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tired-truffle · 29 days ago

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Something’s Gotta Give

A CullenxLavellan fic

Chapter Word Count: 3.6k

Part 22 - Be My Shield

Tag list: @bloodoflathander

“You will never be clean from sin. Rotten children don't deserve heaven.

There is no god who could give you your purity back.” - Unknown

Masterlist

“It is not every day that one sees the Inquisition’s Commander blushing like a schoolgirl,” Leliana said in lieu of greeting as she fell into step beside Ash. She kept her voice down, her eyes sparkling with mirth. Ash hadn’t seen where the spymaster had come from, but she could have sworn that when she exited the door that led from the Great Hall to Rae’s room, Leliana hadn’t been anywhere in the vicinity.

Ash raised an eyebrow. “Was he?”

Leliana’s lips split into a conspiratorial grin. “Like a ripe tomato upon leaving the Inquisitor’s quarters. Given that you just came from there, perhaps you would have some insight?”

“Do your crows and scouts not give you enough gossip, Lady Nightingale?”

“I was simply curious, the Commander refused to answer me.”

Rolling her eyes, Ash curled a strand of damp hair around her finger. “He interrupted my bath, it was only fair.”

Leliana let out a melodious laugh that rang through the stone corridors, echoing off the arched ceiling. “I had no idea you were so…generous in your hospitality.” She leaned closer. “Please tell me you gave him a proper showing.”

Ash couldn’t suppress the blush creeping up her cheeks - an unwelcome heat that contrasted sharply with the chill still lingering from her interrupted bath. She could picture Cullen's face, radiant crimson as he stammered an apology, stepping back as if he’d been caught stealing cookies from the kitchen. “It was…” she began, but the words seemed to slip away as visions of him standing there, wide-eyed and tongue-tied, echoed in her mind. She sighed, “Everything was perfectly covered by a towel, the spitting image of propriety. Even I draw the line somewhere.”

Leliana’s gaze lit up like a child who’d been offered a sweet. “One does not simply ‘interrupt’ a lady in her bath without facing consequences,” she replied with a smirk. “I can only imagine how he must have stammered through his apologies. I wish I could have been present to witness it.”

“Stammered?” Ash laughed openly now. “He barely managed to form coherent words! It was as if he had stumbled upon some great crime rather than an innocent elf in a towel.” She tucked another damp curl behind her ear.

“I am not certain ‘innocent’ is what I would use to describe you.” Leliana grinned, and gave Ash no time to respond as she turned on her heels, her laughter trailing behind like a whisper of wind through the ancient stones of Skyhold. Ash watched her go, unable to suppress a small smile despite the heat still blooming in her cheeks.

Taking a deep breath, Ash tried to shake off the embarrassment that clung to her like damp fabric. She smoothed down her robes and headed toward the door that led into Solas' rotunda.

She spotted Varric standing by the fireplace prior to entering, his familiar silhouette framed against flickering flames as he leaned casually against the wall. His signature crossbow, Bianca, was slung over his shoulder. Ash waved as she went past, earning her a lazy grin in return.

Pushing open the heavy wooden door, stepped into the familiar space of Solas' rotunda. Typically, it was nothing more than a path towards where she met with Dorian in the library, and today it was…still a path, though this time towards the courtyard.

Ash's eyes were immediately drawn upward to the wooden platform that served as Solas' personal quarters. It was an unusual arrangement, but one that seemed to suit the apostate. Though the sight before her made her pause. Solas was kneeling beside his bedroll, his hands moving with quick motions as he removed…lizards?

Ash blinked, unsure if her eyes were playing tricks on her. But no, there was no mistaking it. Solas was carefully plucking small, wriggling lizards from his bedding and placing them in a bucket beside him. His face was a mask of concentration, his brow furrowed as he worked.

For a moment, Ash simply stared, her mind struggling to reconcile the absurdity of the scene with the generally composed and austere image that Solas projected. She watched as he reached for another lizard, his long fingers deftly scooping it up and depositing it with its brethren.

It was then that Solas sensed her presence. He looked up, his piercing eyes locking with hers. For a heartbeat, they simply stared at each other, Ash's lips twitching with the effort of suppressing a grin, Solas' expression unreadable.

Finally, Solas let out a deep, resigned sigh. "Don't ask," he said, tinged with a hint of exasperation. He turned his attention back to the task at hand, pointedly ignoring her.

Ash bit her lip, fighting the urge to laugh. The sight of Solas, the ever-serious apostate, engaged in such a mundane and slightly ridiculous task was almost too much to bear. The laughter bubbled up inside her, and she quickly made her way out of the room before she couldn’t hold it back any longer.

She was relatively certain she knew who was responsible for such a scene, and as Ash headed towards the Tavern to congratulate Sera for her ingenuity, she made a note to slip the girl some extra coin, a tip for her services.

***

Flames flickered, smoke turned acrid, charred like the skeletal remains of the men that lay all around her. Fire clung to the grass, to the wagon filled with their stolen goods. She was eight years old and thirty-one, the Archdemon’s gapping maw filling with scorching heat, raining down on her, burning her as she had done to those men.

“Ashvalla,” a low voice spoke her name, but she could not tear her eyes away from the bonfire, locked in her panic like a prison cell.

A strong hand grasped her upper arm, the one without the remnants of the Archdemon’s flames, and her name was called again. But her jaw remained slack, her vision sharpening and blurring in rapid succession as she tried in vain to banish the images that clouded her mind. Her breathing was shallow and uneven, her body wouldn’t listen, and Love shivered in her chest.

A frame covered in metal plating, soft fabrics, and a fluffy collar stepped into view, blocking the fire that had stopped her in her evening stroll across the courtyard. They were burning scrap wood from their building and excavations of Skyhold, easier than lugging it all away out of the fortress.

“Ashvalla, look at me,” the low voice tried again, his grip tightening on her arm. But this time, she blinked away the dryness of her eyes and shook herself, turning her focus to the crease that had formed between Cullen’s brows, and the downturn of his lips. “Are you alright?”

Plastering on a smile, she rolled her shoulders back, shoving down the memories as though they were dirty laundry she was trying to ignore. “Yes, sorry, just got lost in thought. You know how it is.”

It wasn’t her best save, but it would have to do for now. The blush that rose to her cheeks didn’t help much either, and judging from the disbelief that pulled at the corners of his eyes, he was not so easily fooled.

“You’re a terrible liar.”

Her smile dropped, heaving a sigh as her gaze flickered over his shoulder, the tips of the biting flames teasing her. “I’m usually better at it. It just…caught me off guard.” Ash turned her head away, wrapping her arms around herself as she worried her lip. She’d only just left the tavern, having spent most of the day with Bull and Sera, she’d been on her way to seek out the Commander, when she’d come upon the fire.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” The patience in his tone did little to soothe her embarrassment, though she appreciated the effort.

“I know,” she said quickly before he could continue his attempt to make her feel better. “I…should probably go.” She hated this vulnerability, the quicker she could escape the better, even if it was rather abrupt.

Cullen’s hand dropped from her arm, his warmth leaving with it, and she wished desperately for it to return - or it may have been Love’s wish, the spirit spinning happily in her chest at Cullen’s attention.

“Right,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “I have paperwork to finish.”

“You always have paperwork to finish.” Ash couldn’t help herself, the need to tease him ever-present and grounding, though she didn’t want to admit it. “You should walk with me instead.”

She hadn’t meant to say that, but it had stumbled from her lips nonetheless, much too eager. But Cullen’s eyes lit up and she couldn’t bring herself to regret it.

He chuckled dryly, shaking his head as a slight smirk pulled at his lips. "And risk falling behind on my duties? You drive a hard bargain, Lady Lavellan."

If it hadn’t been entirely inappropriate, Ash would have lifted her robes and fanned her loins. Instead, she squeezed her thighs shut and her core begged for relief. Lady Lavellan…it was like he wanted her to have a heart attack.

“Yet you're still here.”

“For some unfathomable reason.”

Ash looped her arm around his, grinning up at him, and setting a slow walking pace. “It’s the tits, men are powerless to resist them.”

The Commander choked on the air he was inhaling and quickly turned away, coughing to cover up the shock and - if her ears did not deceive her - laughter.

Ash giggled, pressing herself closer to his side, though careful not to trip him as he recovered. A blush spread down his neck, and Ash wanted to press her lips against his heated skin.

As the shock slowly wore off and his blush faded, he said, “You can’t say things like that, you know that, right?”

Ash shrugged. “It wasn’t that hard.”

Cullen glared at her, though it was softened by the lingering blush on his cheeks, and that he did not make any move to disconnect her from his arm. “You know what I mean.”

Tilting her head to the side, she looked up at him, taking in the tightness around his lips, the tenseness of his shoulders. Had she truly made him uncomfortable, pushed past the line? Should she have been more shrewd, less loud and straightforward?

“I’ll stop if you want me to,” she said with a gentle sincerity so different from her teasing mere seconds ago that he blinked rapidly at her, seemingly stunned by the rapid change in tone.

Cullen’s throat bobbed, his face reddening once more. “No, you don’t have to stop entirely…just—” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I’ll do my best to be more subtle, if that’s what you’d prefer.” She could easily infer what he meant, and would have no qualms with obliging. She should have guessed he wouldn’t like her blatant flirtations - much easier to pretend that they weren’t real that way. “A whisper in your ear next time.”

The Commander stumbled, though Ash’s grip on his arm caught him before his face met the ground, his voice strangled as he choked out, “Maker’s breath!”

He stopped and turned to look down at her, his face burning and his eyes wide. “You just–you…”

Ash could only antagonize him for so long before she regained her mercy. She patted his cheek, his skin hot beneath hers. “You’ve been a wonderful distraction. My mind feels clearer already.”

The Commander huffed, though a small grin began to form on his lips. “You’re trying to flatter me into forgiving your comments, aren’t you?”

“Is it working?”

The Commander gave her a long, blank stare. “Yes,” he said reluctantly, “against my better judgment, it is working.”

Ash clapped once. “Wonderful,” she said, and tugged him along.

“Have you heard anything from Rae? The last missive I saw said she was going to be back tomorrow,” Ash asked to change the subject.

The Commander nodded, eager to focus on non-flirtatious matters. “That’s what the last letter said, yes. Though I honestly cannot remember the last time she returned on time or even bothered to notify us she was late for that matter.”

Ash chuckled, well aware of her sister’s inability to keep time. “I wish I could say she hasn’t always been this way, but I can’t count the number of times I thought my heart would stop when she’d come home late from a hunt or disappear into the woods around our clans camp and it’d take hours to find her.”

“She seems to have a talent for hiding,” Cullen admitted, “I can scarcely imagine what the rest of us, or more specifically Josephine, would do without Leliana’s reports. We’d probably be half-mad with worry by now.”

He glanced down at her, something that Ash couldn’t identify in his shifting in his tone. “You two are quite close.” An understatement meant as a probing question.

“It was just the two of us after our parents died. We had our clan, of course, and I love them, but it isn’t the same.”

“If you don’t mind me asking…” he began, pursing his lips. “How old were you when your parents passed? You and the Inquisitor, I mean.”

What would it take for Cullen to drop the honorifics? He was talking about her sister and they were having a private - or as private as it could be as they strolled towards the gardens - conversation. Templar training must have deeply entrenched that ‘respect’ for command.

“I was eight and she was five.” Ash kept her gaze trained ahead of them, unwilling to see his face soften with pity or sympathy. He was smart enough to connect this with what she’d told him of her past already. She’d been eight when her parents died and eight when she’d murdered a large group of men.

“My condolences,” the gentleness of his tone made her want to flee, “though they are a little late, I’m afraid.”

She resisted the urge, it was normal for someone to feel sad on behalf of an orphan. Shooing away her discomfort, she smiled, though it did not entirely reach her eyes. “Thank you, Commander, but we were so young, it wasn’t that difficult to adapt. We had our clan to help raise us, though I did find myself more often than not in charge of Rae’s wellbeing. She was…is a lot sometimes. I was the only one who stood a chance at corralling her, with little success.”

“She’s always been a troublemaker, I take it?”

With the topic changed to her sister, Ash’s shoulders relaxed. “You have no idea. One time she managed to get a hive of bees and release them in the tent of the boy who was bullying her. Suffice it to say he stopped after that.”

“I can’t say I’m necessarily surprised, though I cannot help but wonder her reason for such an…elaborate punishment.”

“He was cruel,” Ash said simply. She hadn’t been upset with Rae’s actions at the time, though she had worried about their clan's reaction. ‘Rae was just playing a prank she took too far, I promise she won’t do it again’, Ash had explained, and her clan leaders did not believe a word, but had been appeased enough by her grovelling that they didn’t push it. “It was important she learn to stand up for herself. His parents didn’t take me seriously when I yelled at them about it, so we had to take matters into our own hands. I didn’t think she’d get an entire beehive though.”

He paused, thoughtful consideration in the downward pull of his frown. “How did she manage that?”

“She won’t tell me!” Ash threw her free hand up in frustration. “She still keeps it a secret.”

He chuckled and grew quiet for a moment, the gears turning in his head so loud that she could almost hear them. “What about you, when you were growing up? Were you the same?”

What was all this questioning about? Had she not already told him enough about her past?

“I always follow the rules.” She held her head high and prepared for his incoming disagreement.

He shook his head slowly, smirking, much too attractive for being so close to her - though in all fairness she was the one who had closed the distance. “I’m having immense trouble believing that.”

“I’m serious.” She smacked his arm lightly. “I didn’t break a single rule. I had to be the most perfect mage to be allowed to stay with the Clan. The Dalish only allow The Keeper and the First to the Keeper, every other mage born to the clan must leave and venture out on their own. I had some stiff competition so I was always on my best behaviour.”

“Of course you would turn out to be the good child…” he mumbled under his breath, not entirely believing her.

“I’ll have you know that the Keeper loved me. Rae on the other hand…well, there was a reason she was sent on a dangerous mission to the Conclave.” Her eyes darkened, her jaw clenching as she withheld her barely simmering rage.

The Keeper's words echoed in her ears, cold and dismissive: "Mirae will represent our clan at the Conclave." It had been a thinly veiled excuse to be rid of her troublesome sister - at least for a few weeks - a dangerous gambit that could have easily ended in Rae's death. The thought made Ash's blood boil, her fingers tightening unconsciously around Cullen's arm.

The Commander’s smirk faded. “She was sent to the Conclave because she was troublesome as a child?”

“And an adult,” Ash corrected. “They never admitted it, but yes. I suspect that was a large part of the reason, besides her skill. She was expendable.”

Cullen remained quiet, opening his mouth to speak, but unable to find the right words. Unwilling to sit in the darkened mood - the Commander had enough to deal with without her anger towards her clan added to the pile - she took a deep breath as though she could inhale and swallow her feelings. “But there’s nothing I can do about that now. And Rae is alive, that’s what matters.”

He watched her for a moment, his gaze scrutinizing in its intensity, before he sighed. “No, I suppose there isn’t.”

Ash and Cullen continued their stroll as they passed the gardens, the scent of embrium and crystal grace flowing on the breeze. The sun hung low in the sky, the soft light catching in Cullen's golden hair and casting a warm glow across his features. Ash found herself entranced by the sight, her eyes tracing the strong lines of his jaw, the curve of his lips, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled.

It was all too soon that it was over, and they were standing in front of her bedroom. She released his arm, turning to lean her back against the door, her chin tilted up so she could see him - she wasn’t sure she would ever get tired of admiring his handsome features.

“Thank you for accompanying,” she said, her hands clasped tightly behind her.

Cullen smiled, a genuine curve of his lips that made Ash's heart flutter in her chest. "It was…" He paused, his eyes locking with hers, amber meeting emerald and stealing the breath from her lungs. "It wasn't a problem at all for me."

His voice was low, almost a whisper, as if he were sharing a secret meant only for her ears. A delicious tingle spread from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. She couldn't look away, couldn't break the connection that had formed between them, as tangible as a physical touch.

Cullen's eyes were molten, swirling with emotions Ash couldn't quite decipher. There was warmth there, and a hint of something else, something that made her pulse race and her skin heat. She felt drawn to him, like a moth to a flame, helpless to resist.

Time seemed to stretch, seconds turned to hours as they stood there, lost in each other's gaze. Ash's lips parted, a soft exhale as she struggled to find her voice. "I'm glad," she said, the words barely more than a breath.

Reluctantly, she tore her gaze from Cullen's, her hand finding the doorknob behind her. The metal was cool against her flushed skin. She turned it, the click of the latch sounding unnaturally loud in the charged silence that had fallen between them.

"Goodnight, Commander," Ash said with a wistful lilt. She stepped back, the door swinging open to reveal the inviting warmth of her room beyond. It took every ounce of her willpower to cross the threshold - to not invite him inside - to put that distance between them when all she wanted was to stay lost in his eyes forever.

As the door began to close, Ash heard Cullen's reply, so quiet she almost missed it. "Goodnight, Ashvalla. Rest well."

The door clicked shut, and Ash leaned against it, her eyes fluttering closed as she replayed the moment in her mind. The way he had gazed at her, the depth of emotion in his eyes, the gentle timbre of his voice - it was all burned into her memory, a precious treasure she would keep forever. Even when this was all over and they inevitably parted ways, she would hold onto this. It meant too much to her, and while her affection for the Commander frightened her - how much was her and how much was Love? - it was too late to back away now. He was stuck in her heart, and she no longer wished to turn him out.

Next Chapter

A/N: Had to get a little more sweetness in before the smut and all the fun stuff that comes with that - she's gonna handle all her emotions so well...haha...

If anyone is wondering about the lizards in Solas’ bedroll, it comes from this banter, I highly recommend checking it out, it always makes me laugh.

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runningwolf62 · 27 days ago

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That Sort of Evening

Title is a riff on Dorian's line at the end of The Last Resort of Good Men.

"At any rate, time to drink myself into a stupor. It’s been that sort of day. Join me sometime, if you’ve a mind."

An evening between Brennan Trevelyan and Dorian Pavus, companions to the Inquisitor Ena Lavellan, and a discussion of family and future talks.

"Dorian." Brennan halted a short distance from the other man, where he sat in the Herald's Rest, a corner to himself, and the bottle of wine he'd ordered.

Dorian looked up at him, and blinked once. "Ah. Brennan. I fear I'm... not in a particularly joyous mood."

Brennan huffed slightly and gave him a sympathetic look, "after the day you've had I bet." He took a breath and asked, "can I join you?"

Dorian narrowed his eyes at him a moment, before he gestured with the half-empty glass in his hand to the empty chair across from him. Brennan took the offered seat and shifted until he was comfortable.

“I did mean it, you know. I am poor company tonight.”

“That’s fine.” Brennan reached for a glass, and at Dorian’s nod, poured himself some wine. “I don’t expect you to entertain me, Dorian. I just thought you shouldn’t be alone tonight. And no, the bottle does not count.”

