#aisling lavellan

[greypetrel]

Made my steps towards the shore She sang her love at me 🌙🌊

Kiss Art February, day 3. Super quick sketch as a wind down with my sappy comfort zone. Tried one last time the Artemus pencil brush, they're really good for texture but they're really not my cup of tea. I love the pose and the painting (Ondine by Irma Martin) and I'll probably draw this again.

[shivunin]

The Ballad of Chocolate Pudding

For @ockissweek Day 1, I have borrowed the lovely @greypetrel's Aisling. Thank you for lending me your gal! This year, I decided to dig into the archives (that fantastic comic you made of Aisling coming back to Skyhold with Chocolate Pudding) and elaborate on how Aisling came to adopt a baby bear. c:

(Tabris & Lavellan | 1,268 Words | No Warnings)

“I think she’s perfect,” the Inquisitor gushed, hands clasped under her chin. 

She and Tabris leaned over a fence at Vigil’s Keep in relative quiet. It was a nice change of pace for Arianwen, who was used to visiting emissaries talking about stupid trivialities instead of anything that actually mattered. A fellow animal lover had been a welcome change of pace and that opinion had only been bolstered each time Lavellan had come to visit. 

In the field before them, a large black bear loped back toward the woods, coat gleaming in the sunlight. Honey was well-fed and pampered—or as pampered as a half-wild bear could be, anyway. Wen was as proud of her as she would’ve been her own child, had she ever chosen to have one. 

“She has cubs,” Wen offered after a moment’s consideration. “I can show you, if you want to see.”

“Really?” Aisling asked, eyes shining in the sunlight. “But won’t she be very angry?” 

“Eh,” Arianwen shrugged. “She won’t mind, long as I’m there.”

In truth, an idea was beginning to form in her mind, but she suspected it would go over better if she’d tempted the Inquisitor with a peek at what she intended before she made the request. 

In short order, the two of them were following after Honey, long grass tangling around their ankles. The Inquisitor talked a great deal, which was usually something that would bother Wen. They were both fortunate that the topic of conversation was horses, something she’d intended to learn more about in any case, and so the Warden was content. 

“—can find out so much from their droppings, really,” the Inquisitor said earnestly, gesturing. “People underestimate it, but it’s true.”

“I believe it,” Wen agreed, gesturing for Aisling to follow her when they reached the woods. “You said something about foals?”

“Able to walk almost right away, and so well!” Aisling said, ducking under a branch Wen held back for her. “I helped with one birth a few weeks ago and you wouldn’t believe…”

Wen listened to her all the way to Honey’s den, reflecting that it was rather pleasant, actually, to listen to someone talk about things she cared about without having to answer. They could have passed hours like that, Wen leading Aisling deeper into the cool, birdsong-filled forest, but they arrived at their destination far too soon for that. 

The glade before them ended in a small cave, its low roof extending into a dark hollow too deep to see the end of. Honey lay before it now, two cubs clambering over her sleeping form. After a moment, her great eye opened, assessed the two of them, and closed again. Wen greeted her quietly, full of affection for the silly creature, and listened as her visitor exclaimed over the babies. 

“But what about this one?” Aisling asked after a moment, moving closer to a third, smaller cub who’d been tucked off to the side. He had not been rolling about with his brother or sister. Instead, the little brown cub made a sad mewling noise and wobbled toward them one tiny paw at a time.

“Rejected,” Wen said quietly. 

She’d had hopes that Honey would reconsider, that things might have changed the next time she’d made it up here, but…well. Trained to fight or not, the bear was still a wild animal. Wen could no more control her than she could control the birds in the trees. 

“She won’t take care of him?” Aisling asked, holding a hand out to the little creature. He bumbled forward, rolling onto his side twice before he made it to her palm. Carefully, she smoothed her hand over the thick fur. The cub nuzzled into her hand, closing his little eyes.

“No,” Wen said, and ran light fingertips over the little bear’s back. “He’s the runt.”

