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ar-ghilas-vir-banal · 13 days ago

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@fenharel-babe this is your fault. You left some tags and… time for me to live up to the gut-wrench of my name, I guess.

Memory was cruel.

His was sharp, acutely efficient at recalling the most minute details, from a scent on the breath of an Elvhen noble to the pauses between words meant to convey emphasis.

He could remember the first time he saw her. Laid flat on a sour straw pallet, drenched in sweat, the green glare of his Mark on her palm. Solas hadn’t focused much on her face then; he’d noted the Dalish markings of Mythal and that was enough of a reason not to examine the woman’s features for too long.

Would that he had. Would that he had simply stopped and allowed each and every single moment of their time together stretch for as long as they possibly could. There was always something drawing his attention. Always the next event, or mission. Always a bit of research.

And there was the matter of the Inquisitor’s own duties. She had been cast headlong into a den of vipers and she was at war from all sides, besieged and harried, fighting for not only her people and the world… but herself. Her personhood.

Her true self.

“I feel safe with you, my Solas,” she’d said once.

He could remember smiling at being called hers. He wanted to be. He longed to rise in the morning, warmed by her body and spirit, to live days at her side performing only simple tasks of the home together. It was the dream he liked best, even if it increasingly cut away at his heart; dreams with no chance of coming true were often jagged, weighty things.

Solas had also taken pride in the fact that out of all of their companions, he was the one in which she sought refuge and respite. He was the calm for her storm. There were times when he felt that his heart could soar for her, on the wind of her success and triumph…

Now, Solas felt as if his chest contained a fractured shard of obsidian. It sliced away at him with each breath, each push of blood through his lyrium-formed veins.

She lay still. As still as she had in Haven. The arm he’d severed some years back rested at her side. Her hair, longer with time, fanned out behind her head. Her face was serene and soft as driven snow. Not a crease, not a flaw; the blood from the wound in the center of her body had been cleaned away.

She could have been one of his paintings.

Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain were no more. Rook and the surviving Veilguard core team were quiet now, mourning their own dead. Morrigan was… somewhere. The various groups Rook had allied with were working on the wounded, fighting. Trying.

He hadn’t even been able to fight for her. She had been gone when he’d reached her. Face slack. Eyes wide open. She’d looked so small. Abandoned. Alone.

The Nevarran professor, Volkarion, Solas recalled numbly, had helped him bear up the Inquisitor. He was a slender man, graying of hair. But with kind eyes and an even kinder heart. He’d not made Solas speak while he made a place for them. Emmrich had even been so good as to find something to place under her head, and covered her with his own cloak.

It had been hours since it was all over. Solas hadn’t moved. He’d sat beside her, clasping her hand, watching her face. Pleading. Pleading with whatever gods there had ever been, in dreams or in the waking world, pleading with his own magic, with any Spirit that might hear him…

Elgar’nan had stabbed her with a blight tendril. He’d laughed, sensing Solas’ shock upon seeing her. Connecting the dots, as Sera once said.

Something in the mere recollection of their old Inquisition partner broke loose a final barrier within him, and Solas leaned on the table where Emmrich had laid his love, and wept.

He touched her arm, her shoulder, her face. Whispered her name. She had only wanted him to love her. And he had been too bent on his own internal morality that he’d refused both of them what they truly desired. Over and over he had pushed her away, but she had never stopped following him.

Solas had heard her calling out to Rook in the battle, Elven flying from her tongue, strong and swift. She’d moved with a grace befitting Andruil, quick and agile. Determined. She’d run to him, intent on freeing him from a huge arm of Blight. And she’d succeeded... Her life was the price for his freedom.

“Vhenan,” Solas begged. “I stopped, I- I will not… please. Please.” She, of course, did not answer. All Solas could do was hold her dead hand, kiss her dead lips, and hate every fiber of his being for bringing her to this fate.

It was exactly what he had done. He might as well have plunged the Fang into her heart, as well as Varric’s. He’d never deserved a second of her time. He’d never earned the gentle touches, the embraces round his back that made him want to melt… the kisses. The precious touches of her hands.

“She got your letter.”

Solas shuddered, unable to lift his head from her. But the knowledge seemed to claw its way through him, a demon born of grief. She’d come because of him. Why had she loved him? What in him had she been so… why? Why couldn’t she have loved one of the others? Blackwall… Thom? Or the General? Bull… they would have been good to her.

“For what it’s worth… she wouldn’t have been anywhere else. She spoke of you so… she never gave up. You proved her right. Stopping…”

“I killed her… I-“

Rook drew near, boots scuffing the ground. Their hand rested on his back. “… I’m so sorry, Solas. She deserved that future she wanted… she dreamed of being with you, you know? You were happiness to her… even just… the thought of you.”

“I wish she’d never loved me,” Solas whispered, cradling her face in his hands. He’d never held her with abandon before, placing his hands exactly where he wanted. Where she wished. He could never.

“Solas… I’m sorry but… I have an idea.”

Solas didn’t immediately look up. But he sighed, heavy, exhausted… he hoped he was dying. He hoped it would all just stop. Drawing back, he kept the Inquisitor’s hand, brushing his lips to her knuckles. Her fingers.

“Please leave me alone,” he asked in a gray, lifeless voice.

“It is just that… the Veil needs a source of power. To remain effective, a life must supply it.”

“Please…”

“You’re not hearing me, Solas. If your life could sustain the Veil… it could sustain her. I am a necromancer. Her spirit is here, with you. It will always be, until you release it. Stop for a moment… feel for her.”

Rook’s hand withdrew, giving Solas space. He lifted his head a bit, letting his eyes close. Tears fell across his cheeks, down his neck. His mind was so very tired, battered. He wished to stop… to cease.

“Vhenan?”

All at once, there she was. Warm. The light. He couldn’t see her but… she was there. As if his use of the name, her name, had given her just enough tether to let him see her.

“What must I do?” Solas half-sobbed, opening eyes that pled with the Professor, and then with Rook, who clasped his shoulder. Steadying him.

“Shed your blood, for the Veil and for her, let… let them mix.”

“Dorian.” How long the Wizard had been there, Solas didn’t know. But the man looked every bit as wrecked as Solas felt. They looked at each other across the broken down courtyard, matching haunted stare for haunted stare.

“I’m here for her, Solas. This wouldn’t be if it wasn’t for you… but she wants… wanted you. You fail, at least you’re protecting the world she loved. The world she died for.” Then Dorian’s face darkened, hardening. “And you will protect it.”

Solas swallowed, nodding once. There weren’t any words to speak.

Rook slipped something into Solas’ hand. The dagger. “Here… best hurry.”

He’d never done anything so easily in his long life as draw the blade over his hand. It stung, but he turned toward the glowing rift behind them, and slung the cupped handful of his own blood at it. It pulsed as if receiving it. Then Solas gingerly pulled open the Inquisitor’s tunic and laid the flat of his cut palm over the wound near her heart.

“Please,” he whispered, bending close to her, gathering her up to his chest. “Vhenan, please.”

But she just slumped there, her head nestled into the hollow of his shoulder. Not a stir of breath. Not a twitch.

Dorian stepped forward but Emmrich held up a warning hand. “The bond must be made. Give it a moment.”

Rook fidgeted, rocking side to side worriedly.

Only the necromancer watched with a serene understanding. And then… a slow smile.

“Mm… what… Solas? Solas…”

He wept. He’d broken before Mythal, as she released him. He’d shed tears so often in the Fade that Spite had remarked that he smelled of them… as well as in the Lighthouse. But never like this. Solas collapsed, knees buckling under him. He pressed his face into the Inquisitor’s lap, clutching her to him, unable to do anything else.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry-“

“Solas! Solas, Vhenan, Vhenan.”

She was crooning at him, her voice was divine, she was alive, she was alive!! Her hand smoothed over his neck, the back of his hand and shoulders. Then she made him look at her, and she smiled…

“Ar lath ma,” she said, tears brimming in her eyes. “I knew you could save us. I knew you could.”

He surged up into her arms, lifting her, shivering under her kiss at his forehead and temple, and then, miracle of miracles, Solas kissed her. It was a tearful, graceless thing full of trembling lips and hands that clutched at the other too tightly.

And it was perfect.

How Solas allowed her to leave his arms, he couldn’t ever know. She didn’t let go of him, though; she gave him her prosthetic hand to close his around.

Dorian wept but kissed his best friend’s forehead. “Take your wolf on home, now.”

Rook and Emmrich gave her encouraging smiles.

She tugged at his hand, giving him a wide, unrepentant smile. “Vhenan. Ir ghilana.” So he allowed her to lead him. Up the steps. Across the platform.

“Hamin.”

“Solas. Garas.”

He drew her close, close enough to see the flecks of green dance in her eyes. Her alive, vibrant, empowered eyes. “Ar ghilas vir banal… .” She was bound to him, to his life force… but the thought of her suffering his own fate. There would be a time where he may find atonement… but peace… no. Not if she remained. But she should remain.

The Inquisitor shook her head and smiled. There was nothing but pride and love in her face. It made Solas want to bow down to her. “Tel’banal ar ama. Vir shiral malasa… bellanaris.”

She kissed him. Short and gentle. It took his very breath. And then she tugged at him again. “Garas.” When the rift sealed behind them, neither looked back.

