#but also like. having MET mythal. and drank from her well. actually meeting not just the gods but YOUR god and her being confirmed the

[rosykims]

do i make ashara more devoted to mythal post trespasser or do i alienate her from the evanuris entirely. is she immune to propaganda by virtue of how badly solas damaged her ability to believe in anything or is she especially vulnerable to it now bc she still WANTS to believe in anything. is she sporting subtle mythal details in her costume design or is she not

[thechildofbhaalhasawoken]

I’ve been replaying Inquisition with my Lavellan (not Solasmancer, but a Cullenite, if you will) and I really feel like Lavellan should have been able to TALK with people about the temple of Mythal and Mythal herself.

So, here’s a Lavellan rant. Imagine her rant post- Trespasser, right?

Inquisitor Lavellan: UH HI WE NEED TO TALK

Everyone: Who’s ”we”?

Inquisitor: Idk like everyone, listen up, I need to vent

So I got to go to the TEMPLE OF MYTHAL like last week and remember how fired up I was about that?

Everyone: We remember. *eyeroll*

Inquisitor: The more I’ve been thinking about it the less it makes sense in the context of what my people know and think.

There was a dude who was AN ANCIENT ELF and he was acting like an entitled bitch and YOU SOLAS MISTER ’I KNOW MORE ABOUT ELVES THAN YOU SILLY DALISH PEOPLE DO’ REFUSED TO SAY A FUCKING THING

So what was that? What do you know, Solas? Why won’t you tell me?

And then there was the Well of Sorrows that had all the information the ancient elves held, and you drank from it, Morrigan, and all you can tell me about MY PEOPLE in YOUR HEAD is ”I hear voices ooOooOOo” so fuck you too

And speaking of you Morrigan, and your creepy son - I’m sorry Kieran I’m pretty sure it’s not your fault - I’ll tell everyone now what the fuck just happened, ok?

So i’ve been in the Fade in the flesh once before, and that was like the biggest deal ever, right?

Well guess what, people, I was in the Fade FOR A SECOND TIME like ten minutes ago! Yes, you’re right to gasp! Because Morrigan’s creepy son apparently opened the eluvian straight into the Fade! Yes, Cullen, you’re right to groan and facepalm! Like who can DO that?

Ok, so I go after Morrigan and Kieran and who should we meet? WELL FUCKING GODDESS MYTHAL WHOSE TEMPLE WE JUST VISITED!

THAT’S RIGHT I MET AN ACTUAL GOD OF MY PEOPLE TEN MINUTES AGO

and to top that

SHE’S MORRIGAN’S MOM

and to top that

MORRIGAN IS NOW BOUND TO MYTHAL, HER MOTHER, BECAUSE SHE DRANK FROM THE WELL OF SORROWS AND MYTHAL LIKE OWNED THAT SHIT

And Morrigan has been repeating over and over again that her mother said that she cannot take over anyone unwilling

YOU WERE SUPER WILLING TO DRINK FROM THE WELL MORRIGAN

DON’T YOU FUCKING GET IT MORRIGAN

Also! Also! KIERAN was apparently carrying a soul of AN OLD GOD meaning another one of MY PEOPLE

AND MYTHAL TOOK IT? WHAT?

CAN SOMEONE PLEASE EXPLAIN WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON

and also bring me Orlesian tiny cakes and Cullen I need cuddles please because I’m having a breakdown and a crisis of faith ok

Cullen: Get me the cakes, NOW!

Everyone: *scrambling to get cakes and to save themselves*

[iamcayc]

WIP – Goodbyes

Context: I’ve been sporadically working on a fic that mostly indulges my newfound love of Felassan (thank you dear @pikapeppa) and my inability to truly abandon the Solavellan ship 🙃 

It’s also been a way for me to work out the kinks of a novel I’ve been mentally writing for about a decade at this point. The magical concepts/world building blends surprisingly well with the DA universe so I said fuck it and fell D E E P down the fanfiction hole and began writing again (after maybe 12 years of avoidance thanks to my graphic design “career”). 

I’ll eventually get the actual story on AO3, but wanted to dip my toe into the water of this fandom’s fanfiction pool 😇 be gentle! haha.

