#Tevinter Nights spoilers

[mrs-gauche]

The Dread Wolf Take You (Part 1)

~~Link to the complete 31 page comic here~~

"Imagine that, overlooking the god in your mids!"

May I present, my attempt at illustrating the last four pages of Tevinter Nights. 😁 (Also, the first time I'm posting art on here!)

As the whole thing was quite literally too long to post on tumblr, I uploaded the full version on a customized site made for reading webcomics (via ComicFury). Feel free to check out the link above if you like to read the rest! Also, if you're on mobile, there's a "Scroll View" option for easier navigation. :)

And, obviously, HUGE spoilers for those who haven't read Tevinter Nights!!

On a personal note though, I can't believe I actually finished it... As it had been a *very* long time since I drew (and finished) anything, let alone a 31 page comic and reading Tevinter Nights again finally sparked my motivation (and the courage to post it lol). So I want to thank Patrick Weekes for helping me overcome this massive art block and over two decades of Case Closed mangas for inspiring me how to draw an overly dramatic "exposing the imposter" moment. 😂 I tried my best to be as faithful to the book as possible and it took me forever, so... hope you like it! :D

[maharellasa]

SOLAS in Dragon Age: Inquisition ↳ dev. Bioware

An elf, bald—the golden locks had been part of the mask. An oval face with full lips, and a tiny scar on his brow. Pointed ears, previously hidded under the mask and wig.

[wearetheunholyfamily]

Lucanis Dellamorte, probably

[nerdanel01]

i’m sorry wait that Michael Gamble tweet about the Solas’ hideout being covered in his paintings is so fucking funny when you remember that canonically, he was sooooo sad when he was painting in the rotunda that a literal demon of regret manifested in the fresco and a mercenary group had to be dispatched specifically to kill it because it was murdering Skyhold’s caretakers

like. what were you painting this time, beloved? there’s no chance he was LESS sad, right? are all the paintings going to end up possessed and ripping themselves off the walls to try to stop us from getting to the ritual site?

[rin-hanarin]

It only took me fifty years (two months) to read Eight Little Talons, and boy is Antivan Crows' drama fascinating.

Everyone's scared shitless of Caterina Dellamorte and her legendary cane, by extension everyone is scared shitless of Lucanis, who's apparently such an asset that he can assasinate any other Crow or Talon if Caterina asks him;

House Arainai is struggling, and they didn't mention mention the extent of Zevran's exploits because it's not always canon, but he totally fucked up the Crows as a whole beyond just "failing to kill the Hero of Ferelden", I'm so proud of him, and I hope and pray to everything that we'll somehow meet him in Veilguard. Maker, if you're out there 👆

Teia and Viago are extremely horny for each other, and seeing them in the Veilguard release date trailer is like... yeah, no shit, good for them, can't wait to hear their sexy ass accents in the game;

Also I love how Crows are everything we've heard about Antivans up until this point, they're such assassins about everything that they didn't even need another Qunari invasion to have insane levels of interwoven professional and personal melodrama, these people were ready to knife each other without a murder mystery going on lmao

Anyway, my weak Crow loving soul is happy, can't wait to make one of my own and have him have Opinions.

[nokdunal]

same origins, different endings

[weavewithshadow]

Were those just theories in the Titan/ Lyrium War post?! I need to know all the things!!

Half theories! I've seen a few codices that I've been thinking on for a long time. So here's my reason behind why I used the tags I did on that post.

This is very, very long. But it's the best collection I can cobble together of all the reasons I think these things.

Beware: HORROR OF HORMAK story spoilers at the bottom of this post!

"Mythal and Elgar'nan are both cited as mining/carving slain titans for their lyrium."