#i’m just rambling #this was going to be so much more tragic but I literally couldn’t do it #too sad man too sad #solas x lavellan #solas dragon age #dragon age the veilguard #solas x female lavellan #solavellan hell #my fic #I guess #this is how i cope #I’m just a wreck over these people good LORD ABOVE

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fenharels-teeth · 3 months ago

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solas extracting mythal’s essence from the dagger she was murdered with and keeping her trapped in the refuge he’d created for her, and mythal’s vallaslin looking suspiciously like solas’ spirit form… they matched each other’s freak

#dav spoilers #dav #dragon age the veilguard #dragon age #mythal #solas #mythal x solas

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caffinedragon · 5 days ago

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Bear with the Heart of a Dragon

Chapter 6:

Plot: Solas asks Ursa how she can stand having a body and a few old wounds begin to heal.

Solas hid in the doorway of Ursa's fortress as the Evanuris came for him, trying his best to keep out of sight but still be able to see what was going on.

Her and the first seven of her children stood between him, Ghillanain, Elgar'nan and Mythal, their wings, horns and tails on full display.

It was the way they always looked when the Evanuris came, or those that represented them arrived on their doorstep.

A not so subtle reminder of who they were dealing with when they stepped into her domain in the southern parts of the world.

"What do you want, Evanuris? Make it quick, we have things to do." Ursa growled in irritation, her true thick muscular form pulled up to it's near 8ft height.

Ghillanain spoke first, feigning diplomacy, "We have come to retrieve what belongs to us. We have it on good authority that you possess them."

Ursa lifted an eyebrow, "I have no magical items of yours, nor do me or my kin have need of them. whomever told you must have been mistaken."

Mythal stepped forward, "Come now, Revasan, you and i both know what you have. If you hand them over we will walk away quietly and peacefully."

Ursa shrugged, "I have no idea what your talking about. As I said, none of your artifacts are here. So you are clearly wasting your time."

That was when Elgar'nan charged forward, "Do not play with us, Mother of Monsters, you and your freaks have in your possession not only Ghilinain's new creations but Mythal's hound. I command you to give them back."

Ursa started to laugh then, an angry and mad thing that ended with smoke pouring out of her mouth.

"Give them back?" She snarled and snapped, "They are people! Living, breathing and thinking souls who sought refuge from Tyrants like you! They are not pieces of meat to be grind-ed or shiny baubles to to be passed around. So long as it is their choice to remain, they will be protected."

Mythal turned to Ghilinain, "Very well. Ghilinain."

Ursa smirked as Ghilinain pulled a magical horn from her robes and blew into it.

The sound echoed through the mountains of their forest home but nothing else happened.

Ghilinain blew through it two more times getting increasingly frustrated as Ursa and her children began to laugh.

"Aw...Confused Mother of Halla?" Ursa snarked.

Mythal hissed at her, "Why isn't it working? They should be coming to the call of the horn."

"I don't know!"

"May I explain?" Then Ursa opened her mouth as a huanting song echoed from her throat like a sirens call. Her children joined in, followed by dozens of voices of dragons and then finally hundreds, no, thousands of voices that belonged to the dragon blooded elven creatures that Ghilihain had created.

All appeared and surrounded the Evanuris, fire, lightning, and ice blazing in their eyes and mouths.

"What? How are you doing this, thief?" Ghilinain accused.

"Did you forget so quickly how you created them in the first place, Mother of Halla? Or shall i remind you?" She growled, smoke flowing out of her mouth.

Ghilinain stepped back as if she had been struck. "How-"

"Did i find out? Do you forget what my true title is? I am the Mother of Dragons. Me and my children rule the skies." She then roared as Zazzikel wrapped their arms around hers, tears flowing down her face. "Do you think for one moment i would not know what happened to my own child?"

Mythal snapped her head around towards Ghilinain, "You used one of The Seven? Are you a fool?"

"They were the only one that could survive the process."

"The Seven are her direct descendants! She bore and gave birth to each of them herself! And you thought she would just let that go?"

That was when Elgarnan sighed and stepped past them into Ursa's space, causing her to tilt her head.

"I am tired of this, Mother of Monsters. I command you to return to us what is ours. Now."

She smirked wickedly, "No."

"What?" He snarled.

"Did I stutter, Command?" She purred as she ran a tongue across pointed teeth.

"I am a God of Arlathan! You will obey!" He screamed.

"And before I was the Mother of Dragons I was known simply as Freedom. And I say... Fuck. You."

Elgarnan swung at her then, only for her to dodge with ease and answer with her fist burying itself in his stomach.

Elgarnan dropped to his knees, coughing and retching as dozens of dragons landed on the mountain sides surrounding the valley and hundreds of the dragon blooded elves came out of the woods to surround the three Evanuris.

Ursa looked down her nose at him in disgust as the other two tried to get him to his feet.

"It seems even those you created agree with me."

It was then Solas himself, adorned in her colors, made himself known next to her, his face clear of the facial markings Mythal had bestowed upon him.

"As do I." He spoke coldly as Ursa wrapped an arm around his shoulders and kissed his temple.

"How dare you!" Mythal yelled upon seeing him. "How dare you run to her after everything i have done for you!"

Ursa just turned to him, signaling that it was up to him to respond.

And so he did.

"A wolf is only loyal to those who treat it well." He spoke in an even, almost emotionless tone. "And where you only threw scraps on the floor, she allowed me to sit and eat at the table as if i was one of her own. What else do you expect? I was a spirit of wisdom after all."

When Solas's eyes opened, he found himself tucked into bed, sick and alone.

Or at least, until he saw movement out of the corner of his eye.

When he turned in it's direction he found Ursa, wearing only her breeches and the wrappings she used to bind her chest with, using a wooden practice sword to go through various sword forms as if in meditation.

Her moves were slow, and methodical, making her thick muscles ripple and shine with the sweat beading on her skin. Her hair was pulled up in a short tail, allowing his eyes to follow a bead of moisture, down her neck, over her broad shoulders, down her almost barrel like chest and to the firm and muscular abs with a soft layer of fat and a multitude of stretch marks that came from giving birth to the brood that he now noticed was missing from the room.

Sprits...she was...incredible.

You would think a spirit of freedom would chaff under the weight of a physical form but, no.

She had taken to it like a fish to water.

And to watch her thrive within it was a glorious site to behold.

Unlike him.

Solas moved and held up his hand in front of his face and sighed as he begun to feel the weight of his physical form once again.

He longed to be rid of this body that he didn't want.

It was cumbersome and heavy, isolated from the fade he loved.

He was tired of it.

But there was no escape.

He couldn't go back to the way he was.

No matter how much he wished too.

Ursa and he had tried every possible avenue before the veil but, Mythal's will was permanent.

It was why he had fought so hard for his people in the first place.

Many of them had been just like him, made to have a physical form, then used and tossed aside.

His eyes then drifted to Ursa as she stilled her training and began wiping her body with a cloth hung over a nearby chair.

He wished he had stayed with her.

He wished he had listened to her.

It was a foolish notion, though.

And now he had to live with it.

A hand, about the same size as Iron Bull's but the color of a tanned elf, wrapped round his as the bed dipped to account for a much heavier weight than his.

The hand was followed by a second, resting the back of it against his forehead.

He looked up at her face, seeing scales of lava running up the sides and molten gold cat like eyes where her green had been. On top of her head, grew a set of layered horns that ran from her temples back along her skull like burnt branches sharpened into spears. And as she checked him over and placed a gentle kiss on his knuckles absentmindedly in the way only a mother would, he noticed her long magma colored tail gently swing back and forth.

"You let the glamour down." Solas commented sleepily.

"Hmm?" She responded as she glanced at him. "Oh, yeah, I do that occasionally. Good for the muscles."

"I can see your horns and tail. But...where are your wings?"

"Gone. Or at least for a while."

Solas sat up, "What happened to them? Are you all right?"

She patted his hand, "It's fine. They got blighted when i tried to help my son during the fifth blight. It was either I had to take a good decade or two to regenerate them or become the sixth archdemon. I chose the former."

Her being a blighted archdemon was a terrifying thought.

She was called the Mother of Dragons, not just because they came from her but because she could sing to them and call them to her side.

All dragons saw her, no matter the form, as one of their own.

She was the eight missing Old God, lost to time and memory.

If she had been corrupted, one Archdemon would become an Archdemon and at least a half dozen blighted dragons or more on top of the horde.

"An unfortunate sacrifice but better than the alternative."

"I know right. Thankfully Dumatt figured out a sort of preventative in the same vein as the joining using his blood so I am protected now."

"Really?"

"Yeah. It's why the Ferelden Wardens aren't hearing The Calling like the others are. Instead they have all retreated to Soldier's Peak and sent out word to other Wardens that if they want the calling to stop to meet the Hero of Ferelden there. It's been helping. And he-" Then her eyes fell to his and the hand against his forehead switched to hold his face. "Hey, you okay Lethalan?"

Solas shook his head knowing lying to her was near impossible.

"What's going on?"

He sighed, "How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Stand having a physical form."

An empathetic look crossed her face before she pressed her forehead to his.

"Your physical body is getting to ya again, huh?'

Solas just nodded as he fought back tears.

"Well, to answer your question, the obvious answer is that you wanted to have it in the first place."

