#I think this is how f!lavellans felt about Dorian

[aldwirlavellan]

Will he drink it? Absolutely no

Will he learn exactly how to make it and show your partner? Yes of course

[hobnob2020]

The Veilguard review

Big spoilers ahead for the people that haven't finished the game yet.

So after plugging 70+ hours I've finally completed Veilguard.

This will just be a general overview of how I felt about the game, I'll likely do a separate one for Solas/Mythal and Lavellan and one for a Lucanis romance.

First off I want to say that any negative criticism I had for the game I am reminded of how difficult this game was to get off the ground running in the first place; it experienced multiple layoffs, it pulled the team to focus on Anthem when it failed, the team was reduced, OG writers left and multiple people lost their jobs once their work was complete and lets not forget those that worked on this during a pandemic so I think it's important to keep coming back to this so that we can just appreciate what we had as an end product.

Now the end product itself, did I enjoy it? absolutely.

I've laughed, I've been giddy, I've been angry at times and in those final moments was reduced to tears that reconciliations were reached and it was the end of a very long 10 year wait.

I want to start from the beginning where we welcomed our Rooks because holy moly is the character creator detailed. I mean seriously every single Rook I've seen is a catwalk model 😂

Every faction felt different and the brief history to your character was really well done; I went with a female mage elf I the Crows and I loved being a Crow from the get go; the decision that she made that essentially forced her to leave the Crows because she'd basically f*cked up a mission was really interesting because there's still that tension once she returned with Viago (who I adored BTW, his disappointing fatherly persona against Teia's comfort and protectiveness was just perfect) and it set the course for every Rook wanting to prove themselves.

Briefly touching on the Inquisitors creation I was so happy that this was an early decision and hearing her say "it's good to see you again" was like a stab to the heart and felt like I was being welcomed back home after such a long journey.

Once into the gameplay it's hard to ignore how beautiful the graphics look, Minrathous' design was so unexpected and how the locals were treated makes me wonder how Dorian ever survived 😂

There were certain scenes that just blew me away and made me realise just how far games have come to allow us them; the moment you open the doors at Weisshaupt and see Ghilan'nains massive looming face in the clouds was just breath taking, in fact the two gods in general were very well done and there wasn't enough of them in my opinion.

The animation as a whole was very good and again compared to Origins this game is on a different level of good (hate to compare it to other games but Balders gate is probably the closest contender).

There's a particular scene with Lucanis as a romance where he walks over to you after you basically say you like what you see and that Spite doesn't define him, the way his face moves, the little smile, the way his eyes drop to your lips when you touch him floored me and I think having motion capture for this game definitely paid off.

The mechanics of the game were fantastic and as I've yet to play anything other than my mage I am excited to play other classes and possibly Warrior for the first time across 4 games, although Spellblade ruined a mage for me as I love being able to be upfront in a battle and found it perfect for my Crow mage.

I went with purple Rook for this playthrough as I wanted a charming Crow who had far too much energy and was awkward in the best way possible and loved every minute of it; Bioware has always been very clever at establishing the different personalities and how they affect the world around them. Going into a scene and having your Rook react by themselves depending on their personality makes the character feel real and that we aren't just following the same thread of dialogue.

When you first meet Solas they didn't lie that it would feel like an end game mission, the dialogue was fantastic, his voice actor is just incredible and he has a talent to be confident, insecure, determined and doubtful of his own words all in one and it was very easy to fall In love with Solas during inquisition.

I really enjoyed how the first decision you make as Rook ends with the gods escaping, either Harding or Neve being injured which puts doubts in your friendship and leadership from the beginning, that Solas who we'd believed to be the big bad was essentially trapped and looked like a kitten compared to these evil beings who want world domination, it really makes the player question how are we going to fix this massive mistake that we've created, because it takes the gods no time to get to work whilst we scramble to find a team and cleanse multiple parts of Thedas at the same time aswell as setting up base in the fade where we dig deep into the history of Solas and the ancient gods past.

The companions of this game I felt were individuals in their own ways with their own back stories and present problems but I felt as a whole weren't as good as say the previous game; there was no double crossing mages or people with their own greed and agendas, no hidden pasts like Blackwall which personally fell abit flat for me.

In fact I'd say the only one who had an interesting story was Lucanis after his imprisonment and demonic possession and the struggles that came with it.

I don't think I'll romance anyone else other than Emmrich as the others just don't interest me.

It just felt like you were constantly flitting to the Lighthouse and back to grind out companion tasks in order to gain approval and faction points, there was no option to just have a conversation like previous games instead it was very much on their terms and where you were in the game which was something i really missed.

Still, their personalities were very different and characters like Lucanis, Taash and especially Emmrich stole my heart very quickly.

The banter was top notch quality as per 👌 some of my favourites were from Taash and Lucanis, just being a Crow in the middle of their conversations about capes was hilarious at times.

The voice acting as a whole was very good, I felt with some characters particularly Neve it felt abit flat in moments but Bioware have a knack for finding talented voices; having someone as bubbly and excited as Bellara to the deadpan and slightly blunt at times Taash made for a very diverse team.

Returning characters was always a welcome and there were some surprising cameos such as Isabella in the Lords of Fortune faction.

I know alot of people were disappointed that this game felt limited in bringing over past choices but it needed to make sense; Sera isn't going to return and be found in the deep roads etc, it needed to serve a purpose to The Veilguards story and I'm happy with the ones we did get.

When it came to the three decisions from inquisition yes I was disappointed at first; why are we ignoring who drank from the well, why aren't we talking about Hawke, who's ruling Fereldon, who's Divine?.

I think we need to remember that after 4 games the decisions from little to big are so vast that there's simply no way to fit it all in and satisfy everyone and baring in mind this game is for new players too.

Having this game set outside of Ferelden means those decisions won't carry weight in Veilguard, who is divine won't affect us, where Hawke is doesn't affect us because we know they'll either be in the fade or fighting against the evil.

And yes a codex could of helped address any of this but again, it's a smaller team now at bioware and the focus is on Rook this time around, it's their turn and tbh reading codex' is time consuming when you've got gods to fight 😂

The only decision I really wanted brought over was who drank from the Well because as a Solasmancer he was so pissed at me but I think I know why it was glossed over.

I think having Solas being able to control your Inquisitor would have the issue of consent and violation and as a romance that doesn't feel right, especially given how Mythal basically manipulated Solas and used him as a slave it just goes into uncomfortable territory.

We could also argue that Solas absorbed Mythals essence so all that's left is her memories and the tiny fragment you find in the crossroads so essentially Mythal ceases to exist thus there's no pledge anymore for the inquisitor and that she only needed her help to fight Corypheus, who knows but I'm glad Solas wasn't able to do that to the Inquisitor.

The endgame was amazing, finally killing Ghilan'nain was so satisfying and Lucanis was an absolute bad ass doing it, seeing Solas become the dreadwolf and hearing his pained cries was heartbreaking even if he couldn't stop betraying my Rook 😂.

Forcing you as a player to lose a character despite high factions and hero status was brutal, and I unfortunately lost both Davrin and Assan. As much as I loved them both, it made sense to his character to die in that way, and Harding has so much more to do for the dwarves and titans.

I'll talk about Solas/Mythal and Lavellan on another post but I was very happy with how it ended, seeing the art concept of him making himself tranquil just shows how differently it could of gone, and I honestly expected them to die in each other's arms.

If I think of anything else I'll add it onto this post but yeah, 10 years man and it's over, well not over completely as I'm creating an Emmrich romance as we speak but I can't believe years of speculation and doubt is now in our hands forever.

Yes this game could of been better in parts and blew my expectations away in others but I loved it and I think the negative criticism over characters like Taash, the three previous decisions, crazy solasmancers which bring the team down is so unjust and people need to reflect on themselves as humans.

All I would say to those that critic this game as heavy as they have is to take their time and play it again, you'll find things you missed the first time around, really read the codex', just sit back and understand what the characters are saying, read between the lines and just take it back to beginning of this post, this game very nearly didn't happen and alot of talented people that have given you this game have lost their jobs so please just be grateful for what we do have and pray that this isn't the end of dragon age.

Edit:

The whole Varric thing was probably my least favourite thing about the game, not because he died but it just didn't make sense that Rook didn't know until the very end.

I had my suspicions because he was always tired and going back to bed and something about it didn't feel right.

For other companions to say "oh we thought you knew" was just silly, I could understand Solas using his powers to create an illusion but why not on all the companions because surely Rook at some point was like "Oh i'll take some food to Varric" or "have you been to visit him", without that Rook just sounds crazy 😂

[mogwaei]

Chapter 167: The Mycologist & the Carver    

Rating: explicit

Pairings: Solas/OFC, M!Lavellan/Dorian Pavus, F!Lavellan/secret companion

Fic summary: Agent of Fen’Harel defects to search for an alternative solution and–oh no. An Inquisitor who is Not Well. His sister who likes to complicate things. Time travel with consequences. Lore exploration and expansion. Friends, rivals, lovers, and endless explanations. Do u like bagels, ‘cause this one has everything on it.

Word Count: chapter [~6k] | entire fic: 940k+

Snippet below:

~~

Thom was smiling under his great beard, thick arms crossed in a thoughtful manner.

"Where'd you learn this?" he asked with a darling softness, gesturing to the runic language at the bottom. "I'm not literate, but I've seen some dwarven writing in my day."

"The dwarven men I travelled with were…worldly." It felt like a script at this point. She wished she could tell the whole truth of what they had been, as their memory deserved.

"Really? I've heard you mention them offhand. Sounds like quite the tale. You should tell me more one day," he said, and she didn't bother to hide her surprise this time. He wasn’t pushing boundaries with potential hurt…and she respected that. He gave her a self-satisfied grin she couldn't resist returning. She quickly wrote out the directions and tore the page out for him. "Funny. I could have sworn I'd seen another healer today with the same thistles and dandelions in her hair. Similar journal too. Looked nothing like you though, save perhaps the height."

Rainier was more perceptive than she thought or she was a full blown fool. How had she not seen him in the infirmary? And furthermore, stupid, stupid me for not removing the weeds. You were so cocksure about not getting caught.

"For what it's worth," Rainier shifted so his back was against the opening, stretching his pained leg out beside her. "Defying Miss Head-Healer Thera to give me that dragon's spit salve you whipped up instead of the same tired elfroot-embrium one–"

"I  treated  you?" she blurted. And…there went her cover. “  Fenedhis , I must have been high off Enoki’s herb not to have noticed.”

Rainier belted out a merry laugh. If she weren't mildly panicking and reassessing, it would have been infectious. "Don't worry. Genuinely wouldn't have known if not for the flowers." He leaned in until she could smell him—woodsmoke, a bit of spicy dragon's spit, and straw. "But…I’m tickled curious. Why are you in disguise?"

Maordrid plucked up her carving tool, giving him a knowing glance. "I don't think we are so different, Rainier."

Read the whole chapter here

Chapter 1 for new readers

[juliafied]

"Having their hair washed" for whoever you fancy!

Here’s some Dorian x Taralen Lavellan, my f!Lavellan’s brother who just lives in my head rent-free now. Thanks for the prompt!! 

@dadrunkwriting

CW: some not entirely sexual nudity

--

Someone had turned the steam up all the way in the little shack that somehow passed for a bathhouse inside of Skyhold’s walls. Of course, Dorian wasn’t about to complain, as a poor excuse for a bathhouse was better than no bathhouse at all, and the steamy little shack was the only place he could use his favourite soaps, that smelt like home. The extra steam was welcome as it swirled around him, finally ridding him of the last of the Fallow Mire chill. Perhaps it would soothe the nasty bruise on his leg, too.

As he sank into one of the tubs that was miraculously always filled with warm, clean water (he had Dagna and her ingenuity to thank for that - Orzammar dwarves apparently had almost as much a penchant for bathing facilities as Tevinters), he thought wistfully of the great baths in Minrathous, a favourite haunt of his during his Circle days. The Skyhold bathhouse was a far cry from the multi-storey complex he longed for, where a multitude of rooms filled with steam, dry heat, and even pools of cold water catered to the preference of each bather. Dorian missed the patrons, too - everything from a philosophical debate on the nature of electrical Fade dynamics to an orgy could be found at the Minrathous baths on a good day. Here, in the middle of the night, he was alone - though, to be true, he preferred having the place to himself, away from the stares of the Skyhold populace.

He poured some salts into the bath and dropped his shoulders deeper, hearing some water splash out over the edge. Closing his eyes, he thought about the son of the Avvar leader who led his whole clan into ruin. Perhaps his father thought Dorian was doing the same to the Pavus legacy, running around as he did with the Inquisition. He smiled bitterly to himself. I hope so.

Suddenly, he heard a creak and the sound of glass shattering, followed by a hissed, “Fenhedis!” Uttering a curse of his own, Dorian scrambled out of the tub and haphazardly wrapped a nearby towel around his waist. 

“Is everything alright?” he called out, before rounding the corner into the other arm of the bathhouse and almost running into Taralen Lavellan.

Taralen Lavellan, who was scowling and very naked.

“Ah!” Dorian exclaimed, furious at the blush that was rushing to his cheeks. He quickly averted his gaze, but not before catching a glimpse of the vallaslin that curled around his beautiful chest. Taralen, however, did not look the least bit embarrassed by Dorian witnessing his state of undress, and merely gestured angrily towards the tub next to him. 

“I don’t understand. I thought there would be at least some kind of pump, like they have in shem cities. Where are we supposed to get the water from?”

Dorian stared blankly at him (at his face, only his face), and then realized that Taralen was expecting an answer.

“They’re runes,” he said, with far less authority and much more trembling in his voice than he had hoped. He walked over to the tub, Taralen’s narrowed eyes following him, and pressed on the blue button, followed by the red button. The tub immediately began filling with hot water. “See?”

Dorian saw that Taralen had bitten his lip in the most irresistible way and had to look away again, this time to the floor, where he saw shards of glass around a pool of creamy yellow gel. Crouching down to pick up the shards, he was hit by the lemon aroma of the soap. 

“Shame,” he murmured, “this soap’s from Antiva.”

He almost shuddered when Taralen’s knee brushed against his as he crouched to join him in cleaning up the glass. They put the pieces into a small towel that Taralen snatched from a nearby pile of them and tied up the corners.

“Well, it can stay there, as far as I’m concerned.” His shoulder-length brown hair, usually tied back into a neat ponytail, fell loosely into his eyes, the gentle waves close enough to tickle Dorian’s nose. “I don’t know how to use any of these things. My clan only ever had lye soap, and that served us plenty well. How’d you get Neris hooked on this stuff?”

Dorian chuckled. “She has a bathtub in her rooms.”

Taralen rolled his eyes. “Of course her Inquisitorialness does.”

He stood abruptly, then, and Dorian did the same, lest he let his eyes wander overmuch. Taralen dipped his hand in the water of the now-full tub, flashing a pretty smile at Dorian.

“It’s so warm!”

And he hopped into the bath with a delighted laugh.

Dorian couldn’t help but laugh along, despite being aware of the blush that persisted on his cheeks. He hoped Taralen would attribute it to the heat, though he doubted it. The elf missed very little, as evidenced by their first meeting.

Taralen let out a satisfied groan. “You know what? I take it back. Use all the fancy soaps you please if it comes with this sort of thing.”

Dorian smiled and took a look at the so-called fancy soaps Taralen had brought along with him. There was a shampoo and conditioner - it seemed the soap had been the one that had been smashed. Two of them weren’t soaps at all - one was a vial of salts, the other an oil for the hair. He opened up the vial of salts and emptied it into Taralen’s tub. Steam rose off the surface of the water, obscuring the rest of his body, thankfully. Dorian wasn’t certain his (albeit limited) sense of propriety could survive, otherwise.

“This one will help with sore muscles.”

“Mmm,” hummed Taralen, letting the water wash over his muscular shoulders. “I can think of a few other things that would, too, but this’ll have to do for now.”

Dorian smirked as he turned away, though a thrill shot through his back and into his stomach. He picked up one of the other bottles and showed it to Taralen. “Can I interest you in some shampoo?”

A pause. “Shampoo?”

“It’s a special soap for your hair.”

“Ah.”

Dorian observed the frustrated curve return to Taralen’s brow, and a frown tugged at the corners of those full, lovely lips. This couldn’t be easy for him, he realized – Aeneris had settled into her role well enough, despite being leader of the Inquisition for a faith she didn’t believe in, amongst people she wasn’t familiar with, with customs and traditions she neither knew nor cared for. But she had a goal, a purpose, a responsibility to focus her. Though Taralen was clearly both adventurous and brave for making the trek to Skyhold, Dorian had seen him wandering aimlessly around the castle while Aeneris met with diplomats and advisors alike. He’d noticed how despondent he became when she left on a long mission to some faraway Inquisition outpost. Abandoning everything he had ever known and loved in favour of living amongst some strange humans in the South just to keep his often absent and preoccupied sister company had to be difficult. Isolating, even. Lonely.

It was a story that felt familiar, too.

“Would you like me to wash it for you?” He almost stumbled over the words, but something compelled him to offer. Perhaps it would bring him some comfort. Or, at the very least, some clean hair.

Now, it was Taralen’s turn to blush, though he did it very prettily. He nodded, an uncharacteristically bashful smile on his lips.

“I would like that.”

Dorian retrieved a pail that was hanging on a hook on a wall nearby and filled it with the hot, fragrant water of the tub. Gently, almost reverently, he poured some water over Taralen’s brown locks, which tightened into delightful curls as they hung off the edge of the bathtub. He refilled the pail and soaked the top of Taralen’s head, who hummed quietly and sunk deeper into the water. Dorian then took the bottle of shampoo and emptied a sovereign-sized dollop of shampoo on his hand. Slowly, he worked it into Taralen’s hair, focusing on massaging his scalp. He seemed to relax under his touch, and even gave a little sigh of relief.

“You know,” Dorian started, “correct me if I’m wrong, but I’ve seen you around the castle, and if Aeneris hasn’t given you much to do—”

“Neris is very busy,” Taralen cut in sharply.

“Be that as it may, if you find yourself in want of some conversation, you can find me in the library whenever you like. I can be very charming when I want to be, or so I’ve been told.”

Taralen chuckled, and they were silent for a few moments, as Dorian ran his fingers through the elf’s lathered up hair. “You’ve been watching me, then?”

“You do seem to catch the eye, yes,” he replied, almost flippant in tone, but he felt his pulse quicken.

Willing his hands not to tremble, he dipped the pail back into the water, this time dipping both his hands in as well, to wash off the lather. As he withdrew, Taralen caught Dorian’s wrist in his hand. Even this brief touch sent a jolt of electricity down Dorian’s spine, one that he couldn’t be sure wasn’t magical in nature. He turned and his ochre eyes met Dorian’s, burning with a sudden intensity.

“I’ve seen you around, too. I’ll be sure to take advantage of your hospitality in the library. And your charm. I agree that you’ve got quite a lot of it.”

There was that wink again, the one that had made Dorian curse all the way down the stairs that led away from Aeneris’ quarters. Fasta vass, he wasn’t supposed to be feeling this way again, not at his age, not with what was at stake for his country, not here. He couldn’t help the sinking feeling, however, as Taralen released his hand and he rinsed the shampoo out of his hair.

“I’m looking forward to it,” he found himself saying.

Afterwards, Dorian considered the fact that it was just as well that his bath had somehow gone cold in his absence, after such an encounter. He certainly needed it.

[iridescentmemoria]

Every even number for Inky asks please! <3 and tell me their name and looks!!!

Pfhew! that was a lot of them! but i'm super happy i received this ask! i've been aching to talk about my inquisitor to someone <3 My main inquisitor would be Brenna Lavellan, She's a Dalish mage, pale skin with a dark green vallaslin. She has black hair, long, long enough to have to braid it and pull it into a bun behind her head. She wears several dreads too, with jewelry in them, but alas there's no mod for that. ( i use the mod dreads of the wolf on her ) She carries on her left cheek a scar that cuts through her face and onto her ear, she got it in a fight with a shemlen who'd tried to light their aravels on fire in the woods one night when she was only a youngster.

2 - How did they decorate and structure skyhold?

She decorates it with various trophies from their adventures through thedas, but the heraldry is mostly a mix between the inquisition and the dalish + elven designs. Some ferelden dogs, and an Avvar throne. 4. What are their views of the Chantry?

Fuck the chantry. That's basically her attitude. She understands faith is important to the people of thedas, they need hope, but the chantry is an outdated, cruel institution that practices nothing that they preach. 6. Who did they romance and why?

Solas. She fell for him quickly, his wit and charm and endless stories of the fade and the ancient elvhen empire. she loves him, with whole her heart. Where usually she would be wary of strangers, solas was one of the exceptions. She felt an instant connection with him and it didn't take long before he skillfully broke down her walls and made her fall deeply in love with him.

14. Who is their favourite and most trusted adviser?

If we're talking only the advisers she adores leliana, they cultivated a strong friendship. If we're talking the entire inner circle, that would be dorian, solas, cassandra and cole. 16. How do they react to the corruption of the Wardens? Why? She is apalled by their actions. For an institution to fall so low and resort to tying themselves to demons.. it was just too much. She banishes them from orlais. 18. Do they enjoy Wicked Grace, or don’t they? Not only does she enjoy it, she is also good at it and loves to challenge everyone in skyhold for a game or two. 20. Do they trust Morrigan? Trust? No. She's smart enough to realize Morrigan is in it for her own gain. She respects her and her magical abilities and likes to converse with her ( when she's not bragging about all the knowledge she supposedly possesses about elves and their heritage ) But she doesn't trust her. Morrigan is power hungry, and their debate at the well of sorrows shows that clearly enough. 22. What is their biggest regret?

