#linarel laimelin

[roguelioness]

14. Burn for DWC please? ❤️😍

Thank you for the prompt, @ladylike-foxes​ ♥

For @dadrunkwriting​

Burn

He had too much hidden knowledge, and one day, it would all incinerate him.

His secrets.

Her secrets.

He watched her as she sat cross-legged on the couch, one that he knew from personal experience was not the most comfortable. Tendrils of that satin-soft hair had escaped from where they had been pulled back into a ponytail, and framed a face that was deep in focus. Her head was buried in yet another book, the firelight from the sconce dancing across the many scars that decorated her face - decorated and not marred, never marred, never, never, she was beautiful, wonderful, she was-

A Dalish who was not Dalish, an elf who knew cities but was not from them, but she was not one of his people- she wasn’t, she wasn’t-

She wasn’t, and that was infuriating, for she was better than many of those who had walked the land during his time.

but she wasn’t

She looked up, caught his gaze. “Solas.” her voice, quiet as always, but he was warmed at the trust and affection it held - then he remembered the truth of him that she knew not, and that warmth turned to a bitter chill. “I could use your help.”

“Of course, da’len,” but she was no child, not his woman - and when had that happened? She was not his, not his, not his, despite what he knew of her past, despite what he knew of what she’d done - no, she could not be, she could never be-

Could she not? that traitorous voice in his head murmured. You know what she tastes like. 

It was a memory of a dream, but even as faint as it was his lips burned as he recalled the softness of hers. The gentle flare of her hips. How his hand fit so perfectly in the lovely dip of her waist. He both hated and loved that she had been the first to make the move- hated that it felt almost like an offering to a forbidden god, loved that she had made herself vulnerable only to him.

He wanted, he wanted, he wanted- but no, he should not, he could not, he could not... 

could he not?

Oh, but everything about her burned in every way it was possible.

“What it is?”

“This word here. Harellan-” he felt his blood heat up at unwelcome recollections, “is it related to harel? Rebel?”

“Indeed. The ancient meaning of harellan was rebel, not the action, but the people undertaking it.”

“Hmm.” She drew her lip between her teeth. He wanted to lick his tongue there. 

“I sense you have something else on your mind.”

She turned her leonine gaze, suddenly fierce, suddenly rebellious, up to him. “If harel means to rebel, then Fen’harel would mean rebel wolf, and not trickster. And if he truly was a rebel, then... then I am glad that I follow him.”

Oh, she would end him, set him ablaze with desire and pride, and-

-and he would let her.

[roguelioness]

Scars

He could see that Val Royeaux sat heavy on her soul, the Chantry mother’s words a slow-bubbling acid. It made little sense. Why would she let herself be affected by such inanities, such meaningless blatherings, when he knew her to be certain of her own motives?

Unless… unless they had woken old, painful memories..

She had taken first watch. Cassandra and the dwarf were fast asleep, and he should have been in the Fade, but curiosity had gotten the best of him. He sat next to her, close enough to have a whispered conversation, but not so close that he would be intruding into her personal space.

“You seem troubled, da’len.”

She gave a mirthless chuckle. “That obvious, is it?”

“Surely you cannot believe what the Chantry says. And as for the Lord Seeker, even Cassandra admits that he does not seem his usual self-”

“It’s not that.”

“What is it, then?”

Her lips parted slightly, as though she were about to speak, but she hesitated. “Old wounds.”

“If they trouble you so greatly, perhaps you should talk of them, da’len. Do not let the poison fester.”

She let out a long, slow, sigh. “Ah, ha’hren, the truth is my burden to bear.”

“It need not be.”

She sighed again, poked the fire with a long stick. Little sparks jumped out from the logs, drawing attention to the scars on her face. She’d told him once, that she had been attacked by an animal while on a hunt, and he could believe it. He observed her face now, the many claw-like cicatrix that covered her cheeks. It must have been a vicious attack; indeed, one of the marks was perilously close to her right eye.

She shifted restlessly, stretching her legs out, then drawing them in close to her chest, wrapping her hands around her knees. “You don’t like the Dalish, do you?”

The question caught him off-guard. “My experiences with them have not been very positive,” he replied cautiously.