A self deprecating chuckle of agreement escaped him.

"But for those that posed the same question that were like you I will give you the same answer i gave them."

"And what is that?"

"Find something small that you can do with your physical form that you couldn't do as a spirit. It can be anything. Laying in the sun and feeling the warmth on your skin. Burying your face into the soft fur of a cat."

"Being sensually devoured by the mother of dragons." Solas accidentally offered.

Ursa's brow immediately rose as that feral and hungry smile of hers crossed her face. "Oh? That helped did it?"

Solas's face and ears turned red as a beet, realizing he had said out loud what he had meant to add mentally.

Ursa, having caught on laughed, "You didn't mean to say that out loud did you?"

Solas shook his head as he tried to hide his face.

She laughed harder, throwing her whole body into it and clapping her hands.

"Titans, I missed you." She giggled as she rubbed the top of his head.

He swatted her hand away as a few giggles escaped him.

"But in all seriousness," She began, "I wasn't kidding about that. If you can, find something that helps. Even if it is small. I remember you used to paint a lot and play music. Pretty hard to do that without hands." She wiggled her fingers for emphasis.

"True."

"For what it is worth," She sighed as she held his hand in both of hers, "I am sorry. I wish me and mine could have found a way to change you back. But, just try and remember that your not alone, all right? If your form gets to heavy, I am more than strong enough to help you carry it. Okay?"

"I will try." He smiled as pieces of his soul he had not realized were broken, began to mend.

"That's all we can do." She then rolled her shoulders as if shaking off the melancholy that had fallen between them. "So, Now that your awake, I have a much more serious question to ask."

"What is that?" He asked as she proceeded to sit cross legged in front of him.

"While you were snoozing away, I got too witness the countless holes people seem to love poking into your creation. So, while you were wandering around, have you gotten a chance to check in on Tweedle dee and Tweedle dumb recently?"

"Who?"

"Elgar'nan and Ghili'nain."

"Ah." Solas couldn't help but chuckle at the nicknames. "Yes, I have."

"What's the status?"

"Not good."

"On a scale of minor inconvenience to we're fucked."

"At present...a lot closer to the latter than the former."

"How close?"

"The prison is deteriorating."

"Fuck. How fast?"

"Fairly quickly."

"In mortal or Arlathan?"

"Arlathan."

"Okay. So we have time to at least get the current situation handled."

"Yes."

"Anything me or mine can do to help?"

"Unless you can find my Lyrium dagger then, no."

A flash of recognition crossed her eyes, "Which one?"

"The one I used to create the Veil."

'The one with the ring at the top that could be hidden as a statue of a woman?"

Solas tipped his head to teh side, "Yes. Do you know of it?"

"Well..."

One story of the Champions of Kirkwall later...

"It is contaminated with red lyrium? Where is it?"

"Last i knew Gabriel had it. He keeps it sealed up in a warded box that he keeps with him. He and Lucasan were trying to find a way to purify it as soon as Lucy recognized what it really was."

"So it is in your family's posession?"

"Yeah. Last i heard they nearly had it figured out they just need some missing ancient artifact they think is in Arlathan forest somewhere."

"Then it is safe." He exhaled in relief. "Can you get a missive out to them?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"I have the artifact they will need. We can have Varric or Razikale set up a drop for them, If that is all right with you?"

"No problem. I will get dressed and get right on it." She then turned to the desk in the corner and handed him some parchment and Ink from it. "You write up your letter and I will get everything arranged."

Solas began writing as she dressed and placed the glamour back over herself, but once she started heading for the door he grabbed her wrist.

"What's up?"

"I just...you and your kin have done so much for me despite..." He sighed as he tried to find the words through the guilt.

"Hey, don't worry about it." She reassured him as she rested her hand over his, "Your family. We don't leave family behind if we can help it."

He nodded, "Just...Thank you."

"For what?"

"For reminding me that...I am not alone in this."

She leaned down and pressed her forehead to his, "Your Welcome Lethalan." She then stood back up and patted his shoulder, "Now, you get that letter written and get some rest. We have a big day tomorrow."

"Of course."

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #ancient elf lavellan #solas x female lavellan #solas x inquisitor #solavellan

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daitranscripts · 7 months ago

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Skyhold Conversation

Morrigan

Skyhold Masterpost

The PC speaks with Morrigan in the gardens.

Morrigan: My [lord/lady] Inquisitor. Morrigan: Wandering the gardens, I see. Morrigan: Greetings, Inquisitor.

1 - Dialogue options:

Investigate: Tell me more about you. [2]

Investigate: Thoughts on the Inquisition? [3]

Investigate: What are you working on? [4]

Investigate (after the Temple of Mythal): You know about elven lore? [5]

Investigate (after meeting Flemeth): Did Flemeth tell the truth? [6]

Investigate (after the Final Piece): What will you do now? [7]

General: Goodbye. [8]

2 - Investigate: Tell me more about you. PC: I'd like to know more about you.

Morrigan: Ah, yes. Whence comes the mystery woman, slinking her way into the Inquisition’s ranks? Once, I was an apostate, living well away from the banal influence of the Chantry in the Korcari Wilds. Then came the Fifth Blight with its darkspawn, and I left Ferelden for the empress’s court. ‘Tis certain the nobles of Orlais breathe a collective sigh of relief that I am now here.

Morrigan (if asked before): If you have questions, then ask.

9 - Dialogue options:

Investigate: You were in the Fifth Blight? [10]

Investigate: You’re an apostate. [11]

Investigate: Why the Orlesian court? [12]

Investigate (if Morrigan had Kieran): Tell me about Kieran. [13]

10 - Investigate: You were in the Fifth Blight? PC: You were in Ferelden during the Blight? Morrigan: The Blight began in the Korcari Wilds, so yes—I experienced it firsthand. Indeed, I fought at the Hero of Ferelden’s side for a time. [They are] the reason the Blight was defeated. ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ Morrigan (HoF went through eluvian with Morrigan): We… became close, closer than I ever thought possible. When I left, he perused me. Morrigan (HoF romanced, did not go through eluvian): We were… very close. It was difficult to leave him. Morrigan (not romanced, did ritual with HoF): In the end, what he did for me… I will always be grateful. Morrigan (did ritual with Alistair/Loghain): I wish things had gone differently in the end. It had to be, yet… Morrigan (not romanced, did not do ritual): We did not part on good terms. I regret a great deal, but that most of all. ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ Morrigan: And after that, I can to Orlais. The last place one would look for me, or such was my hope. [back to 9] ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ 11 - Investigate: You’re an apostate. PC: It’s odd that an apostate can live so… openly. Morrigan: (Chuckles.) It confuses those who expect apostates to cower and hide. I stand boldly before them and demand to know why I need some Chantry mage to teach me to control my power. They would put me on a leash so they can feel safer at night? I am uninterested in their comfort. Naturally, it helps to have friends in high places. [back to 9] ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ 12 - Investigate: Why the Orlesian court? PC: The Orlesian court seems like an odd place to find someone like you. Morrigan: That was the point, originally. I knew the empress was intrigued by the arcane, and that I could answer question no Chantry mage could. Thus we fit together nicely. I became her advisor and she my benefactor and source of refuge. Morrigan (Celene died): The moment Celene perished, my time in court was done. I do not miss it overmuch. [back to 9] Morrigan (Celene lived): Truth be told, our arrangement would not have lasted much longer. Too many wagging tongues, even for Celene. [back to 9] ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ 13 - Investigate: Tell me about Kieran. PC: Tell me more about your son. ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ Morrigan (Old God Kieran): He is very special young man. PC: Special in what way? Morrigan: In every way. At first, Kieran was a means to an end but as he grew… I never thought of myself, Inquisitor, I had no good example to follow. I find myself becoming something I can barely recognize. [back to 9] ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ Morrigan (Human Kieran): I had him before I came to Orlais. He… is a delight, truly. PC: You sounds surprised by that. Morrigan: More than you can know. Kieran changed me. I will protect him to my last breath, if I must. [back to 9]

3 - Investigate: Thoughts on the Inquisition? PC: Now that you’ve seen the Inquisition up close, what are your impressions?

Morrigan: ‘Tis remarkable, what you have built. I will give you that.

Morrigan (secrets perks highest): Leliana has built a network of spies beyond anything Thedas has seen. Morrigan (forces perks highest): Soldiers are camped outside Skyhold in numbers that would give any nation pause. Morrigan (connections perks highest): A web of favors has wrapped every noble family in southern Thedas around your fingers. Morrigan (all perks equal/Inquisition perks highest): You have an army, a web of agents, and political favors owed you from every major played.

Morrigan: All this in precious little time, conjured from thin air through the power of fervor alone. I wonder if Corypheus suspects what he was enabling, just as I wonder what will become of all this once he is defeated.

Dialogue options:

General: First we must defeat him. [14]

General: I’m not sure what’s next. [15]

General: The Inquisition will continue. [16]

14 - General: First we must defeat him. PC: We have to defeat him first. Then I’ll worry about what’s next. Morrigan: Should that happen, the world will lie at your feet… more or less. [17] ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ 15 - General: I’m not sure what’s next. PC: I have no idea what will happen once all this is over. Morrigan: Do you not? No doubt there will be countless men and women with suggestions. [17] ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ 16 - General: The Inquisition will continue. PC: Whatever happens, the Inquisition will survive. Morrigan: That alone is worthy of wonder. A new player on the stage, a figure of might and marvel. [17] ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ 17 - Scene continues. ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ Morrigan: Beware the heights you reach, Inquisitor. When this is done, many will be eager to knock you back down. [back to 1]

4 - Investigate: What are you working on? What have you been doing to help us?

