#elgar'nan rp

[galemilker]

This is Kass. He's lil angry mage out for vengeance. Lost his younger sister years ago when their clan got attacked. Chose the vallaslin of elgar'nan because of it. One side is darker in colour for him and one side is lighter for her. Still has scar over his brow from when he lost her.

Always introduces himself as Kass even tho that's not his complete name. It started as a nickname from when his baby sister couldn't pronounce his full name and now he just goes by it.

Kept his hair long so his siblings can play with it and braid it.

...................................................................................................................... Kind fo wanted to write down my thoughts and rp direction for him

[thebloodychampion]

@sunxxblessed

The prison had been destroyed, one of the largest in all of Tevinter if not all of Thedas. It was like Aeonar in the south, just massively big and Dreag had been set under solitary the entire time he was there. He didn*t mind, since he was never alone anyway, so he had Elgar’nan but after a while the elven god got a bit well restless so Dreag gave permission to control him and destroy this place, which he did. So Dreag was out and was wondering around a little bit, he knew that this would make the news anyway.

[dreadwxlf]

“ Have you ever considered that we don't have to restore Arlathan just to return agency to the People ? ”

  ~   It was late when Solas and Elgar’nan finally found time to speak in private. They sat in the temporary home the apostate had made for himself in Haven, sitting across from each other at a comfortable distance. Trust between the pair was obviously dubious. ~

  ~   “ Arlathan is not my primary concern, ” he answered lowly in the flowing tones of their native tongue. “ The city itself is all but lost, and restoring it would waste resources best used in other areas. ” In time ( if all went according to plan ) , there would be another grand city like Arlathan. ~

  ~   “ The first step in restoring the People is destroying the Veil. You have seen what the world is like when sundered from the Fade -- our people are left mortal and at the mercy of the humans. ” Slight frustration broke through his tone. “ I do not understand why you wish for the Veil to remain in place. You see what it steals from us. No matter what course of action we take in the future, we will be at a great disadvantage while it exists. ” He and Elgar’nan never saw eye-to-eye on things; but in dire circumstances, petty disagreements were put aside for the greater good. If he could convince the former Evanuris to work alongside him, he would be able to accomplish more than he would have by himself. ~

[thebloodychampion]

Dreag had kind of agreed to go to Skyhold, well he had to get away from Tevinter, so this place was the best for that. Him and Cyrion were not exactly the best things for other people. Dreag just had the worst of it, but at least his passanger was quiet through all of this, he might just had tried to take over when he realised Solas was here.

"Maybe, but it depends on the atrocities, for some people it is atrocious to wear the wrong outfits for certain events. But call me Dreag, it might confuse people if you call me Hawke."

@thebloodychampion asked " “   I’ve done nothing wrong. Except all the atrocities. Besides that, I’m innocent. ” (I just want varric to meet someone, you can decide or just randomize it) "

Varric’s eyebrows rose at the man’s words, but he forced a grin onto his face. There was something… strange about his friend’s brother. Hell, it was still strange knowing Archer had a brother - two of them, in fact. He was pretty sure she had at least mentioned it at some point but in all the years Varric had known her he had yet to make their acquaintance. Until now, of course.

And this one was… interesting. Dreag reminded Varric of Solas in a way, but more reserved. He was half tempted to start calling him “Chuckles the sequel” but figured that might not go over well.

“I think the atrocities count for doing some things wrong, Hawke,” he told him with a chuckle. “But I’m sure they can be forgiven easily enough.”

[polarishymn-blog]

I'm bored so here is another theory. Be warned HERE BE SPOILERS!

Tacking on to the Elgar'nan theory here:

I discussed how I think the Evanuris were originally spirits. Well folks I have a personal head canon for my Inquisitor. Let me make this clear MY LAVELLAN INQUISITOR. NOT SAYING ANYONE HAS TO AGREE. I JUST USE THIS WHEN I PLAY THROUGH.

Ok? Ok.

Get your tinfoil hats on. This one is a doozy.

Lavellan is the spirit of sacrifice.

I hear people now like "that's ridiculous." Give me a chance to explain before you scroll on.