Ironically, Not realizing Solas wasn't who he said he was. If she'd figured it out sooner, she might've been able to change his mind.. 24. How did they react when they found out about Blackwall/Thom Rainier?

Oof. Yeah that was a big reveal there. She had some suspicions about blackwall but would never have thought him to be a murderer. She pardoned him. But remains distant. Despite their friendship. 26. What makes them trust someone?

Seeing them standing up for what they think is right, standing up for people who cannot defend themselves. And those who do good deeds without wanting anything in return. 28. Did they disband the Inquisition or maintain it?

It was a tough decision. The inquisition was her everything, but seeing the state of thedas and knowing the truth now, that the entire organisation was infiltrated with spies and reeking of corruption... She disbanded it. She was angry and upset, but determined to work towards saving solas from himself. It would be easier with a tight knit group that doesn't involve all the politics and discussions in the winter palace. She also gladly went to kirkwall to live there after varric offered it to her. 30. How did they judge the prisoners? Alexius, Servis and so on. Specific a character.

Alexius was made to serve the inquisition, in researching arcana. But he will not be gaining his freedom. Servis was made to smuggle artefacts. Florianne was killed, and her box was used for community service. Livius Erimond was executed. Ser ruth was sent to the deep roads to achieve what she wanted. Samson was remanded to Kirkwall for judgement of his crimes, though if she was given the chance she would have executed him for all he did. 32. Who did they leave in the Fade, and why?

Stroud. To her it seemed the more logical solution at the time. besides, she loves varric dearly and couldn't take his best friend from him. 34. How do they cope with the stress of being Inquisitor?

Powering through. Trying her best to maintain her sanity by taking breaks on her own when she can. Also elfroot. A lot of it. 36. What was the most difficult choice that had to make?

Whether to disband the inquisition or not.

38. Emotionally, what was their reaction at Sahrina Quarry? The realisation made her nauseous to her core, the poor people there didn't deserve all that and she wishes she could have helped them sooner.

40. Do they get Cullen to start taking lyrium again? Why or why not?

Absolutely not. She supports his decision and provides him with counsel and comfort when he needs it. They are devoted friends, And seeing him overcome his addiction makes her proud. She trusts in him, she knows he can continue his work without the lyrium.

42. How do they view Tevinter? Oof. Yeah.. well considering she is an elf, she doesn't much like the place at all. The only good thing to come out of it is Dorian, who she loves dearly.

44. How do they think their race plays into being Inquisitor? It definitely does. A whole big deal. She is a dalish standing for all peoples. No matter their origin. She is the proof that everyone is worthy of respect. And she openly wants to use her power to advance the elves. 46. Which companion/adviser makes them think twice about their choices, if any?

Dorian. His voice is one of reason and she takes his counsel constantly. Also they have fun little outings that involve a lot of vintage wine and gossip. All the advisors are important to her, she listens carefully to josie cullen and leliana. Also cassandra. And cole. I think the only one she doesn't listen to is viv. ;) 48. What do they think about the Hero of Ferelden?

She doesn't know much about the hero of ferelden. Before the inquisition she kept to the clan and their worries, but she reads up on their story later in the library and finds herself feeling some level of connection to them, they both stand for something better after all. 50. Are they proud of what they accomplished? Yes. Despite everything. She feels like being a part of this whole inquisition took a lot from her, almost everything, but she is proud of what she has accomplished and the changes she's made to the world. Bonus! here's some pics of Brenna for the long wait!

[midnightprelude]

For @14daysdalovers from @oftachancer​ and I!

Pairing: F!Lavellan x Cassandra Pentaghast Rated: Teen Prompt: Ask me to stay Word Count: 2,043 Read here or on AO3!

Cassandra

It was the middle of winter, but she was sweating. Her fingers ached but she pressed anyway, wedging into the tight crevice-

“Oh, Creators,” she heard Lyanna sigh and she smiled. Worth it. 

Cassandra leaned up on her elbows from the floor, setting the screwdriver to the side. It had taken them the better part of a week to transform what had once been Dorian’s room in the flat into a nursery. Lyanna’s cousin had left wood shavings all over her living room, hauling lumber up into the flat and sculpting it into the parts for a rocking chair and the crib that could connect and separate for the twins. Cassandra had spent her off hours from the office painting the walls, then installing soft-edged dimmable sconces and baby monitors and cloth mobiles, before child-proofing everything she could get her hands on. 

“I think she likes it, eh,” Esha grinned. 

Cassandra watched Lyanna pressing her fingers to her lips. “You weren’t supposed to see it until we were finished,” she chided softly, climbing to her feet. The room felt like a small forest. Warm wood and green walls. Shelves that looked like branches and clouds. 

Cassandra set the screwdriver into her toolkit, wiping her hands off on her jeans, grateful for the summer lightness of the tank top. Outside, there would be snow in a few days, but in this room, it was warm from their labor. 

“You- It’s-“ Lyanna glanced between the two of them, wrinkling her nose and wringing her hands. She was seven months into her pregnancy and looked as though she’d stuffed a watermelon under her shirt, the bulge stark against her thin frame. “It’s wonderful. You- All of this? You did all of this yourselves?”

“See,” Esha crossed his arms, leaning over the hand-made crib. “I told you we could have sprung for strippers.”

Cassandra snorted softly. “Yes,” she answered. “But if there’s anything you don’t like, we can change it. There’s time.”

“No,” Lyanna’s voice was shaking as she crossed to Cassandra, pressing her cheek to her shoulder blade, belly pressing up against her back. “No, Cass, it’s perfect. It’s so- Creators, are all of those toys handmade?”

“Your cousin,” Cassandra mumbled, “insisted that his kin shouldn’t be saddled with ‘shem corporatism’.” Only a few months before, Lyanna had been able to press flush against her. Now Cassandra could sometimes feel the twins kick her in the spine when they slept. Her tiny lover was a big spoon no matter the size of her belly. “It’s fortunate my uncle insisted I learn to sew.”

“It is fortunate,” Lyanna chuckled, nuzzling her nose against Cassandra’s back. 

“The blocks are my doing,” Olivier’s voice called from the doorway, laden with takeaway boxes and bags. “Well, with some help. The tour bus was covered in sawdust for weeks, nearly sent Ril into a conniption.”

“Nearly,” Esha laughed. “If that was nearly, I’m genuinely afraid of what a real conniption looks like. He made me clean his harp with a toothbrush.” He grinned, resting his chin on his arms. “I thought for sure you’d spill the beans, but she looks genuinely surprised. Well done.”

“We can always get less lopsided stuffed animals when they leave,” Cassandra murmured, wrapping her arms back around Lyanna. 

“Lopsided is perfect,” she chuckled, “I love them, each and every one.”

The words sent a curl of warmth through Cassandra’s core; she felt a smile curve her lips before she bit the inside of her cheek to control it. “Good.” She took a breath. “That’s good to hear.” She glanced across the room to find Lyanna’s cousin smirking. “Go away.”

“You’re welcome.” Esha hugged Lyanna on his way out the door. “Proud of you, asa'var'lin.”

“If I find either of you listening at the door, you’ll be in trouble,” Lyanna lifted her brows, kissing Esha’s forehead. “Save some food for the pregnant woman. The pickled onions in particular.”

“Those you can have,” he laughed, slipping out the door. “Ollie, she says she wants us to eat all the pickled onions!”

Cassandra rolled her eyes, uttering a sigh. “He talks so much.”

“He does,” Lyanna laughed brightly. “How long have you two been at this without me realizing?”

“Since they came to Val Royeaux for their tour.” Cassandra turned to wrap her arms around Lyanna, kissing her cheek. “The planning, in any case. We worked on some of it separately and pulled it all together in the last week.” She leaned back, studying Lyanna’s upturned face. Her sharp chin and kissable nose and pleasure warmed cheeks and bright, brilliant eyes. “I wasn’t sure which room it would be, but when Dorian elected to take the other lease… He loaned me his key so I could sneak in and take measurements while you were at work. You really didn’t suspect anything?”

“Well, perhaps something,” Lyanna admitted with a grin. “You’re not a very convincing liar.”

Cassandra shook her head. “You’re right. I’ve never really seen the point of pretending to do or be something that I’m not. But I wanted to do this for you, and I had a feeling if we told you, you would be on your hands and knees putting furniture together and breathing paint fumes. It’s alright?”

“More than,” Lyanna lifted on her toes to brush their lips together, eyes as green and shimmering as the freshly painted walls. “You know me too well. I love everything you’ve done, and that you did it with Esha and Olivier, and most of all…” She grinned, squeezing Cassandra’s hands. “Most of all, I love you. That you wish to be a part of not only my life, but theirs. It means everything.”

“I do,” she lifted Lyanna’s hands to her lips, kissing her fingers. “I want to, very much.” Cassandra cleared her throat. “It’s- I want to be with you for all of it. I’m aware it’s only been a few months, but this - us - Sometimes I can barely remember what it was like not to share my life with you.”

“What are you saying?” Lyanna lifted her brows, tilting her head curiously. “Of course you can be there.”

“I like making your tea in the mornings. I enjoy driving you to work and talking with you at the end of each day.” Cassandra brushed her thumbs over Lyanna’s fingers. “I miss you when we sleep apart. And when the twins come- I want to be able to help you with them. Not drive halfway across the city at odd hours. I want- I want to be with you. If that’s what you want.”

“You want to-“ Lyanna blinked, her brow furrowing. “Here? With… You’ll never get any sleep, once they come. At least I can take leave, for a time.”

“You forget I’ve raised multiple puppies. I’m more prepared for midnight feedings and sleepless nights than you are.” Cassandra watched her carefully. “Let me worry about what I want and what I can handle. What matters is whether or not you want me here. You don’t have to make a decision now. I only wanted you to know where I am, so you can consider it.”

Lyanna nodded, wringing her hands. “You wish to stay here. You want to-“ She closed her eyes, massaging her brows. “I didn’t realize you wished to- I hadn’t considered you might-“ Lyanna met Cassandra’s gaze, steady and serious. “Yes. So long as you keep your flat, at least for a while. In case… In case you decide it’s too much and want some space. Yes. Yes, if you’re sure.”

“You remember that I come with three appendages?” Cassandra thumbed her cheek. “It’s alright if I bring them here?”

“Please do,” she chuckled, “now that Dorian has officially moved out, we shouldn’t need to worry about allergies. I like waking up to a cold nose or a furry bum in my face in the morning.”

“I know you do, but also I have the dogs and the cat.” Cassandra bit the inside of her lip. “I wouldn’t go so far as to call my bum furry.” 

“No, but Valentina’s is,” Lyanna rolled her eyes. “Fenedhis, I was speaking about your pets.”

“Oh, was that what you were doing?” Cassandra murmured innocently, trying to ignore the heat working its way up her neck into her cheeks. “So I shouldn’t try waking you with my bum in your face? Fuzzy. I would accept fuzzy. Like a peach. Yours is.”

“Mine is-“ Lyanna sniffed, crossing her arms at her chest. “What exactly are you getting at?”

Cassandra smiled despite herself. Somehow in a matter of months, she’d gone from fearing those consternated expressions to wanting to kiss Lyanna every time her nose wrinkled. “I love you,” she chuckled, smoothing her hands down Lyanna’s arms. “And I want to live with you and blend our lives and argue with you every day and every night about ridiculous things like how much I love your body. I want your children to grow up with Valentina and Alexei and Czyzy nuzzling them and giving them unconditional love and hopefully distracting them from the rabbit I made that has one ear shorter than the other.”

Lyanna seemed to melt before her, her features softening before her. She pressed her forehead against Cassandra’s shoulder, sighing as she wrapped her arms as tightly around her as she could manage. “Then stay,” she murmured, tilting her chin up to meet Cassandra’s gaze. “Stay. If you’re certain, I want you to stay.”

“I’m certain,” Cassandra kissed her forehead gently. “And I’ll keep my flat in case you change your mind. Until you realize you won’t.”

“I can start making room for you in my closet. You’ll need somewhere for all of those suits of yours.” Lyanna closed her eyes and stood still for a moment, arms wrapped around Cassandra’s shoulders. “I think I can have things sorted here by next weekend.”

“I can have things sorted,” Cassandra held her close. “You can tell me what to do and put your feet up while you eat pickled onions.”

“You are always sorting other people’s problems,” Lyanna leaned up to kiss her, lingering over her lips as her hands trailed down her back. “Just let me have this one little thing, make myself useful. And then I’ll have pickled onions and ice cream.”

That had been one of the most horrifying things Cassandra had ever witnessed. “You’re very useful.” She kissed her cheek. “And very beautiful.” She kissed her other cheek. “And very edible, somehow, despite all the onions.”

“They’re delicious,” Lyanna tutted, nudging her with her nose “I only just realized. The doctor says I need more salt. I won’t be distracted from my task by sweet nothings, though. I need to sift through my own belongings. Perhaps there are things I might not want you to find!”

“Like what?” Cassandra kissed her nose. “Your collection of bawdy magazines? I found those ages ago.”

“What?” Lyanna reddened, wrinkling her nose. “I don’t even have- Oh. Actually, I might. You were snooping, though.”

“I wasn’t snooping,” Cassandra laughed. “I was trying to find where you’d put your gray sweatshirt. It’s the only one that fits me.” She skimmed her hands down Lyanna’s sides. “One more reason it would be nice to have some of my things here.”

“Yes. Infinite sweaters and tee shirts for me to steal,” Lyanna chuckled, “though even those are getting a bit tight around the middle. Why don’t we eat and then we can clear out my room together?” She tilted her head. “Suitable compromise?”

“Yes.” Cassandra skimmed her fingers across a fallen bright red curl, tucking it back behind Lyanna’s ear. “You’re beautiful. Truly, wonderfully beautiful. I like the way you look, tight shirts and all.” She smiled, heat idling up her neck to her cheeks. “I like the way you look when sweaters stretch over you. I like the way you look when you’re slurping onions like a madwoman. I like you.”

“You’re terribly, horribly biased,” Lyanna rolled her eyes, wrapping her arms around Cassandra’s shoulders and stepping backwards from the room, fumbling with the doorknob behind her. “And I’m very glad you are.”

Cassandra kissed her temple as they headed down the hall. “As am I.” 

[pikapeppa]

Felassan/f!Lavellan smut: Caught

Chapter 19 of The Love That Grows From Violence (post-Trespasser Felassan x Tamaris Lavellan) is posted!

In which... well, the title says it. But also, a Dorian cameo!

~7000 words. Read on AO3 instead.

***************************

Tamaris plopped down on her bed and started setting up to write her letters. She was still dearly hoping that Felassan would join her sooner than later, but she had to find some way to occupy her mind until he was finished with his task, or she’d drive herself crazy. 

She placed a piece of parchment on the large tome she’d brought upstairs to use as a writing surface. She’d written to Cassandra already a few days ago, so Cassandra didn’t need another update yet. She’d write to Thom instead and leave it to Varric’s ravens to figure out where he might be now, and then she’d write to Bull and to Istimaethoriel and the clan. 

She opened her bottle of ink and dipped a quill in it, but before she could start writing, she remembered that she’d meant to call Dorian to apologize for storming off to the roof the last time he’d called. 

Fuck, she thought. She put the ink and quill on the bedside table, then went over to the dresser and grabbed the sending crystal.

She rubbed her thumb over the surface, and the crystal pulsed with a gentle purple light as she waited for him to answer. A few seconds later, Dorian’s voice floated up from the crystal’s face.

“Well well, if it isn’t Tamaris of Clan Lavellan,” he drawled. “Thedas’s most unmannerly ex-Inquisitor—”

She rolled her eyes. “Look, do you want me to apologize or not?”

“Oh, excellent,” he said brightly. “Let me just fetch a glass of wine.”

She tsked. “I’m sorry, all right? I…” She sighed. “Things kind of hit a sore point, but I shouldn’t have just left you hanging. I’m sorry.”

“Hm,” Dorian said.

She sighed again. “And I should’ve called sooner to apologize for leaving you hanging. Okay? Are you finished pouting now?”

Dorian chuckled. “I suppose it’ll do. Your apologies are always so charmingly rude.”

She scoffed at this. “You sound like Felassan.”

“I shall take that as a compliment,” Dorian said. “How is he?”

“Why?” Tamaris said pointedly. “Eager to hear from your new best friend, are you?”

Dorian laughed. “That must mean the sending crystals arrived. I hope they’re of use to him. And no, Tamaris, giving sending crystals to Felassan does not mean I love you any less.”

She grunted, then relented. “Seriously though, thank you for sending those to him. He’s really pleased about it. He… I think he might have found a use for them.”

“Oh?” Dorian said curiously.

Tamaris got up from her bed and went to close the door before replying. “I just told him yesterday that Solas took the eluvians from Briala,” she admitted. “I think he’s got an idea to help her relating to your crystals being precursors to eluvians, but I don’t really know.”

“You didn’t ask?” Dorian said.

“He’s busy with something else right now,” she said.

“Well, tell him I’d like to know what he comes up with,” Dorian said. “It would be nice to hear about a project that’s magical in nature instead of political.”

“I bet,” she said sympathetically. Then she realized she hadn’t asked him about the political situation in Tevinter the last time they’d talked. “Fuck, I should’ve asked. How are you and Maevaris doing there? The Lucerni are shaping up?”

“Oh, they’re doing very well,” Dorian said airily. “Learning their manners, using their knives and forks in the correct hands and all. I’m far more interested in hearing more from you.”

“About what?”

“About Felassan,” Dorian said, in a tone that clearly translated to ‘obviously’. “Now that we’re chatting on our own, I’d appreciate some more details.”

“I thought I never gave any interesting details,” she said snidely.

“It’s not too late to start.”

She scoffed and didn’t speak, but in truth, she wasn’t sure where she’d even begin to explain to Dorian about Felassan. Would it even make sense to him to describe how much Felassan mattered to her when she’d only known him for a few weeks?

Dorian spoke again, and his tone was softer. “I quite like him, you know. That was a rather telling conversation to be a part of.”

“How so?” she asked.

“He has many sides,” Dorian said. “That issue with the Dalish clan…” He paused for a moment, and his voice carried no levity when he spoke again. “That was undeniably chilling. I understand why you were angry.”

“Yeah,” she said softly. 

“And yet…” Dorian paused again, and Tamaris could easily picture him stroking his mustache in thought. “You’ve been in the house together for how long now?”

“Just about a month,” she said.

“Hm,” Dorian said pensively.

She lifted an eyebrow. “What are you thinking?” 

“It’s… interesting,” Dorian said slowly. “Such a short time… but I think he knows you better than Solas did. Possibly better than I do.”

Her gut jolted at this. “What do you mean?”

“When you got angry and left our conversation, Varric and I counselled Felassan to let you have some time alone,” Dorian said. “We told him you prefer to work through it on your own when something bothers you. He refused. He said he wasn’t going to let you sit alone with this because… venhedis, what were the words he used? Something like the brightest flames deserving a gentle hand to stoke them so they don’t burn themselves out. Something like that.”

She stared at the crystal with a ringing of disbelief in her head. Felassan had said that to Dorian and Varric? The brightest flames deserving a gentle hand… He’d said that about her? It certainly sounded like something he’d say. But to say something that tender about her to her friends — to Dorian, whom he didn’t even know… 

She swallowed the lump of emotion in her throat. Then Dorian spoke again, and his voice was a little bit tentative. “It… made me think, actually. That perhaps we were… remiss by not pushing you harder to talk to us after everything happened.”

She cleared her throat. “No, it’s… it’s not your fault,” she said gruffly. “I was…” Gods, she’d been so angry for so long, and she’d become inaccessible in so many ways. It was only now with Felassan’s gentle hands building her up that she could see how much she’d shut herself away. 

“I was fucked up, Dorian,” she said. “I wasn’t letting anyone in. It’s not your fault.”

“No,” Dorian said, and Tamaris raised her eyebrows at the vehemence in his tone. “I stopped trying,” he said. “I… I think perhaps we were… scared of your intensity. You can be quite terrifying, you know.”

She huffed despite the lump in her throat. “Thanks, I guess.”

He chuckled, but his tone was somber when he spoke again. “We gave up trying to… to bring you out of your shell. And for that, I am truly sorry. And I am very glad that Felassan seems to have found a way through your shell.” His voice warmed with humour once more. “He’s quite something, isn’t he? I might have a bit of a crush. That voice of his is like a golden trap.”

Tamaris barked out a laugh. “Yeah. He caught me pretty fucking thoroughly.”

The playful words left her mouth and hung in the air between herself and Dorian, like a spritz of perfume that neither of them had expected. 

“And she shares details after all,” Dorian said gently. “I knew you had it in you.”

She didn’t reply. She just sat frozen on her bed as her own words rolled through her mind: he caught me thoroughly. All of a sudden, it was like something inside of her had crumbled, breaking apart in her chest and showing what she’d been so reluctant to see all this time. 

