#ingllvar

[mercysought]

you of all people understand what it means to have the love of your life turned into someone else. /that was before i saw this one - talking about the lichdom w asharen mayhaps? also, ouch :')

I do not know if they were ever someone else.

It was perhaps her lack of knowledge, given the understanding they now had to the nature of Mythal, Elgar'nan, Solas. But truthfully, she didn't know. She felt that Solas had always been himself, it would have been a disservice, a justification perhaps to think that it was anything else. Asharen would not justify his actions. The Lighthouse held his regrets, Solas' still beating, bleeding heart open for all to see. Like a corpse being studied, dissected for all its parts - and for that too she felt a bitterness in the back of her mouth. This too felt like a betrayal, not towards her but towards him.

To remove the agency, the full weight of the choice they had made, from them. It felt cowardly. And she may flinch, she may, she did, but she would not turn her gaze from every mistake she saw them commit.

   "I once believed that having a long life made people braver, wiser." it made sense, much like the thought that having a house of her own with a couple of orange trees made sense in her dreams as a child. The world was open and full of opportunity, the limitations were just blurred lines shaped like the sounds of armour clanking in the distance and in stranger's faces that she couldn't even picture.

As an adult, she saw what the fear that lead to decisions to extend one life and there was nothing but a deep pang of pity that clung to her lungs. Asharen's light eyes lift from her own brass hand to Valeria, brows arched "I thought of what I might do if I were to have the power at my fingertips and all that time."

The stories told by the fire, about the Gods and about how Arlathan had once been. The gifts and blessings the People once had before it was all torn from her. This magic that was so intrinsic in their blood and that while it might be lost, it was still something they should prize, that they should be proud of. She could almost laugh, laugh to not cry, at how naive they had been. How she understood why so many had refused to listen. And why they had reacted so violentely to when Solas had attempted to tell them the truth.

The truth was that the Dalish and the elves that had split from them into the cities had spent years clinging into any and all semblance of hope. Of a past that that held them as real people, people worthy of respect.

   "I see now that our short lives are a blessing." she whispers, closing her eyes for the moment, placing both hands within the pockets of her robes.

How else could they react to the knowledge that the Gods that they had been taught had protected them and made them someone of importance to this world had treated them no better than the world did now? Worse, perhaps?

   "For what is worth, Valeria," the Inquisitor finally speaks, turning to the other with a small, soft smile. Her warm, flesh hand touches hers, holding it softly but firmly "I am so sorry that you should bear the pain of the choice he has made. And that he is so deeply blind to it."

Of all people, I know what it is like to watch the love of your life make choices that they will ultimately regret, choices that they think will fix wahtever they feel is lacking while being fully aware that it is a mistake. Ultimately, it is their choice to make, and that no one can take that from them. All they could do was try to stop them, to try and to stop them. Until their very last breath.

BEYOND THE STORM // accepting . @ingllvar

[hoboblaidd]

(whisper, probably approaching some faction reps or guards idk but in the end game au) ❝   i hope you can do a northern accent as good as an orlesian one. & please, for the love of the departed, be normal.  ❞

ask meme | whisper something in his ear

Solas throws her a withering look before adjusting his posture. “I am always normal, thank you,” he says, in a decent northern accent. He slouches his shoulders slightly, looking just that bit shorter, and replaced his look of affronted superiority with something passably humble. He clears his throat, harsh enough to leave a rasp, before approaching the guards.

He bows his head and says, in a raspy and far better northern accent, “My esteemed mistress requires safe passage across this bridge. She is happy to pay handsomely for the service,” he adds, throwing Rook a slight, and very smug, grin.

Perfectly normal.

[howetragic]

If you give a man some fish he’ll be fed for a day. But if you teach a man to fish he’ll say ‘thanks’ and then the next day he’ll ask you for some more fish. And when you ask like ‘didn’t I teach you to fish yesterday’ he’ll be like ‘yeah but you just do it so much better’.

     “You sound like my late wife.”

The comment is made with affection, the archer’s lips curling slightly upwards with amusement as he regards the younger Mourn Watcher. Rook, they call them. Hand-picked by Varric, he’s been told. 

     “Well. I already know how to fish and I do it quite well,” Nathaniel offers. “So that won’t be an issue between us. I promise, I am a quicker study than most.”

[bolyde]

Since Esha grew up entirely in the Necropolis, she was often kept with other Foundlings. This includes Valeria ( @ingllvar ) who she views as and refers to as her sister.

Valeria is one of her favorite people in the world and someone she looks up to above most others. She followed Valeria into the attack against the Undead Nobles during the War of Banners and left the Necropolis with her in the aftermath.

[recitedemise]

"Were you to ask me, I'd say you look dressed for a funeral," Gale remarks, and yes: for those that would toil so longly with the rotting, that — bless her heartstrings! — is a compliment, indeed.