The Inquisitor is in the fade after being part of an explosion that kills EVERYONE ELSE. Even Corypheus takes a big ol L on this one.

Everyone is dead. What happens to Divine Justinia? A spirit that identifies with her so much it takes on her persona and memories. As does Compassion who becomes Cole. So we have a precedence for this.

Cole shows us that a spirit can take physical form. Justinia shows us that a spirit can fully believe they are that person. And the ancient elves just...these guys...looking at you Solas.

Var lath vir suledin!

I digress. So a spirit can not only retain the thoughts and memories of a person but take physical form.

"Then how come she doesn't know she is a spirit?" You ask?

Simple the spirit doesn't want to remember. It was a traumatic event. The person they identified with, quite possibly has been watching for some time, died a horrible death trying to save Justinia from that red lyrium blight infused ballsack. They basically ran into a situation any of us would have noped out of. All to try and save (for Lavellan) a woman that made no nevermind to them.

Instead our intrepid little elf is like "nah I should definitely fuck with that big scary guy and grab this clearly magical item."

In the immortal words of Sandal "BOOM!"

Everything goes to shit. Our lady elf wakes in the Fade with no memory how she got there. She recovers her memory later but not all of it. After the explosion there isn't shit until she wakes up.

Sus.

So she wakes up and spends the rest of her time throwing herself into one hellscape after another. Putting herself in constant danger and giving up whatever life they had before to save the world. Spoiler: and her fucking arm. Thank Solas. You lying manipulative beautiful bastard you.

Var lath vir suledin!

Speaking of that wolfish sex pistol...he has some...odd dialouge.

Solas: spirit wish to join then living. Demons are that wish gone wrong.

Interesting. He doesn't say they can't. Cole is proof they can. So lets look at some Cole and Solas exchanges:

Solas: The rifts draw spirits through, and the shock makes demons of them.

Cole: Pushing through makes you be yourself. You can hold onto the you.

Cole: Being pulled through means you don't have enough you. You become what batters you, bruises your being.

Solas: Yes, exactly. Deliberately crossing the Veil requires that a spirit form will, personality.

Solas: That concept of self gives a spirit the chance to maintain its nature.

So according to Cole a spirit that comes through willingly doesn't necessarily become a demon. Solas follows up with a spirit needs the will to do so and to form a personality. If the spirit has a blueprint...say...a person they identify with...they could assume that person's personality and indomitable will and focus.

His voice....sigh.

Let's move on to:

Solas: You may well become fully human, after all. I never thought to see it.

Cole: When did you see it before?

Solas: I did not say that I had.

Cole: No, you didn't. It's harder to hear, sometimes. Sorry.

Solas: Good luck, Cole. You have taken a difficult road.

Ya'll Cole can see/sense that Solas has seen this before. And he also knows who and what Solas is. Our murder bebe all but outs him several times. After Tresspasser you see the breadcrumbs clearly. This exchange could on the surface just be about them but as Solas is also a spirit taken form I find it interesting he doesn't say "You where once like me Solas." If he doesn't out him here he may not out the Inquisitor.

Next! Ah...the balcony scene. WHY MUST YOU BE SO DAMN CHARMING!

Solas: Has it affected you? Changed you in any way? Your mind, your morals, your... spirit?"

Lavellan: If it had do you really think I'd have notice?

Solas: No. That's an excellent point.

Lavellan: Why do you ask?

Solas: You show a wisdom I have not seen since... since my deepest journies into the ancient memories of the Fade.

Solas: If the Dailsh could raise someone with a spirit like yours. Have I misjudged them?

Ok...why is he emphasizing her spirit. Not soul. Not you. SPIRIT! He asks if the mark has affected her. But it could be his way of prying information without "hey bitch are you aware you are a spirit. I know crazy, right?" Js he does this "I like your spirit" talk more than once.

I enter into evidence a snippet from the heart shattering breakup conversation:

Solas: You have a rare and marvelous spirit.

I'm not crying. You're crying. DRINK MY TEARS PATRICK WEEKES YOU BEAUTIFUL BEING!

A rare and marvelous spirit huh...Cole what was it he said to you?

Cole: I didn't know there were spirits of wisdom.