She could see it now though, in complete crystal clarity, almost like looking through an eluvian’s activated depths: how special Felassan was, how important he was, the possessiveness she felt for him. The desire that continued to ripen between them every day, and the laughter they shared over the stupidest jokes and teases. 

Felassan was everything she’d been terrified of letting in for the past few years, and without quite meaning to, she’d summarized her feelings for him in just a few unfiltered words to Dorian: he caught me thoroughly. She’d tried to hide from him and she’d tried to run, and she’d tried to keep him away from her most damaged parts like she’d done to everyone else. And still he’d caught her — not because he was a trap like Dorian’s joke suggested, but because he was wide open.

Felassan was a warm and open smile and wide-open arms. Tamaris had stumbled clumsily toward those wide-open arms, and Felassan had caught her. 

Dorian’s voice jolted her from her jittery reverie. “Are you still there?” 

“Yeah,” she said huskily. “I’m… I’m still here.”

“Do you have to go?” he said.

His voice was warm and understanding, and she could easily picture the curl of his smile beneath his mustache. “Yeah,” she said. “I’ll, um… I’ll call you in a couple days.”

“There’s no rush,” Dorian said. “I’m very busy and important, so I might not have time for you for a while.” 

She huffed in amusement, and Dorian chuckled. “Goodnight, Tamaris.”

“Goodnight,” she said. “And… thanks, lethallin.”

“You’re welcome, my friend,” he said. Then the sending crystal went dim.

Tamaris set it gently on the bedside table. She picked up the quill and ink, then just sat there on her bed holding them and not doing anything. 

He caught me, she thought. It still stunned her how aptly the words described her feelings for Felassan. When they’d first met, she’d been stuck in a sort of freefall of bitterness and self-isolation, barely veiled by the alcohol she’d taken to drinking every night. But Felassan tolerated her moods and her snappishness, and he’d made her laugh and helped her quit the booze. And more quickly than she’d ever imagined possible, she’d slipped into a different sort of freefall altogether – one that was more tempting and terrifying than any bottle of liquor could ever be. 

She’d started falling for Felassan. And no matter how much she resisted it, no matter how much she tried to keep him at bay and to shield her unhealed wounds from him, he’d stood there patiently with his cheeky jokes and his warm amethyst eyes and his wide-open arms. 

Tamaris had fallen for Felassan, and with his infinite patience and care, he had caught her. 

She didn’t know how long she sat there on the bed holding her ink and quill and thinking about him. But when he finally knocked on her bedroom door, she hadn’t written a single word.

As always, he stepped into her room without waiting for a response. His face was wreathed in a cheeky smile, and her blood thrilled at the sight of him, but she forced herself to give him the annoyed look that she knew he expected.

“Why do you bother knocking when you’re just going to walk right in anyway?” she asked.

“Because I have excellent manners,” he said. “Knocking is polite.”

“Walking right in is rude,” she pointed out.

“My manners are selective,” he said airily. “Sometimes a little rudeness is exactly what’s called for.” He sauntered over to the bed and gestured at it. “May I?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Since when do you ask for permission to lie on my bed?”

“Since the bed is already occupied,” he said. He eyed the blank parchment that was scattered on the bed. “You got far with your letter-writing, I see.”

His smile was teasing, and Tamaris desperately would have liked to make a clever retort, but the conversation with Dorian was still too fresh and thrilling in her mind. “I was talking to Dorian,” she said, and she started clearing her belongings from the bed to make space for him.

“Ah,” Felassan said. “How is my new best friend?” He lay down beside her and tucked his arms behind his head.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “The two of you are ridiculous. Fucking thick as thieves after one single conversation.”

He smirked. “What can I say? It was a good conversation.”

“So I heard,” Tamaris said.

He looked at her. “Did you, now?”

She tucked a curl of hair behind her ear. “Um, yeah.”

“What did you hear?” he said.

His tone was light and casual, but his face was warm and expectant and open, and… gods, Tamaris had fallen hard for him, and she couldn’t believe she’d resisted for so long.

She gazed at him in silence for a moment. Then, carefully, she shifted closer to him and straddled his hips.

His lips curled in a tiny smile, but his soft and expectant eyes never left her face. Tamaris swallowed hard, and without looking away from his precious handsome face, she peeled her sleeveless tunic over her head. 

She cast her tunic to the floor, then dropped her gaze to her hands as she unbuttoned the front clasps of her bra. She dropped her bra on the floor, then deftly unstrapped her left arm and placed it on the floor as well. And only then, when she was bared to Felassan’s gaze from the waist up, did she met his eye again. 

He was watching her intensely. His eyes were wide and hungry as they tracked over her breasts and the planes of her bare belly, and she could feel the hardening of his cock beneath her as his greedy gaze took her in. But his arms were still folded behind his head, and he was making no move to touch her. 

When his eyes finally returned to her face, her heart thumped. His eyes were glowing faintly, lit warmly from within by magic and desire. But what really stole her breath was the tenderness in his face.

A pang of nerves shot through her belly. It was a good pang, though — a pang that reminded her in no uncertain terms that she was not alone in this. She was not alone in the roiling storm of desire between them, desire that was thickened and deepened by the obvious emotion that they both shared. 

But Felassan lay quiet and still with his arms tucked behind his head. As the seconds ticked by and her heart thudded in her ears, she realized what he was waiting for — what he’d been waiting for this morning, and what he’d been waiting for all along, ever since the morning after their first time. 

He was waiting for her. He was waiting for her to act, to speak – to tell him in no uncertain terms that this was what she wanted. 

Tamaris took a deep breath. And finally, after weeks of keeping the words trapped at the back of her tongue, she let them loose.

“I want you,” she said. 

A beautiful smile lit his face, but his words were serious. “Are you sure?”

Tamaris rested her right hand on his abs and tilted her hips forward. She rubbed herself slowly against the bulge between his legs, and his smile slipped into a look of want. 

“I’m sure,” she said firmly. “I want you, Felassan. I’m ready.”

He exhaled slowly and smiled once more. “Good,” he said softly. Then, finally, he reached for her with one hand.

Her breath hitched as his fingers approached her. He placed his palm flat on her body, his fingers brushing her sternum as his thumb traced the underside of her breast, and Tamaris stopped breathing. 

Slowly and delicately, he trailed his fingers down her sternum toward her navel, and a bloom of heated anticipation burst to life between her legs at the nearness of his fingers to her groin. But his hand was slowly moving back up, his palm breezing very gently over her skin, and then he was trailing his fingertips beneath her breasts, stroking the curves of her body as though he was storing their shape in his fingertips for later.

Tamaris arched helplessly toward his teasing hand. He continued his slow and careful perusal of her skin, skimming his knuckles over the taut planes of her belly and brushing his fingers over her collarbones, and all the while he was avoiding her nipples, brushing his thumb and his knuckles around them but never over their hardened little peaks.

Within the space of a minute, Tamaris was panting and rocking her hips, and the buzzing of unfulfilled desire in her nipples was almost more than she could bear. When Felassan lowered his hand from her chest, she arched her spine and moaned.

“Please,” she begged. “Felassan, touch me!”

A smile lit his face. He carefully sat up on his elbows, then pushed himself upright without shifting her off of his lap, and Tamaris grabbed his shoulder for balance; they were face-to-face now, and his one arm was encircling her waist. He leaned in and brushed his lips over hers, and her excitement ratcheted up as she anticipated his kiss–

“Lean back,” he murmured against her lips. “Let me touch you.”

She immediately leaned back, keeping her one hand on his shoulder for support. Then Felassan dipped his head low and licked her nipple. 

A bolt of lust shot through her body straight down to her groin. She gasped and arched toward his mouth, but he kept his touch teasing and light, running his tongue over her nipple with smooth long strokes before pulling very lightly at the peak with his lips. 

Tamaris twisted desperately on his lap, but his arm was too tight around her waist, and Felassan didn’t relent; he continued to torture her nipple with little flicks of the tongue and tugs of his lips, and when he moved on to treat her other nipple with the same glorious and terrible attention, she actually sobbed. 

“You fucking tease,” she whined.

He lifted his mouth and grinned. “I’m not teasing. I’m simply savouring. The memory of your nipples in my mouth has been keeping me up at night for weeks.” 

“So suck on them already!” she burst out.

He laughed wickedly. “Why would I do that when I could have you squirming on my lap like this?” He dropped his head once more and brushed his cheek over the peak of her breast, and she let out a strained little moan.

“Felassan…” She tried to tilt her hips down to press against the bulge of his cock. Maybe if she riled him up, she could goad him into touching her more firmly. But as she twisted in the muscular grip of his arm, she realized something: he was holding her in such a way that she couldn’t rub herself against him.

“Why are you torturing me like this?” she demanded.

“Because I know you like it,” he replied.

She let out a breathy laugh. “You are such a smug asshole.”

“And you burn much more brightly when I stoke you in just the right way,” he murmured.

She darted a look at him, and her heart squeezed. Despite the salacious undertone of his words, his eyes were tender and warm.

In this moment, she realized that he knew what she and Dorian had been talking about. Felassan knew that Dorian had told her what he’d said after she’d walked away. 

But he didn’t know all of it. He didn’t know what she had told to Dorian in turn: that she had fallen hard for Felassan, and that she was so incredibly grateful to be caught.

She clasped his neck in her hand and kissed him. His lips parted for her, and she nipped his lips and stroked his tongue with hers as passionately as she could in the desperate hope that her kiss would tell him what she wanted him to know, but still wasn’t quite brave enough to say.

She gently suckled his lower lip, and he let out the most beautiful growly groan. Then his hand was curving along the side of her neck, his fingers sliding into her hair, and when he pulled her head back to kiss her throat, she mewled and twisted her hips again, to no avail. 

“Felassan, please,” she whined. He was leaving a trail of tiny open-mouthed kisses along the taut line of her neck and down, and the closer his lips got to her breast, the more she became convinced that she was going to explode before he even really touched her. 

He hummed against her collarbone, then suddenly took her nipple in his mouth and suckled hard, and she cried out in surprise and clasped his neck to hold him close. He pulled her nipple deeply into his mouth like he was trying to draw all of the pleasure in her body toward the perfect hard pressure of his lips, and just when Tamaris was starting to feel some relief, he released her. 

She dug her nails into his neck. “Felassan, just – fuck me!” she blurted.

He burst out a little laugh, then suddenly rolled her over. The next thing she knew, she was sprawled on her back beneath him. 

He placed a tiny teasing kiss on her breast. “You’re so impatient. But I’m not sure you’re ready.”

She laughed giddily and lifted her hips toward him. “This again? You’re so fucking mean.”

He tutted and rolled her nipple between his fingers. “Don’t slander me. I’m not mean; I’m extremely nice. In fact, I am so nice that I shall check to make sure you’re ready for me.” He sat back on his knees and started unlacing her breeches, and she panted and twisted her hips restlessly until her breeches were undone. By the time his deft fingers were finally pulling her breeches and smallclothes down, her smalls were so wet that they clung to her for a moment before finally peeling away.

Felassan let out a slow and breathy groan, then reached down and ran his palm over his bulging groin. Satisfied by his reaction, Tamaris lifted her hips and spread her legs. “Does that mean I’m ready?” she asked cheekily. 

He lifted his eyes to her face, and another bolt of excitement coursed through her blood: his cheeks were flushed, and his eyes were aglow. “I’m not sure,” he said. “I think I need a closer look. Maybe a taste.”

She burst out a breathy laugh. “You’re so full of– oh gods!” His head was between her legs, and she arched and clenched her fingers in the sheets: Felassan was devouring her, his mouth moving between her legs in a ravenous rhythm of open-mouthed kisses and long hungry laps of his tongue, and for a moment she just lay there gasping for breath, stunned by the torrid heat of his lips and tongue as he drank in the evidence of desire that he’d fostered between her legs. He clasped her thighs and held her wide as he kissed her sex, and it really felt like he was tasting her, like he was taking the time to feast on every fold of her flesh and every drop of slippery nectar that heralded her desperate want. 

Then his attention honed onto her clit. His ravenous mouth became gentle and slow – oh fuck, so gentle and slow: he was doing nothing more now than brushing his lower lip over her swollen clit, and it felt so fucking good and so fucking torturous that she lifted her head to stare pleadingly at him.

A pulse of excitement made her lightheaded: he was looking at her, too. His beautiful amethyst eyes were glowing and his cheeks and ears were flushed, and he was looking directly at her face while he caressed her clit with his lower lip.

A hint of a smile curled the corner of his mouth. Without breaking her gaze, Felassan ran his tongue over her clit, and she gasped and stared breathlessly into his eyes, stunned by desire and by the sheer intimacy of this act. Having him watching her while he feasted on her, knowing that she was watching him… There was something so intimate about it, almost more intimate than the act itself, and as he licked her and kissed her and brought her toward her peak while gazing into her eyes, she knew that the pounding of her heart was more than just sheer lust. 

She stared at him, lightheaded with pleasure and want and the fervency of her own affection. He gazed steadily at her in turn, his eyes glittering with magic and with carnal intent, and only when her climax suddenly burst did she break from his hypnotic gaze.

She slammed her head back into the pillows and let out a visceral cry. Felassan was still licking her clit, lavishing the sensitive bud with gentle little laps while his palms smoothed along the insides of her thighs, and when Tamaris’s scintillating climax ebbed away, he finally lifted his mouth from between her legs. 

He wiped his mouth on her belly, then shifted up higher on the bed to lounge beside her, but his hand was still drifting over her inner thigh. “Did you enjoy that, avise?” he murmured. 

She nodded, feeling too good and too spent to talk, and Felassan smirked. “Yes? You liked watching me while I slid my tongue over that tight little nub between your legs?”

A fresh shiver of lust pulsed between legs. “Yes,” she breathed.

He nodded thoughtfully. Then he curved his fingers against the sensitive folds of her sex. “Did you enjoy staring at me while I made you come all over my tongue?” he asked.

His tone was innocent, but his voice was so fucking smooth, and his fingers lying still against her body were sheer torture. She gasped and bucked her hips toward his hand. “Fuck’s sake, Felassan, yes!”

He angled his wrist and slid two fingers inside of her, and she cried out and arched her back. Then Felassan pressed his lips to her ear. “Ar em hartha al emathast’sulahn mar asreun’en bellanaris,” he purred. 

Oh fuck, she thought deliriously. This was what he’d been threatening for weeks, the words in his own native tongue–

He curled his fingers inside of her. She mewled and grabbed his shirt, and he spoke into her ear again. “Ir silras ahnsul al palash’odhe mar blardhea.” 

“Felassan,” she whined. She didn’t know what he was saying, but — but fuck it, he was right: there was something about the rhythm of his words, the tone and liquid lilt of his accent shaped around the ancient Elvhen words, and it was doing something wonderful to her, even though she couldn’t discern his meaning. 

He slid his fingers inside of her in a slow and careful thrust. “Ir’emah diana’ma sule ma tela odhea i’tel em,” he murmured, and Tamaris sobbed and twisted helplessly beneath him. His fingers were swirling inside of her, and as Felassan continued to whisper in her ear, it felt like his words were swirling inside of her as well. His fluid Elvhen words were finding something hidden in her blood and bringing it to life, making her feel more alive and in tune with the feeling of his fingers curling inside of her and striking the perfect place of pleasure inside of her body–

She came suddenly, to her own surprise, and she was so taken aback by the suddenness of her climax that she couldn’t even cry out. She couldn’t breathe or say a word; all she could do was lie arching and splayed on her bed as the pleasure of his fingers and his words spanned and pulsed through her entire body from her scalp all the way to the tips of her toes. 

When she could finally breathe again, all she could manage was the faintest moan. Felassan chuckled, then lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Does it hurt?” he asked.

For some reason, his voice was curled with humour. She took a deep breath, then spoke on a moan. “Does what hurt?” 

“Your chest,” he said. 

My chest? she thought in confusion. She opened her eyes and looked down at her chest, and her eyebrows leapt up.

There were long red marks across her chest – scoremarks from her own nails. She’d scratched herself in the throes of her rapture, and she hadn’t even noticed. 

“Oh shit,” she said. She burst out a breathy laugh, then groaned and stretched languidly on the bed. “I didn’t even feel that.”

“Too busy feeling other things?” Felassan said slyly.

She admired his gorgeous cheeky grin, then rolled toward him and pushed him onto his back. “Get naked,” she said. 

He tsked. “There you go, commanding me again.” He sat up and pulled his shirt over his head, then started unlacing his breeches, and Tamaris watched avidly the laces came undone. 

He lifted his hips and started pushing down his breeches, and she was amused to note once again that he was wearing no underwear. “All right,” he said playfully. “Are you satisfi–”

She surged toward him and kissed him, cutting off his playful words, and then she was straddling him and clutching his shoulder for support while she rubbed her slick cleft along the length of his cock.

He moaned loudly into her mouth and grabbed her shoulder blades, and Tamaris greedily swallowed the sound of his pleasure as she curled her hips toward him. He was so gorgeously hard and smooth, and his fingers were sliding firmly from her shoulder blades down her back as though he was savouring her skin beneath his fingers. She rocked against him, spreading her slickness along the length of his cock, and he broke from their kiss with a gasp.

“Tamaris,” he moaned. He grabbed her hips and tried to lift her, but she tensed her thighs and went still.

Felassan’s eyes darted to her face. “Is something wrong?” he panted. 

She twisted her lips wryly. “I just don’t think you’re ready.”

He stared at her for a second. Then a wicked smile burst across his face. “Oh, avise,” he said, and he laughed. “You can’t withhold from me.”

“I’m not withholding,” she said innocently. “I really don’t think you’re ready. I’d better take a closer look.” She slid off of his lap and shuffled down between his legs, then braced her weight on her shortened left arm and brushed her lips over the head of his cock.

He grunted with pleasure and lifted his hips, and Tamaris purposely lifted her head to look at him. “I want to know what you said to me in Elvhen,” she said.

“I said a lot of things to you in Elvhen,” he replied. His smile was cheeky but the light in his eyes was an urgent glow, and Tamaris admired the obvious lust in his face before lowering her head toward his cock.

Felassan jerked his hips, and she lifted her head once more without touching him with her mouth. “Tell me some of the things you said,” she demanded.

He exhaled shakily and smiled. “Whatever happened to enjoying a little mystery?”

She took his cock in her mouth and all way down her throat, and the sound he made… gods, it was guttural and animalistic and full of desire, and it was almost enough to make her give up the teasing act and fuck him. 

With an immense effort of will, she resisted. She slowly released his cock, then sat back on her heels. “Tell me, Felassan,” she said, and she placed her hand on his thigh, teasingly close to his cock. 

His eyes glittered with heat as they focused on her hand. “So cruelly insistent. One thing I said was this: ‘I could listen to the symphony of your orgasms forever.’”

A ripple of want burned down her throat toward her belly. She took his cock in her fist and pumped him once, and he leaned his head back with another gorgeous groan.

“Tamaris…” he breathed.

She stroked his length once more, then released him. “What else did you say?”

He lifted his head to look at her with his luminous eyes. “I also said this: ‘I am drunk on the perfume of your pussy.’”

Oh fuck, she thought feverishly. She crawled back up his body to straddle his hips and rubbed her slick heat against the length of his cock. “What else did you say?” she panted.

He moaned and squeezed her hip. “Tamaris, I need you…”

“Is that something you said?”

“It is something I’m saying now,” he said sharply.

She smiled at his snappish tone, then leaned in and brushed her lips over the tip of his ear. “Tell me something else you said,” she whispered.

He suddenly wrapped his fist in her hair and pulled her head to the side, and she cried out with pleasure at the sudden pull. He lifted his hips to rub against her pussy and dragged his tongue along the side of her neck, and by the time his lips were at her ear, she was practically sobbing with want.

“‘I’m going to fill you up until you can’t breathe without me’,” he growled. “That is something else I said. Can I do as I promised now, or have you not had enough of provoking me?”

“Yes!” she gasped.

He nipped her neck. “Yes to what?” he demanded.

“Yes, I want you to fill me up!” she cried.

He smiled against her ear. “That’s all you had to say,” he purred. He released her hair and lifted her hips, then started slowly lowering her onto his cock.

She mewled and dug her nails into Felassan’s shoulder, and he burst out a guttural breath. “Ar iselana mana per ma...” he moaned. 

She panted for breath and didn’t reply, and he continued to fill her up inch by blissful inch. When she was fully seated on his cock, they exhaled together in a groan at the completeness of their melding bodies. 

He slid his palms from her thighs up to her hips, and Tamaris wrapped her arm around his neck. In tandem, they began moving together in a languid rolling rhythm. 

Tamaris slowly curled her hips to meet him and pressed her forehead to his. “What did you just say?” she breathed. 

He let out a breathy groan and stroked her back. “I said… I said that I have waited so long for you.”

She went still for a moment, and Felassan cradled her neck. “And I would have continued to wait,” he murmured. “I told you before, avise. Some things are worth waiting for.”

She stared wordlessly into his steady violet eyes. A bloom of emotion burst in her chest and spread through her rib cage, rising up through her throat and pressing at the back of her eyes, and when Felassan’s expression grew tender, she knew that he could see it too. 

She kissed him and flexed her hips to take him deep. He slid his arms around her, and then he was hugging her tightly as he filled her with his cock, and as Tamaris suckled his tongue and breathed against his lips, she wished she had two whole arms if only to hold him just as tightly as he was holding her. 

