#like guarding the halla

[thrumugnyr]

Salty egg - a Halla delicacy!

[shopwitchvamp]

Now that we're well past our moving crisis, etc. I'm trying really hard to get back onto any semblance of a schedule. You know, just like.. eating and sleeping regularly and not working 100% of the time? But dang. It's hard. It's past 9pm though so I'm gonna try to like play a visual novel or something and then go to bed at a decent time instead of working on shop stuff all night. Wish me luck. ✌️😭

[thedinanshiral]

Inside you there are two wolves..

I recently made a tweet simply sharing a fraction of my thoughts on the Solavellan motif of wolf&halla. I decided to expand on it here.

I never adhered to the whole wolf/halla Solavellan thing. That dynamic is simply not for me, not with them. I think Solas is more likely to fall for an equal; even if Lavellan technically isn't, she's definitely the closest he's met in a thousand years. She's the white wolf [in his romanced tarot card] Adding to this, he respects her opinion and counsel, she inadvertently may help him make up his mind about what he'll do next (woops) aka giving him purpose, and she can also vow to save him from himself. She's both his guide and guardian. This is his romanced card for a reason.

I can understand why many people may like to frame Solavellan in the wolf&halla motif. He's an ancient elvhen, she's literally thousands of years younger than him. He's wise beyond her imagination and she knows by comparison basically nothing of their own history. He's the deciever and she's the deceived. The predator/prey dynamic is right there, at first.

Solas is a proud man, one may argue even arrogant, but he's also a serious man, focused, disciplined, he wouldn't fall for just anyone, he wouldn't open his heart to someone he may consider lesser even in the slightest. While he refused to acknowledge present elves as people and maybe thought of them as little else than a bad dream he had to wake up from at any cost, Lavellan earned his trust, his respect and admiration, through her actions, her own "indomitable focus", and by showing him the respect and admiration other Dalish denied him on sight. She gave him hope for the future of his people and that must have been priceless, she literally changed his whole world.

At that point there was no hunting, no preying, no seeing Lavellan as another chesspiece on the board, even if she couldn't be allowed to be anything else. She defied all his preconceptions and rendered him vulnerable. Their relationship is consensual, up to a certain point it ends when Lavellan says it ends, he doesn't pursue further if rejected. Actually, it's Lavellan who pursues him most of the time, why isn't Solas the halla here? He's the one being chased!

Lavellan is a wolf too, the white wolf.

The Exalted Plains has shrines to Fen'harel, one in particular is flanked by two wolf figures, one white and the other black. His dual nature is always present; in Dalish lore he's despised as the betrayer but also revered and his favour still sought after. As the Dreadwolf he was both friend and enemy to the people, depending on which side they were on. He's prideful but can also be crushingly selfless.

I really like this shrine because of these statues

The white and black wolves also appear in his tarot cards.

When he falls for Lavellan, he's locked in for good; even as he ends the relationship before even giving it a name, his card changes to his romanced one, and there's no going back. Lavellan can't undo it, he won't even though he's the one insisting their love can not be. But it is, and it is for life. Wolves mate for life. This immediately tells me Lavellan is also a wolf, and she's represented in his romanced card as the white one.

At the forefront, walking next to him, watching, guarding him. Colours are light, golden, the scene is calm, serene.

If he's never romanced then the other card of his give us a very different image:

His shadow becomes a giant black wolf that towers over him, right behind him, leaning forward almost as if about to engluf him, consume him. This is possibly a representation of his Dinan'shiral, and more clearly of his Dreadwolf aspect. He's set himself on a journey he can not stop and from which he can not return.

Interestingly enough there's an alternative version of this card that was discarded:

In it his head isn't covered by a hood, he carries no staff and there is no moon. The menacing wolf haunting him remains the same.

While the black wolf walks behind him, the white wolf walks beside him. He considers Lavellan his equal, even in all their differences. While the black wolf seems about to consume him, the white wolf is guarding him, staring at the viewer as if asying "Do not dare disturb his peace". He knows she'd do anything to protect him out of love even as he's decided to destroy himself out of love for his people (and tons upon tons of guilt).

Lavellan made him vulnerable in a way he had not foreseen and so he had no defenses against that love. I strongly believe only a romanced Lavellan can change his mind, at the very least make him doubt at the last moment. As much as he respects and appreciates a friend Inquisitor, it simply isnt' the same. Lavellan is to him a light so bright he had to force himself to look away lest he became blind and lost in it.

I remember people were puzzled at first, why if his romanced card is The Hierophant it had almost all elements of The Fool? There's two simple reasons i can think of. First of all, he's a fool in love. Falling in love with Lavellan is probably the stupidest thing he's done since he woke up, considering he's on a suicide mission to end her world. But that he did speaks of trust, opened up possibilities he hadn't imagined, Lavellan's innocence was contagious and powerful enough that he really had to struggle to turn away from her.

At the same time, the Hierophant is a teacher of tradition, which really had been his role all throughout Inquisition, and the last thing he does before cutting the romance was share more of that lost knowledge to Lavellan, the truth of the vallaslin.

Solas' romanced card is two cards combined referencing multiple aspects of their character and relationship, and we could also consider the Fool to be Lavellan, because the defining element in the card design that can make people wonder which card is it is the white wolf. She's the fool mortal that fell for a god, she's the Keeper who fell for Fen'harel, and she didn't know it until it was too late.

As for his final card, The Tower, it doesn't necessarily have to be so terrible. Much like Death, The Tower is about change. The end of the old to allow for the new, and changes can be positive or negative, they can be gentle or earth-shattering. In Solas' case we know he's aiming for the resurgence of the world he knew by destroying the one he inadvertently created when he put up the Veil, but this card may also symbolize the destruction of all his preconceptions and ideas, the realization that the world he knew was gone and another strange one he couldn't accept had taken its place, the symbolic death of a part of himself as he changed in his time with the Inquisition.

I imagine the white wolf represents his soul, in a way, the thing by which he may be redeemed. And that is Lavellan. No halla, but a wolf that's been tracking him for years, hunting him down to stop him because she and she alone has the power to do so. And he's been running away from her for as many years because he knows this even better than she does, he knows she's his last remaning weakness, the one that makes him vulnerable enough to break his resolve because in the end hers is stronger.

I really don't think he'd be capable of harming Lavellan, and if he does i feel it would drive him mad and cause him to lose whatever control he'd have left. He'd lose his light, his soul, his heart, leaving behind only the shadows. He chose to leave rather than take Lavellan out of the equation here and that tells me he can't bring himself to do it, it's too late now, he feels too much for her.

Now I'm extra curious and anxious to see what role the Inquisitor will play in The Veilguard, if they'll meet Solas again, what effect that would have on both of them.

And I hope neither tries to do something stupid..

[secret-smut-sideblog]

(sooo thought I should probably masterlist these so here you go, have fuuun) nsfw in red, pg-13 in ourple

Dragon Age fics

(lavellan x blackwall, ANGST, slowburn, smut, ongoing series)

The Wolf - Waking in a prison, Lavellan finds herself the captive, then leader, of a force trying to close a rift in the sky. Recruiting a gruff dark stranger in her journey...

The Raven - After her estranged clan contacts her, Vella loses her composure when the Chancellor spews hate at her. But her guard dog is all too happy to bite...

The Lamb - The rift set to be closed once and for all, Vella hopes to spend one last night in his arms. The world set to crash down around them, she must finally sleep...

The Sparrow - In her purgatory of snow, Vella tries to reach somewhere shaped like home. Her love and her cause lost to her, a voice guides her forward...

The Hound - Finally reaching Skyhold, Vella reaches her breaking point after Blackwall pulls and pushes her away again. Anger flaring hot into him when he comes to darken her balcony...

The Swan - Following the anger Vella had burned into him, and her silent forgiveness, Blackwall seeks her out to ask for something shaped like atonement. And to maybe, selfishly, hope for something more...

The Spider - Fallen through a rift, then back into the world, Vella finds herself wracked with grief. Her love there to catch her, and unravel some long held grief of his own...

The Halla - Reunited with a Dalish clan, Vella hopes to help any way she can. And, returned to the soft of his bed, hopes her love will let her help him as well...

The Dove - Using the full force of her foresight and the strife within decisions made, Celene's Grand Ball proves to be bloodstained and venomous. Leaving Vella exhausted to old and new injuries, tenderly caught by his soft love...

Bones of Ribbon - Headlights had been a consistent bother in her new home. On a rainy night, she had enough. Assuming an inconsiderate neighbor, she discovered something far different on the street below...

The Mockingbird - Chasing after the trail of her runaway love, Vella is forced to see his crimes firsthand...

Monster Fucker fics

Tongues and Teeth - When her monster comes to her again, Merricat learns more about them. And as they are comforted in her, are drawn ever closer...

You've Seen The Butcher - Fate conspires to put Merricat in the path of Blackwood's hunger. To feed their need and their desire, and the intertwining of both, she opens herself to them...

Oneshots

Devourer - (astarion x f! reader) Your beloved vampire has gotten very comfortable with you. But you wonder of he's been holding back some of his more supernatural tendencies...

Bloodlust - (astarion x f! tav) Tav invites her bloodthirsty friend out for some late night reconnaissance, both of their cravings being fed...

Lay on Hands - (astarion x f! tav) In the early hours of the morning someone cant keep their hands to themselves...

Pulling Strings - (astarion x f! tav) Tav has caught on that her favorite vampire doesn't enjoy touching or being touched by others. But she has a suggestion to possibly help that piques his interest...

Satiated - (astarion x f! dark urge) With Astarion starving in the Underdark his bloodthirsty friend sees his hunger, knows it quite well. And with a promised death in their future, seeks to help him sate himself...

Cold Comfort - (astarion x f! dark urge) Finally reaching Moonrise Towers, she finds her urge overtaking her, taking an innocent life. Astarion seeks to keep her company through the long night...

Heavy Metal Lover - (karlach x f! tav) With her touch newly returned, Karlach is hungry for contact. Seeking out Tav for a little hand to hand combat that quickly turns heated...

Possession - (gale x f! tav) With natural challenge and charge between them and a misstep at connection, an unexpected competitor appears in camp. Things must come to a burning head between sorcerer and wizard...

Night Wandering - (gale x f! tav) After Tav's little magic lesson from her favorite wizard and the heat momentarily shared between them, she's feeling pent up. If only his tent wasn't directly next to hers...

Black Out Days - (gale x f! tav) Tav's pain rising to an unbearable level, she indulges in some found herbs to find relief. But her sanctuary is laced with some heated side effects...

Supine Bound - (gale x f! tav) With Tav believing she's crossed a boundary of intimacy twice with Gale, she invites the wizard to get some retribution...

Warm Company (halsin x f! tav) With her crush on the vampire tearing her heart, a large kind druid seeks to make her feel wanted...

You Know Me Too Well (gortash x f! dark urge) After the coronation, she can't get the familiarity he showed her out of her mind. She needs answers, and the Archduke is more than happy to indulge her...

Eyes on Fire (gortash x f! dark urge) The visage of the Archduke won't leave her, and itching for blood, his favorite assassin is about to pay the Lord a very welcome visit...