Solas: There are few. Spirits form as a reflection of this world and its passions.

Solas: We will never lack for spirits of rage, or hunger, or desire. The world gives them plenty to mirror.

Solas: The gentler spirits are far more rare. We can ill afford the loss of even one spirit of wisdom, or faith...

Solas: Or compassion.

Or sacrifice! If compassion and wisdom are rare. How rare would sacrifice be?

Solas says the Inquisitor changed everything for him. He is someone who is ready to do whatever it takes to restore his people. Surly he would value sacrifice. If he came across a rare and marvelous spirit of sacrifice would he not at least be intrigued? Or inspired?

Let's face it he is an artist. His lady would definitely be his muse. Especially after she accidentally gives him permission to destroy the world.

...Dammit Lavellan.

Finally, why didn't our precious lying egg not mention this? When the Inquisitor is having the very terse elven conversation and the city elves are brought up this is the dialogue:

Solas: Why? What would it benefit some poor man in a Ferelden alieanage to learn his ancestors strode the land like gods? It would only make him bitter. Or inspire him to take a foolish risk and get himself killed.

Lavellan: You have decided his reaction for him.

Solas: Perhaps I have.

Clearly wolf boy has no problem keeping information from someone he thinks will only serve to harm them. If the Inquisitor knew they were a spirit perhaps Solas would think their reaction would be troublesome. Or even dangerous.

There is more but this is already ridiculously long. All this is to say my Lavellan was a real elf. She was killed during the explosion and a spirit of sacrifice identified with her so much she became her. The elf Solas falls in love with is (in my rp) like him. A rare spirit that became flesh and blood. She chose to be real like Cole can. Her lack of memory of the moment it happened is both self serving and part of the effects of becoming real. I know it is most likely all bs but it makes for an interesting thought.

Solas is the force that will end Thedas. Lavellan may be the sacrifice needed to stop it.

I hope you enjoyed this rant nobody asked for.

Oh and:

SOLAS! VAR LATH VIR SULEDIN!

[nighttimefriend]

Repost, don’t reblog! Tag 6 muns you would like to get to know better when done!

Name: Danelle

Nickname: Dani/Dany/Danny/D.K./Decay/Obby/Yokowch

Age: 33

Faceclaim: My own? or a potato.

Pronouns: She / her

Height: 5′6″

Birthday: May 18th 

Aesthetics:  dark academia smudged with fairy dust is what I like. I project the NEET/Crazy-middle-age-woman-screaming-at-her-dogs aesthetic tho.

Favourite muse(s) you’ve written: I have a lot. Hermione Granger holds a special place in my heart because it was the first RP I ever did in AOL Chats HogwartsWizardSchool back in the 2000's. Zelea and her twin brother Adrian were my first 'developed' OCs in on livejournal. There was Draco Malfoy who I really enjoyed playing until people forceshipping or trying to guilt me into shipping with their OCS happened then I quit. It was a bad time.

What inspired you to take on your current muse (that you are posting this on): Honestly, Chris playing Solas. I wanted write with them. I stalked their blog for like...a month reading all their writing. Their prose pulled me in and I got this feeling like "I have to write with them. It'll be epic." Originally, Ny'Ari was supposed to be a neurotypical Lavellan inquisitor who got stuck in the wrong place at the wrong time. So I replayed all the games and started developing her timeline and then I got to Trespasser and found this codex while meandering around Vir Dirthara. So I scrapped the 40+ hours I put into the original Lavellan and made Ny'Ari; Champion of Elgar'nan.

What are your favourite aspects of your current muse: She's three dimensional. You have this character who in all rights should be a jaded bad-ass warrior who has millennia of experience, who should be immune to the darker aspects of war and death, who should be doing everything in her power to bring back the Evanuris and destroy Solas, but she isn't. Ny'Ari doesn't know everything after living 6000+ years and makes mistakes. She likes people even though she's seen what people can do. Ny'Ari would rather be kneading bread than fighting on the battlefield. She drinks to forget the shit she's seen but will still wake up to to do it all again.

