#alora lavellan

[exalted-dawn]

A bunch of little sketches and doodles of OCs over in DAFF :3

@dreadfutures @oxygenforthewicked @inquisimer @nirikeehan @rosella-writes @monocytogenes @kiastirling

[exalted-dawn-drabbles]

Helloooo I come with a double whammy of "[Suddenly feels around the bed to search for the other’s hand / body when they’re sleeping] [Extends a hand when they see the other was searching for it while they’re sleeping]" for Solas x Alora

;w; I am so emo about this I hope you enjoy the mundane angst Solas has to struggle for the sin of loving someone. for @dadrunkwriting

Rated G: Slice of Life, Solas-typical angst, ~650 words

To Be Enough | Exalted_Dawn

When Solas felt the gentle nudge against his thigh, he simply brushed it off as happenstance. He disregarded the touch, shifting so that Alora could rest without interruption. Since returning from the Western Approach, it was becoming an increasing struggle for her to sleep fully through to dawn. Sleepless nights predated dismal mornings, her typically aurelian smile growing dimmer with the increasingly darkened circles that rimmed her eyes. It was because of this that he often found himself now losing sleep, just to ensure that she slept first. 

Tonight had been no different. He sat awake now, book in hand, with a constant mind on his wards. Simple spells to keep her from wandering too deeply into the Fade. Anything to buy her a few more hours of peace. 

Perhaps that was why, when her hand tapped his leg again, Solas was awake enough to let it capture his attention. Alora’s brows were furrowed with tension, a faint frown marring her shadowed features. The expression twisted her scarlet vallaslin and hid freckles between the creases near her clenched eyes. Solas scowled at that. Was she having another nightmare, even with the aid of his wards?

He bent over her to brush a strengthening spell across her forehead, but before he could even touch his fingers to her skin, a half-formed murmur floated up from below. 

“...olas?”

Her hand brushed upwards, creating a wake of folded fabric in the blankets following her touch. Though they could hardly be considered anything more than twitches, her fingers began to flex and unfurl, first once but then repeatedly. Almost as if she were… 

His eyes flicked down to his own splayed hand beneath him, a mere span of inches from her own. Something bitter twisted in his chest as the realization struck him. A knife blow from which a deep sorrow blossomed. He continued to watch for a moment as Alora groped for him in her sleep, and suddenly his being here felt inexplicably cruel. For weeks now, he had been forced to lie to himself– to create empty reasons to excuse his continued presence by her side. But ironically enough, wrapped in night’s thickest shrouds, his deceptions could not be more clear to him. He should not be sharing a room with her. A bed. This was more than what was required to keep himself close to her. 

…More than what was required, but less than what he wished for. 

Ever selfishly, he dropped his hand instead to brush his knuckles along the curve of her cheek. A touch’s kiss. 

She deserved better. 

Alora groaned quietly again, chasing his touch as he drew it away, even in her sleep. He saw the stirrings of wakefulness beneath her eyelids, how the slight flutter of lashes became sharper and more pronounced. Almost unthinkingly, he dropped his hand over hers, squeezing it just so. As firmly as one might dare hold to a dream, for all its fragility.

She deserved better– someone who would hold her hand in theirs without the intent of release. One day, the empty space in this bed would be filled once more, and when she reached out for touch, they would not hesitate to take her hand. It would be one day soon, he imagined. She would find someone better than him. 

But for now, her hand need not go upheld. Her bed, unshared. It was a kindness, he told himself. It was also a lie. But as her turned towards her, pulling Alora gently into his arms, he decided it was one he could live with. So he settled, tucking her head beneath his chin where she fit so perfectly. He was not without his flaws, nor his sins. And if this was to be another, then so be it. She deserved better, but perhaps for now… tonight, he could be enough.

[theluckywizard]

@exalted-dawn’s OC

Aloranna “Alora” Lavellan and Solas 🥰

Alora is described as well-meaning, awkward, friendly, introverted, lacking in self-confidence and a bit of a nerd and a goof! Also she’s a horse girl 🐴

I had so much fun painting these two in my ‘pastelly’ style! Thank you for giving me leave to draw her!

[nirikeehan]

wip wednesday

Thank you for the tag, @melisusthewee!

This week, in honor of @wolfs-dawn's birthday, I have put her OC Alora Lavellan and my OC Thalia Trevelyan into a spooky Situation™. They've gotten lost after one of their horses lost a shoe and they can't find their way back to Caer Bronach in Crestwood.