She hugged him with her right arm and rested her stunted left arm on his shoulder. Without breaking the rolling grind of their hips or breaking from her kiss, Felassan reached up and stroked her shortened arm, smoothing his hand firmly from her shoulder down to the stump and back, and the bloom of affection in her chest only seemed to swell more hotly than before. 

She kissed him hard, then broke from his lips to breathe against his cheek. “Move me how you want me,” she whispered. He’d pleased her so much already, with his mouth and his hands and his filthy Elvhen words, and the slow thrust of his cock was pleasing her all the more, and all she wanted was to make him feel just as good. 

He squeezed her shortened left arm, then slid his arms around her once more. “This is how I want you,” he told her. “A slow-burning flame for this slow arrow.” 

She smiled against his cheek. “That’s a lot of words to say – ah — that you like what I’m doing already.” 

His pleasured groan drifted across her ear, followed by his husky voice. “I know how much you like my words. And I am very good with them. Did you know that I was once a very good spy–”

“Shut up,” she laughed breathily, and she took his lips in another kiss. She cradled his neck and rolled against his lap in a slow and steady grind, and Felassan licked her tongue and stroked her back and lifted his hips to meet her, and despite the distracting bliss of his body meeting with hers, Tamaris was careful to note when his hips became more jerky and his kisses more firm.

He broke from her lips with a breathy grunt, and Tamaris’s excitement flared anew; his eyes were glowing once more, glittering with the kind of hot luminance that meant his control was starting to slip. She lifted her hips and came down more firmly on his cock, and he jolted and grabbed her hip. 

“Ah,” he gasped. “That — Tamaris–”

He didn’t need to say anything more; without any further cueing, Tamaris began to fuck him in a hard and rapid rise-and-fall. 

She clasped his neck and gazed into his eyes. He was staring at her too, his eyes glazed and feverish with need, and as Tamaris continued to lift and lower herself on the slick length of his cock, his face began to twist with the most beautiful expression of longing.

“Tamaris,” he begged. 

“I know,” she breathed. She kissed him once more, then turned his head to the side and nipped his neck. 

He gasped out the most beautiful pleasured sound, and she felt his cock jerking inside of her. She kissed and licked his neck, then started sucking on his skin with just enough pressure to hurt. His breathing grew erratic beside her ear and his cock became even harder, striking even deeper inside of her body, and Tamaris whimpered and bit his neck.

He dug his nails into her shoulder blade and cried out in climax, and Tamaris hugged him with her right arm as he groaned and panted and shuddered ecstatically beneath her. She continued to roll against him, taking his thickness into her body and savouring his length as he filled her up, and when his shuddering stilled and his fingers went lax against her back, she finally went still on his lap.

She brushed her lips over his temple, then down to his jaw. He sighed languidly and leaned his head to the side, and Tamaris happily took advantage of the angle to nuzzle the side of his neck.

She kissed and licked his neck, and he let out another lazy sigh and ran his hand over her curly hair. “Are you hungry? I can make you something. You don’t need to feed on the salt from my skin.”  

She lifted her lips. “I thought you liked it when I suck on your neck.”

“I love it when you suck on my neck,” he said.

She stroked his cheek, then brushed her lips over his ear. “Then stop complaining,” she whispered.

He laughed – that perfect, lilting roll of a laugh — then lifted her off of his lap and settled her on the bed so they were lying face-to-face. “Abrasive and tender in a single breath,” he said. “What a quixotic marvel you are.”

His palm was moving in a slow and lazy stroke along the side of her hip. She smiled goofily at him, but she couldn’t help but compare their current pose to the way they’d fallen asleep last night. They’d been lying face-to-face like this last night, and Felassan had been gazing at her in this soft and tender way. But this moment now was so much better than last night. Now, his face wasn’t tinted with sadness and ravaged with tears. Now, their skin was completely bare and dappled with the shared dampness of each other’s sweat and sex. 

Now, Tamaris could finally admit to herself that she had fallen in love with Felassan. 

“What’s on your mind?” he murmured.

I love you, she thought. But she still couldn’t tell him yet. The admission was still too fresh in her mind, too new and too tender to release into the air, and despite the unmitigated depth of her feelings, she wasn’t quite ready to tell him yet. 

 “I think I am hungry after all,” she said. “Can you bring me a snack?”

He smiled slowly at her, then pulled her against his body. “I take back that offer,” he grumbled. “You’re getting far too pampered.” 

“Spoilsport,” she said. Then she squealed when his fingers crept teasingly over her ribs.

“Don’t tickle!” she gasped, but he didn’t give in, and soon she was helpless with laughter beneath him. 

She grabbed his hand to stop him. “Okay,” she wheezed. “Okay, okay, I don’t need a snack.” 

He lifted his hand to cradle her neck. “That’s a relief,” he said. “Because I’m not willing to leave this bed anytime soon.” 

She gazed happily into his perfect violet eyes, then tilted her chin up for a kiss. I’ll tell him soon, she thought. Soon, she would find the courage to tell him that she loved him. 

But for now, she would linger in the heat of his sweat-laced skin, and she would enjoy the precious feeling of being caught.

[lostinfantasies38]

14 Days of DA Lover’s - Day 8: Patching Up

@scharoux @14daysofdalovers

Pairing: Lace Harding/F!Lavellan  

If you are enjoying my work and want to catch any stories you may have missed, here is the series on AO3

Tending You

A moan sounded behind them, instantly spurring her team to snatch their discarded weapons. Alys stole on soft feet, trying to avoid the deep mud that threatened to capture her boots and throw her face first into the muck. The elf reached the outcropping where the noise emanated from, expecting to find a walking corpse they missed in the original skirmish.

“Lace! Creators! Bull, help me!”

The qunari snatched the smaller woman and raced her back to base with the Inquisitor hot on their heels. Alys tried not to think of Lace’s usually lively cheeks devoid of color or the gash in her abdomen stained with blood under the dwarf’s hand. Tents were useless in the Fallow Mire, so the scouts commandeered the nearby cabins for shelter and they tumbled into the nearest one.

Dorian beat them back to camp, clearing off the lower bunk to allow the warrior to lay the woman on the mattress. The mage gingerly peeled back the woman’s sticky leathers, apologizing for his part in causing her pain when she hissed at the movement. Sighing in relief, Dorian smiled reassuringly to the anxious scout.

“A flesh wound. It has damaged nothing vital. It needs to be cleaned and stitched, but with a healing potion and daily applications of a poultice, it will heal.”

Dorian lifted her soaked armor to remove it and Lace stiffened, her green eyes flicking from the Inquisitor to the men hovering in the room and a protectiveness roared within the elf. “Men, out! This is for women only.”

Her companions blinked at her in wide-eyed surprise, only rivaled by the dumbfounded expression gracing the scout’s freckled features. Alys stepped closer to the bed, hands on her hips, ignoring that her usual imposing stature was less so in her saturated state. Iron Bull glanced between the women and smirked, tapping Dorian on the shoulder, tossing his pack on the table as they left.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Alys turned to Lace with a warm smile. The dwarven woman fidgeted uncomfortably. “Inquisitor, you-you don’t have to tend to me. One of my scouts can do it. We’re used to helping each other in the field.”

“Lace, please. Let me take care of you, for once. And what did I say about calling me Inquisitor?”

She blushed, smiling shyly at the elven woman, “It’s a tough habit to break, Alys. If I get too comfortable, I’ll start name dropping among the scouts and give them the wrong idea.”

Alys’s stomach twisted, even as she smiled in the quiet room and eased the dwarf out of her ruined armor. Outer layers removed, leaving her in breast band and smalls, she tucked the woman under a blanket while she set up her tools. Shucking her own drenched clothes, Alys pulled on a dry sleeping tunic, so she could work without polluting the wound and snatched a kettle to boil water for cleaning the area. Digging in Bull’s pack she found the kit that held the needles and catgut for stitching and the numbing cream, a recipe from her clan, that came in handy for field suturing.

With the water boiled, she quickly washed her hands and her tools before pouring the remainder in a clean basin with some elfroot and prophet’s laurel to disinfect the wound. Locating her clean cloths and bandages, Alys kneeled on the rug peeking underneath the bed, smiling tenderly at the dwarf as she set up her materials.

Rolling back the blanket, she breathed in relief as she fully examined the wound. A gash in the ample flesh of her right side, but dwarves carried an extra layer of padding on their physique, shielding her muscles from injury. The edges were jagged and would probably scar, but Lace would live and that was all she cared about.

“You’re too quiet. It’s making me nervous,” the dwarf whispered. She hummed appreciatively as the elf’s warm hands danced along her skin. Alys murmured a soft apology at her gasp with the sudden temperature increase as hot water bathed her tender flesh.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s hot, but it’s not deep. Just a few passes to clean it out.” Alys’s free hand tangled with one of Lace’s freckled ones, and the dwarf didn’t protest, instead clinging to it as an anchor against the flushing of her wound. Every tug and lavage of the injury pulled small gasps from her lips that almost broke Alys’s heart. When she finally set aside the basin, the dwarf was not the only one trembling.

“I’m okay. It’s okay. Y-you did what you had to…I don’t blame you,” the scout panted, sweat dotting her brow. “I just couldn’t swear…not in front of the Inquisitor.” She gave a strained laugh at the elf’s eye roll.

“Fuck, Lace. You know I’m the last one who gives a damn about propriety or being the ‘Herald of Andraste.’ Drop all the curses you want. I’m sure yours are quite inventive, traveling the world with a bunch of mouthy soldiers.”

Her bark of laughter was robust, full-bodied and heady, like one of Dorian’s vintage wines and Alys’s pulse increased in response. Releasing her hand with regret, she produced a health potion from her materials and gently lifted the dwarf’s head so she could drink it. Alys held her breath as Lace’s lips puckered around the edge of the flask. Her gaze flicked to her bright green eyes and found them locked on her.

She no longer heard the rain pouring outside or the crackling of the hearth nor saw the cozy one room cabin. All her focus was on the woman she thought she might lose and hadn’t yet told how she felt. As Lead Scout, she was the first to arrive in new regions to set up a base of operations and make sure it was secure for the Inquisitor. How many near death experiences had she had that Alys didn’t know about? Would she have told her? Had she ever asked?

“Lace…”

“Alys?”

Setting aside the empty flask, Alys cupped Lace’s face in her slender hands and leaned forward to press her lips to the rosy, pillowy ones that were a constant source of fascination for her. The dwarf froze. Mentally cursing herself, Alys pulled back, an apology on her tongue, when Lace grabbed her tunic and snatched her back with a blissful sigh. Relaxing into the kiss, Alys languidly caressed her full lips, savoring the sweetness under the bitter tang of elfroot and wondered why in the Creator’s name she had waited so long.

When they finally separated, panting after months of pining realized, she smiled at the glazed expression of her patient. Touching her forehead reverently, she kissed the tip of Lace’s nose, pulling a surprised giggle from the dwarven woman.

“I’m sorry. I should be tending to you, not –“

“Fuck, Alys,” she teased, mirth shining in her green eyes. “You are tending to me.” The elf flushed slightly at the insistence in her tone.

“Still, let me finish getting you patched up, okay? Once you’re bandaged, we’ll bundle you in one of my tunics and blankets so you can rest.”

A gentle brush of fingers against her cheek halted her retreat and she turned her wide eyes to the dwarf. “I’ll only rest if you stay with me,” she murmured shyly. With a soft kiss of her lips across Lace’s hand, Alys nodded with a tender smile.

“For you, I would do anything.”

[hadiden-lavellan]

14 Days of DA Lovers - Fighting Together

Pairing: Cullen x F!Lavellan Words: 1131 There was something very calming about teaching. Teaching and mentoring young mages, training them to see the beauty in mage instead of fearing a gift given to them. While Celestia should have been the last person to consider magic a gift, she held her abilities very dearly. Celestia wasn’t very old when she learned that her father was actually one of the tranquil mages in Kirkwall’s Gallows. He roamed the Gallows, selling useless trinkets as a reward for time well spent in the Circle. The Templars wouldn’t allow for her to be around the man, claiming him a criminal for his part in creating Celestia, as well as her mother. The day she watched her mother join her father as a tranquil mage…The pounding in Celestia’s head increased as memories flooded back, remembering seeing her mother standing next to Edrin, watching them discussing something. Instead of running over to her, to ask her mother why she was standing with her father, one of the Templars had grabbed her arm. The Templar had kept her still, allowing Celestia to weakly fight against him, demanding to go to her mother. The man helped her, unable to let go, but followed the crying mage to the ground as she sobbed. The brand of the Andrastian sun was placed on both her parents’ foreheads. Both would stare at her lifelessly, as though they had no idea who she was. Celestia was alone. “Be damned Carver,” Celestia mumbled as she scribbled onto a piece of parchment paper. Carver Hawke was a good man and a good Templar, but if he hadn’t held her back, she would have been in more trouble with the Knight Commander-“You’re working late?” A voice called. The half elf perked up, her eyes coming up to meet soft bronze eyes. Kirkwall came flooding back to her, seeing those soft eyes so hateful, so angry, and Celestia was just as mad at the time. Kirkwall was not a fond memory either shared, both avoiding it. “I tend to do that,” She said absently. There was a lot on Celestia’s mind aside from just writing down her next lessons for her apprentices. After the talk she had with the Inquisitor, as well as Lady Cassandra, Celestia needed some space. But Cullen wasn’t quite accepting her silence or vague answers. As she lowered her head, dark purple eyes focusing back on the scribbles on the page, strong hands appeared on the side of her page. “Celestia, are you all right?” What could she say? What was it that needed to ask him? Oh. Softly, Celestia placed her charcoal down and looked up. Their eyes met, and Cullen was offering a smile. His little dimple was showing, and Celestia felt her heart melt just a bit. “Do you truly want to know?” She asked, voice a bit more stern than she would have liked. “Of course,” Cullen said without hesitation, but his voice gave away his worry. He often stressed himself by over stressing certain things, but Celestia figured this wasn’t the time for him to over think. This was going to be all honesty. “When were you going to tell me what you’re not taking lyrium?” The woman asked, pushing away from her desk and standing. Bronze eyes followed her form up, mouth open in shock and surprise. “When were you going to tell me that you aren’t taking it, and that not taking it is slowly killing you?” The silence between the two could have been cut with a sword and still wouldn’t have been broken. It seemed that Cullen didn’t expect that question, his mouth hanging open as though he was punched in the gut. Celestia felt bad, but it had been on her mind all day. Why would Cullen risk his life like that? Why would he try to kill himself by not taking his lyrium? “You found out,” He said calmly, his shoulders tensing and his posture changing from relaxed to on guard. “I’m assuming the Inquisitor-” “My cousin told me what he could, after I demanded it.” Celestia was crossing her arms. “I also asked the Seeker, just to make sure. Why didn’t I know?” “Celestia-” “This is serious, Cullen!” She was upset. After having all over her family taken from her, forcefully being forced to forget her, memories faded with the tie to the Fade, Celestia didn’t want to lose Cullen. “Do you know what happens to former Templars when they stop taking it abruptly? Do you know the complications?” Instead of backing down, Cullen stood straight again, matching Celestia’s posture as he crossed his arms across his chest. He wasn’t as bold, his features still shocked and even, but he didn’t look like a child caught in the act of stealing cookies. “I know what I need to know,” Cullen said. Celestia scoffed, rolling her eyes. “And you didn’t think to come ask the mage that knows about lyrium?” She asked, voice harsh and breaking. “Did you even consider how I would feel knowing this? Knowing that you’re attempting to harm yourself more by just stopping?” “Are you trying to tell me to take the lyrium?” Cullen asked, stepping closer to the table. As he moved, Celestia moved. “Are you really trying to change what the Inquisitor told me to do?” Celestia gritted her teeth as she back away, throwing her hands in the arm. “I just want to know why I didn’t know, Cullen!” She spun around, facing away from her lover. Celestia’s arms wrapped around her tightly as she felt as though she would cave in on herself. “I want honesty! I want to know what’s wrong because I don’t want to lose you! You’re my everything.” While Celestia still had Hadiden, a long lost family member, she couldn’t bear to lose Cullen. Hadiden had Dorian and the Inquisition, two things that would keep him whole for a long time. He didn’t need Celestia to grow, to enjoy life, to love. Celestia only had Hadiden and Cullen, the only two that really cared for her.  “Because you act like this,” Cullen said. “You speak like I wanted to hurt you, wanted to keep it all private. I was going to tell you.” “Then how about you tell me when I care to talk to you?” She asked, spinning around to face Cullen again and moving around the table. The smaller half elf was standing chest to chest to the Commander, tears gently rolling down her cheeks. “Consider finding me again when you plan on telling me everything.” Silence grew between the pair, the unsettling feeling only growing as neither one spoke. Finally, Celestia spoke. “Get out of this tower,” She said, voice steady and calm. “I’m angry and don’t want to say something terrible.”

[vecna]

Oohh for the fandom meme! Dragon Age?

Send me a fandom!

Oh boy, this is going to be spicy.

It’s also very Anders-negative, so apologies up front.

The character(s) I first fell in love with:

I’m actually not sure which was the FIRST, but it’s a tie between Morrigan and Alistair. I saw fanart of them going around at the time Origins first released, and that’s what got me to try the game! 

Alistair was a breath of fresh air, because at the time, I was used to warrior men in games being all Edgy and Rough, and he was the total opposite and a sweetheart.

And Morrigan was just instantly my goth wife, and had Claudia Black as a VA, so I was sold immediately.

Both still hold a special place for me!

The character(s) I never expected to love as much as I do now:

Loghain is the main one. He does a lot of truly reprehensible shit in the first game. But once I sat down and read the prequel novels about young Loghain, plus saw what he’s like if you recruit him, he grew on me A LOT and now he’s a top fave.

Nathaniel I expected to hate as soon as I saw his name + who his father was, but then the expansion came out and I ended up loving that dude almost immediately. I really wish he was around more after Awakening, and also really wish he’d been a romance option, especially for a Cousland haha.

Merrill is a weird one because she was totally uninteresting to me in DA:O, so when they announced her as a companion in DA2 I was like, “Ehhhh.” Then they punked me by making her adorable and sweet and now I love her.

Plus a bunch of side-characters like The Architect? I liked him a bunch in the novel + Awakening – although I found his Plan in the novel much more appealing. But as the years have gone by, I keep surprising myself at just HOW disappointed I am he’s never appeared again haha.

The character(s) everyone else loves that I don’t:

There’s a few, and all of them will get me yelled at, but here we go.

First: Isabela. This one’s a bit complicated, but it really just boils down to her attitude towards how you play your character. I actively dislike characters who are super sexual – regardless of gender. But Isabela in particular bothers me because she’s constantly pushing her lewdness and sexual humor on you, and when you try to discourage it, she admonishes you with, “Well, you’re no fun.” Her whole character is just… like that for me. Super pushy, overly lewd, gets uppity when you don’t have the same ~liberated~ opinions she does, and this is all played up in the writing like she’s this Empowered Woman the player absolutely must love, especially if they’re playing a male character lol. I hate her for the same reasons a lot of people hate Liara in Mass Effect, but with the addition of pushy lewd jokey characters always rubbing me the wrong way.

Second: Iron Bull. I’ve written a lot about why he makes me more uncomfortable than any fictional character I’ve ever encountered, and I just outright hate him, he makes my skin crawl. If you want details, feel free to DM me, I don’t really want to rant about it again publicly.

Third: Anders. Again, I’ve written a lot about him before, but. I hated him in Awakening, for a lot of the same reasons I hate Isabela in DA2. But the changes they made to him in DA2 are just kinda :/. While I absolutely agree with him about Mage Rights, the level of preachiness they added to him drove me nuts, and the fact that you’re painted as a Bad Guy if you don’t like him blowing up the chantry. And from a purely OOC standpoint: He’s become a figurehead for all the aggressive Discourse people in the fandom, and if I see someone list Anders in their sidebar bio, I know pre-emptively that their blog is going to be full of 6 page long essays of meta about how everything is Problematic, and no thanks.

To a lesser extent, I’m also not fond of Zevran. But in his case, it’s not anything major like the others, I’m just tired of Bioware’s habit of making the bisexual characters overly lewd sex-focused rogues/deviants.

The character(s) I love that everyone else hates:

Loghain, lol.

But also Sebastian Vael? There’s so much about him that I find genuinely fascinating, especially regarding his backstory, and his struggles between his feelings of responsibility to his family vs his dedication to the Chantry and bettering himself. He’s such a dear character to me, and such a pivotal part of any playthrough, I’m always blown away when I remember he’s a DLC character and many people don’t have him.

HOWEVER Anders being the fandom darling means that people tend to unfairly shit on Sebastian for reacting poorly to the Chantry explosion. People also like to label him as a poster child of a White Straight Church Boy, while refusing to acknowledge he’s… not straight, and not exactly a church boy either lol.

Also Vivienne, but I think that one’s really self-explanatory. I love her, and she gives a really needed perspective on the Circle, since most of the mage companions previously were apostates. But of course, she gets written off as a Chantry apologist, and an uppity bitch, when people would def love her for the same traits if she was not black lol.