Morrigan: Currently, my efforts are focused on determining what Corypheus is and where his power comes from. The elven orb he carries is what draws my attention. I wonder if the power he used to tear open the Fade in fact came from the orb. Perhaps it is even the source of your Anchor. If I learn of its origin, I may also learn what Corypheus now intends—as well as his weaknesses.

18 - Dialogue options:

Investigate: Would you fight alongside me? [19]

Investigate: What about his dragon? [20]

Investigate: Could he become a god? [21]

General: I appreciate your efforts. [22]

General: We have little information. [23]

General: I need more from you. [24]

19 - Investigate: Would you fight alongside me? PC: I could use your company for my excursions outside Skyhold. Morrigan: I have spent my share of time wandering the wilderness in the company of others, Inquisitor. Thank you for the invitation, but for now, I will restrict my efforts to researching the arcane. [back to 18]

20 - Investigate: What about his dragon? PC: Do you know anything about his dragon? Morrigan: It has the appearance of an Archdemon. Of that I am certain. A true Archdemon, however, is supposedly the corrupted form of an Old God. Has Corypheus actually dug up one of the ancient prisons? If so, why has a new Blight not begun? His dragon is something else, something connected to his blighted nature as well as his magic. Beyond that, I cannot say. [back to 18]

21 - Investigate: Could he become a god? PC: Is it even possible that Corypheus could succeed? Morrigan: The Black City exists. Wherever one goes into the Fade, it is visible in the sky. The last time Corypheus and his cohorts stormed its doors, the unleashed the Blight upon the world. This time? Perhaps he might indeed gain untold power, becoming something unto a god. It is also possible he could unleash something far worse than the Blights. So yea, Corypheus could succeed in his goal. If not, his attempt alone could destroy the world.

Dialogue options:

Investigate: He thinks I’m his rival. [24]

[Back to 18]

24 - Investigate: He thinks I’m his rival. PC: Corypheus says I’m a rival. Does that mean… Morrigan: Could you become a god? That depends: are you prepared to use your Anchor to enter the Black City? Dialogue options:

General: Definitely not. [25]

General: I don’t know how. [26]

General: Yes, if I could. [27]

25 - General: Definitely not. PC: No. Never. Morrigan: Tell Corypheus that and see if he believes you. [back to 18] 26 - General: I don’t know how. PC: I… wouldn’t know how, if that’s even possible. Morrigan: Perhaps Corypheus fears the moment you learn. [back to 18] 27 - General: Yes, if I could. PC: If the Anchor would let me do that? Absolutely. Morrigan: Then Corypheus is correct. You are a rival. [back to 18]

22 - General: I appreciate your efforts. PC: However you can help, it’s appreciated. Morrigan: I am doing what I can. In time, we shall see what more I can offer you. [back to 1]

23 - General: We have little information. PC: We know so little about Corypheus. Morrigan: Continue prodding at Corypheus, Inquisitor. Elicit a reactions, and we may yet learn from it. [back to 1]

24 - General: I need more from you. PC: Someone of your skills could do more. Morrigan: I am doing what I can. In time, we shall see what more I can offer you. [back to 1]

5 - Investigate: You know about elven lore? PC: You seem to know a great deal about elven lore. Morrigan: The Dalish are not the only ones interested in the distant past, Inquisitor. Indeed, my skills allow me access to places the Dalish dare not even dream of. The ancient elves hold secrets they have not yet given up, secrets about the foundation of Thedas itself. Thus, they are my focus. Corypheus clearly feels the same. [back to 1]

6 - Investigate: Did Flemeth tell the truth? PC: Do you trust what Flemeth told us? Morrigan: About what she is? I… am uncertain. I knew there was more to her than I realized, that she was not truly human—but this? I once found her grimoire, and that was where I learned her immortality was gained by stealing the bodies of her daughters. Flemeth claims I misunderstood: “It is not forced on the unwilling.” Meaning I might agree to such a thing? Impossible, yet there seemed an undeniable sense of truth to the things she told us. All my years spent hunting for arcane mysteries, and the greatest was the one I left behind. [back to 1]

7 - Investigate: What will you do now? PC: So what do you intend to do now?

Morrigan (Morrigan drank, had Kieran): Once Corypheus is defeated, I will take Kieran and leave. Morrigan (Morrigan drank, no Kieran): Once Corypheus is defeated, I will undoubtedly move on. Morrigan (PC drank, Morrigan had Kieran): Now? I will take Kieran and leave. Morrigan (PC drank, no Kieran): Now? I will move on. You have what you need to face Corypheus.

Morrigan (Morrigan drank): Where I will go is is uncertain. I must consider the fact that Flemeth may have plans for me. I am, after all, her servant. Such a delight. Yet we must now consider the coming battle. I hope all I learned from the well proves worthwhile. [back to 1]

Morrigan (PC drank): You are her servant, but I am her daughter. I doubt she will let me slip completely from her clutches. Whatever happens, I wish you well in the coming battle, Inquisitor. [back to 1]

8 - General: Goodbye. PC: I’ll leave you to the garden. Morrigan: As you like. Morrigan: Until next time, then. Morrigan: Of course.

#dragon age inquisition #dragon age #dai #dai transcripts #dai dialogue #dragon age transcripts #dragon age dialogue #dragon age inquisition transcripts #dragon age inquisition dialogue #morrigan #long post #veeerrrrry long post #morrigan sure does have a lot to say

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mtreebeardileswrites · 1 month ago

Text

DA Timeline

Dates and important events, largely gleaned from wikis and in-game codexes and estimations

DATV spoilers towards the end

@theoriginalladya wanted to have a general timeline somewhere we could all see it haha, figured I could edit/update it as I go

Timeline:

6:30 Steel

Par Vollen conquered by Qunari

6:32

Qunari invade Seheron and Rivain

6:42

Most of Imperium conquered by Qunari

Includes Ventus

7:25 - 7:84 Storm

Tevinter allies with Orlesian Chantry to partake in New Exalted March in an effort to retake lost territory

Three Exalted Marches against the Qunari

7:34 Archon Nomaran

Elected directly from the Circle of Magi, Nomaran abolished laws forbidding mages from holding political office, allowing Magisters to retake their positions in Tevinter government as its rulers

7:84 Llomeryyn Accords

Armistice that stopped the war with the Qunari, signed by all human nations save Tevinter; Tevinter still at war with Qunari to present day

9:10 - Dragon

Alistair Theirin born

9:11

Dorian Pavus born

9:12

Kal-sharok rediscovered

Antaam (under Qun) offensive against Tevinter, pushed back to Seheron

9:16

Cassandra Pentaghast joins Seekers after death of brother

9:20

Empress Celene ascends Orlesian throne

Malcolm Hawke and family settle in Lothering

Eamon sends Alistair to monastery at Isolde’s request

9:21

Meredith Stannard named Knight-Commander of Kirkwall

9:22

Cassandra Pentaghast thwarts assassination attempt on Divine Beatrix, “Day of Black Skies”/ “Day of Dragons”

Cassandra named Right Hand of the Divine

9:25

King Maric thought lost at sea; imprisoned by Antivan Crows

Cailan ascends Fereldan throne; marries Anora

New Arishok named after previous one dies in Seheron

Grey Wardens begin to sense incoming Blight

9:27

Malcolm Hawke dies in Lothering

Magister Nihalias overthrows Imperial Divine, taking mantle for himself

9:28

Branka takes her entire house sans Oghren into Deep Roads in search of Anvil of the Void

Fenris escapes slavery

Leiliana takes refuge in Lothering

9:29

Duncan recruits Alistair into Wardens

9:30

Fifth Blight; events of DAO; some events of DA2

9:31

Urthemiel slain, ending Fifth Blight

Kieran conceived, taking soul of old god (June)

Events of Awakening (Justice, Amaranthine, Mother, The Architect)

9:32

Events of Witch Hunt (tracking down Morrigan)

9:34

Arishok attempts to overthrow Kirkwall; qunari expelled from city by Hawke. Hawke named Champion of Kirkwall by Meredith

Dorothea becomes Divine Justinia V

9:37

Corypheus awakens; events of Legacy; put down by Hawke

Anders destroys Chantry, setting off Kirkwall rebellion, eventually Mage Rebellion

Orsino and Meredith killed by Hawke

9:38

Fiona elected Grand Enchanter

College of Enchanters rejects proposal to dissolve Circles; College is then dissolved by Chantry

Morrigan resurfaces as Arcane Advisor to Celene in Orlais (Kieran is 7)

9:40

War of Lions in Orlais (civil war referenced in DAI?)

Briala reactivates Eluvian Network

Felessan killed by Solas? Masked Empire events?

Uprising at White Spire Circle, leads to Seeker Lambert to cancel Nevarran Accords, thus splitting Seekers from the Chantry

Circle of Dairsmuid in Rivain annulled

College of Enchanters (?) vote to split from the Chantry; Lambert declares Circles dissolved, then disappears

Discovered secret of Tranquility, and how it can be undone?

