#dimitri enallasani

[musingmycelium]

hehehe oc kiss week!!! @impossible-rat-babies kiss kiss

Jasmine. It covers the lingering stench of blood where the soiled rags lie piled in the corner of the tent. Still damp. Sweat soaked and pink they’ll lie there through the morning, already too far past dawn to care about cleaning them up further. 

Night is the time to move in the Hissing Wastes. Easier for a small scouting party to be lost among the dunes when there is no light except the crescent of a single moon to see by. 

Easier, too, for a handful of Venatori to stumble across them when they’re already lost. 

It had been a quick thing. Lightning in the dark. Small mercies Renenh counts now where he pushes back a lock of hair from Dimitri’s forehead, the dawn light suffusing the tent walls. Dried petals spilt across the rug making up the floor, no time yet to place them back in Dimitri’s pockets and the scent of jasmine is strong. Strong enough.

There’s a hole in Dimitri’s favorite travel shirt. Frayed edges and dark stains in the fabric, it will be easy enough to repair when they return to Skyhold but Renenh curses the fact it is there at all. If he’d been faster.

Dimitri’s good eye finds his, warm brown and seeking, brow furrowed. ‘Only a new scar’, he’d said, bleeding into the sand when Renenh had pressed his hand to his heated skin, ‘maybe not even that’.

The sand clings to him now, in the rising light of morning. Turns to grit. Renenh’s fingers cling to Dimitri’s temple just the same. Unable to leave his skin behind. 

Lightning in the desert doesn’t always come from the sky, nor even the ground. Under the silver moon, barely enough light to see the next rise of dunes, it can be conjured from the end of a staff raised high. Bridging the gap. Blinding in intensity, the heat of it had seared Renenh’s skin. Blades in the encroaching dark. There had been three of them against a pair, and there was no clearing his eyes to find them again. 

Unsteady footholds in the sand, blink away lingering streaks of light. One of the mages had screamed, but the only sound now came from the whistling wind in the dunes.

Renenh breathes in jasmine. Leans down to let his forehead rest against Dimitri’s temple. 

There had been two against two. Moonlight reflected off the staff blade arcing down and Renenh caught it with a block, had easily twisted it and stepped into range. Almost too easy, but he was too slow to follow before lightning split the air again to his left and there was nothing but the aching darkness. 

A shout. One in the dark where Renenh could not see, if he had been faster, just a moment just a heartbeat faster. Lightning behind his eyelids, still there when he blinked. Shapes, nothing more, a heap on the ground and a mage with a bladed staff splitting the moon. He had struck near blind, moonlight no aide, his guard weak and instead of fending off the Venatori’s strike entirely it landed to the side. 

Far enough, fast enough then. Renenh’s blade sank into flesh and the heat from the mage’s blood soaked into the sands.

 The sand lingers. Dawn rises and Renenh presses a kiss to Dimitri’s temple. Small mercies granted in the dark, small wounds to tend. His hand cups Dimitri’s face, lips lingering in sunlight, blood under his nails. Ozone lingers in Dimitri’s hair and Renenh doesn’t have to close his eyes to see the lightning still. But he breathes in the scent of jasmine and lets the light fade.

[sunshinemage]

Inktober 2019 - Day #24

Featuring @goblin-deity‘s Dimitri <3

[eyeofmud]

patreon tier reward for @goblin-deity

It shouldn’t be so bright. It’s the only thought in Bull’s head. It shouldn’t be so bright. Sunlight he remembers from Seheron, the kind of light that glints in the corner of his eyes and reflects off the air and burns his skin to a crisp if he isn’t careful. Frozen in time it shines on the sand kicked up by Dimitri’s scrambling feet. 

Copper and rust and blue specks of sunlight. White hair flying into Dimitri’s face, his open mouth and wide eyes. There’s a moment right before something truly awful happens when Bull swears time stops working just so you know, down the marrow of your bones, how deeply the next heartbeat will hurt. And how little you can do to stop it from happening. 

But watch. 

It’s going to be too far. It had taken them hours to go around the gorge, there isn’t a safe way down. Bull can hear the blood rushing through his ears and he could almost swear it’s the wind whistling through Dimitri’s hair in the moment before Bull loses sight of him completely. 

He blinks and Dimitri is gone. 

Time returns as Bull sucks in a breath so sharply his teeth ache with it and when he yells its a roar, a challenge. The venatori Dimitri was fighting only has a second to enjoy the triumph of a well placed trap before Bull reaches him. And cleaves him in two. Blood and bits of flesh cling to Bull’s greataxe and the too hot sun blinds him with the crimson glare off the blade. 

It shouldn’t be so bright. Not, not like this. 

He doesn’t hear Dimitri land, he doesn’t hear anything except the hammering of his heart in his chest. For a brief, jarring beat Bull means to throw himself down there to reach Dimitri. Imprinted on his vision all Bull can see is the outline of Dimitri against the empty nothingness of the air, sand flashing around him like a halo in the sunlight. Blinding him. 

Bull’s seen bad falls before. He knows how bones can shatter and flesh can smear and it nearly stops him cold to think of Dimitri at the bottom of the gorge. In the shadows, broken and crumpled and splattered. Sand in his hair and blood on his lips. 

His knees hit the scorching sand, his brace scalding against his bad leg, and this time when Bull yells its a name. A plea. “Dimitri!”

Silence. Nothing but the howling wind and the burn of Bull’s eyes. “Kadan!” Again, again and again, Bull shouts until he’s hoarse. Until the sunlight catches the sand in a fractal of crimson tinged sky blue shine. The sun shouldn’t be shining. This can’t be happening. 

Its only been moments. Barely any time at all and yet Bull can feel the pull of years between the last glimpse he had of Dimitri and this moment with the howling wind the only sound coming from the gorge. It shouldn’t be so bright. 

[morticianart]

Embrace Cute and lovely couple Dimitri and Isaac for @goblin-deity! Thank you so much for commissioning me (♡˙︶˙♡) Commissions | Ko-fi | Twitter | Instagram | VK

[buttsonthebeach]

Unspoken Stories

I was so thrilled that @goblin-deity commissioned me to write about Dimitri and Bull! I love their quiet love and it was a joy to portray it here.

