#fen’an lavellan

[sadwolftears]

Wolf Pup

[nightwingshero]

Belated WIP Wednesday

I was tagged by @madparadoxum, thank you! Sorry its late!

Tagging: @oathofoaksart @jillvalentinesday @sstewyhosseini @alexxmason @marivenah @jinfromyarikawa @glowwormsmith @voidika @chazz-anova @simonxriley @playstationmademe @anonymousmalkavian @inafieldofdaisies @deputyash @ghastlyrider @pheedraws @shegetsburned @aceghosts and anyone else who wishes to share!

Kinda in my Dragon Age phase again...

“So you are here to join the Inquisition then?” Cassandra asked condescendingly, anger making her accent more noticeable. Athera shifted uncomfortably as her eyes darted to me, and I couldn’t help but curl my lip at the Seeker.

“I am here for my cousin.” I replied icily, my fingers twitching just a moment, eager for the daggers I had strapped to my thigh. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the male’s grip on his sword tighten slightly. “The one you wrongfully took prisoner.”

“Evune.” Athera called lightly—pleading—from behind me, her hand resting gently upon the grand, wooden table they had placed in the middle of the room—a war room, I had realized. But I stood between the Seeker—Cassandra, Athera had called her—and my cousin as a few others stood on the other side, including the commander I had threatened not an hour ago. Athera wanted peace, her heart was kind, but mine was not—mine had hardened long ago and I had no faith I could afford to hand out to the people in this room. Not after what I had heard, not after what I had experienced.

Ignoring my cousin entirely, Cassandra and I eyed each other, her glare becoming more prominent as the woman in yellow looked more and more nervous. “I made a decision in the moment, and it was a mistake. The Inquisition wishes nothing more than to fix the Breach and to bring Divine Justinia’s true killer to justice. The capabilities—”

“I am well aware of the capabilities your kind possess.” I held my head higher as Fen’an bared his teeth, his body trying to wrap itself around my legs out of the need to protect. “You call my cousin the ‘Herald of Andraste’, claiming she was sent by your Maker with blatant disregard to the honorary markings upon her face—that is the least of your capabilities, I’m sure.” Athera said nothing at that, the truth of it loud enough to echo in the room. “I have spent time in alienages before I found my family in the Lavellan clan, finally grasping the freedom the Dalish provided. I know what happens to those elves, I know what happened with your Empress of Fire.” Cassandra bunched her fists as she took a step forward, the light from the torches around us making her expression far deadlier.

“That has nothing to do with this!” The scar on her face became more prominent as she frowned, her rage coming off her in waves. “You do your kind no favors bursting in here and holding a blade to our Commander’s throat like some deviant! Instead of approaching peacefully—”

“My cousin is an apostate.” I cut her off quietly, but not softly. “An elven apostate, who you accused of murdering your precious Divine. As if the Chantry was not a danger to her as is, as if the Templars and mages are not at war with each as we speak. Your precious Commander was in no real danger, if he earned his title than he could have easily defended himself without true repercussions. But what of my cousin? Her name smeared despite what good standing our clan has held with the humans we trade with—she would have never recovered from the accusation regardless of her innocence and you want to cry to me about how I was able press my dagger to his throat and let him free?”

“Evune!” Athera hissed as she stepped closer, her grip tight on my arm as she grabbed me. But I didn’t hesitate to turn to her, silver-grey eyes meeting the icy turquoise of my cousin—one that I saw more as a sister.

“Our Keeper sent you to keep an eye on the peace talks, and when we heard of the explosion, we feared for you.” I whispered as I worked hard to keep my voice even, to keep my vision clear, though I felt the threat of tears burn in my throat. “And of course, when it became common knowledge that it was no mere accident, that it was perhaps a murder of the Divine, we feared more. Can you imagine, then, our reaction when we heard it was you that stood accused? With a risk of being shipped off to Val Royeaux? When fear runs high, rumors fly faster, cousin. And your mother became sick with worry over whether you were safe, and she pleaded Deshanna to allow me to hunt you down, and I came here to see for myself that you were in no danger, and to pull you from it if need be.”

[merrybandofmurderers]

finally back to writing!! more from the fic featuring my oc, Yuo Lavellan, @calicostorms's Fen'an, and @evangeline444's Dhaveira

“Aneth ara, hahren,” she greeted, and Yuo relaxed at the familiar words. “You are the one called the Herald?”

He grimaced. “They call me that,” he replied in Elvish. “You can call me Lavellan.”

