#inquisitor : eludysia lavellan.

[therookandthecrow]

I've not just one canon Inquisitor going into Veilguard, that one being my Dorian-romancing, Dalish Knight-Enchanter, Aedanthir.

I've also got Eludysia, my main Solavellan who is also a Dalish Knight Enchanter, because I am very creative and very, very open to different play styles. I also headcanon that she's Merrill's cousin, so there's that too.

My Iron Bull romancing Dalish red head Knight Enchanter, Ena'vuna, who is "definitely not a mage" in her own words, despite the fact that she can shoot magic from her hands at will. Whatever you say, Ena'vuna!

Shivana, my Blackwall/Thom Rainier romancing Dalish Mage -- who, you guessed it; is a Knight Enchanter like all three of the above. I wonder what my favorite mage specialization is in Inquisition? Hmm.

[vir-tanadahl]

As the Moon Rises

Chapter 1: Shadows of the Past, Veils of the Present

I’m eagerly rewriting As the Moon Rises, which was originally written back in 2017, in anticipation of Dragon Age: Veilguard, channeling my excitement into refining the story. Summary: Isera Lavellan, at her mother’s behest, is sent to assist her twin brother, Banreas—the Inquisitor—in his mission to stop a force determined to bring about the world’s end. Together, they uncover long-buried secrets of their shared family history while Isera finds herself drawn to a mysterious non-Dalish elven mage whose knowledge of her heritage runs far deeper than she could have imagined. As the stakes rise, Isera must navigate this dangerous journey of discovery, where the past holds as much peril as the looming threats of the present. Solas x F!Lavellan.

[Ch1]

She arrived with two Rivaini escorts, old friends of her mother who spoke only broken King’s Tongue. In their small Rivaini village, the language barrier had been of little concern. But now, as two humans traveled with a seemingly blind elven girl across Thedas, they made for an unusual sight.

Isera hadn’t seen her brother in over three years. Their last meeting had been by chance, when she and their mother unexpectedly crossed paths with the Lavellan camp in the Free Marches during their journey back to Rivain. Isera spent time with the Keeper and her aunt, while Banreas was away on a hunt. When he returned, he seemed tougher, more worn by the world, with a hard edge that hadn't been there before.

The twins had been torn apart at the age of six, when Isera’s magical abilities surfaced far too early. The clan, fearing the danger of harboring another mage, deemed it unsafe to keep her. Among the Dalish, families were often split between clans, typically through marriage, but exiling untrained mages into the wild—alone and with little aid—was a grim tradition. Eludysia, their mother, refused to abandon Isera to such a fate. Standing firm, she informed the clan’s First of her decision: she would leave with her daughter. In her absence, Istimaethoriel would become Keeper of Clan Lavellan. As Eludysia and Isera vanished into the distance, Banreas was left behind, his cries echoing in the wind as his mother and sister disappeared from his life.

Eludysia’s first instinct was to find safety with another Dalish clan, but the wary glances and quiet whispers that followed them told her everything she needed to know. An untrained mage child was a risk, and no one was willing to take it. Still, Eludysia stood tall, her power unmistakable, the years she’d spent teaching others the peril of magic etched into the way she carried herself. There was no place for them here. So, with Isera by her side, they set out for Rivain, where magic was not feared, but embraced—where the winds carried words of acceptance rather than suspicion.

The small group trudged toward Skyhold, their cloaks pulled tightly around them as the wind howled through the mountain pass. Each gust stung Isera's skin and sent shivers down her spine. Skyhold loomed in the distance, its towering walls a silhouette against the darkening sky, both imposing and ancient. But to Isera, it was more than stone—it pulsed with a magic older than memory, a quiet hum she could feel deep in her bones and it shimmered with the presence of centuries-old magic.

"We’re close," said Celso, the elder of the two escorts, speaking in Rivaini.

Isera's breath hitched, her chest tightening as an uneasy knot settled in her stomach. She clenched her hands, her thoughts racing. Did Banreas get their mother’s letter? Would he still recognize her, let alone welcome her after all these years? Her mind swirled with questions, but the weight of the unknown lingered most—what did he think of them now, after so long?

Isera’s mind spun with unanswered questions. The unknown gnawed at her—always had—but now, here she stood, teetering on the brink of something vast and uncertain. She stared into the abyss of it all, heart racing. The only answer she had was the one that mattered: would she take the leap?

Celso left her at the edge of the Great Hall, his steps echoing as he disappeared into the stone corridors. Lorenzo, standing closer now, leaned in slightly as he spoke, his voice low, as if sharing a secret. His lips curled into a playful smile, giving the impression of flirtation as he spoke in Rivaini. “Now, your brother knows you can see. Keep that between the two of you. Watch them—look for their true intentions. You know what to do.” His eyes lingered on hers, though beneath the smile, there was something sharper, more deliberate in his tone.

Isera nodded in silence. She understood. Her gaze followed Lorenzo’s as they watched Celso at the gates, gesturing animatedly as he struggled to explain, in the common tongue, that the Inquisitor’s sister had arrived. The guard’s brows furrowed, confusion plain on his face, while Celso’s words tumbled awkwardly into the cold air.

After fifteen minutes of back-and-forth bickering, Celso finally signaled to Lorenzo, a quick motion that conveyed impatience. Lorenzo turned to Isera and guiding her to follow him toward the back of the hall. As they moved, Celso muttered under his breath, “The Inquisitor’s in a war meeting. He’ll be out soon.” His tone was clipped, as though the wait had frayed his nerves.

Isera watched them silently from the shadows, her gaze slipping over the gathered nobles. They shifted in their seats, casting furtive glances in her direction when they thought she wasn’t looking. It was clear they didn’t know what to make of her—an unfamiliar presence cloaked in silence, observing them with far more attention than they realized.

“She’s blind, isn’t she? I heard she’s the Inquisitor’s sister,” a noble muttered, their voice dripping with disdain. “Of course the elves would send her. He probably has to send them gold just to keep her alive. Surprised she’s lasted this long,” another commented.

Lorenzo’s body stiffened beside her. Without a word, he stepped in front of Isera, blocking their view of her with a casual, practiced ease. Leaning in close, his breath warm against her ear, he whispered, “We should have kept such a treasure hidden in Rivain.” Before she could respond, he pressed a light kiss to her cheek.

Isera turned her head away, her voice low and dry. “Careful, Lorenzo. Someone might think you fancy me,” she responded.

The door to the war room swung open, revealing her brother flanked by his advisors. One of them, speaking with a thick Antivan accent, hurried forward, visibly flustered. “Mistress Lavellan, my deepest apologies. We expected your arrival tomorrow. Rest assured, we’ll have the servants prepare a room and meal for you at once.”