“But what will happen to him?” Aisling asked, gingerly lifting the cub when he pawed at her crossed legs. “You won’t let him…?”

“I’d bring him back with me,” Wen confirmed, and pulled a small waterskin from her pocket. “Here—goat’s milk. I love him, but I don’t have much time these days. The stablemaster would have to do it.”

“The stablemaster? But he’s a dreadful grouch!” Aisling protested, offering the waterskin to the cub, who accepted it with enthusiasm. “He won’t take good care of him. He probably won’t even give him a name!”

“What would you call him?” Wen asked, crouching beside them. 

“Well!” Aisling said, forehead wrinkling her vallaslin into scribbles. “I—his mother is Honey, and he is so sweet—Chocolate Pudding!” 

Wen could not fault that; she had, after all, named her hound Ser Grr. 

“Bears��re difficult,” she told Aisling. “Grumpy. Need their sleep. Never really tame.”

“Of course not, they’re bears,” Aisling said, still feeding the little fellow. 

“He’ll live to twenty-five or so. He’ll get big. Really big. He might not fit in your room.”

“Well, he will just have to live in the courtyard, then,” Aisling said, smiling when the bear finished his meal and batted at her hand. 

“Want to take him home?” Wen asked. 

“Well,” Aisling said, watching as the cub clambered down from her lap and toddled away. “But. You’d let me? You said you love him. You…trust me to take him with me?”

“Course,” Wen said. “You like animals. I’ve seen you with Little Brother. You’ll take care of him.” 

“But I—but—” Aisling began, her wide eyes welling up with tears. Alarmed, Wen tried to remember what Zevran had told her to say when she’d made someone cry, but the words escaped her. 

Abruptly, the Inquisitor threw her arms around Wen’s neck. Wen stiffened, uncertain, but patted the other woman’s shoulder after a moment. When she didn’t let go, Wen kissed the top of her head, blonde hair summer-warm and soft, and extricated herself from the embrace. 

“We should bring him back if you’re taking him,” she said. “We don’t want to walk back in the dark.”

“Yes, of—of course—” Aisling said, sniffing once and blinking rapidly. “Thank you, Ward—Arianwen. I won’t forget this, really.” 

“Alright,” Wen said, and bent to scoop up the cub. “You want to hold him?” 

“Of course,” Aisling said, scrubbing the heel of her hand over her cheek. “Come here, Pudding. I’ll be taking care of you, now.” 

Wen started back ahead of the Inquisitor, listening for the footsteps that followed after a moment. 

“Pudding,” Aisling said, so quietly she must think that Wen could not hear. “I’m sorry that she didn’t take good care of you. I know how much it hurts. I’m going to love you twice as much to make up for it. No—three times as much. We’ll be happy, you’ll see.”

Wen rubbed a hand over her chest, still listening, and heard a loud, exaggerated kissing sound. The cub made a soft noise behind her and Aisling laughed. 

When Wen turned to look at them, the Inquisitor had paused in a patch of sunlight, bear half-draped over one shoulder. The bear in question had grasped some of her hair and was chewing on it now, little whiskers brushing against her cheek. Aisling laughed again, shifting him back to her arms while he went on trying to eat her hair. 

Yes. That was what Arianwen had thought. There were very few people that she trusted too take care of her animals, but Aisling was exactly the right person for this. She’d never had any doubt. 

Even when the Inquisitor tied a massive red bow around Pudding’s neck before they rode away from Vigil’s Keep several days later, this opinion did not waver.

[damallarky]

Boyfriend

@buttsonthebeach, @beardedladyqueen and everyone else who have been waiting for Truce.... this is not it. BUT it is another Solavellan Kid Fic.

This takes place about three years after the events of Veilguard, when Solas and Lavellan finally have their happy ending because that's what's going to happen. Right BioWare? Right?????

Nan is Aisling's first child from a different relationship. He's 17.