What’s your biggest inspiration when it comes to writing: I don't know if it counts as inspiration, but I want to write something for someone that makes them excited to see what happens next. Like you have to reply right away because you don't know what's going to happen next or if it's just a singular prose, you have to go to the next page to see how it plays out. I don't know if that made any sense, my dog was barking.

Favourite types of threads: Loosely plotted threads where you know where it will end up, but you don't know how the story got there and that makes it exhilarating.

Biggest struggle in regards to your current muse: Time and depression. I have the time now to write, but some days I can't get out of bed. I'll read threads and plot how to write them for the biggest effect and then never write them because I can't find the energy.

tagged by: @pcrseverance

tagging: @many-tales-told @lathsuledin @lathal @crossing-the-threshcld

[jeusev]

h-hewwo it’s my dragon age oc, his name is Tarenan. He is an ancient elf who went into uthenera after the fall of Arlathan. He fought with the rebeliion along with Solas ;w; im up for RP/HCs! also english is not my first language so please excuse my grammar / vocabulary errors dshsdhhsdh 

Tarenan

Taren : Mind

Nan : Revenge

Renan : Voice

Taren was born in Arlathan, to healer parents, servants of Elgar’Nan. He was born conveniently attractive, wrapped in smooth, fair skin. Silky jade coloured hair draped along his shoulders gracefully, he was fit, slender built with average height. The glint of his emerald orbs were mesmerizing. He was unblemished. 

However, alas, it was like the universe was trying to nerf him, Tarenan was lacking the ability to wield magic, much to his dismay. Taren had 2 older brothers, so naturally, his parents did not really mind his “defect”, however the elvhen did not took it so kindly.  Slithering whispers on his back whenever he went was inevitable, and it always riled him up. The discrimination and the pity stares he received shaped him into an ambitious, prove-thirst chaotic individual. He was notorious, he’d pick a fight whenever one of his peers started to pity his inability to use magic. “I’m still better than you even if i could not wield magic.” Taren would always find a way to prove that he was indeed better than everyone, and easily enough, he realized violence solves the problem. Taren did not really care about his academic achievements, for he saw the best on academic matters would probably ended up working in the grand library doing monotone research anyways. Boring. 

So he trained, ceaselessly, with a goal in mind to become Elgar’nan’s elite warriors, so no one could ever belittle him anymore. If someone without magic like him can join the elites, then who are you to belittle him, right ? Taren was not gifted in terms of strength and muscles, but his assessment were always on point. Thus, he realized something crucial – The ancient elves... DID mind about their gracefulness when they fight. They thought so highly about having to look good even when you’re about to bathe in someone else’s blood, which is… bullshit, if Taren must say. So Taren took advantage of that, and developed his own fighting style. It was definitely.... beastly, wild, its “ugly” ; according to everyone. But he won. Mostly. Him, against elves with magic. 

Ultimately, his notorious achievement reached on Elgar’Nan’s ears, and so he was recruited and joined the legion. Even though Taren was still a rookie, he worked harder than most, and showed an indomitable determination. As a gift, Taren was given a chance to receive a “lyrium marking”, which enables those so called “defected” elves to use magic. Sometimes Elgar’nan would send his troops to the dwarven underground for the lyrium, and only the maker knows what Elgar’nan would do to those lyrium. (x) (I suspect the Tevinter / Fenris’s lyrium markings was a technique derived from the elvhen) Taren was delighted, and after a series of excruciating experiments, it finally happened. 

Strange markings appeared all over his body. Levitation was the first thing he tried to master, he was able to phase through objects, and then shapeshift, though it requires extreme concentration to be able to keep up the transformation for a long time, and ultimately, Taren were totally unbeatable in the battlefield. He soared the sky, killed Elgar’nan’s enemies as much as he could, hoisted Elgar’nan’s flag on every landmark he could see, all he did to show his loyalty to Elgar’nan. To spat, on those who underestimate him. Pride and arrogance filled his heart, it blinded him to the bitter truth he chose to ignore. Then, Taren became an arcane warrior, one of Elgar’Nan’s elite bodyguard, appointed exclusively by Elgar’Nan himself. Tarenan did not possess the tall and bulky body like other warriors. In fact, he was probably one of the smallest elite bodyguard Elgar’nan ever had. It becomes an advantage though. People unfamiliar to him would underestimate his physique. Little did they know, Tarenan was one of Elgar’nan prized champions. Taren was deadly and impeccable. Strong, boisterous, never wavering. Naturally, having such title comes with great burden and responsibilities too. As a champion, it was one of his duty to do Elgar’nan’s dirty work. Taren understands, and he tremendously enjoyed the title bestowed upon him. 