---

Thalia took a breath and let it out slowly. The threads of panic she’d been ignoring for hours began to seep in. Above the tree canopy, the sky was fading from pink to a navy blue; soon the stars would be out. It had all seemed so simple at lunchtime. Alora had arrived in Crestwood unexpectedly, sent to tend to the new retinue of horses operating out of Caer Bronach. Thalia and her field team were still in the region, sweeping the area for any lingering undead since closing the Fade rift under Old Crestwood. Now that the weather had improved, it seemed the perfect opportunity for a forest ride. 

They were without any camping supplies, having assumed they’d have a quick jaunt and be back at the keep by dinner. They’d gone without any escort or security detail, because that defeated the purpose of stepping out on work to spend your afternoon with a friend. It also meant no one knew where they were, or how to reach them. And the “shortcut” Thalia opted to take had only gotten them more lost. 

“So. What are our options?” Thalia asked, putting on the voice she used at the war table. 

“Er. Well. We could keep going,” Alora said. “Hope we find the main road again, or at least a village or crossroads inn that will take us for the night. Hope they have a farrier for Puck. I’ve got a few sovereigns in my pocket.” 

“Right. Or…” Thalia glanced at the grove of trees straddling the path. “I guess we could try sleeping here and set out again by the morning’s light.” 

“No offense, Your Worship,” Alora replied, “but I’m not keen on sleeping on the ground and foraging berries for our supper tonight. I know the Dalish have a reputation, but bad conditions favor nobody.” 

“All right, all right. We’ll go a little longer. But if it gets fully dark I think we need to reassess. These woods aren’t safe at night.” Thalia almost added that they were barely safe during the day, what with the reports of Red Templars out in the hills, but she didn’t want to add to Alora’s worry. That had barely been a consideration earlier in the day. 

The two continued down the desolate country road, the twilight deepening. Before long, the trees grew ever thicker, and a low mist rolled in along the ground. Ambient animal sounds drew nearer: crickets, hooting owls, and a fluttering of wings that might be bats. 

A high-pitched inhuman whine filled the air, distant but disquieting. 

Alora gasped, looking about as her horse whickered in fear. “What was that?” 

“Wolves, I think,” Thalia whispered. 

“Oh.” Alora’s voice trembled. “Right. Okay. Just wolves. Hungry for flesh and blood, probably.” She laughed nervously. “I take everything back. We should have stayed where we were.” 

“Wolves aren’t so bad,” Thalia said, trying to keep her voice light. “We could take them. I’ve got my staff and you’ve got your sword, right?” 

“Yeahhhh, um. About that…” 

“Alora.” Thalia stopped in her tracks. “You didn’t bring it?” 

“I didn’t think I’d need it! In my defense.” 

“Of course.” Maybe Thalia should have told her about the Red Templars. Or the dragon she’d spied circling the air south of the Crestwood dam. Or the reports of wyvern sightings in the area. “Well. I know this much: when we get back, Blackwall is going to be furious.” 

She imagined what the stoic, black-clad Grey Warden was doing in her absence. Probably pacing about Caer Bronach, seething. He misliked letting her get into intrigues on her own. Which, given how dangerous much of the Thedosian wilderness had proven to be, was probably wise.  

“Is now really the time to bring him up?” Alora asked, urging Alassa through a particularly dense patch of fog. “Creators, I swear sometimes that man acts more like your babysitter than your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Thalia huffed. “He’s my sworn knight and protector.” 

“Ah, I see. So your babysitter and your boyfriend.” 

Thalia was about to hotly contest what must be a Dalish cultural misunderstanding of knightly chivalry, but Alora let out a small yelp. “Wait, hang on! I think I see something up ahead.” 

---

Tagging, if interested:

@anneapocalypse | @rakshadow | @oxygenforthewicked | @highwayphantoms | @monocytogenes | @inquisimer | @delicatefade | @demarogue | @ocean-in-my-rebel-soul | @little--abyss | @whirrlinginrags | @theluckywizard

[cosmic-cris-draws]

Dragon Age is a dating sim TO ME

[badartxd]

Bone jour! I’m sliding back into y’all’s feed with @wolfs-dawn ‘s Alora!! I’m low key settled on associating the word bean with her in my brain oops XD

[maebird-melody]

Authors were revealed earlier this week for the @solavellanhellexchange. I love the gift I received and I had great fun writing for this exchange as well!

This was my first time participating in a fic exchange event, and the people involved made it a truly great experience. I also may have gotten carried away with how much I wrote.

the road seems too wild for mixing it with blues

 To the rest of the world, for once, he is not Solas, not Fen'Harel, not the Dread Wolf; she is not Lady Lavellan, not the Inquisitor. They are visitors engaged in discovery, and the world will indulge them for just this little while.

-:-:-

Solas walks the earth on a new path, with Lavellan at his side. There is no death on this journey--only life, and limitless pot

Thank you so much @dreadfutures for the wonderful gift!