“Josie, it’s fine,” her brother interrupted with an easy smile. He stepped toward Isera, arms outstretched, and pulled her into a quick embrace. Her body stiffened, unprepared for the sudden closeness, the unfamiliar warmth of family after so many years apart."

Josephine’s eyes flicked to Isera’s face, her breath catching when she saw the pale, gray-white irises. “Oh,” she murmured softly, composing herself quickly. “We’ll arrange for someone to assist you around Skyhold—there are quite a few stairs, after all. We wouldn’t want you confined to just one room.” With that, she hurried off, already planning in her mind as she disappeared back into her office.

“Isera,” her brother’s voice broke through the quiet moment of her thoughts, pulling her back. “This is Commander Cullen and Sister Leliana. They’ve been my trusted council throughout all of this. And that was Josephine, our ambassador and diplomat.”

Isera’s eyes flickered up, barely meeting their faces before dropping again. She had a role to play, and she couldn’t afford to forget it. “Hello,” she replied, her tone measured.

Commander Cullen and Sister Leliana offered slight bows in greeting. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Isera. Banreas has spoken of you often,” Leliana said warmly, extending her hand. Her accent was unmistakably Orlesian.

“Oh!” Leliana gasped, her cheeks flushing as she quickly withdrew her hand, realizing her mistake. The air between them thickened with awkwardness, but Isera remained composed, unfazed by the moment.

Banreas and Cullen chuckled softly at the mistake, though Cullen’s voice was laced with nervousness as he murmured, “It’s a pleasure.” His Ferelden accent was clear, betraying his unease. Sensing the awkwardness, Banreas stepped in, his instinct to shield his sister evident.

“You must be tired, sister,” he said, gently taking her arm. “Let me show you to my room until yours is ready.” With a quick nod, he dismissed his advisors, their uncertainty still lingering in the air. As they turned to leave, Banreas caught the eyes of the two men who had escorted her. “Thank you for delivering my sister,” he said, his tone warm but firm.

Celso and Lorenzo exchanged a brief glance, nodding in silent understanding before turning to leave the Great Hall. Celso took one last look at Isera, his expression unreadable, before disappearing through the door. As they walked, Isera broke the tension with a hum and a wry smile. “So, an Orlesian, a Fereldan, and an Antivan walk into a bar?” she quipped, resting her free hand lightly on her brother’s arm.

Banreas chuckled, the sound easing the weight between them as he gently guided her through the door, closing it behind them. Once the door clicked shut, his hand fell away from her arm. Without a word, he directed her up the stairs, their footsteps the only sound in the otherwise quiet hall. They walked in comfortable silence until they reached the threshold of his quarters.

“What are you doing here, sister?” Banreas demanded, his voice tight as he shut the door with a decisive thud. Isera moved freely around the room, her fingers brushing the edges of the furniture as if she could see through touch. “Mother sent me. She’s worried.”

Banreas let out a frustrated sigh, sharp and bitter, like the taste of over-steeped tea. “So, she sent you?” The resentment in his voice was unmistakable. “You can use me, just as she did,” Isera replied, her tone steady. “Your companions don’t know about my abilities. There are secrets within the Inquisition, brother—secrets even you don’t know.” She turned to face him, her voice firm. “I am just as strong as she is.”

Though her eyes were clouded, the power behind her words was undeniable, her connection to the Fade and mastery of spells a match to their mother’s. Banreas couldn’t deny that. “I have a spymaster—and the Gods only know how many agents,’ Banreas stressed, sinking heavily onto the sectional.

Isera’s lips curved into a teasing grin. “Then pray tell, brother, who spies on her?” Her voice was light, playful, but the smile quickly faded as she moved toward him, her tone softening. “Mother didn’t say why she wanted me here. But I did as she asked. If you don’t want me here, I’ll go.” There was no teasing now, just quiet resolve. Banreas’ reply was sharp, the heat in his voice unmistakable. “I can’t do that.” His words hung in the air, heavy and raw, revealing more than he intended—a mix of frustration, responsibility, and something deeper that he wasn’t ready to confront.

“You’re the Inquisitor, the Herald of Andraste. You can if you choose,” Isera replied, her voice quiet but firm, as if daring him to confront the truth he didn’t want to face. When Banreas stayed silent, his jaw clenched with unspoken thoughts, Isera pressed on. “I’m a skilled healer, Ban. Let me stay and care for the Inquisition’s soldiers. Or take me with you when you travel to the villages and cities—I can help those who need it.” Her voice remained steady, though a flicker of vulnerability crept in.

“I don’t know why Mother sent me here, but it’s clear she wanted me near you.” There was something unsaid in her words, a quiet plea woven into her practicality, one that only her brother would notice.

Banreas sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he stepped closer, the weight of his decision clear on his face. “Fine,” he muttered. “You can come along when we travel. And while you’re at Skyhold, you’ll tend to the sick. There’s a tower near the Commander’s office—we’re in the process of rebuilding it. The top floor will be your quarters, and the lower floor will serve as a place for you to treat the wounded.”

Crossing his arms, he met her gaze with a serious expression. “But until then, don’t let anyone know you can see. We’ll... make use of that ability—or the lack thereof.” His words were practical, but there was a protective edge to them, as if he was shielding her in ways only he understood."

Isera nodded, her movements slow and deliberate. She could feel the weight behind his words, the seriousness of what he asked, but also the unspoken care threaded through his agreement. It wasn’t just an order—it was his way of protecting her, even if he wouldn’t say it outright.

[thebookworm0001]

Self-Rec Meme

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you’ve written, then pass on to a couple of other writers. Let’s spread the self-love!

thank you to @rosella-writes for the tag! I did do it recently, but I've put out more fics since then so I'm doing it again!

1 - Last Chance

The first smut fic I ever wrote and the one that will make you cry. Very, very proud of this. It also has a companion fic and a follow-up fic if you feel compelled to read them.

Rating: E

Pairing: Ellana Lavellan x Solas

Summary: After years of work fighting against Fen'harel and his agents, the final battle between former Inquisitor Lavellan and the man she loves is only one night away.

Links: Tumblr | AO3

2 - Stolen Moments

It. Has. ARt. The art is my desktop background. Read this and then stare at the art.

Rating: G

Pairing: Ellana Lavellan x Solas

Summary: Ellana and Solas steal a moment alone. Alt. solavellan did not get a repeatable kiss scene and I'm fixing that.

Links: Tumblr | AO3

3 - so wretched, so precious

A bunch of tiny scenes that I update when the mood strikes me. Chapter 5 - titled 'Training' - is my favorite right now. If you like it when a character holds a knife to their love interest's throat you will like that chapter.

