.

"It's too late now, precious," the ship's captain teased. There was a quiet thwap and Josephine startled in place and eeped.

"I'm Cassandra Pentaghast. I'm a Seeker of Truth working in the Ferelden court for a time," Cassandra said. She held out her hand and each Elvhen clasped it respectfully.

"Seeker of Truth? Isn't that the same thing as a Templar?" Lanil Lavellan asked with a frown.

"No, their little Chantry split into Seekers and Templars a few hundred years back," Tabris said dismissively.

"You know nothing, Tabris. It was an Inquisition that split into Templars and Seekers," Mahariel corrected with an eyeroll.

"Oh. That. With the bor'len," she said using a word in Elvish that sounded like an insult. Lanil Lavellan said something equally sharp and cutting, and Tabris crossed her arms over her chest and glared off to the side.

Cassandra and Cullen exchanged a look.

"We're not here to talk about the past!" Merrill clapped her hands together and then shoved Lanil Lavellan forward. Lanil Lavellan glared over her shoulder, but let Merrill push her past Cullen and Cassandra towards the end of the docks. Fetch jumped and hopped and ran in circles around them.

"Wait! We need to get your things!" Josephine called after them.

"We trust you to get it sorted," Mahariel said as she followed her compatriots.

"I'll stay to make sure it's done," Tabris muttered, still glaring at nothing. Mahariel trilled a few words in Elvish and Tabris snapped back. Mahariel only laughed.

"Well, this has been something," Cassandra muttered.

"Yeah..." Cullen agreed, watching Lanil Lavellan get shoved towards the squad of mounted soldiers. He startled slightly and rushed after them. "Your horse!"

Lanil Lavellan glanced over her shoulder at him. And she was still frowning. How is it that Fetch got her to smile and he hadn't yet?

He was not going to compete with his dog.

"I have, um, actually you have a horse. This one." Cullen held up a hand and Captain Rylen tossed him the reins to a Green Dales Feral. Cullen caught them to hand them off to Lavellan.

She took them awkwardly, eyebrows rising, only to immediately drop them. Cullen lurched to grab them while she stepped up to the horse. She stroked down the mare's nose, muttering in a mix of Common and Elvish. Like Fetch, the horse made her smile. Cullen dug in his pocket and cleared his throat. Lavellan turned those eyes on him, now a darker, stormier grey out of the sunlight. He held out his fist and dropped a lump of sugar onto her palm when she offered it. She turned back to the mare and grinned when it lipped the sugar right out of her hand.

"Does she have a name?"

"No, Dennet doesn't bother naming the ones he sells. It's up to the new owners. That's you," Cullen explained quickly.

Finally, she smiled at him. A closed lipped, slight thing, but it lightened her entire face.

She looked beautiful.

Cullen cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck, quickly looking away.

"I can't ride."

He startled and stared at her. She was smirking at him now. "You... can't?"

She shook her head. "We travel by eluvian. They can cover long distances in seconds. There's no need to ride horses."

"I thought... the halla?"

"We don't ride halla. They were sacred to Ghilan'nain before... you know, all of that, and now they roam wild," Merrill explained, hands waving around.

Lavellan cocked her head to side, sizing up the horse silently. She walked around, stroking her hand along the mare's neck, then gripped the saddle horn and hoisted herself up in an easy, fluid motion. As if she'd done it a thousand times.

"She's well trained," she said, patted the mare's neck again. "We'll figure it out together."

"These will help," Cullen said as he handed her the reins again. Lavellan grimaced, but shrugged and took them.

"And us?" Merrill asked, bouncing up and down on her toes as her eyes lit up cheerfully. Cullen realized all four Elvhen were barefoot, their leggings that ended wrapped around the arches of their feet the only covering.

"Uh, right. Everyone has their own horse while visiting in Ferelden. It's a long road to Denerim." He motioned at the soldiers leading the other mounts, including Josephine's.

"How far?" Lavellan asked.

"A week at best."

She frowned and leaned towards her mare's ear. "You're beautiful, my friend, but you're not as convenient as an eluvian." The mare snorted and shook her head making Lavellan and the other Elvhen laugh.

Cullen stared at Lavellan, wondering what he was supposed to say or do next. The blonde one, Mahariel, caught him staring. The look of amusement on her face had Cullen's mouth thinning. He nodded his head once and turned away without a word. The Elvhen began to talk in their own language among themselves, sparing no other soldier their attention, while Cullen stood with Josephine, Cassandra, and the stone-faced Tabris to watch his soldiers packing all their supplies. Fetch darted back and forth between the Elvhen and Cullen, barking and leaping excitedly.

The last of the supplies were packed, Tabris was with her Elvhen comrades, and a few soldiers were assigned to stay back to guard the caravan with cargo from several ports. Not quite allies, but not enemies, willing to trade with Ferelden while they had their own sovereignty. As he walked away from the caravan and Captain Rylen, Cullen rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. Josephine touched his arm and he glanced towards her, an eyebrow rising.

"Give it time, Commander. I've been travelling with them for weeks and this is the most Common I've heard them speak," she assured, squeezing lightly and briefly. Cullen huffed a laugh.

"Couldn't have been fun for you."

Josephine tsked and waved it away. "Their language is fascinating, honestly. But you must understand, Elvhen don't just leave Elvhenan. Enchanter Lavellan has agreed to become an exile for this alliance and it'll be decades before she'll be able to return home. She'll need time to adjust."

Cullen leaned in close, voice low and heated. "What? No one told me that! This was already a bad idea, and now she probably hates me, too." He scrubbed a hand over his face and braced a hand on his hip. Cassandra smacked his back hard enough to make him grunt. And he was wearing armor.

"She'll have decades to get over it," she said.

Josephine giggled and quickly stifled it at Cullen's look. She skirted away, her face carefully angled down to hide her expression. Cullen ran a hand through his hair, grimacing when his gauntlets caught. When he looked over at the Elvhen, Lavellan was already gazing at him. She didn't need to hide her face, her expression was already unreadable.

Fetch threw himself against Cullen's legs. Cullen let out an involuntary grunt and his stare-off with Lavellan ended. Shaking his head, he lowered to a knee and ruffled Fetch's ears.

"Yeah, I know. I'll get it together," Cullen promised. Fetch barked and proceeded to slobber all over Cullen's face. Because even his own dog laughed at him. Cullen laughed and shoved Fetch's head away, standing to walk over to his mount.

[sakurabunnie]

@cherrypikkins drew this picture in commemoration of me tanking Orbonne Monastery for what must have been at least a dozen or so times without the tank top dropping. On the bright side, I did get really good at tanking it! (´•ω•`;;)

[cherrypikkins]

As we progress into further Tumblr nonsense

I will be slowly getting myself established at pillowfort.io.  I’m cherrypikkins there as well.  Please follow me there - site is currently running slow as molasses, probably due to influx of tumblrfugees, LOL

I won’t be leaving outright unless Tumbles nukes my blog to high heaven, but I’ll continue to reblog this to let people know.

Stay fluffy!

-ceepee