Now, like I mentioned, I got a bit carried away with the pieces I wrote.

Ea Aron Arlathan

My gift for @midorimaddie

However brief their time together might be, Solas is determined to make the most of it. With the memory of Arlathan still on his mind and his desire to be with Aerwynn growing stronger every day, he decides to take a most dangerous course of action - reenacting the courtship rituals of the Elvhen people.

Uthenera - Fen’Harel Ver Na

My gift for everyone

"I lay in dark and dreaming sleep while countless wars and ages past."

This song blends the Lost Elf Theme and the Thedas Love Theme, and also introduces a new theme of my own devising which can be heard in the opening bars of the piece. This is a programmatic piece, which means that each part of the song represents an unfolding story. For program notes, see the end of this page.

You can also watch the sheet music playback here.

A Wonder

Written for Exalted_Dawn

"It was unlike Alora to shirk her duties. It seemed much more likely to him that she had simply wandered off somewhere, none the wiser to the pressing concerns which had arisen in her absence. And while he didn’t doubt his own capability in finding Alora quickly, he knew someone who would be able to locate her even faster. Someone Varric would never think to ask."

Everyone's looking for the Inquisitor, but no one knows where to find her. When Varric asks Solas to help find her, he asks another friend for help. He'll need to offer some encouragement before Alora is ready to leave her hiding place.

A New Haven

Written for @rosella-writes

"Unlike the blade—a brutish, simple implement worked from a single strip of metal—the hilt was delicate work, crafted from myriad metals coaxed together through careful attention, convinced by skilled hands that they were all one."

Virelan finds solace in smithing. But either fortunately or unfortunately, her time does not go entirely uninterrupted. Perhaps her visitor can help her finish what she started.

Vhenas Eth

Written for @lyriumpotion

Inquisitor Dalla has a secret place she likes to go to escape the pressures of the Inquisition. Only those she trusts are invited in.

To the Thaig

Written for @bluewren

Taliesen has heard news of a long-abandoned thaig that was recently discovered in the Deep Roads. In the hopes of uncovering some useful tools or forgotten technology, she and her companions set out to investigate.

The Wolf Maiden

Written for @alondradina

Solas has been invited to his grandmother's house, but she lives in the woods and as everyone knows, dangerous wolves roam these woods.

[exalted-dawn]

Art I did for the DAFF Satinalia Exchange! Alora and @bluewren ‘s Tali are sitting down for a meal and conversation :3

[exalted-dawn-drabbles]

happy dadwc friday! maybe solas/alora and "a deer darting away under the trees" from the sensory prompts list?

Filling this prompt for you and for @dreadfutures uwu Have a bit of angsty wolf Solas watching Alora from the corners of her dreams ;w;

for @dadrunkwriting

Rated G: Angst, ~500 Words

A Wolf Amidst The Trees | By Exalted_Dawn

In dreams, he means to appear to her as himself. If things were simple, perhaps he would be able to. But instead, he comes to her as he is, not as he was first. Brindle fur, the color of sun-touched earth, moves seamlessly between the trees as he follows her. She is a smudge of white and gold at the forest’s edge, stark against browning meadow grass. Once, she used to appear to him as herself. Pale hair like wheat and inquisitive red eyes that searched the treeline for any sign or tell of his passing. Her voice, a scythe through the woods on the few occasions that she did notice him.

She used to chase him. Begging. Calling his name. ‘Solas’. And it would always be he who ran first. 

Now, though, the form he tracked was no longer the one he remembered. Golden hair was replaced by long, twisting antlers stained a yellow ivory color, and the pallor of her skin was no longer the subtly tanned peach that he recalled tasting beneath every kiss. Now she was enshrouded by a pelt of snow white fur. The guise of one of Ghilan’nain’s halla.

And now, when she spotted him lurking amidst the trees, she did not give chase. She would stand and stare. Silent, as he was silent. And they would stay as such– a halla in her field, and a wolf in his forest. Separated by the natural divide of light and shadow. They would stay until the dream faded, becoming nothing more than a vision behind his eyes as he woke. 

He had to wonder if that was what she saw herself as now. His prey. Was that why she no longer gave chase, even as she hunted him in the waking world? 

The thought saddened him. Scared him, even. 

Perhaps that was why he never dared draw closer. Once he had had a reason– her safety, he had told himself. To ensure she still lived and that she slept sound at night. He had already been too cruel in letting her get close once, and she had gotten hurt for it, but from a distance, he could protect her, at least for a time. He could keep her in his gaze until the day came that they would meet and their conflict would come to bare. 