My Ko-Fi || My Commissions (Slots closed for now, but will reopen in June 2019)

Pairing: Dimitri Enallasani x the Iron Bull

Rating: General

**********************

The Temple of Mythal had lingered for thousands of years after the fall of Elvhenan, and so it was not a surprise to Dimitri that it lingered in his mind. He sat in his study, high in his tower in Skyhold, and he looked at the battle plans that covered all the scenarios they had dreamed up for their final confrontation with Corypheus - what to do if he attacked Skyhold directly. Possible locations where they could take the fight to him - and yet he pictured everything he had seen in the Arbor Wilds. The glowing blue paths that he had walked on with hesitant, reverent feet. Sera’s mockery and disdain, his growing unease with it. The magic that absolutely drenched everything they touched, the way tendrils of it kept hooking into his own mana and tugging, like the creeping vines that had overtaken so much of the grand stone.

Maybe that had been the Well all along. Calling to him. Inviting him. It hunkered down in the back corners of his mind now, whispering things he did not understand.

Dimitri shook his head to clear it, and tried to refocus on the plans drawn up before him. These were all best case scenarios, assuming that they had time to bring their forces back from the Arbor Wilds before he struck. He had already looked at the less optimistic ones, where their forces did not. If he was Corypheus, he too would strike now, when the Inquisition was spread thin. And after he finished familiarizing himself with the battle plans, there were reports to read from agents in the Frostback Basin and the Storm Coast…

Bull was nearly silent when he needed to be, which was a marvel considering the sheer scale of the man, but he chose not to be silent as he entered Dimitri's quarters. He was quiet, but he made his presence known. Dimitri's shoulders lifted just at the sight of him, his nearness, but he kept his eyes on the report, wanting to absorb the last details of what agents had uncovered about the Avvar of Stone Bear Hold. He knew Bull would wait, and he did, silent and calm and comfortable in the chair across from Dimitri's. It had not always been that way with them - there had been physicality before, but no intimacy, and Dimitri was rapidly learning to appreciate the intimacy in the wake of all he'd seen and learned. The Mark crackled in his hand and he flexed and closed it, willing it to remain stable.

"Okay there, kadan?" Bull asked. He was resting one arm on the table, his hand loosely curled, not quite an offering but close to it. Dimitri put down his quill and reached out to rest his hand on Bull's.

"Fine. Did the Chargers train well today?”

"Ah. They did okay. Grim and Skinner managed to bloody each other's noses over some nonsense or another but Krem got them sorted out. How much longer have you got here, do you think?"

Dimitri sighed, pulling his hand back from Bull's, immediately missing the warmth and strength of those scarred fingers.

"All night."

Bull reached out and caught his hand again. "Now, that I can't stand for. I have a reservation for us."

Dimitri could not help a sputtering laugh at the idea. "Really, now?"

"Yes. Krem is holding our usual table at the Herald's Rest. It was the fanciest I could get on short notice, you know."

Dimitri sighed, drumming his fingers against the table, his mind already wheeling back to the paperwork before him, the mountain it represented, the people who relied on him, and how he could not fail them. The Well’s whispers surged a little louder in his mind, his magic buzzed a little closer to the surface of his skin.

“Kadan,” Bull said, voice low.

“I can’t,” Dimitri said, fist closed now, no more finger drumming, because it was too much like the drumbeat of his mind. “I have so much that needs doing.”

Bull leaned back in his chair. “You know, I heard that a lot in Seheron. Shopkeeps and butchers and cobblers all claiming they had no time for a night off or a late morning. Lot of them ended up dead without ever really living, I think.”

“Were you any better?” Dimitri said, voice gentle. Seheron was a livid bruise across Bull’s heart, one that would never heal. Dimitri had his own memories of the island - the heat, the violence, the desperation, the disasters. Little Daniel.

“No. But I’m trying to be. You should too.”

Dimitri felt the possible arguments bubbling up through his chest. There really was every possibility that Corypheus might strike soon, and he needed to know what to do, needed a thorough understanding of every single option, because he would be damned if they suffered and lost the way Clan Enallasani had back in the Anderfels - over, and over, and over again, an endless retreat until their backs hit a wall - because he would be damned if Corypheus came for Skyhold, if anything happened to Daniel and Ellie, his children, more precious than anything else.

"I have to be prepared," Dimitri said. "For Daniel and Ellie's sake, if nothing else. I’ve had to talk to them about it, you know. About what to do if the castle is attacked."

“I get that,” Bull said, neutrally, evenly. Then, with more warmth. “You are a good father, kadan.”

Dimitri sat in silence a moment longer. He traced the sharp angles of Bull’s face, let his gaze linger on his sea-colored eyes.

“Very well,” Dimitri said, rising. “Let’s go.”

It was a chilly night, but Bull radiated warmth, as always, and though they did not hold hands as they walked to the Herald’s Rest there was an ease between them that had not been there previously, in their early friendship or even their early dalliance, when everything was sex and sex was nothing. Dimitri found himself wanting to lean into that warmth, to continue his study Bull’s face and the stories written there. They were neither of them young men, and they had bodies that showed it, and that was perfect. Dimitri would take the stories over untouched youth any day.

The tavern was lit with the amber glow of guttering torches and heated by all of the bodies within it, and the sweet, sticky smell of mead hit Dimitri’s nose at once, followed by the sour smell of unwashed bodies and cheap ale, and the table Krem had saved for them was terribly cramped in the corner, especially with Bull’s bulk, but Dimitri still found himself easing into the space, ignoring the glances his presence drew. It only got easier once Bull returned with their own mead, and slouched fully into his seat so their thighs touched beneath the table. It was such an easy intimacy, then, to drop his hand to Bull’s knee, and simply touch him. Bull looked at him and smiled.

“Anything you want to talk about?”

“No.”

“Good.”

They settled into the moment. Dimitri could not help but think that the intimacy between them like the vines on the walls of the Temple of Mythal. They did not conceal the cracks, the wounds, the age of the place. But they filled in the gaps. Dimitri and Bull were men who had lived rough lives but here, in this bar, in the hazy light and surrounded by the chatter of strangers, they could find tenderness again. Dimitri centered himself in that tenderness, let his breath expand to fill every corner of his chest. He took long, slow sips of his mead and tried to push the images of the different plans for defending Skyhold from his mind.

"You're getting a pretty little flush," Bull said, his grin lopsided, and Dimitri's heart beat faster at the sight of it.

"Good mead. Good company. How could I not get a little flushed?"

Bull laughed, the sound broad and gravelly. It was quiet, though - not his big, booming laugh, which would have drawn looks from every corner of the bar. It was for Dimitri's ears alone, and he wished suddenly that he could bottle the sound, uncork it whenever he needed. Maybe he could, if they could make it through the end of this war. If the Anchor didn't kill him. If the Ben Hassrath did not send more agents after Bull. It was the first time in some months that Dimitri had really thought of an after to all this. He did not long for it, not even with his blood warm with alcohol and the smell of Bull's oiled leather harness and vitaar filling his nose. He knew he did not have space for such longing, such forlorn wistfulness. His life had taught him that long before he fell from the sky at the Temple of Sacred Ashes.