---

Gentle, loving fingers pulled through the thick blend of waves and coils of dark mahogany as the dawn snuck into the darkened cottage through the windows and copse of trees that surrounded the home. Felassan kept his eyes trained on her face as he willed his fingers to memorize the feel of her hair as it sifted across his skin; a feeling more luxurious than any of the silks found across Elvhenan. An affectionate smile pulled at his mouth as he watched her stir, her nose wrinkling as soon as the morning light kissed her skin and her eyelids slowly fluttering open, meeting his with a haze of sleep still clouding the cognac brown of her eyes.

“Good morning, ma’vunlea,” he murmured with a brush of his lips to her forehead. He felt her softly curved body stretch languidly against his as she continued to struggle into wakefulness. A bitter, taut snap of dread lashed through him as he drank in the sight of her, his arms tightening their hold on her instinctively.

Karys huffed a laugh against his neck. “I continue to stand by my statement that there has never been nor will there ever be a good morning.”

He felt her lips press a kiss against the column of his neck before gently nudging him so she could peer up at him. Despite the soft smile playing on her lips, he saw the sadness dimming the light in her eyes. There were a thousand more things he wanted to share with her; a lifetime of nights falling asleep in each other’s arms only to wake up just as hopelessly tangled as the dawn broke. But all of that was cut short, and Felassan still didn’t quite understand why.

He stroked the high rise of one of her cheekbones, now free of Mythal’s branching vallaslin. His lips quirked as he recalled the nights they spent sipping summer wine in bed while she redrew the vallaslin of each Evanuris into something far more accurate to their sparkling personalities. He never tired of watching her weave spells and wards, or discussing the intricacies of her spellweaving; he especially never tired of watching her resist the urge to roll her eyes when Fen’Harel took it upon himself to explain magic to anyone in their proximity.

“I told you this was going to happen,” Karys said, her lips brushing his sweetly before she slid from the bed. “Have you seen my smalls?”

The violet-eyed mage shook his head with a wry smile as he watched the love of his life amble around the cozy cottage they had built together, hunting for the elusive pair of underwear in nothing but one of his shirts. 

A shirt I will likely never see again, knowing her, he thought with a soft chuckle. He pulled on his pants absently, loosely tying the laces while making his way over to where Karys fussed with her hair in a polished mirror far too ornate for the simple furnishings of their woodland oasis. 

“Would you like to be the one to tell Mythal that the gift she gave us clashes with the decor?” Karys had asked with an arched brow as she hung the mirror just over their shared wash basin. Felassan hadn’t even bothered to reply, knowing that it was a lost cause, no matter how gaudy the craftsmanship was.

His arms snaked their way around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder as he gazed at her reflection. She smelled like roses on a rainy morning with a hint of citrus and him, an intoxicating fragrance that he willed into his memory. 

Karys lowered her hands, sliding them along his forearms as she leaned back against him. Their eyes met in the mirror, longing plain as day in both of their expressions. 

“It won’t be forever,” she said softly, her grip on his arms tightening with reassurance. “When your task is done, and you’re finally free of him, I can bring you with me. I swear it.”

Felassan pressed a line of kisses along her shoulder, up the column of her neck to her ear. “Just so long as we leave that heinous mirror behind, I’ll follow you anywhere, ma’vunlea.”

Her laughter rang out in the cottage, her head falling back against her shoulder as a testament to the sincerity of her amusement. With a shift in his arms, she turned to wrap her arms loosely around his neck, staring up into his face with adoration, and Felassan’s heart stuttered.

“Fine, we can leave the mirror,” she replied with a playful roll of her eyes. Her expression sobered as she glanced out one of the windows, likely noting the rising sun and the passage of what little time they had left. 

“Does he suspect anything?” Karys asked as her eyes slid back to his. He traced the edges of her ears, recalling his initial fascination with their smaller, more delicate shape when she finally bared her true self to him. There was no small part of Felassan that preened at knowing a wealth of things that Fen’Harel knew nothing about, even if those secrets were very likely to be the death of him if they were ever revealed.

“No, unless Mythal has decided to chase a whim and share your secret with Fen’Harel and destroy everything you’ve worked to achieve by aiding his rebellion,” he replied with a wry smile. Her warm eyes rolled, catching the morning light in the golden facets of her irises. 