“Why?”

“They- I have learned a great deal from the Fade. When I offered to share my knowledge with them, I was met with… intense opposition. They strike me as obstinately close-minded.”

“You’re not wrong,” she muttered.

“You have-” he cleared his throat. “You have never mentioned a clan?”

“That’s because I don’t have one. Not anymore.”

“Would you like to talk about it?”

“You’ll get all judgey, so no.”

“Does it have something to do with your name?”

Her eyes flew to his, fury burning in their depths. “What would you know of my name? What would you know of me? You, who calls himself Pride, you want to judge me?”

He remained calm. “I judge people on the merit of their actions, and no more.”

Her shoulders sagged. After a long, long silence, she spoke softly. “I had a clan once. Clan Lavellan. We- They wander the Free Marches mostly. I think they’re near Wycome now. The Keeper… the Keeper was my mother.”

“Why would she bestow such a name on you?”

“I wasn’t always Linarel, you know. I… the Keeper took away my name after…” she swallowed, hard, and Solas could see, in the firelight, the sheen of tears in her eyes. “The Dalish… if you wish to be a hunter, you must pass a Trial. Sight a predator, track it, and slay it, then return with the pelt. It proves to the clan that you can protect them, as a hunter must.”

“Something happened during your Trial.”

She nodded. “A large wolf. It had been attacking our halla pen, nearly killed one of the halla. The Keeper warned me not to go after it, to leave the creature for the other, more experienced hunters. But I wanted to prove myself… so I set off after it. But I was careless in my tracking, and-” she gestured to her face. “The hunter became the hunted.” The sound that followed after that statement was filled with bitterness. “I fought it the best I could, but it was strong. Very strong. I could feel myself dying, and- I was scared. I didn’t want to die. So I prayed to the Creators. I prayed to Mythal, to Andruil, to Ghila’nain. I pleaded with Elgar’nan, begged Falon’din to spare me, cried out to Dirthamen and June. No one answered me, There was nothing but the sound of the wolf tearing into my flesh. I could feel my life trickling away from me, In desperation…” she cleared her throat, turned her head away. “I prayed to Fen’harel. I implored him to save me. I promised that I would serve him, and only him, for the rest of my life if he would come to my aid. I even swore my soul to him, in exchange for my life.”

A strange swirl of unnamed emotions churned within him. “What happened?”

“The wolf left. It could have killed me, but I think it was distracted, and left me. And even then, I could have died, but- I didn’t. Another hunter found me, I don’t know how much time had passed, but he found me and took me back to the clan. And even though I had failed my Trial, the elders were impressed enough that I had fought the wolf and lived, to deem that I was worthy of receiving my vallaslin.”

He watched as she traced her face idly with her fingertips. “I had wanted Andruil’s but after the encounter I decided on Sylaise. Everything was ready, they had blooded me, the ink mixture was prepared fresh, the needles were passed through flame. They even had fresh bedding for me, straw and lavender so I would remain calm. I shut my eyes, bit down on the leather strap the ha’hren ghi’myelan gave me. The pain… it was terrible, but I made no sound. It took them all morning to tattoo the design on me. By mid-afternoon, the vallaslin was gone, as though it had never been there.”

She looked at him now, giving him a half-sided smile. The scar near her lip lifted, and he had the sudden, strange impulse to reach out and stroke it. Instead, he took up the stick and stirred the embers of their campfire. “I am sure that would have puzzled the Keeper.”

“It did,” he watched out of the corner of his eye as she drew out the dagger she always kept on her belt, and began to sharpen it. Her way of fidgeting, he thought to himself. “They tried many times more, but it wouldn’t take. They tried using more of my blood, then no blood, but the ink would not remain in my skin. They thought it was the scars, had the healers prepare potions and poultices, but even those did not help. They thought perhaps I was not meant for Sylaise, but none of the other Creators fared any better. The clan was confused - and scared. They had never encountered a person being so thoroughly rejected by the gods. They did not know what to do, and they were frightened of what would happen if they let me stay. The Keeper... my mother… she came to me one night, with the elders. They gave me a potion to drink.” She exhaled heavily. “Orichalcum, deathroot, and prophet’s laurel. Extracted under the right conditions and mixed in the correct quantities, it makes a potion that will make the drinker speak only the truth.”