But he did, perhaps, have space for hope.

Dimitri lifted Bull's hand from the table, cradling it in both of his own, smoothing his thumbs down the weathered creases of it, feeling the places where the muscles were knotted from swinging his heavy axe. Bull let out a low, rumbling sound of enjoyment. Dimitri smiled, pleased, pressed his thumbs into the calloused grey skin.

"Good?" He asked.

"You always are."

Dimitri's smile grew broader. He lifted Bull's hand and kissed the palm, and breathed in the scent that was just Bull.

"Another round?" Bull asked when Dimitri released his hand.

"I think not. One was enough."

"Agreed."

They sat in silence a while longer. Songs broke out in different corners of the tavern, coming and going like summer rainstorms. A fight threatened to start between a Warden and what appeared to be a Dalish recruit but it was quickly silenced. Bull draped one arm over Dimitri's shoulders and Dimitri sank into him, letting Bull take all his weight. He went a step further, eventually - sliding across the distance so that he was in Bull's lap at last, able to feel each full breath that swelled in his lover's chest. Bull put his arms around him, pressed a kiss to his hair, ran his hand absently up and down Dimitri’s thigh.

“You smell good,” Bull murmured after a moment.

Dimitri hummed in reply.

As the moments passed, he rested his head in the crook of Bull's neck, and he finally let the reports and battle plans slip fully from his mind. He sat in the tavern with the man he loved and he watched the world go by and left no room in his thoughts for anything other than a small, simple hope for more nights like this one in the years to come.

[veridium]

D I M I T R I    E N A L L A S A N I 

Maleficarum // Anderfels Elf // Mage of Many Dangerous and Wonderful Talents

Talk about a showstopping character. Thank you to @goblin-deity for giving me the privilege of commissioning me and allowing me to get to know Dimitri. I was in awe of his travels and tastes alike. How magnificent! Hope you like it, friend!

[hurl-a-can]

Tbh the other day I was thinking about Dimitri and Das meeting/being around each other and how it would be a lot of Das jumping from thing to thing and Dimitri struggling to keep up/understand what he was talking about five topics ago since he can rarely keep up with normal speech, much less Das and his fast talking pace XD

XD It probably wouldn’t help much that Das speaks in a pretty heavily accented Trade...I feel like Das would notice Dimitri’s kinda struggling to keep up with his shit and he’d really try to tone it down and slow it down - and he’d do pretty fine on some days but fail horribly (or completely forget) on others.He’d be like...‘You gotta tell me, mate. If me mouth takes a tumble down a rocky slope, y’know. It runs faster than me brain, it does. You gotta smack me on the head or snap yer fingers at me or summit...I never know when I’ve already talked too much, y’know... There was this one time when old man Darro woke up with a bastard of a headache and... Wait... have I even told you about Darro? You’d love Darro, I swear, he---...’yadda yadda yadda yadda...:-)

[impossible-rat-babies]

--> Enallasani Family: Daniel | Ellinor | Dimitri

[haloneshiral]

Commission of Dimitri Enallasani for @goblin-deity ! Thank you for your patience :D

Ko-fi  | Art Blog

[sulevinblade]

get to know you meme 2.0

Tagged by @apostatetabris, but this version has a bunch more questions so we’re at it again c:

Relationship Status:.married!

Favourite Colour: blue, orange, bronze, yellow

Languages spoken: English, some Spanish

Skill few people know you have: I can drive stick o7

Top Ships: Man I don’t even remember what I said last time so time to give some love out: Ellinor Trevelyan ( @bitchesofostwick ) / Cullen Alexi Trevelyan ( @jawsandbones ) / Cullen Dimitri Enallasani ( @goblin-deity ) / Iron Bull Ellanis Tabris ( @apostatetabris ) / Zevran Alec Surana ( @raymurata ) / Zevran Sulevin Solomon Trevelyan ( @mocha-writes​ ) / Dorian Mahon Lavellan ( @rennybu ) / Dorian Padi Hawke ( @gremlinquisitor ) / Sebastian Cadence Tabris ( @talesfromthefade ) / Anders Halesta Lavellan ( @ladylike-foxes ) / Solas **not to be considered exhaustive by any means but I feel like I’m obnoxious tagging you all so I’m just gonna move on Lipstick or Chapstick: chapstick always

Something you’d like to buy/get: I really want a pearly white nail polish

Country you’d love to visit: Iceland!

Last 5 Songs: /opens spotify, what in the what hmm

ghost in the moon, avantasia kill the sun, xandria stand by me, ben e. king on the turning away, pink floyd sail away, ben hazelwood

Last movie: Still Endgame, currently watching SJ vs COL

Currently reading: keeping in mind my marked for later page is extensive: A World Alone, Ellinor Trevelyan/Cullen Tale of a Tabris, Ellanis Tabris/Zevran Recreate His Worldly Glory, Padi Hawke/Sebastian, no link bc I’m the only one allowed to read it yet 

[musingmycelium]

And ♡! :D

Dimitri: Da’ean, you seem to have taken over an amount of the courtyard and turned it into a sizable garden.

Da’ean: Have I? If I could I’d have the whole thing set up as one but someone keeps telling me it’s to be a holy space.

Dimitri: Somehow I doubt that will do much to stop you.

Da’ean: As if there could be anything more holy than actively interacting with the Creator’s gifts. The revered mother can deal with walking among some flowers. 

Dimitri: They do make the air far friendlier.

_

Da’ean: Have you given any thought to my suggestion?

Dimitri: You’ve given quite a few. But about the newest one, yes. I have.

Da’ean: I’ve a handful of songbooks, and can always write more. You’re welcome to share them whenever you’d like.

[impossible-rat-babies]

Darva Lavellan:

Dimitri Enallasani:

(before he gonna wreck some fucking shit)

Reblog with your Inquisitors reaction to finding out they were going to lose their arm.

Sae Lavellan: 

[impossible-rat-babies]

Something of a confrontation between Dimitri and Cassandra that quickly spiraled away from me and into this, so here you all go!

--

“You knew a way to stop tranquility this whole time?!”

“Contrary to belief, I am not required to tell you everything, Seeker!”

“You know what we saw at Caer Oswin, what the book said! If you had spoken otherwise, shared what you knew Inquisitor!” Cassandra fumed and Dimitri held his ground, cutting her off.