North Star (kar'niss x f! tav) Finding a drider in the darkness, Tav offers for him to join her party. The safety and clarity he receives in her presence and her surprising admiration spurn his many legs to move much nearer...

Miniseries

When The Night Is Over - (1/2) Tav was no stranger to vampiric hunger and found her new companion in the throes of it. He held tightly to his mask, but her offer to guide him could crumble it...

Even If It Bleeds - (2/2) When a hunter threatens one of her own, Tav urges Astarion to take matters into his own hands. Further encouraging him to seek out his own needs, his own desire...

-

Pillow Talk (1/2) Tav innocently offered to help Astarion with his morning routine. But things get very close, and Astarion is shocked how her sweet face belies the sinful mouth she has...

Lover, Please Stay (2/2) Tav keeping him at arms length, Astarion makes a plan to woo her back into his good graces. But his hunger, for her and her blood, proves distracting...

-

Warm Water (gale x f! tav) 1/3 With one of Tav's love languages being physical affection, Gale tries to keep his touch hungry skin from her. The sirens call of her arms could overwhelm him, but he's far from the only one heeding her soft song...

Warm Honey (gale / halsin x f! tav) 2/3 Both druid and wizard seeking out her warmth, Gale makes a plan to win her affections. Yet both scent and sound could conspire to be his undoing...

Warm Blood (gale / astarion x f! tav) 3/3 With a sanguine competitor now circling with the large druid, Gale can no longer put off his advances...

-

Girl Talk - (1/4) One late night Astarion turned their conversation to a more sensual topic and was delighted to discover Tav lacked experience with men. Naturally he was more than happy to lend a hand...

It Will Come Back - (2/4) Their shared night has been tormenting him, after staking his claim he found himself needing to be near her. And after a night of drinking, seeing her with someone else, he had to have her again...

Heat Signature - (karlach x tav, 3/4) After nearly freezing to death Tav needs Karlach near. Very near, it seems...

Unpunishable - (4/4) After Karlach spent the night with Tav, Astarion is feeling very normal about it. So normal that he needs her in his tent all night. Just to feed, he swears...

The Tav in question... (for reference)

Child Of Dawn series

(gale x f! tav, slow burn, completed)

Nightcall

Non Believer

Dream Girl Evil

Let Me Follow

To Build A Home

Bedroom Hymns

Listen Before I Go

Many Hands

Faith Consuming Hope

A Hole In the Earth

Keep the Rain

What The Water Gave Me

the girlypop... (aurum, my tav)

Gale and Aurum, Bad Ending (pain!)

Prayer Factory - (gale x f! tav, named) Aurum steels herself to face her old demons at the temple, with her love at her side. But the adrenaline of confrontation leaves her coiled, and a wizard very eager to take her wrath...

Gold Satin Dreamer - (gale x f! tav, named) Inviting his radiant wife to give a presentation at Blackstaff, Gale notices the longing gaze of his less than friendly colleague...

Hard Times - (gale x f! tav, named) After a venomous spat with Gale, Aurum finds herself in the prison of her dreams again. But with several pairs of hands cradling her, she doesn't have to weather it alone. And, perhaps, find her own vindication in the aftermath...

Nose to the Grindstone - (gale x f! tav, named) Aurum and Gale fucking in the dirt. They were left alone at camp, it's not their fault. Smh.

Exhale Inhale - (gale x f! tav, named) After Aurum took a hard hit in battle, Gale blames himself for a break in his concentration. Requesting they practice something a little rough for him to hone his skills...

House of the Rising Sun - (halsin x f! tav, named) After Gale received the Annuls of Karsus, and the subsequent break of Aurum's heart, she cannot shake the lingering betrayal. Driving her to the strong shoulder and warm arms of another...

AA Break Up Series

(ascended astarion x f! tav, drama and smut, completed)

We The Drowned

Take Me Back To Eden (shadowheart × f! tav)

Like Real People Do (halsin x f! tav)

I Should Hate You

Chokehold

What Kind Of Man (gale x f! tav)

Seven Devils

All I Wanted

The Moon Will Sing

Strawberry Wine (gale x f! tav)

As It Was

Astarion x Dark Urge

(astarion x f! durge, tenderness and smut, completed)

Dark Signs

Bite The Hand

Prey Drive

A Dangerous Thing

My Love Is A Dagger

Bloodcall

Little Miss Murder herself (my durge)

Distance

(astarion x f! plus fized tav, tenderness and smut, completed NOTE: these are old as hell lol)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

First Light (Prologue)

The Drow (indulgent prologue chapter)

My Portrait of Tav (I do be drawing..)

Tav Headcanons (being indulgent)

[thebookworm0001]

Fun Sized - Banter Update

Rating: T for innuendo

Summary: Ellana is short. Really short. So of course her companions have to tease her about it.

Link: AO3

Sera: You’re short. Like. Really short.

Ellana: What? I had no idea. I’d spent this whole time thinking everyone else was just exceptionally tall. 

Sera: [Giggles] That would be a trip, wouldn’t it. Wonder if that’s why dwarves are all… like that.

Ellana: The taller the ladder you need to reach your own cabinets, the grumpier you are. It’s just a fact.

(cont. under the cut)

Sera: But you’re not grumpy. Most of the times, at least. 

[if The Iron Bull is in the party]

Bull: That’s because she’s got a good view.

Ellana: I can promise you, that has nothing to do with it. 

Bull: Hey, you can enjoy the painting without wanting to eat the bowl of fruit.

Ellana: Funny, I don’t see any works of art around here. 

Bull: There’s some kitchen servants who might disagree with you. 

[Otherwise]

Ellana: [Laughs] You should say that to my sister. I’m sure she’d have some stories to tell that say otherwise.

Varric: Anyone ever ask you if one of your parents was a dwarf?

Ellana: Oh, very original. Never heard that one before. Are you going to ask if I stunted my growth by sitting in my aravel for too long next? Got kicked in the head by a Halla?

Varric: It’s a serious question. Usually the people I see eye-to-eye with have more than a passing affiliation with the Merchants Guild. 

Varric: With the right contacts and some clever paperwork, you could make some serious coin.

Ellana: Are you… asking if I want to con the Merchant’s Guild?

Varric: No, no, not at all.

Varric: Just saying, when all this is over, you have options.

Ellana: I’m sure my vallaslin won’t cause any problems in this plan of yours.

Varric: Evidence of a forbidden romance. People love a good tragedy - even better if you can scrape out a happy end despite it. 

Varric: They’ll be eating out of the palm of your hand.

Vivienne: I was speaking with our Lady Ambassador earlier, and she informed me you had rather firmly rejected her suggestion of incorporating heels into your ensemble.

Ellana: I did. 

Vivienne: Might I inquire as to why?

Ellana: Is it not enough that I simply do not want to wear heels?

Vivienne: Desire is reason enough to do anything, my dear. That does not make it wise.

Vivienne: You are an image for all of Thedas to aspire too, and your battle for legitimacy is not one that will be easily won.

Vivienne: It might help ease the process if those you wish to impress do not have to literally look down their noses at you. 

Ellana: Perhaps. Though I doubt anyone who already dislikes me will have their minds changed by a pair of fancy footwear.

Ellana: Anyway, any respect I gained would be quickly lost the minute I tripped and fell on my ass in front of a room full of dignitaries. 

Ellana: Or even better, I caught my new armor on fire. That would give everyone something to talk about.

Vivienne: Yes, well. Perhaps you are right. Some clever tailoring, then. And posture lessons.

Vivienne: One does not need to be imposing to command a room. 

Bull: Hey Kitten, you ever get lost, just look for the horns. Can’t miss ‘em.

Ellana: And where do you think I’ll be getting so lost that I’ll need to use you as a landmark?

Bull: Oh I don’t know. The crowds in Val Royeaux can get pretty nasty. Then there’s the ramparts, wrecked towns, corn mazes, overgrown fields. Really, just about anywhere.

Ellana: I- I’m not going to disappear into the grass like a lost girl in a child’s story. 

Ellana: What, should I leave a trail of bread behind me? Find a dog to guard me from the Dread Wolf?

Bull: I hear those Ferelden dogs come in pretty handy, actually. But no.

Bull: We might want to put a bell on you though, just in case.

Ellana: Think it’ll rain today?

Bull: Depends.

Ellana: On?

Bull: If you’re aiming at my height or my bad ankle.

Ellana: I could just be making small talk. Plenty of people talk about the weather.

Bull: Yeah, but most people aren’t wringing their fingers for an hour trying to come up with a clever way to ask about it. 

Ellana: My sister was always better at jokes than I was. 

Bull: That’s alright. You’ve got your own strengths.

Bull: For example, I think you’d make a very talented armrest.

Ellana: You know I can set you on fire, right?

Bull: Don’t worry, Kitten, you’re very scary.  

Inspired by @shift-shaping 

Bull: Solas, did you hurt yourself in our last fight?

Solas: I do not believe so. Why?

Bull: You’ve been rubbing at your neck more than usual. Thought you might’ve tweaked it after that one move. I’ve got some tips that could help if it’s sore.

Solas: I thank you for the concern. Your advice would be appreciated. 

Bull: Well, first off, you’ve got to start lifting with your knees. The Inquisitor’s tiny, but that doesn’t mean you can’t hurt yourself picking her up. 

Solas: Excuse me?

Bull: Oh, and you should probably invest in some cushions, maybe those feathery ones the Orlesians have. It’ll help you stay on your knees longer.

Solas: That is none of your concern.

Bull: It is when I get between you and the next templar that takes advantage of your stiff back. 

Bull: Those charging bastards hurt, you know.

Ellana: What information do I have to pass along to the Qun to get you to stop?

Bull: What? It’s friendly advice. If he keeps bending over, he’s going to get stuck that way. 

Bull: I’m just saying, It’s easier if he comes down to your level. 

Ellana: Please just tell me who Josephine needs to blackmail for this to end.

Bull: [Laughs] Now where’s the fun in that?    

    

Blackwall: So, you and the Lady Inquisitor, how does that work?

Solas: Much like any other relationship, presumably. 

Blackwall: Most relationships don’t have one party towering over the other. 

Solas: Really? That is your concern?

Blackwall: Not a concern. Just curious, is all. 

Blackwall: I mean, it can’t be easy. It looks like she’d need to climb scaffolding for anything to line up properly.

[If Cole is in the party] 

Cole: She is precious, held wholly in the palm of my hands. Sweet, small like the frilly cakes she brings me from the kitchens. 

Cole: He likes how small she is. He thinks it’s cute.

Blackwall: Well wasn’t that just adorable.

[Otherwise]

Ellana: Oh is that a dragon I see overhead? No? Pity. I would have appreciated being eaten right about now.

Blackwall: I’m sure Solas would be happy to oblige, my Lady.

Ellana: [Groans] Kill me now.