A smile graced her full lips. “Dhaveira of Clan Alahannon.” A northern clan—very far north, based on her accent. She raised her chin, brushing a lock of long white hair over her shoulder. “The dead have grown restless in the wake of the Breach. We have come to assist the Inquisition in closing it.”

Yuo raised an eyebrow. Beside him, the Inquisition agents shifted uncomfortably. One glanced warily at the staff on her back, another taking in her oddly pale skin and red eyes. Yuo’s lips quirked; his gaze flicked over her shoulder at the warrior—who was staring directly at him.

“We?” Yuo asked, not breaking eye contact with the other elf.

Dhaveira tipped her head in the direction of her companion. “My brother, Fen’an.”

“Fen’an,” he repeated, rolling the syllables over tongue, rough and low. Fen’an’s ears twitched, cheeks darkening. “It’s good to meet you.”

Fen’an cleared his throat. “Yes,” he said, stilted.

Dhaveira’s gaze jumped between them, smile widening.

“Ser!” an Inquisition agent burst in, making a jerky motion with the papers clenched in his hand.

Yuo’s eye twitched, but he dragged his attention away from the intriguing elf. “I have business required of me,” he said in Elvish. “But please stay so we may discuss this further.”

“Of course, hahren,” Dhaveira replied, looking very pleased. She flitted back to Fen’an’s side.

Yuo finally accepted the papers. “Sera!” he called across the camp. “Start dinner, please.”

She blew a raspberry at him but chased down a recruit for provisions.

Yuo allowed the agents to shuffle him over to a command table. He glanced back at their guests. Dhaveira had a hand on Fen’an’s arm, leaning up on her toes to whisper in his ear. He was still looking at Yuo, a deep furrow between his brows. Yuo smirked and winked at him. His eyes widened and skipped away. Dhaveira prodded his side, smile bright and teasing.

An agent cleared her throat uncertainly. Yuo sighed and turned his attention to the duties demanded of him.

@mrs-theirin, @ringneckedpheasant, @fade-and-loathing-in-thedas, @transfenris-truther, @midnightprelude, @championsofthejust

[k9rage]

Tidbit Tuesday

Tagged by @gingerbreadmonsters! Sharing a tiny piece of the ongoing fenyuo [Fen’an Alahannon, my oc, and Yuo Lavellan, @merrybandofmurderers‘ oc] fic now that I’m finally healed up enough to write again. Sorry everyone who follows me for Redacted ASMR stuff, you’ll probably get tired of this one lmao

“Are you settling in well?” Lavellan asked without preamble, arms crossed.

Fen’an paused at the sound of his voice, setting his greataxe and whetstone aside so he could stand for the duration of the conversation. He couldn’t imagine what Lavellan could need from him, but he appreciated being sought out.

“Well enough. Did you need something?” He asked.

Lavellan regarded him, inscrutable, for a long moment. “Have a drink with me at the tavern?”

Tagging nobody this time around, I’m still too tired out from surgery at the moment to remember everyone’s urls

[lavellane]

THE LADY INQUISITOR

Roughly translated, Asha Fen’an - the latest of Lavellan’s many epithets- means ‘woman of the wolf’s heart’. The name appears to be a direct contemporary to the adversarial Fen’harel of Dalish mythology - the wolf trickster. Some say Lavellan herself has lended credence to recent reports that this trickster has resurfaced, and has in fact declared him the newest enemy of her Inquisition. While the threat remains heavily disputed by those outside her innermost circle, those of the Dalish still sympathetic to her cause use the title as a hopeful one – that it shall be one of their own who will finally slay the wolf and cut out its traitorous heart. Others, less charitably, use the name Asha Fen’an in mockery – no doubt referencing the wild claims that the Lady Inquisitor was at one point the lover of this very same Fen’Harel. This remains unfounded speculation, but its mere existence has inadvertently cast Lavellan’s loyalties to the Dalish into question. [template]

[Except from ‘Faces of the Dragon: Figures of Fame and Notoriety Throughout the Dragon Age’ by Brother Genitivi]

[fen-an]

Wasn’t tagged, but saw @galadrieljones post some of her OCs created in this Piccrew and created Fen’an 😊😊 Link below for anyone else interested!

[fen-an]

Omg she looks amazing 😭😭 Ty @elfsplaining!! I can’t wait to see what all these girls get up to 😎😎

Yet another gorgeous addition to the Fen’Harem! Here’s @fen-an‘s lovely FennyWenny I love her so much and had so much fun making her! 