Neria is Solavellan child #1. She's 15. If you have read Truce, you will be happy to notice that by the time this fic happens, Solas has earned the coveted title of "Papae".

Enasali is 3.

-

Aisling sat and embroidered underneath the shade of the massive oak tree in their garden, listening as her youngest child shrieked and ran away from the large monstrous wolf chasing her. It was the size of a small dragon, with six glowing eyes and razor-sharp teeth as tall as the toddler it was after.  

Yet Aisling knew her daughter was in no danger, for she knew the man beneath the beast and that he loved Enasali as much as she did. She also knew, as she felt the child growing within her kick, that their lives would be changing yet again (this time for the better) and that soon Solas would have much less time to play their daughter's favorite game of “Chase (and Be Chased By) the Giant Puppy.” 

She and Solas had both agreed to spend as much time as possible with their children, particularly Enasali, before the baby came, and most of their time and energy was taken up by the baby.

Aisling’s thoughts were interrupted by peels of laughter, and she looked up from her embroidery to see Solas belly crawl through the flowers, his tail wagging rapidly as he inched closer and closer to Enasali. 

“Not through my bellflowers, please!” she called out. 

Solas stopped in his tracks and glanced back at her with two of his six eyes. He had the decency to flatten his ears to his skull in a sheepish expression before rolling over slightly to the left to get out of the way of Aisling’s precious bulbs. The fact that he smashed more of them in the process was not lost on her. Or him, for that matter, given the fact that he was now, very pointedly, not looking at her. 

Aisling stifled her laughter and decided to let it slide for now. 

She was just about to return to her embroidery when she heard a scream, followed by a large crash. Solas, too, heard the crash, and he immediately froze, jumping to his feet with his ears perked up and all six of his eyes focused in the direction of the noise. They both settled, however, when they realized it was their two oldest children screeching down the steps of their Fade home and not an intruder. 

“GIVE IT BACK, RENAN!” Neria yelled, trying to grab at her brother. Nan leaped over the banister and made a beeline straight to his mother, a leatherbound journal in his hands and what Aisling could only describe as a shit-eating grin on his face. He ran behind his mother and opened the journal to read it out loud.

“’I saw him again today,’” he read gleefully. “’How have I never noticed how blue his eyes were before now?’”

“I swear, Nan,” Neria seethed, “if you do not give me back my journal right now…”

They chased each other in circles around their mother, who was trying in vain to make them stop.

“That’s enough, you two,” she said warningly, but her children seemed too busy antagonizing each other to hear her. Nan continued to read from Neria’s journal, ignoring her threats and holding her journal up high so his sister couldn’t reach it. 

“’I hope I can see him again soon!’” he crowed. “’If only so I can see those pretty blue eyes again!’”

Neria’s face turned as bright red as her hair, and she, in a fit of rage, punched her brother in the gut. Hard. 

“STOP IT, THE BOTH OF YOU!” Aisling shouted. Both children looked down in contrition as she stood up, abandoning her embroidery. With her real hand resting on her swollen stomach, she held out her artificial one to Nan expectantly. 

“Renan, give me her journal. Now,” she commanded. 

Head still bowed, he handed his mother the journal. Aisling then gave it to Neria, who practically yanked it out of her mother’s hand and held it close to her chest.

“Neria,” Aisling said in a severe voice to let her daughter know she meant business, “how many times have your father and I told you that not every problem can be solved with your fists?”

She glanced over at said father, who was conveniently pretending he could not hear the argument as he entertained Enasali. Aisling supposed it was for the best. Their youngest hero worshiped her older siblings and was distraught whenever they argued, and Aisling was unsure if she could deal with a sobbing toddler on top of two misbehaving teenagers. 

“Now,” she said, giving both of her children very pointed looks, “I want the two of you to apologize to each other immediately.”

“Ir abelas, Neria,” Nan said. “I shouldn’t have taken your journal or told everyone about your secret boyfriend…”

Aisling glared at her son while Neria looked ready to punch him again. 