[miraculan-draws]

To get Merrill out of trouble with guards/templars, Fenris walks up to her and kisses her cheek and is like "thank you for finding my wife, serah. I apologize on her behalf—you see, she's been a bit air-headed ever since that halla hoove cracked her skull. We'll be on our way, ma serannas." And as they walk away Merrill is FUMING but the guard believe him EVERY TIME

[dreadfutures]

2024 DA Fanfic Server OC SWAP Fics!

Every year in April, the DAFF server does a semi-secret round-robin gift exchange where the goal is to write a gift fic using your assigned person's OC. The gifts are always phenomenal, heartfelt, and give a glimpse of how your character is loved through someone else's eyes. Click the link above to read the 18 gift fics!

This year, I wrote for two different lovely writers, and both fics were OC & OC crossovers. I was so inspired by their characters I couldn't resist.

I wrote two of our Mahariels meeting as they quest for a cure for the Blight. And I gave a Trevelyan and my Lavellan the dragon fight we've all been rooting for!

The Dragon Age Fanfic Writers Discord Server anniversary (Aug 2021) generated a bunch of crossover-type gift fis and introduced the idea of a multiverse connected by eluvians. Thus, the Mirrorverse was born. This is an OPEN collection for ANYONE'S FICS that feature Dragon Age OCs who meet via the eluvians-to-the-multiverse plot gimmick. (I hope to see your own soon ;) )

Death is an Open Door

for Ghila Mahariel ( @ammoniteflesh )

Rating: T Words: 8100 (Crossover Mahariel & Mahariel).

Old Wardens told tales of long-gone companions and how they knew it was time to go. When hair thinned and nails grew sharp; when bone spurs sprouted or muscles began to hunch; when the eyes grew milky and the veins grew dark, and the light of the sun burned like the Maker’s wrath… that was when a Warden was a Warden no longer.

Mahariel had never known old Wardens.

Mahariel traveled at night.

Faust's Ghila Mahariel and my Halevune Mahariel are both worn out ten years after the Blight: shem politicians have not made good on the promises made to Ferelden's elves, and both Mahariels struggle with a lot of guilt, regret, and frustration. They both set out in search of something: a cure for the Blight, or at least its source. But their eluvian journey leads them from their own worlds, where each is the singular Hero of Ferelden, to somewhere in-between. Together.

It felt like the perfect mirror/foil set up for the two Mahariels and gave me the chance to write some horror and some ancient elven legends to boot!

and a second fic:

Unbreakable, Unbowed, Unyielding

for Theresa Tervelyan ( @warpedlegacy )

Rating: T Words: 2600 (Crossover Female Trevelyan & Female Lavellan, Female Trevelyan/Cullen Rutherford)

Tess, if it's this important we can march the blasted halla in with some troops to guard it. — Cullen

“For once,” said Inquisitor Theresa Trevelyan, a wry smile aimed at her advisers, “that might actually be a good idea, Commander.”

I love Theresa with all my heart, and her writer Duchess. I was able to write a little Cullen-centric mysterious mini adventure for her for the winter holiday exchange, but we've always talked about "Ixchel and Theresa should slay a dragon together!"

Now they have!

Featuring battle couples, mid-combat banter, a dash of humor, and a bit of a cliff hanger, I hope it inspires more Mirrorverse crossovers.

[herald-divine-hell]

My Theory on Veilguards' Dragons

This sort of popped up with my friend, @this-is-something-idk-what, when they suggested a theory about the dragons/possible archdemons in Veilguard's Release Trailer. I'm just going to put it here, though I will worn. I feel like I read elements of this in the past, so shout out to any original theorist, but also I'm not exactly the greatest at remembering the direct lore of Dragon Age, and I'm also just dumb.

- So This-is-something-idk-what mentioned a potential theory where the archdemons were the Evanuris or the blighted gods, which I do admit is a very interesting term of phrase for Solas to use. While I'm not particularly against it, I have a few problems with it (which isn't exactly mean to attack this-is-something-idk-what). For one, the only god mentioned to be particularly associated with dragons is actual Mythal herself. I don't think this is a later revionisist take on the Elves part, when they began to directly associate different creatures to their gods potentially after Arlathan's fall, like Ghilan'nain's sacred animal being a halla. We know that Mythal was associated with dragons, even during the times of the ancient elves - the final scene with Solas and Mythal is notable with their depiction of a wolf howling on one side of the eluvian, and a dragon bowing it's head on the other. The only Evanuris, that I am aware of and what the wiki mentions, that is associated with dragons is Mythal. (Though, oddly enough, Elgar'nan, the head of the Evanuris, is notably without a sacred animal, being only noted to be symbolized with fire, light, and lightning, though I could imagine Mythal and him may have shared some elements of draconic influence.)

What I think may have lead to the establishment of the archdemons is primarily because of Mythal. According to the Veilfire Runes in the Deep Road:

"Hail Mythal, adjudicator and savior! She has struck down the pillars of the earth and rendered their demesne unto the People! Praise her name forever!"

We know that Mythal had a hand in slaying some of the Titans, and that the Evanuris halted expeditions after they acquired significant portions of Deep Roads, as the Veilfire Runes codex mentions:

For a moment, the scent of blood fills the air, and there is a vivid image of green vines growing and enveloping a sphere of fire. The vision grows dark. An aeon seems to pass. Then the runes crackle, as if filled with an angry energy. A new vision appears: elves collapsing caverns, sealing the Deep Roads with stone and magic. Terror, heart-pounding, ice-cold, as the last of the spells is cast.

That codex also makes mention that:

"What the Evanuris in their greed could unleash would end us all. Let this place be forgotten. Let no one wake its anger. The People must rise before their false gods destroy them all."

Who is making this claim is not entirely known. It is entirely possible it's a follower of Solas, but the codex doesn't give us much to go off, so I digress.

However, what I think it is interesting is that it is very likely Mythal herself, as the Elves retreated from the Deep Roads, established the dragons as a sort of safe guard against a potential attack from either the Titans, or whatever could be found that could threaten them as the codex talks about. Could it be the Blight? I'm not entirely sure. Some people have suggested that the Blight was made from the Elves, but I can also possible see that it has another originator, the Forgotten Ones - whom is curiously absent in discussion from Solas or from the recent DA material. As for the dragons...who else would place dragons, creatures of flight, who take to the heavens, within the binds of the earth? The presence of the potential archdemons all seem to point toward Mythal, though entirely why she did so is up in the air.

But that's not what I'm really trying to discuss. What I think Veilguard is utilizing the possible archdemons as seen in the Release Date trailer is something that was rarely touched upon, or kinda forgotten, in the fandom (but again, it's been nearly ten years since Trespasser, so it makes sense and we could had talked about it back then).

Solas mentions in Trespasser, at his bewilderment that Corypheus could actually succeed in unlocking his foci:

"I did not foresee a Tevinter magister having learned the secret of effective immortality."

How do we see Corypheus remain immortal? By corrupting an high dragon into his vessel. What is curious is that Solas says "the secret", and not a secret, as if the true way to remain effective immortal is to bind your life-source with another entity, powerful enough to retain it. Of course, Solas does say the Elves were immortal, all of them, but I assume that they could die or be in a state of inability. What we find with Flemeth and Mythal may hint that, which I'm like 90% was talked about in past theories. Why else would he refer to it as "effective" rather than simply "the secret of immortality". Because you don't have to technically worry about dying, even if your body is destroyed. You can simply possess another body.

Which leads me to also believe that to secure Mythal's complete dissolution, the Evanuris went beyond just attempting to kill Mythal. They went on an effective purge. It is my theory, not entirely backed I believe by any real source in the lore, that the vallaslin of ancient Elvhenan were not simply just be slave-markers, but points of restoration when an immortal died, as we have seen Corypheus have done in the Temple of Mythal. Though it could be argued that it is done through his usage of the Taint, similar to the jumping of souls of the archdemon, I am not entirely sure. After all, would Corypheus even need to learn that through the foci? Why would Solas mention it as an the secret of effective immortality? Given Flemeth-Mythal's tendency to jump into the bodies of her daughters when their older body begins to wan, I think it is less a utilization of the Taint and more an Elven invention in which Corypheus adopted, thanks to Solas' foci.

The Purge of the Mythalites seem to be implied in the Temple of Mythal in the Unreadable Elven Writing:

She shook the radiance of the stars, divided them into grains of light, then stored them in a shaft of gold. Andruil, blood and force, save us from the time this weapon is thrown. Your people pray to You. Spare us the moment we become Your sacrifice." There is a brief image of an elaborate golden spear, glowing with unbearable heat. Then it fades.

The full poem comes from both Andruil's Gift and the Unreadable Elven Writing:

She took the gathering storm, trapped its fury in golden limbs, and strung it with the screams of the south wind. Andruil, blood and force, your people pray to you. Grant that your eye may not fall upon us. Spare us the moment we become Your prey. She shook the radiance of the stars, divided them into grains of light, then stored them in a shaft of gold. Andruil, blood and force, save us from the time this weapon is thrown. Your people pray to You. Spare us the moment we become Your sacrifice.

I think it is clear, to keep Mythal from accessing a readily available form through her own practitioner-slaves, the Evanuris ordered and acted toward the slaughtering of Mythal's people, leaving her unable to access the world in a meaningful way until Flemeth (and possibly, if it is to believe, but by God I hope it is not true, Andraste).

Such, what we do find in Veilguard with the dragons/possible archdemons is the usage of the effective immortality Solas mentions in Trespasser. And it is very possible that the Evanuris are blighted, in someway, relating specifically to the Blight.

But again, this is a theory - put together in a short amount of time, at 11pm-12am, and I think my first in-depth Dragon Age theory, so please be gentle. 🥺🥺🥺

[felassan]

its that time again! 🍵 Thoughts/wonderings on Dragon Age: The Missing #3, under a cut due to spoilers for The Missing (not just #3):

Thoughts on Issue 1

Thoughts on Issue 2 (note: this post also contains spoilers from DA:D leaks)

Thoughts on the first 4 pages of issue 3 (which came out via preview)

Overall I enjoyed the issue a lot and it's my favorite of the 3 so far! Issue 2 was more fun and punchy/had more oomph (as Teia and Viago are amazing and simply showstealers tbh⭐), but this issue has been my fav so far because i] I'm hyped that after three (3) years we got to see Strife's design, and more importantly ii] the issue advanced the DA:D [pre-]plot a bit and dropped inchrestingggg new lore stuff. (The pacing wasn't great, it was kind of rushed in places and it was a lot to try to fit in to just a few pages. I also would have liked it if the the Veil Jumpers could have been given a bit more depth/been fleshed out a bit more, but again there's limited pages in these comics)

I like what they're doing with a different color palette version of the picture on page 2 in every issue :>

On page one, are those icebergs floating in the sea? would there be icebergs in the Nocen Sea or Ventus Straits? it seems like the climate around there is warm.

On the map, I like the little representation of the Imperial Highway.

^ one example of the triangle motifs incorporated into the Veil Jumpers' outfits.

^ the face on Tist's shoulderpad reminded me of Sentinel armor.

Tist looks like a Greek statue of a youth hh

I liked the designs and hairstyles of all 4 Veil Jumpers. Irelin's fur collar is a nice touch to have remembered, in TN she was described as wearing supple leather trimmed with fur.