“They learned of your vow to Fen’harel.”

“Yes.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “They were so angry, so betrayed. They stripped my name from me, stripped it from my mind. Linarel, the Keeper was so, so sad. My name, a warning. They would not keep me in the clan. My mother sent me out, in the dead of a new moon’s night, with only my bow and nothing else. For years, I wandered, avoiding both the shems and the Dalish. For years, I kept no one’s company but my own. But…” she shrugged. “One can only be alone for so long. I feared my voice would leave if I did not use it. So I found myself in a town. Found a mercenary company that would have me. Found people to talk with, people who did not know the meaning of my name. It wasn’t so bad. They think me dead, but I survived. ”

He did not know why he was so angry. “Could they not have excused you given the circumstances? You were young. You were dying. You would have perished! Was it so wrong to-”

Her short bark of laughter was filled with the harshness of experience. “They would rather I had died, than swear myself to Fen’harel,” she explained. She shook her head. “But the truth is, I do not regret it. I may have lost my home and my name, but the Dread Wolf kept me alive when everyone else would have let me die. He may be a Trickster, but he came to my aid when I needed him the most. And even though the clan thought I would die by myself, I did not, so he must have had a hand in keeping me alive.”

“A heavy punishment. To lose your name, your clan…”

“Some days I wonder if I would have been better off dead,” she confessed. “But I made a promise, and I will keep it. I would rather walk with Fen’harel than live with cowards.”

He did not know what to say to that.  At last, he spoke. “Why did the chantry mother affect you so?”

“The Chantry believes I am no Herald of Andraste. I agree. I am no Herald, and I do not believe in this Andraste. That I am alive - that I am still alive - is because of Fen’harel, is it not?” Her laugh was genuine, and it warmed him.

What she said next, he would never forget. If I am the Herald of anyone, it would be the Dread Wolf.

[roguelioness]

"Salt" for Lin and Minaeve!

Thanks for the prompt, @ma-sulevin​ ♥

For @dadrunkwriting​

Salt

Linarel had been practicing by the docks near dead Master Teigan’s hut when she first encountered the creature researcher.

“That’s a Dalish technique, isn’t it?” the quiet young woman had asked.

It had made her pucker up, like the time when she accidentally tasted Fravun’s brine solution, the one he made for tanning.

“Yes,” she’d replied, then walked away.

But the question, as innocent as it had been, had brought up memories of a past Linarel tried her best to bury. Three nights in a row she woke from nightmares, gasping and clutching her face, seeking solace in the grooves of the scars that adorned her skin.

She hated those dreams, the ones that made her feel like she was not good enough. They sent her back to that place, that time, when she was helpless and worthless and weak, and she was none of them, not any more. The lingering fear turned to anger, anger that a simple question from an equally simple woman had returned her to this pitiful state.

She would not allow it.

The creature researcher was tinkering away in the small room that served as her workshop, hunched over the table, the sharp edge of the blade in her hand glinting in the copious firelight.

“How did you know it was Dalish?” she asked, somewhat spitefully amused as the other woman gasped and dropped her knife.

“What?” Minaeve stared at her.

“The other day, when I was practicing. You knew it was Dalish. How?”

Minaeve’s face was blank, but Lin could see the embers of unpleasant memories glow in the depths of her eyes. That was unexpected. And surprising. The creature researcher had always projected an image of plain and boring. Now it seemed as though she had secrets of her own.

Minaeve turned away, and carefully set aside what she’d been working on. It took several moments, but Lin was nothing if patient.

“I was born Dalish,” Minaeve said quietly, her back still to Lin.

“But you said you were an apprentice at a Circle?”

The short haired woman’s jaw was clenched tightly when she faced Lin again. “I was a mage. The Keeper was concerned that there were too many of us. Too much magic, she said, would draw the attention of the humans. So she made a pack for me, and sent me off into the woods by myself. I was seven.”