“Fenedhis, it was a choice Ellinor and I made together, and I will not tell you just because you will it! I am not your charge, nor under your thumb Seeker Pentaghast!”

Dimitri shouted and Cassandra grew quiet, her breathing the only other sound in Dimitri’s quarters. He planted his hands against his desk, shoulders hunching, watching her turn to pace and fume with anger like a jungle cat in a cage too small.

They had played this game many times before, the results always disastrous. It never turned out well when the more Cassandra pushed, the tighter Dimitri held his secrets, his knowledge. He wouldn’t satisfy her need to know; it wasn’t her business in many circumstances. Oft she felt it was her duty to know things, especially concerning him. But he knew her well and the truth of what he had done to reverse Ellinor’s tranquility would have reaching implications. That and it would only prove to sour her against him further.

“Why won't you tell me about this?” She asked and paused pacing, back to square one with an even voice, reining in her frustrations...for the moment.

“Because I don’t wish to.” He answered simply, continuing before her frustrations mounted again. “Not unless you would set aside all of your preconceived notions and beliefs of me. Could you be open minded and empathetic enough for me to tell you without you losing your head?” Dimitri breathed evenly and deep, watching her with narrowed eyes.

“I know there is a rationality in you, Seeker, and if you would show it, I would be obliged to discuss the matter.” He left it to her and she crossed her arms, tapping her foot on the carpet

Tension filled the space between them and Cassandra paused, putting her hands on her hips with a huff, frustration once again curling her brow. 

“You are not telling me everything.” She bartered rather than agreed and he snorted, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Of course.” He waved his hand at the obvious. “You know well by now I am remiss to discuss myself with you considering how you like to disagree with every single thing I have built my life on.” He chided not unlike telling a child they should know better. “But, to tell you more would require you to agree to my terms.”

“You’re asking me to take an awful lot on faith, Inquisitor.” Cassandra huffed and Dimitri’s brow wrinkled.

“I am putting that same level of trust in you, Seeker. This secret is one I do not share lightly. Can you be rational and understanding enough to know why I did what I had to? Why I thought it best?” He told her, his voice growing quiet. He would not plead or beg to her, only reach for the empathy he knew was there in her. Dimitri knew the frustration born of caring for something so much. It drove them both, even if Dimitri was loathed to admit it.

He crossed his arms, waiting for her conclusion. The wheels turned in her head, an internal debate ongoing as she resumed pacing. Dimitri sighed silently from his nose, picking his chapped lip. He waited silently on bated breath, mismatched eyes following her.

“Fine.” She finally spoke up, glancing at him. “I agree to remain rational and empathetic while you tell me of this.”

He cocked a brow. “You are certain of this? Do not think I have forgotten your reaction to my skills in blood magic.”

“Is this topic worse than that?” She asked and he sighed.

“Do you promise or not?” He deflected and her mouth curled, but she did not press. It wasn’t worth yet another circular argument between them.

“Yes, I promise. If I am...unyielding, then kindly remind me.” She answered finally. Not as if reminding her would stop her anger, but it was a useful tool to hold over her.

Dimitri sighed and sat down at his desk, folding his hands together, clearing his throat.

“When I first encountered Ellinor, she was a tranquil girl rescued from the Gallows with a group of others. She was only eight at the time you see, a small wee thing; most likely made tranquil along with the scores of other mages as punishment or because one could.” He took a breath, looking up as Cassandra’s lips turned to a thin line. She had leaned to rarely contest his accounts of Kirkwall and the Gallows, a victim to the abuse of the templars and a savior to many mages. Many of his accounts had made it glaringly obvious how little the Chantry or the Seekers knew of exactly what was going on. Another mistake and misstep that had brought them here.

“It was difficult to find places to take the tranquil, especially with how conspicuous they were. Suffice to say, caring for a tranquil child and finding a place to send her along was an unyielding task. Already having had experience with Daniel, I took Ellinor into my care. I didn’t make the choice lightly. She remembered little of life before tranquility, but it was easy to deduce early on that she had not been willing.”

“How did you arrive at that conclusion?” Cassandra asked calmly, inquisitively turning her head. She was listening for once, a funny thing Dimitri thought.

“Mages can elect to be made tranquil, as you know well. This was only a year or so before the abuses of the Templars turned to war. We knew the abuses were growing exponentially and growing darker long before the thought of war. In what little Ellie could recall, she stated that she very much enjoyed her magical studies and enjoyed having others like her around for once. What that means beyond her enjoyment of magic, I do not know.” Dimitri explained.

“But, it is not outside the realm of belief to think that the Templars in the Circle would make an eight year old tranquil.” He watched Cassandra’s face wrinkle as if to give a counterpoint and he sighed, running his hands back along his hair, waiting for her counterpoint.

“I apologize,” she caught herself, cutting Dimitri off. “Continue.” 

He cleared his throat and pulled in a deep breath, hands resting against the surface of the desk. “Ellinor came with us when we escaped Kirkwall. By that time...I had thought of a possible way by which to reverse her tranquility. It was a risky and dangerous solution, one I would not have attempted without discussing it with her first.”

“And she agreed?” Cassandra asked and Dimitri nodded, picking his lips as he fumbled for the words to explain what happened next. It was a fact that he rarely spoke of, a choice he had made many years ago. Whether it had been the correct choice or not remained to be seen. But insofar it had proved to be a correct choice, considering how without it he would have died. 

“She did agree.” He spoke slowly and Cassandra raised her brow.

“There is more to it.” She observed the obvious and he nodded with a deep sigh.

He looked up and he took a deep breath, continuing in a sterile tone of voice. A commonality to push his emotions aside to focus. He swallowed down how he could have easily told her it wasn’t her business or position to know, or how it was a deeply held secret of his...but, a little trust and transparency went both ways.

“An attack by Templars. I was dying and a rage demon came to me, offering me my life in exchange for possessing me. I took the deal, but rather than letting the demon possess me, I bound it to me, just beyond the Veil with blood magic. One could say I am an abomination, in a sense. Better to call it a pact, but to most it sounds just like an abomination...” Dimitri gave an idle shrug as if the news was nothing more than discussing the weather outside. He liked detachment when she looked at him, face curling like she didn't know whether to be flabbergasted, or angry enough to begin shouting again. He was leaning on the shouting. She opened her mouth to speak and Dimitri waited, but she shut her lips with a gruff grumble, folding her arms over her chest.

The wheels spun in her head, moving from point to point, conclusion to conclusion, trying to hold up the bargain she had made. He watched her try to grasp it before she looked back at him, questions rather than anger. Well, she had listened after all. He knew she was steaming and stewing, all the nasty, accusatory, mean things she could say. Maybe she had gotten her fill of it after chewing him out the first time failed to make a dent in his resolve. There was little cause to argue with Dimitri about the mistakes of the past when he knew them deeply and intently; anything she could’ve said would matter little.