The character(s) I used to love but don’t any longer:

Justice. And by extension, Anders. A lot of people like to rant about how Justice ruined Anders, but I always saw it the other way around.Justice was my favorite character in Awakening. The whole concept around him, that he was a Fade spirit who took human form and was experiencing life for the first time was SO fascinating. I felt like there was so much to explore there with his character.

Buuuut then they had him merge with Anders. With the narrative being that he WAS a spirit of Justice, but the moment he connected with Anders, it corrupted his entire spirit into something he wasn’t anymore. So essentially, the character I used to love no longer exists, thanks to Anders. And it reminds me of that phrase recently, about how the destination is so terrible you can no longer enjoy the journey? I can’t even appreciate Justice in Awakening anymore, knowing what happens to him.

To a lesser extent, Corypheus. He was SO COOL and the premise of him was AMAZING when he first appeared in the DA2 DLC, but then Inquisition had to go and turn him into a weird shallow mustache twirl villain.

The character(s) I would totally smooch:

None? Idk I don’t really have the Smooch Fictional Character gene.

The character(s) I’d want to be like:

MAEVARIS TILANI. May I one day finally have the confidence in my identity that she does, and also marry a sweet bear man who adores me.

The character(s) I’d slap:

Too many to list, really. Probably Anders.

The pairing(s) that I love:

THERE’S SO MANY. And most of them are with the PC, because I generally don’t ship NPCs together. But my top 3 are:

M!Hawke / Fenris is my ultimate OTP in the Dragon Age series, by a long-shot. Not even sure where to start on how much I love it, but two damaged guys leaning on each other to work through their respective loneliness and trauma is MY JAM. And lmao I love silver-sideburned Hawke chillin in retirement somewhere but being a supportive husband while Fenris goes off hunting the Bad Guys, it’s great.

Solas / Lavellan is a close second, with the caveat that I increasingly prefer it with a male Lavellan. Having the Inquisitor in love with Solas just changes the entire tone of the game for me, for the better, and him actually being the villain trying to end the world while in love with this normie elf is just (chef kiss). Too bad I’m burned out by how overly spammed it is.

Dorian / Inquisitor is in third, I will just always be fond of how it’s a story of the Inquisitor helping Dorian be happy with who he is, escape an abusive family, and realize that he’s allowed to be loved. Good shit good shit.

Some others:

Warden / Morrigan is probably my favorite Origins ship, and that only intensified with the way she talks about the Warden in Inquisition, esp if they’re Kieran’s other parent. What a cute goth family, regardless of the Warden’s gender, cause you can pry Bi Morrigan from my cold dead fingers.

Cassandra / Inquisitor might have a lot of Romance Cliches, but I adore it – although, similar others, I increasingly prefer it with a female Inquisitor. I actively dislike the weird no-homo rejection with her, and come on, a lady Inquisitor being her Knight In Shining Armor is just good storytelling.

Cullen / Inquisitor, for a lot of the same reasons as Cassandra. I love me a cliche romance, but I’m also fond of the narrative w/ him of someone he loves helping him heal through the lyrium withdrawals and take time to rest.

Josephine / F!Inquisitor is just adorable all around, and wholesome, and great.

Varric / Hawke COME ON HOW WAS THIS NOT AN OPTION.

On the rarepair end:

Sebastian / Hawke doesn’t seem like it would be a rarepair – you’d think everyone who loves Cullen/Inquisitor would love this one too. I do! But alas. That said, I’m also pretty aggro about this one with a male Hawke because SEBASTIAN IS CANON BI. WHY WAS HIS ROMANCE STRAIGHT.

Maric / Loghain is a rarepair I will take with me to my grave LOL. Never forget the scene where Maric thought Loghain was leaving, and bolted across the camp with almost no clothes on to beg Loghain to stay. Come on.

Nathaniel / Cousland is dear to me, and I love it so much more than Alistair / Cousland haha.

Greagoir / Wynne, I can’t believe this got validated in canon ahhhh.

The pairing(s) that I despise:

Again: THERE’S SO MANY.

Iron Bull / Dorian is my least fave by a longshot. Again, I have written about why I hate this pairing a great many times, but it’s awful and toxic and makes me deeply uncomfortable, and I could happily go the rest of my life without seeing anything about it ever again. Please keep poor Dorian away from that man. He deserves someone that doesn’t sexually harass him until he’s finally worn down into dubious consent (while drunk) and then outted to everyone about it.

Isabela / Fenris. Sorry, but it’s just bad writing that Fenris bails on Hawke because the physical intimacy triggered his PTSD and he needs space to process, but then will turn around and have a casual sex relationship with Isabela instead. Yikes.

Anders / Fenris. Aveline / Isabela. Alistair / Morrigan. All of the DA2 Hawke/companion rivalmances. I don’t enjoy “these two people hate and antagonize and want to kill each other… but they fuck” in any form.

Cullen / Amell. Yikes.

And basically ALL of the canon wlw pairings in this series suffer from the fact they have men writing them, and as a result they’re almost always some kind of abusive or racist, and skeeve me out. See: Celene / Briala, Leliana / Marjolaine, Branka / Hespith, etc. Please Bioware, I’m begging you to consult some actual queer women. It’s insane how badly they’re treated compared to how the canon mlm couples are written.

FINALLY, I recognize this will be the most unpopular of all, but. As much as I love M!Hawke/Fenris, I just honestly cannot stand seeing F!Hawke/Fenris. There are some pairings where I’m so attached to the m/m or f/f version, I cannot deal with the m/f version anymore, and that’s one of them. (The others are mainly non-Bioware.)

[just-emotionalistic]

Inquisitor Asks: 6, 20, 36 and 46? :)

Crap I forgot to mention how many inquisitors I've got lol, it took me so long to write all this down ;;;;

From the Inquisitors Asks Meme:

6. Who did they romance and why?

Boithea Lavellan - She romanced Solas, she just felt this...connection to him. Although, she didn't appreciate how anti-Dalish he was, but I like to think they worked it out behind the scenes. Though uh, she has two separate canons that branch off from eachother at one point, one in which she dumps him and maybe tries with someone else (haven't finished it yet though so not sure).

Varadis Lavellan - No-one (yet at least, I haven't finished him, but I'm actually thinking of making him ace/arom).

Mihra Lavellan - ...listen okay I know I'm guilty of being a dumb dumb but Solas again- my reason being isn't attached to canon (she was tranquil, the mark sorta like broke her outta it, Solas was the only one who didn't define her being around her having been tranquil (actively to her knowledge at least)).

Lokhultaar Adaar - Sera, cause they're both absolutely FERAL and Disastor lesbians

Darius Travelyan - Listen, okay, I know, I'm a basic bitch and you can provably already tell who (Dorian, he's super gay, okay)

Thora Bergljot Cadesh - Josephine because Thora is based on me and I'm...heart eyes...for Josephine...

20. Do they trust Morrigan?

Boithea - hhhgh she's 50/50 on it. Not a fan of how Morrigan is so...obnoxious to her when it comes to *her own culture*.

Varadis - Oh he doesn't like her??? At all??? He's a mommas boy and he's so proud of his culture and to have this strange woman suddenly come along and talk down to him about it as if he doesn't know it at all??? Bad!!!

Mihra - she's...not sure, she's rational enough to understand that if she doesn't trust Morrigan then they may not make any progress, but at the same time...she's unsure.

Lokhultaar - Listen, she's gay. Okay kidding, she's a bit...iffy towards mages (with the whole Qunari mage thing), but she goes along with it, making the occasional funny quip here and there, as is expected.

Trevelyan - He'll take allies wherever he can get them. He wouldn't trust her with his life, but she doesn't need to know that.

Thora - Again, based on me, and I'm an idiot, so you KNOW I'd give her my entire trust straight up babey, so yeah she does. (Also because she??? Knows almost nothing about magic and stuff, due to being a dwarf, so.)

36. What was the most difficult choice that had to make?

Boithea - Drinking from the well of sorrows. She knew the implications of basically selling her soul into eternal servitude, however she also didn't trust Morrigan entirely with whatever powers it'd give.

Varadis - The next ruler of Orlais! He has no head for human, especially Orlesian, politics, and the entire time he knew that everything he did or didn't do could lead to a completely different outcome and everyone was riding on him to make the right choice it really stressed him out!!

Mihra - Whether or not to make Cole more real. She didn't want him to lose what he was, but she also wanted him to be safe.

Lokhultaar - She never really had trouble with any choices. Despite her f e r a l nature at heart, she was surprisingly straight to the point and knew exactly what she wanted to do and how she wanted to do it.

Travelyan - Whether or not to save the chargers. He was close with Bull, so obviously he didn't *want* to do it, but on the other hand...possible ties with the Qun?

Thora - Whether or not to banish the Grey Wardens. She was aware that if she did, and a blight happened again, they'd be basically defenseless, but at the same time, they were so easily corrupted...She ended up deciding to not exile them.

46. Which companion/advisor makes them think twice about their choices, if any?

Boithea - She tended to meet her problems with force at the start, but then reading Leliana's and Josephine's reviews of her actions and their suggestions kinda spun her around and started making her try to think harder about her choices.

Varadis - In most cases, he knew his intentions from the start and stuck to them, eventually his companions and advisors learnt that it was better to drop the subject then keep trying.

Mihra - She's always second- guessing herself, prior to the mark she hadn't made a decision for herself for a good few years, and isn't quite sure how to define what choice is the best one. She usually leaves it to her companions and her advisors to choose for her, however she does request they do try to take the most peaceful option, if there is one.

Lokhultaar - Straight forward, force is the only way to get people to listen- until Leliana explains that no, it isn't, and she starts taking input from her less up-front companions when facing a conundrum, but she'll usually still go with her original choice.

Trevelyan - Oh, he'll take advice, but he never really...thinks twice. Usually he's always thinking of the outcome that would be most beneficial to him and trying to figure out how he can reach it, and he'll usually take that path while trying to make it seem like he is taking everyone's advice to heart.

Thora - O H B O Y she uh...yeah...um...she's constantly taking input from everyone and trying to change her methods to suit them but??? It just makes her an absolutely muddled mess of nonsense??? Always doubting her choices and actions and being like "Okay but would [companion/advisor] approve if I did this-" instead of thinking about whether or not she wants to do it.

[ranawaytothedas]

The Stuff of Dream (Chapter 2)

Main Pairings: F!Lavellan/Solas & F!Lavellan/Cullen 

Word Count:  7645

AO3 Link - HERE

Summary:  A collection of encounters in the Fade between Tamaris Lavellan and Solas during the two years he was missing after the defeat of Corypheus.

Part 2 of 3

Part 1

A / N: This is just some fluff, with feels… and there some plot points but I wanted something fluffy at its core for this middle bit because we need more fluff in all our lives right!? I love Solas and Lavellan having a baby… it’s tropey I know but I love it… It’s my brand of trash… anyway, this is my best like domestic fluff with Tamaris and Solas in the fade. Rating - Mature just for safety

In the weeks since her first encounter with Solas in the Fade, he returned as promised nearly every night. Tamaris still struggled to grasp the depth of what Solas had told her of his past and plans for the future. He had explained a little more about his plans each night. While Tamaris saw the reasoning behind his goal to restore The People to their former place in the world. To her, tearing down the Veil and remaking the world couldn’t be the only way for them to achieve this. Solas told her it was but Tamaris knew there had to be a better way. 

She had been spending most of her waking hours in the Rotunda, in Solas’s old study that was now hers. Her position with the Inquisition was largely research-oriented, taking on many of the duties that Solas once held. Tamaris spending hours in the study, her nose buried in a book was not something uncommon. Most around her just assumed she was deep into research and not that she was carefully planning her part in her love’s rebellion. Tamaris spent each day at Solas's old desk, looking up at the murals that he had painted during his time at Skyhold. Studying his notes while Shivana played on a blanket nearby with her dolls, blissfully unaware of what her mother was planning. 

Tamaris was going to leave the Inquisition and everything she had known. Or rather that was her end goal. There was much work she still had to do first. Solas had positioned her as the main point of contact for his Agents already in place within the organization. It was a role that Tamaris was uncomfortable with at first, thinking she was going to have managed a decent-sized group, but really it was just three people who came to her most often. A young scout that only just joined, an older mage that had come into the fold with the Mages from the Circle and a quiet former Dalish serving woman, near Tamaris’s age, who worked in the kitchens. Though Tamaris suspected that Solas had more agents still hidden throughout the whole of Thedas.

The agents were all kind to her when they spoke but looked at her with fear in their eyes. Tamaris knew that they likely didn’t fear her directly. She was not known for being harsh or unpleasant to deal with. Rather, they feared displeasing Fen’Harel was a more likely answer. Of three agents it was Lenan, the former Dalish kitchen servant, that Tamaris took a liking to the most. Each afternoon she would bring Tamaris her tea and under the pot always a note. With all the latest gossip from the servents. Lenan would often sit and chat with Tamaris just about life and the events of the day. Simple conversation but it was usually one of the highlights of Tamaris's day. Lenan would always stop and greet Shivana as well. Offering her a sweet she had hidden the pocket of her apron with a warm smile. Once, Lenan had mentioned that she had once had a little girl, but a sickness took both her child and her husband years before. Tamaris felt for the woman and offered the opportunity to spend more time with Shivana. Which Lanan happily accepted. 

Lenan started lending Tamaris a hand with keeping track of Shivana, who had taken her first steps just days before she celebrated her first birthday. Though, Tamaris knew she had actually done it several nights before in The Fade when Solas had appeared in the treeline and Shivana spotted him. She pushed herself up onto on unsteady feet and toddled over to him, giggling the whole time. Solas had been so proud of her, the look on his face as he bent down to pick her up was an image Tamaris would never forget. His eyes bright and filled with joy. A broad smile plastered across his face. That’s the man I fell in love with. She had told herself at that moment.  It was a memory that Tamaris couldn’t share.  It was, however, one she cherished above all else and would for the rest of her life. 

On Shivana’s birthday, Skyhold was bursting with activity. Josephine had insisted on organizing an elaborate celebration for the event. Nobels, dignitaries and all manner of important figure in the political landscape of Thedas funneled into the keep to Celebrate the little girl’s first year of life. Even Varric had returned from Kirkwall for the occasion. As per usual, Dorian had attempted to micromanage every detail of the event. From the food to the clothes that ‘his family’ would wear, and even what colors the hall had been decorated in for the event. All had to be up to Dorian’s exacting standards. Tamaris thought it was all too much, repeatedly saying. “She is still so young, she will likely not even remember any of this..”

However, Dorian, backed by Josephine, explained that it wasn’t the point of an event like this. The point was, “To show the world that survived… you have locked yourself away in Skyhold for years now. This is your return to the world’s stage.” An idea that made Tamaris’s stomach turned. When time came for the party, Tamaris dressed in the opulent, deep purple dress that Dorian had sent in from the finest seamstress in Val Royeaux. Shivana was dressed in a matching gown of her own, though it was a pale silver rather than the deep purple. Cullen has not been left out of this family textile fueled nightmare. Even he had a suit that matched Mathras’s which Cullen was not happy about, in the least. He grumbled the whole time he dressed and Tamaris couldn’t help but sympathize as she struggled to get Shivana into her dress. The fabrics were heavy and embroidered with metallic threads, which caused them to be more style over comfort. Which should have been a hint at how the events of the night would unfold.

The party itself was not an event for a small child. Most of the guests were adults. They all brought gifts that were far too lavish and not practical. Save a few from Tamaris’s closest companions. Sera made a bright yellow blanket, which Shivana snatched up as soon it was handed her and rubbed it against her cheek. Varric gave the most thoughtful gift, he wrote a children’s story just for Shivana based off an old Dalish story from Clan Sabrae. This was something the writer had sworn he would never do, but he could not think of a more fitting gift for his dear friend’s child. The story was one that his friend Merril told him about a young girl who wished to join the Emerald Knights and the trials she endured to achieve her goal. Tamaris was near tears as she flipped through the pages of the book to see a little girl, that looked quite like her daughter featured in the drawing in the book. Varric was a little flustered by her reaction and tried to pass off most of the credit. “Merril and Bianca helped me with the pictures, I am a writer, not a damned artist. Really it’s not even my story… I just wrote the words down...” Tamaris didn’t say anything more than thank you as she hugged him. 

As the party continued late into the night, Shivana quickly grew overtired and cranky. When the point was reached that little Shivana had too much, it was Cullen who came to Tamaris, as she was catching up with Briala at the time. He had Shivana screaming in his arms, one arm out of her dress as she fought against Cullen trying to hold her. Tamaris apologize profusely to Briala, but her friend understood that her daughter was quite done with the affair.

“I’m going to put her to bed…” Was all she had intended to say to Cullen but his offer to go with her caused her to pause. It was odd, a few months prior she would have begged him to come with her not wanting to wage the nightly battle to get the headstrong little girl into bed herself. Yet, now that she knew that she would see Solas again in the Fade it felt odd to fall asleep in Cullen’s arms only to wake in the Fade to run into Solas’s. What she often found more upsetting was that she would rather spend more of her time asleep, in the Fade with Solas than awake living the life she had built with Cullen. Tamaris put on her best smile for him. “No, stay… Varric is going to get a game of Wicked Grace going… enjoy yourself, Cullen. We will be fine, I am just as tired as she is. I just hold it together better.” Cullen nodded and kept his thoughts to himself. 

Tamaris knew Cullen had growing suspicions that something had changed in the past few weeks. How could he not? She often asked herself. Tamaris was almost always sleeping when he returned to their rooms. They barely spoke or even saw each other. They hadn’t been intimate in weeks. He suspected that he did something wrong, overstepped with Shivana or something of the sort but it was far simpler.

She wanted to be with Solas. It was becoming harder for Tamaris to maintain her relationship with Cullen with each passing day. Each time he held her hand or kissed her cheek, she felt like she was betraying the man she really loved. Tamaris longed for it all to be over, but Solas had his carefully thought out plan. Everything in due course.

Tamaris spent the next hour trying to settle the now, one year down. Shivana was over-tired and fed far too much sugar by her ‘Uncle Dorian’ during the party. It took sitting in the rocking chair that Thom Rainier had made her before he left to join the Grey Wardens, as himself this time. It was the first gift she had been given for Shivana and it had proved the most useful. Before too long, the little girl was asleep, clutching the bright yellow blanket that Sera had given her. Tamaris took a moment to settle Shivana in her crib before climbing into her own bed a few feet away. 

After tossing and turning for nearly another hour, Tamaris finally drifted off to the Fade. 

When she awoke, the first thing she noticed was the forest she awoken was not the one she had created. It was still a forest, but it was like none that Tamaris had seen before. The trees were older and taller than most she had seen. The air was thick with the smell of sap and a flowery scent she couldn’t place her finger on. There was a small path that led deeper into the woods. Tamaris followed the path lit by soft glowing blue lanterns. The joyous echos of Shivana’s laughter could be heard long before Tamaris could see her as she made her way through the densely wooded forest.  While Shivana was a happy child in most people’s opinions. When she was with her father, it was a different type of joy. It was untainted but the outside world. He could make her laugh in ways even Cullen or Dorian, who were Shivana’s favorite people, could not. Solas had a way with her, that was just an unexplainable connection between parent and child. Her eyes were brighter when she was with him and it reinforced to Tamaris that she was making the right choice. 

The path led to a clearing with a small cottage in an architecture style Tamaris didn’t recognize. It reminded her of some of the ancient elven ruins she had seen, but it was far less complex in design. She was trying to figure out where Shivana and Solas had gone off to as she wandered through the clearing. Then out of the corner of her eye. Tamaris spotted Shivana toddling around the corner of the house. Solas following a step behind her watching her as she explored. A warm smile grew across Tamaris’s lips once she spotted them. Seeing them together never ceased to make her heart swell with pride. Her only wish was that it was more than just in the Fade. She wanted to see her daughter as happy as she was in her dreams, every day. Soon, a few months more than we will be together. She reminded herself that there was going to be an end to this and they would be together. 

 Tamaris stayed back for a few moments. She watched as Solas doted upon their daughter. Till as they meandered around the house Solas noticed Tamaris standing there. He smiled lovingly at her and lent down, scooping up Shivana in his arms. His hand lifted as he pointed over towards Tamaris. “Look, Mamae’s here.” He kissed her cheek as he balanced her on his hip, carrying her with him over to greet Tamaris. His free hand went to her waist as he leaned in a placed a quick peck on her cheek. “How was the party?” He asked with a hint of smugness in his voice that made Tamaris want to hit him for a moment. She settled with an eye roll and a disapproving huff. “Oh, it could not be that bad?”

Tamaris smirked as she leaned over and kissed Shivana’s cheek. Shifting her attention back to Solas. A bemused chuckle escaped her lips. “Dorian had matching outfits made for the five of us.” Her tone was light yet, there was an unmistakable bitterness in her voice as she spoke.  Solas was quite amused at the idea. He was holding back laughter which just earned him a scowl from Tamaris. “I would not laugh if I were you, remember regardless of what happens Solas. Dorian is still family now. He and Mathras seem to have a rather permanent arrangement. You already know his feelings on your general taste in clothing.” Her laughter was light like a songbird’s call. “I love Dorian really, but I would rather leave my wardrobe up to my own choosing.” 

Solas gave her a rather smug glance as his hand moved up her back. “He does not even know my actual taste in clothing.” Solas protested as Tamaris let out a soft chuckle as she smirked up at him. 