Strife is tall and stacked. this didnt surprise me, after reading the first story in TN I came away with that impression of him. in TN he was specifically described as being tall and strong, square-shouldered and straight-backed with calloused hands, lean with long ropey muscle. also I'm simply biased and a tall buff elf enthusiast hh. (in terms of build and stuff he reminds me of my Lavellan)

^ I wonder if the book at Strife's belt here is the leatherbound journal from Ruins of Reality, the relic of the Morlyn clan?

I wasn't sure about some of Strife's dialogue, he seemed to be missing the sort of snarky or lighter-hearted manner he had at times in TN? dialogue in general was a bit stilted in this issue tho, not bad so much as just quite info-dump-y.

Veil Jumpers faction details: they are an alliance between the best Dalish mages and hunters (not an all-elf and/or all-mage group) and other non-elves who were wiling and able to help contain the threat of timespace warping hijinks and chaos that's reigning in Arlathan Forest. presumably a fair few of the Dalish elves in the group are from Clan Morlyn. the mixed nature of the faction and Binde's presence in Strife's group feels like a natural progression of Strife at the end of his story in TN: [said to Myrion] "You're right, shem. This [Arlathan forest] isn't your place. But then, once upon a time, it wasn't mine, either."

also their base or HQ is a "sanctum". about that.. remember this? from this concept art? maybe that piece of concept art was showing the Veil Jumper sanctum? some of the concept art of Veil Jumpers shows them in a similar location with floating rocks and orange vegetation/foliage. [one, two]

in a previous posted I wondered,

last time we got a look in [Arlathan forest], Strife had noticed something had gone wrong in the forest. time and space was stretching and folding weirdly, reality warping, and he and Irelin saw echoes or mirages of themselves running around. mysterious entries had begun appearing in the relic journal of the Morlyn clan describing sacred ruins in there guarding a powerful fabled artifact, a halla figurine that Irelin grabs during that story. when Varric&Harding arrive, will they also be facing this sort of thing (mad sylvans, reality& time/space warping)? is the crucious stone similarly guarded by sacred ruins? could it have something to do with what’s gone wrong in the Forest? even when Irelin succeeds in grabbing the figurine, Strife still feels that something has gone wrong in there.

fun to see that this speculation was also correct ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝ as in this issue Arlathan is still timespace warping, Varric&Harding have to run a gauntlet facing these dangers, the crucious stone was contained in the ruins of an ancient temple, and Irelin posits that someone walking around using the crucious stone could explain the timespace warping in Arlathan.

Harding continues to eyeroll at Varric's bad jokes. he's basically an old man with dad/grandpa jokes at this point.

"Deep inside the Veil"? I found this to be kind of odd phrasing. we've long known that the Veil is thin in Arlathan forest, indeed thinner in such a way as to be different than how it is in other places where it is also known to be thin, somehow. inside the Fade is a place one can go. is that what's meant by this line? or is it meant to mean more like "deep in the forest, where the Veil is very thin" / "inside a place where reality and the Fade are mushing together" sorta thing? or is inside the Veil itself a place in which one can go? 🤔

that aside, these "Ruins of Reality", this "world turned upside down", this "place where chaos reigns", this "threat".. it reminds me bigtime of when Solas says in Trespasser "as the world burns in the raw chaos".. and indeed, Harding infers as much at the end of this issue, saying "[this] is going to be happening everywhere unless we find [Solas]", and Solas refers to the damage himself in his letter, "I will limit the damage as best I can". and I wonder.. in TN Solas talks about a few years of peace before his ritual is complete. it made it sound like the ritual would take a few years to prepare for or a few years to carry out (in ancient Elvhenan some spells and stuff would take years to cast). if his ritual/plans along these lines have already begun, it would make sense that places in the waking world which are "weakest" (i.e. places where the Veil is thin) would be the ones which are affected first.

the trials and gauntlet gave me nostalgia for the Urn of Sacred Ashes questline in DA:O

the map from page one of Varric and Harding's voyage contrasted with the map of the forest.. hhh

Spirits trading places with the living, literally ripping you out your own body and stealing it.. (by this point Strife, Irelin and the other Veil Jumpers are old hats at the Arlathan forest timespace shenanigans hh.) this is neat and interesting new lore, and it reminded me of the Nevarran belief that when a dead soul crosses to the Fade it displaces a Fade spirit. I wonder if it's related to that. also I thought it was represented in a cool way, with the reflection world and the muted grayscaleish color palette swap when their souls had been displaced and they were in the 'spirit world'.

the panels when Varric and Irelin are conversing from random upside down angles reminded me a lot of when the party enters the Fade physically with Hawke and goes "wtf" in Inquisition :)

Varric is having such a terrible time. again

Does Harding have the Inquisition hairy eyeball on her kneeguard?

Varric's reaction to the sky being the wrong way around reminded me of how it must feel to be a dwarf from Orzammar going to the surface and seeing sky above for the first time, dizzying, weird, disorienting

I like that while a mage, Irelin still has an alternative weapon (knife/dagger) just in case ^^

Varric seeming to sort've push Harding ahead of him while they fled the animals was a nice touch

is this the first time leopards were confirmed in Thedas? :D tho they look more like cougars or maybe lionesses or sabretooth tigers or something, and leopards are typically solitary. also lmao first the deepstalkers attack and now this. Varric's like "bloodthirsty wildlife omg" like they didnt already have that problem in issue 1 hh.

RIP Gilf Varric fans

hh, does Varric not know that he's been graying lately anyway, time shenanigans aside?

the time warping reminds me of In Hushed Whispers 👁️ very interesting in terms of implications. you can see why creating the Veil (which is connected to timespaceywarpy happenings) caused the ancient elves to begin aging.

^ check this out, the glowing green light on Strife's shoulder in his golden armor. seems like the green-glowing aspect of some Veil Jumper gear is still a thing [one, two, three]. it got more open, triangley and brighter in the second panel, like he was powering it up and gearing up for the fight. if they hadn't decided to run, would he have started to use it like the Veil Jumpers in those pictures? curious to find out more about the Veil Jumper gear - how it works and where they got it from.

^ what's happening in this panel? they seem to be straight-up disintegrating? not aging, disintegrating.

^ the presence of and focus on this satchel on the 'assassin', with its bright red fastener (draws the eye), seems sus. Varric says later in the issue that the 'assassin' saved him. it's hard to tell whether "I don't think this was the Venatori. I think it was Solas" means he thinks it was Solas who already entered the vault and took the stone OR if he means that and that the 'assassin' who saved him was Solas in disguise and that he's the one that's been tailing them this entire time. if the 'assassin' was Solas in disguise, I sus that the stone - which he had clearly already gotten at that point - is inside the lil pouch and that's what this panel is trying to convey. also it wouldnt be Solas' first time dressing up in disguise (Bard in TN).

the twisting pathway reminds me of the yellow brick road in Wizard of Oz

The Varterral. it looks nothing like the ones we've seen in-game or like the one described in Masked Empire (or depicted in the illustration in the Deluxe edition). is this an art/design oversight, or new lore showing that varterrals come in multiple forms? in fairness, in Dalish lore the first varterral was created by Dirthamen, fashioned of the "fallen trees of the forest" into a deadly guardian. this ent-like varterral looks like that. maybe "varterral" is actually just a name for any created creature that's been magically created and is guarding an ancient elven site, golem-like?

Irelin's staff-less magic and the spell distraction she did was cool. was she doing Stinging Swarm? ^^

And ofc the final pages are the motherlode, especially the new painting! Look here. I think the green figure (the one with the crescent moon headpiece) is the monster figure with the crescent moon head from that mural and from that concept art piece. and I think that's Ghilan'nain (Horror of Hormak and all that). BUT I don't think the red figure is the other monster figure from that mural (the one with pointy, crab-like shoulders, who I think is Elgar'nan). the headpieces don't match, the red figure's headpiece better matches with one of the other sigils from the hemispheres. I think the red figure is someone else. the question is who, and my guess is they're Andruil. the two figures could be read as feminine, and the feel of the painting could be read as romantic - definitely close. Ghil was Andruil's chosen, and her beloved. Andruil was the one who offered Ghil ascendance.

the painting also bears a resemblance to the red lyrium idol, which has been variously and interestingly described - a couple hugging, two lovers, one comforting the other, or a god mourning her sacrifice. does the painting depict the same moment from the idol, or not long before it at least? the main figure on the idol's headpiece is different, but coincidentally Andruil was also known as the Goddess of Sacrifice. wouldn't it be interesting and ironic if there was a time in the distant past when Ghil had to sacrifice the goddess of sacrifice? if this painting is depicting a moment before such a thing, that would help explain why the other monster figure from the mural has a different headpiece. if "the Evil Gods" are returning, Andruil couldn't be one of them, if she was killed. Ruins of Reality and Three Trees to Midnight are also full of references to both Ghil and Andruil..

Strife was looking at it now. On the other side, so was his double. Both transfixed by a statue of elven goddess Ghilan'nain holding a crystal halla figurine, exactly as the journal described.   - As the Strifes drew the attention of the merciless trees, Irelin swooped in and snagged the figurine with her talons, tearing it from Ghilan'nain's grip. The statue didn't let go easily, but neither did Irelin. With an angry squawk, she yanked the prize free and disappeared into the sky.

-- Ruins of Reality

in TN, the story title "Three Trees to Midnight" refers to the Way of Three Trees/Vir Tanadhal, which Dalish lore holds were teachings of Andruil given to the People. Strife thinks of the Ways during his escape, using them to escape, and invoke's Andruil's name multiple times. Strife also refers to Arlathan Forest as belonging to the Lady of the Hunt/Andruil. He also calls on Ghilan'nain, and Irelin shapeshifts into a halla (Ghil's sacred animal, being Mother of the Halla and the first halla), as well as a falcon and an owl (hawks are sacred to Andruil and the Dalish believe owls are Andruil's messengers). meanwhile Strife has turned up in this comic with Andruil vallaslin, after not having them in TN. very inch... resting... indeed.

why Ghil and Andruil in the painting? presumably this ancient temple, deep in Arlathan Forest, was a temple either to Andruil (whose forest it is) or Ghil (her beloved). why next to a painting of the Dread Wolf doing something to the Veil? in the story of Ghil's ascension, there is a reference to Pride -

On the second day she drowned the giants of the sea, except those in deep waters, for they were too well-wrought, and Pride stopped her hand.

On the third day she killed the beasts of the land, except the halla, whose grace she loved above all else.