Dorian’s lips curled slightly, “I was not about to make that argument, believe it or not. If you insist on being in my presence though, I will ask something of you.”

Brennan raised his cup, “I am already drinking wine, what more can I do for you?”

“I- I have heard of your own family.” Brennan set the glass down. “Ah. So the rumors are somewhat true then.”

“Asides from us being related?”

“Asides from that.”

Silence fell between them, though the tavern continued to thrum with life and noise, conversations beyond theirs, the sounds of Meryden playing. The song was not one Brennan knew, and he did his best to tune it out, focused instead on what Dorian had just said.

He wet his lips, and stared at his wine glass, “I suppose, I should start with what you’ve heard.”

“Not as much as you seem to fear. That you are from a noble house in Ostwick.”

“The noble house in Ostwick, though only the eighth most impressive, last I checked.” Brennan corrected quietly, “the Bann of Ostwick is my older sister.”

Dorian made a noise to show he’d heard, and then continued, “and that you are on poor terms with them, and that they’ve made their displeasure at your continued presence here known.”

Brennan debated downing the wine to avoid answering, as he looked away from Dorian, unsure he wanted to see what was on his face as he asked these questions. Dorian may have his own family history, and he’d made clear he was a pariah but he and Brennan were very different people.

“I- I was an accident.” He started there, because it was the easiest place to start, “I’m six years younger than my brother. Eight years younger than my sister. No one knew what to do with me. I-” he sighed heavily and shook his head, “they would want me to come back, to report everything to them, maybe tout me about as someone who has served the Inquisition, met the Herald of Andraste.”

“How would they feel about the fact she’s an elf?”

“As long as I kept my mouth shut, it doesn’t matter.” Brennan took a sip of the wine, it was drier than he liked, but he was hardly surprised, Dorian seemed to prefer those flavors. “That’s how it always is. As long as they can present something pretty, it doesn’t matter what the truth is.”

Dorian gave a bark of laughter at that, and poured himself more wine, “a feeling I know all too well. I take it you are also not a fan of playing along?”

“Dorian, in the time you’ve known me, how good have I been at not saying what I’m thinking?” Brennan scoffed and shook his head, he smiled but it hurt, it hurt deep in his chest to talk about this, “I’m shit at politics. That’s why they kicked me to the Templars. Couldn’t manage that either.”

Dorian watched him curiously, a sort of slow curiosity that Brennan suspected was a mix of the wine and general exhaustion from the day he’d had. Like a cat that had been awoken from a nap and wasn’t fully sure if it should watch what was happening or get comfortable again. “You mentioned that before, and I’ve heard a bit about that. You were kicked out?”

“Decked a senior templar across the face for mocking some mages that were scared of their upcoming Harrowing.” Brennan grit his teeth at the memory and reached up to rub at the bridge of his nose, “that’s how this happened.”

Dorian squinted at him, “I had noticed the break to your nose, a charming feature honestly. More so now. He hit you back then?”

“Lucky he didn’t knock my teeth out,” Brennan admitted quietly, “and I got sent home with a broken nose, bruises, and a tattoo. My parents were furious about all of them.” He took a sip of his wine, “your turn.”

“Oh, you wish to hear about me? My favorite subject. I would assume you’re curious as to what my father did that incurred such anger from me?”

Brennan paused, there was an edge to Dorian’s voice and his mind was screaming that it was directed at him. “If you want to tell me.”

Dorian laughed darkly, “when I said he tried to change me, I did not mean with an argument. He found out about my preferences, and sought a blood magic ritual to change me.”

Brennan was glad he wasn’t taking a drink at that very moment, “did- Ena didn’t know that when she told you to speak to him, right?”

“She did not.” Dorian confirmed, “she simply knew that my father had done something to hurt me. She did come to me about the letter, she did not have me walk in blind to try and dictate my life.”

Brennan sat back in his chair to regard Dorian. “Well. Shit. Would- Can blood magic even do that?”

“I don’t know.” Dorian admitted quietly. “It could’ve destroyed my mind, left me a drooling vegetable as I told Ena. And he found that preferable to who I am.”

Brennan reached across the table to rest his hand on Dorian’s wrist, “I’m sorry. I- well, they wouldn’t do blood magic, but I do know what that’s like. To not be what your parents wanted, and how much it hurts when they make that clear.”

Dorian looked to his hand, and then back to Brennan’s face. “I appreciate that.”

Brennan gently squeezed his wrist, and sat back again, with a sigh. “I think you’re brave though.”

“Oh?”

“I ran,” Brennan looked away from Dorian again, to the tavern, “I slipped the leash and ran. There was nothing brave- the conclave exploded and Esti needed me and then we found Ena and- there were so many excuses I came up with, and Ena offered me some too, for why I wasn’t reaching out. But the truth is, I was running.”

He looked back to Dorian now, to hold his gaze, even hazed from wine and weariness Dorian’s blue eyes held that spark that hinted at just how clever the man he was speaking to was. And it made him furious to think his father would’ve risked that, all for a more desirable heir. “You fought. You walked out and owned it. Your father might’ve found you, but that’s because you’re not hiding. You are where you want to be, and-” he felt his face grow warm and hoped Dorian would blame the wine, “that’s brave.”

“So is running.” Dorian replied, he pushed himself up from how he’d been slumped on the table to better look at Brennan. “You didn’t freeze, you saw the chance and took it. And you could go home, you could leave. You are choosing to stay, to do the right thing, rather than try and finally get your parents approval.”

“I don’t want it.” Brennan admitted easily, the words flowed now, as they got into it, “they wouldn’t approve of me just the dressings they could put on me, like a race horse that’s finally won and now they’re trying to sell it before everyone remembers that it doesn’t know how to run properly. At least I’m of good breeding stock.”

Dorian reached over to tap his wine glass to Brennan’s. Brennan lifted the glass to Dorian in turn, and both of them drank.

“I hope my comment when we met your father wasn’t…” Brennan grimaced and not from the bitter taste on his tongue. “I was trying to be supportive. Let him know that you weren’t alone, that I was like you.”

“You do like women though.” Dorian pointed out, resting his head on his hand not holding a wine glass, “do you not?”

Brennan gave a small nod and sighed slightly, “I have… gender has never been a factor in how attractive I find a partner, if that makes sense? That is part of what makes them attractive perhaps, but it is not something I seem to take into account.”

“Seem to?” Dorian asked, with a hint of teasing. Brennan grinned back at him, on stabler ground here.

“Like many things in my life, I tend to stumble into attractions.” He shrugged his shoulders again, “which offers little help in answering your question, but it’s all I’ve got.”

Dorian considered him for several moments, before he answered, “no, I appreciated your remark. It was a welcome distraction for a second, even if my father jumped to a conclusion.”

Brennan’s eyes flickered to Dorian’s lips and he reached back to rub the back of his neck, “yeah, that… that wasn’t quite what I intended to imply. Sorry about that.”

“Ah, he wouldn’t be the first to assume that, and I doubt he will be the last.”

“What, you mean me sitting down to talk with you tonight, alone by ourselves, might cause gossip around Skyhold?” Brennan laughed warmly, “Maker forbid.”

Dorian was still watching him, and Brennan tilted his head curiously, “did I say something?”

“No, I was… simply wondering about things. How here it is gossip, but I imagine the shock is more my being from Tevinter than a man.”

“Ah.” Brennan paused and considered for a moment before he replied, “I think my parents would be thrilled if I settled with a man, because they would have to worry less about unwanted heirs.”

“Possibly.” Dorian murmured absently, Brennan paused and nodded in acknowledgement, as he remembered the conversation he’d ended up stumbling into with Krem.

“True. But the assumption would be there.” He rolled his shoulders out and leaned back to watch Dorian now, how he’d slowed on the drinking to focus on Brennan, “is there anything you want to ask me, about our 'southern charm'?”

“Well, you have plenty, but no. Merely reflecting on how different things are in so many places, and yet you still end up with people who share some experiences.”

“Under Andraste we can all have shitty parents.” Brennan’s quip pulled a laugh out of Dorian, and forced him up from how he’d begun to slump on the table again.

Silence fell between them, not uncomfortable, but for Brennan, slightly unwelcome. He wanted to speak to Dorian, to tease back and forth as they usually did, to see the other come alive at the chance to show off his wit.

To see Dorian like this was painful, and he wanted to fix it, but Maker if he knew how. This was all he could do and it felt like so little, not nearly enough.

Dorian was pouring himself more wine, oblivious to Brennan’s thoughts, hand remarkably steady for how much of the wine was gone, and Brennan had not had more than a glass.

“You don’t have to stay,” he remarked, the cup raised half to his lips, “and watch me do this. I will be alright.”

“I-” Brennan blinked, the late hour starting to slow his thoughts and make him feel stupid. All the same he shook his head and focused on Dorian, “I want to stay. You’re my friend Dorian. I care about you.”

Dorian did not take his eyes from Brennan as he drank; Brennan shifted under the weight of his scrutiny, the urge to bolt, to flee before he said something and made it worse, coursed through him and he pushed it past. He had said he would stay, and if that meant that Dorian dissected him with his gaze then so be it.

“Do you now?”

“I- pardon?”

“Care about me?”

Brennan swallowed hard, there was something very strange in Dorian’s tone, and in his expression, he felt like he was on the edge of something. “Yes.”

“That simple, hmm?”

“What do you want me to say?” Brennan crossed his arms and leaned back, to gesture with one hand, the other still folded across his chest, “that you have been a reliable ally? That you’re someone Ena trusts, and that she’s my- that I trust her judgement? That I like how we banter, and I like our conversations and thought we were friends, so yes, I care about you?”

Dorian reached up to rub at his eyes, and shook himself, “I’m sorry. I told you I would be poor company, and I am always right, am I not?”

Something churned in Brennan’s gut and he asked softly, “were you asking me something else Dorian?”

“No. I was not.”

“Are you sure?”

Both of them went still at the question, Brennan rarely pushed in moments like this but it had slipped out. And perhaps, that was for the best. Because Dorian finally cracked for a moment, looking at him with something other than curiosity. Surprise, yes, but something fond, and desperate, also snuck out for a second before he pulled himself back together.

“Yes. I wished to know if they were empty platitudes, because, again, my father, and poor wine, have made me even poorer company. Sorry if you expected something else.”

“Hardly.” Brennan was proud of himself for not flinching this time, he’d begun to learn when Dorian snapped he often was frustrated but not angry, and continuing the conversation would allow him to settle back down. “You warned me, and I said I would stay. Honestly, given what’s happened, you’ve been quite pleasant company Dorian. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be.”

Dorian’s eyes were on him again, that strange piercing stare, and Brennan still didn’t know what he was looking for, whether or not he was finding it, and if Brennan wanted him to.

“Well.” Dorian drawled, proving Brennan’s earlier observation about his behavior correct. “I can’t say I expected that.” He was still studying Brennan, as though trying to untangle him, to find how some knot in a cord would come undone, with a simple tug that made him look clever and elegant. “But you are often a surprise.”

Brennan gave him an odd look, unsure how to take that, he wasn’t keeping up with Dorian’s thoughts, he kept taking unexpected turns. “I… am?”

“Yes.” Dorian gestured at him with one hand, “and I do not know what I am to do with you.”

Something coiled around Brennan’s spine, the specter of Maxwell, ready to whisper at him, deriding him even as the comment slipped out, “well, I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

Dorian was oblivious to the hissing in Brennan’s ear of how he’d made this weird, how he’d ruin it, to leave now. How he would ruin the family to associate with Dorian. How he’d just annoy a man as intelligent as him.

Brennan reached for the wine, in the hopes it would dull his mind again, and quiet the voice of his brother, all too eager to point out his failings. “Dorian?”

“Hmm, I have an idea or two.” Dorian’s eyes flickered over Brennan, his hand stilled on the bottle, the glass cool under his fingertips, compared the flush he could feel as Dorian’s eyes dragged down his body again.

“I knew you would.”

“Ah yes, but not tonight.” Dorian blinked at Brennan, the intensity slipping from his gaze, “I need more time to think of things.”

Brennan huffed softly at that, and offered a small smile, “well, when you’re ready to share your brilliant ideas, I’ll be happy to hear them out.”

Dorian reached for the bottle to take it from Brennan, letting their fingers brush, contact between them lingering before Brennan relinquished the bottle to him.

Dorian poured himself another cup of wine, and raised it to Brennan. “To that conversation in our future.”

Brennan raised his own mostly empty glass, “to future talks.”

The rest of the evening passed gently. They kept conversation lighter, and Brennan suggested a game of Wicked Grace. A game he soundly lost at, despite how much of the wine Dorian had drank by the time he claimed the last of Brennan's coins.

"You wear your heart on your sleeve. Truly. Makes you terrible at cards."

"I know." Brennan admitted good naturedly as he swept up the cards between them. "Makes me terrible at politics too."

"Nonsense. You are far too handsome, and with that kind of earnestness? You could charm crowds. What makes you terrible at politics is you care about people. Politicians hate that." Dorian spoke with great authority on the matter, Brennan continued to smile as he tapped the deck against the table to level it.

"You would know I take it."

Dorian gestured with one hand, "oh, something like that. Let's not talk politics. Not tonight."

Brennan tucked the deck of cards back in his jacket pocket. "Agreed. Are you staying until they throw you out or..."

Dorian's eyes flashed to Brennan with a hint of mischief, "so you are determined to wait me out."

Brennan waved his hand noncommittally, but his smile didn't waver.

Dorian sighed and rolled his eyes. "How terribly obnoxious to have people determined to care about you."

"If it makes you feel better, you won my coin. I need you to pay."

That did get a laugh from Dorian, who retrieved the money he'd won, "always a catch, isn't there?"

"I'd like to think there isn't." Brennan replied, as he watched Dorian set the coins on the table, getting to his feet, "that sometimes people do genuinely do good."

"Is that why you're here then?" Dorian asked, Brennan wasn't sure if he meant in the Inquisition or with him.

So he took yet another gamble, "I'm here because I care."

Dorian grumbled at that, something Brennan didn't catch over the noise of the tavern, or through rather. Too much sound for him to make out Dorian's comment, if it had even been in The King's Tongue.

"Well, since you are such a gentleman, are you walking me back to my room?"

Brennan rose, stretching out as he did, "if you'd like the company."

Dorian shook his head at that, "if you'd like the company." he repeated, clearly amused, "what am I to do with you?"

"I thought you were still thinking of ideas."

"Oh I am."

This was easy, familiar ground, Dorian’s father had been wrong, they weren’t together, but the flirting was familiar, the slight brushing of their shoulders as they walked together, this was the same. This was known, and safe, a comfortable end to a long and stressful day.

The trip to their rooms was both too long and too short, Brennan halting, as Dorian stepped into the shadows near the door of his room.

He turned now, his gaze lingering on Brennan, “well. You have seen me safely to my rooms. I believe your duty as a gentleman is fulfilled.”

Thoughts tumbled around, like Brennan had knocked over a shelf and sent them scattering across the floor, not one whole and making sense, save for an impulse, one he’d had before. He stepped into the dark with Dorian, out of sight of anyone who might be out, no one’s eyes on him but Dorian’s as he closed the space between them.

Dorian tasted like the wine, the bitter taste lingered on Brennan’s tongue as he pulled back, but he found he minded it much less this time, his hands fluttered on Dorian’s arms, preventing him from pulling away.

Dorian didn’t seem surprised at least, “hardly gentlemanly of you.”

“I am the scandal of my house.”

“You’re playing with fire.”

“I have my whole life.” Brennan replied quietly, “some things are worth risking burns.”

This time it was Dorian, pulling Brennan closer so he could kiss him again, even as Dorian’s tongue teased his, Brennan felt the way Dorian’s fingers flexed against his hips, just the slightest hint of desperation, of wanting.

When they broke apart, Brennan rested his hands on Dorian’s waist, making no move to pull away from him. “Still thinking about what to do with me?”

“I-” Dorian blinked a few times, “yes. I do have ideas though, that I would love to go over with you. In private. Later.”

Now Brennan did pull away, but before he stepped back out of the shadows, he leaned forward one last time to press a chaste kiss to Dorian’s lips, “good night Dorian.”

“Tease.” Dorian replied as Brennan stepped back out into the moonlight, but he was smiling.

Brennan smiled back, wetting his lips to taste Dorian and wine on them, “says the one who keeps telling me has to think of things to do to me. Maybe I was just… helping with inspiration.”

“I am feeling very inspired.” Dorian promised, leaning against the wall to watch Brennan, “but these ideas are best slept on. So, good night Brennan.”

“Good night Dorian.”

#Brennan Trevelyan #Companion Brennan AU #Write 3.6k words so I can write a different fic #Ya know how it is

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vitaeplaysda · 7 months ago

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Hullo! 👀

🍧 for Abigail, 🙈 for Elinan, 👑 for Enfenim, 🌈 for Kali

and 📎 for as many as you'd like!

(skip any you don't like, of course!)

[Link to the prompts]

🍧 for Abigail

🍧 SHAVED ICE - do they still have any objects from their childhood? what significance does it have to them? what would their reaction be if they lost it?

They once found an old key on the road while playing outside. It was made of iron with some nice decorations, but simple enough to be used for a closet or chest, there was nothing special about it. But they would make up impossible stories together with their siblings and in their young mind such a key was meant to open magical doors leading to other realms or maybe treasure rooms.

They kept it tied around their neck for many years, considering it one of their most precious possessions.

Now it's kept among their things, but they still have it, yes. It's a memento of better days able to bring a smile to their face.

But in the end Abigail is one to live in the moment, and if they were to lose the key, they wouldn't think much of it. After all it became such a treasure because somebody lost it to begin with. Maybe it's the key's fate to be lost again.

🙈 for Elinan

🙈 SEE-NO-EVIL - whats a side of your oc that they don't want to show other people?

Weakness. They don't want others to see they're tired, worried or perturbed. Half of it it's her people pleasing nature, the other came to be with becoming the Inquisitor and taking lessons about the Game from Josephine and Leliana. While the thing is a bit frivolous in Orlais, it's still very useful when you've got to lead a big organization against the world. Even when Solas dumped her, she remained calm and amiable to his dismay, still offering her support even when she was the victim.

She has her limits though, and when she's burned out or overwhelmed, she usually tries her best to hide in her quarters or by going on solo missions. Her favorite remedy is just to wander pretty places to gather materials and herbs, that's something very useful to leave behind the stress. Baking also helps.

The only ones she can't hide from are the spirits like Cole or Enfenim.

👑 for Enfenim

👑 CROWN - what does your oc want to be remembered as? why?