Rating: G

Pairing: Ellana Lavellan x Solas

Summary: A collection of one-shots exploring moments both big and small during Ellana Lavellan's tenure as Inquisitor.

Links: AO3

4 - Banter

Banter! Want silly conversations? Angst that will hurt your heart? General shenanigans? Here you go! The only one of my ongoing works with any sort of frequent updates.

Rating: G

Pairing: Ellana Lavellan x Solas; General

General Summary: Character banter between Inquisitor Ellana Lavellan and her companions.

Links: AO3

5- Modeling Expectations

Some smut that I wrote for @roseategales for our (unrelated) lavellans. It's gay. I love it and you should too.

Rating: E

Pairing: Ellana Lavellan x Eludysia Lavellan

Summary: Since taking a body, Ellana has come to rely on Eludysia to help her navigate the waking world and its new experiences, but one inquiry leads to a more hands-on demonstration than she expected. Ancient Elvhenan AU.

Links: Tumblr | AO3

Tagging: @roseategales @shift-shaping @oxygenforthewicked and @redinkofshame - no pressure!

[bluewren]

Welcome to DADWC!! I’m so intrigued by your Lex Lavellan/Dalish, so I’m here with the prompt: “Get on my shoulders, you’ll see better”

Thanks for the prompt and curiosity. 🥰️This is something from when the two of them visit Wycome.

@dadrunkwriting

Word Count: 1018

There has been many cities and towns that Eludysia has visited. Alienage have been a common sight in them, a Vhenadahl is always a cultural symbol in them. It is something that elves here turn to as a droplet of their Elven heritage.

Other times, the Dalish mage would have taken one look and moved on. The intricate lives of the Alienage elves were never of interest to her, it was never wise for a mage to stay at one location for too long nor would she be conspicuous amongst city elves. This time was different, the first time which both facts are untrue. So she rests her legs at the base of the tree, letting herself be at rest with her legs folded together.

The bark had their roots painted to touch the branches. There are children playing tag around the Vhenadahl. The prays of elves wishing for the Creator’s blessings, something that she considers a bit peculiar to her ears as the elvish tones and sounds were a bit too unfamiliar for her ears to follow.

“Tag! You’re it.”

“No fair! You’re not allowed to tag a hero.”

The cheery endearment that the two kids have brings a smile to Eludysia’s lips. She has a smirk puffs up her cheeks for the bright eyed.

“And what makes me worthy of being called a hero.”

“I dunno.” The boy twiddles with his thumbs. “You work for the Inquisitor. That means you saved everyone at our Alienage!”

“Oh? Is that how you see Lady Taliesen coming to rescue everyone?”

“Yesss!!” The girl with him throws up her hands. “I saw her riding on a golem!! She was so cool.”

“We tried to play Golems and Viscounts once.” The boy sighs. “But rocks are really heavy.”

“Perhaps there are funner things to play than pretend golems.” Elu snorts. She reaches for a little toy from her satchel, something that Taliesen crafted for the Alienage kids.

A metal small pulley controlled fox, lifeless with it’s many levers running through it. Until the mage pressed the touch of mana onto the toy, tiny eyes gain a shimmering blue glow and the legs straighten themselves. Readying into a pounce to travel elsewhere.

“Tag.” She declares, letting the contraption free for the kids to follow, giggling in the chase for their shining new toy.

“I never quite imagine you being so good with kids.”

Eludysia simply raises a brow at the familiar comfort of the mellowed voice.

“I didn’t start my life working for the Iron Bull.”

“I just never saw it in you." Lex takes a seat next to his partner. "Or atleast you've never told me about wanting them."

"I never gave it much thought." Eludysia grins at Lex. "I don’t run into many Dalish folk after I left my clan."

“You still feel the same way?” Lex raises an attentive brow.

“Not so much anymore.” Eludysia pulls back strands of hair with a finger. “I got someone who I might consider kids with.”

Lex softly snorts, her sentiment was mutually felt even if their lives wasn’t an ideal one to have a family.

“What do think of the Vhenadahl?” Eludysia points at the tree they’re seated in front of.

Lex looks up, empty of any feeling for the tree except for being like minded with Sera and wanting more apples on it.

“What of it?”

“The elves here see it as an important piece of their culture.” Elu’s finger traces over fingers over the markings on the tree, the ongoing story of the elves here now. “The hahren tells her stories her stories here in front of it. Every elf born here has stared up at this tree.”

“Well. Sera’s right, it needs more apples.” Lex responds, irreverent with a lopsided smirk.

“You can’t be so vapid about this…” Eludysia furrows her brows. “The Vhenadahl means as much to the culture of Alienage Elves as vallaslin mean to our clan. We were lore keepers for our People.”

Emphasis on their people.

“The elves here are their own people. Why should I have an opinion on them?” Lex shrugs his shoulders, and letting his head rest on his palm.

“We came from the same nation, our lives weren’t always so separated. What their customs are, were once our own too.” Eludysia has slow blinks for Lex, still studying her partner’s reactions.

Sighing, the warrior mage admits there is a small bit of defeat in him. Letting more of a life that he couldn’t cling onto, slip away from him.

“It hasn’t been something I’ve thought about, it’s been years since I apprenticed for Deshanna.” He tells, letting his shoulders slump further down.

The Chargers mage turns away her eyes, even without words for the sentiment, she did search for the same path home as Lex did.

“I… can see your reasoning there.”

“What do you see in the Vhenadahl?” Lex gathers back strength within himself, directing wide eyed curiosity to Elu.

“I suppose there’s beauty to having a home for their selves, that I’ve only now considered. Even with how much the city elves worry about the impermanence in an Alienage.” Her fingers trace the lines of the branches, wondering what the tree has seen from up high.

“I think I’m understanding what you see in the tree.” Nodding, Lex brings Eludysia’s legs over his shoulders.

“What are you doing?” Elu is shaken for a moment when she gets grabbed.

“Come one. Get on my shoulders.” Lex chuckles as he pulls Elu upright above himself. “You’ll be able to see more of the Alienage.”

It takes a moment for Eludysia to balance herself. Then from up there she can look over the many elves who now call Wycome, home. Dalish elves, still strangers to her, helping the city elves improve their homes. Mages training and using their abilities to close leaking roofs of the many ill maintained house. There is no division amongst the elves here, everyone too focused on making their new home.

Eludysia smiles at a sight that she seldom thought would happen. “This is worth us traveling here.”