In the light of the veilfire, the runes seem to shift, coiling and uncoiling like snakes. A thunderous voice shatters the stillness, shouting: "Hail Mythal, adjudicator and savior! She has struck down the pillars of the earth and rendered their demesne unto the People! Praise her name forever!" For a moment, the scent of blood fills the air, and there is a vivid image of green vines growing and enveloping a sphere of fire. The vision grows dark. An aeon seems to pass. Then the runes crackle, as if filled with an angry energy. A new vision appears: elves collapsing caverns, sealing the Deep Roads with stone and magic. Terror, heart-pounding, ice-cold, as the last of the spells is cast. A voice whispers: "What the Evanuris in their greed could unleash would end us all. Let this place be forgotten. Let no one wake its anger. The People must rise before their false gods destroy them all."

The Titans are referred to as "the pillars of the earth" often enough that it's made it onto the Dragon Age wiki. Mythal slew at least one Titan and then gave that Titan's demesme (lands or domain) to the People (the ancient elves). The ending text of this codex makes it sound like this was later something regretted, if not by Mythal, then by the other elves of the time.

You can also see PLENTY of Mythal statues in the Deep Roads, particularly during Trespasser — curiously, with wolves always guarding the doors.

Ghilan'nain's statues feature almost as prominently in these places.

The pages of this book—memory?—describe a monument made in a single afternoon by a thousand-thousand toiling servants swarming over a lump of fallen stone as large as a collapsed mountain. By the end of the day, the stern figure of Elgar'nan stares down into a valley, carved out from the foothills of the rock. The slaves have disappeared. Light radiates from the eidolon's narrowed eyes and its open, snarling mouth. "Hail Elgar'nan, first among the gods! Mark his victory eternal!"

I take this to mean Titans/lyrium because of how widespread it is that Elgar'nan threw the sun into the earth and then brought it back out. In ancient elvhen, the words for sun (elgara) and spirit (elgar) are almost the exact same. This could mean bringing spirits (or bringing spirits against their will) into the Earth (the Titans' domain).

"It is very possible the evanuris made their own bodies out of lyrium."

This one is more theorycrafting than anything, and I'll direct you to this video where a lot of things started clicking into place for me.

But I want to add this codex to the discussion as well.

Many of these pages are filled with sketches of elven statues matching the ones found in the area, along with notes and what look like attempts to practice Qunlat: Trying to remember that old bedtime song about Mythal. My mother sang it the night before the darkspawn came for my clan. It's the last time I ever heard her voice. Ir sa tel'nal, Mythal las ma theneras. Ir san'a emma. Him solas evanuris. Da'durgen'lin, Banal malas elgara. Bellanaris, bellanaris.

Now, for the purposes of this discussion, we're going to ignore the provided translation, because we know that translation is wrong in a few spots. From my best understanding, this is as close as I can translate it.

I am [one] [not/never] [nal], Mythal grants [you/me] dreams, I [am/was] [here] [within], [Becomes/Became] Solas evanuris. Little stone [boy], Nothing [given/granted] to [the sun], Forever, forever.

Everything [in brackets] is an educated guess, the best as I can make it.

If I've gotten the translation close to right, this describes Solas, a spirit that is called to take the shape of a "little stone boy," becoming one of the Evanuris at Mythal's behest.

"They made unliving champions with no need to breathe to fight on their behalf."

A codex entry!

The pages of this book—memory?—show a narrow plateau on top of a mountain, Two armored figures—one in gold, one in black—are fighting in the snow. Steel flickers so fast the air hums. Blood dots the ground. They do not stop for breath. The one in black makes no sound as a blade parts his throat. "Mythal, in her wisdom, interceded in an argument between Elgar'nan and Falon'Din. With clever words, she convinced them to settle their grievance through a battle of their champions. Elgar'nan and Falon'Din agreed, and set their champions against each other rather than declare war among the gods. May those knights long be remembered, and Mythal's wisdom be praised."

Worth noting, this codex is titled "Duel of a Hundred Years."

These things aren't human! They bleed, but don't breathe. They never stop fighting. This duel lasts 100 years.

"Ghilan'nain's lab is fueled by lyrium that causes those awful mutations."