This is how Ghilan'nain was made youngest of the gods.

there is also a story in which Andruil wanted to punish Fen'Harel. it could also simply be (or both could be true) that Solas painted the Dread Wolf mural when he stopped by earlier before Varric and Harding to obtain the crucious stone. what if in this comic panel we're looking at the same location as here, just with the comic version of the mural compacted down due to limited panel space:

and what's the relevance to Solas' plans, what happened the past, and the idol? I am guessing it is something to do with how Andruil went mad and hunted in the Abyss, putting on armor made of the Void and making weapons of darkness, to the extent that she brought "plague" to her lands and howled things meant to be forgotten. it's often theorized that Andruil accidentally brought the Blight/Taint back from the Void, and of course that links to red lyrium (Blighted blue lyrium, the red lyrium idol) and is reminiscent of the Evanuris digging deep, mining the bodies of Titans for "something else" and unleashing something terrible by doing so by mistake (we read of elves frantically collapsing tunnels, "let this place be forgotten, let no one wake its anger"). also I'm obsessed with the Balrog Theory so

Solas being kinda extra with his dramatic fursona red seal

he is always one step ahead of them isn't he

"You're joking. You've got to be" Strife +50 Headache

"Interfering in matters you do not understand can only make things worse" explain them then pls Solas. if you're cryptic and don't explain things in full all the time, then ofc people are going to be Concerned

the Orb of Fen'Harel, the red lyrium idol and the crucious stone.. Solas' list of Maguffins I Need For My Plans keeps getting longer.

As for the crucious stone itself.. whatever it does, it sounds like it weakens the Veil. makes sense why Solas would want it, then. there was this line in Ruins of Reality: "Mysterious entries appeared of their own accord, describing sacred ruins in Arlathan Forest that guarded an artifact of fabled power." In Ruins of Reality it referred to a crystal halla figurine. maybe the journal has since produced more entries of its own accord, telling of other ruins and artifacts - Strife and Irelin in this comic had heard of the crucious stone and had a map to where it was located after all.

Also the final question is who is the person on the final page, which is the cover for issue 4? Presumably the trusted informant from the issue 4 synopsis, "Varric connects with a trusted informant who might help them." I've seen speculation that they are the person from this concept art and I like that idea and could see it :] I love their outfit and the design of it makes me think of snakes, so again I'm wondering about the Viper. their oufits are similar, and so far we've had Wardens-Crows-Veil Jumpers in 1-3. perhaps issue 4 will introduce (in advance of DA:D) the Viper's faction. in the 2020 trailer you have the pair of boots (speculated to be a Warden) character, a character on the roof (speculated to be a Crow) and a Veil Jumper stalking through the woods. there's also the character in an alley of Minrathous with the knife. the pattern on their hood -

is like reptile scales, like the pattern on the Viper here and the pattern on the character on the final page's shoulders (as well as the scaley reptile on the person in that concept art's staff).

[broodwolf221]

Happy Friday!!!

For Velari from the unusual words prompt list (also can I use this list it's awesome!!)

"eleutheromania - an intense desire for freedom or liberation"

Happy Writing!

ah thank you this was so fun with her /u\ such a fitting prompt! and by all means! :o love it when ppl want to use that list negl @dadrunkwriting note: contains a minor spoiler for my Antiquation series but it’s rly nbd 645 words cws: none

In Haven, she’d been nothing but busy. Adjusting to the mark on her hand, trying to seal rifts, working towards sealing the Breach, and juggling politics besides—none of which were familiar things for her. After a while the walls seemed oppressive and her little cabin, although of a good size for an individual, began to feel cramped.

But then Corypheus had struck and Haven had been buried. That she had survived was a near-impossibility she did not care to dwell upon, and the subsequent journey to Skyhold had been taxing in the extreme, every step worrying about her people—and wondering when, exactly, they had become her people. Everything was wide open on that journey but it did not comfort her, not in this context, not with all their eyes still upon her.

Then she had to dedicate herself to establishing Skyhold as an effective base of operations. It had to be able to withstand another assault from Corypheus, although she did not believe he would strike so soon after his most recent... well, defeat was a strong word when he had laid waste to Haven. Calling it a stalemate might be more accurate.

Her room in Skyhold was disturbingly luxurious, particularly with their soldiers camped out in the valley below. She felt guilty about it, but could not deny that the wide-open vistas set her at ease. Often when she had given up on sleep for a night she would layer in furs and blankets and sit out on one of the balconies, watching the stars above and staring at the peaks of mountains.

It took a long time until she could sneak away for a day. She had told Josephine that she wanted to check the path up the mountain, to make sure it was still clear for anyone who sought the journey to Skyhold. The ambassador had been insistent that she take someone along, that she not go alone, but she’d been equally insistent—everyone was busy and she needed a bit of space to clear her head. Eventually Josie had acquiesced, although with obvious hesitation, but they had named her Inquisitor: they could not very well deny her now, could they?

She had gone out with a pack and her staff, and when she was far enough away to be out of sight of the guards she settled all in the hollow of an old tree, quickly stripping and storing her clothing there as well. The air was brutal against her bare skin, but it would not be skin for long.

She closed her eyes and transformed. At long last. She usually took the form of a halla, that being her preference, but they were about as ill-suited to this environment as she was—instead she became a ram, sure-footed and with a thick coat to protect her. It did not matter that other rams would have avoided her, for there were none here. It did not matter that her subjects might be terrified of her power, for they were safe in Skyhold.

She was free and she ran. She scaled the mountains with an ease that her ‘real’ flesh never would have afforded her, stood at the top of peaks she had stared at from her balcony. She did not bother with trying to act like a ram, exploring as she would in her own skin, nosing through the few hardy shrubs that grew this high up and admiring the lichens growing on trees in the sheltered valleys between peaks.

She also kept an eye on the sun, and when she had been gone for more than two hours she begrudgingly returned to her gear, transformed once more, quickly donned her clothing and her pack, grabbed her staff, and began to walk back to Skyhold feeling more at peace in her body than she had for a long time.

[tired-truffle]

Yet Broken Still You Breathe

An AlistairxOC Fic

Chapter Word Count: 3.2k

Part 19/50

“No one will know the violence it took to become this gentle.” - Unknown

Masterlist

Darcy knew nothing of mercy. He was perhaps the most ruthless tyrant this world had ever known. He hadn’t so much as given Gwen a second to protest his orders, a smirk plastered to his face. In his mind, he was likely doing her a favour by pairing her up with Alistair to complete a request from a local Dalish elf, but Gwen would have preferred to face an entire horde of Darkspawn on her own than spend a moment alone with the nosey Grey Warden.

Gwen's morning had been emotionally draining enough as it was, especially after her encounter with Wynne. She had no desire to open up the conversation that Alistair had been eager to have since yesterday. Alistair, on the other hand, appeared thrilled when Darcy told him that Gwen would be accompanying him, though he tried to play it off as excitement to interact with a Halla once he saw Gwen’s dour look. 

With a cheeky grin and a wave, Darcy bid them good luck before joining the rest of the party on their journey to investigate the werewolves. Smug bastard.

“Have you ever seen a Halla before?” Alistair’s attempt at making small talk was undercut by the dark cloud that followed Gwen around. Sometime in their exploration of the Dalish camp the day before, Alistair had run into an elf in need of assistance with her Halla’s strange and aggressive behaviour.

“Have you not?” Gwen asked, her tone more biting than she’d meant it to be, but she did not correct herself.

“There aren’t many Halla in Redcliffe or in the Chantry, this was the first one I’d ever seen,” he admitted, unperturbed and enthusiastic as always despite her mood, “I was hoping you could help me figure it out, you’ve spent some time in the wilds, right?”

Gwen didn’t remember telling him that and she narrowed her eyes at him. He put his hands up in mock surrender, a sly grin playing at the corners of his mouth. “Alright, alright, no pushing into your past today, oh-prickly-one.”

Gwen resented that title and decided to quickly change the subject to avoid snapping at him. She may be a monster but she wasn’t a complete asshole. “Traded off ‘Guard Gwen’ duty with Leliana this morning, did you?”

As Gwen had emerged from her tent that morning, she’d caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of her eye. A blur of something fiery red flashed by, disappearing behind the trunk of a tall tree. She couldn't shake off the feeling that someone had been watching her all morning, especially during breakfast when she noticed Leliana, keeping a keen eye on her every move.

Alistair rubbed the back of his neck as a blush rose up his neck, he laughed nervously. “What? Me, on guard duty? The Knight-Captain was always admonishing me for napping on the job, but what can I say? Standing around for hours on end was dreadfully boring. How is anyone meant to stay awake the entire time?”

Gwen shot him a deadpan glare, her eyes devoid of any emotion, conveying that she was not in the mood for any nonsense. Alistair sighed, immediately caving. “Okay, you caught us, but can you really blame us after that conversation last night?”

“I thought you both wanted to trust me, that you thought I wasn’t dangerous,” Gwen grumbled, her arms folded across her chest. She wasn’t sure why she was so upset about this, it was a good thing they could see the danger she posed, it would keep them safer. But that petulant, selfish part of her had been so pleased to hear them talk about her as though she possessed some goodness, something worth knowing, and she was having a hard time parting with it.

Alistair furrowed his brow, “What are you talking about?” He grabbed her arm, pulling her to a halt and turning her to face him, though she kept herself squared partially away, unwilling to get too close to him. “I’m not worried about you hurting someone, I’m worried about someone hurting you.”

Gwen blinked dumbly, “Oh.”

“Oh indeed,” Alistair said with a lopsided grin that set her heart racing, “Sten and Morrigan were out of line, and I know Darcy trusts Zevran, but I don’t, his morals are all over the place. Any of them could try to hurt you and both Leliana and I agreed to keep an extra eye out for you. Because we care about you. Because we are friends.”

Gwen looked at her feet, suddenly very interested in the way she’d laced up her shoes, “I don’t need protection,” she mumbled halfheartedly, “I can take care of myself.”

“I know, but you’re getting it anyway, until we’re sure they won’t decide to go against Darcy’s command, I’m not going to risk it.”

Gwen’s stomach filled with butterflies, to have someone care so deeply about her safety… It was nice, though she’d admit that over her dead body. Which given her prognosis of death anytime within the next ten years, could be coming up soon.

“It could be worse, Leliana wanted to demand you share her tent, but I didn’t think you’d go for that.”

Gwen chuckled, lifting her head and taking the full brunt of Alistair’s smile upon her weak heart, “You thought right.”

“Occasionally I do that.” Alistair let go of her arm, “So how about we go help a lady with her Halla to pass the time?”

“If it dies do you think we could eat it?” Gwen asked, resuming their walk.

Alistair shot her a horrified look, “It’s her pet.”

Gwen chuckled, “I’m kidding,” she lied, and Alistair bought it, relief flooding his face in an over-exaggerated way that made Gwen suppress another laugh laugh. Food was food as far as she was concerned.

Faint rays of golden light filtered through the canopy, casting a warm glow on the far end of the Dalish Camp. A herd of majestic Halla grazed peacefully on the rich green grass, their white coats gleaming under the gentle sun. Their elegant silver horns spiralled high and proud, almost as if they were reaching for the sky itself. Gwen couldn't help but stare in awe at these magnificent creatures, knowing that she had only encountered them a handful of times in the wilds after she… left the orphanage.

Memories flooded back to her, memories of running for days on end, her body battered and bruised, her deformed face exposed for all to see. Her feet had been torn to shreds from lack of proper footwear and her shabby dress hung in tatters after catching on branches and thorns, hands torn to shreds from hours spent digging. She’d barely felt any of it, terror and sorrow filling her veins like lead and replacing all other sensations. Pain didn’t matter, the only that mattered was that Lucy was gone and it was all her fault, it was all-

Every step she took, every breath she drew, was plagued by this crushing guilt.