Her heart clenched, not with pity - though she felt plenty of it - but with rage. A Keeper was supposed to be kind. A mage in the clan was a precious gift, and would never be cast aside. That Minaeve’s Keeper had done so - and to a child at that - was unforgivable.

Then the realization that here, too, was another Dalish outcast took over, and she wanted to laugh. To find another kindred spirit in the middle of nowhere, under the strangest of conditions - clearly, Fen’harel had a sense of humor.

“My clan exiled me,” she offered when the other woman fell silent. “I would have been a Hunter. They accused me of blasphemy and cast me out.”

Minaeve had shrugged on her coat. “I need a drink,” she stated, quite bluntly. 

“Me too.”

Two Dalish outcasts who held little love for the Dalish. Two women who, despite all circumstances, remained as fiercely independent as they were able. Two women with bitter pasts, and brackish memories.

So Linarely found it strange when she kissed the creature researcher in the doorway of that briny workshop, that Minaeve’s lips tasted so very sweet.

[roguelioness]

I am crazy attached to her? And I don’t know why?

Linarel Laimelin

[roguelioness]

2 am Linarel headcanon: Linarel and Minaeve bond over their Dalish experiences, and they have a brief fling. (They both know it can't go anywhere, not with the title Lin has been given).

Solas stumbles across the two having sex one night. He doesn't mind the view. 👀

[roguelioness]

Roguelioness Writes Masterpost

DAI NPC One-shots

Giles

Refugee Hunter

Hyndel Sr.

Lisette

Adan

Mihris

Widow Maura

Bianca

One-eyed Jimmy

Bron

Redcliffe Storyteller

Scout Liesel

Enchanter Ellendra

Lord Berand

Elven Widower

Farmer’s Market Solas [Solas x Neria Lavellan] [NSFW]

Apples - Fruit has never quite looked so appealing before.

Strawberries - Daydreaming during a dinner date.

Oranges - Breakfast the morning after.

Pomegranate - Reshaping old memories into better ones.

Bananas - A helping hand... in more ways than one.

Grapes - Making things better after some unkind gossip.

Peaches - A vacation at the beach turns to more.

Mangoes - A gift from a friend offers a new shared experience.

Melons - Distraction has never felt better.

Apple Pie - Baking together has its advantages.

Random One-Shots

Clambering [slightly NSFW] - The reader goes rock climbing with Cullem

Still - Lavellan knows why she loves the Dread Wolf.

Bellanaris - He will not settle for ephemeral when he desires eternity.

Epicure - Lavellan doesn’t share food.

Dreaded - she would become the monster he hunted to keep him safe.

Sustenance - His dreams were torture, but they kept him going.

Recall - The Inquisitor keeps notes on all her companions.

Moving On - Lavellan searches for love after Solas breaks her heart.

Deliverance - The growth of Cullen, Templar, Knight-Captain, Commander of the Inquisition.

Perseverance - Lavellan does not shatter when Solas leaves.

Solace Sought - He kept his promise, but he paid too high a price.

Love Still Kept Open - Solas gives Lavellan the strength to keep her promise.

Vengeance - [Dark AU] Solas wants revenge for Lavellan.

Bitter, Sweet [NSFW] - A collab with @tel-abelas-mofo! Solas cannot resist Lavellan, even when he tries.

Moo-ving Shenanigans - Bull is drunk, and thinks Krem is dead [light-hearted!]

Fear - She thought she knew what lurked in the dark, but she was wrong.

Vacillation - Varric debates whether or not the Inquisition needs Hawke.

The Beginning of the End - Solas and Leana deal with the news of Mythal’s death.

The huntress and the enchanter - a non-canon fairy tale AU of Solas and Lavellan.

Once Upon A Dream - Lavellan can’t stop thinking about Solas (a gift for @designfailure56)

Linarel Laimelin

Giving In - Linarel and Minaeve’s escapade is discovered by Solas. [NSFW]

Burn - Solas fights his attraction for the Dalish outcast.

Scars - Linarel tells Solas about her past.

A Rogue’s Finesse [Daniella “Dani” Trevelyan] [Clumsquisitor]

Chapter 1 - Before The Inquisition

Chapter 2 - Haven

Chapter 3 - The Hinterlands

Fictober 2018 Masterpost

Vanessa Cousland x Alistair [canon and non-canon]

Divergence [Post- Landsmeet] - Alistair and Vanessa must live with their decisions.