It'd be a romp, he told her, drowned in costly wine that would stun a gawping convent. It's a yearly sort of gathering, an excuse for the Watchers to amass and gab or laugh in leisure. In truth, it's but parts a night of posturing, some egos with their rivals trading daggers through grins; however, the grand, vast majority with their stimulating genius? Well, were he not so rotting, he'd have waltzed there, too. Sure, Rook's on a 'sabbatical' of sorts, but perhaps saving the bloody world has paled their ire somewhat. Thoughtfully, he rummages through his jewelry, a tiny, dainty box with twinkly, pearly inlays. When he turns back again, his smile spreads infectious -- and up his blighted vein, his eye gleams lavender.

"You know," he offers his brooch, a gold, dazzling beetle, "we would spend so much of our time tending to our departed. I'd never demean our charge, of course, or the remarkable weight that would rest on our shoulders, but I find it just as important to celebrate the living." He sets it in her palm. "Tonight, let it remind you of your resounding and breathing achievements. Here. It'd dazzle anyone who'd ask for a dance just enough to slip away." How hilarious a man, isn't he? "I do hope you know how to trip the light fantastic." / @ingllvar, ♡ liked for a starter.

[dicethrow]

Wake up for lucanis!

@ingllvar | disassociation starters

Send [Wake up!] for Sender to try to break Receiver out of it

Another night, another restless wander with Spite at the reins.

The demon had learned not to use the Eluvians to escape directly—too obvious, too guarded. Instead, it sought another way out, methodically inspecting every crevice of this lighthouse prison. If Lucanis got hurt in the process? Well, that was his fault.

He. Broke. The. Deal.

Perched precariously over a ledge, the demon stretched out a hand, letting raw Fade magic swirl around its fingertips. Freedom. He could almost touch it.

Temptation whispered, urging him to leap into the Fade, to cast off this wretched cage of flesh. Maybe then—finally—be would be free. But no. He knew the truth, if Lucanis died, so would he. The mortals were right about that much.

The demon hesitated, torn between desire and survival. And in that moment of indecision, a pair of hands seized his shoulders, yanking him backward with a sharp shake.

The world lurched, and just like that, the demon’s grip slipped. Lucanis stirred, blinking awake.

"Wha—how…?" His voice was hoarse, mind still sluggish from the possession.

"Spite. Mierde. I need a coffee…"

[hznkss]

@ingllvar: ❛ well, someone's cranky today. ❜ sentence starter: always accepting!

' don't you sniveling layabouts have a world to save, or something ? may i get a moment of peace !? ' yes, someone is very cranky.

[blightworn]

🎵🎵

you make me wanna die - the pretty reckless

you make me wanna die i'll never be good enough you make me wanna die and everything you love will burn up in the light

welcome home - coheed and cambria

you could have been all i wanted but you weren't honest now get in the ground you choked off the surest of favors but if you really loved me you would have endured my world

aka songs directed @ emmrich (during school + years later) god bless

[coldjustness-archive]

There is the straighten of Neve's shoulders and the dart of her expression forward. a neutral expression staring at the mirror that put her one step away from the crossroads. Everything in her told her to just walk, there was no reason for her to remain and hear what Valeria had to say. She didn't owe her anything outside of the job that she was hired to do by a close friend. Nothing outside of the oath she had to protect her City from those who would destroy everything. No, loyalty to Rook was not why she returned, it was loyalty to Docktown.

No, at this rate - Detective Neve Gallus only stayed because she owed that much to Varric, that and she would never be able to sleep again with a job left unfinished.

So as she watched the ever twisting and turning magical swirl of the eluvian, refusing to look at Valeria - she does not to speak at first. Trying her best to push away the frustrations that boiled beneath the surface, trying her damned best not to feed into the knot in her throat that brought a taste of bile into her mouth. Every time Valeria opened her mouth Neve's fist tightened on her scepter, each word she uttered felt like a promise broken before the sentence was even completed. It's going to be a long time before she doesn't feel this way..

The Detective lifts her chin, nose turning upward with the gradual turn of her head to eye their leader - their unbent and unbroken, and unwavering leader. Who was there for everyone, and managed to stay strong for those around her.. Except when it came to Docktown, she was there for everyone but Neve Gallus. Typical. "Rook." She starts, a neutral tone, "I can't stop you from doing what you want, so long as you understand that I don't expect you to be there." Nor will she ask, at this rate she knows Rook won't bother showing up. "People don't care about Docktown, they make claims, yes- but those of us who do actually care, are doing what we can."

Then her gaze darts over her again, looking her up and down before she hums, "If you insist, then by all means follow - but please, Rook, stay out of the way. You've done enough."

@ingllvar / continued from here.

[mercysought]

i can’t change your mind, can i? /also asharen :')

  "I think you know the answer to that question."

The Inquisitor turns her heels on the eluvian room, quickly taking a good look at the room around. Her head still spun and truthfully she could hardly believe this tower was the place that she had been after all these ten years. Briefly glancing to Rook and then up into the roof, when only darkness welcomes her sigh, her attention returns once more to the other woman and the room that was solely lit by the incredibly large eluvian.

It looked different, than the one that they had in Skyhold. She wondered for the briefest of seconds if the magic that it was able to hold was much larger due to the its size, the larger amount of surface to allow for larger and more powerful enchantments. Or perhaps, well, perhaps it was just a way of filling in space. What a strange place. Asharen wished she could stay longer, beyond the large rotunda that brought more memories than she had initially expected, she hadn't really explored much further.

