#leliana x female inquisitor

[fenharelsfang]

"I don't think I'm ready for this."

The Winter Palace loomed over the Inquisition agents as they stepped through the wrought-iron gate into the front gardens, a colossal silhouette against the twilit sky, crowned in gold and glittering with the setting sun. The soft yellow light of ornate lamp posts dotted the landscape like stars in the night. Violets and lilies adorned bushes in marble planters, their sweet fragrance permeating the air. A large fountain sat in an alcove at the back of the gardens, two sets of stairs curving up to the entrance of the palace proper. Cool, crystal clear water flowed gently over a circle of golden winged lions.

"It's too late to back out now, Inquisitor,” said Josephine, ambassador of the Inquisition. She wore an off-shoulder golden bouffant dress accentuated with embroidered flowers and vines. Her raven-colored hair, usually kept in a low-hanging bun, was now free and draped over one shoulder. She wore a delicate golden amulet adorned with a ruby in its center. Gold eyeliner complimented her hazel eyes.

“Do stop slouching, please,” she continued as she scrutinized the Inquisitor’s appearance. “How you present yourself is a matter of life and death when it comes to the Game. It is no simple matter of etiquette and protocol. Every word, every gesture is measured and evaluated for weakness. Even more so when we approach the court. The Inquisition must not show weakness or they will eat us alive."

Ellana Lavellan, the Inquisitor currently being berated by her diplomatic advisor for her posture, straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. None of what Josephine said made her feel any better about the situation, though.

"Correction: I know I am not ready for this."

Ellana was Dalish! They didn't go to fancy balls or dress in the latest human fashion. She didn't even own a dress! What she wore now was entirely too thin and fragile to survive a day in the forest. However, Josephine insisted she look the part of a proper Lady. Elves had an ethereal beauty to them and it needed to be flaunted if they were to impress Empress Celene. Ellana felt that would be easy, considering Celene used to have an elven lover, but Josephine's fretting over the downfall of the Inquisition's reputation would not abate.

Now, Ellana stood before her fellow agents in a white silk gown, cinched at the waist by a golden brooch with the Inquisition symbol etched into it. The gown had a plunging neckline, framed by a high collar that was tied with golden string at the collarbone. It was simple, but the added golden embellishments gave it an air of elegance that was hard to deny. With her light blonde hair woven into an intricate updo and accentuated by a golden winged circlet, she was the epitome of what the Herald of Andraste should look like.

... Aside from the pointed ears and the face tattoos honoring a goddess who was not the Maker.

As they were actually here in the Winter Palace to prevent an assassination, Ellana had alterations made to the dress. The skirt could be peeled off, revealing leggings underneath that would allow her to move without exhibiting her undergarments for all to see. The skirt was also long enough that it hid her feet. They sported bottomless sandals rather than the jeweled slippers that Josephine wanted her to wear. Ellana needed to feel the ground underneath her feet. Elemental magic was her specialty and shoes got in the way of channeling the energy of the earth.

"Smile, Inquisitor. Eyes are upon us," Leliana encouraged. Her smile, relaxed and confident, was entirely uncharacteristic of the usually cold and deadly demeanor of the spymaster. She almost looked at home among the elite of Orlais and Ellana had to remind herself that this was all a façade.

The Inquisitor flashed a smile at passing nobles that didn’t quite reach her emerald eyes due to her growing anxiety. Leliana’s own smile faltered and she silently shook her head to get Ellana to stop.

"Honestly, you aren't doing yourself any favors with the company you've decided to bring with you," Josephine muttered under her breath, not paying the slightest bit of attention to the Inquisitor’s struggle. The Antivan glanced behind them to take in their entourage. Everyone was dressed in fine red velvet suits trimmed in gold with blue sashes extending across their chests and wrapping around their waists. At least they were uniform in that regard.

Ellana tilted her head at the ambassador. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, an apostate elf? A Qunari spy? A spirit boy? Dorian at least has some exposure to the nobility, but he's from Tevinter!"

"I am technically an apostate elf, too, mind you," Ellana shot back defensively, perhaps a bit too quickly. "Solas has given me good counsel since the beginning of this whole ordeal." The slight curving of Leliana's lips did not go unnoticed by her and she quickly continued. "They won't even remember seeing Cole and Iron Bull knows how to behave in court. He wouldn't be a Ben-Hassrath if he couldn't blend into his surroundings."

Josephine sighed. "I suppose, but Madame Vivienne, Varric, Blackwall, or even Cassandra would have been a better choice."

It was an unspoken agreement that bringing Sera would be a catastrophe.

"As you said yourself: it's too late to back out now. Let's just get this over with."

She took one step before spotting Duke Gaspard weaving his way through the crowd of nobles in the garden. He wore a suit of teal silk brocade, adorned with silverite pauldrons. A red sash was draped over his broad chest. His face, as was Orlesian custom, was hidden behind a golden half-mask. Ellana could barely see his eyes through the slits and it unnerved her greatly. You could gauge an individual's intentions through their eyes, creature or human. Did he have something to hide?

"It is a great pleasure to meet you, Inquisitor Lavellan," he greeted in a thick Orlesian accent. He took her hand and kissed the back of it, the stubble of his beard leaving red scratch marks on her skin. She resisted the urge to wince.

"Bringing the rebel mages into the ranks of your army was a brilliant move," he continued and leaned in with a conspiratorial smile. "Imagine what the Inquisition could accomplish with the full support of the rightful Emperor of Orlais!"

Ah, so he was fishing for support. He figured he had an edge on the competition since she accepted his invitation to the masquerade. Arrogant man.

"Oh?" she asked and put a finger to her chin thoughtfully. "Which one was the rightful one, again? I keep getting them confused."

Gaspard let out a genuine laugh, the sound emanating from deep within his chest. "Why, the handsome, charming one of course, my lady!"

She could feel his eyes graze over her body appraisingly, lingering for no small amount of time on her chest, and it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. The dress was definitely a mistake. Behind her, the air cooled considerably and Solas cleared his throat. The agonizingly long moment ended and Gaspard extended an arm for her to take.

"My lady, are you prepared to shock the court by walking into the Grand Ball with a hateful usurper?" He grinned devilishly down at her.

She, playing the part of charming guest, smiled up at him, all teeth and dimpled cheeks. "I can't imagine that crowd has seen anything better than us in their entire lives," she joked. Gaspard laughed and placed a hand over the one holding his arm. He pierced her with his gaze through those slitted eyes.

"You are a woman after my own heart," he replied, voice husky. Oh no, she was making this worse. The hand resting over her own was pressed up against her breast, a rather sly way to grope her. The Game was not something she was adept at. Was this even part of the Game? All she knew was that she couldn't part from him soon enough.

They ascended the stairs towards the entrance of the Winter Palace and, along the way, the whispers of the nobles did not go unnoticed.

"Is that the Inquisitor?"

"An elven savage? Maker forbid!"

"Andraste would never choose a knife-ear as her herald."

"Is this Gaspard's idea of a joke?"

"Perhaps she's his whore. She certainly dresses like one."

"Those marks on her face are hideous."

Each comment was a dagger to her pride. Her cheeks burned with shame. They had a point: why would Andraste choose an elf to save Thedas? Ellana didn't even believe in the Maker. Their opinions shouldn't have mattered, but they did. It wasn't just because they were directed at her. She was the face of the Inquisition and a negative opinion of her would reflect poorly on her people. They deserved better than that.

The walk to the front entrance stretched on for an eternity. Ellana did her best to keep her composure and block out the horrible remarks, with little success. She was vaguely aware of Gaspard speaking to her about his concerns for the night, namely that Briala, the elven ambassador, was up to something with her legion of servants. Ellana’s jaw tightened.

"Tell me there's more to your suspicion than 'the elves were acting dodgy'," she interrupted, her tone taking on a sharp edge. Gaspard was taken aback by her sudden change in mood. Of course he didn't notice what was being said about her. Or he did, but didn't care. Elves meant less than nothing to humans.

"Briala used to be a servant of Celene's," Gaspard argued. "That is, until my cousin had her arrested for crimes against the empire to cover up a political mistake. If anyone in this room wishes Celene harm, Inquisitor, it's that elf. She certainly has reason."

Right, the assassination attempt. That's what really mattered. Why should she care what those idiot nobles thought of her when the fate of the world was at stake? And yet it gnawed away at her from the inside all the same. Perhaps she was afraid those remarks were mere echoes of her own thoughts.

"I'll look into it," she said, deflated.

Gaspard sighed. "Be as discreet as possible," he warned. "I detest the Game, but if we do not play it well, our enemies will make us look like villains."

He relinquished her arm when they entered the vestibule and left to mingle with a few of the guests. Ellana breathed a sigh of relief and turned to face her entourage.

"When you meet the empress, the eyes of the entire court will be upon you," Josephine reminded her. She smoothed out a crinkle in Ellana's dress and adjusted her collar. "You were safer staring down Corypheus, I'm afraid. The Game is like Wicked Grace played to the death. You must never reveal your cards."

A wave of nausea swept over Ellana. Her heart pounded against her ribcage like a war drum. Outside, she had fresh air, but in the palace the walls seemed to press in, threatening to crush her. Through it all, the disparaging remarks of the nobles were building to a crescendo in her mind, drowning out all other noise.

"You're just full of joy and light this evening," she managed to croak out when Josephine continued to stare at her. It was supposed to be a light-hearted jest but lacked the substance.

"Everything will be fine," Josephine said, to herself more than anyone else. "Andraste watch over us all."

The group broke apart then, Josephine, Cullen, and Leliana ascending another set of stairs to scope out the perimeter before the festivities started.

"I’m headed to the buffet,” said Bull as he patted his growling stomach. "I'm starving."

"Vishante kaffas, don't just shovel it in your mouth like a savage, you oaf," Dorian grumbled. He followed after the Qunari to try to prevent a disaster.

Cole had already vanished.

The anticipation of the night's events threatened to overwhelm Ellana and she tried to quickly and gracefully descend another set of stairs that led into a storage room. She just needed a moment to collect herself, a place to catch her breath. There was a mirror in the storage room with a great golden frame, a lion head jutting out on either side of the arch. She caught her reflection in it as she paced the small space and stopped. Her hands went to her knife-shaped ears, traced the hideous marks on her forehead and cheeks, the Dalish version of a mask. The sudden hatred that consumed her spilled over and she tossed the feathered circlet off of her head, yanking her hair out of the updo that took Josephine hours to do. She tried to style her hair so it would hide her ears. On a table next to the mirror sat a few discarded masks. She picked one up and placed it over her face to hide her vallaslin.

There, now she looked more human. Acceptable ... right? So why did her stomach continue to churn? Why were hot, angry tears threatening to spill over?

"What are you doing?"

Ellana gasped and spun around. She was so caught up in her emotional turmoil that she didn't hear the door open or even see the elf behind her in the mirror.

"Solas! I was just--"

His brows knitted in concern as he took in her wild hair and covered face. 'I'm fine,' was her instinctual response, but it never reached her lips. It was impossible to lie to him. He was wise beyond his years and though they had only known each other a short amount of time, she felt he knew, intimately, the depths of her heart.

"I don't know what I'm doing," she admitted in a whisper, her bottom lip trembling as the tears finally slipped down her cheeks. "This isn't --- Did you hear the things they said? I don't belong here."

He slowly approached her until they were mere inches apart. There was fire in his eyes, a righteous fury. For her? Or maybe he thought her foolish. His fingertips slipped under the edge of the mask, grazing her wet cheeks before gently removing the mask from her face. He tossed it aside, never taking his eyes off of her. Mesmerized, she couldn't look away.

"They are not worth your tears."

His hands cupped her face, wiping her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. Her breath hitched in her throat. His hands were rough, calloused, but the gesture was tender. He cradled her face like he was holding the world in his hands, his gaze so intense it was as if nothing else existed in that moment but them. The echoes of the nobles' words faded away as she hung onto every one of his.

"I'm the Inquisitor," she protested. "I'm supposed to represent the Inquisition. This meeting hinges on what the court makes of me and they just see me as an elven savage--! If I were human--"

"You are Elvhen," Solas declared, cutting off her downward spiral. "Our people built an empire that spanned all of Thedas. We created wonders the likes of which no other race has ever accomplished and never will."

This was the first time he had ever referred to her as one of his people. When they first met, he showed such scorn for the Dalish and didn't associate himself with city elves. He stood apart and above everyone else. His name meant 'pride' in the elven language, but she only ever saw him as ... lonely. Now he was including her in his world, the world of the true elves. Who knew whether he was right, but the meaning itself meant everything to her.