Shivana began to squirm in Solas’s arms eager to get down and back to exploring. “Alright, da’ean.” He mumbled softly as his hand slipped from around Tamaris as he turned away to set Shivana back down on the ground. As soon as her bare feet hit the soft grass she was off. While she wasn’t the fastest she did make it up with enthusiasm, clapping her hands as she laughed excitedly. 

How Tamaris longed for this to be what life was always like. Just enjoy this moment, the rest will come. Tamaris reminded herself as Solas took her hand. Her gaze shifted upwards. Solas had a soft smile playing on his lips as Tamaris leaned in resting her head against his arms. “So, did she at least enjoy the party?” Solas asked weary of the answer he was likely going to receive. 

“Not really.” Tamaris began. “I really do not think it was meant for her, it was more like her birthday was another event in Mathras’s attempt to play the Game.” Solas scowled briefly. Tamaris just nodded and shrugged, “Trust me, I am not thrilled about this either.”

“Why would your brother agree to such nonsense in the first place?” Solas asked as he glanced back towards Shivana who was looking at some wildflowers just a few feet away. 

Tamaris shrugged again. “He thinks if he gains some standing in Orlais and Fereldan that when Dorian is eventually forced to return to Tevinter that he, a Dalish Elf, will be able to walk into Minrathous without issue.” Tamaris knew her brother loved Dorian, but there was no way they were going to be able to have some life together in Tevinter. Their society was far from progressive, and that was just about Elves. The rest was another matter entirely. As much as Dorian jested he would just name Shivana his heir one day and really cause problems among Magisterium, Tamaris knew it was only a jest. Mathras still believed it could become truth. 

Scoffing slightly as he shook his head Solas looked down at Tamaris. “He is a fool… a moron even.” Solas pointed out sharply. It wasn’t that Solas disliked Mathras. He was actually quite fond of him, he had a good heart but a hot temper and was blinded by the appeal of wealth and status. A combination that Solas could relate to on a personal level. He had tried to show the young man the errors of letting his pride get the better of him. Mathras was a stubborn man, Tamaris was stubborn in her own way but she was not as inflexible as her brother had become during his time as Inquisitor. Solas let out another groan. “He really is far too stubborn for his own good.”

“I know, but he is in love…” Tamaris added with a small smile as she placed a hand on his chest. Solas rolled his eyes dismissively. Noticing this Tamaris pulled back and looked at him wide-eyed, her lips pursed together for a moment before she elaborated. “You know, I want his foolish plan to actually work.” 

Solas laughed softly as he leaned in to kiss her, with his lips nearly brushed against hers as he smirked. “I know, but that does not mean it will.” His lips brushed against Tamaris’s lips for a moment. It felt like such a normal moment between a happy couple just going about their lives. For the briefest moments, Tamaris forgot they were in the fade as she stood there looking up at him blissfully. Solas’s gaze moved back to Shivana as she wandered around the clearing enjoying her little bit of freedom. 

A happy sigh escaped her lips as Tamaris turned to watch their daughter play noticing the smile growing on Solas’s lips. “I am glad she is at least happy here,” Tamaris noted mournfully.

Solas slipped his arms around her waist as he rested his chin on her shoulder. “What do you mean?” Though he had never seen his daughter outside of the Fade, he had assumed she was just as happy during her waking hours. He watched as Tamaris’s gaze never left their daughter. He ran a hand across her stomach trying to get her to look at him. “Vhenan,” he uttered softly finally getting her attention. 

There were reasons Tamaris didn’t want to tell Solas what she meant. She knew that it would only hurt him, but he was a persistent man. As she let out a heavy sigh as she turned around to face him. Solas’s hands now resting on the small of her back. “Ma’lath,” Tamaris muttered as she went to kiss him but Solas shook his head and gave her a stern glare. “It’s complicated…” Tamaris grumbled as she turned her face away from his. 

His hands slipped from around her before he took her hands. “Show me…” he insisted looking deep into her eyes. Tamaris shook her head trying to dismiss him but Solas wanted to understand. “You know how to show me memories, show me the party.” His tone was soft but had a commanding tone that made Tamaris feel as if she had no choice in the matter.

Her head nodded weakly as she glanced back over to Shivana. “At least let us bring her, so she can dream that you were there…” There was a sadness that seeped through each of her words. Solas nodded but said nothing. Tamaris felt nervous as she walked the few feet to where Shivana was looking at a log on the ground. She smiled brightly at her daughter as leaned down. “Bae wants to see your party… should we show him?” Tamaris asked the child in a vaguely sing-song voice. The child giggled as she reached out for Solas who was walking up behind Tamaris. Shivana giggled as her tiny hands reached longingly out for her father. “Oh so Mae is nothing now, I see… go on… go to your Bae…” Tamaris teased as Solas smiled smugly lifting his daughter from her mother’s arms. 

He was quite pleased with how much Shivana had taken to him. She rested her head against his chest as she reached out towards his face with her hand. Solas smiled broadly as he captured her hand, “Hello, da’ean..” he beamed before kissing her fingertips. He glanced up at Tamaris who was watching, smiling. 

“She loves you, you know that…” Tamaris’s words weren’t meant to cut at Solas but they did. His smile waived for a moment as he glanced at Shivana who was still staring at him intently. 

“I know…” He muttered kissing her little fingers again. 

Tamaris nodded and smiled. “Good…” She noted bluntly before turning her back to Solas. “Remember that…” Her words were soft and they weren’t meant for Solas to hear but he did. Tamaris closed her eyes and slowly the world they had been standing in melted away and was replaced the warmth of Skyhold’s hall. 

It was Tamaris’s memory of the events of a few hours before. The hall was empty for the moment but decorated in pale pinks and soft silvers. The tables were covered with food and with a wave of her hand Tamaris was in a deep purple Orliasian gown. “Welcome to what I would have faced a Nightmare Demon again to avoid…” She gestured down to her gown, which was well made, beautiful but looked out of place on her. “I had to take a piss in this…. Just so you know.” She explained with a laugh. “Do you want to know how many people it took for me to piss wearing this dress? Do you know how much shit Sera gave me for having to hold this up while I squatted?” She asked gesturing to the large hooped skirt. 

Solas was standing back, still wearing his same sweater and leather breaches, holding their daughter still clad in her simple white dress, trying to do everything in his power not to laugh at her story and the dress in question. “You look beautiful..” He confessed softly. I was true, he did think she looked lovely. Though he always felt she looked beautiful and would still be beautiful if she clad in nothing but plaidweave. “What do you think, Shivana? Mae looked beautiful in that dress that was very obviously picked by Dorian.” He chuckled towards the end mention of Dorian, which Tamaris did not find amusing. 

“Uncle Dorian” Tamaris corrected quickly. 

Solas laughed softly and repeated. “Uncle Dorian... “

Her lips pursed as her arms folded in front of her chest. Her eyes closed again and when she opened them Solas was wearing the same outfit that Cullen had been forced to wear that night. It was similar in style to what they had worn to Celine’s ball, but the fabric was rich velvet, the tiny silver filigree throughout so that when it caught the light it seemed to sparkle. Shivana too was wearing her outfit from that night. A stunning silver dress, that actually looked quite darling on the child but was made of a horribly itchy fabric. Instantly Shivana started to wiggle in Solas’s arms trying to get out of the dress. She shook her head as she pulled the dress up over her head to take it off. Solas laughed softly. “I do not think she likes this dress..” With that Solas waved his hand and she was back in the simple white cotton sundress she had been wearing before. “Better?” He asked. 

Shivana giggled as she grabbed at the fancy jacket he wore before scowling again. His scowl, Tamaris noted and so did Solas. He chuckled softly at her expression of dislike for the garment. “I do not care for it either.” He noted before the suit morphed into what Tamaris could only assume was what he wore in the days of Arlathan. The fabric of his tunic was rich, deep forest green silk. Trimmed with delicate gold piping. He wore black leather breaches Over his shoulder was a black wolf pelt, which drew Shivana’s attention. Her twisted in her father’s arms as her hand ran through the fur. She giggled with delight as she ran her cheek against the soft fur.

Smiling deviously, Tamaris crossed her arms in front of her chest. “So, this is Fen’Harel…” There was amusement in her voice as she spoke, she had wondered for quite some time what the Dread Wolf really looked like. 

Much to Tamaris’s surprise Solas shook his head. “No, this is what I wore most days before they gave me that name,” he explained as he watched Shivana rest her head on the fur in his shoulder. As Solas glanced back over at Tamaris. He smirked as her puffy Orliesian gown morphed into a flowing gown that he viewed far more fitting for such a beautiful woman. 

A bright smile grew across Tamaris’s lips as she ran her hands over the deep forest green silk. The neckline dipped low, between her breasts. A detail that made Tamaris blush as she gestured to her cleavage. Solas chuckled as a devilish smirk played on his lips. The rest of the dress was flowing. Tamaris felt very much like some sort of divine creature wearing it. “So, this is what you would have me wear?” Tamaris asked sheepishly taking a step closer to Solas who looked quite pleased with his choice. She wondered if this is what it would be like when they were reunited.

Solas reached out, placing his hand on her waist. Drawing her closer to him, her body pressed up against his. He was blissfully happy in that moment. It was a rare occurrence. Solas often felt as if he didn’t deserve the love Tamaris still had for him. He had hurt her. Abandoned her. Through all the pain her love for him remained. Fortune had smiled upon him that she was so blinded by love to give him another chance. Every day he promised himself he would be the man she loved, not the man he was. It was a promise that Solas knew he may one day break, but he pushed the dark thoughts from his mind to focus on the love that was surrounding him.

A content sigh escaped Solas’s lips before he finally answered Tamaris’s question. “If I had my way…” He teased. In a more serious tone, he finished, “I would be happy with whatever you choose to wear as long as you are comfortable.” He paused and looked at her questioning. “You are comfortable?” 

Tamaris laughed as she nodded, “Yes, it’s a lovely dress.” Her hand slipped up around his neck to the nape of his neck. Her hand applying a slight pressure to the back of his neck, urging Solas to lean down so she could place a sweet peck on his full lips. Solas thought that feeling her lips pressed against his that he would never grow tired of the feel of her lips on his. Solas let out a pleased chuff as Tamaris took a step back, taking his hands. “Now that we are properly dressed, shall we go to a party?” Tamaris tried to muster amusement in her voice as she spoke but there was trepidation as well. She knew the evenings’ affairs were sweet for moments but most would not be what Solas had hoped for. Tamaris only hoped that he would be understanding.  She turned her back to him and focused all her thoughts on the events of the night. Like fog rolling in the room began to fill with spectral figures. Nobles whos faces Solas could not recall and the faces of a few of their old companions. 

The first thing Solas noted was there was not another child to be found. It appeared to be more of a grand ball than what little he recalled of children’s parties, though he assumed they may have changed some since his youth. There were hushed discussions in every corner and it took him a moment to find Tamaris, dressed in the puffy purple dress holding a rather sour-faced Shivana standing off in a corner looking panicked. Her eyes were wide, her lips drawn tight. Shivana was clutching on to her mother already overwhelmed by the affair. Her bright blue eyes looked upwards, pleading with her mother to leave this event before it had even truly begun.  

A wave of guilt washed over him, this should have never happened. He noted silently. I should have taken her with me. How did I not know she was pregnant? I left my family to lions. Solas struggled to maintain his composure watching his daughter entrenched in fear over something that should have been a happy affair. 

Tamaris stood a few feet away watching herself, the sadness of recalling the event radiated off her like the heat from a fire. She was never one for balls or parties. Playing the grand game turned her stomach. Tamaris wished that she had been listened to about the event even more as she relieved it a second time.

Even Shivana was becoming as she watched the spectral version of herself. Confused and upset, Shivana turned her head away and buried it against the pelt on her father’s shoulder. Her hands clutching at the fabric of his tunic holding on to him as she had held onto her mother.  Solas kissed the top of her head before whispering, “You are alright, da’ean.” Feeling her clutch on to him with so much fear, for the first time, rattled Solas as he held Shivana close. Wrapping both arms around her. “I have you, my sweet girl.”

Tamaris waved her hand. The echoes across the room shifted with the ease of smoke in the breeze. Crossing the hall Tamaris led to where she had sat earlier in the evening with Sera who held Shivana in her lap. “This was the happiest Shivana was all night.” 

Sera was bouncing Shivana in her lap, singing some ridiculous song that she was obviously making up as she went along. Krem and several of the other chargers sat around the table trying to entertain the small child with a set of nug plushies dressed in various garbs. One even had a set of horns and eyepatch. It made Solas chuckle softly. “Does she like them?” He asked softly walking up behind Tamaris.

She turned back for a moment, the movement of the echos still as her attention shifted away. “The toys or the Chargers?” 

“Both, I suppose?” He hadn’t thought if his daughter was fond of anyone really. He had assumed like most small children she like most people. 

Tamaris smiled broadly as she turned back to her memory. “Yes, to both.” She mused softly. “Krem makes her all these little plushies to play with, he says it gives him something to do. I think he loves to see her face when he walks into the rotunda with a new nug of some kinda for Shivana to play with. Dalish is really sweet with her, Grim has made laugh so hard she made herself sick because she finds the grunting highly amusing oddly enough… the rest of them are kind to her will go out of their way to get a giggle out of her.”  Which the echos were doing at that moment. They were making silly faces and holding her new toy just out of reach for a moment till she tried to squirm out of Sera’s arm to reach it. 

Solas couldn’t help but notice how protective Sera was being with his daughter. Her eyes constantly darting around the room watching the movements of all who came near. Her arms were wrapped protectively around the child, her freckle covered cheek resting against the top of Shivana’s auburn curls. “Sera?” He asked Tamaris softly curious to know her relationship with his daughter. 

“Sera loves her, like her own flesh and blood.” There was smile playing on Tamaris’s lips and it could be heard in her voice. “Shivana likes that she usually has something good to eat.” The happiness in Tamaris’s voice was not lost on Solas. Tamaris shifted her attention and as she moved across the hall once more the scene shifted. 

Now what played out before him was a slightly more distressing scene. Tamaris held Shivana in her arms. The child was sobbing and pulling at her mother’s dress. With a great deal of haste, she pushed through a crowd of people. Nobels, some with masks that marked them as Orliesain, others were more obviously Frelden. They all shot Tamaris dirty glances as pushed passed them. Their looks of disgust at his daughter’s distress caused Solas to seethe with anger enough that Tamaris turned back and watched him for a moment before asking. “Are you alright?” Solas nodded, unable to actually utter anything more than ‘mhm’ as he held their daughter closer. 

He rested his cheek against the top of Shivana’s head, the child hiding her face once more the uncomfortable memory. The spectral version of Tamaris had finally reached Mathras, who stood near Dorian as he told one of his lively stories to entertain the dignitaries. Her hand pulled at her thick fabric of her brother’s coat. Solas caught her asking, “Have you seen Cullen?” Her brother turned to her for a moment and gave her a look of disdain. It was like Mathras could not even be bothered by his sister’s troubles. 

“I haven’t a clue where he is, but could you do something about Shivana… the guests are starting to get uncomfortable.” Her brother spoke sharply to her. It something Solas had witnessed before. It has always unnerved him how Tamaris would just bow to her brother’s wishes when she was the one with the real power. He had spent so much time building her confidence during their relationship, he had thought that she would be able to retain it but from the exchange with Mathras it was obvious she had fallen into old habits. 

The look on her face as Mathras turned away ripped at Solas’s heart. Her eyes held back tears, her lips drew tight and thin as she took a deep breath trying to steady herself. Solas didn’t question the exchange as he had the others. It was very obvious what had happened. Walking up behind her he leaned forward and kissed her bare shoulder. “Ir abelas, Vhenan.” He murmured against her skin. The guilt over his absence overwhelming him for a moment. 

Tamaris cleared her throat as she turned to him. A smile crossed her lips briefly as Shivana looked up at her. A hand lifted and she trailed her fingers along his jaw, her smile turning mournful. “Ir abelas sul ahn ju'garas.” Her tone was soft but filled with regret. Solas looked at her confused as to why she was apologizing to him but Tamaris just shook her head as she turned away. Things shifted once more. 

They were now off in the Garden where Cullen had taken refuge from the party. Tamaris was walking briskly with Shivana, now screaming loudly, tossing her head back having quite the fit. Tamaris looked as if she was crying as well. Cullen raced towards them having leaped from his perch on a bench as soon as he heard Shivana’s cries. “Please, Cullen… just take her… I can’t do this.” Tamaris’s voice shook as Cullen took Solas’s daughter from her mother’s arms. Shivana went to him willingly, as she wanted him more than she wanted to be held by her mother any longer. 

A sharp stab of guilt hit Solas like lightning bolt as he saw how quickly Shivana settled in Cullen’s arms, He is the only father she has known, who is at fault for that? Solas asked himself as he looked at his daughter who was smiling up at him, her hand reaching up and brushing against his jaw. “Da’ean.” He muttered softly as he kissed the top of her head and cherished the fact she was at least safe in his arms in the Fade. 

Turning his attention back to the scene, Solas’s icy blue eyes narrowed in on the other man’s face. It was filled with concern and love. The look of a man, looking at his family. An anger he did not expect began to slowly fester deep within the darkest place of his soul. 

Cullen bounced Shivana with one arm trying to calm her as he pulled Tamaris into a tender embrace. “I told Josiephine that this was a bad idea.” He grumbled angrily as Tamaris looked up at him, tears still streaming down her face. This only seemed to upset Cullen more, seeing his heart so upset at that moment Solas could not help but relate to his anger. 

Cullen took a deep breath and looked down at Tamaris with a weary gaze. “You at the very least have to go back.” He didn’t want to point this fact out, that was plain but was something that needed to be said. Tamaris scowled and shook her head in protest mumbling before Cullen cut her off. “It’s only for a short while longer, but you have to play along.” Tamaris looked upset, like that was not what she had hoped to hear. A scowl grew across her face and Cullen scoffed. “You are still the Herald of Andraste. That means something to the people in there.” He gestured with free his hand towards the hall and Tamaris looked deeply upset. There was tension in the looks they gave each other, tensions that were not new. 

Tamaris’s eyes narrowed in on Cullen as she scowled. “It means nothing.” She snarled as she turned away almost storming off. For a moment Solas was proud for the first time that night, she seemed to attempt to stand up to someone. Something stopped her though. The heal of the pointed shoe she wore dug into the dirt as Tamaris turned around and gestured to Shivana. “Just, keep her out here or better yet, take her to our rooms because I know she is tired,” Tamaris added and Cullen gave her a warm smile. Tamaris didn’t return it, her eyes only focusing on Shivana.

Bouncing Shivana in his arms, Cullen beamed down at her. “We got this? Right pumpkin?” Shivana looked up in Solas’s arm’s hearing Cullen’s nickname for her. It was a small, instinctual thing that made Solas taking in a long, deep breath as his eyes closed. Cullen has his own pet name for it, it was something so small that it should not have bothered him as deeply as it did. Solas for the briefest of moments thought that was the worst of what he would witness that night. 

Cullen shifted Shivana in his arms to lift her up and smile brightly as he got her to giggle. “That’s my girl. Daddy swoops in and saves the day? Right, my little pumpkin...” Cullen’s voice stung deeper than any blade. Hearing Cullen call himself Shivana’s father was a thing Solas never thought of before that moment. He had assumed that he was just ‘Cullen’ and nothing more.

It wasn’t unknown to him that Cullen had assumed a certain role in his daughter’s life. Tamaris never hid that from him but he also never asked for details. Thus leaving him rather unaware of the depth that Cullen had embedded himself into their lives. That was his own fault. 

In an instant, he knew why she had to apologize to him. She had every intention of showing him this, even if she didn’t have to show it to him to make a point. Which he now saw was the point of the memories she had shown him. She did though, you know this. All the pain you have caused her, does she not deserve to cause her own in turn? His rationalization of why Tamaris had shown him such a moment did nothing to quell the guilt and rage that was brewing like a storm inside his mind. His crisp blue eyes finally fluttered open to see Shivana looking up at him confused. Flashing a brief smile he tried to show his daughter that he was alright, even though he was far from it.

Tamaris had stopped the memories, the echoes of the people faded away and they were left standing alone in the gardens at Skyhold. Solas kissed the top of Shivana’s auburn ringlet covered head, never wanting to let go of her again. She was his child. Tamaris was free to do with Cullen what she pleased, for the time being, so he could stake no claim to her other than she was the mother of his child. Shivana was another matter entirely. Solas’s jaw grew tight as he finally looked up at Tamaris who had turned around. 

Her eyes were heavy with sadness, her hands folded in front of her as she looked up at him. “The rest… is…” Tamaris didn’t finish her thought for she couldn’t bear to look the pain on Solas’s face. She knew that seeing Cullen with Shivana would hurt him, she wanted him to see what he left. There was even a part of her that wanted him to hurt because he was still not beside her when she awoke. He needed to see the life that should have been his. While he plan had it’s desired effect, Tamaris had never expected to feel such guilt upon seeing his pain. Her lips parted as she wanted to explain but Solas shook his head. He did not wish to hear any explanation. “Solas,” Tamaris started her eyes darting back to him for a moment. 

