#lelianaxbrosca

[resolart]

happy pride from ur local wlws 😘💖🏳️‍🌈

[warlock-enthusiast]

Wisdom

I’m trying to do @barbex awesome fictober and guess what? It’s October!

Starting with Dragon Age

Leliana x Alva Brosca (dumb fluff and books) 

1. There they were, pursuing wisdom

There they were, pursuing wisdom. 

Or rather … trying to. Alva sneezed as she opened another dusty tome and let her fingers glide across the pages. Beautiful illustrations told the story of Andraste’s childhood and her hardships and how she met the Maker and Alva furrowed her brows. It felt weird finally being able to make sense of letters and books, but some words still escaped her. As did the whole concept of the Chantry. Growing up in the shadows of the Paragons meant being sceptic about other forms of worship.

Leliana hovered above her shoulder, a wry smile on her face. “Not your favourite?”

“Hm, not what we’re looking for.” Alva scratched her head and ignored the blush in her cheeks and the warmth in her belly. A faint scent of flowers clang to the rogue’s skin, something so familiar and so teasing. With her feelings being common knowledge, everything should be easier. It just wasn’t. Alva found herself to be a stumbling and mumbling fool around Leliana and unsure of her very being. Seeing the wide, open sky for the first time had felt almost the same, a sense of freedom and of fear, mingled together by fate and a longing for more.

“We’ll find something.” Leliana kissed her neck and squeezed her shoulder, fingers warm and rough through the layers of leather. Alva put her hand atop hers for a moment. Small signs of affection shared, even after a pretty embarrassing talk with Wynne and her own doubts about deserving them.

“We have to.” They’d already spent hours with searching through the ruins of a once great library. Half of the books seemed to be beyond repair, while the other half offered retellings of the Chant of Light. The former owner must’ve been pious beyond a fault and maybe of help, if you’re looking for some sacred ashes. They were the key to curing the Arl and they needed his power and connection. Not to mention that Alistair took a personal interest in seeing him cured. There was wisdom to be found in believing in something greater than yourself, though, it may also lead to wrong places. And dusty ruins. 

Alva watched her companions digging through stacks of books and half broken shelves. Zevran, bored out of his mind, eager to fight against the dust and dirt, while Wynne seemed to be in her element. Maybe the ruined library reminded her of a home lost and long halls stacked with magic secrets. She knew how it felt to give up everything and to start anew in a world filled with war and grief.

“You have something on your nose.” Leliana came to her side once again, watching Alva’s face with interest and distracting her from her observations.

She tried to look at it, but remembered that it only made her appear cross-eyed. “My nose?”

“Yes.” Leliana brushed her thumb against Alva’s skin and laughed at the fluff swirling through the air.

“Oh.” She tried not to scratch her nose, but would try to take a closer look in her mirror later. Running around with dust on her face didn’t appear heroic.

The redhead seemed to sense her thoughts and took her hand to make Alva follow her.

“Maybe we should rest for a bit. We can’t find the solution to every problem with an empty stomach and dry lips.” Leliana’s eyes were bright and reminded Alva of the flowers she hadn’t known before and which grew everywhere in Ferelden.

“And maybe I can steal another kiss?” Her voice sounded almost shy for a few moments, unsure if she’d be satisfied with Alva’s answer.

“Or two.” Alva felt her own heart beating fast and steady at the sweetness of Leliana’s voice and the thought about stolen kisses and the promise of more.

[warlock-enthusiast]

Orlesian pastries

Alva Brosca x Leliana and some cakes

(sfw)

“Had I known that there were so many cakes waiting for me on the surface.” Alva tried not to ogle at the sight and failed. Miserably. Rows upon rows of small and delicate cakes and sweets where laid out before her. Some of them so pretty and delicate that she couldn't imagine eating them. The whole room smelt of honey and cinnamon and unknown spices and Leliana hadn't stopped smiling since bringing her here.

“You would've left your home earlier?”

“Maybe.”