Half of her wanted to. The other half could not wait to leave again. You have waited so long, search so long to find this place and now that you have found it you cannot wait to leave it. Biting into the inside of her cheek, her light eyes finally return to look at Rook.

All things considered, she seemed to be holding out well, even if she looked at Asharen like someone that was about to be abandoned in the rain. Giving the other a small kind smile, Asharen walks softly closer to her.

  "You do not need me over your shoulder telling you what to do at each step." truthfully, Valeria would likely do better if Asharen kept her distance. Having a figure of authority so close often made people freeze, wait for her to say something, approve and disapprove. They needed to move fast and they needed to find out as much as they could. Asharen feels her heart sink, Varric's absence was all the stranger and hurtful now, given where they both stood.

Lowering her eyes, Asharen hums still with a smile. Kind, warm eyes seek hers as she raises her brass hand for one last handshake "Varric trusted you. And so do I."

BEYOND THE STORM // accepting . @ingllvar

[dcvium]

@ingllvar liked for a starter!

"What's it like to live in the Necropolis your whole life?" There was genuine curiosity to her tone. "It seems odd, growing up without the sky... does it blind you now? Are trees and grass odd?"

[ourdawncomes]

It feels like the first time in ages she's sat down. She sinks into her seat with a little grunt, stretching her leg out under her desk. The runelight from the walls cast the former Inquisitor's face in a warm glow, though when she smiles at the woman across from her it seems to only invite shadows on her face.

The woman is familiar, even if Thora can't easily recall her face. She's met, they're sure (Varric loved to introduce her, albeit not always by her name. Sunflower- it stings a bit when she sees them, now), but that isn't how she knows her. She'd seen that expression in the mirror, before, and in the face of Paragon Tamar in the brief months she'd known her.

She'd seen it in Solas, too, although she didn't ever think to ask why until it was too late to ask him anything.

It's the face of a hero, or villain, depending on which side of the coin you're staring at: the kinslayer or the Paragon; the Inquisitor or the heretic; the rebel or the Wolf-

The Rook or the calamity.

Varric had trusted her, and maybe that should be enough to trust her with everything. But trusting her hadn't saved him.

(That isn't fair, she thinks, but thinks it anyway).

"So," Thora begins, her one arm moving to scratch under chin of the nug that lays peacefully in her lap. Its siblings mill about the floor of her office, tucking under the legs of chairs and anywhere they can be both in the way and out of it at one time. "Tell me how you and Varric met. I'd heard the story from him, but he..."

She swallows the hitch in her voice. "Let's just say I'm convinced he was lying."

@ingllvar | rook

[bolyde]

EXHUMATION: A Web Weave for Following After Your Sister Even When You're Afraid @ingllvar

Stand by Me, Cover by Florence + the Machine

the night will cover what we've done, Anna Marie Ottaviano

Definition of Exhumation, Cambridge Dictionary

Antigone

Fiona Finnegan - Sisters, 2015.

Arcane S2 (2024)

[theharellan]

TAS!! literally was so excited when, after being recced skalls' blog, to peek on yours and joly's and see you both active??? i came yelling to your inbox like a crazy person, just all golden retriever energy, because i had such fond memories of threading and chatting, and of your portrayal of solas. he's not AT ALL an easy character, one that also looms so large in the franchise and one that everyone has opinions on, but you write him with so much nuance, layers, and understanding that i (1)

often find myself nodding with and agreeing with your headcanons, divergences, motivations, etc. you're just so spot on, you COULD be his writer from ea in disguise and i would never know. beyond that, your writing is beautiful and has so much character to it. your metaphors and ways of wording things are so fresh and actually perfect, and i hear solas in everything you do. i'm also astounded because you write other characters and drabbles and you capture distinct voices for them too and just the range you display, the crafstmanship in your writing, is impeccable. beyond that, you're genuine, funny, and so nice, and i'm just really glad to have you and your solas on the dash again <3

goose did you really just call me an EA dev the AUDACITY

lksdf i kid i kid. thank you so much for leaving such a long and kind message for me sjdkfj.

i cannit wait to see what you do with your rook after having seen what you did with theria. i need these two to be the worst to each other.

[thanflowers]

↪ memes / accepting!

@ingllvar said: ❛ i’ve been having a bad day for the past several years ❜

        “since before varric hired you to go after solas, even?” elspeth asks, eyebrows rising as she crosses her arms. ��you have my condolences. that's a long streak.” 

[veilshield]

𝑰𝑻 𝑾𝑨𝑺𝑵'𝑻 𝑺𝑼𝑹𝑷𝑹𝑰𝑺𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑻𝑶 𝑺𝑬𝑬 𝑹𝑶𝑶𝑲 𝑨𝑻 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑪𝑨𝑵𝑻𝑶𝑹𝑰 𝑫𝑰𝑨𝑴𝑶𝑵𝑫. He canted his head, dark curls framing his face as he watched the other. 

❝ 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐤. ❞ He said. ❝ 𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐨? ❞ 

@ingllvar liked for a starter with Viago~