It rarely stopped her from saying such nonsense, but she was entitled to do as such.

“I understand...but even so, why?” She asked and his shoulders sank, lips twisting.

“I was dying, Cassandra. I had no other options afforded to me beyond live with a demon, or die. We all make the choices we do, and must live with those consequences, both good and bad.” He heaved a long sigh and Cassandra shook her head.

“I can see you hardly approve.” Dimitri spoke the obvious and she chuckled, a shake of her head confirming it.

“I have many reasons by which to disagree, but you will hardly listen to them.” She gruffly spoke.

“As I am inclined since it is hardly your place.” Dimitri bit back with a pointed look and she sighed, conceding.

“You were speaking of Ellinor.” She gestured with a wave of her hand to continue, preventing the same old back and forth. Dimitri breathed in, nerves settling, stopping him from picking his nails.

“With all of that considered, the solution I came to was that perhaps my demon had insights. Bargaining with a demon is...well, goes as one expects. A give and take.” He gestured with a hand.

“And what did you give to see her returned to herself?” Cassandra asked, catching and running with his thoughts.

“That business is my own, Seeker.” He pulled away with a pointed glare for her to go ahead and ask him for more information. They would only have yet another fight on their hands.

She cleared her throat, seeming to take his glare for it’s worth, averting her own gaze. “So Ellinor returned to herself.”

“In a manner of speaking. In my exchange, the demon touched her mind and restored her back, re-establishing her connection to the Fade. Like a floodgate opening.” He explained and a dawning rose over Cassandra.

“What I did for her wasn’t unlike what happened to yourself, Seeker. Or how the rite is reversed. Malevolent or benevolent makes no difference, save for the fact that it restored her.” She slowly nodded at his words, fussing with her lip.

“It restored her, but tranquil lose control of their emotions and grow irrational.” She replied and he nodded.

“You are not wrong in that—Mages losing control and becoming vitriolic and irrational. Ellie had intense and agonizing wells of emotion inside her and no discernible reason why. It’s most likely abuses by the Templars she suffered and coming to terms with that, but a number of things were possible. It felt oft like taking a gamble at the possible reasons for her anger: the soup could cause a fit, the way the blanket was washed, something dark that happened to her that she couldn’t recall. Take your pick really.” He explained, spreading his hands out before folding them back together.

“But she has mostly returned to herself? In a manner of speaking?” Cassandra asked and Dimitri could see the shift from anger and frustration to curiosity.

Dimitri paused for a moment. “In a manner of speaking. She has emotions and feelings and can adequately express them in a productive manner just about as well as any other thirteen year old. You have seen her and talked with her no doubt. But, to say she has returned to who she was before, I cannot say.”

“So tranquility has changed who she is?”

“Would you say your own experience changed you? Your vigil and the spirit that touched your mind. Are you the same person now as you were then?” He suggested to her and she sighed.

“I do not know if that is simply because of life that has changed me, or the vigil.” She admitted.

“The same could be said for Ellie. Regardless of how she was before compared to how she is now, she is happy and healthy. The means to get there matter little in the grand perspective of only a few knowing the secret. And hopefully she will be able to make the choice herself on what to say of the choices made for her and by her.” Dimitri heaved a deep sigh and Cassandra looked at him for a long moment. He felt her eyes examining him and he got the same feeling, wondering if she was going to yell at him or not.

Instead she heaved a deep sigh like she was letting go of whatever frustration remained from the fight.

“Are you satisfied now, Seeker?” Dimitri spoke and she crossed her arms, shifting from foot to foot.

“Hardly.” She droned, but sighed again. “But you will hardly tell me more on the subject.”

“I must keep some secrets to myself.” He half joked and she shook her head, only the look of indifferent thinking marring her features. 

“If you will not say more, I will be content.” She glanced at him and Dimitri knew it was hardly the truth, but he let her be with it. He was hardly in the business of starting another fight and it seemed to be her thought as well. Cassandra straightened herself up, nodding to Dimitri.

“I will be taking my leave, Inquisitor.” She announced and Dimitri nodded.

“I wish you well the rest of the day, Seeker.” He replied, watching her walk away, footsteps on the stone until the door shut and he was left with silence.

Dimitri put his head in his hands, a moment or two sliding by in the quiet. It was just the sound of the wind against the windows and the occasional rattling of the hinges on the balcony door...and apparently quiet attempts to hush talking.

“I know you two are there.” He spoke, pulling his hands away from his face. He looked to his closet door, the voice immediately silencing. Even so, it didn’t stop the fact that the two of them were hiding in there. He waited a few more moments before a grumbling breath slipped his lips.

“Ellinor and Daniel...” Dimitri said pointedly and a tense moment passed before the door squeaked open. Ellie stepped out into the room, hands tucked behind her back, looking down at the floor, moving from foot to foot with anxiety. Daniel stood behind her, poking his head out, trying--and failing--to look as innocent as possible.

Ellie quickly opened her mouth, speaking quietly. “We’re sorry...”

Dimitri sighed out of his nose, shaking his head. He often didn’t have enough hands to handle the pair; he didn’t think they would ever be manageable, but couldn't bear to think ill of his own children.

“I am not angry with you two.” He told them quietly, standing and rounding his desk. Daniel came over to him, Ellie coming up slower, hands still tucked behind her back.

“We were gonna come out earlier, but you were...talking.” Daniel mumbled and Dimitri pulled him in, slipping his fingers through his messy brown hair to tame the knots. Daniel rested his head against his father’s stomach, arms curling around his waist.

“Yes, just talking. Having quite the heated discussion...” Ellie spoke and Dimitri looked up at her as she stepped close, worry about her face like a shroud.

“I’m sorry for giving away your secret, da’len.” He mumbled, cupping her cheek, running his thumb near the corner of her eye. She shook her head, sigh slipping from her narrowed lips. It did little to dispel the worry and anxiety about her however.

“It was going to have to be said eventually, Papea.” She spoke pragmatically and Dimitri smiled wearily.

“Even so, I should have spoken with you first on the matter.” He admitted willingly. “A matter of principle rather than pragmatists. But later we can talk? I don’t wish to be caught unawares again.” He asked her and she nodded, shoulders dipping like a part of the burden was washing away. She would always still hold onto most of it, a fate they had both picked. The good thing of it being something they both picked was that she would never be alone in it.