Now though, standing under her gaze, he knew he was simply scared. Scared that he would take a step and she would go bounding off and would hide herself amidst the far glade, disappearing amongst the trees. 

He feared that she would go somewhere that he could not follow.

So he stood still in the safety of his shadows, watching her through wolven eyes. Letting himself be watched in turn. And ignoring the quiet, juvenile hope in his heart that she might come closer. 

That she could still find it in herself to take a single step. 

Foolishly, he hoped.

[exalted-dawn]

OC Kiss Week 2023

Drew a bunch of hot OCs smooching my OCs uwu it was a good time 😌🥰💖

Thank you again to @inquisimer , @dreadfutures , @rosella-writes , @nirikeehan , and my friends Mel and Jo for lending me your OCs for my brain rot 😂

[exalted-dawn-drabbles]

Happy Friday Ed! How about "when one stops the kiss to whisper “I’m sorry, are you sure you-” and they answer by kissing them more" for Solas and Alora?

heheheheheheh I finally managed to fill a prompt THE WORDS ARE RETURNING! Thank you very much Lucky for this prompt I pay you with a snippet from post Fade Tongue uwu For @dadrunkwriting

Rated T: Public sexy kissing LOL ~300 words

Answers | By Exalted_Dawn

The words came out all tangled-like. Breathless and stumbled over. “I- I’m sorry, but I-” She swallowed a soft gasp, lips wet and shining in the soft light of the wall torch above them. “Are you sure you-” 

The words were swallowed up without hesitation, artist’s thumbs brushing against her cheek. “Yes.” Solas breathed the word cleanly as a knife cut before he resumed kissing her, pushing her further, more firmly, against the wall.  

She was certain that, from a late night passerby’s perspective, the two of them probably looked ridiculous. Solas was at least a head and a half taller than her, and had to bend sharply just to reach her mouth. She was certain they looked ridiculous, because Solas was covered in paint and she was somehow even a brighter shade of red than the scarlet that coated his fingers. They looked ridiculous, because he was him and she was her, and this was their second first kiss and she had no clue what she was doing. 

But with heady sigh and sweeping tongue, Solas pushed away all doubts. He kissed her harder, the touch of him undeniably real, and Alora had to admit that she found herself becoming hopelessly convinced. She had come to him after the dream for reassurance– an answer to a question. 

Which one, she wasn’t sure: Was it a mistake? Did you regret it? Why? For what reason?

Solas answered them all with stunning simplicity. His hands sifted into her hair, pulling her closer. She sighed, fingers a knot in his shirt. Yes, she had come for an answer, and as always, he gave it.

[exalted-dawn-drabbles]

Ed. I am being extremely galaxy-brained rn, but what if Thalia & Alora kid!au for the childhood prompt: "meeting your new family after being adopted." You get to decide who's being adopted into which family. Happy Friday and hope this inspires you!!

ITS SO CUTE OKAY ITS SO CUTE AND I LOVE IT! Let me set the scene: Thalia, a new mage and disgrace to her family, is taken from home to live at the Circle. On her way to her new life, the caravan is attacked by brigands and apostates, and Thalia barely makes it out alive with her life. Terrified and injured, she barrels into the nearby woods, only to be discovered by a party of Dalish hunters. Clan Lavellan. Without anywhere else to go and terrified beyond words, she is brought back with them until it can be decided on what to do with her. And unwittingly she finds herself accepted amongst a small family unit within the clan, and in so doing, meets her future sister Alora :3 For @dadrunkwriting

Rated G: No warnings, ~1.1k words

Kindling | By Exalted_Dawn

Alora stared in startled wonder from just beyond the her mother’s shoulder, brown eyes wide and half-terrified. “-So she will be staying with us for a time, da’len.” The rough warm timber of her father’s voice barely managed to stir a reaction from her– maybe a mumbled affirmative of some kind, but definitely not more than that. Most of her attention was being absorbed by the red-headed girl standing stiffly beside him, looking all the world as though she might give way to heart exhaustion. She looked even more terrified than Alora did, and pale as bone. Blood flowed freely from a dozen different cuts that ran all across her arms and face, and her robes, what were probably once a deep bronze and blue, were now almost entirely brown in color, heavy with mud stain. Plainly, she looked a mess, like someone who had stumbled through a berry bush and caught half of it in her hair. But even then– that was not the most interesting thing about her. No. It was her ears.

Round. Round ears. 

Before now, if Alora had ever wanted to get close to a human, it meant sneaking into a passing town with Nellas for sweets. Never before has one stood squarely in the center of their camp– not alive and unharmed, anyway. How babae had managed to sneak her in-

Her mamae Haleira gave her a firm nudge in the arm, signaling her forward. To speak. Fenedhis, and say what exactly? “Uhm-” 

She looked to her father for help, still entirely unsure of what was happening. Was she even allowed to talk to this girl?