"Beyond that," he continued as he circled around behind her, "you are the Inquisitor." His fingers brushed against the nape of her neck as he started to gather her hair into his hands, handling it like it was made of the finest silk. "You command an army that makes nations tremble.” Her scalp tingled as he continued to brush his fingers through her hair. “Ferelden, Orlais, the Free Marches, they hang on to your every word and beg for the salvation that only you can deliver. You stand defiant against a would-be god and his archdemon. Be proud of who and what you are."

He leaned in close to her, lips a hair's breadth from her ear. "And you are the most beautiful woman in this entire palace," he murmured. Goosebumps erupted down her arms and the back of her neck, making her shiver, but unlike with Gaspard it was thrilling, not revolting. Desire sparked in her core and she fought back the urge to spin around and crush her lips against his. He was tying her hair up into a bun, not the complicated braided crown that Josephine had created, but loose and elegant, leaving her ears visible for all to see.

"These nobles fear the power you wield. Your beauty is a height they can never hope to reach. Envious, they must try to tear you down instead. Do not let them."

The bun was finished and he stepped back around to her front, his hands planting firmly on her hips. His words stole the breath from her lungs and set her heart fluttering. No one had ever spoken of her that way before. Not her clan, not her friends, not even her former lover. The words rolled off of his tongue so easily like they were waiting to be said.

"Sweet talker," she managed in a breathless whisper.

There was a spark of amusement in his eyes, though it was quickly covered by a solid determination. "I speak the truth," he said and she believed him. Even if it wasn't objectively true, it was to him and needed to be said.

Fear creeped into her voice as the weight of the words made her falter. He held her in such high regard. Maybe too high. "What if I fail?" she asked.

"You won't."

A nervous laugh bubbled out of her. "You have such confidence in me."

"It is well-deserved."

Ellana swallowed, all too aware of the warmth of his hands through the fabric of her dress. She tilted her head back to get a better look at him and tried to take a step closer, but he held her in place. There was a storm churning in his steel blue eyes, a flurry of emotions warring inside of him. Excitement. Adoration. Desire. Then regret, resignation. Behind it all, a sorrow so deep and endless she felt she might drown in it. He was always restraining himself. In the Fade, on the balcony of her room, his heart and mind were at odds with each other. There was an obvious attraction between them. He had already kissed her twice before, but still something kept holding him back. The chains of a past she knew nothing about. He spoke of his journeys through the Fade, but never of himself. All of those pretty words and no follow-up.

"You're always so detached and self-controlled, Solas,” she observed. Her hands rested atop his and felt them tremble as she gently pried them away. "But you don't need to be ... not with me."

Fingers danced along the velvet fabric of his suit before resting against his chest. She could feel his erratic heartbeat through his jacket and knew then that her words were true. So she did have the same effect on him that he had on her. A hesitant step forward closed the distance between them further.

"This is dangerous," he breathed, eyelids drooping. His resolve was faltering.

"I like danger." She gripped the lapels of his jacket and pulled him closer. They were mere inches away from each other now.

"Ellana," he warned and a thrill pulsed through her at the sound of her name on his lips.

"What are you so afraid of?"

He struggled to find the words, eyes glossed over as if trapped in a memory. She watched him for a moment, noting the light dusk of freckles across his cheeks and nose, the scar above his brow, the curve of his jaw, the fullness of his lips. It was as if the gods themselves sculpted him. He was beautiful.

She rested a hand against his cheek to pull him back to the present. "Solas?"

"... I don't want to lose you," he finally admitted, leaning into her touch. His fingers curled around hers and her heart ached. There were such thick walls around his heart and though she chipped away at it, she still hadn't completely broken through. Solas was always looking miles ahead of everyone else or behind in his past, but never in the moment.

Her smile was kind, patient. "You still have me," she assured him and traced the line of his jaw down to his chin. "I don't know what the future holds for us. I don't know if we'll defeat Corypheus or what will happen to the Inquisition. I don't know if you and I will stay together or drift apart, but fear of the future shouldn't stop us from enjoying the present. What I do know is that you make me feel ... important. Like I matter beyond my titles. Me, Ellana. Not the Inquisitor, not the Herald of Andraste, not the Keeper's First. Just ... me. You look at me like I'm the only thing that matters .. like the world could crumble all around us and you wouldn't even notice." She glanced down, her cheeks tinged red. "Perhaps it's selfish of me, but I want to be the only one you look at that way."

She felt him take her chin and tip it up, his gaze a smoldering flame that slowly drifted down to settle on her mouth.

"You are."

Their lips met and everything he had held back from her flooded into that kiss. His adoration and desire burned against her like a wildfire. She grew lightheaded from the force of it, but craved the taste of him as a Templar coveted lyrium. They parted for a brief moment to catch their breath and his hands found her waist again, though this time it was to pull her against him. Her dress, so flimsy before, was now far too thick. She wound her arms around his neck, her tongue flicking against his lips. That elicited a groan deep in his chest that rumbled against her own. He was unraveling before her and it exhilarated her. The kiss broke again only for her to pepper more across his jaw and down his throat.

"Ellana," he groaned. It spurred her to start hastily undoing the buttons of his jacket, but he brought her face back up to capture her lips again. The kiss deepened and she felt his tongue in her mouth, gliding along her own. He gripped the backs of her thighs and lifted her up onto his waist, her back hitting the wall. She braced herself against it and wrapped her legs around him for support. His hands slid up underneath her dress and caressed her thighs and she moaned. Her leggings were still in the way, but his fingertips teased along the waistline. That flame he sparked inside of her became an all-consuming fire.

"Solas," she whimpered as kisses traced her collarbone. Her fingers tried to find the buttons of his jacket again, but now his lips were at her breasts. She had awakened a wolf in him that lay dormant for far too long and it was ravenous for the taste of her flesh. He was struggling to bring himself back under control, but she didn't want him to. He brought his lips back to her jawline, his cheek brushing against hers.

"Ar lath, ma vhenan," he breathed and time stopped. She went rigid in his grip and he stared up at her as if surprised the words had spilled from his mouth. They stared at each other, fighting for breath and trying to make sense of the words through their delirium. He slowly lowered her back to the ground, though his arms stayed wrapped around her. She, too, refused to let go of him.

"...You do?" she asked. Her arousal, though definitely still there, was melting into something else.

His eyes searched hers, trying to discern how she felt about the words, but then he set his jaw, resolute. "I do."

The confession hung between them for an agonizing moment and he swallowed, his throat bobbing in anticipation of her reaction. A wide grin spread across her flushed face. There was attraction between them, yes, but she never expected that it went deeper than that for him ... that he loved her, that he would admit it first. She had been in love with him from the moment they met, when he first grabbed her hand and showed her the power that she wielded. He always seemed so lonely and sad, but he would positively light up when speaking about the Fade. She lived for those stories. His smile, as rare and fleeting as it was, could brighten her whole day. When he laughed? Indescribable. She only heard it once and it became her personal mission to hear it again. But her fears mirrored his: she didn't want to lose him either, so she never built up the courage to tell him how she felt. Now he admitted it himself. Her hands cupped his face and she kissed him tenderly.

"Ar lath, ma vhenan," she declared in return.

He flashed her a crooked grin before pulling her back against him, intending to finish what they started.

Until the door to the storage room creaked open.

"There you are, Inquisitor," Josephine announced with no small degree of relief. "We've been looking ev- Oh." The scene before her finally registered and she blushed, averting her eyes respectfully. "Oh, do forgive me." she apologized, "I seem to have opened the wrong door."

"Josephine!” Ellana called out in surprise. Her face turned the shade of spindleweed and she let go of Solas, smoothing out her dress. “It’s fine, we were just–”

Solas glanced over his shoulder at the ambassador before calmly picking Ellana’s circlet off of the floor and placing it back on her head. How could he be so poised?! She was mortified, but he had an air of smugness about him, as if being caught making out with the Inquisitor in a closet was the most natural thing in the world.

“Yes, well, the court is ready to receive us,” Josephine said, her gaze still averted. “I will meet you upstairs.” With that, she slipped back out of the door.

Ellana released a breath she didn’t know she was holding and adjusted the brooch and her hair. “Right, well, I guess it’s time to meet the empress.”

“Remember my words,” Solas told her as he straightened his own jacket.

“How could I forget them?” She buttoned up his jacket and fixed the sash, aware that he was gazing at her fondly. “Save me a dance?”

He chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “Perhaps, as soon as our present business is concluded.”

“I'll hold you to that.” She grinned and headed out of the storage room to meet up with Josephine.

Thankfully, it seemed the nobles were so caught up in their own affairs that they didn't seem to pay her much mind. A few cursive glances her way and more whispering, but she found herself less bothered by them than before.

“Be proud of who you are.”

She lifted her head to stare down her nose at them and confidently strode upstairs and into the ballroom.

[lavellanhell]

So obviously the goal is to establish the Inquisition to serve as an organization that will bring peace to the people and solve all threats. At least that's what they said they read from Justinian's writings.

Leliana went to send a message to the mages and templars. At least one must join in order for us to have enough power to close the breach.

Whether the crows flew in with the message safely or not…

... no reply reached Heaven. Not from either of them.

And so Josephine decided that it was necessary to officially announce the creation of the Inquisition and its interests. Cullen was so upset that even though he's normally a neat freak, he nailed the plaque to the door crookedly.

I don't really understand human politics, but it was clear that a lot of people didn't like the Inquisition. And especially to those who were among the dignitaries of the Chantry. Cassandra knew that the action would soon provoke a reaction, so she began gathering the Inquisition army. For now, it was made up of volunteers, survivors and refugees.

Commander Cullen threw out contacts among his Templar friends who would be willing to join our cause. And indeed some came. Commander did a great job training the soldiers.

Leliana also soon developed a network of spies from her contacts. And Josephine was also active - she actively sought out persons among the nobles and other influential personalities who could contribute some material gift or at least a good word in certain circles.

Even though the numbers weren't high yet, soon Haven was too small for us. In addition to soldiers, merchants and volunteers, crowds of refugees began to flow here, seeking comfort and pinning their hopes on us. To the Inquisition.

[lagebu]

The Warden returned from her quest only to find Leliana having a threesome with Josephine and the Inquisitor

(she then joins them in a foursome of course

[herald-divine-hell]

NOTICE

If you see Inquisitor Alexandra Trevelyan walking around in the middle of the night with a handful of small chocolate cakes: You in fact did not.

Whoever reports such false testimonies to Sister Leliana will be court-martialed with a fifteen hour lecture regarding the anatomical construction of the Fade with the Inquisitor.

No, there will be no chocolate cakes for you. It is a punishment.

~ Unknown poster.

A note beneath this in the hand of Sister Leliana:

Whoever informs of such suspicious activities and does not return with a small chocolate as proof will also be put under suspension of pay for a period of a week.

A note beneath that, in the fine writing of Josephine Montilyet, Ambassador of the Inquisition:

This is not what the postings are for, you two.

Another note beneath that in the writing of Sister Leliana

Would you rather us to post our messages to each other here?

A smaller note in large, expressive print, with an unusual sloppiness:

DO NOT DO THAT!

~ Inquisitor Trevelyan

[go-fornicate-yourself]

Memes of my DA Ocs bc Nobody Asked

[homiest88]

Letter from the Hero of Ferelden - Male Inquisitor and Female Warden

To His Worship, Inquisitor Lavellan

I appreciate your warning regarding Corypheus. Fortunately, my own search has taken me out of the area where the supposed magister is operating, and while I have encountered challenges of my own, they have not involved any weakness related to my Grey Warden Abilities.

As I have little useful information to offer, please accept the accompanying gifts instead. If, in my quest, I find anything that may be of use to you in your fight against Corypheus , I will send it to you immediately.

I have also included a note of a personal nature for Leliana. I was not there for the death of Divine Justinia, but I know it will have hurt her terribly. While her wits and skill are amazing, Leliana’s greatest strength lies in her faith, and to have Justinia die strikes at her very core. I beg you, if she is faltering, help her find her way back to the light.

In closing, I wish you luck. The world of shemlen is a difficult one for our kind, and I can only imagine the pressure of leading the Inquisition, an organization dedicated to the Chantry, while staying true to the Way of the Three Trees. May Myhtal protect you in your quest, and Andruil bless your hunt.

Yours,

Warden-Commander Mahariel of Ferelden

[crowinkwriting]

Tranquisitor

[Author Notes]

Chapter 3:

After sealing the next rift Olive was incredibly relieved to have finally reached the forward camp. The large doors slowly opened and Olive, along with Solas and Varric, followed behind Cassandra. As they walked through the camp Olive saw Cassandra was leading them to a table where Leliana was arguing with two other men.

Olive could tell the older man was a part of the Chantry just by the way he was dressed. However she wasn’t sure about the younger man. He was dressed in shiny white and gold guard like armor and she guessed was an archer based on the large bow he had with him. When they got closer Olive could hear what they were saying. “You have already caused enough trouble without resorting to this exercise in futility.” The older man argued. Both Leliana and the archer seemed pretty annoyed at this.