Lucius Corin takes over as Lord Seeker

Cassandra and Leiliana set out to reform the Inquisition

Solas awakens

Strikes deal with Corypheus, giving him the orb that leads to the Breach

9:41

Circle of Hossberg mages, along with Wardens, find remnants of the Fourth Blight

Isseya’s diary

Events of DAI

9:42

Inquisitor tracks Corypheus down to the Arbor Wilds

Morrigan takes the power of the Well of Sorrows

Events of Jaws of Hakkon

Inquisitor Ameridan

Events of The Descent

First learning of the Titans

Shaper Valta

Corypheus defeated

Divine Victoria

Wardens discover clutch of 13 griffon eggs

Flemeth/Mythal killed by Solas, who absorbs her power

Before this, Flemeth/Mythal imparts Mythal’s memories to Morrigan

Unclear if Flemeth/Mythal removed June's spirit from Kieran prior

9:44

Magister Halward Pavus murdered

Trespasser

Solas revealed as Dread Wolf/Fen’harel

Dragon’s Breath/Qunari attempt to stop Solas

Later condemned by Qunari leadership in Par Vollen as unsanctioned

Kieran is 13

9:44-45

Rasaan takes control of the Antaam, launching unsanctioned invasion into Tevinter

Ventus

Carastes

Neromenian

Vyrantium

9:52

Events of DATV

Varric and Harding tasked with finding Solas in the North

Recruit Rook

Varric dies

#reference #DA timeline #timelines #will fill in more the more we learn and confirm lol #datv spoilers

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championofthefade · 22 days ago

Text

Eirlin Lavellan

Romanced ♡ Blackwall

(Also ♡ Solas)

Dalish, vallaslin of Mythal, she/her

Knight-Enchanter, Winter/Spirit

Inquisitor, Herald of Andraste

Mount: Great Frostback Elk, Ithelan (watcher)

Inquisitor for Mihren

Varric’s Assigned Nickname: Dreamer

Main Party: Varric, Blackwall, Dorian or Solas

9:41-942 Dragon (25-26)

Sided with the Mages

Divine Leliana (Softened)

Recruited the Wardens

Pardoned Blackwall

Sera stayed with the Inquisition

Iron Bull becomes Tal-Vashoth, Chargers saved

Cole is More Human (Blackwall Romance) / Spirit (Solas Romance)

Vivienne received the Wyvern Heart

Cassandra did not reform the Seekers

Jospehine's family matters are settled diplomatically.

Cullen no longer takes lyrium

Dorian reconciled with his father

Solas freed his friend, Wisdom

Varric discovered the red lyrium source

Briala and Celene Rule

Left Hawke in the Fade (heavily regrets the decision)

Drank from the Well of Sorrows, Mythal’s Creature

9:44 Dragon (28)

Disbanded the Inquisition in light of Ameridan’s Inquisition

Swore to redeem Solas

9:52 Dragon (36)

Leads efforts in the South, Skyhold once again a refuge

Sees Solas Redeemed (both friendly and romanced endings)

#oc: eirlin lavellan #ship: heart laid bare #ship: indomitable focus #dragon age #da inquisitor #da inquisition #blackwall x lavellan #blackwall romance #solas romance #solavellan #the datamine for the inquisitor’s age in veilguard influenced the ages #worldstate: in hushed whispers

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dreadfutures · 1 year ago

Text

I was doubly inspired by this prompt from @rosella-writes for my #shadows in the sun AU for young!Ixchel & Kieran and what they get up to during DA4.

For @dadrunkwriting

Words: 2109

-:-:-

Ixchel knew mana exhaustion when she saw it, and she was honestly surprised Kieran hadn’t died from it yet. He had been a dragon, and then himself, and then he had flung not only himself across a whole canyon but taken her with him in one Fade-step the likes of which she hadn’t thought possible.

She had been surprised enough when he was capable of speech after all of that, but his impressive reserves of strength or foolishness could not last forever, she supposed. He had collapsed not long after they had made their way to the other side of the mesa. It had been up to Ixchel, then, to carry him down to where the cliffs dripped into a valley of trees, where they might be hidden from those that pursued him. She hoped.

Ixchel nestled Kieran in the roots of a tree to keep him out of the wind, on a bed of leaves to keep him from losing too much heat to the ground. While he rested, she worked.

She was no stranger to finding her way in the wilderness without supplies, though she resented the fact that she had been forced to leave them in her mad dash to help Kieran. Her bedroll, the oiled tarp, and the wrapped packages of salted fish she had brought with her now lay scattered on the red floor of the desert to the southwest. Regardless, she had no trouble making a lean-to, and setting up some snares, and digging a pit for a low-smoke fire, with nothing but her hands and the tools she could find in nature. It was a matter of principle, if nothing else, that she was annoyed.

They were near water—she had made sure of that—and she had fortunately had her canteen, flint, and a few other small trinkets in the pockets that lined her clothes. She left Kieran to quickly refill the water she had drained while crossing the desert, and when she returned, she found him just on the cusp of waking.

She was relieved, and she plunked herself down beside him, ready to offer him a sip as soon as he could sit up.

“What happened to finding shelter?” he groaned, with the expression of a child pulled out of bed too early, and she considered upturning her canteen on his lap in retaliation.

“We’ve got cover from the wind, water nearby, dry earth, and plenty of game,” Ixchel said instead. “Your mother would be grateful for such bounty.”

She reached for him as he struggled to sit up on weakened arms, and he wrapped his hand around her singular wrist for support—but then he didn’t let go.

He held her there and stared at her intently, golden eyes like a dragon’s, like his mother’s, boring into hers.

“My mother is missing, ‘Chel,” he said soberly.

Ixchel hated how the news, which should have been a punch to the gut, was just another bitter truth she could roll with. She was not shaken like she should have been, and she returned his gaze without surprise.

“Have you heard about the—” she began, but Kieran cut her off.

“The evil gods returning? My grandmother warned us all of that a decade ago,” he said.

“Alright,” Ixchel said. “Tell me what you know.”

“After Papae died, Mamae let the Well guide us to places that were safe… Places where the ancient people hid from the Evanuris.” Kieran’s voice had softened a little, gaze turning glassy and distant. “But then—the Well warned us that nowhere was safe. That the refuges we had found belonged to Fen’Harel, and so would she if we stayed. We were going to make a decision together, but she disappeared in the night without a trace. She left everything: her staff, her books…”

“Do you think Mythal took her? Fen’Harel?” Ixchel asked. “Controlling the Well?”

Kieran shook his head vehemently. “No,” he said, “because Fen’Harel came looking for her. And—” he sucked in a breath, having grown pale as if he felt ill at what he was about to say “—I know that it wasn’t Mythal, either. The part of me that she took… Fen’Harel holds it now. I could feel it in him, and I know my grandmother wouldn’t have given it to him freely, not after everything she did to take it!”

Kieran’s grip had grown exceedingly tight around her wrist—enough to make her flinch. Despite his wiry frame, delicate in ways his mother was but his father wasn’t, he carried a surprising strength in his hands. He did not seem to realize it, fixated and nearly frantic as he continued his explanation:

“I think Mamae went looking for the same thing my father did. It was his only hope, and he failed, and I think it’s her only hope, too. Our only hope.”

“A cure for the Blight?” Ixchel asked.

“No!” Kieran exclaimed, as if she had uttered the most disappointingly stupid thing he had ever heard. “An untouched place, a place where time, and magic, and war, and death, and yes the Blight, have never trespassed.”

Ixchel pursed her lips and waited for him to continue, loathe to say something else to earn his disapproval. Her silence, unfortunately, seemed to earn the same outcome, for he released her hand and fisted both of his in his hair.

“It’s the only place where she wouldn’t be in danger of being controlled,” he said insistently, “because the Evanuris have no power there—and that’s why we need to lure them to her.”

“What?” Ixchel yanked her hand back from him, a fury rising in her that did surprise her. “If she made it there, she’s safe, Kieran. What the fuck do you mean ‘lure them to her’?!”

Before she knew what she was doing, she was on her feet. “She’s your mother, Kieran! I know she talks a lot of shit about sacrifice and using people but she’s your mother!”

“Do you think I don’t feel that!” Kieran shouted back, further shocking her, but not shocking her out of her anger. “This is the only option! I know—I just know this is what she wants us to do, since she can’t do it alone—”

“Gods above and below, maybe it’s what she wants you to do,” Ixchel spat, “but you can’t ask me—”

“To bring danger to the only person who’s ever treated you like family? That’s exactly why I am asking you!”

Kieran looked up at her with tears of desperation in his eyes, and she was haunted by his words, and by the eyes that looked so much like Morrigan’s.

Tears welled in her own eyes as his words sank in. He had given voice to something she had never had the courage to admit even to herself. But on a level that was fundamentally worse, he had noticed it in the first place—the one thing she had so dearly wished to hide when they last traveled together.

Morrigan and her Warden had taken her in like family, after Corypheus’ defeat scattered all her friends in the Inquisition to the far corners of the world. Morrigan had taught her elven, and ancient elvhen, when even Solas hadn’t deigned to. Morrigan had shown her a softness that her steely exterior hid from all but precious few. Morrigan had made her feel wanted, safe, and special, like no one else had ever made her feel.