As she’d collapsed to her knees, every ounce of strength drained from her body. Her sobs echoed through the forest, raw and desperate, as if a spirit was wrenching them out of her throat. At that moment, when she thought she couldn't take anymore, a magnificent Halla appeared before her. Its elegant hooves glided softly against the leaf-strewn ground as it approached, its presence stealing the air from her lungs and causing her body to go still. The beast's warm breath caressed her wet cheeks as it sniffed at her, its powerful frame towering over her small form. She remained motionless, knowing from Lucy's books that these creatures were not aggressive towards humans. But animals were known to get aggressive around monsters, fearing for their lives. She couldn't blame them - after all, she was scared of herself too.

To her surprise, the majestic creature lowered its head in a gesture of submission, resting its smooth forehead against her own. Gwen's breath caught in her throat, the first time she had taken a full, deep breath in what felt like days. The Halla emanated a calming aura that seeped into her body like a balm of cool water on a scorching summer day. They stood there, breathing in sync for what felt like hours, until Gwen's foggy mind cleared and her lungs stopped screaming at her to rest.

Finally, the Halla backed away, its graceful body dipping forward in a bow. Gwen returned the gesture with a nod, unsure of how else to respond to such a magnificent creature. It seemed to be enough, and without another sound or movement, the Halla bounded off into the thick forest, disappearing from sight.

Gwen was left alone once again, but now with the ability to think straighter than before.

It probably smelled Lucy’s blood on me, it must have covered up my tainted blood, she had told herself. And now, in the present with Alistair and Elora - the Hallas’ handler - that thought would be put to the test.

Elora was a graceful and willowy elf, her lithe figure moving with fluidity and ease as she tended to the animals on the farm. Her long, pale blonde hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, a practical choice when working with creatures that may try to nibble on it. The sun had kissed her skin with a warm tan, adding a golden glow to her already radiant appearance. She welcomed Gwen with hopeful eyes, clearly excited by Alistair's endorsement of her skills. Elora then proceeded to explain the situation once more; one of their prized Halla had been acting strangely since the recent werewolf attack on their camp. Elora feared it may have been bitten and would eventually succumb to its injuries. However, the animal remained agitated and wouldn't allow anyone near it. Elora believed it associated her with the traumatic event, as she had been the one guiding the animals to safety during the attack. Desperate for help, she pleaded for someone to try and calm the distressed creature down and was grateful that they had answered the call.

“I don’t know much about Halla,” Gwen warned, “I don’t know if I’ll be any good at this.”

“That is alright, it means so much to me that you would be willing to try,” Elora said with blinding earnestness.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Gwen,” Alistair chided playfully, “you’re plenty calming when you try to be.”

Gwen narrowed her eyes and shot him a fierce glare, but his grin only widened in response. It seemed her once-effective glares were now powerless against him. She turned her attention to the magnificent Halla, its powerful hooves striking the ground in frustration. Its coat gleamed in the sunlight, a mesmerizing blend of gold and silver that seemed to shimmer with every movement. It would be a shame if they had to kill it, but it would also be doing it a disservice to let it suffer needlessly.

Gwen gracefully lowered herself onto one knee, her palms facing upwards in a gesture of submission. She cast her gaze down, not daring to meet the piercing eyes of the creature before her. Her body remained still, a statue frozen in time, as she held her breath and waited for any sign of movement. Behind her, Alistair and Elora held their breaths in anticipation. The Halla let out a snort, its hooves pawing at the ground with restless energy. Its powerful sense of smell worked overtime as it deliberated whether Gwen posed a threat or not. Inwardly, Gwen willed herself to remain calm and composed, knowing that any hint of fear would only make matters worse. The tension was thick in the air, like a heavy fog that threatened to suffocate them all.

The animal carefully trotted forward, sniffing warily as it went, before it stopped in front of her, its wet nose tickling her hairline as it inspected her. It brought her back to that moment in the woods all those years ago, she’d been so lost, so utterly and completely broken, unsure of why she was even trying to survive. And the Halla had appeared to save her, not physically as her wounds had stayed raw, but from the storm that had raged inside her. Now it was her turn to repay its kindness to another of its species.

The feel of soft fur against her forehead alerted her to the Halla’s decision. It had trusted her, and in a display of that trust, had bent down, its front legs bowed as it rested its head against hers. She slowly reached out, her hands meeting the course fur under its chin and petting it softly.

Distantly, she heard Elora scurry around them, examining the Halla and muttering to herself until she finally declared, “I’ve got it!”

The noise disturbed the Halla, who pulled back from Gwen’s grasp with a gruff whine, shaking its head as though it was trying to rid itself of flies. Elora winced at her mistake and the Halla released one more whinny before scampering off towards the rest of the herd.

Gwen sighed heavily, finding herself missing the animal more than she should for having just met it, and picked herself off the ground. Elora flounced into her field of vision, an excited squeal escaping her lips as she clasped Gwen’s hands in her own, “Thank you, thank you, thank you! I finally figured it out, and I couldn’t have done it without you, ma serannas, Gwen.”

“Uh, you’re welcome, I guess,” Gwen stuttered, her cheeks heating with embarrassment over the girl’s enthusiasm.

“What did I tell you,” Alistair said, coming to rest his arm around her shoulders and furthering the redness blossoming across her face, “Gwen’s a natural.”

Gwen ducked out of both their grasps, taking a large step back, her hands held up to ward them off, panicking slightly as to how much she would have liked to stay so close to Alistair, his arm around her, his chest pressed against her side, “It was nothing.”

“And modest too,” Alistair teased, before thankfully giving her a moment to cool off, “I am curious though, what was wrong with it?”

“Oh, right, of course!” Elora exclaimed, clasping her hands together, “She wasn’t injured so she will be fine, she was afraid for her sick mate, that’s all.”

Alistair furrowed his brow, “You can tell that just by looking at it?”

“It’s my job to read their body language, you get used to picking up subtle hints, she was acting out because she wanted the other Hallas to know not to mess with her mate. It’s hard to explain to a human, we Dalish have a special connection with them, even if they don’t always listen when we ask them to calm down.” Elora looked at Gwen with consideration, “Do you have some Dalish in your blood? You’re awfully good with Halla for someone not of our people.”

Gwen longed for a simpler family history, one free of the dark secrets that pulsed through her veins. She shrugged nonchalantly, but inside she was fighting the urge to fidget with the grass beneath her feet. She could feel Alistair's gaze on her, drawn in by the mere mention of a potential tidbit about her murky past. His eyes gleamed with curiosity and she couldn't help but wonder - for what felt like the millionth time - what he would think of her if he knew the truth.

“Either way,” Elora moved on, “I really can’t thank you enough for your kindness. If you ever need any help that we can provide, I will be the first to step up in support.” The elf bowed her head.

“Thanks,” Gwen said, her tone clipped as she tried her best to ignore the discomfort that came from being thanked so profusely.

“We should head back to camp, lots to do, more animals to calm and kittens to save from trees and all that,” Alistair joked, “I’m sure we’ll be seeing you around before we depart, we wish you the best of luck with your Halla, Elora.”

“Dareth Shiral, Alistair and Gwen,” Elora said as they parted, returning to her Halla with renewed vigour.

Only an hour had passed, and they were already finished with their daily task. Gwen couldn't deny that the unexpected break was a welcomed relief, but she couldn't shake the guilt of it being because of her loss of control from the day before. Still, she saw this as an opportunity to catch up on other tasks she had been meaning to accomplish. However, there was one thing she was dreading: alone time with Alistair. Last night, he had hinted at wanting to talk about something important, but he hadn't brought it up again since. Despite his upbeat demeanour and cheerful humming as they walked side by side, Gwen couldn't help but feel anxious for that other shoe to drop.

“How did you know to do that?” He asked as soon as Elora was out of earshot.

Gwen shrugged again, “It’s just the basics of interacting with prey animals, stay still and avert your gaze so they don’t see you as a threat and as long as they don’t see you as prey you’re probably safe.”

“Well, consider me amazed. If I’d come clunking along in my armour the Halla would have given me a haircut instead of a kiss and then how would anyone take me seriously if I had a strip missing down the middle of my head?” Picturing the look of dismay that would have crossed Alistair’s face had such a thing come to pass had Gwen giggling.

She wasn’t sure if she’d giggled since she was a child, and Alistair knew it too, it only spurred him on in his quest to make her laugh, “Have you ever thought about a career in animal wrangling?” He elbowed her side playfully and she swatted at his arm.

“What do you think I’m doing now?” She shot back, her eyes crinkled in mirth.

Alistair laughed, “You’ve been spending too much time around Morrigan, you went and spent all your daily allotment of kindness on the Halla and now there is none left for me, I see how it is.”

“You’ll live.”

“Ooh, the indifference of it all!” Alistair clutched at his heart as though she’d stabbed right through it, though he was betrayed by the smile plastered across his face. Gwen giggled again, Maker damn him.

“All jokes aside, I am being sincere. You and the Halla in all your majesty were a sight to behold. One day I’ll have to commission it as a painting.” Alistair's deep, soulful brown eyes held hers with an intensity that made her stomach do somersaults. She couldn't help but feel a heat rise to her cheeks, and she quickly averted her gaze, hoping to hide behind the curtain of her hair. But even as she looked away, she could feel his piercing gaze following her every move, keeping her captive in its powerful hold.

“You’ll hang it in your castle halls, your Highness?” Gwen refused to be the only one embarrassed. Sure enough, out of the corner of her eye, she could see Alistair with a blush to match her own.

“You don’t fight fair, but I appreciate it nonetheless. How about we call a truce until we return to camp?”

“What happens when we get to camp?”

He smirked that adorable, boyish smirk that tugged at her heart, “Then all bets are off.”

Next Chapter

A/N: Thank you for reading! I would love to hear what you think so far :) I only have 15 more chapters to draft before I have them all done, it's gonna be bittersweet, on one hand I love completing a fic, but then I always miss the characters so much!

I hope you enjoyed a little bit of fluff before the break! I will be away without internet for a week, but I will have the next chapter up hopefully by Sunday July 7th, if not it'll be the Monday :)

[seithennyn]

Aždaja // Lamia  // Zmey  // Pozoj // Smok //  Hala

THE WILDFIRE Aždaja (Aždaya, Aždaha) was often also called hala or ala - as the Whirlwind - therefore I chose to make them look similar.  Or in South Serbia - Kulshedra.  Azdaha was a persian snake-like, gigantic monster that had ravenous appetites for men and horses.  But they mostly lived in the seas and air, only coming out when hungry. Then they set the world aflame. So I decided to give Azdaja the colours of the most Slavic stone - connected to seas - the amber. Azdaja was described to have a huge body, mouths wide with lots of teeth, and bright, shiny eyes. When st. George battled and slain the dragon - it was an Azdaja, not a zmey.  