It's not something he cares much about as they had little sense of self for many years, as a demon he was the embodiment of the very fears and traumas which corrupted him. But as he regained his memories I guess he would like to be remembered as the thing he failed to be: a good protector. A good friend. Someone you can rely upon. As why, probably it would help him mend his spiritual wounds even more, gaining more control, memories and identity.

🌈 for Kali

🌈 RAINBOW - what advice would they give to their younger self?

Kali is someone who knows regrets are never useful and whenever you decide to take a move, you should accept any kind of result, for better or worse. Which means she hardly has much to suggest to a past version of herself like 'you should have done something in a different way' or 'fall in love before it's too late', after all such possible choices could have led her to a darker fate. Maybe she would remind herself that spending some quality time with her sister wouldn't have hurt, considering working for her wellbeing ended up not letting the two see each other for long periods of time.

📎 PAPERCLIP - a random fact.

📎Elinan: She's a master at braiding hair, in her clan everyone would always ask her, many offering their heads to let her try out new techniques. She tried to keep up the role during her time as Inquisitor but somehow she felt like people didn't approve of such a figure doing such mundane things openly. Solas being bald was a tragedy for her arts. Enfenim ending up having a lot of long and beautiful hair once he fully took the appearance of an elf JUST RIGHT AFTER she lost her left forearm didn't help. In the end she taught him all she knew. Same with little Rook. They both now are their successors as braid masters.

📎 Enfenim: Having floated while having five legs for most of his existence, he didn't expect he had to learn how to walk again once he decided to drop the extra three and move like a mortal. He was successful in the end, Elinan helped. People felt less scared of him. And wielding a sword felt more natural. It was a good choice

📎 Abigail: They love to point out as a joke that their Mohawk hairstyle is a way to not forget their surname is in fact Hawke.

📎 Kali: She's very good at baking cookies. That's secretly how she won Sten over. They're also real helpful to raise the Wardens's morale.

#oc: enfenim #oc: abigail hawke #oc: elinan lavellan #oc: kali brosca #oc emoji asks 01

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sea-side-scribbles · 3 days ago

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Maker, preserve - Chapter 47

Solas wakes up in the strange new world of his own making and it terrifies him. Ridden with guilt, he joins the Inquisition and begins his lonely research in order to correct his mistake.

He doesn’t expect to find consolation in the presence of a human who wields ancient elven magic without knowing it. Who is way too gentle for an elgar’thanelan, but doesn’t know that either.

Solas, for his part, doesn’t know how to stay away.

Dorian wonders if the mysterious elf just enjoys playing with a Tevinter. He wouldn’t expect anything else.

_____________________

Chapter 1- 13 | Right after uthenera, Solas is found by a Dalish clan. This goes well until it doesn’t. (Basically my excuse for world building and hilarious misunderstandings.)

Chapter 14 | Solas joins the Inquisition.

Chapter 20 | Dorian appears in Haven.

Chapter 47

The great outcry Varric feared didn't come, except of course for Cassandra's rage. Hawke got all the attention instead. The arrival of the Champion of Kirkwall made other aspects of this event vanish. Although the Champion was rarely seen and only Ellana was invited to speak to him. He didn't seem to fancy being paraded around Skyhold. However, he had come prepared. The next day, the Inquisitor gathered a party to meet with Hawke's Grey Warden contact in Crestwood, hoping to find out more about Corypheus' plans. The Champion went there earlier, on his own, keeping to his mysterious ways.

Not everyone enjoyed leaving the safe walls of Skyhold. "Another soppy swamp that spits corpses?" Dorian moaned after Scout Harding had delivered her report. "Why are you doing this to me?" Instead of Ellana, someone else answered, whispering into his ear: "They are trying to go home, but their home is where they were, beyond, forgotten, crushed..." Dorian spun around to face the spirit. "Oh, and this! Would it hurt you not to creep up from behind like that? It's impolite and unnerving!" "...that's why they take the bodies", Cole went on, mind deep in different realms. Dorian huffed, giving up. Then even Varric and Ellana laughed. This clearly wasn't his day. "Brilliant idea. Laugh at the Necromancer in a swamp full of corpses. See what good it does you."

"I also think it's not wise to encourage it", Cassandra's stern voice came to his rescue, ironically. They usually didn't agree so easily. "We cannot know its true motivation." "Can you ever know that about anyone, Seeker of Truth?", Solas asked, not for the first time, and she sighed. They've been dancing back and forth like that the entire way. Cassandra was even too distracted to quarrel with Varric. The two only frowned at each other from time to time. Despite everything, Cole was here now. Ellana was set on keeping the spirit in the Inquisition, as she had said so multiple times.

Dorian and Cassandra weren't the only ones feeling uncomfortable. Solas realized how convenient the fortress had been, allowing him to hide in plain sight. Here, in a party with only five other people, it was harder to stay in the background. Especially after Varric had been friendly the day before and kept pulling him into conversations. The dwarf refused to let him stay away from the others. It could've been annoying if it wasn't so strangely welcome. Solas was constantly struggling against a stream, even with Cassandra, who he just got to know better, and Ellana, as long as they didn't speak about the Dalish.

In addition, he could barely keep his eyes off Dorian. Not only for aesthetical reasons, and not because the mage kept drawing attention. He really seemed to dislike travelling. No, it was his reaction to Cole that Solas examined like the process of a delicate spell, feeling uneasy to even care. But after all their fade-lessons, he found he had the right to look for changes in his behaviour. Cole embodied everything Solas had attempted to teach Dorian. He was a person, a young man and a spirit alike.

The first observations were disappointing. The mage was all but annoyed and disturbed by Cole, not trying to understand his statements. The spirit had trouble not to drown in the currents of loud, pleading voices, yet they were worth hearing. Nobody cared to do so.

In Dorian's defence, Solas wouldn't have confronted him with the spirit right away, yet here they were. And to all fairness, being jumped at from behind wasn't pleasant.

Having the spirit among them as a companion was something Solas had never dared to hope for. The miracle allured him to ask for more. A different voice in his head warned him not to lie to himself. Considering his experience, the warning was justified. However, it didn't stop the stream from pulling him, and more often he found himself seeking conversations he could've avoided.

The party fought their way to the cave, as Harding had foreseen and saved an elven woman on the way. When she considered to join the Grey Wardens, Ellana asked for his advice. His answer came calmly, out of habit, although the occurrence left its mark on him. It shouldn't have. It wasn't the first time Ellana asked him a question. But feelings awoke in him he had buried for millennia. Feelings that made it hard for him to even hold himself upright. Therefore, he tried to distract himself with banter that he regretted afterwards. A vicious cycle.

He kept his distance in the cave, when everyone focused on Hawke and Warden Stroud. The topic “Corypheus” made him uncomfortable. Hearing what this darkspawn magister unleashed with the power of his aria'sulahn... He shouldn't think about it, couldn't let that occupy his mind and block it. Waiting like that, he was certain he felt Dorian's gaze on him for a moment. He didn't engage, but his mind wandered to more pleasant places. For a short time, it was a comfort.

After that, they made camp outside the cave. Sitting by the fire, Ellana announced that they'd stay here longer to safe the village from the rift in the lake. “The water changes the song”, Cole contributed and of course everyone ignored him. Dorian complained as expected, but both him and Cassandra agreed that the rift needed to be closed. Nobody exclusively wished to stay longer than necessary in this place. Solas craved the solitude of his desk in the rotunda.

Alas, today, there was no solitude in sight. Right when Cassandra and Varric began to speak with each other, not quite nicely, Dorian came to his side and whispered too close for comfort into his ear: “It seems we don't have to go to the fade anymore to find a spirit.” Solas had goosebumps all over his body just from hearing his voice, directed at him. He had been starving and now it was right there, like a delicious fruit hanging above his head. All he had to do was to pluck it. “Could you spare a moment for questions?”, Dorian asked and Solas turned his head to look at him for the first time in days. He wasn't sure if he could hide how much he wanted this. There were moments even a rigid mask would speak. There was a possibility, however. He could do this for Cole.

So he nodded shortly and followed the Tevinter to a somewhat dry spot under trees. Leaning against a trunk, he avoided to look him directly into the eyes. “So...where do I even begin?”, Dorian said, undecided whether or not he wanted to touch the tree for support. “I guess...I'll go straight to the point, yes? Well, I always wondered...did you know Cole? Before, I mean? Is he one of your... long time friends?” Nobody else had made this assumption yet, and probably, Solas should be thankful. An apostate bringing demons into the Inquisition wouldn't be taken lightly. “He is not”, Solas answered, trying to shake the stiffness from his voice. “Like you, I met him when he appeared in Haven. He lived long before the Breach, but we did not cross paths then. Regardless, he is pure compassion. He would be a good friend.” Saying these words lifted a weight from his shoulders. He had discussed Cole's nature so often now, yet had never been able say something so personal.

“Compassion? Huh...I...please don't get me wrong, but he doesn't strike me as very...insightful. He peeks around in people's heads. My head, too. Will he always be like this?” Dorian's tone revealed suppressed anger. Solas softened his tone as much as he could: “He only hears the voices that speak to him.” “This sounds like something he could've said.” “Cole intends to ease pain. He hears the voices of the suffering, the pleading. He hears every kind of pain in his proximity.” “And does he have to repeat it out loud?” “Cole has chosen an unique path, Dorian. There are no instructions for being a manifested spirit. He is adapted himself to the waking world, but he is yet learning.” “And slow on the uptake, I presume...”, Dorian rather muttered to himself. Solas frowned at the mage, making the eye contact he had tried to avoid. The man looked to tired and defeated, his frown faded. “Nevermind...”, Dorian whispered. “Being a person is an ordeal, I can tell.” Solas felt his own compassion grow.

“Dorian...is this conversation truly about Cole?”, he asked before he could catch himself. “Of course”, the man snapped. “What else would this be about? This place doesn't offer much for conversations. Nothing that I haven't spoken about already and nobody listens.” “Well...” Solas felt that there was something hidden behind his words. But who was he to cross the border? He should've never come this far. “Did you speak with Cole yet? He would appear if you called for him.” “I was afraid you would say that.” “Why?” “You remember when you said I wasn't ready to speak with spirits? I might understand now what you mean.” Solas' compassion rose like a wave about to break. “It is your choice. If you do not feel ready, I respect it.” The sentence slipped from his lips.

“I wish he would do the same”, Dorian pressed out. Solas couldn't bear the sight any longer. “I will speak to him”, he decided. To his utmost relief, the handsome features lit up. “You twist them around your little finger, don't you?” Even the smirk was back. “Not exactly. It is not in his nature to ignore the suffering. And spirits usually cleanse themselves from memories, to keep themselves pure. That means...” The light faded again. “I see. Well, I'd still appreciate if you tried.” “I will.” A grateful look made Solas think he did something right.

In the night, sleeping between Varric and Dorian, his shaken mind visited places of ancient, wistful memories.

Mythal was singing again, but this time, it was a cheerful melody. A lot had changed since her and the spirit had first begun their journey. They had ventured down to the earth and met more of Mythal's people, the Elvhen. Today, they rested on the floating land in the sky and the spirit pleased his curiosity, watching the people.

The man named Elgar'nan trained by himself, attacking constructs the inventor June had made for him. They were created to match the description of the strange creatures that came from the earth. June hadn't witnessed them yet, but he had followed the instructions thoroughly.

As the oldest of the group, and being famous for many works, June had already been preparing for uthenera until Mythal and her people had convinced him to help them save the Elvhen from the earth's wrath. He was creative, experienced and very interesting, but right now, the spirit got drawn to the glowing blade of Elgar'nan that hit the constructs in a fast pace.

Elgar'nan had been the first of the Elvhen they met on the earth, entangled in a battle with the creatures. They had joined the battle and asked him to come along. When more people entered the group, he had become their leader, but he often consulted with Mythal. Less so with the spirit. He mostly heard his advise through her.

His blade hummed, yet not like Mythal's song. Today, it was an angry rhythm that kept in tune with its holder. “You become careless when you are moving this quickly”, the spirit observed, delighted by his finding. Elgar'nan only had a scowl for him. “Can't you go play somewhere else until the durgen'len come back?” The spirit missed the gruff tone. “Will you slow down then?” “No.” “Why not?” “Because I'm not taking advice from a light ball that never wielded a sword in its sorry existence.” “I could try.” The spirit floated closer to the weapon. Elgar'nan yanked it away. “Careful, stupid thing! Do you know what this is?” “It is angry. And it cuts.” “Really? Now I know why Mythal calls you Wisdom. It's an arcane blade. Wielding it is an honour. You can't just ask for it, you have to deserve it.”

“Does it require moving too quickly for your body to follow?” Instead of answering, Elgar'nan turned away to shout: “Mythal! For the love of the arelanis! How do you get it to shut up?” Mythal interrupted her song. “Sileal!”, she called the spirit. “Be nice, let him practise!” “But he is not practising. He is just angry.” “Then leave him alone when he's angry, dear.” “He will hurt himself.” This made the group break out in laughter. Displaying red ears poking out of messy dark hair, Elgar'nan felled a construct with a fierce strike. It broke apart, its bent metal parts clanking and tiny crystals rolling out.

Sileal wasn't interested in the ruckus and the different voices speaking over each other. Somebody else had been asking for his attention for a while. He floated away to join the side of Falon'Din, who played with the vessels he wore like necklaces. “Few people know how to treat spirits right. It's a shame”, he said giving Sileal a grin. “Mythal does.” Falon'Din clicked his tongue. “Mythal is lucky...She doesn't know what she's doing.” Then he held up a small pendant that opened with a nudge of his finger. It lay on his palm, swirling colourfully inside. Sileal watched. Falon'Din lifted an eyebrow. “Curious?”

Sileal hovered above it, flickering. He had learned that Falon'Din was an elgar'thanelan. The vessels around his neck weren't like Mythal's staff, where he could rest and leave whenever he wanted. Falon'Din's spirits couldn't leave unless he set them free. His song was different than Mythal's. For the spirits, it was all they heard. He made them sing things into being for him. Sileal was curious, but he didn't want to make himself deaf to other songs.

“Don't worry, Sileal, you're too strong for this”, Falon'Din said gently. He had a voice spirits liked to hear. “Why do you want me to get inside then?” “Because if you showed me why it doesn't work, I could improve it. And that would help us save the world.” “It would also help you catch me.” “Don't be silly. Mythal would kill me. No, I'd catch other spirits.” “Which spirits?” He pondered. “Well...these walking stones attract fascinating things. The dead ones, too. I haven't seen so many spirits of death in one place before.” “If you wish to improve this vessel for them, it would be best to test it on them instead of me.” “I can't test it in a fight, dear Sileal. It must work then.” “You have time. Andruil's arrows are improved to permeate the durgen'len. You can use that advantage.” Falon'Din huffed. “Arguing with a wisdom spirit...”

Sileal lost interest in the vessel and moved on. Mentioning Andruil made him seek her out and circle her from a safe distance. With the help of June, she had created arrows that helped felling the walking stones. Before, she had needed to find their weak spots, what had cost her precious time and had her rarely land a harmful hit. She was pleased with this, although she had enjoyed the challenge. Now, she was focused with enchanting her new weapons, so the spirit dared to float near her. Usually, she would swipe at him with whatever she had in her hands, because he had tried to correct her aiming.

Her sister Sylaise sat by the campfire at June's side. She was younger than him, but creative as well and they enjoyed sharing their ideas. June thought about giving them protection that was hard as stone, like the durgen'len. Sylaise would care about making it comfortable like a second skin. Sileal eventually joined their discussion. June always welcomed him and sometimes told him stories about the Elvhen. Sylaise asked him questions. Now and then they made him travel the sky to seek for answers they requested.

When he was tired from all these impressions, he flew back to Mythal who greeted him by fondling his essence. He enjoyed it for a while, before he sank into her staff to rest.

Notes:

aria'sulahn: “the song's vessel”, Elvhen word for foci arelanis (short for on'arelanis): “the grand dreamers” elgar'thanelan: “one who uses spirits”

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #dragon age fanfiction #solas/dorian #dragon age solas #dragon age dorian #maker preserve #rarepair solas #dragon age mythal #dragon age evanuris

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theheraldsrest · 4 years ago

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"Companions in a snowball fight."

Snowed a bit ago. Got told off by Lex. Life goes on. Have it so that there is some magical protection around Skyhold and that’s why it’s rather green up in the snowy mountains, but every once in a while, it’ll snow pretty heavily and get through. -Cabot

Cullen

He kept saying he had too much to do, too much to plan. Doesn’t even know how you convinced a bunch of his men to join in, but wasn’t going to stop them. They needed a break anyways. Apparently, they thought he needed one as well since a second later a snowball soared over and smacked him in the face. The soldiers waited for the commander’s yelling but instead the soldier who hit him got a face full of snow a second later. Being from a big family, he knows how to hold himself in a snowball fight.

Josephine

You were able to convince her to take a break from her writing and letters and, once she was dressed for snow, came outside to the battle that was already underway. Someone help her, she doesn’t know how to make a snowball nor who to hit. She keeps ducking behind you or taking cover whenever a snowball is thrown at her. Finally gets a hit, but it’s Cullen who she hits. She brought this man into this fight, but no one needs to know that.

Leliana

You understand that she’s your spymaster, a bard, and one of the best archers ever? Yes? Just making sure. She already has a plan and the beginning of it is to convince everyone that the snowball fight is childish and she would rather not join in. Of course, it comes as a surprise when you all get walloped in the head from the battlements but when you guys check, no one’s there. Doesn’t help that she soon shows she’s on no one's side but her own and is taking out her own people. There is no right or wrong in a snow war. Only body counts.

Vivienne

She’d rather just watch, thank you. This is too childish for her taste, but does enjoy trying to predict who will win with others. Some people say she was tipping it in her favor since every once in a while a random snowball will come from nowhere and hit another. Yes, way too childish for your taste, Vivienne.

Varric

Would’ve been one of the hardest targets to hit if he didn’t feel like running his mouth every five seconds. Didn’t start the snowball fight but dragged most people into it. His precise aiming also helps since he always gets his targets, mostly hitting Solas or Cassandra. And, after all this time, he agrees to letting Bull throw him. Ever seen a dwarf fly? The inquisitor has.

Cole

He remembers vaguely snowball fights from those memories he had seen, but never experienced them. After a quick and thorough explanation, he thinks he’s got the idea. One minute, he’s there, the next, he’s gone and you’re on the ground with snow all over you. He might have just learned it but he’s pretty good. Gets to a point where you have to ban him from disappearing because Sera calls it cheating.

Solas

Absolutely not. He already has to deal with Sera, but giving her the privilege of throwing something at him? No thank you. Occasionally steps out to see how it’s going though, make sure that no one is actually dying while shaking his head at how ridiculous this is (mortals, am I right?). Of course, that doesn’t stop him from suddenly getting hit in the side of the head while reading in the library by a certain elf, who finds herself getting covered in snow later. Solas denies everything but is much happier.