Something flashed through her father’s warm brown eyes. Something sad and heavy and clearly complicated. He approached and stepped between the two, his hand heavy against Alora’s shoulder. “Listen, da’len. Her caravan was attacked and her escorts slain,” he said, speaking soft. “The Keeper has ordered us to watch after her until we pass close enough to a shem settlement with a place to leave her safely. From what I understand, shas been through much, and she could use a friend. Do you think you could be that for her?”

Alora looked back to the nameless girl. Suddenly, she saw details she hadn’t noticed before– singe marks on her clothes beneath all the mud, and a redness beneath her eyes like the kind you get from crying. Bruises, too. 

Her lips pulled tight in a grimace, but without much else of a choice, she nodded and stepped forward. “Aneth’ara.” A cough from her mother. “Oh, uh, I mean… Hello? My name is Alora. What’s yours?” 

The girl dropped her gaze, cerulean eyes snapping to the ground. No answer.

Pleadingly, she looked back to her parents, but the look she got in return was enough to face her forward again. Creators, why couldn’t they have picked Nellas for this? She coughed into her hand and added, “I, uh, like the color of your robes.” 

It definitely wasn’t the most eloquent of introductions, but considering the situation, she had thought her response decent. Or at least reasonable. But awkward hesitance quickly turned to panic as the girl’s face pinched with something unpleasant, and to Alora’s utter mortification, her eyes began to well with tears. Rather than words, she was answered with whimpers– stifled behind a stiff lip for a total of a half-minute before it became clear that composure was no longer an option. Fat tears began to roll down her freckled cheeks, her shoulders bunched, and with hardly more warning than that, the girl collapsed in a heap and began to cry. 

~*~*~

It would be days before Alora ever got her answer. Before any of them did. Not her mamae or babae. Not Nellas, once he got to meet her too.

Alora had all but given up on the girl, referring to her as ‘her’ cause what else could she call her, when she received a finch-light tap on her shoulder. The ball of fire she had been concentrating on holding tumbled clean from her hands, fizzling into nothingness before it could even hit the ground.

“...You’re also a mage?” 

The girl’s voice was hardly louder than the meadow grass that swayed around where she sat cross legged on the ground. Alora practically jumped out of her skin to see her, let alone hear her speak. She hadn’t left the shelter of their aravel since her arrival three days ago, and Alora was certain that that was the first time she had ever heard the shemlin talk.

But now she stood there, in the clearing just outside of where her family was camped, dressed in a modest red wool dress that made her hair– now clean– practically glow. 

Out of pure dumb surprise at the sight, she nodded.

“And your family didn’t send you away?” she continued, almost seeming confused. Maybe awed. 

“Oh, uh, no…?” Alora lowered her eyes, cause she really didn’t know what else to do. The girl in front of her startled faster than a fennec, after all. Why she was choosing to talk to Alora of all people- “Why? Did yours?”

A wild guess and a panicked response. But to Alora’s utter shock, after a moment’s hesitation, the girl dipped her head. 

Alora blinked. “Oh.”

Overhead, birch leaves danced in the wind, rustling like the feathers of some giant green and gold bird, and for a moment, that was all she could hear. But just as Alora had accepted that– after all, it had been days without a single word from the girl with crimson hair, and in just this brief handful of seconds she had already gotten two whole questions– the wind died and its howling with it. And in its fading wake, just a single whisper.

“Thalia.”

Stupidly, she responded, “What?”

“My name,” the girl clarified, her cheeks going about as red as her hair. 

“Thalia?”

“Yes.”

Huh.

Unsure of what else to do, Alora nodded. “Nice to meet you. Do you… uh, want to practice with me?”

A pause. Then, maybe because she was also unsure of what to say, she simply nodded back. 

Thalia settled quietly beside her in the grass, barely meeting Alora’s eye. But sure enough, hands outstretched, a ball of fire sprang to life in the heart of her scabbed palms. A flickering mirror of Alora’s own. So together, they sat and held their flames against the dancing wind, and unknowing to either, kindled a family new.

[exalted-dawn-drabbles]

Edddddd happy Friday how something for Alora x Solas 👀?? "Sharing a dessert" for maximum fluff (but bonus points for somehow also making it angsty lmfao) happy writing!

CHALLENGE ISSUED. CHALLENGE ACCEPTED. CHALLENGE DESTROYED. Now weep and regret the choices you have made Niri.

For @dadrunkwriting

Rated G: Angst, ~1k words

A Plate For You | Exalted_Dawn

She felt him arrive before she heard him. 