“Her sense of self-preservation is strong enough to prevent that from happening, at least for the foreseeable millennia.” She pressed another soft kiss to his lips before stepping away from his embrace and into her leggings. “I checked the wards surrounding this clearing and the cottage yesterday. The Veil will not bring them down, no matter how thoroughly he fucks up his own plot. Should you ever need to flee, or begin your uthenera unexpectedly, you will be safe here.”

He tried not to think about the endless line of questioning that would teeter on unbridled rage from Fen’Harel once it became known that one of his closest allies and one of his best spies vanished “while on a mission for Mythal.” Felassan was not blind to the longing looks his mentor and friend gave Karys when he thought no one was looking, either. Her disappearance would not simply be a tactical setback, but an emotional blow, no matter how dismissive she was about Fen’Harel’s feelings towards her. 

The rustling of a breeze passing through the trees around them filled the comfortable quiet between them as Felassan watched her pull on the leather boots she had hidden away beneath their shared bed. She flexed her foot, rolling her ankle to and fro as though remembering how to wear shoes after decades in footwraps, if anything at all. Satisfied, she rose from the bed and looked around the cottage. He watched her eyes flit from item to item, smiling to himself when her gaze lingered on things that held sentimental value and brusquely moving on when the memories attached were particularly unpleasant.

“Do you remember how to reach me when you’re ready?” she asked as she turned to face him once again. His eyes dropped to her hands, her fingers twisting the laces of his captive shirt absently—the only outward sign of her mounting panic. She’s always terrible at goodbyes.

He ignored her question and moved to his cloak, fishing around one of the hidden pockets for the gift he had commissioned years ago. 

“Close your eyes,” he instructed as he drew his hands behind his back. A grin broke out on his face as her eyes narrowed in suspicion before she obeyed. The gift was a wholly unnecessary gesture; Felassan knew this. But having heard the stories of Karys’s people, their customs, their symbols of a bond between two lovers—he refused to let her continue into this period of separation without some physical reminder that his heart belonged to her, and her alone.

Felassan brushed a stray curl away from her face and tucked it behind her ear before trailing his fingers down her left arm, bringing her hand to his lips.

Kissing her fingers first, he slipped the delicate gold and silver band on her finger. “Open them.”

He could feel her hand tremble slightly in his hold, a knot forming in his stomach as doubts flooded his mind. Was this too presumptuous? Would she even like the design he had given the artisan?

Tears bloomed in her eyes as she looked at her hand, the twisted strands of gold and silver working their way around her finger until they embraced a cluster of amethysts that formed the shape of a nine-pointed star. 

Karys looked at him. “What… what the fuck?”

Felassan blinked in surprise. Then, he laughed before pulling her into his arms and kissing her. Her body melted into his, falling into familiar alignment before she pulled back slightly to frown.

“Felassan, what is this?” she asked him, waving the fingers of her left hand in his face.

“What does it look like to you?” he replied, earning a sharp pinch to his side. He yelped, but maintained his hold on her.

“Do not get smart with me, felasil.” She dropped her forehead against his chest, hiding her face from him. “Why must you make this so much harder than it already is?”

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head before leaning back, holding her face between his hands to lock her gaze with his. His thumbs brushed away the traitorous tears that slipped down her cheeks.

“I know better than to think our lives will follow the plan we have set for ourselves, ma’vunlea,” he said softly. “But I refuse to let you leave my sight without something to remind you of the man who is hopelessly and irrefutably yours, no matter how many centuries it takes before we are reunited.”

“Silver-tongued rogue,” she muttered before catching his lips with her own. Her kiss was laced with equal parts lust and sadness, her hands roaming his chest and back, as if committing every part of him to her memory. 

Not to be outdone, his fingers twisted themselves in her curls as he nipped her lower lip, eliciting a sweet, breathy moan from her before she obediently opened her mouth to him. He grinned against her mouth before teasing her tongue with his as he slowly pushed her back against the wall. His thigh wedged its way between her legs as his lips trailed down her neck to her collarbones, his teeth scraping across her skin lightly as she ground her core against his thigh with enough abandon to fray Felassan’s control. 