“Yes, I would like that.” She smiled and Dimitri’s own lips split into a matching one. He pushed a stray hair out of her face, exposing her forehead and the sunburst scar, the constant reminder of the horrid past. But they were here now, where they belonged.

“For now, are you sure you’re going to be okay? Cassandra won’t tell others. She's many things, but a woman who keeps her word.” Dimitri spoke as his smile disappeared, replaced by a serious look. Ellie bobbed her head, straightening up.

“I’ll be alright. You’re always here for me and...Cassandra is a woman of her word and--”

“You'll get angry at her otherwise. The both of you will kick her butt!!” Daniel cut his sister off, looking between the two of them with a snarky grin.

“Oh, shove off! We wouldn’t do that!” Ellie exasperated, giving her brother a wicked look.

“Would too!”

“Would not!”

“Would too!!”

Daniel stuck his tongue out at her and she did the same, wagging her head for good measure with a hearty whine. Daniel blew a raspberry with his tongue at her as payback. Dimitri heaved a loud sigh and it was enough to quiet the two of them, the pair looking at him.

“Now,” Dimitri cleared his throat and straightened up, “if you two are quite finished, isn’t there other business for the two of you? Such as studies? I’m sure your tutor is waiting patiently.” He gestured them on even if he was following right behind.

“Another day in the library with Dorian correcting him constantly?” Ellie took Dimitri’s hand in her own and he squeezed her back. Daniel eagerly ran ahead of them, taking the stairs in twos and threes despite the warnings of the danger. Cause and effect was a better teacher to Daniel, but Dimitri liked to avoid the kind that would seriously hurt his son.

“Will Dorian ever take over our lessons, Papae?” Daniel asked with a snicker, already at the base of the stairs, rocking from foot to impatient foot.

Dimitri laughed, shaking his head. “Dorian is much happier with the role of being the one to snidely remark about your studies as he walks by. He would hardly have the patience to corral you both.”

“It rather suits him.” Ellie observed and Dimitri snickered.

“It does, doesn’t it?” He agreed, raising a brow. “I wouldn’t tell him that unless you want to hear him go on and on about how it’s a blatant lie.” He spoke quietly to just her and she held down a laugh.

Dimitri smiled warmly, opening the door to the grand hall of Skyhold. He gave Ellie a kiss on the crown of her head and much the same to Daniel before shooing the pair off. Daniel quickly made for the stairs across the hall, calling for Ellie to race him. She rolled her eyes, heading for the rotunda instead. Inevitably to stop and see what Solas was working on today, just as curious as her brother in her own way.

He let out a sigh even with the weight sitting on his chest. He knew even with the choices he had made—like the choice to save Daniel from his own mistakes, or the choice to reverse the rite done to Ellie—that they had been good ones. He had spent enough time pondering the life they would have had without him to know he was better than anything else afforded to them. It was a selfish thought almost.

But it was hardly worth the energy to think of the what if’s when the present sat before them. A valuable lesson among many the pair had taught him over the years.

Lessons he cherished, just like each day he got to hold them close and tell them just how wonderful they were. A father’s prerogative, surely, and selfish in its way, but out of everything in Thedas that Dimitri had done, selfish was something he didn’t mind being.

[musingmycelium]

Commission for @goblin-deity <3 Thank you so much for commissioning me! Pairing: Dimitri Enallasani x The Iron Bull Rating: Explicit Words: 2900 Commission info

Crackling fire mixes with the ringing of metal on metal. Rotten dirt rising high on either side and Dimitri brings the wrath of lightning charged flames reigning down onto the swarm of ghouls and blood red templars. Though the strike avoids Bull in the midst his greataxe glinting in the bright sunlight. Heartbeat in his ears, moments passing in slow motion as the swarm is reduced to a handful.

Stumbling as his shoulder is thrown backward, a white-hot line drawn across his skin with steel. Dimitri grits his teeth, bares them in a snarl. Above, on the ramparts, stands the archer who took the shot and Dimitri burns him from the inside out. Melting metal and boiling blood and Dimitri is glad he’s standing upwind.

Staff coming down once more, a flash of blue-white erupts from Dimitri. Bull roars a challenge at the largest of the group and the behemoth responds in kind. Blood-curdling and sharper than the jagged edges of lyrium splitting its skin open. Horrifying but they’ve both seen worse. Dimitri raises his staff over his head, swings it in a wide circle, slams it down into the shattered ground with a yell.

And the behemoth’s roar melts into a shriek. Flames licking at its entire form, flesh and bone and lyrium bubbling and leaking from the thing. Bull finishes the monster off -greataxe already dripping with gore but it cleaves into the behemoth’s flesh just the same.

The acrid stench of burning flesh fills Dimitri’s nose as the last templar hits the dirt. Fire on his fingertips, at the end of his staff. Copper and rust between his teeth. Dimitri lets the flames continue to burn as he takes a deep breath and lets it out through his nose, grin pulling at his lips until it stretches across his face. They won.

Creators there had been so many, a wave of crimson in those pits dug by shemlen. The dead walking between men made of corrupted lyrium. A fist curled around conjured flame, Dimitri loosens his grip on his staff as the adrenaline in his blood sings. Bull whoops in front of him, greataxe lofted over his head in triumph. And Dimitri’s grin grows to match.

“Did you see that!” Bull’s voice carries through the trench, far further than the scant twenty feet between them. Turns from the carnage they’ve created, a wide grin splitting his face too. “We kicked ass!”

Filthy. Blood is splattered across Bull’s chest, dark crimson on grey, small shards of that damnable red lyrium glittering in the harsh and unforgiving noon sun. Dimitri would have to call himself a liar if he were to say the sigh didn’t fill his gut with something burning hotter than any flames he created.

Perhaps it is matched by the sharp light in Bull’s eye, in the heat of his softening grin. Dimitri steps forward. Once, twice, small steps lengthening into strides and Bull meets him halfway between.

Strong arms around his waist, lifting him from the ground in an arc as Bull’s lips crash against Dimitri’s. Copper lingering on their tongues, smoke and ash and adrenaline. A kiss with promise, with heat and with the exhilaration of making it out alive once again. Heady.

Hands on skin, roaming fingertips over armor and cloth and reaching, searching for the expanse of skin heaving underneath. Inside his chest, Dimitri’s heart already racing begins to ignite.

They make it back to camp in the evening. Sun barely beginning to set over the flat plains, ruddy orange bleeding into bruised purple sky. Dimitri would watch it set if it weren’t for the itchiness of dried blood crawling in the joints of his light armor. Rolling his shoulders he sets about cleaning up.