“I have caused trouble?” Leliana asked.

“We cannot do nothing. The Breach is still expanding.” The archer beside Leliana pointed out. His accent seemed familiar to Olive but she couldn’t quite place it.

“You have already caused enough trouble without resorting to this exercise in futility.” The man from the Chantry yelled at Leliana before turning to the archer beside her. “And you have no authority here.” He stated.

When Olive’s group got closer she noticed Varric’s expression was something between surprised and annoyed as he noticed the archer beside Leliana. “Choir boy?” Varric asked and the archer quickly turned to face them.

“Varric? What are you doing here?” The archer asked, seeming just as surprised to see them.

“I could be asking you the same question.” Varric responded. Cassandra then looked between Varric and the man he had referred to as Choir boy. “That’s Prince Sebastian?” She asked Varric. ‘Prince?’ Olive thought. So far there was a prince, a Seeker, and an apostate but Olive still hadn’t seen a single circle mage or templar.

Before Sebastian or Varric could respond Leliana had finally noticed the group. “You made it!” Leliana excitedly said before turning to the older man. “Chancellor Roderick this is-.” She started but was interrupted by the Chancellor.

“I know who she is. As Grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I hereby order you to take this criminal to Val Royeaux to face execution.” The Chancellor demanded as he pointed at Olive.

“Order me? You are a glorified clerk. A bureaucrat.” Cassandra argued, becoming just as annoyed as Leliana and Sebastian were.

“And you are a thug, but a thug who supposedly serves the Chantry.” The Chancellor responded. As the four continue to argue about what Olive assumed was probably political chantry matters Olive’s attention slowly drifted to the large green light in the sky. She really didn’t understand the point. Even if they did arrest her or pick a new Divine the Breach was still there and getting larger as more time passed. ‘This is all pointless.’ Olive realized.

“Shouldn’t we focus on closing the Breach?” Olive finally spoke up. The four in front of her. “You brought this on us in the first place!” The Chancellor yelled at her.

“She’s right. We still need to close the Breach.” Sebastian agreed with Olive. Cassandra then stepped forward and stood beside Sebastian at the table so she was in front of the Chancellor. “Call a retreat, Seeker. Our position here is hopeless.” The Chancellor said but Cassandra ignored him. “We can stop this before it’s too late.” She stated.

“How? You won’t survive long enough to reach the temple, even with all your soldiers.” The Chancellor asked, seeming hopeless.

“We must get to the temple. It’s the quickest route.” Cassandra said.

“But not the safest. Our forces can charge as a distraction while we go through the mountains.” Leliana then suggested pointing toward the mountains.

The four continued to bicker a little longer but their arguing was interrupted by the loud sound of the Breach expanding again. Then Olive felt the pain return to her hand along with the bright green glow. Olive held her wrist in pain and watched as the glowing and pain subsided again.

“How do you think we should proceed?” Cassandra then asked her. ‘They want my opinion? I’m not even sure what’s going on.’ Olive internally panicked. As she looked at her hand she realized she may not have much longer at this rate. Even if she didn’t make it the Breach needed to be closed. 

“We should charge. I may not survive long enough for your trial.” Olive finally answered. Cassandra then turned back to Leliana. “Leliana. Bring everyone left in the valley. Everyone.” Cassandra ordered.

As Leliana began to walk away Sebastian stopped her. “I’m coming with you.” He stated.

“Shouldn’t you be with Hawke?” Varric then asked Sebastian. For a second the anchor seemed like he wanted to say something but chose not to. “That’s not important right now.” He responded before following Leliana, leaving Varric confused.

Olive and her companions then followed Cassandra as she headed through the camp. As they continued on Olive heard the Chancellor give them one last warning. “On your head be the consequences, Seeker.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Olive couldn’t help but feel nervous once she jumped from the rubble and slowly approached the large rift now above her and the glow from her hand returned again. “Someone help me!” They heard a ghostly voice cry out of nowhere. “What’s going on here?” Another ghostly voice said. Olive recognized it as her own but it just didn’t sound right. Other than the odd echo her voice sounds so monoton. There was just no emotion, not even confusion.

‘I barely sounded like a person.’ She thought, now reminded of her previous state before the mark. “That was your voice. Most Holy called out to you, but…” Cassandra started to say.

They were then interrupted by a flash of light and when Olive looked again at the rift she saw a huge shadowy figure looming over the Divine. Olive watches as a ghostly figure of herself slowly walked into the room. Her face lacked any expression of fear or confusion and on her forehead was the brand of a sun.

Olive was tempted to feel her forehead now and see if the mark was still there but she knew she had to focus. “What’s going on here?” The ghostly tranquil asked.

“Run while you can! Warn them!” Justinia yelled. The Shadow figure didn’t even move. It simply said. “We have an intruder. Slay that thing.” Sounding repulsed by Olive.

With another flash of light all the ghostly figures were gone bad leaving just the large rift. “You were there! Who attacked? And the Divine, is she…? Was this vision true? What are we seeing?” Cassandra began to question Olive.

“I don’t remember. I’m sorry.” Was the only answer Olive could give. 

While Olive was speaking with Cassandra she hadn’t noticed Solas walking closer to the rift. “Echoes of what happened here. The Fade bleeds into this place.” Solas said before turning back to the group. “This rift is not sealed but it is closed, albeit temporarily. I believe with the mark the rift can be opened and then sealed properly and safely. However, opening the rift will likely attract attention from the other side.”

“That means demons! Stand ready!” Cassandra shouted to war the soldiers and archers around them. Olive then watched as everyone prepared themselves for the fight and she stood under the rift.

‘Maker, I know I’m a mage and maybe you don’t like me but please don’t let this be the end for me.’ Olive prayed as she looked up at the rift.

Olive slowly raised her hand and began to open the Breach. Once it had ripped open a huge Pride demon fell out, knocking Olive off her feet. “Now!” Cassandra shouted from behind Olive.

Olive quickly scrambled to her feet as the soldiers charged the giant demon. Grabbing her staff and when she turned it on the pride demon Olive watched in frustration as all she could use was small sparks. If there wasn’t something more urgent going on she would have been tempted to throw the staff out of frustration.

However even in her anger she knew that wouldn’t help. Olive then noticed the shades coming out after the pride demon who was now fighting the soldiers. She could only use a small amount of her magic but it was enough to focus some electricity at the end of her staff. A Shade began to quickly approach her and since most the other soldiers were focused on the pride demon she was on her own.

Once the Shade was within range Olive quickly struck it with her staff as hard as she could in the side and watched as fell back and was stunned from the electricity. While it was still getting over the shock of the attack Olive attacked the demon again. This attack knocked the creature back even further. It was then that she saw the second Shade quickly approaching her.

When she hit the second Shade it hadn’t been as effective. The Shade recovered much quicker and started to attack Olive. She then quickly moved out of the way of the incoming demon claws. Now with the two Shades after her Olive took another hit at the weaker Shade. When her staff struck the Shade to her surprise another lightning chain came from her staff, killing the both the demons in front of her. Relieved to have her magic back again, she joined the fight against the larger demon.

As the fight continued on Olive was surprised how quickly her energy was drained. She tried to keep her distance from the pride demon as she used what little magic she still could. There were a few times that she had almost been struck by the large wips the creature was using. Cassandra and the rest of the soldiers had charged the demon and were keeping most of its attention. The demon had become weak enough to have a hard time defending itself against the Seeker and other soldiers.

While Cassandra kept it distracted Olive saw she had a clear shot to try and reach the rift. As Olive shot one last bolt of lightning at the demon she quickly and ran to get closer to the rift. Unfortunately that one last attack had gotten the attention of the pride demon and it was no longer focused on the soldiers at its feet. Before Olive had realized it the demon sent a blast of lighting in her direction. The charge of lighting barely missed Olive as she was quickly pulled back by someone behind her. When she quickly turned to see who had saved her, Olive was surprised to see the archer from earlier beside her preparing to fire another arrow.

Now that the demon seemed focused back on the soldier nearest to it Olive quickly got back to her feet and ran to the rift hoping nothing else would get in her way. After she finally managed to get close enough to the rift Olive raised her hand like she had before. The pain in her hand was more severe than before as Olive tried to force the rift closed again. Once the rift finally sealed there was a flash of bright light before Olive watched as everything faded to black.

[Masterlist]

[acmelxvr]

Take A Seat, Inquisitor

Pairing: Female Lavellan x Solas

Summary: Solas finds the Inquisitor in desperate need of some relaxation in the Winter Palace. And, well, he can provide.

Genre/Tags: Explicit, Canon Compliant, POV Third Person, Spoilers for Dragon Age: Inquisition, Drunk Sex, No Penetration Though, Thigh Riding, Praise, Dirty Talk, Ear Licking, Edging, Orgasm Denial, Biting, Premature Ejaculation, Mentions of Oral Sex

Word Count: 3,900

Notes: This is my first Solas fic so be gentle pls...I also posted it on AO3, you can read it there by clicking this link if you want :3

“And that’s how I ended up hunting wyverns in the Frostbacks with only two pairs of breeches!” All the nobles and Inquisition personnel in the small circle laugh at the lord’s story, some more forced than others. The ball at the Winter Palace wanes into the early hours of the morning now with no end in sight. Although drinks and food are still being served, the massive crowd has thinned into small packs of chattering lords and ladies who would dare not make the faux pas of leaving too early.

“I think I’m going to explore the library.” Lavellan murmurs to Leliana, Josephine, and Cullen. The excuse is enough to dissuade the rest of the crowd from protesting the Inquisitor’s departure from the group, but her three advisors are unconvinced.

“Take me with you.” Cullen pleads through gritted teeth, smiling a bit too wide as he barely follows along to the conversation taking place. Josephine tuts at the Commander but simply nods at Lavellan. 

“Good idea. You might find some of the more intellectual attendees who would be interested in learning more about the Inquisition.” Josephine’s eyes twinkle at the possibilities, and the Inquisitor nods politely.

“Yes, I will most definitely be doing that.” She says flatly, causing Cullen to snort and this time earn a light kick from Leliana that could easily be passed as a stretch of the knee. As Lavellan begins to take her leave, the Spymaster grabs her arm and turns to speak over her shoulder to avoid any eavesdroppers.

“You did well tonight.” She starts. “You are a complete natural at The Game, despite the many forces working against you.” Lavellan smirks at the praise, knowing Leliana probably thought she would trip over her own two feet. “You’ve earned a respite, even just for a few hours before our work starts up again.” The last part she fully whispers, leaning in conspicuously. “For once, I will advise you to not listen to Josephine.” She smiles knowingly before dropping the Inquisitor’s arm. 

Lavellan chuckles. “You read my mind.” She takes small steps through the ballroom towards the vestibule, occasionally saying hello to people she passes. Her mind spins with the possibilities of her alliance with Empress Celene; what it means for the Inquisition, for the Dalish, for herself. The Inquisitor is still deep in thought when she looks up and realizes that her body seemed to auto-pilot her straight into the Grand Library. The guards that used to be stationed near the entrance have disappeared, gone hours ago once the threat against the Empress’s life was neutralized. She worries over this for a moment, before dropping her shoulders and taking a deep breath as she remembers Leliana’s words.

Her fingers trace over the many titles packed into the various shelves, some in languages Lavellan doesn’t even recognize. She smiles softly as she picks up a book by a professor in the Free Marches collecting Dalish songs and tales. She leans against a desk, facing away from the Grand Library entrance, while she flips through the pages and remembers a much simpler time. 

“I figured you’d be hiding in here.” The voice makes her jump, yelp, and drop the book at the same time. She quickly turns with her hand over her hidden dagger strapped to her thigh, only to sigh when Solas snorts with laughter. “The Inquisitor should not be so easily caught off guard.” He exclaims, the two flutes of champagne in each hand shaking as he chuckles to himself.

“Yes, well, forgive me if it pleases you.” She snips, then grimaces when Solas raises his eyebrows slightly at her short tone. “I’m sorry. I had finally escaped from all those people out there…I guess I got a bit caught up in what I was reading.” Her explanation is jumbled, but Solas places the two drinks on the desk before waving her off.

“Do not apologize. I’m certain you’ve had a much busier night than I. I can leave, if you wish.” He points towards one glass as an offering. Lavellan nods gratefully before grabbing the thin spine of the delicate piece and holding it close to her chest.

“Please, stay.” She says. “You’re good company.” Solas smiles and shakes his head as another laugh escapes him. He heads towards the shelf Lavellan previously occupied, now examining the tomes himself.  With his back towards Lavellan, she can’t help but take in Solas’ form. He towers over her a bit and his broad shoulders also help distinguish Solas from the Dalish elves she’s used to. Even in the alienages, Solas stands out as…bigger.