Until one day, he found a baby. Crying. Under the bed, where her supposedly parents killed by Taren. Taren had killed widows, whores, rebel teenagers, concubines, men with families, soldiers, but not…. A baby… When Taren picked her up, her crying stopped. She stared at Taren, wide eyed, curious. Using the last of his conscience, Taren decided that it was.. better that she was  brought back, rather than killed. She could become a nurse, or farmer.. and so he jumped from the window, flew to the horizon, with a baby slept soundly on his arms.

It was NEVER on his thought, to actually have a kid. He did had meaningless dangles obviously, but a family ? To become a father ? Never. But there he stood, changing her diaper. The baby started to cry whenever Taren was not around, and she looked like she was the most comfy baby when sleeping on Taren’s arms. In the end Taren decided that she will be his responsibility, because she threw the biggest tantrum when she was handled with the midwives and milk mothers, and Taren did not trust those lame ladies anyways. They treat babies as if they’re fragile creatures, must be protected at all costs. For Taren, babies had to be taught the cruel world from early ages. Let them fall when they learn to walk, so that they will understand pain and refrain from doing the same mistakes again. Besides, the baby seemed to like being handled with Taren. It cried when the midwives put her in frilly dresses, she seemed to grow fond of the lame, comfy baby onesie Taren picked for her. She giggled cheerfully when Taren threw her up on the air, and snorted adorably when she was being carried upside down by him.

Taren the savage arcane warrior ? The beast who always wore armor and kept his wings visible all the time ? 

It was a surprise, really. So Taren could not really blame them, he did not believe it at first either. People were worried about the girl’s future, about how Taren would accidentally sit on her or drop her. Or stab her with that stupid claw armor he wore all the time. Little did they know, Taren was actually a great father, and he loved his daughter, dearly, as a father should. Gold ain’t always golden, and he named her Minaya. 

Minaya grew into a sensible, gentle woman in nature. She was his pride, she was Taren’s 80% impulse control. Taren used to teach her everything, now she taught Taren about compassion, to let go of all the hate and hatred Taren kept, to find his own happiness in the harsh world they live in. It changed how Taren saw the world. Every path Taren took, he calculated how it’d affect Minaya in some ways, he realized how his path were always against what Minaya had taught him. Finally Taren was forced to acknowledge all his past misdeeds. He realized how filthy he was by doing Elgar’nan’s dirty works. He realized how despicable the lies Elgar’nan preached to comfort the soldiers when the poor souls were about to be deployed to an unjust war. He was furious at the evanuris. He was angry at how Elgar'nan’s pride could cost innocent lives, gallons of blood spilled for unworthy cause. He was enraged, for the pride he sought turned out was an illusion. Sweet lies Elgar'nan whispered on his ears, glorifying what was horrible. Exasperated, because the most guilty had the cleanest hands.

When he came back from the battlefield, the pain changed him.

Taren could not just escaped and ran away from Elgar’nan, he could not just joined the other “better” evanuris. He could not defy Elgar’nan, he could not risked Minaya. Elgar’nan was merciless, he was utterly cruel to those who oppose him. He was called a “god” for a reason. Taren was helpless against his fate.

Minaya, of course, realized it. Taren’s pain was her own, she was always there for him during Taren’s difficult times. She gave him a reason to keep thriving for a better future, to keep the fuel burning. She turned his pain into wisdom, helplessness into fortitude. His daughter was the only light in his dark path that kept him away from being astray.