Cassandra

No. Just, no. When you ask her, she stares at you for a few seconds before going back to whatever she was doing. You try to convince her a few more times to join and she refuses until you say the magic words “You get to pelt Varric with snowballs.” At first, Varric has the upper hand against her, until she finds where he’s hiding. Even Bull is impressed by the size of the snowball she made for Varric.

Iron Bull

It’s all fun and games until you get the mercenary to join. He might be a bigger target but that just means it’s gonna take more than a few snowballs to take him down. He plays it out as if he was out on the battlefield, coming up with tactics to take everyone out. Doesn’t help that his snowballs are a little bit bigger. He is taken down after the Chargers pulled a fast one and dumped the snow on the top of the tavern onto him.

Dorian

Coming from a much warmer place, this is his first snowfall and, surprisingly, wants to try everything. Warm clothes? Check. Warm drinks? Check. Friends who are aiming for the person who is still getting used to this? Check. He’s an easy target, most people aiming for the pompous man, but they soon learn to fear him. Another rule has to be made in place of Dorian using his magic to knock a pile of snow onto Blackwall.

Sera

You can bet she’s the one who started it and got most people into it. Doesn’t matter how many times she gets hit, how many times she’s taken down, she always gets back up and gets her revenge. Honestly, it was a needed break for everyone and Sera knew it, but won’t admit it. It also gave her a way to test out some other tricks she was planning on using when on the battlefield. Also lets her see the others having fun, even (Gasp!) Vivienne and Solas. Still doesn’t explain how she got the snow in Solas’s room.

Blackwall

He was just watching when Sera hit the inquisitor with a snowball then proceeded to hit others as well. Gave him a good chuckle until she spotted him. You’ve never seen this man run so fast and neither has he. Sera is quite disappointed until he sneaks up on her and dumps snow onto her. He has chosen war. He hasn’t had this much fun since...never. At the end, he’s just lying in the snow, claiming the battle had taken him and to leave him to his fate.

All in all, when your little snow battle is over, you and the others are all sitting around the tavern fire, enjoying some drinks and relishing in the glow of the battle.

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emerald-amidst-gold · 4 years ago

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fluff prompt: “You’re an idiot.” “But you love me.”

for the dragon and the wolf? :3

A bickering old couple you request? Ohhh, yes~! >:3 If it's one thing Fane and Solas do well, it's grow more and more exasperated with each other's less...thought out moments. PFFFT!

-----

"What is Fane doing?"

Solas and Mhairi were standing side by side when the latter asked that question of him; he with his arms behind her back; she with her own folded in front of her. They were currently watching the aforementioned man, Cole and Varric flanking him, as he knocked on an elemental barrier with an obsidian gauntlet. The resounding thrum had Solas closing his eyes for a second, the magic reverberating unnervingly along his skin and mind, before he reopened them and heaved a soft sigh. This boded poorly, but he would not interfere. His dragon would learn this time.

...Hopefully.

"He is preparing to dispel the barrier.", Solas said with dryness and a blank expression. 'Dispel' was perhaps too generous of a term for this display. He dispelled; Fane disturbed.

To match his thought and what nearly had Solas letting out another, more exasperated sigh, Fane butted his shoulder against the barrier--magic warbling before it lashed out with tendrils of fire, causing the reckless man to jump back quickly with a snarl and a scowl. Cole would occasionally glance back at him, veiled eyes peeking through blonde bangs with the same question that Mhairi had posed, 'What is he doing?', but he merely shrugged and continued to watch. Again, he would not interfere. Mhairi's voice came again, more questions with its lilt.

"Dispel?", the woman asked, turning her gaze towards her brother once more. Solas caught how petite hands squeezed themselves with anxious energy, but whether she knew what Fane was about to do or not, he had no clue. "How is he going to dispel that barrier? He doesn't have any way of doing that."

"Indeed he does not.", Solas agreed blandly, actually feeling his face deadpan further as Fane ordered Varric to launch a barrage of bolts at the crackling ward. The two men had to scramble away when those projectiles ricocheted; the arrows were on fire, as well. Unfortunate.

Mhairi cringed at his side, but relaxed as the two men appeared unharmed; Fane only seeming more annoyed and Varric merely laying upon the ground in a position that said, 'Why did I sign on for this?'. Cole hovered around the defeated dwarf like a baby bird, concerned and confused. Solas wished he could answer that question of presence for the poor Child of the Stone. Sadly, he could not beyond saying it was to clean up mistakes not the dwarf's own. Just as he could not interfere despite how this debacle had his more scholarly nature crying for release. A simple spell of ice would negate the barrier, or any, truthfully, but he would let his dear, idiotic dragon learn that when one touched fire, they were bound to get burned.

"Do you think we should--?"

"No.", Solas shot down Mhairi's question immediately, glancing down at her and raising an eyebrow when she only pouted up at him--bottom lip protruding rather childishly. Such a look would not sway him.

"But, Solas, he'll--!"

The Dalish woman attempted to argue once again, but Solas merely turned his gaze away and refocused it on Fane, who was now on his own and glaring literal daggers into the barrier before him. How painful this was to watch. How desperately he wished to aid the one who had aided him countless times for countless ages.

But he would not.

"Lessons must be learned, da'len.", Solas explained, inner exasperation growing as he felt a ripple in the air. He growled under his breath. "Fenhedis lasa, ma'isenatha. Why must you do this every time? More force does not cause them to fall like a body of flesh and bone."

Mhairi stared at him, obviously confused and lost before turning her gaze quickly back to her brother, but Solas knew all would be made clear as a spectral claw appeared along the length of the Fane's arm--blue and silver swirling with magical essence and whispers of ice. An ivory visage was twisted, vines and flowers of Sylaise matching the contortion easily, as Fane let out a deeply, deeply primal snarl--one that made Solas shiver despite his annoyance, but he steeled himself as that spectral arm pulled back.

Class was in session. Unfortunate.

Mhairi's eyes widened. "Wait, he's going to--?", she began before seeming as if she wished to run forward to stop what was about to transpire, but Solas placed a hand upon a delicate shoulder, squeezing it firmly and halting an unneeded flight. "Solas, he's going to--!"

"I am aware, da'len.", Solas said, calm and once again, flat. He knew this line of actions all too well. All. Too. Well. "Let it play out."

Mhairi's head snapped up to him, blonde hair whipping around with her. "What?! But the barrier will--!"

Before known words escaped frenzied lips, the sound of an explosion echoed around them. Solas heaved a loud sigh and flicked up a barrier without a tremor in his hand to shield both he and Mhairi. The young woman let out a screech of surprise and fear, immediately scrambling behind him and finding purchase on his robes with her hands. He barely flinched at that. This too was a common occurrence.

"Explode.", Solas finished Mhairi's earlier statement with so much dryness he thought his voice would crack and flow away like sand in the Approach. "As would any force when more force is enacted upon it."

As the smoke and fire cleared, and his barrier slowly decayed--Fade borne energy wiggling back through the tears he had made in the fabric holding it back--, Solas saw that both Cole and Varric had thankfully managed to get to an alcove in time to shield themselves. They had unfortunately been too far for him to reach, but so was one other. One that was now, not surprisingly, laid out upon the ground, chest rattling with harsh coughs and snow white hair coated with ash and soot, as was the material of their armor. They were, however, in one complete piece, so the minor panic in Solas' chest abated to be replaced by his common friend this day; exasperation.

"I trust you are not burnt too horribly, Inquisitor?", Solas called out to the other man, keeping his position of distance for the time being. Mhairi was still behind him, but he caught the sight of her head peeking around from his peripheral. He could feel her want to bolt forward, but the fire seemed to have spooked her to the point where she couldn't.

"I'm..cough..fine!", Fane called back, voice raspy from smoke and possibly a shout of his own that had been swallowed by the explosion. "I got the...cough...barrier!" A lazy hand came up to point at the entrance to the cave; it was, in fact, open and free to traverse.

"Well done, vhenan.", Solas praised, but he kept his voice literally dripping with sarcasm and with the air of not being impressed at all. "Although, perhaps a minor spell of either I or your sister would suffice next time? It would certainly help in keeping your foolishness from leaking through."

Solas watched as Fane's head craned back upon the ground, emerald and gold looking far more brilliant due to the appearance of blackened soot. They spoke with a thousand words, a thousand voices, and he could see that his dear dragon was not pleased with his words. Oh well.

"What are you trying to say, you old fool?", Fane snarled out at him, but Solas was unfazed, so used to these words and this haughty display.

Solas shrugged. "In short terms?", he asked, raising an eyebrow before smirking when Fane nodded once for him to continue. "You are an idiot."

Solas heard Mhairi softly gasp from behind him, but he paid it no further attention as Fane's face flashed with several emotions; disbelief, indignation, anger, but then...warmth. The appearance of that had him blinking, brows drawing together. Interesting. Usually an answer such as the one he'd given would spur his dragon to sulk and glare until his eyes shut for the eve. But this time, Fane appeared...conniving; he had something up his sleeve to retort with.

Unfortunate, but also, welcome. How the fires blaze. How they burned and allowed him to wash clean.

Fane hummed, head slowly moving back to its former position so that emerald and gold could gaze at the very sky they had once witnessed from a different view. Vines of Sylaise went lax as an ivory visage went lax, softness making his dragon look centuries younger and like he did not have the weight of the world upon his shoulders. The sight nearly had Solas taking a step forward, suddenly eager to join his heart upon the ground, but he went rigid when rumbling words exited fondly smiling lips.

"But you love me despite that." Fane chuckled, hooded eyes rolling back to him with more fire than the dissolved barrier could ever possess. "Isn't that right, ma tarasyl?"

Solas felt his whole body, but most importantly, his face blaze at that utterance of Elvhen and Common. Now, this was not something expected. Fane rarely voiced his affection so publicly, so unabashedly--emerald nearly drowning in gold as emotions ran high and voice loud to project it for all to hear. A tiny giggle from behind had Solas quickly bringing a hand up to cover part of his hot face. It would appear he had been bested. Unfortunate, but not unwanted.

The 'oooo' from Varric however was highly unwanted. It would seem he was flanked and would soon be quartered. How foolish for him to think he was in complete control.

"Perhaps I am the idiot.", Solas muttered to himself, smirking behind his hand as he continued to keep he and Fane's gazes locked, entwined. He did, however, usher the giggling elf behind him forward with a gentle hand. "If you would, da'len?"

Mhairi offered him a knowing smile, raising an eyebrow. "What about you, hah'ren~? I bet a kis--!"

"Mhairi. Go.", Solas commanded tersely, but could only sigh as she let out another giggle before bare feet and short legs hastened to her brother's side. Fane was still watching him, but his eyes were quiet, silently asking him, 'Too much?'.

Solas smiled a bit at that and only shook his head, doing his best to answer as only dragons could.

'More would not be unwanted.'

He knew his message was seamlessly received when golden-emerald orbs widened and an ivory visage flushed several shades of delicate pink, usually flat lips going slightly agape before they clamped shut with coyness. Solas chuckled fondly as he found his legs again, seeking to join Mhairi in assessing the damage done, but all he could think as he closed the distance, as Cole and Varric moseyed their way over, and two toned orbs met his own again was:

'I do love you, my dragon. Every side of you. The anger and the care. The tears and the laughs. The intelligence and the idiocy. I love every side, and one day, I hope to scream it as you do--unbidden and until my lungs burst.'

#prompts #oc: fane lavellan #solas #solavellan #idiots *affectionate*#they are fools your honor!#fane exploits the greatest lie in dragon age inquisition #*the barrier can only be destroyed with an element opposite of it*#...LIES BIOWARE #DRAGONS SEE THROUGH YOUR LIES #hope you enjoyed it! <3 #working on more multiple character interactions too~! :D #dragon age #my writing #dragon age inquisition

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numbaoneflaya · 4 years ago

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Can I get a list of all ur ocs?

Well anon youve done it, you made me make a list of all my major OCS in one place. I hope your happy with yourself. Under the cut for obvious reasons, may link in my blog desc later.

Modern/BTD verse!!

Jilly- Ferret beastkin little creature, was recently turned into a werewolf by vincent as well so she's running around on full moons in a wereferret wolf hybrid creature form. Chaotic and friendly and wants to be everyone's bestie. She has the most energy in the world and is very kind hearted. Banned from most Claires for stealing and from one Home Depot for climbing the shelves. Prone to living life with rose colored glasses on and seeing the best in everything/everything even when there's nothing there. Socialization is a must for her and is why being basemented/kidnapped broke her psych so quickly and developed severe stockholm. Sometimes overly talkative/enthusiastic and can scare people off. Even if she sees someone shes decided shes friends with be noticeably 'evil', will convince herself it must be for some reason/her fault and ignore it.

Ciggy- Undead punk still learning to harness his powers to interact with the world as a ghost. Was sacrificed by a cult he joined for free concert tickets and to get laid. Likes to cause problems on purpose both pre and prior death and he's not above possessing someone once he learns how to. Was called Rooster in high school before he dropped out because he's loud, obnoxious and always screaming. And also has bright red dyed hair. Looking 4 ways to become less ghosty bcs he wants to be able to help raise his infant daughter, whom he died before he could meet. Bit annoying and in your face, likes poking at bruises, his or others. Kind of a sad heart seeking attention through volume and persistence.

Mike: Vampire loser! Sells drugs and lives at raves. Was turned when she was attacked by a coked out vampire (whom she supplied the product to) and has major scarring on her face and chest. Needs a somewhat constant influx of blood so shell sometimes take victims back to her place and chain them up, slowly draining them over time. Feels bad (ish) about it tho so it is possible to survive her if you are nice and or interesting enough. Kind of desperate for a friend and for love. Is a stalker. If she likes you enough/finds you interesting, she might just appear in your house one night and start rummaging through your fridge like nothing is wrong and youve been besties for years. Its best to indulge her and be friendly, otherwise she could turn violent quickly if her feelings are hurt.

Kilaine- Regular human woman, but fucked up. Born and raised by an elite waspy society she had an interest in the human body and pain tolerance since she was young. Quickly learned that these traits were socially unacceptable in most professions, so she became a doctor. The only family she cared about was her younger sister who she lost in a car accident, where they were flipped over and trapped inside while it was afire. While her sister burned up in front of her Kilaine only lost her left arm and had major burns on her body. This tipped her descent into sadism and she is now madly obsessed with bringing her sister back no matter the cost. Rude and offstandish, clinical.

Dragon age verse!

Thurwen- My main Hero of Ferelden with a bad temper and a heart of gold. City elf from the Denerim Alienage, 18 at the start of origins. She's a reaver warrior with a lot of pent up rage which sometimes scares others when she lets it out in battle. Over the years she's grown less moody as she's had to take the role of Commander. Crude sense of humor and violent impulses, very sensitive to the plights of others and tries often to help. Never seen crying in public but only cries to herself at night- major martyr and hanged man complex.

Caz- My circle mage elf inquisitor who was an apostate before the conclave. Blood magic, but make it sneaky. Wary of strangers and new faces, always dealing with the impulse to flee/find a high vantage point. Endless curiosity about the unknown/ the forbidden/ naughty, was supposed to be made tranquil for it but she escaped. Kind of a little creature as well, lived on her own for a while as an apostate in the woods, filed her teeth down to sharp ends to make herself look more intimidating (shes 5 ft tall) and less cute (her elf ears are huge and expressive, which shes embarrassed about)

Dag and Thagna- Carta twins! Professional lyrium smugglers since birth pretty much. Raised casteless in dust town and had to work their way up the chain of command by themselves. Dag is the brother, Thagna the sister. Their father traded them to the carta for drinking money and their mom died in childbirth so they have somewhat of a codependent relationship. Both charismatic and calculating, friendly and agreeable but won't hesitate to put a dagger in your back. Hard to pin down morally or physically, squirrelly bastards.

Reila: Dalish elf who works for the inquisition/ is the inquisitor in some aus. She has an extreme fixation on elvhen history and rebuilding what they have lost. Not a people person, prefers solitude. Takes some time to warm up to shemhlen as she has a hard history with them. Good friends with Caz, who recruited her in the first place. Doesn't understand very many social cues and finds societal expectations limiting and frustrating. Fondness for halla and hooved animals, which she finds graceful.

Elder scrolls verse!

Valkya: Near seven foot nord woman whos over a thousand years old by the events of skyrim. Tall and buff, two handed warrior and compulsive hero there to bask in the spotlight save the day. She was killed at the start of the events of Elder scrolls online and had her soul ripped out and sent to coldharbor and she's just been a pain in the ass about it since then. Her body can physically die and will not regrow pieces. Her soul however will escape and teleport to the nearest source of power where her body will regrow from an aetherial plasm until its whole again. Loud and brash, friendly and jovial. Actually pretty keen especially after centuries of life but prefers to play dumb as it makes people underestimate her. Plus, she really does enjoy mud wrestling and drinking contests and acting generally like a rambunctious frat boy. Ha developed a bit of a substance problem and a problem with acting out, as after being alive so long she would turn to anything to dull the ache inside of her that never goes away.

Espira- My Dragonborn! Redguard from Hammerfell who was briefly in the Ash’abah due to killing undead while protecting her parents water farm as a child. Ran away from them after years and went to Cyrodille, then to Skyrim and was caught crossing the border. Reserved, kind and soft spoken, she's a sword and shield warrior who's committed herself to doing good in the world by helping others. Dislikes killing and anything messy but believes it is often necessary in order to protect the weak. She blacksmiths often to save money on the upkeep of her own equipment, and takes up metal jewelry working as a hobby with the excess material. Prone to trusting others too much and giving too many second chances, as shes always looking for ways to make even the most hardened criminal a second look at life.

Riley- Espiras little brother who she locked in the wardrobe during the event of the water farm attack. In preventing him from doing violence against the undead she kept him from being conscripted into the Ash’abah. He's way more chaotic than his sister, and suffers from a case of little sibling syndrome in which he will often pester/poke at people just to get a rise out of them. Still kind hearted as his sister, he tries to hide it because he believes that the world is a cruel place and the cruel survive. Despite that belief he is often still unable to force himself to be cruel/careless, only making a show of it so that others leave him alone and don't see that he's very sensitive and emotional. Deaf in one ear due to a magic mishap in his youth, he trained and enchanted his most beloved rats to live for years and sit on his shoulder, alerting him to noises he would not otherwise notice.

Felria: Evil vamp :/ chaotic evil dunmer necromancer. Small and devilish and likes dead bodies too much. Manipulative and cunning, she loves acting. She's a trained assassin for the dark brotherhood and is the speaker. Likes dressing up for missions and wearing disguises like its all a play. Loves toying with people more than she loves killing them, will act in ways that cause as much trauma as possible for other people just for fun and she finds the reactions interesting. Considers herself too far removed from most people's perception of morality and of her so it's hard for her to trust someone or see them as worthy of knowing her. Finds the psychology of grief and fear to be interesting and wants to study them first hand. The hero of kvatch.

