#Elenthril lavellan

[elvenclub]

The Herald’s Rest

So I was cleaning up my files and I found this hidden away. I liked it, so I’m sharing it.

A small snippet of Elenthril Lavellan and Varric Tethras having a drink.

Varric warmed his hands by the fire. He shifted from one foot to the other, hoping to expel the chill from his bones. He suspected the winter coat he ordered from Denerim was warming some bandit bastard right about now. Grumbling, he blew on his hands. His grumbling came with an echo. He followed it to the one and only Seeker Cassandra. He bit back his frown as she marched over to him.

“Where is the Herald?”

Varric stretched his fingers. “Excuse me?”

Cassandra’s cheeks turned a slight pink. “Where. Is. The Herald? She was to attend the meeting yet did not!”

Varric shrugged, moving his hands near the fire once more. “Don’t ask me. I’m not here to herd a Dalish Herald like a lost nug.”

She narrowed her eyes, “Do not lie, Varric. I have seen the two of you talking. Whispering as rogues do.”

"Hey, she’s the rogue. I’m an artist.”

Cassandra waved his comment away. “You have befriended her, Maker knows how. Inform her that, as Andraste’s Chosen, she must attend Council meetings.”

Varric nodded, waving goodbye as Cassandra stormed off to the training dummies. His sigh clouding in the air, he pulled himself away from the warm of the fire and went in search. He didn’t need to look very far, and found Elenthril in the tavern. She was sat at a table by herself with a drink in her hand. She stared down into it, as if staring would answer some question. Varric sauntered over and took the seat opposite her.

“Herald!” He began. He stopped at her grimace.

“Please don’t call me that.”

Varric cleared his throat, “Apologies. Nicknames tend to stick.”

She moved her gaze to him, her lip curling with amusement, “Then give me a new one.”

He adjusted himself in the wooden chair, drumming his fingers on the table. He studied her face, the tips of her ears twitching. “How about... Snarker?”

She snorted out a laugh.

Varric grinned, “Snarker it is. I didn’t believe you were one for drinking alone.”

Elen’s smirk faded, her eyes drifting to her left hand. A green glow peek from between her fingers. Varric frowned his sympathies.

“Hell of a weight, huh?”

Elen’s smirk returned ruefully, “You have no idea.” She watched him for a moment, studying his eyes.

Varric shifted in his seat. “The Seeker was looking for you.”

“I heard.” Elen smirked, drinking from her mug.

“Apparently skipping meetings about closing the Breach tend to rattle her up. Which I applaud, mind you. But she’s like a charging bull when worked up.”

Elen smiled, “True, she did have me in chains for three days- “she sighed as she drifted off, rolling her drink around in its mug. “Do you have any siblings, Varric?”

Now it was Varric’s turn to smirk. “Once, I had a brother. He died.”

Elen nodded, focusing on her drink. “I have a sister.”

Varric smiled to the barmaid as she brought his drink, sipping the rather sweet Orlaisan cider. “Oh? Is she back with your clan?”

“She’s the First of our Clan.”

Varric raised his brows. “Hey! Quite a prestigious position, so I’m led to believe.”

“Our Keeper took a shine to her, especially since one of her own children showed such promise in magic.”

Varric blinked. “Your mother is keeper?”

Elen nodded.

“And your sister is First?”

She sipped her drink, smacking her lips. “Yep.”

Varric blew out his exhale, taking a swig of his drink. “Shit. Talk about playing favourites.”

Elen chuckled, drinking her ale. She smacked her lips again, looking out of the window. “I trained to protect the clan, going out into the woods and hunting shems,” She added a mocking undertone to the Dalish insult, “while Syril stayed with Mother and read book after book.” She looked to him, “You know, I wasn’t allowed to read them? Too precious, I was told. Couldn’t let my dirty fingers touch them.”

Varric frowned, “Siblings can be cruel.”

Elen took another swig of her drink. “Mother wanted someone to listen in to the Conclave. She, of course, sent Syril. But her First was too precious to lose, so she sent an escort to protect her.”

Varric sighed, “You?”

Elen smirked, “Me. And she was so smug about it. Told me that my job was to sit and be quiet. To protect her from Templars.” She frowned into her drink, “I swear, she would have felt at home in Tevinter.”

Varric chuckled behind his cider, causing Elen to smile. Her smile slowly faded. Varric wiped cider from his chin. “Sounds like a sibling war more than a rivalry. But, if I can ask, why isn’t she here? Didn’t she join the Inquisition?”

“We got into this big fight. I had had enough. Enough of her superior attitude, her haughty expression, her waving that staff around and her “well-read personality.” Elen’s frown deepened. “I stormed off. I left her. The next thing I remember was waking in the chantry and finding out about a giant hole in the sky”.”

Varric lowered his flagon, a stone settling in the pit of his stomach as Elen finished her drink. She called for another, taking a huge gulp from it. She sat silently for a moment, watching her glowing hand. “They think she eva-evap-”

“Evaporated?”

Elen nodded, thanking him. “Apparently there’s no body.”

“I am sorry, Elen.”

Elen nodded once more. She looked out the window again, a line forming in her brow. Varric followed her gaze, watching another elf stand in the snow. Solas studied the breach, writing something in a small notebook. Varric felt his smirk return as he turned back to Elenthril.

“You could talk to him, you know.”

She scoffed, going back to her drink. Varric chuckled. “Why not?”

She gestured at Solas with a wave of her hand, the tips of her ears pinked with drink. “He’s a mage. He’s intelligent. I’d look like an idiot.”

“Just because you aren’t as well read as your sister doesn’t mean you’re not intelligent.”

“I can’t exactly read well.” She mumbled down at her mug.

Varric ignored her. “And just because you’re not an worldly scholar like Chuckles doesn’t mean you can’t talk to him.”

She watched him, her thumb brushing over her mug. “You think so?”

“Hey, he was rather pleasant as we ran for our lives.”

Elen frowned at her drink. She finished it off, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand and stood up. She took a few steps before turning back to him.

“About my sister...”

Varric nodded curtly, “I won’t tell a soul. Writer’s honour. Every hero needs some tragic mystery in their back story.”

Elen smirked, giving his shoulder a gentle shove. Varric watched her walk out. He took her space, watching her through the window.

Elen walked out the door. She wobbled a touch, but she straightened up. As she approached, Solas turned. His own lipped curled. He closed his notebook and bowed his head to her. Varric strained to listen.

"The Chosen of Andraste! Blessed hero sent to save us all.”

Elen greeted him with a wide grin. “Am I riding in on a shining steed?”

“I would have suggested a griffon, but sadly they are extinct.” Something flickered in his eyes, a split second emotion that disappeared behind that same smile. “Joke as you will, posturing is necessary.”

Elen listened as Solas talked of the Fade, her arms folded over her chest against the cold. Her eyes brightened as Solas talked of ancient ruins and dreaming. Solas’ subtle smile grew as he began to answer her questions. Varric grinned and took a triumphant swig from his drink. Maybe Elen wouldn’t be such a tragic hero after all.

[elvenclub]

Look at my precious child. She doesn't deserve any of this. This is on Xbox as well. Who says you need mods to make pretty characters? 🐲