[revel-priest]

━ untouched, pure ━

“ it was in her eyes that he had recalled a moment of weakness. fen was like a little black bird who tilted her head in curiosity as they stared at one another, she was ignorant to the pain that she had wrought. but even then he couldn’t hate her, never.

[feralrosie]

tagged by @hurl-a-can​ thanks dear! Tagging: the same people I just tagged because I’m bullying you  @queerbrujas @narrativefoiltrope  @brightningstar  @m-m-m-myysurana @snarky-warden  @nataliesewll  @strawberryrats  @gothlilly 

(I randomised the ocs because I couldn't choose only one of my children by myself)

OC INFO MEME

B A S I C S :

Full Name: Elrian Lavellan

Gender: Cis male

Sexuality: Gay

Pronouns: He/him

O T H E R :

Family: Eryn Surana (sister), Ellana Lavellan (cousin), Fen’an Lavellan (father) and Athelanna Lavellan (mother)

Birthplace: Free Marches

Job(s): is Inquisitor a job

Phobias: Losing people (opsie), getting lost

Guilty Pleasures: Fashion from Tevinter and Orlais

Hobbies: Reading, playing ocarina, riding

M O R A L S:

Moral alignment: Neutral Good

Sins: lust / greed / envy / gluttony / pride / wrath / sloth

Virtues: charity / chastity / diligence / humility / justice / kindness / patience

T H I S - O R - T H A T :

introvert / extrovert

organized / disorganized

close-minded / open-minded

calm / anxious / restless

disagreeable / agreeable / in-between

patient / impatient

outspoken / reserved (both because that’s part of his character development)

leader / follower / flexible

empathetic / unempathetic

optimistic / pessimistic / realistic

traditional / modern / in-between

hard-working / lazy

R E L A T I O N S H I P S :

OTP: Eldorado aka Elrian x Dorian

Acceptable ships: Honestly? I’ve never thought about any other ships for him. I guess he wouldn’t mind having some fun with Cullen, tho.

OT3: None

BROTP: Varric, Harding and Ellana 

NOTP: asuhdaisuhd I guess Solas? Just. Because.

[sungothx]

this is Fen’an Lavellan, my Dalish Mage Inquisitor!

[theharellan]

An incomplete list of my Solas’ names, listed semi-chronologically:

Da’Fen. An affectionate name given by Wisdom when he was young, and likely was invoked by it throughout their friendship until its death. Only a few know him by this name, and fewer still ever took physical form.

Fen’amelan. A name given by Mythal, more or less translating as “wolf guardian,” it references his role as her protector although later was adopted by the People to represent his expanding role as their guardian. One of the most common names to refer to him by, up until he took on the name Fen’Harel. Obviously when writing with a Mythal this headcanon is flexible and won’t be forced upon them.

Fenara. A name given by the People, but often used by friends. He wore many disguises to walk among the People unnoticed, and eventually earns a name to reference the habit-- “the wolf that wanders.” He had a particular fondness for this name, especially when it was invoked by people who just figured out who he was. Often such cleverness was rewarded, either through a gift or recruitment.

Fen’Samahl. A name almost exclusively used by friends, although I’m sure that there have been people who picked it up after overhearing those close to him use it. It just means “the laughing wolf” and is more or less the ancient elvhen equivalent to “Chuckles” because his laugh has always sounded Like That.

Fen’ghil’an. It means “the wolf that guides” and was given to him by the faithful, mostly invoked by lost travellers, traders about to make a long journey, or on more dire occasions by Andruil’s sacrifices. I should note here that this is a feminine name, and that Solas was not exclusively seen as a masculine entity-- in fact, most often he was seen as neutral (most ancient texts likely refer to him with the neutral len over lan or lin), but there were those who would exclusively or occasionally use she/her pronouns when referencing him.

Fenvir / Fen’an. Two very niche names used during the period just before he broke off to ultimately become Fen’Harel, and only by those who knew his heart. Fenvir references the new path he is on, and Fen’an represents his changing heart. They also likely could have been used after his turn for those who didn’t want to call him something his enemies had named him.