[felassan]

What, then, of the lauded Herald of Andraste? Her origins are as steeped in folktale as the deeds she wrought during the war. In the wake of the Elder One’s defeat, a thousand and one nobles from all corners of Thedas streamed to the fortress of Skyhold in hope of begging her favor. In the art world, ever a mirror image of our waking reality, the accompanying explosion was predictable; her image took it by storm, and to have such a piece in your collection became the vogue for well-to-do households across Orlais. The three I have arranged herein for the student’s consideration are some of the most sought-after examples.

The first is something of an outlier. Reportedly created by the dreaded Wolf himself, it was unearthed by Inquisition agents upon ransacking the scant possessions he had left behind, concealed in a sheaf of papers in his study. Though the medium is not plaster, the style itself is undeniably reminiscent of the now-famed elven frescoes adorning the walls in Skyhold’s rotunda. See how fondly he has captured the sharp angles of her face, the attention paid in every line. A romantic might fancy it a glimpse or window into another world to which most are not privy - contemplative, lonely, wistful - with spirits whispering in the paint. The background is indistinct - it is her features that the artist sees with utmost certainty and clarity, above all else. Curious that he chose to depict his subject prior to the mysterious vanishment of her elven markings, is it not? The meaning behind this decision is currently debated more hotly in scholarly circles than the exact year of Andraste’s birth.

Of the second, it must be noted that this is a classical masterwork that will withstand ages. Commissioned by an anonymous patron of the arts, it is currently on loan from the University of Orlais to Empress Celene, displayed in the gallery at the Winter Palace. That the painstakingly rendered likeness of an elf is now displayed so in Halamshiral, the ancestral home of their people, is a bittersweet irony lamented by none other than Divine Victoria herself in the days after she ascended the Sunburst Throne. The gilt frame compliments the Herald’s flaxen hair, particularly against the backdrop of the healed sky, but more than that, in her expression can be seen her talent for careful diplomacy. Ines Arancia identified the featured blooms as a rare variant of embrium, which counts itself a member of the orchid family. One would posit that here the artist was drawing a parallel between both the exceptional beauty and healing properties of embrium and those attributes of the Inquisitor herself. Their inclusion is also said to be an allusion to “the nobility of flowers”, a line heard in no less than three of the bard songs that have been composed about the Herald thus far.

The final piece is a portrait that was ordered in the fluid style popular among Antivan nobility. Here, the Herald’s countenance is such that she is both curious and wilful in equal measure. The dominant tones are red and green, hues which hark to her preferred manner of dress. A skilled observer shall doubtless notice a certain hurried quality in the brushstrokes; of the painting’s specifications, I am reliably informed that Lady Josephine Montilyet changed her mind on no less than three occasions during the dialogue process with the artist, wishing as she did to oversee the creation of a work which suitably paid tribute to the Inquisitor. Purportedly the Lady was so pleased with the final result that she parted with an additional full fifth of its worth on top of the price originally agreed (along with an eloquently-penned apology and enclosed box of choice Orlesian frilly cakes). The student might look upon this portrait and be critical of its subsequent feel, which has been described as incomplete. However, in private parlors and drawing rooms across the south, this aspect is held up as reflecting the fact that for the elven woman who shook Thedas, and saved all among us from the sky’s anger, hers is a tale yet unfinished.

-- An excerpt from The Dragon Age: Commentaries on Contemporary Art, Volume III by Arnaude-Pierre de Verley

SURPRISE!! @roseategales ✨

We worked together in secret to make and put this together for you of your OC, the lovely Eludysia Adhlea Lavellan.  🎨 📖  We hope you like it and that it does ‘dysia justice :)

----------

[credits: art piece 1 @honeypeabrain, art piece 2 @resjade, art piece 3 @incaensor, codex entry @felassan]

[iimmcrtalis-archive]

DA verse

a summary post of all my active muses verse(s) in dragon age because i’m f EELING IT BOYS. except terry for rn bc it’ll be Hard. one day. gonna try and go in a from least knowledge bout their verse to extensive knowledge of ‘em so. ayy

this is a pretty long post i apologize to those on mobile!!

Nova; mage(???), human ( ? ), possibly a distant noble

probably a mage? because blue space magic is her jam. though she’s actually more of a combat & tech. she was like well rounded in that regard so i’m considering iunno??? battlemage maybe w/ lockpicking who knows. she’s a sneaky mage that can stab u real good.

would probably also assume she’s pretty good as inquisitor because she would treat it as her role and thing she still has to bare and takes it seriously. like nova is no nonsense as inquisitor but absolute nonsense when she’s not playing that role lmao. 

Morgan; mage?? human af ye. defo a noble blood t BH. 

i unno man. iunno. is he a mage? yeah probably. would he be a legit battlemage + arcane warrior? probably. Would i say he uses a real sword? pro b ab ly. like listen he’s a beefy mage who wears normal armor and probably looks like a fckn non mage but bOOM SUDDENLY LIGHTNING FROM HIS HAND W H AT 

iunno he’s a mage and he’s aggressive as FUCKKKK. aggro as fuck. probably sides withhh iunno both he’d want both and think it’s wasted potential to only have one lmao. iunno he’s hard to figure out man. he’d ultimately probably be like templars because actual ppl who know how to fight. but also wouldn’t wanna condemn the mageS??? so who knows who knows. 

anyways he probably likes blackwall and the iron bull and viv and cass?? and just ye. chills w/ them a lot probably. probably would flirt w/ cass tho god. butw/e no he’s uhhhh real aggressive as a fckn inquisitor like every body getting beheaded. except a few probably.. he would probably make uh... whats his name... tranquil tbh. worse fate than death that yes he would wish on his enemies bc otherwise they get what they want & too risky otherwise. 

Igne; old af elf, probably an assassin combo w/ magic??

like listen if you tell me that they can’t be both ima fckn punt u bc really that’s dumb. defeats the point of multiclassing in the fantasy genre of g am es. anyways really tho they’re old. old as balls. probably? iunno. probably served like... andruil for a while or somethin! got a lil lil corrupted but didn’t want it and wanted freedom so they were like FUCK THIS SHIT IM OUTTIE 

how’d they live? no idea. not a single clue bc i just don’t know jackshit bout ancient elf shit anymore (when did i ever) but honestly. it’s probably a thing right? old af elves everywhere. but no no they’d probably even annoy sera bc like they’re literally?? nonsense. violent af nonsense. hanging off a roof with a fckn potato in their mouth & lookin ready to murder. 

it’s a look™  but nah thinkin that u hhh corruption shit is probably what gave them a red eye ayyy

inquisitor igne is like dagger eyes at solas but doesn’t snitch on him ever not even once. she’s got his back man. she’d be like cool i’ll plaY BOTH SIDES SUre. sure. no mercy run on ppl tho god 