Lavellan coughs, a flush climbing her cheeks as her mind wanders to more depraved thoughts about Solas’ body. Solas was certainly free with his verbal affections, but they had only just started engaging in physical affections recently. Even then, they had only kissed. Lavellan didn’t mind waiting, of course, but it felt as though every time it developed into something more that Solas pulled away. 

Solas clears his throat, bringing the Inquisitor out of her thoughts as though he has eyes on the back of his head and can see how she’s examining him. Or maybe being a mage with a speciality in the Fade lets him read minds. Lavellan’s eyes widen as the drink begins to take hold. Can Solas read minds? She thinks, half seriously. “Inquisitor?” Solas asks.

“Yes!” He turns to fully face her as he holds a book in his hand. “Yes, sorry. Long night.” She mutters, taking another sip. She can feel Solas’s gaze on her as she redirects her vision to a different corner of the room. The shadows dance along the wall as the various candles around the room burn low. There’s a moment of silence, as though Solas is deciding to address the tension in the room. 

“I asked whether you enjoyed your time in the Winter Palace tonight.” Solas leans against the bookshelf, a sly smile gracing his face. “The way you managed to navigate the nobility, the ballroom floor, and an assassination attempt was particularly stunning.” He swirls his beverage in one hand as he flips through his chosen book. Solas’ choice of words cause Lavellan to finally bring her attention back to him. She scrutinizes him for a moment, furrowing her brow as her eyes rake over his stature from head to toe. Finally, she smiles too.

“Solas, are you drunk?” She asks. She giggles as Solas opens his mouth to give a quick retort, but closes it when he realizes he doesn’t have one. He shakes his head in slight embarrassment and drops his eyes as the Inquisitor continues to quietly laugh. “I guess I need to catch up.” Lavellan murmurs as Solas regains his footing in the conversation.

“I will admit to partaking in more drinking than I usually allow myself. All the power, intrigue, danger, sex…” He notices how Lavellan crosses her legs when he pauses. “Well, I suppose it’s nice to go unnoticed for an evening. To engage in behavior that is unbecoming of me.” Lavellan shakes her head, alleviating his fears that she thinks less of him now. “You haven’t answered my original question.” He states, placing his book back on the shelf.

“Enjoyed is not the word I would use.” She pauses, thinking deeply on her answer. “I’m glad I was able to play The Game well enough. It was almost satisfying being able to talk circles around humans.” Solas nods ruefully, staying silent. “But I was on edge the entire time. Constantly waiting for something to go wrong. And when the Grand Duchess was dragged away…” She trails off. 

“Power can be suffocating, sometimes.” Solas finishes Lavellan’s thought. They’ve both finished their drinks at this point, the flush on Lavellan’s face indicating that she’s just as tipsy as Solas is. “There are times when a decision needs to be made. Even the correct choice is never an easy one.” Solas’s expression turns serious, and Lavellan cocks her head.

“So you think I made the right choice? Going with Empress Celene?” She asks. The candles in the Library have dimmed even further as the moon creeps higher above Halamshiral. Solas tilts his head back against the fine wooden shelf, crossing his arms and looking down at the Inquisitor.

“Is my praise necessary for you to feel at ease?” His question makes Lavellan laugh, a true laugh that comes from her stomach. It’s infectious to Solas, a smile creeping onto his face replacing the scowl he had moments before. “Briala and Celene could never have ruled together, and Gaspard is a disaster when it comes to court. In the Fade I’ve seen whole nations crumble because someone would rather force a compromise than make a real decision.” He moves towards Lavellan, all social grace completely lost, and places a hand on her shoulder. “You made a real decision, ma vhenan. They are never easy.” 

Lavellan looks up at Solas, who is only now an arm’s length away. “Ma vhenan?” She restates, teasing Solas now. “That is an odd way to pronounce ‘Inquisitor’, Solas.” Her hand creeps up to rest on top of Solas, the space between the two elves shrinking as he moves to grip her waist.

He rests his forehead against Lavellan’s, rubbing her shoulder with his thumb adoringly. “You looked breathtaking tonight. You were magnificent, awe-inspiring. You’ll forgive me if I drop your title. I couldn’t bear to hide how I feel for you any longer.” He pulls back momentarily to kiss the top of her head, one hand moving to the small of her back. She leans into his touch, and for some minutes the pair is silent, their embrace only betrayed by the soft skitters of someone passing through the hallway.

The trance is broken as Lavellan gives a soft push to Solas. “I should head back now. There are people probably looking for me.” She groans and rolls her shoulders, her muscles tensing back as she recalls what it feels like to have a dozen pairs of eyes on you at all times. She turns to leave, but Solas captures her arm.

“You’ve played your part for the night, vhenan.” Solas pulls Lavellan flush against him, her backside against his groin. Solas forgets his inhibitions as he pulls her collar back to plant a kiss on her neck, making Lavellan gasp. Another kiss and a roll of Solas’s hips makes her groan louder, planting her hands on the desk. “Relax with me. Forget your duty, even for a moment.” Solas’ words cause a small pit of guilt to form in his heart, but it retreats when Lavellan moans again. 

“Josephine would personally see to our executions if we were caught having sex in the Winter Palace.” Lavellan’s skin is practically lit on fire with every single one of Solas’s touches, his fingertips dancing down her waist. “And I think the Orlesian nobility would die from heart attacks if they found two naked elves here.” She turns to face Solas, who stops momentarily to grin wildly, showing his sharp canines.

“I haven’t said anything about being naked.” Their faces are inches apart, both of them breathing heavily as arousal sits heavy in their stomachs. “There are many things one can do to relax without being naked, if their imagination allows it.” Solas whispers in Lavellan’s ear. He pulls away and guides Lavellan to a plush couch in a dark corner, far from any immediate entrance into the library. Solas lets go of her hand and sits on the couch, spreading his legs wide. He leans back on the couch, throwing one arm over the velveteen, and pats his thigh, beckoning Lavellan to sit.

To sit on him.

Lavellan swallows as she takes the sight in. She’s imagined, dreamed of sex with Solas dozens of times, but this was something entirely new. Something she hadn’t even begun to consider, but was still enticing nonetheless. “Is this something you want?” She asks him.

“Yes.” Solas answers so quickly that Lavellan is taken aback. “Nothing would bring me more pleasure right now than to give you pleasure.” He holds out a hand for Lavellan to grab, and tugs her on top of him. “It is selfish of me to admit, but I do not kiss you the way I do solely for your benefit.” He rolls his thigh up causing Lavellan to cover her mouth as she moans. “I do it because I also enjoy it. No, enjoy is too simple of a word.” He turns his head to think while Lavellan grips his shoulders with both hands. “I relish it. Feeling you against me, with only some layers of clothing to separate us…Fenedhis, ma vhenan. You’ve undone me. I haven’t been this overcome with desire in a long time…You make it difficult to control myself.” He plants his hands on her hips. “Let me guide you. Let me show you what I mean. We can reckon with our indulgences in the morning.” 

Solas’ words have Lavellan dripping. she nods, and plants herself fully onto Solas’ thigh, moving her hands to Solas’ neck and jaw. He starts pushing her back and forth against his leg, adjusting the pressure by examining the way her face contorts just so. She moves to cover her eyes but Solas stops her. “You are so beautiful right now, vhenan. Do not think about how you might look, but focus on how you feel.” She obliges Solas and slowly drops her fingers back to his jaw. Solas notices how his words make her quicken the pace, if for a moment. “Ah, so you do need my praise to feel at ease. Very well.�� 

Solas keeps one hand on Lavellan’s hips, and moves one to the back of her head, entangling his fingers in her hair and pulling her down so he can whisper to her. She gasps as he presses up into her, causing her to roll her hips on her own. Although she can’t see it, she knows Solas is smiling with pride right now. “Just like that, perfect. You are a natural at this, vhenan.” His lips move against her ear as she forms a rhythm, her moans forming a perfect harmony with Solas as he groans from the pressure building in his own sex. The slight push and pull causes him to rub against the smooth fabric, making him knit his brow in concentration to ensure he somehow doesn’t cum before she does. He can’t remember the last time he did something like this with someone else; and while he’s relieved himself plenty of times since meeting the Inquisitor, he didn’t allow himself to think their relationship would get this far.

Lavellan whines loudly when Solas grinds up against her clit, the wet patch on his thigh exciting him more than before. He pulls Lavellan so that way they’re face to face, and kisses her like it’s the first time. She heaves against him, pressing her chest against his to get a better angle. Solas groans, louder this time as Lavellan’s knee presses up against his erection. Like everything else about Solas, it’s somehow bigger than she expected. “If you keep stopping, Inquisitor, you will inflate my ego. And getting you into this position has made me prideful enough already.”

 He kisses her again, sloppily this time, the alcohol ignoring any expectations of how their first time together would go. Solas presses his tongue against Lavellan’s, his eyes rolling back at the vibration of her moans. He finds her chest with one of his palms, kneading her and finding a nipple with ease. She yelps when he pinches and rolls, her thighs beginning to shake. Lavellan’s pace has quickened to a point where her thighs burn, the strain of muscle mixing with her pleasure. She begins to chant his name, panting and whining when Solas lets go of her nipples and moves his hands to her backside, massaging Lavellan and gripping her with a strength she didn’t know he had. “Do you know how many times I’ve finished thinking of this exact situation? How I’ve dreamed of having you completely?” Lavellan shakes her head. “Thirty four times I’ve spilled myself over my own hand thinking of how beautiful you’d look like this. For the first time in my life, my dreams cannot compare to the real thing.”

Lavellan gains confidence through Solas’s words and leans forward, almost coming in for a kiss but at the last second, she moves past Solas’s lips. Instead, she focuses on his ears; she licks a long strip from his jawline to the tip of his ears, noticing how Solas shivers and making him wonder how the hell she figured that out. She laughs while still moaning and gasping for more. “I knew you were sensitive here. Had to be, because I noticed how you pulled away the first time we kissed when I went to grab you,” She moves her thumb just underneath the other ear, making Solas jump in shock and pleasure. “Here.” She finishes, returning her mouth to latch onto Solas’s helix. She licks a circle around the apex of his damned ears, running her tongue up and down the ridge before returning to his lips. “Imagine what else my mouth can do.” Her breath mixes with his as both of them pant, although Solas does close his eyes momentarily to see the picture she’s painted. 

Solas bites his lip, almost drawing blood by how close he’s come to cumming over himself. Both of them are sweating now, Lavellan’s pristine hair stuck to her forehead. “Fenedhis–” She presses her knee against Solas’ cock again as she moves her clit down onto him, “–Fuck–”, he groans loudly as her pace quickens and she begins to babble quietly in his ear. If someone had walked in on them, Solas was too preoccupied to notice.

“I’m going to–I think I’m gonna–” Solas nods approvingly while Lavellan’s release reaches its peak. Solas closes his eyes, tears forming in the corners as he pleads with himself to hold off for just a bit longer. In a final move of complete desperation and arousal, Solas latches onto Lavellan’s neck.

And bites.

Lavellan yelps and it’s what finally sends her over the edge. She cums on Solas’s thigh, stuttering and gripping onto him while he licks at the marks his teeth had left. Both of them are moaning, although Lavellan has the sense to cover her mouth. When she finally comes down from her orgasm, Solas leans back to examine his work. Lavellan looks down and breathlessly laughs. “I made a bit of a mess.” Is all she says, and Solas lifts her momentarily to examine her handiwork.

Solas’s thigh is so soaked that Lavellan’s juices had even begun to pool next to Solas in those final moments. He smiles softly and pats Lavellan approvingly. “It is an easy enough task to warm my hands and dry my clothes, as I have done before. Do not worry.” Lavellan moves to get up off of Solas and onto her knees in front of him, but he stops her. “As much as the thought entices me, and believe me when I say it does, I’ve stolen enough of your time tonight.” She crinkles her brow in confusion, and gestures towards Solas’s groin where his erection is clearly visible, and pre-cum has even started leaking through his trousers. 

“Ah.” He says, and while he does entertain the thought longer than he should have, he still shakes his head. “This was for you, not for me. And besides,” He stands up and kisses Lavellan. “I can’t imagine there won’t be more opportunities for me to catch up.” Lavellan snorts, giving another kiss to Solas before smoothing down her attire and hair. 

“How do I look?” She asked sarcastically.

“Magnificent.” Solas responds, moving closer to brush her hair with his fingertips. He plants a gentle kiss on her forehead. She seems to be remembering something and laughs; Solas tilts his head in a silent question.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you curse like that. I didn’t think ‘fuck’ was even in your vocabulary.” Solas’s cheeks flush red and he coughs in surprise.