Yes. Morrigan had been the closest thing to a mother to the young Inquisitor, and it went against every fiber of her being to jeopardize that.

Even if Ixchel had turned her back on them once before.

“You have no idea—” Ixchel didn’t know where she was going. “Do you think I owe—” But that was terribly, terribly wrong, too. “Kieran, I just—I can’t.”

“No,” he said bitterly, “and neither can I. Not alone.”

Ixchel’s lashes fluttered, sending hot tears spilling down her cheeks, and she took a step back, and then another, and then another, until Kieran was just a shadow in the crook at the base of the tree and she was beginning to melt into the forest.

Despite the anger and—and fear that filled her, she found herself calling out to him on reflex: “I’ll be back.”

“Take your time,” he said, sounding defeated.

Ixchel turned her back on him, and she walked away into the woods.

Instinct guided her where her turmoil-rattled mind could not. Her stomach was aching for food, and she needed to set up the snares for small animals, and to forage for some other forms of sustenance in the interim. One by one the ropes she had fashioned left her hands, placed on game trails she sensed more than saw. She dug up roots and nibbled at them to identify which ones might be worthwhile, ignoring dirt and fibers. And when she finally felt calm enough to think again, she found herself crawling in a dense thicket of tangled berry trees.

They were similar to those she had scavenged in Ferelden as a child: red-turned-black, with many tiny beads of juice squished together into oval gems. These, however, she found to have thorns.

Her blood welled berry-red in her thumb, drawing her out of her stormy fugue and back into the moment. As she sucked at the wound and considered the lay of the land, she gave thought to Kieran’s request.

It was no fault of his that his maternal lineage was tangled in occult mystery, curses, and cursed luck. It was not his fault that his mother had become entangled with the Well of Sorrows, submitted to the slavery of the Evanuris in one way or shape or form—if anything, that blame lay on Ixchel’s shoulders. And it was not Kieran’s fault that he had been left alone in this world, robbed first of a childhood, and of friendship, and then of his father… and now, his mother, too.

He needed Ixchel, and he had reason for seeking her out. It wasn’t unkind, at least at its core.

She was all he had left.

Her heart ached at that acknowledgment. She felt entirely unworthy of his hope, but it was fact: Morrigan and Halevune had taken her in, kept her safe, educated her, and brought her on their travels, with Kieran. They had been companions, and friends, for years. She cared deeply for his parents, and for him.

Who else could Kieran say that about?

She wished he had someone better equipped to help him than the meager shadow of the Inquisitor she had become in recent years.

Ixchel sniffled as she reached for the berries again, and with greater care she began to collect them. It was difficult and tedious work to avoid the thorns and apply enough force to pluck the fruit from the branches, all with one hand. It had been mid-afternoon when she’d left, and it was getting quite dark by the time she returned, laden with the spoils of the forest.

“You returned,” he said, and her heart sank, realizing he had thought she’d left him.

…Again.

Ixchel set down the folded cloth full of berries and began to dig roots out from where she’d stuffed them down her clothes.

“I did,” she grunted.

They were quiet as she smacked dirt off of the vegetation. When she went to figure out how to light the fire, Kieran saw her intentions and cast a simple spell, bringing sparks to life in the tinder.

“Thanks,” she said, and sat back with a thump on the ground beside him again, nestled against the tree. “Look, lethallin—”

“I don’t know if she made it, lethallan,” he said quickly, squeezing his fists in his lap. “I don’t know what we’ll find there. I don’t know how we’re going to lure the old gods to the edge of the world. But I know, I just know—”

Ixchel held out her fist in front of him, and he fell silent. Realizing he had misinterpreted the motion, she opened her hand and dropped a berry into his lap.

“I’ll help you,” she promised.

Kieran gave a wet laugh. “Why?”

She shifted uncomfortably and looked down at her thorn-pricked hand. “Because I don’t have a better idea, I’m tired of turning my back on the world, and…” Her throat worked in vain to keep the tears out of her voice. “…And I’m tired of being alone.”

Kieran rolled the berry in the palm of his hand, leaning into her shoulder like he had been struggling to keep himself upright.

“Yeah,” he said down to his hands. “Me too.”

#da drunk writing circle #shadows in the sun #these ones have thorns #everything is inverted in reflection

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liaragaming · 2 months ago

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Mythal - Felassan Parallels (Solas's past relationships)

I was thinking other day about my Lavellan and how important Solas was to her to be able to go to him and just vent. Thinking about how Solas was the only one who truly saw her for who she is and respected her. Cassandra and her "one more god" nonsense. Varric saying he did in fact see her as Adraste's chosen. Solas was the one person who understood she was just a person carrying the weight of everyone's expectations.

And it hit me that during his rebellion, Felassan must have been that person for Solas. While everyone around him is seeming him as Fen'Harel and the Dread Wolf, the fact remains "he wants to give wisdom, not orders." Admist a sea of voices, Felassan calls him "Solas," and Solas needs that. He needs to know someone sees him as a person. And Felassan gets it.

I imagine Solas going to him time and time again. Felassan had to be incredibly important to him. A refuge. Just as Solas was to Lavellan. Whether or not they were intimate in any form is up to personal head canon, but I can't imagine that not being a special relationship that ultimately became difficult to define as "platonic" or "romantic" and falling someplace in between that we don't have a word for.

And isn't that same for Solas's relationship with Mythal? They were close. Whether they were romantically involved or not is hard to define. And ultimately Solas kills both of them and in both instances (I imagine) weeps for what they meant to him.

And then there's this codex:

And I have to wonder if the Dread Wolf persona was Felassan's idea? Something he crafted to fuel Solas's rebellion.

And I can't help but draw parallels between Felassan and Mythal as two people who worked to shape Solas into something he didn't want to be. Yes, Solas agreed to it. Yes, Solas understood the logic and the necessity behind it. But in the end, he just wanted to be Solas. He didn't want to be a weapon. He didn't want to lead an army. And I can't help but think he desperately wanted the two people he loved most in the world to tell him he didn't have to do this when instead it was reinforced. (And yes, Solas agreed to go along with it, but that's not the point.)

Again, I'm not attempting to throw shade at Felassan. I just imagining Solas's inner thoughts, thoughts that I imagine he pushed down and buried for the sake of the greater good. I can't help but wonder as much as he loved Mythal and as much as he loved Felassan that over time some kind of resentment grew - maybe a resentment that he never realized he carried. And part of that played a roll in killing them both (even if the story reason is that he need Mythal's power or thought Felassan had become a turncoat).

I just... I have thoughts. And feelings.

#felassan #mythal #solas meta #my meta #dragon age the veilguard spoilers

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hoboblaidd · 2 months ago

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💤 - How does your muse sleep? Are they a light sleeper, or are they out the moment their head hits the pillow? Do they nap? Do they struggle to sleep due to things like insomnia, or nightmares? ( solas's dreamer process + techniques on a personal level... LET'S HEAR ABT IT! )

ask meme | lowkey headcanon meme

The thing about a Dreamer of his caliber is that he can slip across the Veil without the aid of any potions, etc. He doesn’t need any of that. Solas’ process is just sitting down and deciding to go to sleep. When he wants to, he closes his eyes in Thedas and opens them in the Fade, just as aware. As much as he controls the Fade when he’s in it, he can control when he slips across. I’m pretty damn sure TME has some flavor text from Felassan about That Sort of Dreamer (and the implication becomes that it's Solas, because Solas haunts the narrative of that entire book).

The thing is this: what are dreams in Thedas but increasingly lucid experiences in the Fade? Nightmares and bad dreams are things that just don’t happen for Solas barring a conflict with someone as powerful as Elgar’nan or Mythal. Nightmares might start, but Solas is gonna straighten those out real quick. If it’s a spirit doing it, they’re going to have a stern conversation about how they should really try this shit on someone else. If it’s a person trying to project a nightmare or control his dream - including another Dreamer - it’s going to end poorly for that person. He can control or kill people through their dreams. If they’re both in the Fade? They’re getting mauled by a spectral ratdog.

The Fade is his natural home. He talked the Crossroads into being what it was. Even Elgar’nan can’t touch it or the Lighthouse without some desperate ploy that has failed every time. The Lighthouse itself is an impenetrable refuge that Solas built in the Fade. This is Solas Spirit-Speaker. Even Elgar’nan acknowledges the title. No one but the absolute most powerful can compete with Solas in the Fade (and he outsmarts them anyway, Elgar'nan).

The problem arises not in how he falls asleep, but when he finally stops moving enough to sit/lay down to go to sleep. We’ve seen his idle animations in Veilguard - he’s constantly moving. His painting and his music are necessary relaxation tools because otherwise his mind’s going a mile a minute. Other things that help are boring monotony - listening to Mother Giselle talk, for example.

He is sort of a “light sleeper.” But it’s not the quality of the sleep so much as a heightened awareness in both worlds. As he can control when he sleeps, he can control when he wakes. Solas is someone whose feet are always in both worlds. He’s aware enough, or has spirits keeping watch for him, that he can wake himself up right when he needs to. He was a general for millennia, in both the Titan wars and his rebellion. He also headed Mythal’s household in an empire mired in corruption, power plays, and decadence. He can’t sleep like a log because that could be the difference between life and death.