Herren: Fifty something year old rat woman looking for something to keep her going. Ran away from her wealthy family in her youth when they wanted her to take charge of the household, instead became an infamous jewel thief and swashbuckler. Spent most of her life traveling and stealing and double dealing. She's smarmy and sarcastic, a serial romancer of the highest caliber. Bit of a show off and a hedonist, always looking for the next good party or new product to snort. Her family died off due to the hard times she wasn't there for and she keeps looking for bigger and bigger heists to fill her appetite as she's chronically bored and lonely, though wont accept intimacy and will scoff at it out of the belief she doesn't deserve it. Irresponsible and selfish, lonely and terrified of any sort of commitment. Fun to party with though!

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iridescentmemoria · 4 years ago

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Every even number for Inky asks please! <3 and tell me their name and looks!!!

Pfhew! that was a lot of them! but i'm super happy i received this ask! i've been aching to talk about my inquisitor to someone <3 My main inquisitor would be Brenna Lavellan, She's a Dalish mage, pale skin with a dark green vallaslin. She has black hair, long, long enough to have to braid it and pull it into a bun behind her head. She wears several dreads too, with jewelry in them, but alas there's no mod for that. ( i use the mod dreads of the wolf on her ) She carries on her left cheek a scar that cuts through her face and onto her ear, she got it in a fight with a shemlen who'd tried to light their aravels on fire in the woods one night when she was only a youngster.

2 - How did they decorate and structure skyhold?

She decorates it with various trophies from their adventures through thedas, but the heraldry is mostly a mix between the inquisition and the dalish + elven designs. Some ferelden dogs, and an Avvar throne. 4. What are their views of the Chantry?

Fuck the chantry. That's basically her attitude. She understands faith is important to the people of thedas, they need hope, but the chantry is an outdated, cruel institution that practices nothing that they preach. 6. Who did they romance and why?

Solas. She fell for him quickly, his wit and charm and endless stories of the fade and the ancient elvhen empire. she loves him, with whole her heart. Where usually she would be wary of strangers, solas was one of the exceptions. She felt an instant connection with him and it didn't take long before he skillfully broke down her walls and made her fall deeply in love with him.

14. Who is their favourite and most trusted adviser?

If we're talking only the advisers she adores leliana, they cultivated a strong friendship. If we're talking the entire inner circle, that would be dorian, solas, cassandra and cole. 16. How do they react to the corruption of the Wardens? Why? She is apalled by their actions. For an institution to fall so low and resort to tying themselves to demons.. it was just too much. She banishes them from orlais. 18. Do they enjoy Wicked Grace, or don’t they? Not only does she enjoy it, she is also good at it and loves to challenge everyone in skyhold for a game or two. 20. Do they trust Morrigan? Trust? No. She's smart enough to realize Morrigan is in it for her own gain. She respects her and her magical abilities and likes to converse with her ( when she's not bragging about all the knowledge she supposedly possesses about elves and their heritage ) But she doesn't trust her. Morrigan is power hungry, and their debate at the well of sorrows shows that clearly enough. 22. What is their biggest regret?

Ironically, Not realizing Solas wasn't who he said he was. If she'd figured it out sooner, she might've been able to change his mind.. 24. How did they react when they found out about Blackwall/Thom Rainier?

Oof. Yeah that was a big reveal there. She had some suspicions about blackwall but would never have thought him to be a murderer. She pardoned him. But remains distant. Despite their friendship. 26. What makes them trust someone?

Seeing them standing up for what they think is right, standing up for people who cannot defend themselves. And those who do good deeds without wanting anything in return. 28. Did they disband the Inquisition or maintain it?

It was a tough decision. The inquisition was her everything, but seeing the state of thedas and knowing the truth now, that the entire organisation was infiltrated with spies and reeking of corruption... She disbanded it. She was angry and upset, but determined to work towards saving solas from himself. It would be easier with a tight knit group that doesn't involve all the politics and discussions in the winter palace. She also gladly went to kirkwall to live there after varric offered it to her. 30. How did they judge the prisoners? Alexius, Servis and so on. Specific a character.

Alexius was made to serve the inquisition, in researching arcana. But he will not be gaining his freedom. Servis was made to smuggle artefacts. Florianne was killed, and her box was used for community service. Livius Erimond was executed. Ser ruth was sent to the deep roads to achieve what she wanted. Samson was remanded to Kirkwall for judgement of his crimes, though if she was given the chance she would have executed him for all he did. 32. Who did they leave in the Fade, and why?

Stroud. To her it seemed the more logical solution at the time. besides, she loves varric dearly and couldn't take his best friend from him. 34. How do they cope with the stress of being Inquisitor?

Powering through. Trying her best to maintain her sanity by taking breaks on her own when she can. Also elfroot. A lot of it. 36. What was the most difficult choice that had to make?

Whether to disband the inquisition or not.

38. Emotionally, what was their reaction at Sahrina Quarry? The realisation made her nauseous to her core, the poor people there didn't deserve all that and she wishes she could have helped them sooner.

40. Do they get Cullen to start taking lyrium again? Why or why not?

Absolutely not. She supports his decision and provides him with counsel and comfort when he needs it. They are devoted friends, And seeing him overcome his addiction makes her proud. She trusts in him, she knows he can continue his work without the lyrium.

42. How do they view Tevinter? Oof. Yeah.. well considering she is an elf, she doesn't much like the place at all. The only good thing to come out of it is Dorian, who she loves dearly.

44. How do they think their race plays into being Inquisitor? It definitely does. A whole big deal. She is a dalish standing for all peoples. No matter their origin. She is the proof that everyone is worthy of respect. And she openly wants to use her power to advance the elves. 46. Which companion/adviser makes them think twice about their choices, if any?

Dorian. His voice is one of reason and she takes his counsel constantly. Also they have fun little outings that involve a lot of vintage wine and gossip. All the advisors are important to her, she listens carefully to josie cullen and leliana. Also cassandra. And cole. I think the only one she doesn't listen to is viv. ;) 48. What do they think about the Hero of Ferelden?

She doesn't know much about the hero of ferelden. Before the inquisition she kept to the clan and their worries, but she reads up on their story later in the library and finds herself feeling some level of connection to them, they both stand for something better after all. 50. Are they proud of what they accomplished? Yes. Despite everything. She feels like being a part of this whole inquisition took a lot from her, almost everything, but she is proud of what she has accomplished and the changes she's made to the world. Bonus! here's some pics of Brenna for the long wait!

#oc lavellan #ask game #ask game response #dai #dragon age inquisition funny #solas dragon age #dragon age: inquisition #da:i #solavellan #solas #fen harel #trespasser #the descent #solas x inquisitor #solas x lavellan #dorian pavus #varric tethras #da4

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yes-these-obsessions-are-healthy · 4 years ago

Text

WIP Wednesday 8/11/21

Had a writing stint where I pumped out 7K words in 3 days when I usually manage only..200-500 a week. Here’s some snippets of a WIP with my Gray-Ace Inquisitor Tallin and a very understanding Solas as they navigate her very first romantic/sexual feelings for anyone, ever (24 and never been kissed except that one time in the Fade, baby!!). She is a very nervous person by nature...

————-

Please just a crumb of feedback. A gif. An emoji. Please. I’m on my goddamn knees.

[snippet 1]

"Tell me 'no', and we can resume as we were without enmity. You are also at liberty to tell me to take my leave, in which case I hope to see you in the morning..." He stopped before her, drawn to his full height, head tilted slightly in a manner akin to a wolf intent on ascertaining a curious vision. “But if you choose for me to remain, you must decide once more. At your behest, I will gladly provide the chaste company of which you are so accustomed. We will sit. We will talk. We will read. We will retire in an exhausted fashion to bed. You will cozy up beside me like a nugling to its nestmate, content. But if you say 'yes', if you wish to learn how it is the wolves dance.."

The light gray of his eyes suddenly darkened and his lips spread wide and sharp, rendering him impish, lupine. Tallin's heart lurched, but to her inner wonder it was not accompanied by a familiar queasy unease. Her instincts were not screaming for her to bound away like a skittish halla from the man standing before her. Instead, the soft heat in her lower stomach flared like a bonfire given new life, its flames crawling up inside her chest, licking beneath her lungs. In the rare instances where someone looked at her in such a way--like she was something to be snatched up, like she was something edible--she retreated, recognizing that the individual had wordlessly marked her as prey.

Would it be so terrible to have him as her pursuer? That was what he was implying, wasn't he? That he had been observing her in that particular manner far longer than this emergent sense of craving.

What made it so different from the other times? What made his approach far less threatening?

The consideration, she realized. He is considerate.

If she was a halla, then he was a..a..

Her eyes flicked down momentarily in thought, landing on the dark jawbone hanging low over his chest from thin leather cords.

And here and now, she realized she had always had her answer. He was a wolf. A wolf with a wistful man's soul.

Their method of courting until now, if it could be called that, had not been a simple 'chase'. No, the wolf had deigned not to pursue, for it recognized the halla did not wish to be hunted down. If this particular halla was ever compelled to bolt, it would not do so while also secretly relishing the idea of hot frantic breath on its heels or teeth sinking into its throat.

"..then with your blessing I will take you to your bed and claim everything you are, everything you are willing to give. I will unravel you as easily spun silk, uncover for us both your desires that remain unnamed."

He shifted and out of the corner of Tallin's eye, a shadow moved. His words had coiled her up like an Orlesian spring toy, promises that spoke of capitulation and submission and frightening loss. Her head felt hollow, her skin tight and brittle. The anxious fire in her chest roared in its hearth unabated.

Her breaths shallowed. This was happening. Everything was happening. He was describing the clumsy mental images she had been too cowardly and too embarrassed (and too confused) to acknowledge. All of this, everything, was happening too much and too fast. She knew nothing of his predilections. She knew nothing of what she wanted other than to be with him. Beyond the bare minimum for procreation, the stories of brutal violence inflicted upon elf women by peasants and nobles, and the confusing comments made in passing by the Iron Bull, she didn't know what to expect.

If you speak it, you will make it real.

He raised his hand. She froze, spine taut. His expression gentled, edges shaved. The backs of his fingers stroked her cheek. "I will have you in the manner that a lover should. Gently. Sweetly."

As if he had woven a spell, Tallin gradually relaxed into the touch. It was not necessarily of her own volition, but she knew this. Nothing frightening ever came of this. This was familiar. Safe.

She heard Solas hum, thoughtful. "Yes, a gentle touch for a gentle girl. Would that please you?"

She swallowed, caught his hand and turned her head to press her lips against his hot palm. The world was silent for several moments. "W-Would you..?" She croaked. A question with many budding branches.

Would you..?

..be gentle?

..do all that you say?

..treat me kindly?

..love me?

Another step, and they were flush together. Her hand found his tunic and scrunched the material in her fist. As a precaution or an anchor she did not know.

He loomed over her fully now, both hands coming to cradle her face as if she were blown glass, gray sky eyes beholding her like Mother. Love. But now, also..

She offered no resistance when he tilted her head just so. He leaned in. His breath was scorching mint against the whorls of her ear.

"Yes. Until you can hardly stand it."

[snippet 2]

"You wish to-? Oh, 'ma'lath.." The tenderness in his voice made her eyes sting for but a moment. The casual nature in which he extracted her hand from the half-hard presence pressing against breeches could not fully offset the surge of embarrassment she felt. As Solas busied himself with kissing the knuckles of her offending hand, she silently berated herself. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

"Tallin."

Tallin started. To her chagrin, she found Solas peering at her over her curled hand, his gaze firm and knowing. The internal self-abuse had been playing itself across her face.

She couldn't do this, she realized. She didn't know *how* to do this. He was trying to coach her through it but what if nothing stuck? What if she kept making mistakes, misreading signs? What if this was all a put-on for *her* sake? What if he didn't want her and was doing this to placate her, as he had so many other times? Lovers had to touch each other, she knew that much, and for him to except himself from this exercise, it reeked of...

"Tallin." His voice said through the dull ringing in her ears. "Tallin."

"Ir abelas." This was a mistake, a horrible mistake. She turned away, intent on rolling off the bed and..where would she go? She didn't know. The blood pounding in her ears was making it so difficult to *think*.

An arm wrapped around her waist as firm a steel band, digging into her stomach. She struggled half-heartedly, frustrated tears leaking from her eyes.

"S-Solas.." she protested.

"Tallin. Come back to me, my love." She shook her head and bit her lip to hold back a pathetic whimper. Not to deny him, but to help rid herself of the looming thoughts.

Selfish. This was selfish. 'I desire you, you desire me, but I demand that I take from you and give you nothing back.' That wasn't how it was supposed to go, was it? It didn't sound right.

But she was greedy for comfort. Always craving it.

[snippet 3]

"Shh, shh. No. You are not like most others. You were born with a heart that hungers endlessly for love, but eyes that cannot see that the source from which you drink remains full no matter how often you sip. It is your nature, but it can be tamed with practice. You can learn to ignore these pressing doubts, in time."

"I want to do this. I want to feel this burning, to learn where it might go, but.. I'm still nervous about..you, and where you..fit."

"That is not an uncommon concern, vhenan."

"So I've heard. But what if I never overcome it? What if it still..frightens me? If you accepted it--"

"--I would accept it." His tone was firm, almost indignant.

"--then it would only be me that was benefitting from this. It would only be me that was taking."

Solas barked a laugh, making Tallin jump.

When he finally settled, his grin had not abated--a full one that revealed straight white teeth and sharp canines, crinkled eyes that glowed with pure mirth.

Tallin lay there, confused and a bit put out, by her hahren's strange reaction.

"'Ma'vhenan, there is so much more to sex than that." He chuckled again, the sound decidedly doting. "You see yourself as taking advantage of me, of taking while offering nothing in return until you have used me all up, yes?" A reluctant nod. "But you have never considered to ask how I feel in all this?"

Tallin blinked.

"In matters of state you display exemplary feats of compassion and empathy, but in matters of the heart you are callous to yourself. You believe that sex is a matter of 'taking', but that is far too reductive for what this is. Pleasure does not solely originate from taking or receiving. Giving is just as lucrative. In giving, I would be receiving your pleasure. The joy in giving a gift is to receive another's happiness, is it not?

"Y-Yes.."

"And do you not see that you are a gift to me?"

"I am?"

"Yes. Your trust that I will do right by you in this matter is a precious gift, one I will hold close to my heart. That you offer me the opportunity to teach you despite your lingering reservations is no small gesture."

[snippet 4]

"I love you." She said, muffled. "Ar lath ma."

"Lathan na. Bellanaris. Please understand that this is a request I must refuse. The time to learn of me will come later." At the familiar sight of Tallin's brow furrowing in confusion, he hummed, a serene enigmatic smile on his face as he cupped her inked cheek. He leaned in and planted an affectionate kiss upon her forehead before resting his against hers, peering into her puzzled brown eyes. "Tonight we are learning about you. This is your first experience not just with a man, but with pleasure. I will not risk overwhelming you with my wants when you have yet to determine what it is you yourself desire." Another kiss. "Slowly, 'ma'vhenan, slowly is best."

Sheepishly, "O-Okay, but I only wanted--"

He was quick to silence her with a kiss. "I know, I know, and you are so good to have offered." His voice dropped into a purr. "So good for me.." His mouth was on hers again, hot and surprisingly eager. Tallin's eyes widened, then fell closed at the familiar brush of his tongue against her lips. Thick honey-heat pooled beneath her skin; her hands found his shoulder and nape to instinctively pull him close as she obediently opened her mouth.

They clashed and fed upon each other's taste. She discovered his: sugar and..lemon. Lemon cake? It tasted good, a faint playful zing on her tongue.

Time and sense gradually slipped away with the air in her lungs. At some point he turned them both so she lay on her back. With his knees staked on either side of her, he could hover over her while avoiding making her feel trapped. Considerate, she thought with a burst of love, he is so considerate.

Solas was the first to pull away, and Tallin was only a little surprised that the soft noise of disappointment that she made at their parting didn't inspire any embarrassment in her.

What did make her blush furiously, though, was the show Solas made in how thoughtfully he licked his lips as he paused to catch his breath, grinning the whole time. "..mmh, an intriguing mystery."

Tallin didn't know if it was the lack of air or the wondrous nature of the kiss, but she couldn't connect the dots with what he was saying. "W-What?"

"The taste of you. I wonder what it could be. No, don't tell me." he clarified when she made a move to speak. He hummed to himself as his thumb rubbed the space beneath her lower lip, his grin simplifying into a satisfied smirk. Tallin felt another flare of heat radiate over her cheeks. "I will find out for myself soon enough."

And he descended upon her with his lips and tongue as fervently as before. She soon began to pant as she found herself once again suffocating on his sweet breaths. He seemed intent on fulfilling his promise. She could never have imagined a kiss to be this fierce, this hungry. He was devouring the very taste out of her mouth! And to her surprise she found she..liked it. She liked it as much as the soft and gentle kisses. Where those were affirming his devotion, these were confirmation that the desire she felt for him wasn't one-sided.

#wip wednesday #solas #tallin lavellan #solavellan #my writing #my fanfiction #gray ace #asexual #dragon age #DA:I

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nerd-elf · 4 years ago

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Love & War - Another elven apostate?????

* I’ve decided to post here the first chapter of my fanfic about my OC and Solas, I’ve been posting on AO3 for a while. You can check it here, if you like.

Summary:

(Warning: Spoilers) A templar alliance made Solas suspicious of Inquisitor Trevelyan. The man treated him decently, certainly influenced by his noble background, though he wasn’t fond of magic or the Fade. Sometimes the elf would talk with Varric and Blackwall, or play an occasional game of Wicked Grace with them, The Iron Bull and even Sera now and then. Yet, the Fade still held the best company, and his plans were going on with no major trouble. Although he resigned himself to stay, the great amount of Chantry forces around always followed by an attentive Cassandra made him apprehensive to even leave his cabin. Nevertheless, one morning, a dailish researcher would change everything.

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

The sun was rising in the Frost Mountains, and the guards of Haven welcomed some warmth after so many hours freezing during the vigil. Solas, on the other hand, grew accustomed to walking barefoot and in light clothes for so long that he was able to stand comfortably in the wind, appreciating the view of the frozen valley reflecting the colorful sky. He grinned at the vision in the early morning, remembering the nice chat he had with his friends in the Fade during the night.

Cassandra's shouts took him away from his peace however, when he heard her, as ruthless as always, saying “You think I am to believe that another elven apostate, covered with more suspicious theories and gadgets, would care about our cause to study it? Don't you all have a clan or a family to be with?”