EVELYN / ISENE; old af elf. got that fckn combo again

it’s a theme really, combo classes. all my muses? multiclassed fuckers.  for a detailed everything, please refer to her old blog bc this is gonna be a stupid summary of it so ayyy.

old as dicks dude. lost her arm in the rebellion, against the rebellion. served elgar’nan because he fits her the most tbh. still sort of serves him i guess. like if he showed up she wouldn’t hesitate to follow his orders is what i mean here. otherwise she keeps up the facade of being a former dalish elf mercenary. and definitely doesn’t shy away from admitting she’s got magic. never calls herself a mage because  like lmao 

she has a fckn big ol sword she carries around one handed? and if ur like UR JUST A MAGE she’s gonna use said big ol sword to chop ur head off. not a fan of modern mages tho lmao. at all. like not a lot of sympathy for them. but she would also just kick a circles door in and be like cool leave gtfo you weaklin lil fucks jfc go learn somethin. 

would fight solas in a denny’s parking lot at 2am if she knew jack shit. but she really doesn’t so she’s like ur weird and i dont trust you  butyeah lm ao

Eludysia; ngl i unno if she’s old old but she’s Old. Old seer lady. 

honestly i think she’s not gonna have much of a da verse in general but it exists enough that i feel like i should cover it here. but essentially she’s an old elf seer in rivain. leader of a port side town. No chantry or qunari around its a lot of elves tho. refugees and what not from kirkwall and stuff. 

i unno if she’s an ancient elf but i know she’s old. like real old. so who knows

if she is ancient she probably woulda been like a priestess to ?? falon’din or dirthamen??? because seer shit but like even in a current state she’s fairly devoted to on e o f them or both? probably both lmao. so it’s w/e. 

she’s the former keeper of the clan revas got sent to, which is where revas’ mom is also from and how she gets to that clan. but she was keeper of the clan for like.. a long time like a long time. like that bald fuck from da:o  but without plaguing people with a curse. iunno how she did it but magic and better than that shit. 

more important if revas is inquisitor because lmao she’d probably be like.. welp im gonna come guide you?? probably.   shit she’s probably like emerald knights old tho shit but no fuckin!!! probably comes to be an advisor. 

i think if u go revas as commander/advisor or inquisitor in a thread eludysia’s probs gonna show up and be like sup  but otherwise she’s mainly just a contact in rivain for info and resources!! no special quest or anything u can just contact her for stuff. 

Warren; half-elf, half-qunari. big man w/ a bow.

&& a thick af accent let’s be real here. 

i haven’t made a post about his shit yet so! this one might be a lil longer!! 

grew up in/around starkhaven. in an alienage somewhere really! but he’s got that starkhaven accent. probably just fumbled his way there because honestly he got fucking ditched by his people and has no idea who his parents are lmao. just knows his mom died during child birth and he was fuckin cursed essentially via his?? clan or something. that qunari bit of him is real obvious as his horns grew out and probably had a harsh life in an alienage. 

because he’s not an elf. but he’s not human. and he’s not a qunari. so he’s just. him. 

eventually falls in with some ppl who teach him to steal. so he does a lot and then gets busted and they fckn break his horns off and chop his ears!!! and throw him the fuck out. as you do. but they taught him to use a bow so he’s good with that. and knives. good at close quarters and a long range.

gets better with a bow. real top knotch stuff. ends up in a mercenary crew (same one as qunari inquisitor? probably.) enjoys his merc lifestyle ya know has a good time killin shit 

anyways. companion warren is p much like ‘Strength & force.’ because he has no tact and doesn’t care about politics. like one day i’ll have his approval / disapproval shit. but today is not that day.

but the same applies to his inquisitor shit. he’s fucking brutal as an inquisitor. cares about the little people but FUCK the rich. takes the well for himself ( tho if i would also say revas is there bc i can and she’d take it) but generally just!! give him power and let him kill shit!! that’s all he cares about. tho he wouldn’t kill samson or calpernia bc he doesn’t see them as enemies or villains truly? just pawns in a big scheme and he’d probably stare corypheus in the face and be like get fucked you saggy fuck 

he’s great, great guy. 

Revas: Keeper. Dreamer. Dalish elf. 

literally like most people know Revas’ Dragon Age basics!! but if you don’t i’ll just direct you to her old blog, so you know what’s up.  i’ll put it into a summary the best i can tho! 

Backstory: short and simple? #fucked.  expanded? she was born to the lavellan clan to one of the head hunters & warriors. ended up having magic so she was sort of training to become second, or first, till her moms old clan was like hey we need a new first so uhhhh help us out. and they traded some goods and revas went on her way. ended up being a fucked up situation where the previous first was murdered by two clanmates who eventually tried ( and did) murder revas but she came back bc lmao spirit help & ended up killing them and leaving for her actions.

Dragon Age: Awakening:  full page about it Takes place shortly after this event happened. she lived on her own for awhile, protecting people as much as she could from darkspawn during the blight. ends up going to the wardens because someone doesn’t appreciate her help since she’s a Mage.     The choices made by the warden in regards to her effect how she becomes a warden and the rest of the timeline. Sort of a branch off feel. highly recommend taking a look at the page and also this post. 

DA 2:  If not in the Awakening verse, Revas travels around to the clans. becoming a traveling keeper & helping the clans the best she can. As well as finding ruins and exploring man memories from lost objects. Eventually finds her way to Kirkwall to actually speak with Merrill. But some other shenanigans play out and some stuff goes down. Ends up helping in the fight at the end and leaving with Zevran ( @allurfavesrqueer‘s zevran only lmao. )

DA:I     Companion: Shows up in fereldan with some tree peeps. gets some elvhen shit. offers her services to the inquisition bc that’s what her spirit told her to do. and ya know real fucky. shares some approvals as solas but usually has some pretty contrasting opinions on things! Will defo take on the role of like older sibling or sibling figure with the inquisitor if they’re close enough. Be kind to elves & mages and you’re good.  ( also she’s an option to take the well if the inquisitor doesn’t want it) 

   Advisor: Takes up an offer by the inquistor to become an advisor which is more or less her using her network with the elves around the countries to do certain objectives and what not. acts a bit like an ambassador for the elves & mages in the meetings to give them a voice and remind the human board of trusteeeess that they’re fucking not the only ones around :)) 

  Commander: Mainly with @desiderrium‘s Cullen. Basically Revas takes over for Cullen? at his request kinda because she’s like what the fuck you’re whAT. and gets pissed at everyone else for keeping him on when he’s Not Okay even if she’d rather kick his teeth in 99% of the time. why revas take over? because she’s actually p fuckin qualified, gestures vaguely towards being a first and the advisor au. like she knows how to lead ppl so ayy. 