Orzammar wasn't particularly known for delicious food. Most of the population was happy about a cooked nug with a side of mushrooms and maybe some ale and fresh bread, but as a casteless one was happy to eat anything at all, and even after all those months spent on the surface, she still couldn't believe how much humans cared about food. It had nothing to do with filling your belly or making you strong enough to survive another day. On the surface you'd eat to indulge yourself, to show off your money and influences. After the coronation of Anora and Alistair she’d been invited to so many gatherings and feasts and every noble tried to surpass his predecessor and it was such a show of power. 

They’d offered whole roasted swans, covered in some special bacon, stuffed with smaller birds, decorated with edible feathers, and cakes, which seemed as tall as she was. Some things she'd never understand in full. 

Alva shook her head and picked up a strawberry, which was covered in thick layers of chocolate.

“And those are all for me?”

It had been a gift. 

Alva wasn't sure what she'd done to deserve such an offering of delicious pastries, but she wouldn't complain either as Leliana was rather talented with surprises and not so secret declarations of love. She still used her connections to the Orlesian Empire. This time for making her lover happy, well, happier, and maybe a bit softer around the middle.

“Yes, my love. Being the hero of Ferelden offers certain privileges.”

“And all I had to do was stopping a Blight.”

“And to win my heart.”

Alva kissed Leliana's hand.

“Far easier than fighting darkspawn.”

[warlock-enthusiast]

[warlock-enthusiast]

3. stripping off

Alva Brosca x Leliana (slightly nsfw)

prompts 

It had been raining for days. 

The camp ground was nothing more than a muddy nightmare, making it hard to muster the will to leave the tents. At least the fires still burned, because Wynne and Morrigan offered some sort of magical protection but the general mood was slowly shifting to a mixture of depression and desperation. Alva had been hunting in the nearby woods, to clear her head and escape the steady silence, but prey was hard to find, if you could almost see nothing but a gray sky and rain. So much rain. Would she ever get used to it? There was no water falling from the clouds beneath the earth, just rivers of molten lava and glittering gems set in stone. She felt homesick. Even when nothing was waiting for her back in her old home, except Rica. 

Her leathers were soaked through, so was the fabric beneath them.

“Are you alright, my dear?”

Leliana sounded concerned and was wrapped in a bunch of thick blankets. She wasn't a friend of this weather either and mourned the loss of her favorite pair of boots. The soggy ground had claimed them without a second thought.

“I got some rabbits. Maybe we can make a stew out of them.”

“That wasn't was I meant.”

Arms wrapped around her and a head came to rest on her shoulder. Strands of red hair tickled her cheeks and maybe the surface offered some things that she hadn't found back in Orzammar. Love and freedom, the touch of a beautiful woman. As a duster she'd only known rejection and prejudices. It was unfamiliar to be judged for your character not your caste, to feel needed.

They'd been sharing a tent for quite some time now and it still made Alva smile to find her lover waiting for her, when she was out there alone.

“I'm cold and sitting around doing nothing makes me nervous. We should fight battles, instead we have to wait and hope that the Darkspawn won't overrun us.” Some of the roads weren't safe, drowning people in avalanches of dirt and water. 

Leliana came closer and touched the leather straps holding the armor together.

“We should get you out of this wet stuff.”

There was a smile hidden in her voice and Alva couldn't help but feel better.

“You don't mind me helping?”

“No.”

Leliana's fingers were warm and nimble and she pressed her lips against every inch of bare skin that was revealed. First her neck and shoulders, the space between her breasts and her stomach. Her kisses felt light and almost innocent but there was a certain glint in her eyes, reminding Alva that Leliana's thoughts were surprisingly corrupt for someone that devoted to the Maker. She came to kneel before her, mouths almost touching, and their breaths mingled.

“Feeling better?”

“Yes, but I'm still a bit cold.”

“Oh? I'll protect you from it.”

[warlock-enthusiast]

remember the cheesy romance scenes?

I miss them.