“Renan Lavellan!” 

“He’s not my boyfriend!”

“What is this about a boyfriend?”

They all turned to see a massive lupine head looming down at them, six eyes darting between the three of them in concern.

“Neria, is someone courting you?” he asked, his voice taking on a slightly panicked quality to it. “Who is this boy? How old is he? How did you meet him?” 

Neria’s face got redder and redder with each question, while Nan’s grin broadened. 

“She met him at one of Uncle Varric’s parties!” he said gleefully. Neria gave him a withering look, and Aisling was suddenly very concerned that Neria would skip the fists and start setting her brother on fire. Then she looked over at Solas, and judging by the look in his six eyes, Aisling knew that he was mentally going over every known associate of Varric Tethras, trying to determine who this mysterious suitor was and how to adequately dispose of them. Probably also with fire.

It took her breath away at times how alike father and daughter were. It was also just as likely to give her a headache.

Aisling pinched the bridge of her nose. 

“Solas…” she said warningly.

“What?” Solas replied innocently. “I merely wish to know more about Neria’s boyfriend…” Then, he narrowed his eyes and added, “…whom I would also very much like to meet. Privately.” 

Neria threw her arms up in the air in exasperation. 

“PAPAE!” she screeched. “THERE IS NO BOYFRIEND!”

Neria clutched her journal to her chest and glared at her family.

"You are all the worst!" she cried before stomping off towards the house.

Aisling heaved a heavy sigh. She had a feeling this wouldn't be the last time she'd hear of this.

[daggerbeanart]

oc doodles the sequel <3

aisling lavellan, june trevelyan

elanor cousland, arianwen tabris

mihri lavellan

aisling belongs to @greypetrel, june belongs to @layalu, elanor belongs to @ndostairlyrium, arianwen belongs to @shivunin and mihri belongs to @n7viper

[cao-the-dreamer]

@greypetrel I probably could say something more clever than "happy birb makes brain go brrrr" but nah. Happy family reunion here we go <3

[ndostairlyrium]

points torchlight under her chin and laughs

Buonasera uwu

Cullen+Ankh in C2, Fenris+Barbara in E1, Alistair+Ela in F2

And give me some Salopette Club (Aisling and Barbara) in whatever pose you'd like (if you'd like of course) Bye! <3

Buonasera signorina buonaseeera 🎶

Non ti dico che ho adorato questa lista, ma ho adorato questa lista ;; aaaa grasie <3

fereldans mad at food

you can tell she's tilted lmao

fancyfen is back ;; now with the accessory of indignation

*squeaky toy sound* I modified A2 to fit the vibe I get from them :' they're two peluches in disguise, in my head

The Meme

[crowetesque]

Backlog: Another years old scribble of my companionquisitor, Aisling Lavellan, with her first nug pet... "Nugget."

[damallarky]

This has been sitting in my drafts for several years now at this point lol….

Ok for reference- my Warden is Seraphina Surana and she romanced Zevran. My Hawke’s name is Janette and she romanced Anders. And finally my Inquisitor is Aisling Lavellan and she romanced Solas.

Seraphina would romance Anders I think. She knew him from the Circle and and while he was older than her by several years they did hang out in the same group of friends. She also recruited him. So they’re friends. And with time I think it could blossom into something more. I also think it would be good for Anders because Seraphina wouldn’t take any of Justice’s shit. For Inquisition companions, she would romance Cullen. They used to have the biggest crush on each other.

Janette would probably romance Zevran. They would match each other’s freak fairly well. For Inquisition she would either go for the Iron Bull or Josephine. The Iron Bull because she would find him very sexy and Josephine because she’s cute and has a low key bit of gremlin in her that Janette wouldn’t be able to resist.

And finally, Aisling. She would love Alistair. She’s a romantic at heart and Alistair would definitely be her knight in shining armor. Like, I could see her pressing that rose and keeping it forever. I also think she wouldn’t mind being the king’s side piece- she knows who he really loves and that would be enough for her. Among the Kirkwall Crew she would fall hard for Fenris. Brooding wolves is kind of her thing.