“Yes, well…” He stammers underneath Lavellan’s stare. “You bring out a part in me I thought I put away long ago.” Solas smiles lightly. “And that part is inclined to curse, occasionally, when underneath a fascinating woman such as yourself.” This time, Solas is the one to let go. He nods towards the Library entrance, and Lavellan sighs before squeezing his hand and stepping quietly into the hallway. He waits until he can no longer hear her footsteps before sitting down and throwing his head back against the couch. The late hour and sudden physical activity has him utterly spent.

The elf looks down, his cock practically bursting against his leg and begging to be taken care of. “I’m not that depraved.” He murmurs. Solas’s eyes close, and while he tries to think of more important matters, he can’t remove the image of Lavellan on top of him from his mind. The way she bounced on his lap, how her mouth felt against him, makes Solas bite his knuckles to hold back a moan. How she jittered when he marked her, claiming the Inquisitor all for himself as her neck bloomed with purple splotches from his sharp teeth and how quickly her release came from an action that felt as natural to Solas as blinking. Solas breathes in, then out through his nose, attempting to bring himself back to reality, but he can’t help but recall the offer she left on the table before Lavellan took her leave. Her lips would look so pretty wrapped around him, gagging and moaning as she would try to take him all the way, his tip hitting the back of her throat—

Solas jolts suddenly as his orgasm hits him like a slap against the face, the dark stain of cum now spreading down his thigh. Solas bites down hard on his palm, unable to fully hold his voice back as the smallest movement against his trousers prolongs his release even further. When the immense pleasure finally subsides, Solas opens one eye hesitantly to assess the damage. He groans into his hands, a conjured flame able to dry his clothes but not the Orlesian, and definitely expensive, couch.

It’s hours later when the morning sun rises over Halamshiral that the Inquisition takes their leave. Solas blearily rubs his eyes and yawns, although when he catches Lavellan’s smile he can’t help but reciprocate despite his weariness. The Iron Bull looks between the pair before laughing and slapping Solas on the shoulder. “Sleep well?” He asks simply, although Solas knows the Bull well enough to know that his questions are never simple.

“No, I had a long night.” Solas quips, eager to head back to Skyhold and be as far away from the Winter Palace as possible. The unspoken part being that he is more eager to finish what he started mere hours before.

“Yeah? Spend some time cleaning in the library?” The Iron Bull asks, looking at the way Solas and the Inquisitor blanche before guffawing loudly. As he walks away he shakes his head. “You guys are not fucking subtle.” 

[bg3daydream]

Rumors and Facts 2/3 (Solavellan Fanfiction)

Solas x Female Inquisitor Lavellan Fanfiction.

Summary: +18 (Rated explicit) Lavellan is tired of the rumors that she hears around Skyhold regarding her relationship with Solas, and with all the gossip surrounding her at the Winter Palace. It's nobody's business, and besides, she's done hiding.

There's 3 chapters, with chapters 1 and 3 containing smut, and there's fluff through the whole fic. Chapter 1 is set in Skyhold and chapters 2 and 3 are set in the Winter Palace.

Find chapter 1 and chapter 3

Lavellan hadn’t been at the Winter Palace for more than ten minutes, she hadn’t even gone past the gardens and into the palace itself, and she was already fed up with people. They stared at her with no shame, neither had they any shame to talk about her as if she weren’t there, not caring that she heard their venomous comments.

Some were doubting she was actually the Inquisitor, considering she was dalish, while others had no problem calling her a savage elf. She wanted to snap at them, make them eat their words, and it was probably obvious on her face. Josephine was hovering near her, looking half-apologetic for what they were saying, half-alarmed that the Inquisitor may talk back.

Solas moved closer to Lavellan, though he didn’t touch her. He’d kept his hands to himself since approaching the palace, and Lavellan knew that both he and Josephine didn’t want the Inquisitor’s reputation maybe taking a hit by rumors of her and the elven apostate. Lavellan understood and yet, it was difficult to agree.

“Don’t concern yourself with them,” Solas told her quietly. “Not worthy.”

Lavellan took a deep breath and nodded. She could do this. She’d done worse and faced enemies more dangerous. She’d walked out of the Fade alive, twice. She’d survived all that, she could not only survive this but come on top too. She’d trained with Josephine, and so no matter she felt revolted by it, she’d play this so-called Game as she’d taught her and come out victorious.

“I’ll go first, say I’m the bodyguard,” the Iron Bull said, stepping in front of her and Josephine, and behind Cullen, who seemed rather uncomfortable too. “So everyone can look first at the big, mean qunary and be too busy to talk bullshit about you too.”

As so many times before, Lavellan felt a rush of affection and gratitude for her qunary friend. He wouldn’t have to suffer all this, the ball, the looks, and the talks, Lavellan wouldn’t have asked, but he’d offered when he’d seen her worry.

Dorian had offered too, and he had joined Josephine in her preparation of Lavellan for this. He said he too had experience with balls and mean gossiper aristocrats, and with people saying horrible things about you to your face, and that he knew how to navigate that world. Lavellan knew it to be true, but like with Iron Bull, she hadn’t wished Dorian to have to go through this, she knew people would give him a hard time for being tevinter and a mage. He’d insisted.

Everything was a mess and she hated where she was, but Lavellan had to admit, she’d good advisors and companions, and better friends. She was grateful for it.

Dorian was right behind her, seeming unpreoccupied and relaxed, though Lavellan wasn’t sure how much of it was facade. Two women were staring at him with wrinkled noses while clearly talking to each other about him. Dorian first gave them a polite nod, then a wink, which seemed to ruffle them more.

“Aaah��just like being back home,” Dorian said with mocked cheerfulness. “Just stand proud, Inquisitor, but be charming and polite…they’ll have it harder to attack you then, and it’d make them madder.”

“Let’s get inside,” Josephine said quietly, her polite smile not faltering as she endured comments about the Inquisition, greeting people and navigating Lavellan and the others through them. “Leliana’s already there, and we better keep an eye on Gaspar.”

*

Once inside, things hadn’t gone better. So much gossip and mean-spirited conversation, along with so many people wanting to talk to the Inquisitor about this and that. There were also those who refused to acknowledge her, like she were blighted. Lavellan didn’t know what was worse, and there was still no word on the potential infiltrators threatening the empress' life.

At least, she’d gotten to see Leliana playing the Game, she seemed so different from Skyhold, and she encouraged Lavellan to gather more gossip. She said it was leverage against nobles and it’d help them in Court, but Lavellan thought she enjoyed the gossip too, even if just a bit.

She’d also had the chance to meet Josephine’s sister, nice yet so different from her, and to hear her talk about Josephine’s childhood was as delightful for Lavellan as mortifying for Josephine.

“Everything alright, Inquisitor?” 

Josephine asked as she wandered towards her yet again, after she was cornered by some nobles who seemed to believe she ought to do something about the ideas their elven servants may get now that the Inquisitor was an elf.

She’d walked away, which was not polite, but it was better than whatever she may have said to them, she didn’t think she’d have been able to keep it nice. If she’d opened her mouth, Josephine’d have probably had a heart attack.

At least they were not openly ogling her and lusting after her like the group that had cornered poor Cullen. He seemed so uncomfortable and out of place…maybe she should make up some emergency and rescue him. 

“It’s bad that I wish assassins would show up already and all this can end?” She said, and Josephine’s sister let out a giggle. Lavellan knew she didn’t understand why she didn’t enjoy the ball, though, she was elated to be there.

“Everything’s calm for now,” Josephine said, looking around as she smiled and waved politely.

“Yes, our people haven’t reported anything yet.” Maybe she could go ask Cullen again, but she had no desire to try to navigate the people gathered around him. “Do you think I could go back to the hall and gardens, talk to the others, try to find something? I’m of no use here.” She was getting antsy with the waiting and so many eyes and sharp tongues on her.

“Sure, but be back when you hear the bell, don't be late, please Inquisitor.” It sounded more like a command than a polite request. Lavellan liked it when Josephine got bossy, she jokingly called it “polite threatening.”

“Promised.”

*

Outside the main ballroom, there was gossip and staring too, although less eyes were on her as people seemed engrossed talking to each other.

Lavellan saw Solas near a window, leaning against a column, glass in hand. He seemed more at ease and content than she’d expected. She made her way to him, trying to blend in and not attract attention.

“Hey.”

“Inquisitor.” Solas gave her a polite nod.

“How are you? Are you being treated well?” Lavellan could ignore the comments about her, even if they made her mad, but if they talked badly about someone she loved, she wasn’t sure she could keep it civil much longer.

Solas shrugged and smiled. “The Orlesians don’t quite know what to make of me. I try not to give them room to critique the Inquisition on my account.” He lifted his drink to his lips. “The food and drink are excellent, however, and the servants are happy to refill my glass.”

“Why’d you have them introduce you as the Inquisitors’ elven servant?” Lavellan asked, it’d annoyed her.

“Am I not but your servant, Lady Inquisitor Lavellan?” Solas joked and Lavellan huffed, rolling her eyes.

She couldn’t help a small smile, though, she loved it when Solas’ eyes wrinkled when he was amused sometimes, like now, but there was also something else in his eyes, that reminded her of how he looked at her when she was at his desk…Lavellan better not recall that if she wanted to keep her composure.

“Well…someone did call you ‘the Inquisitor’s pet mage’ so…” She tried to joke back, but it made her grimace, she’d wanted to use an anchor blast on that gossiper couple, if that was even possible. “Seriously, though, you could have just told them you were an Inquisition mage.” There was already gossip about the Inquisition employing apostates anyway.

“Have you seen how these people treat their elven servants?” Solas said and Lavellan nodded, it sickened her. “They act like they’re not people. Then they’re careless, talking about everything around their servants as if they can’t hear them. I’d hoped they’d do the same around me, that they’d say things they wouldn’t in front of you and your advisors, so maybe I could learn something useful for you. Leliana agreed,” Solas explained. “Sadly, I don’t have the look of one of their servants, so it’s not working.”

“That's smart.” Lavellan had to admit it, but she still hated hearing people call Solas her servant.

“If you want to find something useful, pay attention to the servants,” Solas said, raising his glass, and one of the servants came to refill it, although she avoided the Inquisitor’s eyes. Solas took a sip of his wine and relaxed against the column again, looking around the room, seeming so calm and collected, Lavellan was envious with how on edge she’d been feeling.

“You seem more comfortable with a grand Orlesian ball than I’d have expected.”

“I’ve seen countless such displays in my journeys in the Fade. The powerful have always been the same, only the costumes change.”

“Oh, that’s right, your Fade balls and dancing with spirits,” Lavellan half-teased. “So… you’re dancing with me tonight, right?”

Solas sighed. “I wish. But you need to win these people over and dancing with an elven apostate will win you few favors here. Perhaps later, when this is over?”

“Later…” Lavellan arched an eyebrow and leaned closer to Solas, lowering her voice so nobody else could hear her. “So, when this is over, you’ll come to my room and we can dance, then?”

Solas leaned towards her too. “Perhaps,” he said quietly, looking at her in a way that made her heart almost skip a beat, and warmth spread through Lavellan.

They hadn’t done anything like that night at Solas’ rotunda again. With everyone busy preparing everything for the ball, eyes and ears everywhere, and so much of her time devoted to it, for the last few days, they’d been lucky if they got a moment for themselves.

Then, during the journey to the palace, Solas had kept his distance. Lavellan understood why but she didn’t think it mattered, pretty much everyone accompanying them seemed to know about them, and the nobles at court were going to gossip anyway.

At least, they had the Fade. Lavellan wasn’t sure how it worked, but whenever they both were asleep, more often than not, either one of them seemed able to wander into the other’s dream, and so they could spend time together, away from everyone else.

Lavellan was pretty content letting Solas walk her around the Fade, to snuggle to him while he told her things about it, but she couldn’t wait for the chance to be alone with him out of dreams again too.

It might not be proper, sneaking Solas into the Inquisitor’s bed, but she didn’t care. She felt silly butterflies fluttering in her belly at the thought of it…whether things turned more intimate or not, at least she’d try her best to sleep next to Solas that night.

Solas looked to the side and pulled back and away from Lavellan, straightening. She looked in that direction too and noticed a couple of nobles eyeing them with interest. She was about to tell Solas that she didn’t care that they might stare and talk about them, but probably Solas what right, whether she liked it or not, that evening she needed that people’s support.

“I hope you enjoy the ball, Inquisitor,” Solas said, dismissing her, and Lavellan tried not to sigh. “Don’t let me take more of your time.”

“I’ll see if I can find anything useful,” Lavellan said, back to business…they had a job to do there, after all, preventing a murder seemed more important than mingling with nobles showing off like peacocks. “Be ready, I’ll let you all know if I find something.”