I don't have screencaps to pull quotes from, but it's yellow-green lyrium at the center of the part of Ghilan'nain's lab in Horror of Hormak that monsters are coming out of, and this lyrium is what's exploded to destroy the lab and all its creatures.

Honorable Mentions:

• Andruil's entire story with her trips to the Void make me think of the abyss being the deep underground (and the endless sky very deep underground), and Mythal sapping Andruil's strength and storing her memories makes me think of lyrium.

• Solas talking about Falon'din in the Temple of Mythal makes me think that amassing more worshippers may well have meant creating them from Mythal's lyrium stores.

INQUISITOR: Do you know any legends? SOLAS: It is said Falon’Din’s appetite for adulation was so great, he began wars to amass more worshippers. The blood of those who wouldn’t bow low filled lakes as wide as oceans. Mythal rallied the gods, once the shadow of Falon’Din’s hunger stretched across her own people. It was almost too late. Falon’Din only surrendered when his brethren bloodied him in his own temple. INQUISITOR: Did ancient elves believe all their gods so terrifying? SOLAS: Yes. I believe they did.

SO YEAH!! Lyrium war! Lyrium war, I say!!! It's on my Veilguard bingo card for sure—either as an explanation of what came before, something that will begin in Veilguard, or both.

[buttsonthebeach]

Anywhere But Home

Back to writing Solavellan angst and it feels so goooood

Pairing: Ellana Lavellan x Solas (past); Marian Hawke x Merrill (past)

Rating: M for Mature - sexual themes and images

Triggers and Spoilers: Hawke is lost in the Fade; spoilers for Tevinter Nights

Summary: Nine years post-Trespasser, Ellana tries her best to move on.

His name was Varlan and Ellana hadn't seen him since the summer before she became Inquisitor, and when she slept with him, what she was really doing was slipping into an old self to see if it still fit, like the person she had been that summer was an old pair of trousers in the back of a drawer. She'd just forgotten about her. She could try her on again.

He wasn't an Inquisition agent - because of course she couldn't even dream of sleeping with any of them. And he wasn't some hero worshipper fascinated with the myth of her - because every one of them that had approached her since she became Inquisitor made her skin crawl. He wasn't a nobleman whose aims and ends she couldn't trust.

He was just Varlan of Clan Alvar, and they happened to be at the same inn, each passing through on their way to somewhere else. Her to Kirkwall. Him back to his clan.

“Ellana?”

And it was probably the fact that he said her name. It startled her at first - she was tying up her horse at the hitching post and he was just passing by, her hood was still mostly up, she was traveling alone, she was so used to being called Inquisitor or my lady. But then she saw him, recognized him, and it felt good. Just Ellana.

Clan Lavellan and Clan Alvar were close, both Marcher clans that overlapped in their roaming a few times each year, making him one of those people she couldn't actually remember meeting for the first time. He'd just been there. They'd slept together twice before, the last time being that summer before she left for the Conclave, twelve years ago now. So she could know, after passing a flask of whiskey back once or twice while reminiscing about old times in the room she let, that he really wanted to sleep with her for old time's sake and nothing more. She didn't take him up there with that intention - not really - but when it happened, she wasn't sorry.

Dorian had been after her about it anyway. Leliana, too. Gentle at first as the years went on and then more direct, he can't have been that good of a lay morphing into it's been 5 years and you deserve happiness, you know. Ellana, don't you think it's time to…? Maybe this would appease them.

And the first kiss did take her breath away. Not because she was in love with Varlan but because it had been nine years now since someone kissed her. His skin on her skin was exhilarating and too much - she kept her shirt on the whole time, and so did he. And gods it did feel good, it did, the weight of him -

“I'm clean,” he murmured. “If you wanted to…?”

“Me too,” she said, and it hurt even though it shouldn't. She knew she was clean because it had been eleven years since she lay with anyone. “I do.”

“Do you take a brew or should I…?”