Bonus Rook since I waited so damn long lmao:

Renan (my Rook) would want Morrigan carnally the minute he sees her turn into a giant fucking spider and rips someone’s head off. Idk who he’d go for among the Kirkwall Crew to be honest. But it would be either Merrill because I think they would be cute together, or Fenris for similar reasons to Morrigan. Finally in Inquisition, Ren would stumble into a romance with Cassandra. Face first most likely. Like Aisling, he is a bit of a romantic, and I could see him serenading his raven haired lady. He’s also into women who could kick his ass into the next Age, so there’s that.

Which DA2 and Inquisition companions would your Warden romance?

Which Origins and Inquisition companions would your Hawke romance?

Which Origins and DA2 companions would your Inquisitor romance?

[loustica-lucia]

My Dragon Age OCs Tarot Project

Almost 2years of artworks compiled for Dragon Age Day 2024! All of the OCs presented here are mine♥ (If you're curious, feel free to ask me anything about them!)

The Fool — Tabata Formenti of Orlais, self-insert. The Magician — Taam-kas Asaaranda, Blacksmith. The High Priestess — Levi Hawke Vaël, mute Templar.

The Empress — Deirdre Surana-Arainai, blood mage. The Emperor — Farron Mahariel, Dalish hunter bard. The Hierophant — Yun & Sumu (Monkey), Fog Warriors.

The Lovers — Aisling Cassius Vatia & Lusacan Vatia, Magister & shapeshifter liberati. The Chariot — Meivis Alansen, Avvar hunter. The Strength — Alba de Riva, Antivan performer who became a Rook.

The Hermit — Callathian Gamordan (Lavellan) Pentaghast, elf-blooded not so dalish poet. The Wheel of Fortune — Rory Kestrel, former Ander merchant who became a pirate and Lord of Fortune. Justice — Alyssa Cousland-Theirin, Warden-Queen.

The Hanged Man — Eva Hawke Tethras, salacious writer. Death — Aster Lucia Aurum Trevelyan Rutherford, Tranquil mage. Temperance — Talitha Cadash Rainier, tavern waitress.

The Tower — Rokko Vegrandis, fisherman & cook. The Star — Gaatha Adaar Montilyet, Adaari artificer. The Moon — Sulevin Lavellan, dalish tempest thief.

The Sun — Eleena Amell Hawke, spirit healer with a kind soul. Judgement — Visham Brosca, dwarven rogue who committed the ultimate sacrifice. The World — Chantal De Montfort DuBois, an Orlesian cheese maker.

[lasatfat]

@dadrunkwriting

This did have a prompt, but it kind of got away from me. Gaël and Addie belong to @cryptidglitter.

Adventures in Babysitting

Isabela has never considered herself the maternal sort. She likes children well enough, but the prospect of looking after one for an extended period of time always seemed like a daunting prospect. Bearing one of her own was completely out of the question, if only because morning sickness is barely tolerable even after a night of drinking and revelry. So, when she’d woken that morning to the cries of distressed children, she’d surprised herself when she rushed towards its source rather than shying away from it.

Aisling, Addie and Gaël had developed identical rashes overnight. Upon examination, Torunn had decided that they’d come down with chicken pox. Athim couldn’t say for certain that she’d had chicken pox before, and therefore, she couldn’t care for the children without risking the child she was carrying. So, Isabela surprised herself again. She pushed past Torunn, and scooped the youngsters into her arms.

“There, there,” she said, softly. “It’s alright. Auntie ‘Bela’s here, now.”

That was an hour ago, or so. In that time, Auntie ‘Bela and Uncle Fenris had dressed, sent for food and drink, and gently cleaned the children with soap and warm water. Now, Aisling and Gaël are calm, and soaking in a lukewarm bath of oats and elfroot to soothe their itchy skin. Gaël has perked up, somewhat, and is singing to himself in Orlesian. Fenris is warming milk over the fire. And Aisling…well, Aisling is still notably subdued.