The Fade always seemed to ripple with his presence nowadays, as if his very being was too big to hold even in a place like this. Alora choked down a hasty breath, steadying herself on her one arm against the food-laden banquet table. 

“There were more people here the first time,” she chuckled, the sound hollow and weak. “Enough that you couldn’t move without bumping someone’s shoulder.”

Her voice echoed in the now abandoned Main Hall of Skyhold, entirely empty of people save for two. His footsteps rang between every word, steady like a metronome as he drew closer. Closer. Painfully closer.

“...I wish you had been there to see it.” 

Too close.

His steps came to a sudden halt, just a few mere paces behind her. Alora felt like she was going to be sick.

“As do I, Vhenan.” 

Her hand balled into a fist, scrunching the pristine tablecloths in her clenched grasp. She knew this wasn’t real, but Alora thanked the Creators anyway that her back was turned to him then. This was the first time since leaving that he’d actually spoken to her. That he stood here like this, in that form. 

She didn’t want their first meeting like this to be through tears.

“I had saved some cake for you, you know. Me and Josie spent an hour picking out the flavors. I had hoped that maybe…” The thought of that fucking plate, clutched optimistically in her hands the entire evening, still haunted her dreams at times. As it was currently– but this was the first time in her memory that he was actually here to share it. “Well I guess better late than never.”

She stood– forced herself to stand– and moved down the line of tables, towards where she  remembered the dessert buffet to be. Metronome steps followed her like a ghost, always lingering just a few feet behind but never drawing too near. That was fine, she supposed. It was more than she had dared to hope for before.

Alora stopped in front of a veritable bounty of sweets, all laid out on perfectly polished trays, untouched and unspoiled by the wear of time. She could recall the flavor of each, traded at first through laughter and elation, and then through tears when the cakes had been placed before her. 

They sat innocent in front of her now, their delicate frills and sugar-sweet powder almost mocking in their sincerity. 

She picked up the platter and turned to face him.

Just like the desserts, time had not touched the gentle, freckle-kissed slopes of Solas’ face. But, then again, she supposed it never truly had. Just another thing she had failed to notice. But she took her time to look at him now, if only because she wasn’t sure if she’d ever get another chance.

He stood draped in golds and greys, a sun-white wolf pelt draped over one shoulder and his clothes tailored to suit every line of his body. There was once a time she would have laughed at the thought of seeing him in anything other than a simple, thread-bear tunic, but seeing him here like this– not just regal, but actually royal? It almost made things make sense. 

She stepped hesitantly, boldly closer and extended the plate for him to take one of his choosing. “I recommend avoiding the chocolatey-looking ones. They’re made with deep-mushroom and anise.”

For a single, heartbroken second, it seemed as though Solas had almost smiled. 

He closed the gap and plucked one from the polished silver– a small cube of butter cake, topped in raspberries and creme. Alora took one of the same– they had been her favorite of the flavors– but even as the crumbs fell from her fingers to the floor, she could not bring herself to eat it. 

“Please don’t leave.” Her eyes stayed glued to Solas out of fear that he’d vanish just for asking. 

He held the perfectly frosted treat in the crux of his palm, his jaw and fingers stiff but not tense. He’d been expecting this. “You know I cannot stay…”

“You can. You know you can,” she insisted lowly, too tired for desperation. “No matter how many times I have to eat cake alone, there will always be a plate here waiting for you.”

“Alora.” He reached out to touch her– to brush aside a strand of her hair, maybe– but before he could, she stepped back and away. Doing so broke her heart, but if she’d let him touch her now, it’d only shatter her completely when he inevitably left with the rising dawn.

She shook her head and smiled sadly. “Not here. Not like this.”

In his eyes, Alora could see the tempest of hurts– guilt, longing, sorrow and regret, but both of them knew that he would not take that final step to bridge the gap. His gaze fell into a cold, distant acceptance, and at last he dropped his hand.

Her head dipped in a grateful nod. “Then maybe next time. But until then, thank you for coming. I really did want to share these with you.”

“Yes,” His shoulders dipped, weighed by disappointment, but he lifted the small cake to his lips regardless,  “As did I.”

Alora smiled, truly smiled, and, closing her eyes, ate her piece of cake in one bite. The flavors were always more vivid in the Fade, but tonight the creme was especially sweet, and the berries especially tart. Like summer days and opened books and the gentle curve of a bow-lipped smirk. 

It was the most delicious thing she’d ever tasted.

Tears slipped silently down her cheeks as she chewed and then swallowed that single, too-small bite of cake. If only it had lasted longer. If only she had savored it.

Then maybe.

But when she opened her eyes, Alora was alone in her bed once more.