Just when Taren thought about starting over, to do things right - Mythal was killed. It was a catastrophe, the world was on fire. The sounds of the blacksmith forging metals filled the sky, soldiers kept marching day and night, the whispers of prayers were heard everywhere Taren goes. Taren had to accompany Elgar’nan, and left Minaya to her own. She was already a healer at this point and she’d be safe at the shelter, while tending those who were injured. If he kept Elgar’nan close, then Taren would knew what was his enemy up to, right ? Because Taren knew, the death of Mythal was one of many Elgar’nan’s shenanigans all along. Because Taren, was indeed, involved in some ways. Elgar’nan overthrew his own father, what made people think that he would not overthrow his own wife too ? 

Mythal was justice, she cared about her people. Taren never saw Mythal soldiers being sent to an unjust war, when she waged a war it was because of a good cause. Never for her pride. Taren secretly respected her, and Mythal’s right hand too. Solas. War after war raged on, it was pointless. It never ends. Until finally Taren found out that the dread wolf led a rebellion army against the Elven gods. Taren always played the obedient pet role to Elgar’nan, so naturally, it would never occur to Elgar’nan that Taren would betray him. And so he did.

Taren joined the rebellion army, along with Minaya. He wanted a redemption, a chance to regain his dignity back after all he had done. His vallaslin was removed by Solas, for Elgar’nan was no longer his master. The path he took now was even more bloody and jaggy, but it also gave him freedom; a privilege to choose his own actions. It felt right. 

Minaya married one of the healers she worked along with. He was a great, honorable man. Taren cried during the ceremony, the joy he felt was overflowing from his chest. She told Taren to not worry about her anymore, and that he should focus on his dreams, on things that made him happy. So Taren did. He worked along with Solas, they gave the freed slave sanctuary from their tyrannical masters. His people defended the valley in which the sanctuary sat, and he protected them all. Many joined him in his fight for freedom from the gods. (x)

The war did not stop though, and at this point Taren and Solas knew that the evanuris would eventually destroy the world, because their lust for power was insatiable. Taren spent most of his life serving under Elgar’nan, he knew what the gods were capable of. So Solas came up with a solution, and he needed Taren’s help to achieve it. The price for it was tremendously huge, but Taren agreed because it was necessary. 

Kill hundreds to save thousands. It was judicious.

Eventually Solas sealed the elvhen gods within the veil, and for that Taren was utterly grateful, but he also felt intense despair and guilt as he watched the fall of Arlathan. His pain was so great, even Minaya could not made it better. She watched him cried all his tears. Taren succumbed into his depression, his life was now devoid of emotions, it extinguished the fire ignited within him.

So he went to uthenera afterwards, and slept for eternity.

Only to be awoken from his long slumber after the Inquisition disbanded. Confused and not knowing whatever happened to his world, he started his journey to relearn his new world, and to find out what happened to his daughter.

---

ps. Minaya is my Lavellan’s ancestor

[theladydreadwolf]

In Another World Chp. 2 (Solavellan Fic)

[I like to thank @bearlytolerable for her idea of having Dirthamen and Falon’Din fight over Britannia and our RP of this has also helped. Thank you, lovely.<3]

Britannia's heavenly voice filled the grand ballroom. She had lost herself within the music. As her slender body swayed, She was unaware that she had caught the attention of the twin gods: Dirthamen and Falon'Din. They cool gazes turned into a dark lust as they watched her. Some members of the Pantheon weren't above taking servants to bed.

Fen'Harel glanced over at the twins and could see them leering at the beautiful songstress. He couldn't blame them, but they had a more sinsiter purpose hidden behind their eyes. Dirthamen leaned in to whisper into Andruil's ear. The rebel narrowed his eyes. He knew the Keeper of Secrets was always deceitful and manipulative when it came to something he wanted.

The smirk that spread across Andruil's face was unsettling. Just as Britannia was beginning to start another song, Andruil stood from the table. "My dear little songbird...One of your betters desire to dance with you.", she glanced over at Dirthamen who also stood. His eyes trailed over her body hungrily and it made Britannia shudder.

She knew Andruil wasn't above loaning our her own slaves to pleasure nobility. She swallowed hard as Dirthamen sauntered onto the ballroon floor towards her. "Do not embarrass me, pet. Or your punishment will be severe.", the huntress had such glee behind those words. Falon'Din suddenly stood from the table, slapping his hands down upon the flat surface.