Fen’Harel / Fen’Harellan / Fen’Harillen. Names given to him by his enemies, intended as an insult but adopted by the revolution and by Fen’Harel himself. It means both “wolf traitor” and “rebel wolf” and can invoke either a terrifying god-monster bent upon destroying the people he was meant to protect, or a person who has upheld the meaning of his ancient names even if it meant turning against those who gave them to him. Fen’Harel is a strange name which contributes to Solas’ ill feelings towards it, to some it is a god’s name, to others it is a hero’s name, to others still it is a monster’s name, albeit a divine monster, rarely is it is his name. Especially after the creation of the Veil. Also interesting to note that the gender of the noun associated with the name is feminine.

Solas. A name he chose for himself after he wakes, representing both his own self-admitted pride and the pride of the elves. Pride isn’t an inherently negative thing, least of all to a race of people whose pride has been purposefully stripped from them, and I don’t believe every Fade denizen who represents Pride is necessarily demonic or violent in nature. But getting into that would be opening up another discussion about the nature of spirits so we won’t be getting into that. One thing I should note is that if someone notes that “Solas” is a strange thing to name a child, if he has a positive relationship with that person he will mention that he wasn’t born with that name, although if someone responds by asking what his real name is he will greatly disapprove. I have written a little fic about Thora and Solas discussing his (and hers) names and their meanings here for an example of what I mean. In addition to those who knew Solas in the Inquisition, those who are close to Solas and understand ancient Elvhen naming conventions and his feelings about his own names are likely to call him Solas, too. At least under certain circumstances.

Chuckles. It counts as a name in his mind, and one of the few he’ll accept as gladly as he does Solas. How you interpret the meaning of Varric’s nickname varies and I will leave that up to any Varrics I write with, personally I tend to see it as literal rather than ironic as the first time he invokes it in-game is after Solas snort-laughs. I also think he had this nickname before you as the Herald meet Solas or Varric (they obviously know each other if Solas is giggling over the prospect of Varic being with the Chantry) but again I ultimately leave that up to Varrics.

Vhenan / Sal’shiral. Affectionate nicknames given to him by Ian over the course of their relationship, but begin to feel as real as any other name he’s been called, especially when they rendezvous in the Fade and the full meaning of what Ian feels when he says it can be felt. Shout-out to Ala (seahaloed) for giving me feelings about this.

Many of his old names may provoke negative feelings in Solas, as they’re names associated with his false divinity or are easy to project onto on a scale that can be disorienting. When people called upon Fen’ghil’an or Fen’amelan for protection, they called upon him, but also they didn’t. It’s one reason Solas is a more comfortable name for him, it’s the one he owns completely.

And one final name:

Lavellan. You may have noticed Solas has never had a last name! In my modern Thedas verse he does invent one, but he doesn’t put as much weight in them as he does first names (I don’t think Elvhenan quite had surnames, as nuanced meaning could be put in one name or dispersed over several). In the Dragon Age not having a last name is pretty acceptable for lower classes, and therefore suitable for an apostate elf dressed in rags. However, when Solas does marry Ian he takes his last name as a symbol of their joining. In modern Thedas it’s the first time he ever gives his students the option to call him by his last name, as before he typically instructed them to call him by his first name and the more polite students would just have to suffer or call him “Professor Solas.”

This is all 100% fanon/headcanon and diverges from canon, please don’t reblog this unless we’re rp partners!

[anderfels]

*slides in* please tell me about your Lavellan

MY LAVELLAN, YES. 

OKAY, SO.

His name is Davhalla. It means “little gift,” I think? That’s what the book of names I chose from said lksfjasdjk and I thought it was cute. 

He is a ball of sunshine. He’s almost always smiling, tries to see the brighter side of things, and does his best to keep people happy! This does, however, have the unintended side effect of irritating people because lol he’s also incapable of shutting up and he can lay it on pretty thick. You could be knee deep in wyvern dung and he’d be like, “At least it isn’t chest deep!” 

Building on that, he’s a doormat. He’ll bend over backwards for some people, and he sorts of... makes a version of himself that he thinks that person would like. 

He’s great friends with Cole, Josephine, and, strangely, Iron Bull. His relationship with Solas is complicated in the way that he hates the way Solas talks about the Dalish sometimes but also... Solas has that sweet, sweet knowledge. 

He has a strange obsession with sweetrolls. He will gorge himself on them if he is not stopped. 

His most prized possession is a small, wooden halla that his father, the clan’s smith, carved for him for his birthday when he was ~9. On every subsequent birthday, he carves a small notch into the base. He brings it with him everywhere--even to the Temple of Sacred Ashes as it was able to fit into one of his pouches. It survived, which you can either chalk up to its resilience or the fact that I don’t have the heart to destroy it, and now has a permanent place on his desk. 