I do like to think that during Inquisition when the gang had down time and Solas wasn't saying "should we not go to Val Royeaux now, Seeker?" every five minutes, he probably nods off a lot. Against a tree, on a boring horse ride, leaning against whichever companion is to his left while Sidri is trying to figure out how to read a map. Especially early days, when he'd much rather be in the Fade than the "real" world.

#juneforged #headcanons #meme response

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halla-hunts-the-wolf · 7 months ago

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A Talk in the Gardens

One of those aforementioned drabbles circa 2020. Lavellan & Dorian have a sweet chat during their visit to the Sunburst Throne. It can be hard to find a moment of reprieve when the world's about to end, and it's even harder when you're parents to a rambunctious hero in the making.

___

Basking like a cat in the summer sun, Mahvir Lavellan nestles himself in the Grand Cathedral's gardens. Orlais was beautiful this time of year, and he thoroughly enjoys hiding among the teeming wildlife. The flowers threaten to loom over his head, from the overgrown rose bushes to the blooms of crystal grace.

The sweet aroma engulfs his senses and makes him drowsy, it wouldn't be amiss if someone caught him purring, or mumbling about a past life and happier times. An elf was most in his element in nature, even in the confines of towering concrete walls on all sides. To the Dalish elf, the garden reminds him of the home he lost years ago. He was visiting the Sunburst Throne; the entire Inner Circle was. It was one of those rare summits where Divine Victoria allowed all her old friends to gather. The topic of this meeting was, of course, Fen'Harel.

Currently, they were on a recess. Thus, the retired Inquisitor found a refuge where he knew it best.

He forces his closed eyes apart when he hears the rumble of clumsy feet marching toward him.

He was not surprised to see his niece and nephew, Ellana's twins, or his own son leading them into the tulips. A warning rumbled in the back of his throat. The warmth in the air had made him sluggish.

Another voice, dangerously intoxicant in its familiarity, beat him to it.

"Stay clear of the flowers, unless you want to be replanting them!" Dorian's tone, while stern, easily frays with his fondness for the children.

Mahvir turns to greet him with a welcoming smile. "Dorian Pavus braving the outside world? the cathedral must be on fire."

The mage huffs before sinking to sit on the bench beside him. "The children wanted to play and I offered to watch them." His grey eyes followed after the troop of three as they changed course towards the pond a few yards away. "I don't get to see the twins enough. They are a spitting image of their parents."

Mahvir hums in agreement as he scoots closer, resting his head against Dorian's shoulder. "Does it bother you? That Alec doesn't look like us?"

A short laugh tumbles from the Magister as his gaze lingers on the young elf in question. The boy had the most unruly brunette locks and the most vibrant green eyes he'd ever seen. "It only bothers me that I can not claim him by name. I am happy he is a Lavellan, but I wish he could also be a Pavus."

Mahvir seeks out his lover's hand, offering it a reassuring squeeze. "He is a Pavus, and the people who matter are the ones who know it."

"He is my son," Dorian murmurs forcefully. Whether it was to convince himself or the world around them, Mahvir wasn't sure.

"He is, Vehnan, and he'll never doubt it."

Dorian dismisses the conversation with a wave of his free hand. "I suppose you're right, although he is like you in every other way. The way he gives those puppy eyes when he wants something? It's insufferable."

It is Mahvir's turn to laugh, and he does so joyously. "It is only insufferable because you fall for it! And Nellie, Mythal's Mercy, she is just like you. That clever tongue of hers will get her in trouble one day."

"Oh, but that's the best trouble to be in."

"You would know."

They lapse into silence. Comfortable. Peaceful.

Their moment is broken by a chorus of disgruntled shouting in the distance, muffled by towering hedges and reeds. Dorian sighs and pushes himself to his feet. "I suppose that is my cue. I would ask you to come with me, but you seemed to enjoy your nap."

"It's been a while since I've had one."

Dorian moves to step away, but he is caught by arms slinking around his waist. One made of flesh and the other made of metal.

Mahvir pulls him back in, and the embrace is nearly bone-crushing. The elf presses his face against the mage's abdomen, nuzzling against the soft fabric of his robes. He waits as if he is holding the other man hostage, until he feels careful hands brush through his chestnut hair.

"I love you, Dorian." He murmurs as if it was some secret between them.

Dorian takes a step away, releasing himself from the elf's hold, before bending down to take Mahvir's face between his hands, caressing his jaw with the pad of his thumb. They stay this way for a long moment, as the world grows still.

Dorian remains transfixed on his lover's face, from the faint strays of silver in his chestnut hair to the tiredness in his amber eyes. He leans in to kiss the wrinkles (some from worry, but more from laughter) that creased his loving expression. "Rest well, my beloved."

#There's only so much editing I can do without wanting to scrap these old works entirely.#old me was onto something when she made these two old & happy together though #Hey if my Lavellan dies in Veilguard #his imaginary child here will be coming for Solas #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #dorian pavus #Pavellan

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heniareth · 2 years ago

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Inquisitor as a Companion: Banter

MARELAS OF CLAN ELNORA (ORIGINALLY LAVELLAN)

From the template of dextronoms (original here)

Voice:

Marelas tends to speak quietly and gently, with his voice coming either from his chest or his throat. He enunciates clearly and his voice is warm. He can sing very well, but you will never get to hear it; he's too shy for that. Still, there is a rhythm and a tempo to the way he speaks. Sometimes, it sounds a bit like he's performing theater

Cole’s reflection on their thoughts:

Cole: "Cold, ice and darkness, whirling water all around. It pushes, pulls, presses into-"

Marelas: "Cole, please. This is not helping."

Cole: "It's alright. You don't have to fear the water forever. I can help."

Marelas: (gently) "You are speaking out loud, and dragging me back into that moment, Cole. That is not helping. It's quite violent, in fact."

Cole: "I... it is?

Marelas: "I understand that you didn’t mean to. But if you truly want to help someone, speak to them when you two are alone. Offer your help and detail the kind of help you want to give first. Then let them choose if they want to accept it or not. Don't just jump in."

Cole: "That is better?"

Marelas: "For the big hurts, it is. You can keep hiding the daggers of drunk soldiers, though."

Cole: "But the death I'm avoiding there is not a small hurt!"

Marelas: "That's true. But the help that you offer brings only a small hurt. Talking out loud about other people's painful memories and forcing them to accept help is a much bigger hurt than a lost dagger."

Cole: "I... don't know if I understand. But..."

Marelas: "You can feel our distress. You will learn which of the things you do to help cause more or less hurt. Keep an eye on that."

Cole: "Yes... I will."

Comment(s) on Mages:

(entreating) “Inquisitor, look closely. This is no camp. This is a refuge.”

“No food storage, no tents. Magic can make for warmth when the nights are cold, but these conditions are unlivable in even for a mage.”

Comment(s) on Templars:

(very faintly bitter) “They say mages are dangerous. Are they any better?”

(shocked) “They dragged this poor girl all the way here...”

When looking for something:

"What's that? Inquisitor, moment have a look around?"

"I think taking a closer look might get us something interesting."

When finding a campsite:

“This should do. What do you think?”

“It’s getting late. How about setting up camp?”

“My feet would appreciate some rest. Shall we set up camp?”

"If we make camp now, I might be able to finish that translation I was working on."

When the Inquisitor Falls:

“Inquisitor! Hold on!”

“Cover the Inquisitor!"

If he is friends with a non-elvhen Inquisitor:

"Stay with us, my friend!"

If he is friends with an elvhen Inquisitor:

"Rem syla, lethallin/lethallan!" (Hold on to life, my friend)

If he is in a romance with the Inquisitor:

"Ma vhenan! No!"

(frantic) "Stay awake! Stay awake!"

When they are low on health:

"I need help!"

(groaned) "Mythal las'halani." (Mythal, grant [me] help)

(whimper) "Falon'Din ulielas'el." (Falon'Din, have mercy)

(weak, disjointed) "Falon'Din, Lethanavir..." (beginning of a prayer for the dead to Falon'Din. The full translated prayer can be found here)

When they see a Dragon:

(quietly, in awe) "Mythal ulielas'el!"

"The dragons are just coming back, do we really have to... of course we have to."

When during their small side quest:

"Do we have a moment to take a closer look at this?"

(in quiet awe) "Look at these colors! The symbology! Just one minute, please!"

"I'm so close to figuring out the meaning of these symbols, I just need one more quick look."

Default saying (when you want to talk to them in Skyhold, how do they respond?):

"Hello, Inquisitor."

"Anything I can help with?"

"How are things going?"

"Inquisitor! How are you?"

If the Inquisitor is an elf:

"Aneth ara, amae'len." (Hello, fellow elf [one-who-i-recognize]. It's not a cheeky thing, it's just that lethallin/lethallan/lethallen seems to be reserved for friends and I wanted something similar but more geared towards acquanitances of coworkers)

When greeting a low-approval Inquisitor:

"One moment, please."

(polite, formal) "To what do I owe this visit?"

(hesitant) "I'm afraid I'm a bit busy..."

(undercurrent of fear or annoyance) "Something the matter?"

When greeting a friend:

"Hello, my friend."

(genuine) "It's good to see you."

(happy) "You found time to come by! How good."

If the Inquisitor is an elf:

(warmly) "Creators watch your path, lethallin/lethallan/lethallen."