[exalted-dawn-drabbles]

*BUSTS IN* Ed i come begging for some angst: ❛ don’t make me do this. ❜ forrrr Alora & Thalia OR Talenna & Thalia??? I'M INTRIGUED OK HIT ME

LOL FORGOT I HAD THIS ONE WRITTEN ALREADY! OOP! So enjoy some sad Alora and Thalia plus a lil bit of Solavellan in there uwu for @dadrunkwriting Rated G: Angst

A Thing or Two About Abandonment | By Exalted_Dawn

“Don’t make me do this.” For all the trembling in Thalia’s fingers, the words came out surprisingly even-toned. Enough that Alora almost, almost, considered backing down.

Instead, though, she continued to stand firm against the staff pointed at her chest; a paralysis glyph shining brightly at its crux. Alora stared at it with a detached sort of sadness, too tired and too emotionally spent to muster anything more. She looked back up to Thalia, meeting that deep blue gaze with open pleading. She couldn’t fight her. Not after Solas. Not her too. 

“I have to go, Thal. Please… just let me go.”

“You can’t,” Thalia bit out, taking another step between her and where Alassa stood, saddled and shoed. “Alora, please. You weren’t there- you didn’t see him. He killed an entire platoon of Qunari warriors without so much as raising a hand. Turned them all into statues! If you go to him-”

“He won’t hurt me.” A lie. He had already done that. “He wouldn’t. But even if he would, I can’t just stand here and do nothing. I have to try. Maybe he didn’t listen to you, but if I could just talk to him-”

“I can’t lose you too, Alora!” Thalia’s voice rung out in the empty stables, disturbing the sleeping peace that had previously held strong within the barn walls. Horses shifted uneasily in their stalls, Alassa himself whickering in discomfort at the sudden noise, but the silence was quick to reclaim its dominion, and everything once again fell still as Thalia’s plea faded into nothingness. The two stood for a moment, each unsure of how to proceed. Each unwilling to take the next step for fear of breaking what cannot be fixed. With quiet, painful acceptance, Alora took a step back, away from her horse, and all at once Thalia seemed to loosen. She sighed, and lowered her staff. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry, it’s just that- I already lost so many people… My family, Blackwall… And you aren’t the only one who Solas left behind. If you leave too, I just…”

Thalia shook her head, her face cast down towards the floor so strands of crimson veiled her face. Even then, though, Alora could tell just by the wobble in her voice that she’d pushed Thalia too far. Her gut twisted with guilt.

“Okay…” Never before had a word spoken felt so heavy. Could it truly be so easy to set aside the first person she had ever given her heart to? To abandon him in just two syllables? “I’m sorry, Thalia. I…I wasn’t thinking. You’re right. I won’t go.” She took a step towards her friend then, pushing aside the staff to drag her into a hug. They both knew a thing or two about being abandoned. Alora couldn’t put Thalia through that again. “I won’t go, I promise. So promise me…”

An impression of a smile in her memory, sweet and somber. Distant eyes veiled by pain. 

No- no she could not leave him either. She leaned further into Thalia, hands grasping. Pleading. She wept through her words. “Promise me that you’ll help me to get him back?”

[exalted-dawn-drabbles]

ed prompts ed prompts ed prompts 🥰🥰🥰 for Solas x Alora: “Magic does not work like that.” “Maybe. But have you ever tried it?” “No, because I’m not bloody insane!”

HEHEHEHE OKAY BUT I LOVE THIS PROMPT THO! I changed up the wording a bit to be a bit more in line with Solas' and Alora's mannerisms but the soul is the same uwu I hope you enjoy this dumb fic about a meta Dragon Age game mechanic XD

for @dadrunkwriting

Rated G: Fluff, Comedy, 479 words

Cliff Diving | Exalted_Dawn

“What if I were to just… cast a Barrier spell and jump down?”

Solas looked at her as if she’d grown a second head. Maybe she had. Alora couldn’t tell anymore. She was just too damn tired. 

And they were standing on a really tall cliff. 

She stared down glumly at its sandy base, where the violent green weave of a Rift shivered and flexed– gaping like a grotesque Fade wound. Demons of various types milled about its radius, unaware of the company waiting to slay them lingering just a few hundred feet above.

Creators, why did it have to be so far down????

“You have to admit it’d be an effective ambush tactic. If I’m lucky, I might even land on one,” She tried, her eyes darting sideways to where the taller elf stood stock still, a harsh scowl leveled at her. 

“Absolutely not.”

“But-”

“As you know, that is not how the Barrier spell works, Aloranna,” he chided, his words falling like a headsman’s axe. “If you do that, you’ll only wind up getting yourself killed.”