He likes collecting flowers for him to press back at Skyhold. His justification is that 1) they’re pretty and 2) they’re gifts for his best friend (Iveani, the First to the Keeper) and older sister (Fen’an, an huntress who specializes in archery) for when he eventually returns to his clan. 

Has a complicated relationship with having the title of Inquisitor. On one hand, he can use it to help people and that’s nice! But on the other hand, he’s become an icon for a religious institution that has historically oppressed his people, which is very much not nice.

(Although I guess that doesn’t matter anymore, as he disbanded the Inquisition after he events of Trespasser lol.) 

He’s very proud of his Dalish heritage and culture (hence the complicated relationship with Solas), and doesn’t stand for when people slight it. He doesn’t mind if people ask questions about it, as long as it’s from a place of genuine curiosity and not just an insult disguised as a question. 

He has the worst poker face of All Time. 

He’s Trying His Best. 

[calicostorms]

wip tag game

Tagged by @merrybandofmurderers ! Tagging @just-call-me-angel n @lacecovered n @bicyclepainting!

rules: post the names of all the files in your wip folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it.

Dragon Age wips:

Fire That Does Not Burn [Markas Cadash x Josephine]

Darshiral [Nydha Lavellan x Dorian]

Conflicts of Interest [Meraad Adaar x Lenamar Dax (oc)]

Warmth In A Cold Place [Nydha Lavellan x Rajmael Anise (oc)]

Fire Unquenched [Yuo Lavellan x Fen’an Alahannon]

Redacted Audio wips:

V1309 Scorpii [Avior x Starlight]

In Blackest Envy [Tattoo Artist!Vega x Pet]

Just Wanna Have Fun [Gavin x Aaron x Smartass]

Marks of Ownership [Vega x Pet]

Holiday Vignettes [Various]

[leaphia]

Thenera Lavellan requested by @dirthenera  and Fen’an Lavellan requested by @rivainisomniari

[imakemywings]

Once, Lavellan would have gone to Solas without question on the matter. Now, she hesitated—but she went anyway. There was no one she could think of who was better to discuss it with, even then. Recalling what Vivienne had told her about strength and armor—and knowing that Sera would not care or understand the import of what had happened—Lavellan entered the rotunda.

He was surprised. Seeing his face when he looked up from his desk, she knew he had not expected to see her there again, after their last conversation there. The memory of it echoed in both their minds—she could see it in his eyes. He thought she had come again to press him about why he had left her.

“I saw Asha’bellenar,” she said. A different look passed over Solas’ face—relief? Disappointment? Concern? She couldn’t tell. “She and Mythal—they are one and the same. I have spoken with Mythal.” The reality of that was still sinking in—for Lavellan and Morrigan.

“You have?” That was interest—she knew that gleam in his eyes, the way his hands stilled.

“She was there, at the temple.” Lavellan spoke softly, almost as if recounting a dream. Slowly, she moved into the room, but turned her attention not on Solas, but the mural behind him. How strikingly similar it was to the elven art of old—she imagined he had much time to study it at its peak in the Fade, perhaps even more beautiful than it had been in life. “Mythal. She looked human.” Solas did not speak, but Lavellan knew this was not a sign of disinterest—he was waiting for her to continue. The path forward was difficult—Lavellan struggled with the words, the feelings.

“What did she say?” Solas prompted her after the pause of Lavellan trying to phrase her words had grown too long.

“I asked her where she has been,” Lavellan said, a plaintive note creeping into her voice. “Why she has not answered our prayers. She would not answer me!” Her voice broke and she swallowed hard, trying to compose herself. Always too quick to tears, Fen’an had told her. “She would not answer. But she is free—she walks the earth. If Mythal, why not others? Are they broken free? Elgarn’an, Falon’din, Andruil? Have they been here all along? If they are, why have they left us alone? Why have they abandoned us?” Her tone turned to demands, hearing her own pitiable voice in the clearing, begging Mythal for answers. She touched her chin, then remembered her vallaslin was no longer there. For a savage moment,she was glad she had allowed Solas to strip away the brand of a god who had done nothing to protect the elves from centuries of repression.