The god of death's outburst startled the court. Falon'Din and Dirthamen were close, but they were competitive with one another even when it came to taking lovers. "Dirthamen! You knew that I desired to dance with her first! Must you always do this at every gathering?", the other god fumed with jealousy. The Keeper of Secrets merely laughed as he glanced over at his brother, "Perhaps I'm merely better than you, brother."

Falon'Din angrily confronted his brother. Britannia stood there, watching the twin gods bicker. She was too afraid to move, not wanting to face Andruil's wrath. "I dare you to say that again.", Falon'Din narrowed his eyes at his brother. Before Dirthamen could retort, Andruil approached the brothers. "You both will not cause such a disturbance in my house.", her voice was icy as she glared at the twins.

Dirthamen and Falon'Din remained silent and parted ways to go mingle with the others in the ballroom, seeking another for company. Britannia let out a small sigh of relief. The songstress had felt disgusted by the twins' leering looks. She was thankful of their competitive natures.

________________

Fen'Harel watched the twins with amusement as he took a sip from his wine. The two could never control themselves when they desired a beautfiul woman. Seeing them both not getting their way brought a pleased grin on the wolf's face. They were like children to him.

Andruil returned to her place at the table before sitting down with a heavy sigh. "I swear those two can never be civilized at any gathering.", she rubbed her temples in irritation. Ghilan'nain tenderly placed her hand upon her lover's thigh. She gave her lover a soft small before turning her attention to Britannia, "My pet...Since your performance was most lovely, you may go mingle."

At this moment, Fen'Harel stood from his seat. The remaining members of the Pantheon turned their eyes upon the rebel. "Andruil...I wish to dance with your songstress.", he looked at the huntress with a mischievious glint in his eyes. Andruil raised an eyebrow suspiciously, "Finally indulging like the rest of us, wolf?"

Britannia's azure eyes fell upon the rebel god. He desired to dance with her? She didn't know whether to be frightened or honored. He was the beacon of freedom and the bringer of change according to the whispers of her fellow slaves. She could feel her legs beginning to quiver and her palms sweating.

The huntress inclined her head in agreement. "Very well, wolf.", she gestured her hand towards the songstress as a sign of permission. Fen'Harel gave a slight bow of his head towards Andruil before stalking towards her. Britannia took a deep breath to calm her nerves as he approached her.

_______________

Fen'Harel stood before her. She took in the image of him. He was incredibily handsome. She could feel her cheeks burning slightly. Fen'Harel was dressed in black silk with golden vines sprawling across the fabric, his hair was braided and pulled back, and his eyes were breathtakingly blueish-grey. She knew she was staring, but couldn't seem to look away.

Fen'Harel chuckled softly upon her reaction. He bowed to her and offered his hand to her, "Would you do me the honor of dancing with me?" There was a collective gasp throughout the ballroom. Andruil narrowed her eyes at him. He was embarrassing the entire Pantheon by this display. Bowing to a slave was like spitting in every members face.

The wolf inside him cackled wildly. He knew what he was doing. He was a master at this game after all. Dirthamen and Falon'Din glared at him, seething hatred and jealousy in their eyes. Mythal sighed softly because she knew his behavior would have consequences. Judging by Elgar'nan's tight grip upon the arm of his chair, Mythal knew she couldn't calm his temper forever.

_______________

Britannia timidly placed her hand within his own, "Of course, my lord." She spoke softly. She felt his hand close around her own. She looked up at him and their eyes met. The young elf felt her heart racing within her chest as the rebel wrapped an arm around her waist. Britannia was both intrigued and nervous. Her body felt tense.

Fen'Harel began to guide them into the middle of the dance floor with graceful steps. He leaned in to whisper in her ear, "Do not fear me, lethallan. I will not harm you." She shivered slightly at his hot breath upon her ear. The fact that she called her 'kin' reassured her. He treated her as his equal and it brought a small smile on her face.

The tension left her body after hearing his words. The band played a soft, slow melody as the pair danced with such grace. As they twirled across the dance floor, the pair could feel the eyes of the entire court upon them. Fen'Harel cared nothing about how the court felt about him. The only thing on his mind was this beautiful woman in his arms.