“What’s bothering you, bunny?” asks Isabela. It’s Aisling’s favourite animal, so it seems like a fitting nickname. It only earns her a shrug. “Come on, you can tell me. It might help you feel better.”

Aisling looks up at her, with sad, grey eyes. “I don’t know.”

Isabela rests her chin on the lip of the tub, sticking her bottom lip out in commiseration. “Is it the chicken pox? Are you still itchy?”

Aisling shakes her head.

“Then what?”

She’s silent for a little while longer, and Isabela thinks she might not get an answer. That’s alright. She isn’t owed one. But Aisling seems unable to hold back her torment any longer. Her little face scrunches up as she says, “Athim didn’t want to look after me.”

Isabela draws in a horrified breath. She hadn’t even thought, but why would Aisling understand? She’s only a child. “Oh, no, bunny. Of course she wants to. She just can’t.”

“Why not?” Aisling asks.

And that’s the question. How much can Isabela say?

“Well…” she begins, carefully, “your sister has to think about you, but now, she has to think about the baby, too. And if she comes down with chicken pox, the baby will be ill with her, and it could be very bad for them.”

Aisling blinks. “I didn’t know.”

“It’s alright.” Isabela gives her a reassuring smile. “But do you understand now, why Athim has to stay away?”

Aisling nods. “She has to look after the baby,” she agrees. Gaël nods too, as solemnly as a six-year-old boy can.

“Yes, she does,” Isabela goes on, “but luckily, Auntie ‘Bela can look after you two.” She punctuates the statement with a tap to the tip of Aisling’s nose, which finally makes her smile. She taps Gaël’s nose too, so he doesn’t feel left out.

“And Oncle Fenris,” he insists.

“Oh, yes, Auntie ‘Bela has to look after him, too,” she agrees.

The children giggle again, and Fenris half-turns on his stool. “I’m right here,” he says – he mimics offense, but there’s a smile playing on his face, too. “How’s the oat bath?”

“It’s like a big bowl of porridge,” Aisling says.

“We’re like the raisins,” Gaël adds. He gasps, and holds out his hands, wrinkled by the water. “We have the raisin fingers!”

“I don’t like porridge,” Aisling complains, “and I a’specially don’t like raisins!”

Isabela laughs – it’s good to see the children having fun, even just a little. She turns to Gaël, and tucks a chunk of hair behind his ear. “What do you like on your porridge, raisin?”

“Umm…” Gaël takes a moment to think, and finally decides on, “honey.”

“Well, you’re in luck,” says Isabela. “I’ve got a story, about the Good Ship Raisin hounded by the pirates of the Honey Drizzle, and their dreaded captain, Isabela!”

Bathtime is a lot quieter after she clears her throat, and begins the tale.

[greypetrel]

It shines anyway… 🦄✨💁‍♀️

[damallarky]

Aisling is “Birdie” because he caught her singing to herself one day and thought she had a lovely singing voice. The thing is, she has a stutter and also happens to be VERY shy so no one believed him when he mentioned it and it kind of drove him insane.

Aisling could have said something at any point but she thought it was funny so she didn’t.

Quick!! Reblog this with a picture of your Inquisitor and the nickname Varric gives them! (I'm honestly so curious!!)

[shivunin]

Petal-Crowned

Borrowing the lovely @greypetrel's Aisling for this piece! I adore Arja and Aisling both and I also think they would be good friends and good for each other. When I saw her absolutely gorgeous piece of Elowen and Aisling, I couldn't help but want to write a piece to fit it. So---here is my contribution. Thank you, as always, for your friendship and for letting me borrow your baby!