  Inquisitor: Same ish backstory happens except her parents died to the blight and she left the clan for the other and ye same shit happens. but the clans ask her to go check shit out for them and shes like of course and gets caught up in the mess so. 

ALRIGHTY !! 

so that got long but yea!! hopefully this is a more condensed version of stuff and good for reference later. 

[suledxn-blog]

FAMILY; 

Fenmyelan “Shala”  Lavellan: Mother, Alive. ( fc: Jada Pinkett Smith )

     About; 

44 years old; Head warrior & Guardian of Clan Lavellan.

  Fenmyelan is everything one might hope for — As a warrior. Where concerns of family lie, she is vague and at best hardly there. For a time, she spent hours with her daughter. Teaching her how to wield a sword & shield, knowing she was too young and small for a sword as large as her own. Yet for the most part, she spends her time as guardian of the camp and clan. But she loves her daughter, and is proud of her. Even if she doesn’t know what became of her. Her child made a sacrifice for the clan — Something honorable. And she respects that.

           She is quiet till she fights. Voice booming, and growls roaring. She is a fierce fighter, and will defend her clan to the death. 

      Does not die with the Clan, should they be destroyed, due to her husband saving her.

Borean Lavellan; Father, Alive ( fc: Tahmoh Penikett )

   About;

37 years old; One of the mentors for Scouts of Clan Lavellan.

   There’s a balance to the rigid, dutiful woman that is his wife & he is it completely. He was never close to his daughter, being a mentor and scout for the clan made it hard. But he was always there for his family. Always there for everyone. He taught her how to hold a dagger, and to use a bow. He knew she’d be good at it, if she wanted to be. He didn’t know how to help her with magic, he tried sometimes. To let her know she shouldn’t be scared of her gift. Though, watching his only child leave was hard, even if it helped her learn her abilities. He misses her a great deal. There’s days he watches the forest, hoping to see her come home. 

          When he was younger, he was referred to as Banal’ras — Shadow. When he stopped being a hunter, and focused on scouting out areas for them to camp, the nickname died down. There are still a few who call him that, as he is still just a shadow unless he wants to be seen. 

                  Does not die in the destruction of the clan, instead saves as many as he can as he knows the area more than most. He & Fenmyelan both become Agents of the Inquisition, should the Inquisitor speak with Revas about the clan after its destruction. 

Eludysia; Grandmother, Alive (fc: Angela Bassett)

About;

Unknown; Witch & Seer in Afsaana, Rivain.

   Some say she’s ancient, as old as the ruins of Arlathan. Other’s say she can’t be older than a few decades. No one really knows. Not even her sweet daughter. 

  Before she was a seer in Rivain, she was the Keeper of Clan Feratherin. The clan prospered under her guidance, traveling far and wide to bring others into their fold. She poured her heart into guiding every mage that came to her. It was her efforts that propelled the clan into one of the largest of them. They were happy, for a time when they settled in Rivain. But she drifted time to time. Her First being left in charge in her absence. They rumored that she was spending time with a Qunari. Others told that she was securing their place within Rivain. 

   It did not take long for the truth to come out. She had been seeing a Qunari, bearing their child, and setting the Clan into an outrage. Yet, no one dared challenge her position as Keeper. Soon, the clan settled. Looking upon the child with disdain from some, admiration from others. 

But soon. Soon, the child had grown. She was tall and strong. She could move mountains, and slayed those that dared approach the clan with poor intentions. Of course, Eludysia had seen this. She knew the fate of her child, the possibilities that stretched before her. She was not surprised when another elf whisked her away. 

   It was then that her First challenged her, spitting on all she taught him. He was so eager to take it from her, claiming that she dealt with demons. Turning some against her. So she left them, a laugh echoing as she shut those who challenged her away. 

   Now, she leads those that stayed. She leads their whole town with the help of others. Giving guidance to those that seek it. Seeing the world and all the paths spun along it. Including her dear Granddaughter & just how she would tangle with her. 

If asked about, Revas will offer to contact her to be a resource within Rivain.

Notable Mention: 

   Three Unknown Children scattered around Thedas:          A four year old boy in the Free Marches.          A two year old girl in Fereldan.         A six year old child in Kirkwall.

[roseategales]

“me softly, blue glow 2 match solas, blUE GLOW 2 MA” — @tzedekart

_____________________________

up until now, eludysia’s da4 look has been a nebulous, ever-difficult to imagine concept. the only things i knew for sure were that she’d have an ironbark-lyrium prosthetic, her colour palette, and that she’d look freer and more discrete while retaining her heritage and experiences post-inquisition. commissioning and working with dorian / tzedekart to help me find a concrete design was the best decision i could've made. thanks for the artwork, and for the new hc that ‘dysia’s eyes show her use of magic years after she drinks from the well, love.

[roseategales]

obsessed with the idea that if solas ends up working with the inquisitor in da4, he goes to see how ‘dysia is. then after she screams and cries, he quietly takes her into his arms and she says she ‘won’t ask (him to stay)’ bc she’s tired and he says ‘you have no need to.’

[roseategales]

@thebookworm0001‘s ellana, solas, and ‘dysia being together as a throuple is probably my new favourite obsession. i had to commission a piece for them. thank you, @mespyria-illustrations, for making it happen. <3

[roseategales]

my only one / my kingdom come undone / my broken drum / you have beaten my heart / don't want no other shade of blue but you / no other sadness in the world would do.

[roseategales]

“Are you not cold, vhenan?”

“How can I be cold, with your arms around me?”

a while back, i commissioned @anka-skier to draw solas and eludysia (ft. the robe from this fic.) i could not be happier with the final product. thank you, ana. <3

[roseategales]

elvhenan, in another world — ellana, solas, & eludysia. (with @thebookworm0001​.)

[roseategales]

VORACITY — ONE-SHOT.

fic rating: explicit. | categories: fluff, hurt/comfort, smut. | pairing: solavellan. | content warnings: biting and scratching as kinks, discussions of dubious consent. | word count: 2.3K. | alternate link: ao3.

author’s note: the smut in this fic mostly functions in the background and in dialogue, but, although it’s described in detail, is not the focal point. the fic was written to focus mainly on the discussion of motivation, consent, aftercare, and the dynamic between solas and my lavellan, who are in an established and loving relationship by the point that this fic happens in. thank you to @thebookworm0001 and @jarakrisafis for beta’ing. <3

_____________________________

“I can heal these.”