               Does no one care for the People?” she cried, turning to Solas with burning eyes. “Is no heart softened to our plight? If Mythal cares not for us, then who will? Do they not see how we have suffered? Does it not move them? What did we do that was so terrible? What did we do that we have earned such a fate? To walk the earth alone, treated like vermin, despised from every corner, robbed of everything that makes us what we are? If Mythal will not free us from the Dread Wolf’s curse, then we are nothing to her!” She looked away from him, wishing to hide her tears. Solas thought little of the elven gods, this she knew already— if he even believed her that she had seen Mythal, she was sure he would not be taken aback by her betrayal. It did not wrench his heart as it did hers, after a lifetime of prayer and devotion to gods she believed would have offered aid if they could.

“The gods have not spoken for a thousand years,” Solas said quietly to her. “Why does their silence bother you now?”

“Before, we thought they had no choice,” Lavellan said, breathing deeply to steady her voice. She turned her eyes up the walls, following the tallest spires of the mural. “They had been trapped, silenced by Fen’harel. Hidden away from us by his treachery. Of course the Dread Wolf would bring down a curse upon us—he has never had love for the People. But Mythal...if she walks freely, then she has had a choice.” She turned again to look at Solas, scrutinizing his face for answers. Perhaps that was why she had come—she still believed he had answers. His face was impassive, but there was a tightness to the set of his mouth that belied total disinterest. “She had a choice, and she has chosen to stay silent. To leave us to our fate. It was only once Morrigan had drunk from the vir'abelasan that she came to us. The vir'abelasan, which the sentinels fought to keep us from, as if she did not wish to speak with us.”

“Perhaps she is not as strong as she once was,” Solas suggested. “Perhaps the Dread Wolf spared her for something.”

“But to say nothing! To leave us lost and pining! Even if she were too weak to help, she could have reached out to us. Let us know that she was there, that she cared. That anyone cared!” A few agitated paces took her by Solas’ desk and then back again. “There are those who believe the gods are dead, or gone for good. That there is nothing left of them, and the keepers simply refuse to admit it. Others who believe the gods never were, are only fairytales along with the Maker. I have never believed such things—I have seen the gods, in the beauty and singularity of the world! But if they will not aid us...if they have looked upon our suffering with hardened hearts...if even Mythal will not raise a hand to guide us...perhaps our only salvation will come from ourselves.” Her eyes studied the floor. What would she tell Keeper Deshanna? The rest of the clan? The more she learned of her people’s past, the more painful it became to share it. How tired she was of this hurt!

“If the gods are real,” Solas said, “and they have abandoned the elves for so long— are those really the types of beings you wish to pray to for aid?”

“If,” Lavellan echoed. She lifted her gaze to Solas’ face. “You do not believe that I saw Mythal?”

“Perhaps what you saw was a powerful mage who has taken on her mantle,” he said. Rare anger flared in Lavellan’s breast.

“You think I was fooled,” she said, her voice trembling. “You think the poor, desperate, ignorant Dalish was fooled by some human mage taking the name of one of my gods.” Immediately, Solas put his hands up in surrender.

“I only meant...I am sure the situation is complicated, Inquisitor. This upsets you. I’m sorry I do not fully understand your position.” The spark of temper drained out of Lavellan with Solas’ use of her title; she deflated like a paper lantern left out in the rain after a festival.

“I thought you would understand better than Sera,” she murmured. “Perhaps I was wrong.” Solas said nothing, so Lavellan walked away. There was no one among her friends and advisors who could understand her position—the two who might had rejected the elven gods and the Dalish and resisted all of her efforts to include them in ‘our people’. Vivienne and Dorian were lovely, dear friends, but humans who could not understand how the world looked to a Dalish mage. Cassandra was noble and loyal, but she could never feel with the Maker what Lavellan now felt about Mythal. Josephine might lend a sympathetic ear, and Cole might experience empathy with her situation, but neither of them could feel the reverberations of these realizations that would ripple through the lives of all the elves.

“Inquisitor.” As she reached for the door, Solas called lightly after her. She twisted to look at him. “It is possible there is more to the situation that Mythal did not explain,” he said.

“Why? Why would she not give me the truth?”

“I am not her; I cannot say. Only that where ‘gods’ are concerned, things are rarely simple.” She supposed it was Solas’ way of trying to comfort her without having to express any belief that the gods were any better than her worst suspicions. Bedside manner was not a strong suit of his. But once, she thought, he would have made more of an effort, or invited her to sit a while and gather her thoughts. Now she could see her very presence made him ill at ease, and she did not have the energy to fight it.

“No, it seems they never are,” she said, and took her leave.

[fen-an]

Soooooo in love with this commission by @mako-art of my girl Fen’an 💜💖💜 Thank you so much!