That question hurt the worst somehow. She had just turned 39. And there was a part of her that wanted to lie, to not take her brew after he left (because he would leave), because she was getting older, and maybe this was her last chance -

“I do, but maybe to be extra safe…?”

“Of course.”

And gods it was good to feel him move in her, it was familiar, the roll of her hips and the delicious tension in her muscles and yes, it was her first time doing this since the loss of her left arm, but she could almost ignore that. Could almost pretend it was summer, an open field, stars above, and she was just herself. She'd go back to the circle of aravels after this. Restring her bow. Breathe in the woodsmoke. Hunt in the morning.

“I'm glad the gods brought us back together,” he said before he left. “And that they have kept you safe.”

She was sure he didn't intend the words to be cruel. But Halamshiral’s hallways echoed in her mind all the time now, and instantly she analyzed it. He did not ask about the vallaslin. She considered it a blessing. Perhaps he knew? Word had spread through the clans. But he still believed in the gods, still thought they kept her safe. So he knew and still believed?

Why was he conveniently at the same inn as her, at the same time, why had the conversation gone so easily, why had they slipped so easily into old familiar ways?

She banished the thoughts. It was fine. This was fine. She had moved on. She could move on. She carried on to Kirkwall, got settled in to her estate, had dinner with Merrill. Tried to stay in the same skin she'd found briefly with Varlan. Back to Ellana, just Ellana.

“About time!” Dorian said when she called. “Now, perhaps Mae and I can start finding someone eligible for you here in Tevinter. Make me a list and you know we'll make it so. I already have a house picked out for you in the countryside near my villa.”

His words were so bright and so brittle they might snap if he forced himself to be any cheerier. Ellana let out a dry laugh, tried to come up with a witty reply, and found her throat closed. What did she want?

“So I can't just move in alone? Varric gave me a whole house and a key to his city without insisting I have a partner.”

The crystal crackled. She thought maybe she heard a sigh.

“Of course not. Shall I send you the contract? Right after I get this bill passed about elves being able to own property of course.”

“Ah yes, that pesky little thing. Tell me how that's been going.”

“Oh, my friend,” Merrill said that night when Ellana recounted the conversation. How she had not even been able to make a list of what she might want in a future partner. “I don't think I could, either.”

Because Merrill had spent the last eleven years waiting and longing, too.

But Ellana kept trying. What would she want? She looked around Merrill’s table whenever there was a group for dinner. Most of her friends were elves from Kirkwall's alienage. Ellana had always envisioned herself with a fellow elf - but that was when she was young and living with her clan, so of course she assumed she'd bond to someone Dalish. Did that have to be true now? She'd always been with men. Did that have to be true now?

She tried to feel a sense of wonder and possibility. She was arguably the most privileged elf in Thedas, with money, power, and connections in every country. She could envision whatever life she wanted for herself.

The sense of wonder never came.

But Charter did. Back from a teahouse in Hunter Fell, after months of searching and gathering information and coordinating a meeting between spies of every conceivable faction.

“I have news of the idol,” she said. “If you wanted to go get Mistress Hawke.”

She and Merrill both perched, tense, through Charter's tale. It confirmed much of what they had suspected. It was back in the Dread Wolf's hands. That was how Charter referred to him the whole time. Merrill interjected occasionally and called him Fen'Harel. Ellana pretended it was all a story.

“One figure comforting another,” Merrill murmured. “Mythal comforting Fen'Harel himself, if his tales of being her right hand are to be believed? I am more certain now than ever that it was a tool of Arlathan that was blighted, like my eluvian. Perhaps related like the arulin'holm, something used in rituals of creation, lyrium stored directly within to power the spells? One of the implements he used to create the Veil? I never laid hands on it myself. I didn't go into the Deep Roads with Marian, and the fight with Meredith - it was not my focus. I wish I'd had time to see it, study it…”

“That window has certainly closed,” Charter said, shifting her weight, settling into a stance, like she was expecting a blow. “Solas assured me of that.”

Ellana stood.

“He what?”