If he is in a romance with the Inquisitor:

(softly) "Nehn'alas, ma vhenan." (You bring joy, my heart)

(happy) "Ma'latha. I missed you."

(cheeky) "Looking for me, vhenan?"

Travel Banter with Canon Companions of your choice:

Marelas: "Cassandra, I had a... well, actually, nevermind."

Cassandra: "What is it?"

Marelas: "I had a question, but I realize it's... highly likely to be insensitive. Apologies."

Cassandra: "I'm in a good mood. What was it about?"

Marelas: "Well... You believe the Maker has abandoned this world, yes?"

Cassandra: "You wish to know how we believe in an absent god? I thought your gods were absent as well."

Marelas: "They were banished. There is a difference between being forced to leave and leaving voluntarily."

Cassandra: "That we can agree on. But it's not true that the Maker abandoned us entirely. He still hears our prayers. He may grant you His favor."

Marelas: "You, individually?"

Cassandra: "Yes, like He did with Andraste, speaking in very general terms. Do your gods not prefer some individuals over others?"

Marelas: (Brief pause) "Individuals may prefer or fear one of the Creators over the other. But the Creators as a whole guide the People as a whole, as well as the individual people who make them up."

Cassandra: "And what if two elves are opposed to one another? Or two factions of your people?"

Marelas: (not quite sure where this is going) "Then one is in the wrong and one is in the right, although those two usually tend to blend and mix."

Cassandra: "Your Creators do not choose sides and show one greater favor?"

Marelas: "That depends what either side is fighting for."

Cassandra: "But one was right and one was wrong!"

Marelas: "As I said, those two tend to blend very heavily. And to state that the Creators are interested in right or wrong is not entirely true. It is... more complicated than that."

Friendship?: (what they call the PC if they are friends or the dialog)

"When I first arrived in Haven I had little hopes of finding a friendly face in the Inquisition. Thank you for taking me in. Thank you for trusting me. I am honored to call you my friend."

Leaving the Inquisition (what do they say or do if the approval is low enough for them to leave?):

Before they leave, Marelas will confront the Inquisitor, express his wish to leave and ask them if they will allow him to take his notes with him. Depending on the direction the conversation takes, there are several possible outcomes:

1) The Inquisitor doesn’t allow Marelas to take his research notes and convinces him to stay to keep an eye on how they are used. Marelas agrees, albeit reluctantly.

2) The Inquisitor allows Marelas to leave with his research notes. They part on more or less amiable terms.

3) The Inquisitor doesn’t allow Marelas to leave with his research OR doesn’t allow Marelas to leave at all. In this case, Marelas waits until the Inquisitor leaves, then packs as much of his research as he can carry and makes a run for it. The Inquisitor decides if they let him go or try to follow him. If they try to follow him, they will enter combat. The Inquisitor will defeat Marelas, and will have the opportunity to submit him to judgement. As a result of the judgement, the Inquisitor may a) execute him, b) imprison him, c) make him tranquil and have him work for the Inquisition or d) release him without his research notes.

If Marelas is executed or made tranquil, Hawen’s clan in the Exalted Plains disappears and the Inquisitor is unable to access Din’an Hanin if the area has remained unexplored.

If Marelas has been imprisoned, his Keeper will ask the Inquisitor to release Marelas to them in a war table mission. Josephine suggests asking the Dalish for something of value in return. Leliana advises to keep Marelas as leverage. Cullen argues that entering a potential conflict with the Dalish over one elf is not worth their time or resources and suggests to return Marelas without further conditions. Taking Josephine's route will garner the Inquisition a new and unique rune. Clan Elnora's Keeper states: "We value our knowledge, but one of the People will always take precedent. I trust this sharing of knowledge will keep our relationship amiable." This route will, however, also incur in a loss of approval with Haven's clan. The rewards for Cullen's route are the same as the one for Josephine's, but without the drawbacks. If Leliana's option is taken, a small group of Dalish elves will infiltrate Skyhold to try and free Marelas, and manage to escape with him. Clan Elnora denies any knowledge of the plan and Leliana's spies confirm that the group wasn't traveling back to clan Elnora. Leliana suspects this may be a smoke screen, but without further proof, the Inquisition's hands are tied.

If Marelas is made tranquil, a similar war table mission will be available. Josephine and Leliana will counsel the same approach. Cullen however will deem it too dangerous to give a Dalish clan access to a powerful enchanter and suggest placing Marelas under watch. If Josephine's route is chosen, the Inquisitor receives a powerful mage armor. The clan had made it for Marelas, to take on when he returned, but now he will never get to wear it. If Leliana's or Cullen's options are taken, a small group of Dalish elves tries to free Marelas, but fails. Both Marelas and the would-be liberators die in the ensuing scuffle.

#marelas lavellan #dai #dragon age #inquisitor as companion

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starwrittenfates · 24 hours ago

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VERSE ;; The Spirit of Hope (Ancient Arlathan)

☆ 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ☆

𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙴 𝙸𝙽𝙵𝙾:

Originally a Spirit of Hope, Ethyral was called forth by Mythal to take on a body and be her chosen "sister", helping her and others by inspiring them with hope for a better future. Because of this, Ethyral was among one of the first of the elves, also calling Elgar'nan "brother". Not long after, Mythal soon called on a Spirit of Wisdom to take physical form and serve her with his wisdom. This was when Ethyral met Solas along with the rest of their kind.

Taking on physical bodies by using raw lyrium to craft them angered the Titans and began a war with them. While the elves were losing the Titan war, Mythal had Solas craft a Lyrium dagger, which helped them win the war. Once it was over, Elgar'nan refused to give up his command as he promised. Elgar'nan argued the elven people needed stern leadership and his strength for protection. Mythal agreed with Elgar'nan, believing the elves needed inspiring figures to unite them, quell their fears, and to guide them with wisdom. The respected generals and elders that consisted the Evanuris followed Elgar'nan and Mythal's examples and proclaimed themselves the gods of the elves. When Ethyral was offered the same position by her sister, with Mythal even granting her the title "Goddess of Spirit" because of her abilities to inspire others, Ethyral surprised everyone by rejecting it and choosing to stand beside Solas instead, reusing to follow suit and saying there was no hope here, but with Solas, there was a chance at it.

Once Solas started his rebellion and became known as Fen'Harel by the Evanuris, Ethyral offered her help. She became a healer and soldier for the rebellion, helping to heal and inspire the spirits of both soldiers and freed slaves while fighting to help free them. She worked alongside Spirit's who also helped her with her work. The rebellion lasted for centuries.

Despite both sisters feeling betrayed by one another for their chosen paths, Ethyral and Mythal still remained on speaking terms at times, with Ethyral coming to dislike Elgar'nan and fearing that his temper may lead her sister to danger someday. Ethyral began to notice the toll the war was taking on everyone, even Solas, who had started willingly sacrificing his agents in order to win the war.

When the Evanuris started to seek the magic of the blight, Ethyral and Solas went to Mythal for help, both of them always thinking they could eventually convince her to step down and join them. But when Solas informed her that the wards sealing the Blight were weakening and asked her to leave the Evanuris, Mythal refused again and told him that she would go to the rest of the Evanuris and remind them of the danger of using the Blight. However, the Evanuris did not heed Mythal’s warning, and instead murdered her.

With this, Ethyral fell into a state of despair, with Elgar'nan mockingly granting her the only title and thing she might be remembered by "Goddess of Grief" and spent time wandering the Crossroads, visiting the place of refuge that was made for Mythal if she ever decided to join the rebellion. A fragment of her sister Solas had managed to recover from the dagger was placed there before he decided to seal the place off out of grief. Due to Mythal's murder and the belief that the Evanuris' use of Blight magic would destroy the entire world if left unchecked, pushed Solas to create the Veil to separate the physical world from the world of spirits, locking both the Evanuris and the Blight at the heart of this new realm and using their life force to sustain their prison. However, doing so inadvertently robbed the elves of their immortality and much of their magic, leading to the collapse of the elven empire. Creating the Veil weakened Solas so considerably that he slumbered for millennia afterwards.

However, Ethyral didn't know what Solas had done or where he had disappeared to. She only watched as the world of Arlathan and the empire they once tried to fight against fell from the sky and was destroyed once and for all, with none of the Evanuris to be found, including Solas. Deciding to no longer let her grief consume her and turn her into something else, Ethyral used her orb (which holds powers of rebirth), to be born into a new body and a new life, knowing her best chance at hope now is to restart again with a second chance, eventually being reborn as Ellana of Clan Lavellan.

Over the centuries there are no surviving texts or lore of Ethyral, but if there are any, it is often of her story being misconstrued over the ages, becoming an omen of grief and despair by the Dalish and something to be weary of just as they are of Fen'Harel.

𝚂𝙴𝚃𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶: Taking place in Ancient Arlathan for Dragon Age.

𝙴𝚇𝚃𝚁𝙰: This is Ellana's Ancient Arlathan verse for her past life as Ethyral. Flexible and Adaptable to fit with writing partners. Just IM me. Feel free to message me if you wanna talk it out. Read more on Ellana and Ethyral: HERE

#starwrittenfates verses #𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘 ⟫ Reincarnated Hope (𝐋𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍)#// this has been a plot bunny for 10 years now that only came to life more thanks to Veilguard XD

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