“No.” He said flatly as his hand ran down Shivana’s back. Tamaris was not going to control this conversation, not this time. Solas scowled as began, “So he… what?” Solas his voice seething with rage that he normal never let slip out. “Is her father to the world?” He scoffs, shaking his head. Tamaris gave him no answer, which was more than enough to answer his question. His bitterness shouldn’t have surprised Tamaris but it still hurt to hear and see how bothered he was by Cullen. “Of all the people you could have picked… The Templar… raising my child.” Tamaris was allowing him to have his moment, he deserved to be upset. What could have been more insulting to him than knowing that for most of her life thus far, his daughter had viewed a former Templar as her father? Nothing.  

Solas was barely holding his composure, he had to gather his head. It was not something that he could do in Tamaris or his daughter’s presence. With a few short strides and he closed the gap between Tamaris and himself. “I need some time to think..” He uttered with a sharpness that caused Tamaris to cast her eyes to the ground as he handed Shivana to her. To her surprise, after Shivana was settled in her arms and Solas had leaned in and kissed Shivana’s cheek. He then turned to her. “Ar lath ma, Vhenan.” He muttered with a great deal of sadness in his eyes as he leaned in and placing a tender kiss on her cheek before leaving them in the Fade.

When Solas awoke, in his chambers far away from the halls of Skyhold. He was livid. He shot out of his bed. Strode over to his desk and stared down at the various papers that detailed a carefully thought out plan. In all his plans he never factored in his own jealousy getting in the way. He wanted his family back. The idea that at the very moment, far away, Cullen had his arms wrapped around Tamaris made his stomach turn. He let out an animalistic growl before in a fit of rage his hands gripped his desk and in a single fluid movement, he flipped the desk. It came crashing to the ground with a solid thud, papers scattered all over the floor. If the noise of the desk being flipped was not enough to rouse any others nearby. Solas let out a frustrated, guttural scream. 

It wasn’t long before the door to his chambers was pushed open and the lean, hooded figure of Abalas stood in the doorway. “I take it things did not go well?” He asked flatly.

Solas’s gaze never moved from the floor, “What would have given you that impression?” He snarled. Abelas gestured to the desk and Solas snarled once more as he looked up. “The plans have changed,” Solas spoke sharply and there was venom dripping from each of his words. “We need to get them away from The Inquisition sooner than we had planned, which changes many things.” Abelas nodded. “I will not stand for that man…” He wouldn’t even think of speaking Cullen’s name. “Raising my daughter, being with my heart for a moment longer… I know this is selfish of me to ask you or anyone else to be apart of, but…” 

“She is your child. This is your family.” Abelas finished his gold eyes cast to the floor. Solas nodded surprised by the sentinel’s empathy for his situation. “Then no more explanation is needed, I will await further instruction.” Abelas left Solas standing over the overturned desk as he began to formulate his plan to get Tamaris and Shivana away from the Inquisition, Away from the Templar. 

[fanonorcanon]

Solas & F!Lavellan

Solas sat on a stump in the woods outside of Haven and gazed at the stars. He knew that he'd been followed. His pursuer was not an experienced hunter in any way. Instead, Abelath was a quiet mage who seemed to find him very interesting despite all of his attempts to make himself seem anything but. It'd been his goal to seem wholly unremarkable, to slip into this organization and slip out with few, if any remembering him.

She sat next to him without a word.

“Do you speak elven, lethallin?”

“Not fluently, no. My mother meant to teach me, but she died when I was young. Father wasn't as fluent as she was. Well, no one else in the clan was. Not even our Keeper.”

“You speak of them all as if they are in the past,” Solas said lightly.

“I suppose they are in a way. I can never go back to my clan.”

“Why not?”

“The Dalish fear mages as does most of southern Thedas as I'm sure you're familiar with. The clan I grew up in had two mages and I was the third. When a child barely old enough to dress themselves came into their magic, I decided it was best that I leave instead of them. I had no remaining family there. My father died many years ago and after that I’d found myself feeling little attachment to those around me.”

“That's very kind of you. Not many would do the same if they'd been in your shoes. Certainly none of the Dalish I've met.”

“I'm not sure my intentions were completely noble. I find myself welcoming this freedom I have now. Maybe I'd wanted it all along and hadn't realized.”

“You consider what you have now freedom? Even though so much relies solely upon you?”

“Well, when you put it that way,” Abelath said with a smirk.

“What brings you out of your quarters this late?”

“I saw you from my window heading towards the gates. I suppose that I was worried you were leaving.”

“You needn't worry. I plan to see this through; to see the Breach closed.”

“I value your friendship, Solas. Know also that if you were to leave you'd be sorely missed. No one else has wisdom like yours. The amount of knowledge you've gathered in your travels through both the Fade and the waking world is extraordinary.”

Solas felt his cheeks grow hot at her easy praise. He was grateful for the dark.

“You're too kind, lethallin.”

She grinned. 

“Come on, there's a bottle of wine in my cabin with our names on it. It's far too cold to sit out here.”

“As you say, Herald.”

...

“I seek your counsel, Solas,” Abelath said.

“What can I do for you?” 

“Walk with me?” She wrung her hands and shifted from foot to foot.

“Of course.”

Once they were past Solas’ chosen cabin outside the gates of Haven Abelath paced while instead he sat on a rock.

“What seems to be troubling you, da’len?” 

“Please don’t patronize me, Solas, this is serious,” Abelath said with a frown. “I’m worried that I won’t make the right decision.”

“Ir abelas, lethallin. Continue.”

“You know much more than I about humans and their ways. The council wants me to choose between aiding the mages and the templars. How do I know if they’re baiting me into making a decision they will disapprove of?”

“I don’t believe you have anything to worry about.”

“How can you know that?”

“The mark upon your hand is a boon that you can exploit to serve your own goals, even if they are only for your own survival.”

“Couldn’t they just cut off my arm and use it without me?”

Solas felt the color drain from his skin, the wind suddenly stung colder. 

“It wouldn’t work then, I’m afraid.”

“How could you possibly know that? Have you seen what they can achieve when they have no concern for ‘lesser beings’? They find me useful now, but for how long? It truly worries me, please don’t dismiss my concerns with flippant words.”

Her gentle but fiery spirit was something he’d not seen the likes of for many years, and it filled him with an unfamiliar warmth. Much as he tried to contain it, he chuckled softly. 

“Why are you laughing?” Abelath snapped angrily. 

That only seemed to make him laugh harder. Solas balanced his arms atop his knees and laughed as he hadn’t since before he’d woken from uthenera. He heard her stomping through the snow closer to him but a slight fear of retaliation did little to dampen his mirth. Not even the handfuls of snow she dumped on him helped. 

“You’re terrible, Solas,” Abelath huffed.

“Come, let us warm by the fire.” Solas held his arm out to escort her. 

They entered his cabin and before he had the chance she’d lit a fire with a gesture of her hand. She smirked at him triumphantly. 

“Been practicing without your staff, da’len?”

“Don’t call me that, it’s weird,” Abelath said, nose wrinkling. 

“What shall I call you then?” Solas asked. He shook out his tunic as best as he could without removing it, snow still slid down his spine and he shivered, swearing under his breath. 

Abelath giggled at his obvious displeasure. 

“This is your fault, you realize,” he said flatly.

“I don’t believe so.”

“How is that?”

“You laughed at my very serious attempt at gaining your counsel and wisdom. I can’t be faulted for taking insult to your laughter.”

“And they say Orlesians are best at The Game. They should fear Abelath Lavellan.”

“So you do know my name!” Abelath smirked.

“I never said that I didn’t.”

“Yes, but you’ve never used it.”

“Haven’t I?” Had he never called her that out loud? She’d long become simply Abelath in his mind.

“You most certainly have not, Solas.” Her joyful expression spread to her eyes that shone with the same shades as the Breach.  

He found her laughter contagious, just the sound from afar seemed enough to make him smile. 

“Perhaps you’ve forgotten. The Herald of Andraste meets with many people everyday. I do not take offense.” His words smacked of jealousy even to his own ears.

“Don’t be like that,” she murmured.

He pretended he hadn’t heard her.

“Perhaps I should escort you back to your cabin, Abelath?” He permitted himself to speak only her name. How could he want more than this friendly back and forth with her? His plans had already been set in motion; to upset them now for this… passing fancy was unthinkable. But still, he thought.

“You still haven’t given me your counsel, Solas,” she said quietly. 

“Let us sit then and discuss it.”

“Finally the man sees reason,” she huffed.

He smiled. “Between the mages and the templars, whom do you believe would be most instrumental to successfully closing the Breach?”

“Either of them. I’ve been thinking that the problem is more that any action will proclaim the Inquisition’s allegiance to that faction’s cause.” 

Again he was impressed by her wisdom that seemed to belong to someone beyond her years. 

“Who do you believe the Inquisition should side with?”

“The mages. They’ve suffered at the hands of many, more than I had known before all this.”

“And by allying with them, perhaps you can obtain more reasonable treatment for all mages of southern Thedas. It’s a very noble goal, Abelath.” 

“Do you disagree?” Her brow was furrowed and her gaze intense. 

“Not at all. It is the conclusion I would have come to as well.”

“Thank you, Solas.”

...

After Redcliffe Abelath began to change. She'd grown distant, in a way Solas hadn't expected. The Tevinter and Abelath had seen a future in which Corypheus had won. Solas himself had difficulty believing the validity of Pavus’ claims, he did not trust the man.

She no longer sought him out and instead often left him at Haven. Her behavior stung for reasons he couldn't fathom. The reasoning seemed to elude him. It was just as well, it left him more time to set his plans into motion. He'd not yet placed spies within the Inquisition’s ranks for he feared attracting the keen eye of its spymaster. 

Dorian approached Solas one day when he was assisting Adan with crafting potions.

“May I help you, Pavus?” Solas said, his shortness was not lost on the Tevinter.

“It's Abbie. I'm worried about her.”

Solas nearly crushed the potion vial in his grasp. Abbie? 

“What makes you think I'd be able to assist in the manner?” Solas forced out.

“In Redcliffe, in that ghastly future… I saw the way you looked at her. And before we'd left it, after defeating Alexius there; you kissed her.”

Solas was still faced away from Dorian, a fact for which he was grateful for. A blush burned along his cheeks.

“I don't see how that has anything to do with what's going on now.” Solas kept his voice even.

“Are you mad? Any idiot can see she's in love with you. Maker knows why. Regardless, she believes you to have some sort of charm. Go and use it. She's been through a lot, she deserves happiness.”

“You would have me humor her whims without truly reciprocating her romantic feelings?” Solas asked. 

“You must feel something for her!” Dorian argued, intent on getting any answer but one of outright refusal.

“I respect her a great deal. Perhaps in that future I was-” he stopped himself before he could finish. Desperate was the word that'd come to mind. Desperate to reaffirm her survival, to know that she was standing alive and whole before him. He'd like to believe that is what he'd feel in that situation. Anything but the selfish feeling that sometimes twisted in his gut.

“Dorian,” Abelath had been drawn to them from the volume of Pavus’ voice, surely. “Let it go. Please.”

“As you say, Abbie,” Dorian said before he walked away.

Solas felt his face contort with disgust. Who was that necromancer to call her ‘Abbie’?

“So he told you then?”

Solas still faced the wall, mixing and measuring out ingredients for healing potions. He nodded without stopping, content to focus on the task before him.

“It's why I've been avoiding you. I'm sorry, Solas. You deserved a proper explanation. From me.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, and no explanation is necessary,” Solas said.

“I disagree.”

“If anyone deserves an apology, it is you. I'm sorry for any discomfort brought upon you from that version of myself. Rest assured that in the here and now I will not do something so untoward, da’len.” He forced the word from his mouth. Da’len. As if he could ever see her as a child.

“Please don't call me that,” Abelath murmured.

“Apologies.”

“Would you at least look at me?” Her voice cracked but still he couldn't bring himself to look at her.

“I really must finish these soon, Abelath,” he said. Her name tasted sweet upon his tongue.

“I hope we can work past this, Solas. I miss your friendship.”

He listened to her footsteps retreating, and the door shut gently.

Fenedhis, he thought to himself. He was conflicted but could not let himself be swayed.

...

The elven ‘artifacts’ Solas had gently persuaded Abelath to pursue were only fragments of his own power he'd locked away before erecting the veil. He was amazed at how scattered some of them had become. 

With each one, more of his power was returning to him and the harder it became to restrain it. And now as he watched from the shadows as Abelath confronted Corypheus the air surrounding Solas crackled with his efforts to restrain himself. The blighted magister wielded the orb, Solas’ orb, with the same finesse that a child would wield a toy sword. He knew nothing of the delicate magics it could achieve. Solas shook his head and unleashed a time spell that would make even an ancient magister weep from it's beauty and complexity.

Solas stepped out of hiding and circled the battlefield to get to Abelath. But first, the magister. Solas grinned wickedly as he called the orb to him. It flew through the air, wrenched from Corypheus’ grasp and hovered gently above Solas’ palm. It began to glow with a soft, pale green light. He called down lightning from the heavens and struck down both Corypheus and his pet archdemon. The blighted magister and dragon were reduced to piles of ash. Solas picked up Abelath from the ground by the trebuchet and carried her away.

He'd won the day; the Breach was sealed, he'd retrieved his orb, and the magister had been vanquished. All that remained were the masses of lackeys Corypheus had accumulated. Solas had decided while he carried Abelath back to the bulk of the Inquisition’s forces that he would stay. His plans could be delayed. Best to avoid suspicion by being near his enemy. 

The most desirable outcome would be that he could safely tell Abelath of his plan one day. 

...

Once they'd reached Skyhold everyone of importance would have their own quarters. With Solas being named Arcane advisor, he was promised a lavish room though he had little use for such things. It was enough that he had a place to secret away his orb.

Since Abelath had been named Inquisitor she’d been visiting him more and more. 

“Surely you have better things to do with your time, Inquisitor,” Solas said.

“I always have time to learn more of elven history, Solas. Though I thought we were finally getting familiar enough for you to use my name,” Abelath sighed.

“Apologies.” Solas watched her from the corner of his eye. 

“Are we never going to speak of it?” She asked quietly.

“Of what, Inquisitor?” He asked evenly. The kiss they'd shared within the Fade had been a momentary lapse in judgment. Solas could recall so sharply the taste of her tongue, the smell of her hair, and the warmth of her body as he held her close. He would allow himself nothing else, for certain this time. 

She shook her head. “I'll have you confess, one day, Solas.”

“I look forward to it,” he murmured. The words had left his mouth before he could think better of them.

...

Solas found Abelath alone in the archives beneath Skyhold. She tried to rein in the sobs wracking her body. He knelt beside her and gathered her in his arms.

“I'd almost lost you,” she cried. “Why did you stay behind?”

At Adamant, they'd fallen into the Fade where they faced the nightmare demon. Solas had thrown caution to the wind and sent everyone on, facing the demon on his own. The demon hardly presented a challenge to him but he'd forgotten that Abelath hadn't known that.

“We're not immortal, Solas,” Abelath hissed. The words wounded him more than she could know.

“What if we were?” He found himself asking. 

She froze in his arms and shoved him away. “You would use that as a reason to sacrifice yourself?”

“No, it is but a thought that lingers on my mind. Have you never dreamt of the former glory of our people?” His words took even himself off guard. When had he begun to see Abelath as much as one of the people as he?

“Solas,” she began softly. “Why did you stay behind?”

“I was certain that I could handle it, and I did.”

“You defeated the demon on your own?” Abelath gaped.

He felt her fingers dig into his arms the fabric bunching beneath her grip. 

“No, only distracted it enough to get away.” The lie came to him easily. 

She rested her head against his chest and he willed his heart to slow. 

“You’re a very foolish man, Solas.”

“Perhaps,” he murmured.

...

Solas had gone to the garden to harvest herbs when he saw Abelath with the Commander. They were laughing together. He felt a weight begin to sit in his stomach that ached each time he thought of her. Solas’ few spies had contacted him several times asking for orders, any sort of plan that he wanted to go forward with but each time he left their inquiries unanswered. 

Something had shifted within him, though he could not say what. All of his grand plans seemed like they could be pushed back, delayed. They seemed unimportant when compared to- to what? To her? Solas shook himself from his thoughts and left the garden empty handed.

...

Solas watched Abelath from afar. She was alone on the balcony gazing at the stars. Maybe it was the abundance of wine, maybe the influence of the Game, but he wanted to sweep her off her feet and dance with her until the sun rose. She’d danced with her spymaster, ambassador as well as the commander. But she hadn't asked him. Perhaps it was for appearance sake that she chose to dance with them instead of the elven apostate. Nevertheless he found his feet pressing him onward to her side.

“You are not what I had expected, Inquisitor,” Solas said.

“As mysterious as ever, Solas,” Abelath laughed softly. 

“You're an extraordinary woman. Anyone would be lucky to have you.”

“And yet the one I want finds little interest in me,” she said sadly.

“Nothing could be further from the truth,” Solas murmured and laced their fingers together. “Instead I struggle to find reason as to why it is me you want.” 

“Must I need a reason to be attracted to you?”

Part of him worried that the magics that filled the anchor she bore were drawn to him. Inexplicably seeking the source, wanting to rejoin it, become whole.

“I'm much older than you, Abelath. Does that not bother you?”

“Should it? Do you see me as a child? Does it give you pause?”

“I have never seen you as a child,” he answered earnestly.

“Then why are you hesitating? My heart has been yours from the start, Solas.” She fit her body into his arms and wrapped her arms round his neck.

“This hardly seems an appropriate time or place,” he chuckled. Despite it all, his hands gripped her ass and pulled her closer.

“I believe there was a storage closet that way,” she grinned.

“You deserve more than a storage closet, Abelath.” Solas frowned.

“Perhaps, but how will I know you won't change your mind between now and… whenever you deem fit?”

Solas took her face in his hands and kissed her with fervor. 

“I'm done fighting this,” he whispered as he rested their foreheads together. “I want nothing more than to stay by your side. You have changed everything, Abelath. And I do not speak lightly.”

“I've longed to hear those words.” Her admission was soft and bespoke a heartache he'd never intended to give her.

[nilesdaughter]

Dragon Age Questionnaire

Tagged by the ever-lovely @lakambaeni​! I’m sorry it always takes me forever to get to your tags.

Tagging: @battlefox​, @tyishi​, @aurianavaloria​, and any other DA fans that follow me! But, as always, there’s no obligation to fill the tag :)

01) Favourite game of the series? I think DAI is my favorite in the series, because it was the one that really pulled me into the fandom.

02) How did you discover Dragon Age? As is usual for my entrance to fandom, it started with blogs I follow starting to share content about the game. (This was a little bit before DAI dropped.) It seemed cool, and @likhoradka​ had made a quick Handers comic that amused me, but I didn’t really get into it until @battlefox​ lent me a copy of DA2 so that I could see what all the hype was about.

03) How many times you’ve played the games? I’ve played all three games through to completion once; with DAO, I played most of the DLCs that were concurrent to the base game, but I only played the vanilla games for DA2 and DAI. HOWEVER, I have started several additional playthroughs, to the point where I have a small army of characters.

04) Favourite race to play as? Elves! Though, to be fair, this is a bias I generally have in fantasy settings.

05) Favourite class? Mages, because, again, the bias followed me from the fantasy setting in general.

06) Do you play through the games differently or do you make the same decisions each time? I try to play to each character, but I still usually end up making the same decisions (so far).

07) Go-to adventuring group?

DAO: Alistair/Dog, Leliana, Zevran

DA2: Varric, Fenris, Anders

DAI: Since this is the one that I have the most characters in, this is more varied depending on the playthrough, but my PERSONAL favorite combination is Varric, Dorian, and Iron Bull.

08) Which of your characters did you put the most thought into? Definitely Enansal, even though she’s just a glorified self-insert. I just write about her the most.

09) Favourite romance? Probably Cullen, but that’s because I’ve done that one twice.

10) Have you read any of the comics/books? I haven’t got a chance to, yet! I did buy myself a copy of “Asunder,” but I haven’t had time to actually read it.

11) If you read them, which was your favourite book? TBD ;)

12) Favourite DLCs? I mean, I do love “The Stone Prisoner,” because it gives you Shale, and I love them so much.

13) Things that annoy you. Mooostly the fandom. This is why I keep to myself and my little corner amongst the lovely people behind @dadrunkwriting and @asiansofthedas.

14) Orlais or Ferelden? Ferelden, because it’s always given me Celtic vibes and therefore reminds of Ireland :)

15) Templars or mages? Mages.

16) If you have multiple characters, are they in different/parallel universes or in the same one? I personally have them existing in parallel universes. However, I like the idea that all of the DAO characters end up joining the Wardens at some point or another. I also do have two separate Tabris playthroughs that have become my “Tabris twins” headcanon.

17) What did you name your pets? (mabari, summoned animals, mounts, etc)

Veleda’s mabari is Rowan. Since my first playthrough with Sylvia was with the vanilla game, she didn’t have her mabari, so I still haven’t thought of a name. Enansal and Cullen name their mabari Buster. Most of my other playthroughs have named mabari, though, but I have way too many to name them all haha I also never named any mounts, probably because I didn’t know that they could be named!

18) Have you installed any mods? I wish I could, but I definitely don’t have the space or know-how to install them.