He was on the move before he could even realize. He would never accept how ignorance could be so violent. Yet, he kept his voice amused and a sarcastic expression on his face. “Cassandra, may I know what's so thrilling to be already happening at sunrise?” He looked at the Seeker, her face frowned as commonly. Past her, there were 2 templars, one from each side of a retracted person, wrapped in robes and a scuffed cape, shaking with the tension of the situation. The figure had a tall, shiny staff on their back though, deliberately telling they were a mage. He couldn't see their face, but noticed the shape of pointed ears under the hood, trembling with fear, also revealing them to be elven. "Whatever this person is, seems to be scared enough of your entourage to do anything dangerous." He stated.

The Seeker looked at him with suspicion, and he had already regretted his decision. “You said you worked alone, Solas. Now tell me. Another elven apostate appears to me at 6 in the morning, telling me she wants to study the breach, just like you. And almost immediately you come, concerned about her, in the middle of a war between templars and mages, when the breach was clearly created by magic and no one can explain it, except you two. Care to tell me the reason of such a coincidence?”

He didn't know why, although he suspected. Also, another person studying the breach could certainly help the Inquisition, at the same time as presenting a risk to his plans. He didn’t pay much attention to what Cassandra said, since he already knew everything he needed by looking at the leather bag and the mage robes. Instead of giving the Seeker an answer, the elf pushed her, risking being stabbed or restrained, to catch the figure that started falling between the templars. The Seeker was outraged for a moment, placing a hand on her sword but soon stopping herself, realizing the other mage had collapsed.

Solas unwrapped the cape and hood to see a young woman, elven, her face marked in service to Dirthamen. It seemed fitting, since the dailish believed he was the “god” of knowledge. The simple notion of those ideas made Solas want to roll his eyes. She had long white hair, descending in long waves through her body and shining against the sunlight. Her breathing was weak, and her face blushing. “She has a fever.” He spoke. “Probably came walking through the night in the cold, following Haven’s lights in search for a place to stay. Do you really think I'd work with someone that reckless?” He looked at Cassandra and his gaze was grave, concerned, even a little defying. “Humans tend to consider all other races a menace, no matter how stupid that could appear.” He thought.

The warrior snorted. “Alright, bring her in and let us take care of her. But she will be interrogated, due to our fragile status.” The elf felt his good mood sinking with all the drama so soon, and he knew the Inquisitor wouldn't make it better. He was no fond of mages. "You are right" Said Cole, appearing when he felt someone was suffering. “She walked, wandered, wanted. ‘Cold in my legs, cold in my veins, no caves or shelters around. I knew I shouldn't have come to see the breach at night, but during the day there were too many templars. A light. More templars! Everything fades away.’”

Cassandra still didn't understand Cole, so after the shock of his sudden appearance, she instantly barked at him. “Quiet demon! She will be questioned.” The young boy gave Cassandra a piece of paper, suddenly the girl's leather purse was open. “But she doesn't know Solas. She's dailish, a mage. Her song is joyful, but delicate.” Cassandra read part of the girl's research, but still wasn't convinced. “And I will listen to that from her voice. After she wakes up.”

By the time human and spirit finished talking, Solas had entered his cabin with the stranger on his arms and put the girl on his bed, since the nursery was always crowded with victims from so many demon attacks, the Breach was still not closed. Then he gathered clean water, heated with magic, sank a recent washed cloth in the bucket and put it on the girl’s forehead, trying to stabilize her temperature. He also mixed some herbs with water and attempted to make her drink.

He didn't pay too much attention to Cole and Cassandra, his mind flowing with all kinds of thoughts. “Where did she come from? Could she be that stupid? Who did she work for? Could anyone know his identity? Why would she study the Breach? What did she know about it? Could she be useful? Or maybe a threat? Cole said her song was joyful. Part of him knew it was foolish, but hoped he wouldn't feel so alone anymore, since the Inquisitor was taking all the measures he could to make a new Chantry. With so many templars, reverends and the Seeker around...” Cassandra interrupted his wanderings. “Solas, I appreciate your healing abilities. Even so, I'll have to talk to her when she wakes up.” He nodded, still focused on the girl that had stopped shaking for a while.

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malfoygrass · 5 years ago

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Can we get some fluffy drastoria?💚

Puppy Love

The little monster was following him...it was trying to be subtle but the ball of fur wasn't exactly conspicuous as it rolled, stumbled and yipped behind him.

It was unpleasant, he didn't know where the mutt came from and last minute school shopping was already hard enough without having a puppy trailing after him. Didn't the blasted thing feel dark energies? Weren't animals supposed to shy away from evil?

"Hmm let's see" Draco sighed, turning around and picking up the puppy. It was a small beige thing, not quite well fed, but round all the same, it was so small it could fit in his palm and didn't have a collar "I wonder where you came from?"

The puppy yipped a bit and wagged its tail as if to signal it didn't know and Draco rolled his eyes. Almost against his will, Draco put the puppy inside a pocket of his cloak, resolving to dump it at a pound somewhere else it kept making a nuisance out of itself.

He was supposed to meet his parents in an hour and he had plans to make after all. He was momentarily distracted from his thoughts by the sight of Astoria Greengrass exiting Selwyn Apothecary.

He hadn't talked to the youngest Greengrass sister since she'd dragged him to the three Broomsticks and accused him of using his position in the Inquisitor Squad to get out of the detention hours he shared with Daphne. She was a sickly thing, but sharp, her eyes rarely missed anything, yet she never told tales. Draco could freely admit that she was the only person in her year he grudgingly liked.

Mainly because she'd visited him in the infirmary after he tried to stop Harry Potter from storming the department of....

"Little Greengrass" her nickname slipped his lips almost as an afterthought.

"Malfoy" startled, she turned around and gave him a shy smile "last minute shopping?"

"I outgrew my robes again this summer" he shrugged "you?"

"Dragonpox" Astoria sighed holding up her Apothecary monogrammed bag "I have to be the only girl in the world who's ever had it thrice, my healer was impressed"

"And by impressed you mean horrified" Draco chuckled

"When is Healer Barthory anything but?" She replied with hunched shoulders

"I gathered your family wasn't happy with the contagion possibilities"

"They never are" Astoria looked even more

disheartened than usual "it's been a lonely summer"

Draco knew all about lonely summers, his hadn't been exactly a walk in the park now that aunt Bella was back and lately even playing quidditch had lost its appeal. But Astoria didn't have to live under those kind of burdens and he had the sudden urge to make her smile.

"Do you like dogs?" He blurted out watching her face carefully "puppies I mean"

"of course I do" Astoria nodded a bit puzzled at the change of subject "but mother doesn't care for pets, so I've never had one"

"Then here, you can have this one" Draco muttered taking the puppy out of the pocket of his robe, not knowing why he was feeling so bashful all of the sudden "if you don't like it you can still drop it off in a..."

"I love it!" Astoria exclaimed before he could finish his sentence, almost ripping the puppy out of his hands in case he wasn't serious "oh it's a pug! Isn't he adorable" she gushed bringing it up to her face and touching her nose to the puppy's

"It's a he?" Draco didn't know why little Greengrass' elated smile made him feel so warm inside, it wasn't a feeling he was used to, but at least she wasn't sad now "Are you going to name him?" His curiosity got the better of him

"Onyx, like his eyes...I used to think that if I ever had a pet I would call it Salazar...but this cutie doesn't look like a Salazar" Astoria nuzzled the puppy then she turned to Draco "we should get him something to sleep on.."

"We?"

"Yes, we" Astoria frowned, sure they were not exactly friends, but he'd just given her a puppy, so she was willing to extend her goodwill a few hours and pretend he wasn't a tiny bit scary "does Magical Menagerie sell things for puppies?"

"I suppose it should, not that dogs have ever been popular pets around here, but they should have something" why was he letting her talk him into this?

"The age old association of dog howling with werewolves" Astoria huffed "I honestly don't know why some people still believe in that chicanery"

Draco chuckled refusing to get on the subject with her "Magical Menagerie?" He motioned with his head to the other side of diagon alley.

She resembled the puppy herself in some ways, small to the point where her winter robes always seemed to make her look like a badly disguised elf, her thin limbs alert and ready to move, even when she stood still.

Astoria evidently took to the puppy like bird to flying, cooing and cuddling it while Draco trailed behind her in a cloud of grey impatience.

The magical menagerie proved to be lacking in variety, but Astoria didn't care once she discovered transfigurable pet clothes.

"Look Malfoy, it's your nemesis, Pug Potter" Astoria giggled holding up Onyx to his face, making him wonder where she'd gotten the round glasses for the puppy

"Very well that's enough" he was doing a great job suppressing his laughter, to the extent that only his lips twitched upward

"Puglores Umbridge" Astoria said the incantation again watching the robes on the puppy turn pink with a little hat "Severus Pug" and black again, with a black little wig.

"Astoria this isn't funny" Draco tried, hoping she would stop before he did something awful... like laugh

"Princess Pug" had a tiara and a tutu, "Vampire Pug" came with a theatrical long cape and fake vampire teeth while "Victor Pug" came in whole quidditch regalia and "SlytherPug" even had a miniature Slytherin badge in his Hogwarts robes.

Draco lost the battle when Astoria tried to make Slytherin Pug say "Hiss Hiss Harry Potter"

"this is it, we are leaving" he laughed taking the puppy out of her hands

Astoria stood still for a minute, the sound of Malfoy's genuine laughter being something she'd never heard before... Funny, he was almost handsome when his eyes crinkled like that.

"Fine" she said, snapping herself out of the trance he put her in "but I'm keeping all of this"

"Your galleons" Draco shrugged "your father will see the bill either way"

"Spoilsport" Astoria shot back carrying her cart to the sales lady

Walking out of the magical menagerie, Draco realized that he'd actually enjoyed the afternoon with Astoria Greengrass... for some reason she never stopped surprising him.

"We should both be returning home so I guess this is where we part ways Porcelain" he coughed, clearing his throat

"For all it's worth, I'm glad you didn't leave me to do this alone today" Astoria confessed in a low voice "giving me a puppy... it's the nicest thing I've ever seen you do" she muttered embarrassed

"You probably won't be able to bring him to Hogwarts" Draco looked down, ignoring her all too deep gaze "but at least you won't be lonely anymore"

Astoria looked around making sure nobody was looking before giving him a quick hug "Thank you" she whispered into his chest, before turning around and walking away with her newly acquired pet

Draco remained frozen for a moment, the warm foreign feeling in his chest making him stare at her retreating back until the crowds of Diagon Alley obscured his view.

He didn't know why, but he hoped to see her again once the school year began.

#astoria greengrass #draco malfoy #drastoria #draco x astoria #puppy love #pugpuppy #author is trying to write fluff and this is an early result #i will post fluff #is this fluff #is this flirting?#i don't even know

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crqstalite · 4 years ago

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in autumn.

OCtober prompt ‘autumn’. yes! i am four days late as of publishing this 10.4.2020 at one in the morning but i digress. the prompt wouldn’t leave me alone, so here it is lol. just a fluff piece about a bit of reflection and one cold elf girlfriend.

ship: marzeyna lavellan/cullen rutherford word count: 2,060

Skyhold in autumn.

Creators, it was beautiful.

Or at least, Marzeyna thought so. Sure, she’d experienced it year after year with Clan Lavellan in the Free Marches, but it made her smile at the fortress they’d moved into earlier this year. The shades of red and orange and the hues of yellow that had slowly taken over the trees as the year wore on, she couldn’t think of any other place that she’d want to be. Other than back in Wycome to assist with rebuilding, sure, but she was happy enough to wander the place on an off day.

Of course, nothing ever just lasted forever did it? She’d also be ripped away from it in favor of visiting Halamshiral -- damned place within the next few weeks to prevent an assassination. Beyond the fact she would be the first of her living Clan to be there in their lifetimes, she would also have to endure nobles.

Plenty of human nobles. With all their fancy dresses, and all their fancy wines and the Games they liked to play with the people who attended the event, and their distaste for elves.

To say the least, she wasn’t particularly excited.

Evidence of their impending trip being the overly complicated ‘art’ Vivienne had done to her hair earlier this afternoon. She trusted the woman with anything and everything presentation (the dress she’d commissioned from Val Royeaux was nothing short of show-stopping, something Marzeyna would have to get used to the idea of but was still drooling over hours later), but she’s still picking the glitzy pins out of her hair nearly three hours after the afternoon spent bathing in the cooling sun in Vivienne’s loft. Relaxing, sure. She rarely had time to talk about the mundane with anyone.

By the time they got back from Orlais, chances are the snow would start to set in and it’d be Haven all over again. No more crunching leaves under boots or the off-chance she’d see a stray cat lounging on a window sill, just the freezing cold (well, more than usual at least) starting to set in to her bones and making her grateful she could get out of the mountains.

Then again, there’s also the impending doom of Corypheus.

But for now, she could enjoy the cool and crisp air whipping around the battlements, playing with her hair like flames fanned by the wind. She loves it, and there haven’t been enough moments as of late to take solace in what she likes. For the first time in weeks she’s actually sat down in her own desk, and for the first time in other weeks, she’s sat down with Josephine to go through every diplomatic issue she’d missed since she set out for the Arbor Wilds.

(They could not pay her enough to do that again, Inquisitor or not she did not have the attention span or willpower. There are still stacks of reports left for another date in her quarters. Under a paperweight, because she hasn’t gotten enough of the beautiful autumn breeze and has left the windows open. If a few blew away, well, nobody would be any the wiser.)

A door clicks open on her left, and she turns from scenic view of the snowy valley, pushing another rogue curl behind her ear and blowing another out of her face. Marzeyna had come up to the battlements mostly just to walk, but also to pull another diligent person away from his work, as she typically did whenever she was back in Skyhold. She smiles to herself anyway, as annoying as the rest of the world could be, at least she still had Cullen Rutherford by her side.

As tired as both of them have been as of late, it is still good to see him. Since they’d been decidedly moving further and further out from Skyhold, the more and more he had to deploy soldiers and the like. Another thing that not even Varric could pay her enough to do -- that wasn’t her favorite thing to do and she was not interested in learning.

“Long day?” She asks, leaning against the half wall while he runs a hand through his hair, “Looked like you could use a break.”

“I could, yes. Though--”

“Though nothing. Look how nice of a day it is out, it’s already autumn here.” Marzeyna replies, grinning.

That pulls a smile out of him, “That it is. I’d assume you like the change in weather?”

“Well, it’s no longer sweltering but it’s not freezing just yet either. Like a lull in the storm,” A leaf flutters up from one of the trees in the courtyard, dancing in the wind before disappearing back down the wall, “Relish in this, I’m sure we’ll come back to snow by the time Orlais has had it’s way with us.”

She nearly pouts at the smirk he gives her, mildly offended he’s taking amusement in her dislike of the coming snowfall, “Then the Inquisitor isn’t a fan of the winter months?”

“Just because you have the fluffy mantle and heavy armor doesn’t mean the rest of us can compensate nearly as easily,” She teases, just barely holding herself back from crossing her arms, “It gets so cold at night, there’s no using a fireplace to offset it.”

“Didn’t Josephine requisition more of the down blankets?” Genuine concern, that was sweet the way he asked.

“She did. But it’s also been weeks since I’ve been back in Skyhold. I got used to the warmth in the Wilds and the Plains,” She pulls at her overcoat as if to wrap it tighter around her. It wasn’t like she could drag them around the fortress either, collecting dirt and who knew what else on the tail of it. She really needed to find a proper coat that didn’t hinder her magic if she intended to make it through the winter, “It’s not a fair comparison.”

“Isn’t it?” Her look must be that sour that it’s at least amusing, “Fine then.”

Marzeyna pauses again, letting them bask in the quiet for a bit, admiring the changing colors of the leaves and wind blustering around them. It’s been nothing but fighting Venatori for the last few weeks, that and the undead and whatever giants they can imagine. No more running for now, and she’s not kept to Cassandra, Blackwall and Dorian for company anymore (not that she doesn’t adore them, but...well). It’s good to just sit and acknowledge how much they’ve gotten done, how much things have changed.

Cullen looks at peace at least, a far improvement from how he’d been just before she left the last time. He notices her smiling directly at him, and visibly flushes.

“I did...miss you,” She offers, pointedly looking up at him. She pulls her hair over her shoulder, standing properly again, “Were things okay while I was gone?”

He knows what she’s referring to -- more withdrawal symptoms, “Not as many, no. A minor improvement, I assure you. You needn’t worry.”

“I will worry regardless, Cullen, I don’t want you in pain,” Another pause, “But...that is good to hear.”

“Most likely only because you pushed to keep me off of it.”

“That was all you, and you know it. I can’t fight that battle for you, but you’re still winning it.” She offers. That much was true, she may have been another opinion in the situation, but he was recovering, little by little.

He sighs, glancing out to the horizon for just a moment, “Yes. I suppose you’re right, and I thank you for the strength to go on.”

“I do what I can,” She steps closer, gauging his reaction, “And yet? No one can quite replace you, as I’m finding. I was wanting to be back sooner than this -- letters are just not the same. Surely you understand?”

“As much as you love to write them.” He responds, surely referring to her inability to write the shorter reports than the others of the Inquisition are capable of. She likes to go on and on and doesn’t even realize it until she’s run out of parchment paper. Usually she only has enough room to squeeze in her own name at the bottom of the page in the loopiest handwriting.

“You read them?” She asks, surprised, and maybe a tad embarassed now -- considering they aren’t always the most academic. She would’ve thought they’d go directly to Leliana, considering just how much sneaking around they’ve done as of late, “I thought you were only getting the shorter ones.”

“The ones you send to me directly?” He smiles to himself, “Yes, I read those as well.”

An arm snakes around her waist, careful, tentative as she goes on, gently leaning into the touch and placing her hands on his chestplate, “You know it’s almost been a year, Cullen. Since all of this started, and now we’re here. Could you have imagined we got all of this done in such a short time?”

“It has been an experience, yes. Demons, Venatori, among other things. I don’t believe my past experiences would’ve prepared me exactly for that.” He responds, only slightly flinching when she leans her head against his chest.

“You’re telling me there wasn’t anything on what to do if demons started falling out the sky in the Templar instruction book?” She’s got such a stupid grin on her face again, but he chuckles anyway at her joke, “I’m surprised, they really didn’t teach you enough to be effective.”

“I don’t believe such a manual exists, but should you wish it, I’ll write one and distribute it to our Templar allies,” And now she’s chuckling herself, as halfway serious as he sounds.

Oh why does she care for him so? A mage and a Templar, for Creators’ sake.

The humans’ Maker is probably throwing some sort of fit right now, wherever up in the sky He is.

“I’m serious though, Cullen. It seems like just yesterday Cassandra was content to yank me out of the chantry’s dungeon to force me to answer for the Divine’s death,” That was one downside to the mostly...interesting memories, “And here we are, such an international power that we’re being invited to make an appearance at the Winter Palace.”