And then Charter told the end of the tale. The moment she realized the Orlesian bard was not Orlesian at all. How only she and Solas walked out of that room.

The untouched tea.

Her mind circled that detail over and over again until she could smell the fresh plaster in the rotunda, hear the caws of Leliana's ravens, feel the warmth of a hand on her back -

“So he still doesn't like tea?” She finally managed, when she realized Merrill and Charter were staring.

“No, my lady,” Charter said, lowering her eyes.

Ellana hated Charter suddenly. She'd been in the room with Solas. Close enough to touch. She'd heard his voice. Did he look well? Did he look tired? Did he -

“And - Inquisitor, he told me to tell you - that he is sorry.”

It was meant to be a mercy but it felt like a deathblow. Like bleeding out, lungs collapsing, praying there was a healer nearby, eyesight fading.

“Thank you, Charter. That will be all for tonight.”

He is sorry?

“Lethallan,” Merrill said, and let the word hang in the air.

“It’s fine, Merill. You should go.”

“Lethallan.”

He is sorry?

She couldn't talk about this with Merrill. Couldn't ask the woman whose wife she’d left to die to comfort her because the man who willingly left her had sent her a message via a spy, and it was that he was sorry, but he was still going to rip the world asunder.

“Tomorrow. Let's hike to the summit of Sundermount.” The words came from someone else who happened to have Ellana's own voice.

Merrill left. Ellana sat down. She took a breath, then another. She closed her eyes.

He is sorry.

And suddenly, he was in the room with her: Solas Solas Solas Solas. So close she could touch him. She could see him, the sadness in his eyes, hear the hitch in his quiet voice.

Tell the Inquisitor - I am sorry.

Varlan had been on top of her, in her, fingers in her hair, and he was not as real to her then as that image of Solas was now. As she sat there, choking on the unfairness of his words.

He was sorry, but he was still gone. And she was never going to be the same again without him. All the Varlans in the world couldn't change that. All it would take was one word, one dream, to bring her back to the way he looked at her, the way he shook his head, kissed her again. To come, while the music plays, dance with me.

Ellana went to bed and allowed herself to imagine that Solas was down the hall, painting. That she had called for him already, sleepily, that he said he'd be there in a moment. That right when she was on the edge of sleep, he slid into bed, threaded an arm around her waist, and kissed her. He would be warm, solid, large behind her, but he would melt into her too, lean his weight against her - each of them leaning on each other, sheltering each other. And as she imagined it, she felt it - wonder. Bright as midday sun.

She woke alone, flecks of red in her smalls warning her that soon another chance would be gone (even though Varlan had pulled out and she had taken her brew because she knew, knew she couldn't be a mother now, not now, not without him). She went downstairs, saw the letters that had arrived overnight, all addressed to the Herald and the Inquisitor. The final reminder that, Solas or no, there was no way back to that summer field twelve years ago. The world had destroyed Ellana Lavellan and raised up something else instead. Harding said it in the Frostback Basin. Once you are more than a person to someone, you're also less than a person to them. So there was only forward. Deep breath in, out again. Just keep going.

Merrill was already at her door, bags packed, ready for the long day. Smiling even though her eyes were sad. The path up Sundermount felt longer, Ellana's footsteps heavier than usual. She could go anywhere she wanted but home, could have her choice of lovers but not the man she loved. Everyone knew her name but she hardly knew herself anymore, some days.

But then they were at the summit, looking out over Kirkwall and the sea, and if her footsteps didn't feel any lighter, she at least felt equal to their weight again.

“Varric will want to know about the idol,” Merrill said at last.

“Yes. I'll go see him tomorrow. I think he'll be even more involved now that we know for sure Solas has it. It will be even more personal.”

“You are his friend. It has been personal from the beginning.”

Ellana sighed. There were ships out on the sea. What if Solas was on one of them?

“I wish it was only about duty. Only about serving Thedas. For all of us.”

“Would you really wish that you had never met Solas? Never loved him?”

I felt the world change.