(Recommended listening)

(Elowen & Aisling Lavellan | 874 Words | No Warnings)

"yet here’s eglantine, Here’s ivy!— take them, as I used to do Thy flowers, and keep them where they shall not pine. Instruct thine eyes to keep their colours true, And tell thy soul, their roots are left in mine." ---Elizabeth Barrett Browning, "Sonnets from the Portuguese 44..."

The sun was warm, the air was sweet, and half the meadow’s flowers clung to Elowen’s hair. She felt as if she was half-dreaming here amongst the soft grasses and bright colors of this glade, but she knew that she was not. Perhaps the beauty of this place only felt dream-like because things had been so miserable for so long that beautiful and nice things must feel, by some token, somewhat dream-like.

Thoughts better not to dwell on, she supposed.

“When do you think the others are coming back?” she called to Aisling, who was wandering some distance away, judging by the rustling of her feet through the flowers. 

“Hmmm,” Aisling said. “I’m not sure. But look!”

Elowen looked, fingers still busy on the twined flowers in her lap. Triumphant, Aisling held an elfroot plant in the air, dark earth still clinging to its roots. 

“I’m going to bring it back to Skyhold,” she announced, beaming at the slender stalk. “I know just where to plant it.”

“It’s perfect,” Elowen agreed, taking in the slight woodiness of the stem, the healthy green of the leaves. It was easy to plant elfroot seeds, but much more difficult to transplant an existing specimen. For all that it seemed to grow all over Thedas, the plant did not take well to being uprooted. 

If anyone could coax it to take to a new home, Elowen was certain it would be Aisling. 

“Do you want any more of this or should I put it away?” she asked while her friend carefully bundled the plant away. 

Aisling glanced at the saddle blanket they sat on, which also held the open pack and the scattered remnants of their lunch. The cheese was nestled under an active ice spell (Aisling’s contribution; Elowen had never been good with frost magic) and the bread had been set neatly aside where it could avoid any potential dampness. The remaining fruit, purchased from the nearby and very grateful residents of Crestwood, was nestled in an open satchel. 

“Hmm,” Elowen’s friend said. “We can leave it. There’s time to have more later.”

Elowen made a soft noise of assent and turned back to the half-made chain of flowers in her lap. It took a little deftness to do this without losing anything crucial. Petals wanted badly to fall off once the flower had been plucked, and if she was not careful she would wind up with fingers stained green and a chain of battered stems. 

After a time, Aisling sat behind her, back pressed to Elowen’s. Elowen made little progress, half-dozing in the dappled sunlight, and for once she did not blame herself for it. It would have felt silly to hold herself to such deadlines and pressures here. This place was far too comfortable to bring herself to care. 

“Elowen?” 

“Hm?” she roused slightly, eyes heavy, and almost fell backward when Aisling moved away from her. 

“Here!” Aisling said while Elowen steadied herself, “I picked the ones that seemed to fit. See—the green of the leaves here match your vallaslin precisely.”

It took her a moment to comprehend what was happening, fingers still tangled in the chain she’d begun to weave, the sunlight almost too bright now that she’d opened her eyes again. But—while she had rested, her friend had made something beautiful and bright. It hung from her pale fingers now as Aisling held it out: purple and yellow and white against green leaves that—yes, actually would match Elowen’s vallaslin when they weren’t in direct sunlight. The petals of the pansies looked unimaginably soft, velvet-sheened in the sunlight. Aisling grinned at her, smile just as bright as the sunshine in the meadow.

“I think it suits you,” she said. Elowen smiled as the little crown settled over her head and Aisling leaned forward to kiss her cheek. 

What a gift this was. A gift—to have the easy company of a good friend, to sit in the sunlight and smell the flowers. A gift, to be safe and full and cared for

“Thank you,” she murmured when Aisling rocked back onto her heels. Aisling clapped her hands together, eyes fixed on the ring of flowers atop Elowen’s head. 

“It’s perfect!” she said, grinning. 

Elowen leaned forward and pressed her lips to her friend’s cheek in turn, sun-warm and soft as it was. 