Solas nodded and Lavellan turned to leave. “Hunt well,” Solas said as she walked away, and Lavellan couldn’t help her smirk at him.

She looked around to room. Some nobles were talking to each other, seeming quite busy to pay attention to her. She should try to eavesdrop on what seemed like an important conversation. Others were trying to pretend that they were not looking and talking about her, while others openly stared.

She spotted the Iron Bull by the end of the room, eating some of those bittersweet nuts, and she approached him.

“How are you doing, Bull?”

He grunted, popping another nut into his mouth. “These nobles keep trying to mess with me thinking I don’t know what they’re doing. If we don’t find something to kill soon, I may use one of their skulls as my new fancy mask.”

Lavellan knew she shouldn’t, but she snorted a giggle. “I feel you.”

“Yeah, I see how they look at you, and the bullshit they say to your face,” Iron Bull scoffed, shaking his head. “Any news?”

“Nothing regarding the assassins. You’re the Ben-Hassrath, tell me what you’ve seen.”

She was half-joking, but she trusted the Iron Bull instinct and experience for this. She didn’t think any assassins could wander around without him noticing it, just like she trusted Solas and Dorian would notice it if there was something magical going on.

“I’ll tell you what I’ve seen.” the Iron Bull's serious look turned amused. “I’ve seen you and Solas, just right now. You two start making out? Not even me and my horns can distract people from it.”

“Iron Bull!” 

Lavellan scolded him with a hissed whisper, even though she knew it was her fault that she had leaned a bit too close to Solas, her mind full of daydreams...probably the Iron Bull didn’t have any trouble reading all her thoughts about Solas just by looking at her. 

“Please don’t start, I have enough with Sera and Dorian.”

“I don’t judge, boss,” the Iron Bull kept his friendly teasing. “You deserve a good tumble later on for dealing with this vipers' nest.”

“Shh!” Lavellan hushed him, embarrassed and worried that someone might hear him, but she couldn’t help the silly giggle that escaped her lips. Would Solas think too that she deserved a good tumble? “Stop it!”

“Alright, alright…but I have nothing of use for you.” Iron Bull shrugged. “All I can tell you is who hates who, who fancies who, who’s sleeping with whom…”

“Tell all that to Leliana, she seems to think all this gossip will be useful for us…I think she enjoys it too.”

“Got it, boss.”

*

By the end of the evening, Lavellan had dealt with several attempted assassinations and several actual murders, she’d been asked once again to decide on things that’d affect people way beyond her reach, and politics had once more changed.

Yet, to her amazement, the ball kept going, now celebrating what was supposedly a victory for Orlais. Lavellan couldn’t understand these people. But sure, most of the victims had been servant elves, so what would the Orlesian nobles care for it, beyond being understaffed. This place still sickened Lavellan, even if she’d tried to play The Game to win, and she succeeded.

She was now at the balcony, alone, feeling tired and done, hoping she’d mingled with the nobles enough, she didn’t think she could keep her polite mask much longer. She’d just finished dealing with Morrigan, whom Lavellan still didn’t know what to think about, when Solas walked into the balcony.

“I’m not surprised to find you here,” Solas said, placing a hand on the small of her back. “Are you alright, vhenan?”

Lavellan nodded. “I’m just tired. I think I’ve done enough chatting and pretending around to win these people’s favor and support for the Inquisition.” She didn’t want to let her advisors down, but she didn’t think she could keep going with it for much longer that night.

“You did.” Solas nodded with a smile. “I heard some people saying how delightful the Inquisitor is.”

“You’re kidding.” Lavellan frowned but Solas shook his head no. “Oh, then, they meant delightful for a savage elf.”

Solas chuckled, shaking his head again and pulling her close with the hand on her back to give her lips a soft kiss, and Lavellan felt like she was able to relax for the first time that evening. When he pulled back, he vowed at her.

“Dance with me, vhenan.”

No matter how tired she was, Lavellan couldn’t help her smile and the butterflies in her belly. “I’d love to.”

Solas smiled too, pulling her close, and for a while, they danced together to the muffled sound of the band, coming from the ballroom. Lavellan’d have happily danced with him for the remaining of the ball, perhaps with stops here and there to kiss him again, but Dorian’s voice interrupted them.

“Nice form, I wasn’t expecting you to know how to dance, Solas,” he teased and Solas brisked, pulling away from Lavellan. “It doesn’t suit the whole hobo apostate thing you have going on.”

Solas glared at Dorian and Lavellan knew he was about to snap, so she talked first. “Shut it you both, no mage bickering at the Winter Palace.” She tried to sound as commanding as Josephine.

“It was a compliment.” Dorian shrugged with a teasing smile.

“I’m not putting up with two tipsy mages arguing,” Lavellan teased back, but who knew, if they started with their who’s got the biggest staff contest, they may send the whole place into the Fade somehow.

“I’m not tipsy!” Solas huffed, sounded almost offended, and Lavellan tried not to laugh but she couldn’t help her snort.

“Yes, you are.” She smiled, reaching to cup Solas' cheek. “But I think you look adorable like this.” Solas looked like he might snap but all he did was lean into her touch as she caressed his cheek, proving her point.

“Please, have some decency, I’m still right here,” Dorian said in mocked offense. Lavellan knew he didn’t judge or mind their relationship, and she knew she could count on his support.

“Did someone send you to come fetch me?” Lavellan sighed, her smile and joking tone has gone at the idea of having to go back inside.

“Afraid so.” Dorian gave her a sympathetic look. “Some have noticed your absence and are inquiring Josephine about it. Still, she didn’t want to force you back if you don’t feel like it.”

“No, I… I’ll be back in a moment.” Lavellan sighed. She was the Inquisitor, her advisors and companions shouldn’t have to deal with inquiring people and worried or plainly nosy nobles. The night was almost over, she could keep going for a bit longer.

“Besides, it seemed you owed some dances?” Dorian asked, smirking and chuckling at Lavellan’s grimace. “I’ll get going, I might need to save Cullen, I heard someone trying to convince him how marriage with his youngest daughter was the best plan of action.”

Lavellan couldn’t help her sympathetic smile. Poor Cullen was having a horrible night, he’d hated every second of it, without even the chance to escape the nobles to fight the assassins.

“Please, go save my commander.”

Dorian vowed to them, half joking but equally charming anyway, and he turned back into the palace.

“We should get back too,” Lavellan said regretfully, taking Solas’ hand as if for moral support and giving it a gentle tug. “I’ll talk and dance with whoever I have to but save my last dance for you, come on.”

Solas let go of her hand. “We shouldn’t. You just earned these people's favor, if you’re seen with the elven apostate now and they talk-”

“They’re already talking,” Lavellan interrupted. She was tired of everyone acting like they had a say on her love life or if she was allowed one. “I’m pretty sure. That orlesian couple who’s always at Skyhold’s hall is here, and they’ve been talking about us for a while, I’m sure they’ve been happy to gossip about us to anyone willing to listen.”

She’d always found that couple nosy and annoying, but the Inquisitor couldn’t really ask the orlesians nobles to leave without causing some ruffle.

“They’ve been talking about us?” Solas seemed half-surprised, half-horrified, and Lavellan tried not to smile.

He usually knew everything that was going on, he always had an answer for everything, yet he seemed so clueless about it, Lavellan had to wonder where his head had been.

“Yes,” she confirmed. “At first it seemed we weren’t interesting enough, being just these two savage elves…” She mocked an expression of disdain, like the nobles had been wearing when they first saw her at the palace, and she was glad when Solas’ eyes wrinkled. “They much preferred a highborn scandal.”

At first, Lavellan hadn’t really realized they were talking about her, but from then on, she’d noticed them staring at her when they thought she wasn’t looking, whispering and quietly giggling, and so she’d caught on…it wasn’t surprising after the rumors at the tavern, but annoying nonetheless.

“But then it seemed we caught their interest. Apparently, there’s been ‘exchanges’ between us’.” She was still not sure of what they were even talking about, and she shrugged when Solas arched a questioning eyebrow. “Apparently we’ve been exchanging gifts of a short, betrothals even.”

“And I had no idea we were!” Solas pretended to be shocked and Lavellan laughed, although she felt flustered that people were gossiping about betrothals, and she was glad Solas wasn’t asking about it. She wondered if it might fluster him too.

“They’re just nosy gossipers,” Lavellan said, trying not to dwell on the actual gossip. “But���with them around, I’m sure people’s talking about us.”

“I am sorry, vhenan, the Inquisitor’s reputation-”

“Stop with that and don’t be sorry,” Lavellan interrupted him. “I am not sorry for one of the very few good things in my life right now and I don’t care what people think about it, I’m not going to hide.”

It seemed Solas was going to say something, some sort of emotion seemed to go through his eyes at her words, but he didn’t, and instead, he leaned to kiss her.

“You know,” Lavellan began when their lips parted. “In my clan, you should only exchange gifts with your family and your spouse or betrothal.” Of course, as so many other social rules, more often than not they tended to ignore it and give gifts to friends. “And kissing someone you’re not bonded to? Tsk, tsk…If these rumors reach my clan, I'm in bigger trouble than with these orlesians hearing them,” she joked.

Solas smiled softly at her joking, but he seemed pensive, as if her words had given him thought, and Lavellan half regretted telling him about it. She couldn’t help but wonder, though, what would her clan make of Solas and their relationship… She’d not seen them in so long, sometimes she wondered if she’d ever be back. 

She didn’t want to think about it right now, she had enough on her plate, and so she reached for Solas' hand again and put on a smile.

“Come on…time we went back to charm these people.”

*

NA:

You can think they went have and behave all proper or you can think they went back and...held hands sometimes, so scandalous, maybe even danced. I hope she danced not only with Solas but with Dorian and Iron Bull too, quite the scandal, but she might be throw out of court.

I worked hard on this fic, it was out of my comfort zone, and I hope some of you can enjoy it, please check the other chapters if you missed them and thanks for taking the time to read this.

If you liked it, please let me know in a comment, and as always, reblogs are more than welcome.

I'm not usually a smut writer, it's not my thing, I'm usually a fluff, hurt/comfort person, but I don't know what Solavellan has done to me.

I hope they can have their happy ending, but I'll have to write it if they don't.

Excuse my English, it’s not my first language.

[scarfacemarston]

Pride Month Requests!

My specialties are character x reader mainly because I've never received requests for ships and I'm not experienced in it! If you don't see a character, I can still likely write it. For male characters it will be MLM Reader x character and WLW for female characters. (Trans characters hcs and readers always included. Edit: Non Binary and gender neutral also welcome!) Reblogs appreciated! SFW preferred.

Characters: Bucky Barnes x Reader Steve Rogers x Reader

Natasha Romanoff x Reader Yelena Belova x Reader Peggy Carter x Reader Arthur Morgan x Reader John Marston x Reader Anakin Skywalker x Reader Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

Hawke x Fenris Hawke x Isabela Hawke x Merill Dorian Pavus x Inquisitor Cullen Rutherford x Inquisitor Cassandra x Inquisitor Leliana x Warden

More by Request!

[xxcherrydevilxx]

Required Dance

Pairing & Fandom - Female Lavellan x Solas from Dragon age Word count - 4306

warning - N/A, just fluff really

Summary

Lumine Lavellan is not someone cut out for charming the nobles, thats not what she signed up for. She didn't sign up for any of this but- she certainly did not want to go to some Winter Palace event with some Duke she would have to tolerate. Can't she just... stay home? leave this to the responsible ones? no? and she has to go to lessons leading up to the event? Maker's breath... At least she has her friends and Solas to help her come to terms with this.

Author Notes - Really just wanted to do a bit of character study and fool around with my Inky, somewhat happy with how this came out though theres areas I would have liked to done better. I picture the Fade Kiss scene happening after she goes to sleep, might write that if I want to but who knows! for anyone reading enjoy <3 Banner used below is by CafeKitsune!

“Can’t you do it for me, Josie, I’m busy that day,” Lumine drawled, slumped over the war table as Cullen and Leliana exchanged looks. 

“I have not told you the day the Winter Ball will take place, Inquisitor,” Josephine replied. The slightest hint of exasperation in her tone, which Lumine was unaware of as she continued to fiddle with the letter opener beside a discarded envelope. 

“I’m busy whatever day it is- go in my absence, you are better with nobility than me anyways…” Lumine continued, spinning the small blade between her fingers. The letter that needed the small knife was laid in the middle of the table, and it was the offender of today’s meeting. It held the crest from Gaspard, an invitation to Empress Celene’s ball. Josephine had expressed with much care both the importance and political moves at play with such an invitation. 

“Inquisitor you are required to be there, this event calls for your attention and is of utmost importance,” Josephine argued back, pushing the letter in front of Lumine as she did so. 