“No.”

“It's a good thing he is sorry. That means there is hope.”

A bitter laugh rose in Ellana's throat but she swallowed it down. Hope was a meager thing to live on, year in and year out. But Merrill knew that better than anyone.

“Yes. There is hope.”

They sat up there, breathing hope in and out together, and then they carried it back with them to Kirkwall.

[bossuary]

possible Myrna and Audric????

bonus skellingtom:

[pupkinpumpkin]

Bro at the beginning I was fully on romancing Harding, but the more and more I learn about Lucanis, the more I want to romance him.

He's a mage killer?

He has terrible social skills?

He lives in A PANTRY?

He likes COFFEE?

He has a shitton of KNIVES in his coat at all times?

He may be POSSESSED?

He didn't have a beard at first in Wigmaker but makes the offhand joke that if Venatori start to recognize his face he'll just grow one?

AND THEN HE FUCKING DOES?

I'm so pathetic guys

[rooklaidir]

I finished Tevinter Nights

SoLAS lmfaoooo what were you DOING? "Ah yea I couldn't take the brew tbh just kinda earwigging to see what you're saying bout me does the Inquisitor miss meeee?"

[dungeons-and-dragon-age]

what are the logistics of Audric The Spirit being allowed to stay though? the body is still decaying, right? do they preserve him? do they let him decay and walk around as a skeleton Manfred Style?

[bestsaltinalltheshire]

“He was the kind of man you couldn’t look away from — until he looked at you.”

[rat-spit-village]

the best tevinter nights moment is the one where charter enters a room full of shady individuals to discuss the machinations of the dread wolf and immediately clocks that solas is there in disguise after he flips his hair clumsily and she knows there's no way in hell he's done that before a day in his life

[fatale-distraction]

Okay all your wip titles intrigue me and I had to roll a die for this. What is Solas in Drag 2? A sequel to something? I'm burning with curiousity.

It is a sequel to The Lady in Black! The first installment was inspired by Solas’ silly Orlesian bard disguise in Tevinter Nights, @mrs-gauche ‘s excellent comic portraying that scene, and my own long-held secret desire to stick Solas in drag and make him fuck the Inquisitor.

Here is a scene from the sequel, in which my Lavellan’s sister blackmails the Dread Wolf into flirting with her fiance, Cullen, as a prank. She promises him that she won’t tell anyone he’s there if he does this for her amusement.

”Well, Commander,” the mysterious woman purred, stroking her palm down his cheek and brushing her thumb over his bottom lip. “You just let me know if there’s anything at all I can help you with. I’d be happy to provide anything that would help to further your cause.”

To Cullen’s bafflement, horror, and uncomfortable arousal, she then pressed her lips to his with sensuous grace. Her tongue slipped over his bottom lip and she sucked at it, grazing her teeth over it as she pulled away with a noisy, wet pop.

Across the room, Josephine dropped and shattered a glass. Cullen gaped after the mysterious woman. Behind a pillar, Evelyn wheezed, hand clapped over her mouth tightly to muffle hysteric laughter.

Solas sauntered back to the convulsing woman and crossed his arms. “Satisfied?” He asked in his regular voice.

”Oh, bravo,” gasped Evelyn, clapping. “Bravo! Encore!”

”There shall be no encore,” he stated dryly. “May I go about my business now?”

”Fine,” Evelyn wiped a tear from her eye. “Go do whatever nefarious, Dread Woof-y deeds you have planned this evening. I won’t tell anyone you’re here.”

”Hey, El, your stupid boyfriend is here.”

Ellana glanced over her shoulder at Evelyn and swallowed the mouthful of bubbly champagne that threatened to burst her cheeks. “I don’t have a stupid boyfriend,” she said.

”Your stupid ex-boyfriend is here.”

”Solas is here?”

In the first one, Solas is pretty well covered up, so I set this one at a ball in Orlais and used this dress for inspiration, because I wanted him in a slutty backless dress:

Dior, 1989