“It is,” she agreed, and turned her attention back to her lap. “Perfect. It’s beautiful work, truly.”

Forget-me-nots still clung softly to her fingers as she wove a lily into its place near the center. What a pleasure it would be to give her friend the joy she’d been given. How remarkable, to offer something simple and good to someone she cared for. 

Behind her, Aisling began to speak again, describing a mishap with her dear horse and a thorny bush. Her voice had a pleasant cadence, rising and falling like a friendly and familiar tune. The bees hummed nearby, drifting from flower to flower. Soft breezes brushed past stems and leaves and bobbing blossoms. Sparse clouds drifted between them and the sun, never obscuring the light for too long. 

Elowen listened and found herself glad beyond measuring to simply be herself at this precise place and time. Smiling faintly at the sound of her friend’s voice, she lifted her fingers and wove on.

[damallarky]

Presenting… the third dumbest thing I’ve ever drawn.

My Lavellan’s into it, ok?

[merrybandofmurderers]

more from this meiker

Dirthera'an-vir'Theneras'ghilana'Vallavunin (ae/xe)

Jain Trevelyan (ney/nem)

Kanaan Adaar (she/her)

Helena Trevelyan (she/they)

Neveah Lavellan (she/they)

Aisling Trevelyan (they/she)

Siobhan Trevelyan (he/him)

Layeirth Istimaethoriel Lavellan (ae/aer)

Xiosa Adaar (xe/xem)

@modelsof-color, @calicostorms, @fade-and-loathing-in-thedas, @spainkitty, @warden-amell, @evangeline444, @ringneckedpheasant

[cao-the-dreamer]

@greypetrel I did a thing :)

A case of bears and missing pants

It seems Zevran is having a field day, judging by his grin - which could be described as "shit-eating."

All opposed to Cullen, who looks like he's not paid enough to deal with this shit.

(It’s not like the Inquisition members are even paid. Do they at least have dental?)

The dual sources of Zevran's unfiltered glee and Cullen's exhausted misery are a giant ball of fluff and an elf happily buried in the fluff.

Lost in the sauce, one may say.

"Why, no need to fret, Commander," the comfort in Zevran's voice is almost believable, "my darling won't bring any harm to your darling, if that is what worries you."

"You’re talking about the man who set his hair on fire to help an apostate escape."

"Quite the clever plan, indeed."

Cullen's eyebags seem to expand at the comment.

Aisling is too busy inspecting and bombarding the bear with questions to notice the banter in the foreground. As for Galenos, he simply sits back and enjoys the Inquisitor's poking, with the occasional nod or growl.

Let's not forget bears, even magical ones, are unable to talk.

When Aisling comments on letting Cullen ride her if she ever learns how to shapeshift, Galenos turns his head toward the ex-Templar and wiggles the bear equivalent of eyebrows.

(Should we add that Cullen had a crush on this man ten years ago? It is unlikely Galenos has forgotten about the blurted "confession" during the whole Circle clusterfuck.)

In any case, it is written all over Cullen's face he wishes to be anywhere but here. The suffering expression increases tenfold when the bear stands up, steps back, and starts glowing until he is no longer an animal but a man, naked like the day he was born.

Cullen's exasperated "oh, for the love of -" is cut off by Zevran's cackling "avert your virgin eyes, Commander" while Aisling simply pouts.

"Aw, you're not a real bear?"

"Sorry to disappoint," Galenos scratches his cheek with a sheepish smile, unaware half of the courtyard is either looking at anything but him or staring very, very intently. "I could always teach you, if you want?"

Aisling's enthusiastic squeal chases away the remaining on-lookers, but before she can drag him away for a lesson, a hand gently taps on the man's shoulder.

"Aren't you forgetting something, darling?" Zevran asks with mirth.

Galenos scrunches his face in concentration, then brightens and dips Zevran into a passionate kiss before following Aisling while humming a merry tune.

"The pants, mi corazon, the pants!" Zevran manages to say between two fits of laughter.