“Stay,” he growled against her rosy mouth. “Just one more night.”

Panting, Karys pulled back and pushed against his chest with her hands with a shake of her head. They both knew one more night wouldn’t be enough. It would never be enough. 

He took a grounding step back, running his hands through his raven-black hair with slow, calming breaths. His blood was singing for her, his cock responding in kind. She let her head rest against the wall, her eyes closed as she caught her breath. The position did nothing to calm his need to touch her, but he willed himself still. The longer he delayed the inevitable, the worse it was going to be in the end. Sometimes, the way of the slow arrow wasn’t worth the agony it brought.

With clearer eyes, though still tinged with sadness, Karys pushed off the wall and took up her glaive from its resting spot in the corner, her aura resonating through single-room structure. Felassan nearly purred as he felt her aura tangle with his, the swell of his own magic buoying within. 

She pressed her palm against the wooden door and wordlessly sent a flare of magic against it. Exhaling slowly, she opened the door to reveal a bright, albeit foggy vista that was in no way the forest that surrounded their hidden home. The Crossroads felt, rather than looked familiar to Felassan; gone were the blossoming trees and golden light, but silhouettes of eluvians haunted the mist that crept along a soundless breeze.

Karys turned to him, cupping his cheek with her left hand and brushing her thumb along the lower part of his vallaslin. Nothing but love shone in her eyes as she smiled at him.

“I love you, Felassan.” She kissed him slowly, sweetly. “My heart will always belong to you, never forget that.”

He pressed his forehead to hers. “Ar lath ma, vhen’an’ara. I’ll see you sooner than you think.”

With one last kiss, salty from one or both of their tears, Karys stepped back and through the door. Her eyes never left his as she raised her glaive and let it strike the ground. Brilliant white threads erupted from the edges of the door, snaking their way to the handle and slowly—and eerily—closed the door.

ma’vunlea - my sunlight

[adrenaline-revolver]

Same to you buddy, all three acts. :p

hm. okayAct 1!1. Who did your Inquisitor believe they saw in the fade? Did they think it was Andraste or if they believe in other gods, did they think it was a god of their own faith?Aurora honestly never stopped to think about it, whatever it was was helping her.2. Did your Inquisitor want to seek the Chantry’s aid or did they do it grudgingly? What relationship does your Inquisitor have with the chantry and why?It was absolutely grudgingly. She hadn’t exactly heard good things about them before the events of the game and was not impressed with what she saw.3. What drove your Inquisitor to track down either the mages or the templars? Was it a personal decision or solely what your Inquisitor believed would be best to close the Breach? She knew from the beginning that she was going to go with the mages. She saw it as an opportunity to truly help them and her best chance at closing the Breach4. How did your Inquisitor react in the aftermath of either Champions of the Just or In Hushed Whispers? Were they shaken by the confrontation with the Envy demon/dwell on the dark future they saw in Redcliffe or were they unfazed?She was deeply shaken by the future she and Dorian where sent to. She hasn’t mentioned it to Dorian but she still worries about it. She wonders if just because she may never experience that world if it doesn’t still exist. 

5. What did your Inquisitor do to the templars/mages? Conscription, alliance or banishment/disbanding? Why?

The mages where allied with. She figured it would bother the humans but proposed that it be like probation. If they can seal the Breach and in general fight for the inquisition with hardly any trouble than it proves what the mages where trying to tell them all along.

6. Was your Inquisitor uncomfortable with their title or did they embrace it? Would they have chosen to join the Inquisition if they had been given the option?

She didn’t really like the title herald of andraste. It felt weird to be the herald of a woman she didn’t believe in. Inquisitor was a lofty title that she wasn’t sure she deserved but one that she felt suited a bit more. She would have likely joined for the sake of closing the breach.Act 2!1. What did your Inquisitor think of the Hawke they met? Did they clash? Were they friends? Was your Inquisitor in awe of the champion?