Slipping into his routine. Cold water and a rough sponge, harsh lye soap they make in huge batches back at Skyhold. Dimitri washes quickly -finds no point in taking his time when Bull’s already finished and waiting for him. Drys himself with the same haste.

Upper arm stinging where the arrow caught him earlier, another reminder. One of many littering Dimitri’s body, another story and another scar. Although he’s not the only one with both of those, and Bull is far better at telling stories. All Dimitri can think is how one day the only thing left will be stories, no bodies and no scars left to tell them.

Comes back to camp from the river in the same moment as the sunlight starts to give out. Moon and stars beginning to shine. Dimitri pushes aside the tent flap to find Bull relaxing against the pile of furs he calls a bedroll. Working on putting oil into the tight skin of his scars, a little extra help to keep them flexible.

“Hey, kadan.” Bull glances up, warmth in his eye. Even something so small and Dimitri has to fight to keep his stomach from flipping. Has never been successful at keeping his heart from skipping a beat when Bull looks at him like that.

The bottle is sitting behind Bull so Dimitri holds out a hand for it. An unspoken request. Bull raises his eyebrow with a hint of a smile but doesn’t hesitate to reach back for the bottle and hand it over to Dimitri. Simple intimacy in how he stills as Dimitri kneels in front of him, knees pressing into the soft fur.

Oil slick and cool against his palm. Dimitri pours a fair amount into his hands and dips his fingertips into the pool. Slowly rubs the oil into Bull’s skin, focusing entirely on the give of the scars under his fingers. Fractures and splinters, what if’s and could haves swirling inside his head.

There’s a scar on Bull’s good hand, thick and gnarled and stretching from the base of his thumb across his palm up towards the space between pinky and ring finger. Dimitri pays it attention first, Bull holds his hand open for him and Dimitri massages the oil into it until the smell of elfroot and blood lotus won’t fade.

Dimitri places a single kiss to the widest part of the scar. In the center of Bull’s palm, real and grounding. Beneath the herbal oil lingers the scent of leather and musk, mingling with jasmine and warm sand. Singular and home and Dimitri breathes in steadily. Bull’s heavy gaze on Dimitri’s back where he’s curled over Bull’s hand, the weight sitting comfortably between his shoulder blades.

One on Bull’s right forearm, his shoulder. Long and thick and curling, pearly and washed out against the rich grey of the rest of him. They sit in silence while Dimitri rubs the oil into each of Bull’s scars. Each scar gets its own kiss. One near Bull’s collarbone, another near his sternum.

A story for each one, some causing Dimitri to giggle in spite of himself, “Got that in a job with Fisher, you wouldn’t believe how big some of those nugs can get up north.” And others causing him to grimace, “Didn’t move out of the way fast enough.”

Some have only one word attached and those are the ones Dimitri lets his lips linger on. “Seheron.”

Dimitri doesn’t need to hear more than that name, knows exactly how Bull got those scars. Has his own to match. Memories and the past and the present mixing, a few times Dimitri stops in his ministrations. Time distorting, a heartbeat lasting forever, eternity condensed to a single moment.

Those are the moments Bull kisses Dimitri. A light press on the top of Dimitri’s hair, grounding him back in their tent, sitting on the pile of furs they share with oil in his palm. Nothing more but Dimitri doesn’t need anything else.

Continuing further. An expanse of grey skin in the light of the lantern, pearly scars and oil smelling of elfroot and blood lotus.  Running out of new places to pay homage to Dimitri retraces his path. A scar on Bull’s thigh, reaching for his knee. Jasmine and leather and a gentle heat in Dimitri’s chest.

A hand covering his. Dimitri pauses, glances up to find a smile and soft warmth in Bull’s eye. “My turn.” Bull’s voice is already low, a rumble not unlike thunder from a distant storm. Catching in Dimitri’s chest and echoing in all the caverns there.

“Alright.” Dimitri hands the bottle over and realizes he’s still mostly dressed. Baggy shirt and loose pants, nothing constricting. Easily removed. Without wasting time Dimitri stretches and strips, shirt going over his head before being folded and set aside. Not bothering to stand to slide his pants down his hips, lets them bunch around his ankles for a moment before wiggling out of them completely.

Bare copper skin in flickering light to match the grey of Bull’s. Dimitri doesn’t much care for others to look at him without several layers between him and the world but with Bull… With Bull Dimitri finds no pity in his gaze, only warm desire. Something comforting in how Bull doesn’t push for explanations but doesn’t pass over his skin too quickly either.

With Bull Dimitri is real. Solid and present, messy in the best way. Gentle simmering heat washing over Dimitri’s skin, a slow burn in his chest.

Fingertips pressing softly into his skin, a slow glide of oil slick hands on Dimitri’s scars. Starting with his hands Bull raises the back of his hand to his lips, turns them over to kiss his palm. Little white lines criss-crossing Dimitri’s fingers, defense and magic and stories Bull watched happen.

Moves downward to Dimitri’s right wrist and the jagged edges of the pale skin wrapping nearly the whole way around it. Bull knows the story but Dimitri whispers “Gallows.” anyways. Scars in the shape of teeth on his forearm and the same word applies. Dimitri closes his eyes as one present becomes many, fractures and fractals and Dimitri’s stomach is churning with nerves.

Chapped lips pressing tenderly against each one before moving on, further up his arm to the fresh red line on his bicep. Grounding Dimitri to this singular present. No oil but Bull kisses the mark as he kissed the scars on his wrist, on his arm. In the light of the lantern Bull’s eye is burning, a heat growing in Dimitri’s stomach to match the fire under his skin.

Along his left shoulder, Bull turning Dimitri around to reach the thick scar there, a different arrow from a different time. “Didn’t heal right.” And Bull lets his lips linger on skin. Massages the oil deep into the scar to keep it loose and flexible.

A strong back with muscles jumping under Dimitri’s skin, scattered diamond shaped burns and again Dimitri whispers, “Gallows.” Bull kisses each one, a trail of acceptance and commitment, a knowledge of pain and stories which have no good ending.

Down his side, Bull’s lips following the thickest of Dimitri’s scars. Rib cage to hip the scar stretches rough and jagged, a messily healed death sentence. Dimitri’s breath in his lungs halts but Bull continues, turning him back into the light of the lantern.

Bull stops, hand over Dimitri’s heart and raises his head to capture Dimitri’s gaze with his own. Warmth and desire, comfort and familiarity. A promise, “Doing okay kadan?” Shuddering breaths but Dimitri knows Bull will wait, or stop completely, at a word. Dimitri trusts, gathers his racing heart and closes his eyes. Nods.