THE  DROUGHT BRINGER Lamia was the reptile, lizard-like creature covered with hard scales of different colours. It had nine heads, which resembled a dog’s in shape. Lamia had sharp, sabre-like teeth and long, dark claw that could pierce any armour. Lamia dwelled in the bottoms of the seas and lakes or hid in the mountainous cavers or in the wilderness of the forest. They would stop the supply of water to people, bringing them drought and destroying their fields, which caused famine. It could only be stopped by killing the beast or offering it a sacrifice.

THE  BENOVOLENT GUARDIAN OR FEROCIOUS BEAST Zmey was a scale-covered serpent-like creature with four legs and bat’s wings. It was said to have from three to twelve heads. But it also had the ability to shapeshift, changing their appearance between the form of a human, animal, smoke or even cloud. In the south, zmeys were known as guardians of the territory and would protect the people inhabiting it from other not so benevolent and gentle creatures and dragons. They usually fought with lamias and hallas, and in return, people left milk, bread and honey for the zmey. But in the north, zmeys were known ferocious beasts, who would only protect their territory and kill every soul who dared to cross their path.

THE WINGLESS GIANT Pozoj was  the giant serpent that dwelled beneath city. It was said to be so big, it had its head under the church and the tail under town square. It movements caused earthquakes so powerful, it could demolish the whole city. Only a wandering scholar (sorcerer’s apprentice) - grabancijaš// črnošolec  - could get rid of pozoj. The most known Pozojs lived under Čakovec and under Zagreb. 

THE WHIRLWIND Hala (or halla) was a dragon, that could also appear as a dense mist, fog, or a black cloud. Hala was believed to be the cause of strong winds,  but also guarded clouds and contained the rain. They brought violent storms and gale to humans, causing floods or simply wreaking havoc.

THE GRASS SNAKE

Smok was a crag-dwelling kind of Hala. So they had smaller wings, as they only used them for leaps and short periods of flying, not as their cousins. Generally, smok is much, much smaller than other kinds of dragons, but still as fierce, ferocious and dangerous.  I decided to give them the colours of summer grass in the mountains - not forgetting about the lighter, yellow collar behind the head - explaining the namE grass snake.

*** for north-wyrm :)  I will try to make a new ilustrations for these designs, in our year 2023!

[aamusedly]

Some jot down info about my Inquisitor Taurel Lavellan for some perspective:

Dalish through defection: he and his parents were city elves who fled when he was almost too young to remember it. Both parents didn't live long after joining Clan Lavellan, Taurel was adopted more wholeheartedly as an orphan.

Mother was a former Tevinter slave. Mercenaries and catchers were hired to track her down and return her, hence the family's flight to the Dalish.

Taurel has an ingrained fear of Tevinter magisters because of this traumatic event.

This is... also why he was reticent to help the mages of Redcliffe, and instead defaulted to Templar assistance. While he empathizes with rebel mages and believes the Templar Order should be dissolved, the involvement of a Tevinter Magistrate kept him from acting.

He deeply regrets this. He has a deep sense of failure and guilt for what happened to the rebel mages and Fiona.

He also pretty deeply resents the Templars because of it.

Taurel is very flighty, airy, hard to pin down. He's not very expressive, he's very guarded but in a notably polite, inoffensive way. He knows what to say to make people happy and placate them, but keeps a lot of himself hidden to nearly everyone. It takes time to get him to open up.

He absolutely hates the Inquisitor thing, but keeps that mostly private. He basically adopts a persona to wear when he's acting official to cope with the mental whiplash.

Enjoys little pranks. It's the easiest way to get him to laugh.

Fucking loves Halla.

Does genuinely care for his allies in the Inquisition, but struggles in showing it, just like he struggles in displaying virtually any emotion.

Is... shockingly very flirty. He's a big seeker of temporary satisfaction, flattery and ego, and sex, to keep himself motivated and stave off loneliness. It takes time to get something more serious out of him.

Has some strong disassociation problems.

Fucking. Loves. Halla .

[gilnoruil]

// REMINDER that any follows will come from my main blog: TheRealShanBear <3

Wanna see more of my art of Gilnoruil? You can find me on deviantArt and on Cara. All my socials are here - Linktree.

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

ABOUT GILNORUIL

Gilnoruil exists in multiple incarnations - the main ones and those I will RP him in are in World of Warcraft, Baldur’s Gate 3, and an original low-fantasy Universe.

Unless specified, I will default to whichever I feel fits to your character or in the case of asks, whichever I feel like at the time.

Here’s a quick overview of each of them! Art on this page by me.

General Mannerisms: Very very rarely contracts his words (he will say ‘do not’ over ‘don’t’) and if he ever does it’s usually a sign of stress.

General Need to Knows: Generally abrasive and slow to trust. Curt, but polite. Can be violent if sufficiently provoked. He’s also quite verbose when he gets talking. Not open to shipping and he will respond to romantic attention accordingly.

World of Warcraft Verse Tags: wowverse, dragon gilnor, headcanonsdragon

General Information

Name: Gilnoruil

Nicknames: Gilnor

Race: Half Black, Half Nether Dragon. Half-elf visage.

Faction: Neutral

Age: 32

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Heterosexual + Demisexual

Marital Status: Taken

Facial Likeness: Corrado Martini

Voice Likeness: Vessel, Sleep Token

Personality Type: INTJ-A (The Architect)

Physical Appearance - Visage

Hair: Black with silver highlights. The silver is at the front, which is usually pulled into four braids over the top of his head, and at the tips.

Eyes: Silver-purple with draconic pupils. If you get close enough, he has sparks in them that look like the reflections of stars.

Height: 6′2′’ / 188cm (without horns)

Build: Slender, athletic - swimmer or gymnast bodytype. Elven build.

Distinguishing Marks: Short pointed ears. Dragon features - arched, jagged horns that fade from burgundy to black. Reddish-black scales framing his face, covering his shoulders and back, and striping his sides and limbs. Long black talon-like claws on both hands. Tail with dark reddish-purple scales and fanned fins that give off a soft blue glow, along with some ‘cracks’ in the upper scales that emit the same light. Fangs in place of his canines. He can hide these features and look like a plain half-elf, but most of the time he refuses.

Accessories: Silver spiked horn guards, a silver dragon-shaped hair clip over his braids with a blue gem. When wearing a cloak, a guitar shaped pin made of silver wire and centred with a white-opaline gemstone.

Personal Information

Profession: None, he does what he wants.

Hobbies: Singing, playing instruments, dragonracing.

Languages: Common, Draconic, Thalassian, Draenei. Rudimentary understanding of Orcish but doesn't read or speak it.

Residence: Valdrakken.

Birthplace: Blade’s Edge Mountains - Outland.

More Details (Drake Appearance, Relationships, RP Hooks) and Other Verses Below >

Physical Appearance - Drake

As pictured. A little bigger than a ‘standard’ drake, but not as big as a full ‘adult’ dragon.

Has two breath weapons; fire / lava and nether energies.

Relationships

Parents: black dragon mother (deceased), nether dragon father (missing, presumed by him to be deceased)

Siblings: None. Although he does take a little shining to Rusziona.

Leader: Sabellian sort of. He was raised among Sabellian’s brood, but does not consider himself a member of it.

Partner: Halla Grimbear, Kul'tiran Druid.

Children: None.

RP Hooks

Generally unknown, but can attract attention due to his ‘strange’ appearance.

Often found around Valdrakken, at the inn or libraries learning all he can about the history of his race.

He will often perform music at the inns, singing and playing either his harp or his lute.

Baldur’s Gate 3 Verse Tags: bg3verse, tiefling gilnor, headcanonstiefling

General Information

Name: Gilnoruil Eldarin

Nicknames: Gilnor

Race: Dragon-blood Asmodeous Tiefling

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral (Chaotic Good under the influence of his beloved)

Backstory: Dark Urge

Age: 27 (he doesn’t know how old he is though)

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Bisexual + Demisexual

Marital Status: Taken (he is polyamorous in this verse)

Facial Likeness: Corrado Martini

Voice Likeness: Vessel, Sleep Token

Personality Type: INTJ-A (The Architect)

Physical Appearance

Hair: Black with silver highlights. The silver is at the front, which is usually pulled back into a ponytail.

Eyes: Silver-purple with draconic pupils. After a certain key plot moment, if you get close enough, he has sparks in them that look like the reflections of stars.

Height: 6′2′’ / 188cm (without horns)

Build: Slender, athletic - swimmer or gymnast bodytype.

Distinguishing Marks: Pale skintone. Horns that curl back over his head fading from burgundy to black. Metallic reddish-black scales framing his face, covering his shoulders and back, and striping his sides and limbs. Long black talon-like claws on both hands. Pointed ears and tail as standard for tieflings. Fangs at his canines.

Accessories: Always wears black and silver. Long, elegant staff with an ice-blue crystal at the top that exudes cold.

Personal Information

Class: Sorcerer.

Hobbies: Singing, playing instruments, murder.

Languages: Common, Infernal.

Residence: Baldur’s Gate.

Birthplace: Unknown.

Relationships

Parents: Unknown.

Siblings: Unknown (Orin, by Bhaal)

Partners: Halla Grimbear, Human Druid + Astarion Ancunin, high-elf vampire.

Children: None.

Original Merman Verse Tags: aermaraverse, mer gilnor, headcanonsmer

General Information

Name: Gilnoruil Eldarin

Nicknames: Gilnor

Race: Mer (ocean-dwelling)

Title: Crown Prince of Aer Mara and the North Sea Realm.

Age: 27

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Heterosexual + Demisexual

Marital Status: Taken

Facial Likeness: Corrado Martini

Voice Likeness: Vessel, Sleep Token

Personality Type: INTJ-A (The Architect)

Star Sign: Scorpio

Physical Appearance

Hair: Black with silver highlights. The silver is at the front, which is usually pulled into four braids over the top of his head.

Eyes: Silver-blue. If you get close enough, he has sparks in them that look like the reflections of stars.

Height: 6′2′’ / 188cm - about 7ft long in his true form.

Build: Slender, athletic - swimmer or gymnast bodytype.

Distinguishing Marks: He can take a human form to walk on land and amongst humans without revealing what he really is. There is nothing particularly ‘distinguishing’ about him, perhaps save the starlight in his eyes.

Mer Form: Pointed ears. Black fishtail that begins at his abdomen. Scales have silver edging which glows when he’s feeling amorous. In the same circumstance, he also gets patterns of silver scales over his human half (sides of his face, backs of his arms, and his sides). Large betta-like caudal fin with silver veins. Two small wing-fins on either side, and a short frill fin down the back of his tail from the start to about halfway down. Gills on his waist towards his back.

Personal Information

Profession: Prince and he hates it. Bakery delivery person in the human world.

Hobbies: Singing, playing instruments, avoiding court, dancing.

Languages: English, Aer Maran.

Residence: Aer Mara, then later a seaside port-town in England.

Birthplace: Aer Mara.

Relationships

Parents: Thrandiel, King of Aer Mara (father), Sileveth, Queen of Aer Mara (mother).

Siblings: Ondolinde (younger sister).

Partner: Halla Grimbear, human.

Children: None.