She was a touch starstruck but did her best to hide it. She wanted to hear all about Vixen Hawke’s adventures but played it cool. They got to be pretty fast friends thanks to Varric starting the two on the topic of Cullen’s hair.2. Which warden ally (Loghain, Stroud or Alistair) did your Inquisitor meet? What became of the warden ally and why did your Inquisitor choose to spare/sacrifice them?She thought that Stroud was a brave and decent man. A shining example for Wardens to follow. But she still couldn’t let her new friend stay. She knows Hawke will be frustrated, but once Hawke sees Fenris again she’ll forget all about it. 3. How did your Inquisitor react to the Nightmare and the spirit of the Divine? Did these encounters affect them in the long-term? If yes, how so?She was more pissed than anything. Yes, the prospect of her failing was terrifying but to go after her companions was infuriating. The spirit of the Divine was actually really reassuring. Something positive from the fade wants her to do this. And she was thrilled to be able to help Leliana afterwards.4. What was your Inquisitor’s final impression of Warden-Commander Clarel? What happened to the Wardens, banishment or an alliance, and how did your Inquisitor decide what to do with them?Her heart broke for Clarel. Yes she made terrible desperate decisions but when faced with the truth she gave her life to right them. She debated banishment but if she extended a chance at redemption to the mage rebellion then it would only be right to ally with the wardens as well. She pretended to listen to the ass-chewing she got about blood magic from almost everyone. 

 5. What did your Inquisitor think of Orlais before going to the Winter Palace? Had they crossed paths with The Game or any Orlesians before?She thought they where all stuck up Shems that built a kingdom over a graveyard. Other than Leliana and Viviene her experience with them and the game was very minimal. 6. Which potential leader of Orlais (Celene, Briala or Gaspard) did your Inquisitor approve of the most? Which one did they end up backing? Was it a choice based off of personal wants or the necessary choice to win the war?She didn’t quite approve of any of them honestly. She ended up backing Celene and reuniting her with Briala. This gave her the stability she needed from their ally and opened a door to furthering the rights of elves in Orlais. 7. Did your Inquisitor stay in contact with any of the Orlesian leaders (if they weren’t killed)? Would they ever consider willingly returning to Orlais?She stayed in contact with Briala. Both out of personal interest in her as a friend and to ensure that she’s being treated well.8. Does your Inquisitor have any regrets about their decision on the fate of Orlais, who they chose to rule? What would they have changed if they could?

She wishes she could have arranged a marriage between Celene and Briala rather than a secret relationship. She’s well aware that its wishful thinking and fantasy but the prospect of an elvehn woman as Empress Consort! Act 3!1. What became of Corypheus’ generals, either Calpernia or Samson? What did your Inquisitor think of them? Misguided but redeemable, or evil?She found Samson pitiful honestly. When told of his dependencies and disgraces she couldn’t help but feel this was a misguided attempt at redeeming himself and a chance to get another hit.2. How did your Inquisitor react to the Well of Sorrows? Did it mean anything to them? Did they feel a connection to the history it contained?She was completely awed. The mere idea of it would be enough to make her tear up but to look at it sitting right in front of her. Hear its whispers.3. Who drank from the well, Morrigan or your Inquisitor, and what were your Inquisitor’s reasons for who drank? Were they fearful of Morrigan? Did they desire the secrets of the well?Despite being begged not to she drank from the well. It wasn’t about a distrust of Morrigan, infect she quite liked her, but the promise of knowledge about her people. As someone who was raised with the intention of becoming a Keeper it was impossible to deny. 4. What did your Inquisitor think of Flemeth? Were they suspicious of her powers? Are they curious about her?She’s incredibly curious about Flemeth but also quite wary. Anyone with the amount of power that this woman wields is dangerous. Even if she truly is Mythal.5. What were your Inquisitor’s plans after defeating Corypheus? Did they intend to abandon their role as Inquisitor or remain with the Inquisition? After defeating Corypheus her ideal was to right the wrongs done by him. Continue working as inquisitor while removing the red lyrium, restoring peace, and helping people.6. Was defeating Corypheus a personal goal for your Inquisitor by the end of Inquisition? What was their first reaction/emotion immediately after the death of Corypheus?Absolutely. She wanted to end the ass with her own hands. He’d claimed too many lives for it to not be personal. The first thing she felt was relief. Complete and total relief. It was soon followed by worry and crushing heartbreak when she notices who wasn’t there to congratulate her.