“I'm an elf, Josephine. Please do not tell me that key detail is lost on you,” Lumine grumbled, as Cullen coughed beside her before interjecting. 

“And a mage. A mage elf. Going to the Winter Palace.” Lumine nodded vigorously to Cullen’s point, returning the letter to the middle of the table. 

“Exactly! Two things nobles hate! I am saved to go about my business and you can take the fancy invitation and work your advisor magic,” 

Lumine made to stand, finally resting the blade across the letter as she threw the commander a small smile. She was stopped, however, when her eyes drifted to Josephine, the twitch of her brow and the small frown lines forming around her mouth made her, begrudgingly, sit back down. 

“Inquisitor Lavellan, you cannot shirk this duty off to me. As much as I enjoy being the strength in areas like this, I can’t. You must be there.” Josephine stated, her voice clear with clarity that allowed for no argument. 

That did not mean Lumine would go along without pouting. 

“But- I need my advisor's guidance, how am I supposed to be there alone? I’d get myself killed, or worse, ruin our reputation,” She whined insistently, standing up again with her hands splayed across the table for dramatic effect. Josephine dutifully scribbled something down with her ink and pen before clearing her throat. 

“That is why all of your advisors will be going with you, I will also need to train you in matters of court etiquette… and certainly get a tailor for the event…” As she trailed off she made more hurried notes with her quill as Lumine balked at the prospect of lessons and a seamstress. 

“Josie please-” she was cut off with the stern glare given by Leliana as she tapped her finger against the war table just once; a warning and a threat all in one. 

“I will send a schedule to your quarters once they are worked out. Thank you for agreeing to this, Inquisitor,” Josephine said. Josephine made for the door, Leliana holding it open for her as they went. Cullen shot her a sad look before patting her back and trailing off after them. As Lumine let her head hit the table in defeat, she could hear the Commander’s voice faintly through the door, asking if he really had to go to the Winter Palace as well. 

____________________________

She had found herself in the tavern that night, drinking her woes into several cups of liquor. Her usual drinking buddies Bull, and the Chargers, found her recent reason for misery delightful. 

“Yeah, you’re fucked boss, sorry to say,” Bull laughed clinking his tankard against Lumine’s as she pulled it away with a scowl. She looked down into her mug, the alcohol almost gone for the fifth time that night, 

“Shut up, will you? She's going to put me in a dress, how am I even supposed to know how to talk to nobles who hate me for even being there… Maker, what if they think I'm one of the servants,” Lumine groaned into her empty drink, raising the cup into the air to signal a much-needed refill. 

“I don’t know, maybe a fancy outfit will keep that assumption at bay,” Krem, the kind second hand to Bull added. Lumine shot him a small smile as a bar maiden appeared to fill her cup before walking behind Bull, one of her hands trailing his broad shoulders. Bull tracked the maiden with his eyes as she made her rounds to other rowdy tables. 

“It’s not fair… you get to stay here and flirt and drink and I’m forced to intermingle with people who want my head on a pike,” Lumine grumbled as she watched the flirtatious display with a frown. She gulped down a good mouthful of liquor before her addled mind came up with a brilliant idea. 

If this event was of “utmost” importance, and she was allowed to bring her advisors…

“You know what, Bull? I quite like the idea of you coming with me to the Winter Palace. I will need a bodyguard…” She snickered as she watched Bull choke on his drink. Krem let out a loud laugh before raising his glass, and the rest of the Chargers shouted their agreement. 

“Wonderful idea Inquisitor Lavellan, I wholeheartedly approve,” Krem said, his voice loud enough to hear over the excited Chargers. Bull pushed his shoulder hard into Krem, making Krem spill his drink in his lap. 

“Hell no, boss you need me here to keep these brats in line,” Bull shot back, which only made her smile turn up into a cat-like grin. If she was forced to sift through the nobles then she was going to be bringing people who would keep her entertained. 

“I think I should let Josie know you will also be needing a tailor to come by,” Lumine added, another roar of laughter followed from the chargers as Bull’s eyes narrowed at her. She gave another delighted giggle, folding her hands underneath her chin as she watched him try to find a way out of this. She had to sweeten the deal somehow, she was nice when it mattered. She held up one finger in front of him, cutting him off before she could say anything and also stilling the jabs from his crew.

“If, and only if you do this for me I will let you and the Chargers pick whichever dragon you want to hunt and I will personally help you slay it,” she said, pressing her finger against his lip before pulling it away with another smirk. She could tell it worked, he looked to Krem who shrugged his shoulders, then to the rest of the Chargers. He sighed and pressed a hand to his forehead before replying. 

“It better be one big fucking dragon,” cheers erupted around him with beer sloshing out of raised cups. Lavellan raised hers too in celebration, a smile untampered with the duty of being the Inquisitor gracing her face.

____________________________

“Lumine you’re fucking hammered,” Someone had said into her ear, she cocked her head before leaning against the person. 

“Nah, just lightly… Smashed,” Lumine teased, looking up to find Krem staring down at her with a tired, yet amused expression. She gave him one of her charming smiles, which he brushed off with ease as he helped hoist her to her feet.

“Chief told me to get you back to your room before you drink yourself into a stupor,” He continued, his hands lingering in front of Lumine as she swayed from left to right. She let out a little laugh at Krem’s comment and began to move. She thought she had the hang of it, really, but somehow she got twisted up on her own feet and was mere seconds away from crashing to the wood floors before Krem grabbed her arm to help steady her. She felt weak in his arms as he put another hand around her middle to help her walk.

“Yeah, hammered, let's get you to bed before Josephine bans you from the tavern,” Lumine was dully aware of him leading her out into the biting cold of Skyhold and up the steps to the main hall. She saw him pass by the rotunda and immediately slurred out a command to turn around. She had not forgotten the kindness shown to her last time when something similar occurred from the wise apostate, and she wanted to see if it would hold true a second time.

“Take me to Solas,” she mumbled, gesturing with her head to the door. Krem gave her a strange look before heaving a sigh and turning them around. Lumine let out an elated sound in the back of her throat, earning a laugh from Krem.

“So Chief wasn’t making up your crush then, I take it?” Krem teased, opening the door to the rotunda with the toe of his boot. Lumine shushed him loudly, pressing a hand over his mouth and dipping back in mock offense at the claim. She almost fully fell out of his grasp before he tightened his hold on her waist. 

“Inquisitor,” A voice echoed across to them, making Lumine snap her head to his usual haunt. The desk, however, was empty and made her face twist into a frown. She scanned the rest of the room, increasingly getting more agitated with each pass that did not show Solas. She let out a huff, and Krem used his other hand to angle her chin upwards to where he sat on scaffolding. His eyes held a quiet disdain for the both of them, as he nodded to Krem.

“One of Bulls men, yes? Why have you brought the Inquisitor here instead of her chambers,” Solas questioned, his eyes trained on the hand wrapped around Lumine’s waist as Krem led them both more inside the rotunda. As he did, Lumine let out a happy hum to fully be in the space, the frescos comforting and the veilfire lulling her into peace.

“She- she asked to come here instead, I can take her-” Krem began before Solas stopped him. He angled his head towards the small loveseat before speaking.

“Leave her then, I have handled her like this before. It could be the reason she has sought me out,” As he spoke Krem did as he was told. Leading her to the couch before helping her sit. She gave his hand that was pulling away a friendly pat, trying to put together words as thanks which only came out as a hum of approval. Krem let out a soft laugh before retreating several paces away. Solas watched him as he left, his eyes never leaving the man until he heard the click of the door. 

“Solas!” She beamed, staring up at him from where he was perched. When he was assured of Krem’s departure, he finally turned his head to look down at her from across the room. His eyes held a hint of curiosity as he made to climb down the scaffolding, whatever task he was doing pushed aside in favor of her.

“Inquisitor Lavellan, might I ask why you seek me out when you are drunk?” he said once his feet were on solid ground. Moving quietly across the space before stopping at his desk, his hand braced on the edge as if to will himself to stop there. She watched this with a hint of sadness, her hopes of him lulling her to sleep dashed in an instant.

She was quite tired of this song and dance of  “Will they or won’t they?” that Solas had kept up despite their discussion before. She was still vaguely aware of the conversation, but she remembered with clarity the feeling of his lips brushing against the back of her hand. She wanted him to do it again, or better yet to kiss her fully on the lips. She wanted to stand and walk to him with such confidence it might make him hold his breath. To take his hand that was gripped so tightly against his desk and thread it through her short white hair. Instead, she just said with the saddest expression on her face. 

“I need to go to the Winter Palace” her voice wavered as she did, sniffling a bit as she pulled up her legs to hold them against her chest. She didn't know why she suddenly felt so sad, perhaps it was because her hopes of romance were foolish, or that she had to do silly lessons and have someone take her measurement, or maybe-

“Lethallan, why are you crying?” Solas spoke softly. She had not noticed him move to be beside her, his hand hovering over her back as she wiped at her eyes. When had she started crying? Maker, she must truly be wasted.

“I don’t… Sorry, I don’t know, I think it's the liquor and the frustration from today,” the words bubbled out of her before she could stop them. Somehow, and gods she wished to know why, she always seemed to talk easier with Solas at her side. It befuddled her on their first meeting, the way they slid into harmony as the world was crashing down around them. At first, she believed it to just be because they were both of The People, yet as time continued she noted how she would seek his counsel more and more. Maybe that's why she had truly come here, to seek guidance when dealing with humans and The Game. 

“A letter came, an invitation to the Winter Palace to attend a ball, Solas I have no clue how to conduct myself around such bloodthirsty people,” her voice was soft, her eyes trained on the cobbled stone floor, she hated admitting that she was more or less afraid. She was the Inquisitor, the Herald of Andraste, and she was afraid of humans? If these were humans on the battlefield or in a tavern she knew she could cut them down with either her magic or sharp insults. She couldn’t do that this time, she couldn’t wave her staff and kill any annoying men who ogled her, nor could she call any women who sneered at her “shemlen dogs.” 

A hand came to her back to rub soothing circles into her skin, and she startled at the touch. She had expected him, truthfully, to stay at arm's length due to whatever irrational fear he had of her. She hadn’t expected him to come near her when a few tears slipped down her face or expected a hand on her back when she finally tumbled through her complicated thoughts from this morning's meeting. His relaxing touch made the rest of the words she had trapped inside her rush out with each breath.

“Hahren I have never danced a waltz, I have never worn an Orlesian dress, I have never studied the ways of court or walked in those stilted shoes the women wear. I am not someone who can play politics, but I know they will all try and mold me into that image! I cannot handle another reflection that is not my own,” Lumine hadn’t meant to call Solas Hahren, it had rushed out of her like everything else. The silent comfort Solas was giving had just made the coil Lumine had stuffed deep down unravel and it reminded her so much of the elders in clan Lavellan. Despite her hangups about the keeper and her role in their clan, she still found comfort in their company when it mattered. She missed the feeling of community it gave her when she was alone under the stars with her clan. In the Inquisition she had no one to break down to like this, instead, she put on a mask at the war table and drank her worries under the table in the tavern with people she tentatively calls friends. Yet she still couldn’t open up to them about her deep worries, she wanted to enjoy their company without dragging them down into her deprecation. Maker, how did she play another version of herself even in her brief respite? 

A finger crooked itself under her chin to pull her gaze up and away from the floor. The tears still threatened to spill out of frustration and fear, but she had calmed herself enough not to seem like a mess in front of the one person she wanted to impress. 

“I have never seen you give up in the face of adversity, you are more clever and intelligent than you give yourself credit for, Lumine.” Solas began, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he continued. “Use those strengths to your advantage in ways that will allow you to position yourself above the nobles who sneer at you. You already have something at your disposal” He finished, pulling his hand away tentatively as his eyes bore into hers. She sucked in a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, her voice a whisper that fanned across his skin.

“And what, pray tell, is that Solas?” His hand drifted over the pointed tips of her ears, and she realized what he had meant. 

“It is an opportunity, to use your tricks, wisdom, and companions for gain. Bringing along such people would be wise, you have an established comradery with many of your… friends in Skyhold. If speaking with the nobles frightens you, then keep to the shadows. If they see you as something weak, prove them wrong–and if you have the opportunity to see them weak, you strike.” his voice coated her skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake as she shivered against the barely-there touch of his fingers. They sat there for a long while, staring at one another with respectable distance, though Lumine wished he would break his composure and hold her close. Could she really ask for that, though? He was already helping her so much as it was. Was she getting greedy with his care?

“You are so kind,” she spoke aloud. Her thoughts carried out of her as she watched him stand. He stiffened at her voice, his head turning slightly to acknowledge her comment before taking several steps away from his desk.

“I am not as kind as you think I am,” Solas replied. His voice sounded more distant than it had since Lumine had entered his space. She opened her mouth to issue a retort, but he cut her off. 