Cooled with a spell at the ready, Solas’ fingertips hover over her hip, where an imprint of his earlier grip on her is darkening to bruises. It’s not the only wine-red patch. There’s a counterpart on her other side; and an irregular trail of marks in the shape of his mouth, starting from her throat, wandering down to her breasts, and ending below her ribs. In the morning, their contrast on her skin will be deeper, and will appear harsher than they are in daylight’s emphasis. She’ll have to be grateful Josephine ordered so many high-collared tunics for her in spite of her protests. Secretly. Or her Chief Ambassador may fuss even more. But Eludysia doesn’t think those things warrant her worries. Nor should they warrant Solas’. Easily concealed displays of a night enjoyed with her dearly missed lover? Hardly worth the trouble, when their lives are full of worries as things are.

“So can I,” she reminds him. She curls closer to his side. “Leave it. I don’t mind them,” she says. If anything, they serve as a reminder that there are some things of Eludysia she can keep guarded. For her love. For herself. Apart from Herald and Inquisitor.

Solas hesitates for a moment, the line of his mouth severe, eyes searching hers in the shadows cast by the dim firelight. “Ma nuvenin,” he says eventually, when she voices nothing more. The spell is returned to the streams of the Fade, and he arranges the quilt to cover her body and his.

She should know him better by now, however. The way she’s learning to know the lean grace of his form, the sharp angles of his features, the specific timbre of his voice. His acquiescence to her is conflict with himself. She has her dismaying confirmation as he lays back down to face her and brush her hair behind her ear, without a kiss to her forehead or her lips. Without holding her. He tries a smile, but it’s as withdrawn as he is. Like he doesn’t dare to allow himself her closeness, his mind lost to rumination.

There’s something behind his offers to clean her up and heal her love bites.

“You’re upset,” she says, as both a statement and a question.

“Do I appear to be?” Solas asks. It’s tempting to interpret his lilt and raised brow as amused surprise, and not concern. A simple yes or no would’ve made it easier to pursue the subject. She wouldn’t feel like she’s walking on a thin line, caught between potentially overstepping his boundaries again or never knowing the reason for his reservation with her.

Her desire to know wins.

“You do appear to be,” she tells him. “You’re distancing yourself and dodging my question.”

“I do not wish to concern you, vhenan. Moreover, you must be tired after your journey from Ferelden, and I have stolen enough of your time and energy. You should sleep.” He winds his arm around her, palm flat on her spine. His thumb strokes her skin. If the gesture is meant to soothe her, it has the opposite effect.

“I’ll toss and turn the whole night if you won’t tell me what’s wrong.”

Eludysia is aware of the manipulative undertone to her words. Though she is being truthful and her intentions are genuine, she could have let this go. Didn’t he say he would work on trusting her? She could have admitted that she is tired, and asked if he would discuss things with her in the morning. She could have asked if he’d help her sleep with a spell. Left him to mull things over on his own in the Fade. Perhaps he’d feel better if she did. But then, she doesn’t feel it’s a good idea to leave the conversation here. It is just as likely that he’d continue to avoid the subject and she would be no closer to the explanation for his mood’s sudden shift. She was so happy to be able to see him and be held by him again. She counted down the days, ached to have him all over her at night. Her hand and mere recollections of him between her legs brought poor relief. She thought he ached similarly and was equally thrilled for her return. Now...

Solas removes his arm from her. He rubs his face, as though he was the one who’d spent a week in talks with the Ferelden crown and nobility on a mutual effort to expunge the Venatori. For a moment, she braces herself for him to evade her or leave again. She wouldn’t blame him. But he doesn’t. When he drops his hand, his expression is as composed as a still pool.

“All right,” he says quietly. “I fear I should not have taken you in the manner I did. I was reckless. Unthinking. I could’ve caused you worse harm.” He places two fingers under the mark at her throat, examining her. As if he waits for her to flinch away from him. She remains at his side, her breathing steady. “My actions were regrettable. I apologise.”

“You apologise,” she repeats, incredulous. Reckless. Unthinking. Harm. She turns each word, each meaning over. Tries to frame tonight’s sex in the light of them. She can see how reckless could be applicable. But unthinking? Harm? And if his actions were regrettable, what would he call hers? Who initiated what past the first kiss is a bit difficult to distinguish. Neither of them could get their clothes off quick enough, neither seemed like they could bear another second without the other’s touch. But this much is clear: She was exhilarated by the voracity of Solas’ desire. She encouraged every move he made. Fenhedhis, his back must’ve stung from her nails sinking into his flesh. He had murmured, “abelas,” when she gasped at how hard he bit her throat, and she bid him to do it harder.

He’d paused, looked up at her. His pupils were dilated, eyes dark as the Void. Did they dance in the firelight or did she imagine it? “Are you certain?” He asked.

She couldn’t help but arch into him. “Yes! Please!”

Eludysia’s worry heightens into alarm.

“Solas…” She says slowly, fearing where she next treads. “Was the sex tonight pleasurable for you?”

His brows crease. “That is besides the point.”

“No, it isn’t.” She winces. Her pitch is higher, shakier than she intended it to be.

He falls silent. A shadow passes over his face. “It… was. Yes.”

She has little cause to assume he’s lying. In all the time she has known him, Solas has proven to highly value truth and deplore falsehoods. He has and will avoid and obfuscate if he sees fit. Mostly out of caution. But he would never lie. Still, she wants to be certain. “Every second of it?”

“I would not have gone as far as I did if it were otherwise,” he says.

“Then why are you apologising? If it was pleasurable for both of us, I don’t see a problem.”

“What is pleasurable and what is beneficial is not mutually exclusive, vhenan.” Though he is gentle as he explains, he points the differentiation out as if it’s obvious. “We have not been apart for quite some time, and your trip to Ferelden was the first since we started having sex. It was like starving in the winter after eating of a summer harvest. We were driven by need and desire. That combination can be overpowering for anyone, making them desperate to be satisfied. I wanted nothing more than to have you, to make you cry out and come apart trembling in my hands as I slaked my lust.” He cards his fingers through her hair. Somehow, his touch underlines his description of what transpired, intimate yet distant. She’d wonder at how paradoxical he can be if she wasn’t familiar with his idiosyncrasies.

He continues, “I knew I had you riled. I asked for your consent not purely for your sake, but to permit myself indulgence. Even if you were not hurt or did not feel mistreated in the moment… I would never want a chance of that happening.” His eyes flit past her, like he sees something she can’t. A scene where she’s pushing him away, covered in bruises, feeling used, her trust broken? It vanishes as soon as it appears, and his gaze settles back onto her face. “Certainly not in bed.”

She considers what he has said. Her cheeks burn and her eyes sting. She catches his hand mid-stroke in her hair, and brings it to her lips, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his knuckles. Then she props up her pillow and sits, arranging and clutching the quilt tightly around her body. Solas watches her, questioning. As she cannot conceal the marks at her throat and the tops of her breasts from his view, she hopes her hair and the shadows fall in the appropriate places.