And Bull’s hand continues onward, wandering across Dimitri’s chest, drags his fingertips over Dimitri’s hip bone to draw a breathy groan from him. Finds the thin scars scored across his thighs and the divot from yet another arrow. Bull’s thumb rubbing soothing circles into them as he lowers his head to the curve of Dimitri’s collar to finish what they started.

Lips with a hint of teeth. Twin scars on his neck and Bull knows their story too. Lingers there, fingertips on the curve of his hip shifting from exploring to soothing. Dimitri burns softly, a simmering flame licking in his veins.

Bull gives up the pretense completely. Draws back from Dimitri with a wicked smile on his face. “Behind you in the bag, trade out the oils.” Voice like distant thunder and Dimitri shivers. Fingers fumbling in his haste to grab the bottle of elfroot oil from where Bull is handing it over to exchange it for the far smaller vial of unscented oil in Bull’s saddlebag.

Nearly drops it once he has it, Bull’s deep laugh rumbling through Dimitri’s chest. “I don’t have another one if you break that one kadan.”

Rolling his eyes even as heat rises in his cheeks Dimitri places the vial in Bull’s waiting palm. Lets Bull guide him back into the furs, plush against his flushed skin. A safety in Bull’s weight over him, one hand bracketing Dimitri’s head even as the other kneads into his skin.

A cork pulled out with teeth. Bull’s eye closing slowly in what Dimitri knows is supposed to be a wink. Fighting a grin Dimitri rises up and drapes his hands around Bull’s neck, claims his lips in a searing kiss. The one place Dimitri wants them most.

Breath coming as a gasp only to be swallowed by Bull. Eyes closing as Dimitri surrenders to the fire they started in his chest. Bull’s oil slick fingers traveling down Dimitri's chest and stomach, his teeth catching against the scar on the corner of Dimitri’s mouth in the same moment his hand curls around Dimitri’s cock.

Gasp strangled into a moan. Dimitri bites against Bull’s bottom lip, tugs it with his teeth while Bull’s hand slowly stokes his length. Circles his fingers around the base and Dimitri pulls back from their kiss. Heat under his skin igniting, Bull turns his attention to Dimitri’s jaw and withdraws his hand from Dimitri’s cock.

Moves lower instead. Oil cool fingers press against his entrance in a thick and welcome intrusion. Dimitri digs his nails into Bull’s shoulder, cants his hips upward. A grin against the soft skin under his jaw and Dimitri’s heart flips in his chest. Creators, he’s too old for this.

Bucks his hips onto Bull’s finger, burning skin and boiling blood. Dimitri is starting to go up in flames. Little breaths falling from him with every movement of Bull’s finger inside him. A groan when one becomes two.

Scissoring and stretching. Dimitri arcs up against Bull as his head falls back against the fur. The lantern light blurring around him, the world falling out of focus. Nothing but sensation and flames. Bull grounds him, weighs him down into the moment and Dimitri groans under him.

Bull pulls his fingers out slowly. An emptiness in Dimitri with the loss even as Bull litters Dimitri’s shoulder with hot open mouth kisses. Lines himself up with Dimitri’s entrance and presses inside with the same gentleness he left with. The air in Dimitri’s lungs leaves him in a rush, low and heady and Bull’s groan is lost to the crook of Dimitri’s neck.

A heartbeat stretching, molten as Dimitri burns and adjusts to Bull. Burning in the same pyre. Dimitri rolls his hips up after a moment, languid and unrushed. His pace matched by Bull in a drawn-out thrust. Fire building higher, sweat beading in the hollow of Dimitri’s throat and the dip of his hips.

Moment after moment, thrust after thrust, eternity after eternity. Dimitri is becoming the very fire he wields on the battlefield they so recently left. Bull’s hand once again curls around Dimitri’s cock, twisting and pulling with a delicious friction. Circling his leaking head, pearly drops on flushed flesh. Blinding and building and Dimitri is nothing but flame.

Dimitri trails his hands from Bull’s shoulders up to his neck, drawing Bull back into a messy, scorching kiss. Hips moving in time, burning air shared between lungs. So close to the edge Dimitri can taste it on Bull’s tongue.

Falling off with a choked moan. Dimitri’s hips shudder out of time with Bull’s, thick ropes of sticky white seed painting his stomach. Clenching around Bull inside him and Bull empties himself with a groan Dimitri swallows. Heartbeats in their throats, flames receding to embers.

Dimitri breaths in the scent of them, jasmine and leather and sex. Air still hot enough to burn. Bull pulls out of Dimitri slowly, gently. Kisses Dimitri’s temple. “Fuck kadan we should clear trenches more often.”

He doesn’t sound like he’s joking and Dimitri laughs breathlessly. “Go get a wash rag and I’ll think about it.”

Bull’s laugh matches Dimitri’s as he gets up to get something to clean themselves with. Returns with cold water and a cloth and a grin. Waggles his eyebrows when Dimitri raises his before cleaning them up without wasting any time. Throws the rag near the entrance of the tent once he’s done with it and blows the lantern out.

Skin still flushed Dimitri reaches out for Bull. Pulls him down into the furs and presses himself along Bull’s side, wanting all the contact he can manage. It takes a moment before Dimitri is satisfied -wiggling about until Bull wraps an arm around him and kisses his mussed hair with a yawn.

Heartbeat slowing, embers glowing in Dimitri’s chest. He kisses Bull’s shoulder and closes his eyes. Lets the quiet of night fall over them both and Dimitri sleeps well for the first time in weeks.

[musingmycelium]

✓ For Noure and De'ean on what they think of Dimitri?? :3

Noure- “Most bodies carry stories with them, easy to read if you know how to look. But for all Dimitri’s story is open there isn’t much to read if he doesn’t let you. I like that. There’s nothing more attractive than a mystery I can unravel slowly and savor.”

Da’ean- “This is probably cliche but, well, to me the most attractive thing about Dimitri is the way he listens and talks with me. I don’t have to be ‘herald’ or ‘inquisitor’ I can be Da’ean. Just Da’ean. It’s refreshing and he’s one of few people who I can relax around.” He laughs, “And I guess he’s rather easy to look at if you enjoy your men with some history to them, which Dimitri has in spades.”

[impossible-rat-babies]

Ellinor (30 yrs) + Daniel (25yrs)

--

I wanted to draw the two of them all grown up. Ellinor ends up as an outspoken member of the College of Enchanters, working to help reverse tranquility and care for them. Daniel ends up as a scholar in the reclaimed Dales, helping with coordinating efforts between Dalish clans to help preserve ancient artifacts and reclaim their hold history.