Alora flinched at the use of her full name, her mouth pulling into a tight grimace as she stared back down at the steep slope beneath them. It’d take at least an hour of carefully traversing the rain-slicked stones of Storm Coast’s hills to get them down to the beaches, and Alora wanted nothing more than to just find a nice spot to camp, collapse into a dry bedroll, and sleep. A life-threatening drop seemed almost preferable if it meant saving herself the time between now and then. “Maybe,” she grumbled, biting out the admission. “But have you ever tried it? We don’t know- it might work.”

“No,” he repeated again, his voice flat. “Unlike you, I am not so deprived of my senses to ever try such a thing. No matter how soggy.” He reached over to swipe his thumb across her brow, pushing the rain-plastered bangs up and out of her eyes. “I understand that you are tired, vhenan, but it is just one more Rift. Once we close it, we can return to Skyhold.” 

She slouched heavily against his limber frame, feeling all at once the aches and pains she’s been carrying around in her body for days at the mere suggestion of her bed back home. In all her many years of travel on the road, she never would have thought walking would ever be a reason of concern when it came to exhaustion, but Storm Coast had been steadfast in proving her wrong. She missed solid ground. “...Fine then,” she sighed. “One more. But if I collapse on the way down, you’re carrying me the rest of the way back to camp.”

With an almost silent chuckle, he ducked to press a glancing kiss to the crown of her rain soaked head. 

“It is a deal.”

[exalted-dawn-drabbles]

HI IT ME AGAIN this time for Solas x Alora, pushing a strand of hair behind their ear?

Thank you so much @a-song-in-the-stillness and @dadrunkwriting for the lovely prompt! Enjoyed writing this one a lot! It's very fluffy and cute :3

Rated G: Fluff, ~600 words

If You Loved Me | Exalted_Dawn

Alora paused in her readings, shaken from the ink-wrought words by the subtle press of autumn-chilled fingers against her temple. They lingered only for a short moment, enough to put a shiver in her skin, before brushing away a single strand of flaxen hair that had fallen out of place. She huffed slightly. “You know, if you continue to do that for every time it slips, I’ll never be able to get through the story, Solas.”

The elf resting in her lap chuckled, silver eyes bright with bemusement and clearly unmoved by her half-hearted scolding. “Then perhaps you should bind your hair better, so that I do not have to keep fixing it all the time, vhenan.”

“Hmmm… That’s funny. I don’t remember ever asking you to.” Alora dropped her book slightly, thwacking the spot between Solas’ brow with the edge of the cracked leather spine. She doubted it would leave a red mark, but a small rush of self-righteous satisfaction flashed through her chest regardless as she watched the man scrunch his brow in distaste. She giggled to herself, and returned her attention to her novel. “Besides, it's not so easy as that. And if you had any hair, you might remember that.” 

Just as soon as she located her spot on the page, the book was ripped from her hands and snapped promptly shut. 

“Hey!” she yelped, her anchored hand shooting out to chase after her stolen readings, but too slow. 

Solas was still staring up at her from his spot, but this time there was an unmistakable air of challenge in his gaze. He pitched his eyebrow high as he held the book above his head and away from her, just out of reach, a cocky grin hidden just behind the tilt of his lips. 

“You are a poor sport,” she huffed, a scowl pulling at her mouth. “Please, give it back?”

His smile only widened. “If your arms were longer, you would be able to take it from me.”

“And if you loved me, I wouldn’t have to.” 

They both froze. 

The statement sat between them, lingering in the late day, garden air as the two simply held each other’s gaze– the moment almost stretching too long to be comfortable. Alora shifted in her spot, ears bright red as she ducked her head away from beneath the weight of Solas’ attention on her. She’d gotten too comfortable, and that word was still too new. Awkwardly, she cleared her throat. “I, uhm-”

The book appeared again before her face, held aloft between thumb and lightly callused fingers. 

Solas blinked up at her expectantly. 

“Oh,” she breathed, taking it gingerly in her hand as if the pages might scorch her. “Thank you… Ma serannas.”

“Of course,” he murmured, his voice nearly hoarse. The hand that he’d held aloft reached further, stretching towards and then past her face. As if snatching a moth from the sky, he caught another stray strand of her hair– displaced when she had ducked in embarrassment– and tucked it carefully behind her ear. “Please, continue your reading. Do not let me bother you further.”

His hand fell away, and suddenly, silently, she mourned it. 

With bright pink ears, born not entirely from the cold that chewed at her skin, she resettled and found her page again. Quiet fell between them once more as the written words poured from her lips. But as she read, one thought replayed over and over in her mind.

Maybe she would not mind it so much if he bothered her more.