19) Did your Warden want to become a Grey Warden? Veleda definitely did not. She was actually more than happy to stay in the Circle, because she definitely started out as a huge Loyalist, and was upset that she was basically forced into leaving with Duncan. She was eventually glad for the opportunity to live in the “outside world” though.

20) Hawke’s personality? Sylvia ended up being true blue lol

21) Did you make matching armor for your companions in Inquisition? No. I usually prioritized stats (and sometimes individual colors).

22) If your character(s) could go back in time to change one thing, what would they change?

Veleda: She wouldn’t have betrayed Jowan. Being away from the Circle made her realize that she should have put more value in his friendship.

Sylvia: Even if it ultimately spared his life, she always regrets NOT taking Carver to the Deep Roads with her, because she hates the time that they spent apart.

Elera: She never would have left her Clan prior to the events of DAI.

Enansal: She wishes she never had gotten involved with Aaric.

23) Do you have any headcanons about your character(s) that go against canon? Not particularly? I’d say my biggest canon-breaking content is my Tabris twins and my Kremquisitor playthrough.

24) Are any of your character(s) based on someone? Aisling Tabris, Sylvia Hawke, and Enansal Lavellan are all self-inserts, technically >_> Nan is the one that is most like me, though. Ash is my go-to persona when I make new characters, and Sylvia is really only a self-insert in the sense that all of her dialogue choices were based on what *I* would do in that situation.

25) Who did you leave in the Fade? Stroud, because holy frick, I could not break Varric’s heart like that.

26) Favourite mount? N/A

[buttsonthebeach]

Prompt: "Tomorrow They'll More Of Us" / Wisdom

Pairing: Past Solavellan and past f!Hawke x Merrill

Rating: Teen (for a passing reference to the very NSFW Solavellan one-shot “Unbent”)

Note: (Soo, this isn’t quite what you prompted, but I couldn’t let this scene go… I worked in one or two lines from “Tomorrow There’ll Be More of Us” and managed to use the overall concept of hearing the dead speak in your mind!) 

Ellana goes to Kirkwall after the events of Trespasser to carry some long overdue condolences to Hawke’s widow, and two Dalish women who have left their clans mourn the things they’ve lost along the way.

AKA the first time I write about my canon Hawke and of course it has to be sad.

****

The Hawke estate was only a few doors away from Ellana’s own estate (a word that didn’t feel any more real than it had the year before at the Winter Palace). That was Varric’s supposed reason for why she should walk down and introduce herself to Merrill.

“It would be good, right? You two being neighborly? Good for both of you.” Varric said the words with a smile but something was missing from his bluster. He’d gotten grayer in the year since he became viscount.

Ellana knew what he wanted. Varric fussed. He fussed over everyone. And right now he saw an opportunity to ease his own worries. Instead of fussing over her and Merrill separately, he could hope they would take care of each other.

“I’m not staying long, Varric,” Ellana reminded him. She was on her way to meet with Dorian in Tevinter. Kirkwall was just a small stopover - a week at most for rest and resupply and to check in with Inquisition agents spread throughout the Free Marches.

“I know,” Varric said. “But - at least say hi for me, would you? She’s a big fan of yours, you know. You’re the most famous Dalish elf since - well, ever.”

“Yes. The most famous bare-faced Dalish elf in all of Thedas. Did you ever mention that to her?” Ellana didn’t ask the other question on the tip of her tongue. Did you tell her about Solas? About Fen’Harel? Rumors were spreading, of course. But rumors were one thing. Hearing the truth from a friend was another. Just one more thing the Dalish got wrong.

“I mean, it’s in the book. Not sure how much she’s read, though. It - that part is after Adamant.”

Ellana looked away at the name. She let a breath out through her nose. “I’ll go, Varric. I will. I owe you that much. I owe her that much.”

“Thank you.” His voice was quiet and sincere.

So she went down to the Hawke estate the next day and the servant - Orana - directed her to the library and Ellana finally met the woman whose wife she’d left to die in the Fade.

“Mistress,” Orana said when they entered. Merrill looked up from her book and Ellana was struck at once by the brilliant green of her eyes. “Inquisitor Ellana Lavellan is here.”

“Just Ellana,” she corrected at once, reflexively, with a vague wave of her hand.

“Oh,” Merrill said. She stared, then recollected herself with a rapid blink of those big eyes. “Thank you, Orana.”

Orana bowed and slipped away, and they were alone.

“I’m sorry,” Merrill said when the door closed. She set her book down. “I didn’t know you were coming. Varric said you were here but not that you would come for a visit.”

“Of course I came,” Ellana said. But what kind of a foolish thing was that to say? Of course. Like they were old friends. Her left arm ached today. Phantom pain. “I heard so much about you. From Varric and from -”

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. She didn’t even want to say her name.

“From Marian,” Merrill finished. The name flowed beautifully off her tongue. Her Dalish accent made it sound rich and exotic.

“Yes. From Hawke.”

Merrill smiled, but she didn’t show her teeth. She rose from the chair and crossed the distance between them, and hugged Ellana tight. The gesture caught her so off guard that she didn’t even have time to offer the awkward, one-armed hug that counted as an embrace for her lately. Merrill didn’t seem to mind. She put her hands on Ellana’s shoulders when she stepped back.

“You’re shorter than I thought,” Merrill said, her tone thoughtful. A laugh escaped Ellana.

“Sorry to disappoint, I guess.”

“No, no,” Merrill said quickly. “I like it, actually. The Inquisitor is just my size. It’s a nice thought.” She cocked her head, searching Ellana’s face for something. “But - I thought you had vallaslin. Did Varric get that wrong? He always gets mine wrong. In one chapter of the Tale of the Champion he says I have Elgar’nan’s and in another he says it’s Mythal. Though I suppose it’s unfair since my birth clan does Sylaise’s marks a little differently than everyone else, but don’t you think he could at least get the name right?”

Ellana’s heart ached to hear Merrill speak. She was exactly as Hawke described. Fluttery, unfocused, and so unendingly kind.

“June,” she said when Merrill stopped. “I was marked for June.”

“Oh,” Merrill said. “Was? What happened?”

Ellana’s throat constricted, thinking of the cool glade in Crestwood, the warmth of Solas’s hands and lips - of the mosaics in the Crossroads.

“It’s a bit of a story.”

“Oh. I’m sorry - I didn’t mean to pry. I suppose I shouldn’t ask why you don’t sound very Dalish, either.”

Another laugh escaped Ellana. That explanation was at least simpler. Her city elf parents never gained the Dalish lilt in all the years they lived with the clan, and her own speech was molded by theirs. She did sound Dalish sometimes - she could play up one accent or the other if she chose - but these last four years spent amongst human nobles, trying her hardest to seem palatable to them, hadn’t helped.

“I don’t feel very Dalish anymore, to be honest.”

Ellana hadn’t meant to let the words slip out. But Merrill’s big green eyes softened, and she took Ellana’s hand and pressed it between both of hers.

“I know what you mean, lethallan.”

They ended up going for a walk in Hightown. They were both practiced in ignoring the stares of humans who didn’t want them there. They could move quietly through the crowds, and talk. Of their clans, and the last time they saw them (years, for both of them, but they were alive, and safe, and wasn’t that what counted?) and the shame they felt for leaving, the reasons they couldn’t go back.

“But it’s not all bad,” Merrill said at last. “I do good here, helping the elves in the alienage. We never did think of them much, did we? Just about aravels and halla and the next Arlathvhen. We didn’t do enough. Now I’m doing everything I can. And for a few years, I had my Marian.”

Ellana’s chest was slowly growing tighter and tighter with the things she wanted to say. About that smoke-filled ruin in the Western Approach. About the Fade and its many-eyed monsters. About the moment Hawke turned and said tell Merrill I’m sorry.

“And you had someone too, didn’t you?”

Ellana blinked, coming back to herself. “I’m sorry?”

“Someone you called ‘vhenan.’ The apostate mage. Marian wrote to me and said you two must have thought you were being very clever, calling each other vhenan and expecting no one to understand, since you acted like you were only friends. I suppose it never occurred to you that that’s what I called her.” Merrill’s tone was teasing, but her eyes were sad. Vhenan. It was a heavy word. It slowed their steps.

“I did. For a time. He’s - we’re -”

She balled her hand into a fist and did not picture the look in his eyes when he cradled her close. He would never forget her - but he wouldn’t stay.

“I - had heard some rumors. About him. About you. About the vallaslin. Some of the elves in the alienage have been talking about agents of a man who calls himself Fen’Harel.”

I was Solas first.

“Varric won’t answer my questions,” Merrill went on. “I think he fancies that he’s protecting me from something.”

“We shouldn’t talk about it here,” Ellana said.

Merrill threaded her arm through Ellana’s. They didn’t say much else as they walked back to the Hawke estate. It was pushing late afternoon.

“Would you like to come in for a bite?” Merrill asked. “Orana can make hearthcakes. I haven’t given up everything Dalish.”

“Of course.”

They ate the cakes in the small garden in the back of the house. When they were done Merrill looked faraway.

“They always make me think of Marian,” she said at last. “She was so puzzled when I first tried to make them. Well, I did make a mistake. A few mistakes. I had to explain the recipe to Orana and then she got it right, actually. But then Marian loved them. It was the first - it was the first thing I brought into this house that was really mine. That made it feel like it was our house. It was so many years ago but I still think of it every time.”

She was crying unashamedly. Only a few small tears, but tears all the same. Ellana wanted to push the table aside and crush her to her chest.

“Merrill -” she said finally. “I don’t have the words to say - I can’t -”

Tell Merrill I’m sorry.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. and felt empty at last.

She stood and went around the little table to crouch at Merrill’s side to hold her as well as she could. It wasn’t fair, she said to herself over and over again. It wasn’t fair that she walked out of that rift and Hawke didn’t. Ellana Lavellan got to live - she got to turn angrily on Clarel and demand that the Wardens get out of Orlais - that she got to welcome Solas into her arms that night and somehow miss again (again) the frantic way he buried himself in her like he could erase whatever it was that ate at his heart. It wasn’t fair that instead of Solas left grieving on the other side of that Veil, mourning the woman he would leave in a few months time in any case, the woman he would leave over and over again - that instead it was Merrill with her dark hair and green eyes and kind voice who sat here sobbing because her wife never came home.

Ellana had never regretted anything in her life as much as she regretted Adamant.

“She was so brave,” Ellana managed at last thickly. “Right until the very end. She was brave and funny and she protected us all. I wish I could have stopped her. I wish - if not for the Anchor I would have - and she wanted me to tell you that -”

“Stop,” Merrill said. “Marian did what she needed to do. I am not selfish enough to think that her life mattered more than the fate of all Thedas.”

Merrill lifted her head. Wiped her eyes. Looked around the garden. Ellana remained crouching at her side.

“We were bonded back here in the garden, you know. Marian thought that was such a quaint word. Bonded. I always called her my wife, though. I think that word meant more to her than bondmate. She liked it when I called her wife. We didn’t get much time for that. We couldn’t stay in Kirkwall long without someone finding out, and it was only a month later when she left for Skyhold. But I can still come back here and feel like she’s close whenever I want. Maybe that’s why I’ve never gone back to my clan.”

Ellana remembered her own bonding ceremony, Mahanon’s hands trembling in hers. It felt like a lifetime ago. She was a widow, too. She didn’t think of it so much anymore. Instead she imagined Solas speaking those words instead. The ancient promises. The trembling hands. Someday, when all of it was over. But it was a fantasy. Like so many other things she’d built her life around.

“The Fade is a strange place. I made it out alive once before. Maybe…”

“Maybe.” Merrill studied her hands. They reminded Ellana of Solas’s. They were callused in the same places. “Do you know what - I haven’t gone to Sundermount in a while. Would you like to join me tomorrow? I can show you where my clan stayed. There’s still an altar to Mythal high up, if we want to make an offering.”

Ellana agreed.

The next morning they rose early, wrapped their feet, packed salted jerky and fresh berries, and set out for Sundermount, pretending they were two ordinary Dalish girls.

They told stories on the way of the Arlathvhens they remembered, comparing notes, arguing over details. They determined they’d surely met before, when they were younger. They compared the lyrics to their favorite songs and the quirks of their individual clans. Merrill told stories of her years in Kirkwall, and Ellana shared hers of the Inquisition.

They talked about Hawke.

Ellana didn’t have many stories to share. Her time with the Champion of Kirkwall was brief. But together they made her live again with their words.

They talked about Solas.

Ellana shared how he once set his own clothes on fire, how he painted with such scope and skill, how he always had to kiss her one more time before bed or parting. How his vengeance cast down gods and sundered worlds and how he took the vallaslin from her face with such tenderness, kissed her and called her beautiful, and then left her in that glen. How he was always, always leaving. How he was Solas first, before anything else.

She wasn’t sure what kind of reaction she expected from Merrill when she explained all that Solas had revealed. She was First to a Keeper, and therefore even more intimately connected to the tales of an Elvhenan that never was than Ellana had ever been. But she’d also risked possession and death to restore one small piece of that world, had seen no sacrifice as to great or to small to restore their people’s rightful place -

“I think we all have to decide for ourselves what this means,” Merrill said at last, when the tale was done. “It’s so much to take in. To consider. And so many pieces are missing… And for you - Ellana.” She said her name with sudden urgency. “You had to see all of this firsthand. You had to hear it from the man who said he loved you. How do you feel?”

Ellana looked away. There was no word for what she felt. No word that she knew in Elvhen or Trade or any other tongue.

“I told you. I don’t feel very Dalish anymore.”

“No.” Merrill stopped walking. Ellana turned back to face her. “You are Dalish. No one can take that from you. Least of all the Dread Wolf. Being Dalish isn’t wearing vallaslin or sleeping in an aravel or praying to Mythal. We are the last of the Elvhen. Never again shall we submit. If you keep that in your heart - if you keep fighting as I do for all our people - then you are Dalish.”

It was a naive sentiment, perhaps. There were few Dalish who would agree with her. But it made Ellana’s heart a little lighter.

“Thank you,” she said. Merrill only nodded, decisively, like the question was settled once and for all.

“He really did love you?” She asked a bit later. They were close to where her clan had camped - where there would have been outward-facing statues of Fen’Harel.

No matter what happens - what we had was real.

“Yes,” Ellana said. “He really did.”

“No wonder you can’t go back to your Keeper,” Merrill said with a shake of her head. “I don’t think I could look Marethari in the eye and tell her I’d let the Dread Wolf take me, either.”

Ellana laughed, full up from her belly, so hard she had to set down the pack she was carrying and lean, wheezing, against a boulder. She laughed harder than she had in months, until there were tears in her eyes that she had to wipe away.

They walked all the way up to the altar Merrill had spoken of, for the view if for nothing else. It was sweaty work, the kind Ellana enjoyed. She had so few opportunities to use her body as a tool now - and that had always been her favorite kind of work. Scouting, climbing, foraging, hunting. She wrote reports now. Attended parties. It was good to feel her muscles ache and to reap the reward of the view: the mountain green below them, the blue slash of the Wounded Coast, and the gray stone of Kirkwall even further out. Looking at the altar, Ellana couldn’t help but wonder about Morrigan, about Flemeth. Where were they now? If they made an offering, would one of them appear?

“I came here a lot after I got word from Varric about what happened,” Merrill said. “I was angry at the Creators. Angry at Marian. Angry at you. I’m not angry anymore. People will always tell her story, however it ended.”

The breeze picked up. It carried the scent of pine resin and saltwater. The Free Marches. Home.

“I am,” Ellana said. “Angry. And afraid.”

Merrill looked to her, but Ellana didn’t meet her gaze. She thought of Hawke instead. Of a woman who had sacrificed so much with so little hesitation. She thought of all the times she’d wanted to simply lay down her head and stop fighting since the Exalted Council. She thought of Solas.

“I have so much work to do,” she said at last.

Merrill frowned, pursed her lips, and then finally nodded. “Yes. I suppose you do.”

Halfway down the mountain they managed to pretend they were ordinary Dalish women once more. They traded more stories, more laughter. They drank in the twilight calm. They got back to Hightown, and parted with another tight embrace.

“Dareth shiral, lethallan,” Merrill said.

“Dareth shiral,” Ellana replied.

Ellana carried Merrill with her when she left Kirkwall a few days later. Just as she carried Hawke - just as she carried Solas. She carried all of them, and hoped she was strong enough to bear the weight, to do what needed to be done.

[souridealist]

I have a dragon age theory

So, I was thinking about how weird the restrictions on Solas’s romance are, because they are not like any other restriction in the game, and, because my brain is a terible creature that will run off on me and return with horrible ideas unless I pay careful attention, I have now developed a Theory about ancient elves. This was originally a joke, but the more I think about it the more it starts to make horrible, horrible sense.

First, let us look at the oddities in Solas’s romance. With every other romanceable character, and with Vivienne, who is not a romanceable character at all, flirt options are available to all inquisitors whether or not the romance path is actually possible. An incompatible character will eventually turn you down, but the option to flirt still appears. Meanwhile, it isn’t even possible to flirt with Solas unless you are a female Lavellan; the options simply don’t appear for anyone else.

So: while Dorian and Cassandra are programmed not to be attracted to women, Sera and Blackwall are programmed not to be attracted to men, and Cullen is programmed only to be attracted to slender women six to eight inches shorter than he is, Solas’s orientation and preferences aren’t actually programmed; rather, the game is coded so that only female Lavellans are attracted to him. 

Furthermore, all the flirt options which set you on Solas’s romance path in the first place are responses to lines that Solas delivers exactly the same way to inquisitors male and female, Cadash, Trevelyan, Lavellan, or Adaar. Some of them are plentifully flirtatious lines in their own right, and f!Lavellan simply comments on the undertones of what he just said. The most notable ones are the class-specific flirts, when he comments on an Inquisitor’s muscles / iron will / grace of movement; and the scene in the Fade where they are dreaming of Haven. In this scene in particular, there’s astonishingly little transition – Solas says that he saw the Inquisitor close the rift and ‘felt the whole world change,’ and all noncompatible inquisitors simply move on from that remark, while the romance option plays out like this:

Lavellan: Felt the whole world change? Solas: A figure of speech. Lavellan: I’m aware of the metaphor. I’m more interested in ‘felt’.  Solas: You change… everything. Lavellan: Sweet talker. [She kisses him.]

So the scene plays out as if the line ‘felt the whole world change’ is a love confession – and he says that to any Inquisitor with high enough approval to see this scene. 

So, it is a reasonable conclusion to draw from the text that Solas isn’t straight at all, or exclusively interested in elves either – that, in fact, he is attracted to any inquisitor and develops at least the beginnings of a romantic interest in any inquisitor with a high approval level, but that, for some reason, only elven women will ever develop a reciprocal interest. Why might this be?

I present to you: ancient elven sex pheromones. 

I did say it didn’t start out as a serious theory. 

Here is my hypothesis: in the days of Arlathan, scent-based pheromone detection was a major part of heterosexual courtship. The modern Dalish ceased to emit them as they became mortal, and the fact was lost to history, but the ability to pick up on these pheromones remains. Without any idea that this was a thing, this pheromone detection remains at the subconscious level, but it is evocative. Thus, a female Lavellan will be receiving lowkey but constant signals that Solas is down to fuck, even if she’s parsing them at the subconscious level. (To be clear, I’m not talking sex pollen here. These are not pheromones that would to in any way impair her judgment or affect her ability to give consent. It’s simply a subconscious information delivery which contextualizes his behavior as attraction, and which she might find attractive as well.)

Meanwhile, to every other inquisitor, they may get along with Solas but he smells off-putting and weird. 

I specify that the pheromones were a part of Arlathan’s *heterosexual* courtship because otherwise a queer male Lavellan (or possibly any male Lavellan) ought to be able to subconsciously recognize the smell of Solas’s repressed boners, and thus ought to receive the flirt options. I can think of three possible reasons.

One, the elves naturally evolved in such a way that AMAB pheromones are only detected by AFAB people, and that female pheromones are only detected by AMAB elves. This seems possible, if it’s a part of reproduction, but unlikely – surely other information could be exchanged by pheromone as well. Besides, if queer behavior and attraction evolved naturally, why not queer pheromone reception?

Second: Only AFAB elves, in modern Thedas, retain the ability to read elven pheromones. It is a trait likelier to express in AFAB elves, which has ceased expressing in cis men entirely in the intervening ages, or possibly it was always a sex-linked trait; perhaps male elves never evolved pheromone receptors in the first place. At this point we run up against the limits of my knowledge of genetics, especially since I think most sex-linked traits are likelier to express in XY-chromosome humans – but who knows whether elven genetics bear any resemblance to human ones?

Third, though, and this is the one I think is likeliest: ancient elven sex pheromones did not evolve independently. The Evanuris of ancient Arlathan used magic to cause ancient elves to emit and detect these pheromones, and they designed the pheromones for heterosexual relationships. Whether this was a conscious, actively bigoted choice or a magical oversight by an unthinking heterosexual pseudo-god I can’t say, but it’s not like either one is exactly out of character for the Evanuris. 

Still, this detail distracts from the fundamental point, which is: bisexual Solas and the relic of Arlathan that is the smell of his boners, which everyone else finds frankly unsettling, except possibly f!Lavellan, who might be the kind of freak who’s into that. 

I can’t believe this is what I chose to do with my time.