Break Faith With Me - Vanessa is furious with Anora, and isn’t afraid to let the Queen know.

Not So Sneaky [College AU] - Alistair can’t quite hide his eavesdropping.

Sundered - She thought he loved her. Why would he do this?

Falling [Tower of Ismal] - This was where they would die.

Deirdre Hawke x Fenris [canon and non-canon]

Blame - Why was she held responsible for everything?

Blossom - Deirdre can’t help but think about her siblings.

Sweet Defeat [NSFW] - A sparring session becomes quite heated.

Fen’asha Lavellan x Solas [non-canon]

Forget You Had Memories, Lover Mine - Harsh truths and bitter memories.

Spider’s Web - Who is the real enemy?

Neria Lavellan x Solas [canon and non-canon]

In Your Heart Shall Burn - Fen’harel needs one more thing before he can set his plan in motion.

New Lives (Papa! Solas) - Solas anxiously awaits the arrival of his child.

Tangled In Lies - Solas learns the price of deceit.

The Length Of His Shadow - Even when he is not with her, he watches over her.

Ties That Bind [NSFW] - Lavellan entices Solas with the antaam-saar.

Temptation - Solas does not believe himself to be impulsive.

Dread [canon] - He is the monster her people made him out to be.

The Other Side [canon] - He made his choice, and he must live with it.

Bedtime Stories [canon] - Solavellan fluff. 

Chaos [canon] - Neria encounters Solas at the end of Trespasser.

Till Death Do Us Part - There is but one truth he was certain of, and now she is no longer.

The Villains They Play - He was never her enemy, but he cannot see that.

Distractions and Delays [NSFW] - Neria has a meeting with Josephine, but Solas has other plans.

Remorse - She has no place to go to, not even her sanctuary.

Amaryllis Trevelyan x Cullen Rutherford

 Nightmares - Cullen comforts Amaryllis after a nightmare.

Sniffles - Amaryllis is sick, and doesn’t like it one bit.

The Lion, Her Rock - He keeps her grounded when she feels like she’s falling apart.

Heart and Home - She’s worse for wear, but will not wait to get back to him.

Reminders - Amaryllis is reminded of what’s most important to her.

Danielle [Dani] Trevelyan x Iron Bull

Exquisite - He marvels at what their relationship brings.

Megara Tabris x Zevran Aranai

Puissant - Zevran’s target isn’t as easy as he thought.

Krem x Inquisitor 

Shadows In The Spotlight - Krem watches her from the sidelines.

Realization - He wants her, but she belongs to someone else.

Krem x Maryden

Silver Tongues - Krem is fascinated by the minstrel in Haven’s tavern.

For Her - He needs to keep her safe. He must.

A Whole New World Drabbles [Samarra Bayart]

Indulgence [slightly NSFW?] - Solas’ POV from Chapter 27. Eating cake has never sounded more erotic. 

Unfading Desires [NSFW] - spin-off from Chapter 80; Samarra decides to enjoy Fen’harel’s personal chamber the best she can.

Where She Does Walk - Solas talks to Samarra about the choices she is faced with.

Stained Glass Smiles - A snippet of Samarra’s life on Earth.

The First Thing On Her Mind - When she falls, she calls for him.

Errors And Guilt - Samarra’s decision results in a near-fatal mistake.

Seduction [NSFW] - Samarra teases Solas with stockings.

Maybe - Samarra is faced with a man she knows well, but she has to hide it from him.

Tears - Samarra reminisces about her fiance.

Hawke And Co.

Red Herring - Hawke is up to no good, and Varric is along for the ride.

She Has Both Warmth And Flame - Varric is concerned about Bethany’s insistence to accompany Hawke to the Deep Roads.

Impulsive - Hawke confesses her feelings over a beer bottle.

Cognizance - Carver has some revelations about his sister.

Original Works [random]

Sorcha of Asvor [original work] - done for @designfailure56‘s original character.

Pasta Fever [original work] - Crack! fic as a result of a conversation with @kaoruyogi