[nirikeehan]

I heard no one's sent you some Awful Shit™ yet tonight SO: Thalia & Samson, 14 days of lovers prompts, "Ravish"

well you know what, it's September and I've been picking at this horrific scene for at least six months and I'm sick of seeing this prompt in my inbox so have a terrible taste of what I have in mind for a future chapter of Through a Glass, Darkly.

For @dadrunkwriting

WC: 970

CW: Impending dubcon/non con implied

---

Inside the lord’s chambers a fire was roaring in the hearth, and Samson had made himself at home. Furniture of traditional Orlesian make was strewn haphazardly about, competing with the ensemble of someone with garish yet expensive taste. A whole rack of polished swords glinted in the firelight; surfaces overflowed with bottles of wine and spirits and other unmentionables. For some reason, a dead halla stood stuffed and erect not far from the ornate four-poster bed. 

Samson reclined on the sofa, a jeweled goblet in hand. His eyes glowed red with the reflection of the flames. Or was it something else? Before him the low table was covered in vices. A silver platter lay with traces of glittering scarlet dust upon it, and that was what Thalia had a difficult time looking away from. 

The guards paraded her in front of him, then hastily retreated. Thalia stood between the fireplace and the man on the sofa, trying not to tremble. The heat of the fire was at her back, so at least she was warm. 

“Good evening.” Samson’s voice was slurred, more so than usual. Thalia forced herself to look him in the face. His grin looked ghoulish in the dim light, but there was no mistaking the glazed look in his eyes. He’d had a number of indulgences tonight, and she could tell from his expression alone he expected more. 

“Hello, Samson.” Thalia kept her voice calm and even. This was precisely what she had bargained for — she had no right to be surprised. 

“You’re looking particularly lovely tonight,” Samson said, taking a deep sip from his cup. 

“Thank you.” 

He cocked his head, indicating the cushion beside him. “Why don’t you take a seat?” 

Heart thumping, Thalia walked around the table to the desired spot. Her bare knee poked out of the slit in her skirt; she caught Samson eyeing her pale flesh and her skin crawled. She almost wished he would dispense with the pretext and get on with it. 

She sat as demurely as she could, no easy task in a dress with so many holes. She crossed over leg over another and folded her hands on top. Samson was, to her relief, not in his red lyrium armor. He wore a black jerkin over a loose shirt, embroidered with cloth-of-gold and crimson thread, matching breeches. An attempt to look civilized, Thalia thought distastefully, yet still leagues better than the monstrous, interlocking bits of metal that thrummed and burned without heat. 

“Wine?” Samson asked, swinging the goblet in her face. 

Thalia shook her head. “No, thank you.” Whatever happened, she needed her wits about her, she decided. 

Samson shrugged. “Suit yourself. It’s the finest vintage from the Heartland region of Orlais, supposedly. Sweet like plums and honey... though not half so much as you.” 

Thalia tried her best not to cringe. “Why all this flattery? You’ve already won.” 

“Ah, love, I’m hurt.” Samson smirked. “Didn’t I tell you I could be a gentleman? I’m trying to prove that to you.” 

“I’d rather you didn’t.” Thalia tried to find a point in the room to look at that that wasn’t him. She settled on a marble bust on the far side of the hearth. 

Samson rasped out a laugh that turned to a deep-seated cough. “Oh, is that right? You’d rather have me at my worst, would you? Little better than the guttersnipe from Kirkwall, is that how you see me?” 

Thalia examined her shaking hands, refusing to dignify him with a response. 

Samson sighed, putting down the goblet. He leaned closer, brows knit, appraising her. “I’d like to see you with your hair down. Is that too much to ask?” 

“I suppose you might not know.” Thalia swallowed. “Highborn Ostwick girls are not supposed to let their hair loose around unmarried men. It’s a terrible faux pas.” 

“Mm.” Samson slouched against the sofa cushions, propping his chin up on his elbow. “It’s a good thing we’re not in Ostwick then, eh?” 

She thought of the times Cullen had removed the pins from her hair at the end of a long day, the two of them reveling in the sensual freedom. He was the only man outside her own family she’d ever let see her hair down. She missed him with a painful certainty, and hoped he would be able to forgive her for this. 

Thalia reached behind her head and began to pluck the pins from her braids. Samson watched with growing fascination as she deposited one after another on the table beside the silver platter. He must have been snorting the red lyrium, based on the residue. How much had he had? Was he planning to do more? 

Thalia set to work unraveling the multiple braids she had plaited into her hair this morning. At last she shook it all out, so that her auburn hair hung in heavy waves about her shoulders and down her back. 

A stray strand fell across her face. Samson leaned forward, brushing it aside. His fingers grazed her cheek, rough and calloused and raw. Nails bit down to the quick, with dirt and who knew what else caked beneath them. Thalia shuddered. 

“I’m not a complete monster, you know,” he murmured. “I’d prefer you enjoy yourself, too.”  

Something in Thalia’s chest twisted painfully. “I don’t see how that will be possible.”

Samson leaned past her, snatched the wine bottle, and poured the red-black liquid to the brim of a goblet matching his own. “That’s a good start.” He pressed it into her hand. 

Thalia raised her eyebrows. “Is that how you woo all your women? Get them too drunk to resist?” 

Samson let out a guffaw. “Not all. But everyone knows unpleasant things go down a lot sweeter with some wine in your belly. So drink up, dear heart.”

[transandersrights]

Happy Friday!! Maybe for Isabela and/or Merrill:

Enigma - a person or thing that is mysterious, puzzling, or difficult to understand.

Have fun!!

(I take prompts! See info here)

Thank you for the prompt! I always love writing about Merrill so :D for @dadrunkwriting, here you go: 1.1k of outsider POV on Merrill (with a smattering of a red f!Hawke). Content warnings for violence and blood, you know the DA drill.

The Dalish woman who moved in at the end of the street defies every attempt Parelli makes at understanding her.

Parelli knows about the Dalish; who doesn’t? She’s never met one until Merrill, but she knows enough. Dalish are free in a way she can’t be. Dalish are resourceful, exciting, and occasionally brutal. They do whatever they can to keep themselves safe and preserve the traditions of their ancestors, and that’s fine by Parelli. It doesn’t touch her life and, until now, she thought it never really would.

Merrill loses her keys on her second day in the alienage, admits it in front of a small crowd of people, and actually seems surprised when she comes home one day not a week later to find her pantry emptied out. Merrill’s greatest passion in life appears to be between entertaining stray kittens and regaling everyone who’ll ask her with the most mundane stories about the Dalish that Parelli can imagine (seriously, who cares about halla who eat laundry?). Merrill is the gentlest person Parelli has ever met.

It doesn’t fit. She’s not what Dalish are said to be. She’s nowhere near. If Parelli thought Merrill had a deceptive bone in her body, she’d think it an intentional reversal of what everyone is expecting her to be.

It’s unlikely. Merrill hasn’t said why she’s left her Clan, beyond vague allusions to spreading her wings, getting some air, having the chance to run free. Twee things that hide what Parelli is sure must be a darker truth. Whatever she’s claiming, though, Parelli thinks she probably just isn’t Dalish enough to stay with the Dalish.

At least, that’s what she thinks until the incident.

Parelli doesn’t normally ply her trade in Hightown; it’s too risky. The guard can chase her off soon as anything, or worse, put her in prison. But sometimes a ship full of rich traders and wannabe adventurers weighs anchor in port, and the payoff is worth the risk. The incident occurs on one such night.

It goes the way so many of her people go: she stays a little too late. There’s coin weighing her pockets down now, enough to see her and her family through the next few weeks. She’s sharp at night as a general rule, but not sharp enough to outrun more than one or two muggers at once, let alone all the ones that flood from three separate streets on her route through Lowtown.

Everything happens too late, too fast, too close to home. She won’t get a night with custom like this for a long time, and she’s unwilling to give this up.

She makes a break for it.

She knows as soon as she tries that it’s a terrible idea, unfriendly knives glinting under the moonlight, boots pounding after her. Oh, this is going to hurt— if she even makes it out alive.

It doesn’t occur to her to scream; it’s Lowtown. No one will come. As it turns out, she doesn’t need to.

Two figures appear behind the assailant cutting her off, one unfamiliar with a sword of her own, and one exceedingly familiar: Merrill. The Dalish woman down the road. The one everyone knows is a mage, logically, but just don’t say anything about because she’s obvious enough and the Templars haven’t even come knocking — she’s protected.

Protected, but never the protector. Not until Parelli watches her slam the top of her staff against the mugger’s head.

“Run!” she calls, and Parelli almost follows her word. Except…

She doesn’t know why she stays, exactly. Maybe it’s just a feeling. Maybe she wants to see if she can help. Maybe she’s just always been curious to a fault.

So when she darts away to the corner and turns around to see the remaining would-be thieves distracted, she’s surprised not at herself but something else.

Parelli hasn’t seen magic since just before the little one down the road got bundled out of the city in the middle of the night, parents feigning mourning for an accident they all know never happened. Yet she knows, more through instinct than anything else — the lurch in her gut, the moment of sheer terror — that this is blood magic.

The muggers start screaming. Not more than a few seconds later, they’re all dead, and Parelli realises she hasn’t even run yet.

“Oh, that was nasty.” Merrill wipes the blood from her hands onto a dark scrap of cloth. “I do so hope… oh! You’re not gone.”

Parelli startles; the other woman whips around to face her too. “I was— I can just get going now—”

“She’s seen rather a lot for someone who should be long gone.” Now, Parelli realises she’s seen this woman before, around the alienage. Helping people, or so she’d probably claim. “She’s seen…”

Merrill looks over at the bodies. She clearly doesn’t know that their blood splatters her face, too; it catches the moonlight. She looks every part the picture of a ghost tale. “You should get home.”

“She should not—”

“Hawke.” There’s steel in her voice and sunshine in her smile as she turns fully to Parelli. Yet when she speaks once more, she sounds different all over again. “Please, go. I can shadow you home, if you’d feel safer.”

‘Hawke’ snorts. “You’re too soft. You’ll follow her home, because it’s dark and you don’t know the way.”

Merrill huffs, but she doesn’t look overly offended. “I’ll be fine, thank you. But there might be more of them, so…”

“Go, go.” Hawke waves her off. “But you get to tell Varric about this, not me.”

“Of course! Why wouldn’t I? It makes such a thrilling tale.”

At this point, Parelli just starts walking and hopes beyond hope that Hawke forgets who she is. That would be best.

“Oh, wait! I can’t protect you from this far away.” Parelli pauses for just a moment, and sure enough, Merrill follows; then follows her all the way to her door, waiting by the vhenadahl until Parelli closes the door behind herself, all her money still in her purse and all her limbs intact.

She deflates as soon as the door closes, heart racing. None of that made sense. She shouldn’t be here right now, like this. She shouldn’t be okay.

And yet she is. All because of Merrill.

The Dalish woman who moved in at the end of the street defies every attempt Parelli makes at understanding her. She doesn’t think that’s going to change soon. Everything anyone has ever told her about mages generally or blood magic specifically should tell her that it’s dangerous to even try.

Still. She thinks she’d like to know her better anyway.