“I will go get Varric to help you to your chambers, along with a cup of water,” He said. His voice was curt as he rushed out of the room. Maker, what did I say wrong? Lumine groaned, letting her head fall back onto the couch. Every time she thought she was getting somewhere it felt like Solas would pull the rug out from under her. She could choose any other person in Skyhold, it would be much easier than this–save her much heartache too. Yet, even as the idea flitted across her mind, she felt her heart constrict… Damn it.  

____________________________

Varric was not pleased to open the door in the middle of the night to see Solas standing there with a particularly pained expression on his face. Varric furrowed his brows before running a hand over his face to wipe off some of the sleep still trapped behind his eyes.

“Chuckles, always a pleasure. Though I would like you to find me during normal hours,” Varric grumbled. 

“It's the Inquisitor,” Solas said. His hands folded behind his back as usual, and Varric stood up straighter at the mention of the other elf. 

“Shit–she okay?” Varric asked. He hurried to grab his shoes, slipping them on as he hobbled out the door. Knowing Lumine’s track record, Varric could only imagine what trouble she had gotten into. 

“She's drunk. In the rotunda.”  

“Shit, that it? Chuckles she’s always drunk,”  Varric turned to go back to bed, a yawn escaping as he went to close the door as he went. 

“I need you to get her to her room,” Varric groaned and turned back around. 

“Andraste's tits Solas, can’t you? Or get someone still awake?” Even when the words left his mouth Varric knew the answer would be no. He could see it written all over his face as Varric brushed past him. 

“She has to make an appearance at the Winter Palace in a few months,” Solas said as he followed behind. Varric laughed. He could picture it now: her either charming the entire court or attacking them all—probably the latter. 

____________________________

Maybe she should try being more into his interests? The whole… Fade and… History… thing. Try reading those boring books he always carried around with him or asked for. 

They aren’t always boring. He lends her some when he thinks it's a topic she would be interested in. He's usually right about her being more into them than some of the others. Maybe she's not intelligent enough. Does he like intelligent girls? 

Lumine stood on wobbly legs and attempted to go over to his desk. She stumbled and practically fell into the chair he usually sat at when she would come to find him. The chair was… comfortable, and old. She should get him a new chair, maybe she could steal one from the Winter Palace. How does one go about stealing a chair anyhow? Bull could probably help. Besides the worn chair, his desk was a cluttered mess of papers, books, maps and- 

A small piece of paper, tucked between several pages of an especially large book. She would have missed it if she were looking for anything other than a distraction

She glanced at the door and listened for footsteps before pulling the book in front of her and sliding the paper out of its hiding place. Lumine unfolded it. The writing was crisp and hurried—and more notably, not by Solas. Interesting. Who could be sending him missives? She thought he was a wandering apostate. 

A noise outside of the rotunda startled and almost made her lose the paper in the process. She hastily refolded the letter and placed it back between pages of the book before pushing it away from her. She debated whether to try to make her way back over to the couch when Varric and Solas both walked in on her standing and almost tipped over in her haste. 

“Woah there Charmer,” Varric said, reaching out an arm to stop her from falling. She laughed, using his arm and the desk to steady herself. She leveled a gaze at Solas, who was looking at the desk instead of her. 

“I wanted to do some light reading before bed,” She joked, yet his eyes still didn’t meet hers. Shit, was he pissed? Did he know? Should she apologize? 

“I heard about you being forced to go to the Winter Palace in a few months. You need a dashing rouge dwarf to accompany you?” Varric said, pulling Lumine out of her thoughts. He was patting her back and still helping steady her. Right, could she bring along Varric too? And if she could bring Varric and Bull, does that mean she could bring along Solas? 

“Perfect idea Varric, while we’re at it let's bring Solas along too.” Lumine laughed, leaning on Varric as she threw Solas a look, finally, he stared back. “I think making most of my companions non-human would do wonders for my reputation with the nobles,” Varric gave a hearty laugh at her idea while Solas scrunched up his brows. 

“Inquisitor Lavellan I don’t think-” Solas began before being cut off. 

“Ah ah ah~ you just said to use my strengths. Those strengths are the lovely friends I’ve made along the way,” Lumine said, wagging a finger in his face. She could see the argument building behind his eyes, but she could tell he held his tongue. 

“Of course, Inquisitor Lavellan, it is your decision,” Solas said, his voice unusually cold. He stepped out of Varric’s and Lumine’s way as Varric led her by the arm to the door. He rambled as he went, but Lumine was too focused on angling her head to keep one eye on Solas whose fingers ghosted across the tops of various books stacked on his desk. As Lumine was pulled through the door she made sure to call over her shoulder.

“Sleep well, my dear apostate,” his response to her kindness was silence. 

Later in the night as Lumine huddled into her too-big bed to have another sleepless night she heard the softest knock on her door. She opened it, surprised to find a note next to a glass of water at her doorstep. Lumine let out the softest of laughs as she kneeled to pick up the apology gift. She had almost forgotten Solas had said he was going to get her water, he must have snuck up the stairs to leave the drink before departing. How sweet.

She sat the water down on her bedside table as her eyes scanned the small note he left. 

I am sorry. I had forgotten our prior agreement. Please rest easy.

Curt, to the point. The letters swirled and arched in such beautiful handwriting as Lumine traced each one. She could tell though, as she had slipped and stolen every piece of paper he had ever jotted down on, that the last line was added slower than the first. Lumine grinned; sap, fool, so many names she felt for herself as she slid the paper onto her nightstand for safekeeping. As she laid down, attempting to “rest easy” her mind flittered back to the note she had snuck a glance at. 

She was right, it was not his handwriting. 

[dapolyshipping]

Nominations Update!

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Please provide gender and last name for Inquisitor and Warden, i.e. "Male Lavellan" and "Female Cousland"

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Cremisius "Krem" Aclassi/Lace Harding/Inquisitor

Inquisitor/Josephine Montilyet/Cullen Rutherford

Inquisitor/Leliana/Josephine Montilyet/Cullen Rutherford

Male Inquisitor/Dorian Pavus/Cullen Rutherford

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Anders/Fenris/Nonbinary Hawke

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[herald-divine-hell]

What's on Leliana's wall when she remembers she hasn't eaten that day. Truly, inspired.

[jazzmckay]

creator events prompts & info post

prompt masterposts:

ones im feeling most this week in purple

sharing a bed

heavy content prompts

50 types of kisses

artifacts of thedas

the Bad Things Happen bingo tropelist

100 ways to say i love you

smut prompts

februwhump 2025

anything from other lists in my prompts tag

i also have an inspo tag that can be perused for random ideas!

my protag romances, in order of hyperfixation level:

✨OC info on gdocs ✨

yenna tabris x loghain | x zevran | x loghain x zevran

rook mercar x neve

rook x solas

rook thorne x lucanis

el lavellan x cullen | x the iron bull | x cullen x the iron bull

surana x leliana

katari adaar x sera

adaar x josephine

evelyn trevelyan x cullen

hawke x fenris | x anders | x fenris x anders

other ships:

anders x fenris

dorian x the iron bull

give me any 2 female characters and ill make it work

sera x vivienne

isabela x merrill

krem x gatt

polyamorous bull's chargers

aus i like:

inquisitor anders au

soulmate aus

vampire/werewolf aus

apocalypse aus

fusion/crossover with the following verses: fallout, dishonored, vampire: the masquerade, the witcher

[anneapocalypse]

Anne's Dragon Age Femslash!

Happy Femslash February! Have a list of all the F/F fics I've written for Dragon Age so far. Listed from shortest to longest. Ratings are noted here; please check AO3 tags for full list of warnings/content notes.

Herald's Rest. Female Trevelyan/Sera, 370 words, rated M. The Inquisitor finds a respite.

In Darkness Enveloped. Cassandra/Leliana, 1800 words, rated E. The Conclave is destroyed. The Divine is dead. The Left Hand and Right Hand are at odds, and at loose ends. It's the worst of times. It's certainly the worst possible time for this.

What We Can Do Together. Shianni/Briala, 2000 words, rated T. Briala has never called her away from Denerim before, so Shianni can only assume this is important.

Gifts of the Hunt. Female Mahariel/Morrigan, 13000 words, rated M. Lyna Mahariel follows Morrigan through the eluvian, leaving behind her life with the Wardens and with her Dalish clan. With only each other, Morrigan's child, and the magic of a long-forgotten past, what kind of future will the two of them have together?

No Woman Rules Alone. Anora Mac Tir/Female Tabris, 34000 words, rated E. Warden Tabris convinced Anora and Alistair to marry for the good of Ferelden, to unite the lands against the darkspawn. They have settled into a functional partnership and even friendship, but there is no love between them and they both know it. Over time, Anora finds that it is the Warden-Commander and Arl of Amaranthine who has won not only her respect, but her heart.

[crowinkwriting]

Tranquisitor

[Reposting of my old fanfic. A Solas x Trevelyan story and with a lot of cannon divergence. Hoping for 2 uploads a week.]

Chapter 1:

Olive struggled as she was dragged through the hall. Thanks to the cuffs restraining her she couldn’t use her magic and her smaller size didn’t help her against the two Templars trying to bring her to her destination. She kept pulling and pushing in some hope to get away but it was pointless.

She knew there was nothing she could do to escape but maybe she could slow them down. Just a few more seconds before she would have to meet her fate. Eventually though after all the struggling and begging they eventually made it to the door. This was the end of the line and Olive knew it. ‘This is it?’ Olive asked herself.

The young mage looked between the two Templars in hopes maybe just maybe they’d let her go. However the two just faced the door waiting for it to open. Any sympathy, regret, or common ground they had was gone. These people had spent years around each other but now Olive found no familiarity and part of her blamed herself.

“Please, I didn’t do it.” The mage begged but neither of the Templars said anything as the door finally opened.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

‘Please, I didn’t do it.’ Olive pleaded in her mind. Everything seemed foggy and all Olive could feel was an intense pain in her hand. ‘Pain… I can feel pain.’ Olive realized as she quickly opened her eyes and looked around. 

As she looked around Olive first noticed the numerous guards surrounding her. They seemed nervous but Olive was relieved to see they weren’t Templars. ‘This isn’t the circle.’ She thought as she looked around at the dark room surrounded by long empty cells. More pain shoots through her left hand and Olive then notices the strange green glow, which she assumed was the source of the pain.

She then heard the door loudly open and two strange women stepped in. The ginger woman in the hood stayed back a moment as the woman in armor began to circle Olive. “Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now. Everyone who attended is dead… except for you.” The armored woman explained.

‘Conclave? What is she talking about?’ Olive thought to herself. She couldn’t remember anything about a Conclave and she wasn’t even sure how she got here to begin with. While the mage was trying to think what was going on she hadn’t noticed the woman in armor had stepped forward until she had forcefully pulled on Olive’s glowing hand.

“Explain this.” The woman demanded and Olive was silent for a moment. She couldn’t explain it. The last thing Olive could even remember was facing that dreaded door and having some dying hope that one of them would have mercy on her. The was at the circle but this wasn’t the circle and while she didn’t remember much about that room she knew this wasn’t it. Not only that but she could feel pain and fear again. Olive was still astonished at the fact she could feel again. 

Maker only knows how long she had been cut off from the world. By the length of her hair she guessed it had probably been a while. Her once shoulder length black hair was now much longer and even covered one of her violet eyes.

After thinking it over Olive finally answered. “I can’t… “ Was all she could think to say.

“What do you mean you can’t?” The armored woman practically yelled at Olive.

“I don’t know what that is or how it got there-” Olive started to explain but was cut off. “You’re lying!” The woman in the armor said as she stepped forward to grab Olive but was pulled away by the hooded woman who hadn’t spoken a word.

“We need her Cassandra.” The hooded woman pointed out before turning to Olive.

“Do you remember what happened? How this began?” The hooded woman asked.

“I don’t remember anything about a Conclave. I just remember… I should be in the circle!” Olive tried to explain, seeming panicked at the end. She had just been there but Olive still couldn’t think of anything other than that old metal door and the two Templars she had begged for her life.

At the mention of the circle both the women, seeming confused, turned to each other. “She doesn’t… ?” The hooded woman started but was intercepted by the person Olive assumed was Cassandra.

“Go to the forward camp Leliana. I will take her to the rift.” Cassandra stated.

Olive watched as Leliana nodded before leaving the dark prison. Cassandra then turned back to Olive and again walked back over to her. As Cassandra lowered herself to Olive’s level the mage moved back slightly, expecting another interrogation. To Olive’s surprise Cassandra simply uncuffs Olive instead. 

“What’s going on?” Olive asks once the cuffs are finally off.

As Cassandra pulled Olive off the ground she answered. “It… will be easier to show you.”

[Masterpost]