“Vhenan?” He probes.

Eludysia Adhlea Lavellan, you are a fool. Desiring is easy. Asking for explanations is easy. Receiving and examining them, and giving your own in turn—that’s the hard part.

“You’re the first person to care so much for me,” she says. A lump forms in her throat. She swallows, and glances at the sparks rising off the flames. Takes a breath to compose herself. “Growing up Dalish, sex was taught to me as a matter of practicality. We were given lessons on our bodies, taught how to protect ourselves, instructed through common knowledge and preserved texts and folktales, with the expectation of marriage and raising children one day. I’ve told you about my youth, so you know I was… Rather curious and rebellious.”

“As you’re still inclined to be.”

Solas’ wry note earns a nervous laugh from her. “You have a point. Well, I didn’t live in a village. I didn’t have a house with four walls and various rooms, let alone a castle, or stay anywhere long enough to figure out where there were good hiding spots. If I found someone to my liking, we had to be quick and discreet. That often meant we were rough. I’ve been bitten, swatted, I’ve had my hair pulled, and I’ve done the same to others—and there wasn’t time to embrace or curl up together or talk in bed like this.” Not even with Dhea. The thought is tinged with some regret. Not for what could have been. For what was. They were never right as a couple, but a few of the memories they made together might have been happier, had less insecurity and shame. Before Solas, she had no idea that sex could be so tender, so achingly sweet. She didn’t know someone could draw six, seven orgasms a night from her with the softest of touches. Nor what it would be like to be taken care of and then fall asleep in his arms afterwards. Being with him, in Skyhold and on their travels, has been a privilege she never envisioned for herself.

“I’m not telling you any of this to upset you further,” she hastens to add as his eyes widen. “But for you to understand: I like rough sex. I wouldn’t have sought it out or encouraged you if I didn’t. My only worry…” She swallows again. “Is that I’m mistreating you.”

He sits upright in an instant, closing the gap between them. “No, no. Nothing of the sort, vhenan.”

“You’ve done nothing but give into me, disregarding your own discomfort the entire night.”

“Would I not speak plainly if you had wronged me? My discomfort was caused by my guilt towards you. The actions I took were to assuage it.” He shakes his head at her. “You underestimate the extent of my selfishness.”

“Well, it’s not like I haven’t been selfish either.” Isn’t that how they ended up here? Mutual selfishness? She reaches for him with her free hand. He takes it, and she smiles faintly at their fingers interlacing together. “Heal the bruises if you like. I won’t complain.”

He hums, gently pushing her hair off her shoulders and lowering the quilt to her thighs. His fingers brush the edge of the mark at her throat. She tilts her chin up and straightens her posture for him. But he pauses. “First, answer this for me: Is there a reason you refused initially? You were fine with me fetching the cloth and wiping you.”

She shrugs. “Outside of this room, I’m the Herald and Inquisitor. People don’t see me. Not truly. They see whatever gives them faith, hope, or fear. You don’t. When I’m with you, I remember I’m more.” Gods, she sounds like Cole. Her nose scrunches. “I suppose the love bites and bruises just make that notion more tangible, odd as it sounds aloud.”

“On the contrary, it sounds like you’re clinging to your personhood however you can.”

Of course Solas would be the one to understand.

Eludysia cups his cheek and leans against his forehead. Her smile widens as his hand slides around the nape of her neck. “Maybe I don’t need them. Maybe it’s enough that you’re by my side.”

He chuckles, brushing his lips to hers. “I will be glad to remind you of the woman you are as often as you wish,” he murmurs.

Heat pangs in her belly at his words’ suggestiveness. “Good. Because if you’re up for another round…”

He pulls away, expression darkening. She opens her mouth to speak but all that comes out is a squeal as she is suddenly on her back, the mattress bouncing underneath, his body atop hers.

“It’ll be easier to heal everything with a single spell later,” he explains before she can ask. He pins her wrists above her head. She feels his cock hardening at her thigh. “Is this all right?”

She laughs, leaning up to drag her teeth over his lower lip. “Perfect,” she says.

The grin he gives is wolfish.

[roseategales]

eludysia lavellan + hairstyles throughout the inquisition era.

[roseategales]

FEN’HAREL ENANSAL — ONE-SHOT.

fic rating: teen. | categories: fluff, post-da4 speculation, post-da4 au. | pairing: solavellan. | content warnings: none. | word count: 421.

inspired by a conversation with @honeypeabrain, who said: maybe they snuggle up together come nighttime and if it rains he shelters her in his floof? 👉👈🥺

_____________________________

When Eludysia was a child, she would watch Keeper Deshanna and her clan’s hahrens erect Fen’Harel’s statue and shrine. She remembers asking one day, at four or five years of age, why he was always kept outside the camp. He was bigger than she was, and as far as she could understand, he had something to do with the absence of the Elven gods. But it didn’t seem right to lug him around only to leave him to the dangers of the elements. Thunder roiled overhead. She’d jumped, and thought she saw bears or bandits under the shadows of the woods.

“He’s all alone. Won’t he be upset?” She’d said to Deshanna.

Deshanna told her, “Fen’Harel is known as He Who Hunts Alone for a reason, da’len. It’s who he is.”

Droplets of rain had started to fall. Unsatisfied, Eludysia pressed, “What if something happens to him?”

“He’ll ward off the evil with his trickery. He is a god, you need not worry,” Deshanna said, and ushered her to where her mamae held a tent’s flap open.

That was the end of the conversation. But Eludysia looked back over her shoulder, and saw how the hahrens’ hands and lips trembled as they laid stones and incense. She had the sense Deshanna’s words simplified and obscured the truth of the matter. And when she grew older and asked her papae, she’d learn that she was right to have that sense. The Dalish respected and revered Fen’Harel for his cunning wiles, and they believed he would guard their camps if they made satisfactory offerings—yet they also feared him, and believed him mad, enough to pray he would not turn his gaze towards them.

She wishes her clan could’ve met him. That they could’ve seen the complicated truth of him.

Last night’s rain has finally stopped. The grass and trees shine with the remnants. A few drops glide like gems off the branches, and the barrier cast by Solas gently hums. She watches the steady rise and fall of his breathing. He’d curled his tail around her like a blanket sometime during the night. Nestled under the shelter of his fur, and deliciously warm, she feels like she’s four again, easily swallowed by the size of his lupine form. It’s strange. After all he’s done, after all she knows about him, she should fear him—and maybe some small part of her does, in a different way—but she smiles and combs her fingers through his tail, comforted that his presence will guard her, and hers him.