“Believe me, I am aware,” He muses, “You’re a very capable leader, Lavellan.”

“I didn’t do half of this -- you know the Inquisition would simply fall apart if any of you just walked away,” She rolls her eyes, sighing, “I just close the rifts with the glowing hand, not much else.”

He’s quiet for a moment, “You act as if this isn’t a result of your determination to save the world. It is. I would say you’re doing an admirable job.”

She highly doubts she would get the same flood of affection with anyone else, or that anyone else’s compliment would feel nearly as genuine as his does.

“Thank you, Cullen. We made it to Kingsway, I can’t say anything else about the rest of the year though. That’s decidedly still up in the air.”

Marzeyna feels distinctly...tingly. The good kind, like just before her magic would flare again during a fight, except the fight or flight response doesn’t accompany it. She’s just undeniably happy, and if anything arcane flickers under her fingertips, she doesn’t notice. Her ears are twitching though, probably moreso than usual when he presses a tentative kiss to her forehead.

It was much too pretty a day out, but she was content to rest her for just a moment, letting the world continue on.

The wind gusts around them again, and she shivers, audibly chilled by the cold and trying to press herself further into his embrace, the fur of his mantle tickling her cheek, “It’s much too cold out here.” Marzeyna barely keeps the whine out of her voice, she wasn’t a child, but she also didn’t feel as if she had to hide the fact she was having no fun dealing with the change in seasons from him either.

“Would you like to go inside then? You...could come and sit for while, there isn’t much work to be done this evening.” He offers.

“I...would like that. As long as you don’t want me reading any reports,” She makes a face, “I would be happy to spend the evening in your presence.”

#marzeyna lavellan #cullen rutherford #cullavellan #oc #original character #dai fanfiction #marzeyna/cullen

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idontknowwhatsarcasmis · 5 years ago

Text

Old Acquaintances Made Anew

A Morriana fanfic

Hellooooo!! And I’m back in the DA fandom! Hope you’re all keeping safe and reading and writing loads in this quarantine! Stay at home guys! ^^

I started writing this story… sooo many years ago I don’t even remember! Anyways, I know this has been written many many times, buut I wanted to present my take on these two lovely ladies meeting in Halamshiral. I do hope you guys like it, cause I am really proud of it and had quite a bit of fun writing it!

Also, I have already started a second chapter, on Morrigan’s POV back in Skyhold after this, but wanted to see if you guys liked the idea first!

So, do let me know yeah?

As aaaaaalways, thank you brother for beta-reading it ^^

Enjoy!

Ao3

Ff.net

Xxxx

“A distraction would help.” Ellana said, biting her lower lip.

“What kind of distraction? There are plenty of them around here.” Cullen said, looking around in displeasure.

Leliana held back a smile at that, and saw both Ellana and Josie doing the same. The Inquisitor shook her head however.

“No, no. It needs to be something bigger. That’d draw most people’s attention.” She paused and looked at her other two advisors to see if they had any ideas.

Leliana started considering what she could let slip to whom that might entice a duel, but didn’t manage to get far before she was interrupted.

“Oh!” Josie suddenly said. “I think I know what can happen.” She seemed excited (and… scared?) as she looked at Leliana.

Leliana narrowed her eyes slightly.

“Yes?”

“Well, it would positively draw everyone’s attention, and might even leave them quite a bit distracted afterwards.” She said, looking away while biting her lip.

“Josie…” Leliana’s voice was a warning.

“I’m listening.” Ellana said.

“Well,” Josie started, slow at first but gaining traction as she spoke. “As we’ve told you, Your Worship, everyone was staring at you and Lady Florienne while the two of you danced. Another high member of the Orlesian society and a high member of the Inquisition dancing once more might do the same.” She completed, almost casually. So casually, that it made Leliana freeze in place.

She couldn’t possibly mean-

“That’s an excellent idea, Josephine!” Ellana exclaimed excitedly, looking around the room, as if trying to find who could be the centre of attention. “Did you have anyone in mind? I think the only people here that know how to dance properly would be Vivienne, Cass and Dorian, aside from the three of you. Vivienne would not be a novelty really. And I was thinking of taking the other two with me… besides, I think either might do more harm than good down there.” She said with a small frown on her face, likely imagining Cassandra or Dorian insulting someone beyond repair while sharing a dance.

Which, Leliana mused, was very probable.

Still, she was quite sure that they were not who Josephine had in mind.

“Actually, Inquisitor. I did have two people in mind.” The ambassador started and paused to bit her lower lip, eyes darting quickly between Leliana and the Inquisitor.

“Oh?” She asked, eyes also finding Leliana. Less subtly.

“Speak your mind, Josie.” Leliana said. She had a good idea of whom Josephine wanted her to dance with. As much as she loathed to admit, the idea actually did have merit. Getting it to work would be another matter entirely, however.

Then again, 10 years was a long time…

“Well, it so happens that we have two veterans of the Fifth Blight here tonight. One of our own, and one of the Orlesian society.

Ellena looked confused as understanding dawned on Cullen’s face, his eyes now also focused on Leliana.

“Two?”

“I’ve told you I’d had dealings with her on the past, Inquisitor.” Leliana said, barely moving her lips.

“Deal with wh-Morrigan?!” She exclaimed a bit too loudly, and flinched at the look Leliana and Josie gave her. “Sorry. Morrigan? You know Morrigan from the Blight?” She asked in a hushed, excited whisper.

“Yes, we were both companions of the Hero of Ferelden. We fought side by side for many months.” Leliana said, her voice as if of its own accord taking a story telling intonation as she scanned the room, looking for red velvet.

As she focused back on Lavellan, however, she couldn’t suppress a small smile. The Inquisitor was always very excited to hear more about her time with Mahariel.. Lavellan probably heard a lot about her before in her clan, but it was different to have a first-hand account. It was not often, Leliana thought, that a Dalish elf was at the centre of history. Well, at the positive centre of history.

“You did?” Ellana looked like she was about to ask more when Josie cleared her throat, looking at her pointedly. “I-I mean, that is wonderful, though! Surely a dance between you two would draw everyone’s attention! I mean, I wish I could see it…” She mumbled the last part, and the three advisors smiled softly at her.

“While a good idea in theory, I am unsure if it’ll work in practice. Morrigan and I haven’t spoken since the Archdemon was slain. Even then, we never talked much. She… was rather reclusive. Mahariel was the only one she would actively speak with.” Leliana said, eyes once again sweeping the room in search for the witch. “Also, as far as I know, she never cared for dancing, either.”

Josephine tsked at that.

“Really Leliana, that was years ago. She’s been at court long enough to have picked up some steps. Celene would not suffer any member of her court to not know the basics, at least!” Josephine said ,and Leliana conceded her point. “Besides, as you said, you haven’t seen each other for a decade! I doubt Morrigan would not want to catch up.”

Leliana raised an eyebrow at that, face blank.

“W-well, she wouldn’t dare reject the Seneschal of the Inquisition in front of all these people? We are honoured guests!” She tried again.

Leliana maintained her expression. The Morrigan she remembered would have no qualms whatsoever about doing exactly that.

Josephine was suddenly looking very uncertain, and was about to say something when Ellana interceded.

“Well, I think she might surprise you, Leliana! When I talked to her before she seemed perfectly polite. Celene will likely be watching you two, so she won’t have to be concerned about any murder attempts during the dance, and I really need this distraction. I might be gone longer than before this time.” she said with a small, hopeful smile, and Leliana felt her icy heart melt a little. Ellana reminded her so much of Mahariel sometimes.

She so missed her dear friend.

Rolling her eyes, Leliana let out a small sigh.

“Well, time is of the essence, no?” She said, glaringat the whoop and smiles she received from her companions. “Wait for her to take my hand, if she does, before vanishing. You two” she said to Josephine and Cullen, “go to different corners of the room and look pointedly at the dancing floor once I, hopefully, get there. We want to attract as many people as possible. Ask one of the servants to spread word.” Leliana instructed as she started to push and pull at her uniform, trying to make it look more proper.

Stupid, ridiculous uniforms. Presenting a united front was one thing. Wearing this? It was an outrage. It’d help her play her part when asking Morrigan for a dance, however, so at least that.

The others nodded in agreemnt, and Cullen and Lavellan moved away to play their parts. Josephine, however, stayed behind. Leliana raised an eyebrow.

“Are you alright?” She asked, barely moving her lips.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Leliana felt her brow furrowing.

“Well, you seem nervous.”

“I…” Sometimes she forgot that Josephine knew her from before she had been the Left Hand. “It’s nothing, Josie, don’t worry. Go, time is of the essence.” She said, with a small smile. With a quick squeeze of her hand, Josephine motioned to the main balcony with her chin, before she made her way across the ballroom to the opposite side.

Slowly, Leliana looked to where Josephine had pointed. Right there, by the Empress’ side.

Leliana closed her hand into a fist. Was she nervous? Why, by Andraste’s name, was she nervous?

Visions of lingering glances flashed before her eyes. Words that were, day by day, week by week, less and less cutting and more and more teasing. Fond.

Taking a fortifying breath, Leliana minutely shook her head to focus, and started walking towards her target. She made sure her steps seemed casual, but wide enough to draw attention at the same time. People needed to be watching her as she approached the other woman.

When she was but a few steps away, Leliana finally was able to actually admire the ensemble Morrigan was wearing. The sight almost made her step falter. Red velvet. Gold details. Low on the front. Another vision entered her mind, one that almost made her skip a step. Maker’s breath. What was Morrigan playing at?

Another step made her come close enough to the Empress and her advisor to call the attention of those nearby. As the two women turned to look at her, something flashed in Morrigan’s eyes.

Time for a trip down memory lane.

“Your Majesty, my Lady.” She said in a clear and (appropriately) loud voice, taking a deep bow.

“Sister Nightingale!” Celene exclaimed, nodding her head and giving her a large and warm smile. Out of the corner of her eyes, Leliana saw Morrigan giving her a small courtesy, and her lips twitched upwards. “What a pleasure to have you at court once more. It has been quite a while.”

Leliana allowed her smile to become larger.

“Too long, your Majesty. I’m afraid my duties have kept me away for longer than I wished.” She said, making sure her voice sounded just the right amount of sad, as if she were trying to hide it.

“’Tis all for a good cause, I hear. With your Inquisition, now.”

The voice washed over her like the first ray of sunshine on a cold winter’s day. An inexplicable tingling sensation spread from the tip of her fingers to the other.

All of which Leliana promptly ignored.

Morrigan’s voice hadn’t changed much. The same tilt. The same way of saying ‘tis’. The same tone that tried to impress on you that she knew much more than what she was actually saying. Leliana felt her smile become that bit more genuine as she directed her gaze to her old companion.

“Indeed. Being the seneschal to the Inquisition is a very busy job, but one I take to proudly.” Leliana said.

“I’m sure.”

Their eyes lingered on one another, but Leliana could not for the life of her figure out what was on the witch’s mind.

“Oh, allow me to introduce you-” Celene started, only to be interrupted by Morrigan.

“There is no need, Your Majesty. Sister Nightingale and I have known each other for many, many years.” Morrigan’s voice carried like velvet around Leliana, just like it had all those years ago. Her tone as she said her title, though, made Leliana want to wipe that smirk off her face.

Leliana could feel more and more eyes being drawn to them as the witch took a small step closer in her direction.“Indeed, your Majesty. There was a time when we travelled together. When we fought side by side with the Hero of Ferelden to defeat the Blight.” Leliana said, letting her old bard training take over as she turned to look back at the Empress. “Alas, circumstances made it so that our paths were separated shortly after we emerged victorious. Your magnificent ball, however, has presented me with an opportunity I have long since waited for.” Leliana let a happy and grateful smile grace her lips as Morrigan’s eyes almost imperceptibly narrowed.

“I’m very happy to hear that, sister. What opportunity have I unwittingly given you?” Celene asked.

“To make an old acquaintance anew. If you’d allow me, Your Majesty, I’d beg you to let me take your advisor from your side for one dance. It has been many years, and I find myself wanting to not let this opportunity go to waste. You’ll be able to keep your eyes on her all the time, of course..”

The fact that that line did not taste at all like a lie on her tongue was something that Leliana would stash away for later analysis.

Celene laughed, delighted. “Oh, but I would love to see such an event! As much as I’ve been trying to impart on Morrigan the importance of enjoying oneself on the dance floor, I have yet to succeed. Perhaps you’ll fare better than I did.” With that, their whole entourage focused on Morrigan, whose eyes had not left Leliana and were by now more perceptively narrowed. To her surprise, however, Leliana did not see anger there. What she saw exactly, she wasn’t sure, but it wasn’t anger. Nor disgust.

Clearing her throat for effect, Leliana extended her hand and gave a bow, eyes never leaving the witch’s.

“Well then, will you do me the honour of this dance, Lady Morrigan?”

Leliana more felt than saw that most of the eyes in the ballroom were on her hand at the moment. If this was a few years ago, she’d be exhilarated… as it was, she was rather glad for the gloves on her hand that’d certainly prevent Morrigan (should she actually take her hand) from feeling just how nervous she really was.

Which was ridiculous. 10 years. She was hardly the same ‘girl’ she’d been last time they’d seen each other. And yet here she was, as enticed as she had been back then with the mysterious Witch of the Wilds. As nervous as she’d been the first time they’d been left alone at camp. The first time Leliana realised that she had developed quite the crush on the younger woman.

But it had been 10 years. Lingering looks and teasing words had long since been lost to time. It was ridiculous to still be feeling this way.

“Well,” Morrigan smiled. A small smile, for sure, but clear for everyone to see, and if Leliana was not very much mistaken (or counting too much on wishful thinking), quite the genuine one. “If I must.” She said in her usual brusque manner, making all those around them chuckle and Leliana’s smile reach her eyes. As their hands touched and Leliana straightened, her heart did double time, and she had to fight to keep a blush from rising to her face.

“Shall we, then?”

“I did just accept, did I not?”

“Indeed, you did.” Morrigan did. Which in and off itself was sign enough that Leliana was far too out of her game and need to get back to it

“Well, by your leave then, Your Majesty.” Morrigan said, exaggerating on her excitement for appearances’ sake, taking back control over her emotions.

“Oh yes, this is delightful! Go ahead!” The monarch clapped her hands, drawing even more attention as she went towards the balustrade to look down at the dance floor.

Taking a small, fortifying breath, Leliana started making their way down the stairs, Morrigan’s fingers gently clasped on her own.

Soon after they took the first few steps, Morrigan broke their silence. Morrigan did. Which in and off itself was sign enough that Leliana was far too out of her game and need to get back to it

“So, I assume you’ll be the one leading?”

Leliana almost laughed at that, but stopped herself just in time, letting only a smirk spread on her face.

“Well, I was planning to. If that’s agreeable to you, my lady?” She asked casually.

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

She could just feel her rolling her eyes at that, even if Morrigan had apparently learned to keep herself from actually going through with the motions in open view.

“The whole point of going to the damned dancefloor, aside from drawing attention to us, is that so no one can hear us. Stop the court talk.”

Leliana did laugh then.

By now they had reached the centre of the dancing floor, and Morrigan stopped right in front of her.

“How should I talk then?”

“We’re in a ball in Halamshiral! How many times have I heard you screeching about these situations?”

Leliana chuckled at that as she placed her free hand on Morrigan’s waist, the other grasping Morrigan’s more firmly.

“You want me to screech?”

“Of course not! But it is unusual to see you not making a single comment about everyone else’s clothes.”Morrigan said, placing her hand on Leliana’s shoulder, closer to her neck than one normally would.

Leliana masked her dry swallowing by giving the witch in front of her a once over, a playful smile coming up on her lips.

“I could start that right now with your dress, if you’d like.”

“Never mind then.” Was her immediate answer, though Leliana felt Morrigan relaxing at that. Humming satisfied, she let herself join in her calm as they started the first slow, easy steps of the song.

“’I’d sooner let Alistair dress me’, I believe were your actual words.” She laughed as she picked up their pace slightly.

“I really didn’t mean what I said before. Go back to being your weird formal self.” Morrigan quipped, making sure to place a scowl on her face. She couldn’t fool Leliana though; she’d been on the receiving end of her real scowls far too many times to not be able to recognize them.

“I did describe these exact details for your clothes, no? 10 years ago! Did you keep me in mind during all these years? Did you miss me that much as well, my dear Lady Morrigan?” She wasn’t even trying to mask the tone of her voice, and barely even realized what she’d let slip.

Despite what Leliana had told the Inquisitor earlier about masks and playing a part, she’d been right; Leliana had felt more like herself here than she had in years, and even more now, with Morrigan in her hands.

It couldn’t be helped, she supposed; she brought her memories from other times… happier ones, perhaps, even with the Blight. That year travelling with the wardens and their merry little band had been the best year of her life.

“Blast and damnation, Leliana. Go back to making small talk. ‘Tis a better use of your time and mine.”

Leliana openly laughed at that, heart beating as fast as it ever had, throwing Morrigan on a little spin before bringing her back.

“That’s the first time you’ve said my name to me. Ever, I think…”

If Leliana wasn’t paying so much attention to their steps, they’d be both on the floor then and there. As it were, she managed to plunge them in the classic and very dramatic swing dip. By the gasps and coos from all around them, she had managed to do so successfully, and they had indeed managed to gather quite a lot of attention.

“Careful now, Morrigan. We wouldn’t want you to crease your pretty dress, yes?” She asked, and there it was; that famous glare that she so fondly remembered. Though it did lack the actual ill intentions behind it.

A very hard pinch on her neck made her quickly pull Morrigan out of the dip. She picked up the pace, making Morrigan work to keep up as she went for some of the more daring manoeuvres.

“I’m surprised that all your time away from the court didn’t make you lose your touch at dancing, Sister Nightingale.”

“I’m surprised you’ve acquired such skills at all, Arcane Advisor.”

She was sure Morrigan would have shrugged had they been doing anything else.

“One does what one must to survive.”

“Indeed.”

Their words went silent for a few seconds as they spun faster and faster around the dance, the only sound coming from their mouths being a slight panting.

“How’s Kieran?”

Something fiercely protective flashed through Morrigan’s eyes at that.

“I hope he adapted well to the court?” She continued quickly, watching as Morrigan relaxed once more.

“Yes, though he did prefer to have a wee bit more freedom. ‘Tis fine though, he’s doing well.” She said softly as Leliana spun her. Morrigan didn’t need to ask her how she knew of her child. She certainly assumed that Mahariel had told her, and that the name had been learned by spies. Which was true.

“Anything on Mahariel?” Morrigan asked, as if reading her mind (she used to be quite good at that).

“Not for a few months now. You?”

“Not for a few years.”

As the song drew to a close, Leliana smirked once more.

“You ready for the grand finale?”

Morrigan’s eyes narrowed at her.