"I intend to set you free.", he spoke lowly so no one would overhear them. Her eyes widened in surprise and opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted when he spun her with such fluidity before drawing her to him once more. "T-To set me free?", her voice shook lightly as she whispered. She feared anyone to overhear her.

"If that is what you wish. I cannot stand to see you in Andruil's chains. You deserve to be freed from your cage.", he declared softly. He never missed a beat as they danced elegantly. Her mind and heart was racing. This was her chance to be free. She had been a caged bird for Andruil long enough.

"How, my lord? Mistress Andruil sees all.", she couldn't help the fear that was in her voice. Escaping Andruil was something a slave didn't dare to do. The last time such a feat occurred, the slave's punishment was being hunted by the huntress herself. It was such a cruel and terrifying sentence.

____________

It pained Fen'Harel's heart to see his lovely creature before him terrified. He could see the fear within the blue depths of her eyes. All it did was make him more determined to set her free. Slaves like her are what kept the purpose of his rebellion alive. She would not live in terror any longer not when there's hope he can change things.

"I will send one of my agents for you late into the night. I have had agents canvassing the palace since my arrival. I know where she keeps you.", he admitted lowly into her ear. The wolf was the master of trickery and deceit after all. He had agents in these very halls and Andruil was completely unaware.

Britannia was amazed that he was able to trick the watchful huntress so easily. It pleased her to know even the great Andruil could be fooled. "When will I know when your agent comes for me, my lord?", she questioned in a hushed whisper. The rebel squeezed her hand gently as they continued dancing to the delicate tune.

"My agent will softly knock upon your door three times. They have already meddled with the lock where you will easily be able to exit the room.", he informed her as the melody was soon coming to a close. With one last fluid motion, he dipped her. Their eyes locked and it seemed like time around them stilled.

Surprised gasps and some applause filled the grand ballroom. When their dance finally ended, he drew her against his chest once more. Britannia whispered her gratitude. He gave her a small smile before leaning in to utter softly into her ear once again, "Until then, lethallan." His voice caused her to shiver, but this time not from intimidation.

They took a step back from one another, bowing slightly to each other. He took her hand and placed a small kiss upon her skin. "Ma serannas for the dance, my lady.", he spoke loudly enough for some of the others to hear. He flashed her one last smile before turning away, making his way back to the others. Britannia couldn't help, but stare after him. She would finally be free.

[thebloodychampion]

🎵 (Theron and Elgar’nan?)

"Get down on your knees you slut!"

[thebloodychampion]

Elgar'nan

💬

"I WILL find out who killed my husband, with or without your help."

[thebloodychampion]

" no tight clothes today ? "

Elgar'nan

somewhere around Haven

"Do you think I always wear tight clothes? I cannot run round in them as much as I want to. So no, no tight clothes today. Or are you sad I am not showing off what I have anymore."

[thebloodychampion]

🔞

Elgar’nan

Elgar'nan fucking James so hard and so good that James can’t even get a full word out, only moans and half-uttered curses.

[thebloodychampion]

Elgar'nan

{Both muses wet and cold at the Storm Coast}

“I hate it here!”

@justasimplesecretary​

Elgar’nan looked over to James and sighed, he had his hair brushed away from his face and while he was glad that Dreag had shorter hair than himself, it still felt weird and kind of nasty.

“So why did you come along? I told you I can do this myself.”

[dreadwxlf]

" i did not kill mythal , they did . "

~ DRIVE MY MUSE CRAZY IN 7 WORDS OR LESS ~

  ~   “ But you let her die! ” he snapped, slamming his palms on the table in front of the other elf. Thousands of years of anger were boiling over. For centuries, he had asked himself why Mythal had to die -- why Elgar’nan had not stopped the others. ~

   ~  “ You could’ve stopped them -- you could’ve protected her! ” He realized he was yelling now, and anyone outside his quarters could probably hear him raving in Elvhen. Solas sunk back into his seat, taking a few moments to calm his temper. ~

  ~   “ ...I do not understand why you did nothing. ” His voice was quiet, defeated. “ You claimed to love her...yet she was murdered in your own court. Why didn’t you stop them? ” ~