“What are you planning, bard?

Instead of answering, Leliana quickened up her pace, twirling Morrigan under her arm, spinning her away and then back in to finish with a low and daring dip, following after her so close that their faces were just a scant inch apart, right as the song finished and a truly thunderous applause started.

“Now, that wasn’t too bad, yes?”

“I hate you, bard.”

“Not yet, you don’t.”

“Wh-“

Before Morrigan could finish her phrase, Leliana, in a show of courage and impulse that she could simply not explain, closed even more the distance between their faces and pressed a very deliberate kiss on the other woman’s cheek, right in the corner of her lips.

Not wanting to give her a chance to recover and kill her on the spot, Leliana pulled them back to their standing position, taking one step back for a small bow. Morrigan automatically answered, before lightly, very lightly, taking back her hand and directing them to the stairs, under the sounds of animated and awed conversation. On any other circumstance, Leliana might have allowed herself to be quite proud.

As it was… well.

The silence remained between them until they were halfway through the stairs, and Leliana had started to seriously doubt herself. Her hands, which had begun to dry, were going back to being quite clammy.

“You’re ridiculous, Leliana.”

The spymaster could have laughed with relief at that.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, my dear Morrigan!” She said, smirking as she saw the other woman actually rolling her eyes. “Also, second time.”

Her hand being crushed was quite worth the exhilarating feeling she was experiencing at the moment. It had been far too long since she’d felt this alive.

As they reached the top of the stairs, they made a show of bowing and speaking rather loudly.

“Thank you for gracing me with your company for this dance and for the riveting conversation, Lady Morrigan. It was indeed a pleasure to make your acquaintance once more.” Leliana said, daring to bring the other woman’s hand to her lips for a brief kiss, barely touching her skin.

Morrigan’s eyes rolled again, a cross between an amused smile and a scowl on her face.

“The pleasure was all mine, Seneschal. It was good to converse with you once more. ‘Twas good fortune that fate brought us together once more.”

“May it not be the last time, my Lady.”

With a small smile for an answer, both of them turned away at the same time. But before Leliana could take more than one step, the witch spoke once more.

“I did, you know?”

Leliana stopped, turning around only partially. Morrigan was looking at Celene.

“Pardon?”

“Miss you too.”

Leliana froze, mind completely blank as she watched the witch make her way back to the empress.

She didn’t know how long she stood there, half hidden by the column behind her, rethinking everything that had been said on the dance floor.

Before long, what felt like a distant voice brought her out of her own mind.

A very, very excited voice.

“Leliana, that was amazing!” Josie somehow managed to sneak up behind her, Cullen right by her side. “Every single eye on this palace was on you! People actually rushed from other rooms for this!”

“They really did. Some of the guards even left their posts for it.” Cullen said, a small smile on his face.

Well, Leliana supposed, still utterly distracted, mission accomplished.

Now what?

Xxxx

Mission accomplished on all accounts, apparently. Lavellan had performed admirably, and pulled off something Leliana was not sure could ever actually happen. Brialla and Celene governing together was quite something. She allowed herself a small smile; Mahariel would have been proud.

She sighed as she overlooked the gardens, allowing herself to relax a little. Everyone was actually enjoying themselves on the ballroom now since all the mess was done with.

Light steps sounded behind her, but just a she began to tense up, she felt it. The smell of magic. Of wood, fire and wilderness that seemed to still be with her even after all these years away.

Morrigan.

Her heartbeat doubled again, but instead of nervousness, she felt light. Relaxed, even. Happy that she’d been reached out to.

“And here we are once more. Following a Dalish elf in events that shall change and shape the world.” Morrigan said.

“We also have a qunari, a dwarf, another elf, and a warden.” Leliana let an amused smile play on her lips as she leaned her hip against the balustrade, half turning to face Morrigan as the witch came to stand by her side. Rather closer than necessary, but Leliana would certainly not complain.

Morrigan raised an eyebrow. “And from what I heard, you also have an older mage that thinks she knows better than everyone else.”

Leliana let out a short laugh at that.

“We have you for that, my dear Lady Morrigan.”

Leliana was sure that the glare she received would have sent many running for their lives. Not her though.

Morrigan scoffed at her lack of response.

“I don’t think I know better than everyone else, bard. I know I do.” She said simply, and Leliana rolled her eyes.

“Of course.”

The two paused, looking out of the palace, to the far distance.

“And I’m not old.”

Leliana laughed at that, turning to look at Morrigan from head to toe, in a very deliberate way. The same way she had 10 years ago, which had almost earned her a fireball to the face for her trouble. Now, though, the only heated response seemed to be on the witch’s cheeks.

Was that a blush?

Leliana smirked, but said nothing.

“What?” Came, predictably, the cutting question.

“No, not old indeed.” She said lightly. “The years have served you well.”

“Stop your games, Leliana.” Morrigan said, rolling her eyes. Leliana allowed her smile to become truly open and genuine at that, wanting to hide nothing at the moment.

“It is no game, Morrigan. Also, third time.”

Blush still in place, Morrigan turned to face her.

“Are you gonna keep count now?”

“Is it going to become a common enough occurrence for me to not have to?”

The question was not only about the name and they both knew it. Is this where they’d part ways once more? Or would they fight together again, side by side?

“Perhaps it shouldn’t. Maybe I’ll return to calling you bard. Or Sister Nightingale. Seneschal, even.”

Leliana felt a happiness she hadn’t felt for a long time settling deep inside of her.

Side by side it was.

She took a small step closer to Morrigan, their knuckles now brushing.

“I’ll stop counting, if you promise to keep saying it, Morrigan.” She said in a whisper, a little tremble in her voice at the boldness of her request.

Morrigan stopped for a few seconds, just looking at her. A look with so much feeling behind it that it reminded Leliana of how Morrigan had looked at her right before the fight against the Archdemon.

Without realising what she was doing, Leliana grasped Morrigan’s wrist as if to stop her from leaving again.

Once more, it seemed as though Morrigan had been reading her mind, because instead of recoiling as Leliana was expecting, Morrigan simply covered her hand with her own.

“Good. Seeing as I’m to live in Skyhold for the foreseeable future, it’d get tiring quite quickly.” She said, her dry tone failing to mask the fondness in her voice.

With a light squeeze on her hand (so light that Leliana thought she might have imagined it), Morrigan turned around and walked back towards the door, back to the party and to Celene’s side. Just before the witch crossed the threshold, Leliana recovered her senses, ignoring the blush on her own cheeks.

“I’m looking forward to working with you once more, Morrigan.”

The witch stopped.

“So am I. I guess wonders never cease.” She turned to meet Leliana’s eyes for one last time that night “Good night, Leliana.”

And with that, she was gone.

“Good night, Morrigan.” Leliana muttered to the empty balcony.

She turned to look over the gardens once more.

Morrigan had awoken something in her today, and she had no idea how the witch would feature in her day to day routine and responsibilities back home. This whole night had been almost an out of body experience for her; As if she was ten years younger again, flirting with danger, politics, lies, deceit, and with a wild apostate. And she’d loved it.

But tomorrow, they were to head back to the Inquisition. To Skyhold, where she was not a seneschal, but the spymaster. Where her responsibilities had weight, where her actions counted to their minimal details.

It had been a dream… a wonderful dream (full of murder, treachery and lies, but such was their life, and such was where she thrived in), but it had come to an end. Tomorrow, things would be back to normal.

Supposedly.

Leliana sighed.

What had she gotten herself into.

#morriana #dragon age inquisition #dai #leliana #morrigan #leliana x morrigan #morrigan x leliana #da fanfic #dai fanfic #fanfic #I love these two

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blarrghe · 5 years ago

Text

Lavellan Bros

I wrote a couple AU stories for @serphena‘s amazing delinquent Inquisitor Theo Lavallan. They were so fun to write and these two are my two new favourite sons :3 This one is an AU where Theo is a scout for the Inquisition of my Lavellan Inquisitor, Taren. They grew up together, but drifted apart over the years as their respective jobs took them away from the clan for longer stretches. Now, Theo has come to join the Inquisition, but he isn't quite the same rambunctious little scoundrel that Taren remembers.

AO3 link or read more under the cut!

“Inquisitor?” Josephine called out to Taren as he went rushing past her office. He skittered to a halt mid jog, and took a few quick steps back toward the sound. His arms were full, piled high with bandages and bundles of dried elfroot which threatened to topple out of them with the speed of his turn. They were destined for the healers’ tents, and he was busying himself with the errand, but it was nothing that couldn’t wait for a request from his advisor.

Josephine was standing in the hall outside of her office, flagging him down. She had a quill in her hand and an urgent look on her face. “I have a Dalish elf here, he says he knows you.”

Taren had moved past her and through the door before she could finish the sentence. Just the words “Dalish elf” were enough. One of the People, finally.

The figure in the chair opposite her desk was turned away, head slightly bowed and shoulders hunched, but he turned cautiously as the Inquisitor entered, a long slender neck careening around the back of the chair to look toward him, silvery blond hair so light it was nearly white flopping messily over his eyes.

“Aneth ara, Inquisi-”

Taren interrupted the greeting as a wide smile spread over his face. “Th-Theo?!”

The elf at Josephine’s desk stood, all six and a half feet of him rising out of the low chair. He raised one hand in an awkward but friendly little wave, and Taren promptly dropped the towering pile of supplies he carried.

Taren all but leapt into him, wrapping his arms around the young man so quickly and so tightly that the force of it generated a surprised “oof” on impact. Theo didn’t return the gesture, but stood there, towering over Taren like a birch tree, arms stiff and spread out to the sides like long, awkward chicken wings.

That wasn’t like the Theo Taren remembered; the brat he knew would have hugged back with matching enthusiasm, lifted him off the ground while calling him some teasing nickname that played off his own stature. Taren let him go, quickly. The shattering of the world had affected everyone, and anyway, it didn’t matter: he was just happy to find a familiar face.

Taren held the young man out at arms length, hands gripping him almost at the waist, as his own shoulders came up only to his biceps. “How long has it been? What are you doing here? It’s so good to see you, da’len!” He wasn’t so little, now, hadn’t been for years, but he would always be a da’len. Taren flooded the space between them with excitement, but Theo still looked rather stunned, not returning his smiles. Taren paused, releasing him and taking a long look at his face. Same simple Valaslin - Taren remembered how he had winced and gripped his hand through every second of their application - same unruly silver hair, though cropped a little shorter than he used to wear it, but his eyes were a little less bright, and the smile he finally returned was tinged with irony.

“Is everyone alright?” Taren spoke in slow Elvhen, dread seeping into the question. He had received letters from members of the clan, updates on life since he had left, but not enough.

“Yeah,” Theo answered, and his smile picked up a little, reassuring. He kept their conversation in the native tongue. “They’re fine, busy. Bereth and Sulahnna just had another baby.” Another one, no wonder there hadn’t been many letters. A newborn would occupy the whole clan.

Taren was beaming again. “Tell me everything.” He requested excitedly. Theo only shrugged.

“You know me,” he replied, “I haven’t really been around.”

Taren tried not to let the disappointment show on his face. Theo was like that, always away for long stretches; hunting, trading, facilitating the movement of city elves and Dalish mages to other clans. It was something they had in common, as well as the reason that he had seen so little of him, after he had come of age.

“Why are you here?” Taren asked again, looking over his gear and around the small office. Theo was in a hunter’s attire, light leathers and a thick scarf. A cloak to match was draped over the chair, and a bow and quiver of arrows leaned on the desk. Spread atop the desk were a collection of papers, formally written in Josephine’s elaborate looping script and stamped with the symbol of the Inquisition. They looked important, and vaguely disciplinary. “Are you in trouble?” That was more like the Theo he knew.

Taren remembered Josephine now, standing in the doorway looking on with an expression of confusion and mild amusement - though mainly confusion - as Taren had prattled on in lightning fast Elvhen. He was normally slow and quiet in speech; the unfamiliar tongue of humans took more consideration, well-versed though he was.

“Is he in trouble?” He asked her, his expression settling into one of concern.

“They’re saying you can stop what’s happening to the sky - to the world,” Theo explained in quick, quiet Elvhen before Josephine could give her answer, “I wanted to help.” Taren smiled again, small and proud. Of course he did.

“It seems your friend got himself into an altercation with Commander Cullen the moment he arrived.” Josephine relayed her part of the answer with seriousness in her tone and a purse of her lips.

Taren sighed, but he was close to a laugh when he spoke. “Why does everyone who wants to join us insist on attacking my Commander first?” He remarked, rhetorically. Theo gave him a questioning sideways glance. “Never mind.” He sighed. “Cullen’s fine?” His attention was still on Josephine, who nodded. “Then he’s forgiven.” He said quickly.

Josephine shook her head with slight exasperation, but she moved to her desk and began clearing away some of the papers.

Taren turned back to Theo, all smiles once more. He returned to the quick, excited Elvhen. “So, who else have you met? Do you need a tour? I can introduce you around, or there’s a tavern. Do you need a room? It’s a bit cold to sleep outside, up here, but you should see the sky at night - so many stars, sometimes auroras!”

Theo was shaking his head, still looking stunned, but less uncomfortable, some genuine amusement returned to his smile. “I’m not staying here.” He said, and he gave the high castle walls a look that Taren understood. He wasn’t yet used to dwelling somewhere so closed up and heavy with stone himself.

“Me neither, as much as I can help it.” Taren said. Looking around again, he remembered his errand; the bandages and herbs were now piled onto a decorative table. Josephine had gathered them up while he had been busy making excited greetings. “Well, help me deliver these, at least.” He made the request invitingly, already gathering some of the supplies into his arms. Theo took the rest, and followed him from the ambassador’s office while throwing one last wary glance over his shoulder.

Theo took in the surroundings as they walked, eyes surveying the various diplomats and workers in Skyhold’s main hall, ears perking at the whispers that followed wherever Taren went. Taren heard them too, but he was mostly accustomed to it, and something about having a little piece of real family in tow put him more at ease than he would usually be. He explained a little about the things they passed; “library through there, and they call that ridiculous thing my throne. I hate it. Well, I suppose the craftsmanship is impressive, I don’t know, I let Dorian choose the actual design. I just don’t like to do any actual sitting in it.” Theo didn’t appear to be really listening, but he didn’t mind. “Anyway, these are for our healers, there are a few elves there, but they’re all Circle mages. So strange, Circle mages, but they do know their spells.”

Theo visibly relaxed once they stepped outside, and Taren smiled to himself; he knew that feeling, too. “After this, I can at least introduce you to Scout Harding,” Taren offered as they approached the tents, “she heads up most of our expeditions. I think she’s headed to the Emerald Graves next, if you’re interested.”

Theo nodded. “Like I said, I’m here to uh -” he paused, head turning to watch an elf in pale blue mage robes exchange greetings with an Inquisition soldier. They didn’t wear the Templar uniforms anymore, but this soldier had been one - they had a certain way about them; you could just tell. Taren watched too, his gaze less anxious and more subtly concerned. His policies had fostered peace, but there were still tensions. The interaction ran its course, and he heard Theo let out a quick breath. “I’m here to help.” He finished.

Taren brightened, his smile hanging just a little off center, and shoved Theo lightly with his shoulder. “Of course you are, you big soft beanpole.”

And then, finally, Theo laughed.

----

A little over a week later, Taren had the chance to reunite with Theo again, once he had finally put enough hours of dull war room meetings in to organize his own rift-sealing expedition to the Emerald Graves. Scout Harding told him that he was the fastest messenger and best hunter she had ever met when he asked, and that made Taren smile, but when Theo did arrive at the Inquisition camp that evening, the messages he brought were not as uplifting.

“The Mad Elf is a threat to our very way of life, such heretical rhetoric cannot be trusted -” Taren held up a hand as Theo read him the letter. It was one he had intercepted from some Orlesian Comte or Baron or somesuch to another, and he had heard it all before. Theo clearly had not, however, and he seemed to be attempting to burn a hole into the page with his eyes. Taren decided to lighten the mood.

“I think they’re talking about you.” He chided, nudging Theo with his elbow. Theo’s brow was still furrowed, and he prodded the letter with one angry finger.

“Says ‘Taren Lavellan’, here.”

Taren grabbed the letter and looked at it, feigning surprise. “What? But I haven’t an angry bone in my body! Me? Mad?” He tossed the letter aside. “You know how these shems are, they think we all look alike. Must have mistaken you for me.” He winked.

Theo rolled his eyes, but it had done the trick. “I’m as tall as two of you, little brother.” Tongue and cheek, Taren was nearly ten years older.

“Hmm,” Taren returned the eye roll, “but I am not the one who punched Cullen in the teeth last week. Must be you.”

“I didn’t punch him in the teeth!” Theo exclaimed, his tone embarrassed, even a little frustrated, “I grabbed him by the collar.” He crossed his arms and blew a stray wisp of silver hair from his eyes with a huff. Apparently this wasn’t something fit for joking about.

Taren sighed, “sorry, da’len.” He said, heartfelt. “What was that argument about, anyway?” Concerned. Theo was still so rigid compared to the young rascal he remembered, even out here, where the world was green.

“Nothing.” Theo muttered.

Taren frowned, but he didn’t press it. He had a habit of asking too many questions; it made him a good Inquisitor, but he also knew that sometimes all that was needed was a good friend. “Come on,” he said instead, “food.”

Theo wandered off to eat by himself during the meal, quietly staying out of the way of the Inquisitor’s party of trusted companions. Taren wanted to introduce him, especially to Dorian, but he let him be, and simply gushed a little about his old friend. He told Dorian of the time that Theo had nursed an injured squirrel back to health, and when it had imprinted on him and begun following him around, how he had crafted it a little wooden dish of its own and attempted to teach it tricks with which to entertain the clan children. It hadn’t really worked, the squirrel mostly ate acorns and ignored commands, but it did ride on Theo’s high shoulders for a time, probably mistaking him for a tree. He was just finishing up the story when Theo cautiously approached.

“Aren’t you a tall drink of water?” Dorian said admiringly as Theo made his best attempt at a friendly introduction. “Pleasure to meet you, Taren says only nice things.”

“Mostly nice things.” Taren corrected teasingly, patting the seat beside himself.

Theo took the seat hesitantly, and was still quiet as the jovial conversation continued around him.

“Hey,” Theo said, after a while, “do you think you could come check out a cave with me tomorrow?”

“Sure,” agreed Taren easily, “what’s in it?”

“Don’t know,” Theo answered, a small smile finding its way to his lips, “need someone itty bitty to crawl inside and find out.”

#lavellan bros #theo lavellan #my ocs #other peoples ocs #taren lavellan #dai #dragon age #dragon age fanfic #dragon age inquisition #dragon age inquisition fanfic #my writing #swnr?#I've said it before and I'll say it again #let! all! the! elves! be! friends!#fluff #family feels #clan lavellan

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