#melava lavellan

[malewifezevran]

sleepyheads 🥱

[malewifealistair]

happiest of birthdays to my dear @malewifezevran !!! 💛💚 i finally drew our lavellans together 🥺

[blindvogel]

I've recently finished my replay of DAI before Veilguard release and it's interesting what I either forgot in the past ten years or just simply didn't notice as significant. Like the fact that wolf howls lead you up the mountain after Haven to find the rest of the refugees. I like to think that my Lavellan would see the significance, and much later the pain and irony of the situation.

~~~

It is during their third day traversing the Emerald Graves that Ylva spots what she had been looking for, half hidden from view by a copse of trees and other foliage. She considers for a moment if there is an option to sneak away from her traveling party for a moment but then reconsiders given the Red Templar presence in the area. As much as she is not looking forward to the commentary she would hate an ambush even more. So she leads them off the beaten path before gesturing for them to wait. 

"I only need a moment, it won't take long," she says then quickly scurries off before anyone can ask her what this is about. They'll figure it out in a moment anyway as she weaves between the trees until she reaches the worn stone statue of a wolf resting on a low pedestal, his head lowered to look at whoever would approach him. 

She pulls a small bundle out of her pack, wrapped in wool and held together with string, and places it between the paws. An offering that she hopes is adequate for what has been given. 

"Ma melava halani, Fen'harel. Ma serannas lasa ghilan." she says, then looks up at the wolf looking down at her. He is weathered but intact which is a good sign, and what hand had carved him chose to make it just so that his eyes look kind from this angle. She is just tall enough that when she tentatively reaches up she can put her hand on the side of his muzzle. She doesn't know why the Dread Wolf saved her life up on that mountain but she believes in what her Keeper has taught her, what her own interpretation of the myths tells her. And she owes him thanks.

[mocksfate]

✧ ━━━━━ a never ending dance with luck.

#mocksfate: (prev url. inflictswounds) independent, highly selective, mutuals/friends only roleplay blog featuring 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐝𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐬 & 𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐝𝐮𝐫'𝐬 𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝟑 muses with a focus on original characters but happy to write canon characters as well. forever dmed by nora ( 27 yrs old, she/her. rules & muses under the read more. )

# dance partner : @fatemocked . # current interest: 𝗱𝗿𝗮𝗴𝗼𝗻 𝗮𝗴𝗲.

✧ ━━━━ RULES.

✧ my rules might sound a bit strict, but it's very important for me to set boundaries between me and potential future writing partners. if you're not vibing with any/all of my points, i understand.

✧ i will almost never follow people first*. if you follow me, i will more than glad to follow back if i can see interactions happening. i just want this blog to focus a bit more on friends and people i've been writing with in the past. *some exceptions might happen if we used to be old mutuals.

✧ i use my block button very deliberately. 99% of the time it's because i either don't enjoy someone's portrayal, they post triggering (for me) content, they are a minor (i interact with +19 people because of our age gap) or to keep my dash/searching page less cluttered.

✧ shipping is nice, but never a priority. i am more likely to ship only with my friends because of past experiences. ( please, don't seek me out only to ship with my canon characters ) even if i am 27, i will not write nsfw on here, though suggestive themes might be present due to the nature of some of my muses. i am also *personally* uncomfortable with large age gaps (nothing wrong when it's two adults, it's just a personal preference), so for characters like my rook (46) or emmrich (52) i'd prefer a potential partner to be at least around their late thirties.

✧ muses with the primary & secondary tag are always open for interactions. i'd prefer to plot things out / talk about a possible dynamic with on request muses instead.

✧ i LOVE ocs. throw your ocs at me. i also will be writing ocs a lot here, so i think they should just get to know each other because oc & oc threads bring me SO much joy.

✧ i don't mind handing over my discord tag to mutuals, but please, don't use our dms exclusively as a venting space. i also DON'T roleplay on discord, so interactions will exclusively happen on tumblr.

✧ ━━━━ MUSES.

✧ 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐠𝐞 :

- elowen surana | primary. - maida hawke | primary. - melava lavellan | primary. - abrielle de riva | primary. - zevran arainai | secondary. - josephine montilyet | secondary. - emmrich volkarin | secondary. - bellara lutare | secondary.

✧ 𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐝𝐮𝐫'𝐬 𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝟑 :

- lorelei balbella (tav) | primary. - astarion ancunin | secondary. - karlach cliffgate | secondary. - korilla hearthsflame | on request.

✧ 𝐝𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐬 :

- moriah (CoS pc) | primary. - gorin (dnd oc) | primary. - prince of frost (dnd archfey) | secondary. - the raven queen (dnd deity) | secondary. - various dnd npcs from CoS or original settings | on request.

[lesbiankoby]

well i guess mahvir's full name could be spoken as mahvir mahariel sabrae but everyone in clan sabrae tended to call him mahariel so he rarely bothered to tack sabrae onto his name to "shems", lol.

revas melava mahariel sabrae lavellan. lol? long and not particularly interseting sounding.... keeper deshanna's names / titles are long as hell too, though. revas melava mahariel lavellan. something like that.

mahvir mahariel, his sister revas [???????] mahariel lavellan (she had another name i haven’t decided on— she started going by revas when she was traded to clan lavellan), and nel (not their real name) mevar (also probably not their real name), otherwise known as rook.

malcom hawke jr not shown but she’s mostly just default marian hawke lol

[space-unicorn-dot]

“ma melava halani” from the WIP ask game 👀 I’ve been on a DA spiral lately sooo I’m curious

I'd say this is one of the ones I totally forgot existed, but it has actually been almost two years since I started this one probably either while I was still playing Inquisition or shortly after. Probably after; Inquisition was my first Dragon Age game and it's still the only one I've finished. I've started Origins like two or three times now, but I haven't stuck it out yet, partially because I had some laptop issues and Steam kinda ate my progress the first two times when that happened, so that's messed with me a bit, lol.

Anyway, I'm not sure exactly when I set this piece except for clearly sometime after the move to Skyhold, but from a gloss over it, it was a piece between my Lavellan mage Inquisitor, Hallaren, and Cassandra, the pair of which I will still die for, they were literally perfect and I am still emotional about sunset balcony cuddles at Skyhold, okay? I'll never NOT be emotional about this.

This was my EVERYTHING, okay. Me totally throwing off the main plot for a solid 3 hours, minimum, just so Hallaren could go find his crush some poetry bc he was so head over heels with a woman that could have snapped him like the toothpick that he is.

What I'm learning from this is that, even 2 years later, I'm still insane for them. You're getting my shitty tv screens whether you want them or not bc boy hOWDY do I LOVE these two.

I want all of the historians for the Inquisition to know that it wasn't the plot that was the biggest thing this boy ever pulled off. THIS. This right here is the SMOOTHEST thing Hallaren has ever pulled off in his entire life full stop. Words do not exist in any language to express his delight that she allowed him that level of trust.

Will I ever actually go back and finish or publish any of this stuff in full? Prooobbabblly not. But I will give you a snippet below the cut (so this doesn't get too long on peoples' dashes) because I still think they're really cute and this isn't a super awkward piece, I don't think, even after not having seen it for almost 2 years.

Anyway, enough of me squealing about Hallaren being utterly smitten and more actual writing about them together below.

And this is from the wip ask meme (le eyes emoji)!

---

He enjoyed this… The comfortable silence, neither of them feeling compelled to fill it. They simply… were. Night danced gently against the colorful glass panes, drawn closed to keep out the night’s cold, and the fire flickered steadily across the room, casting its embrace softly over the room, setting aglow what they had not tucked into the safety of the blankets.

The Inquisitor’s eyes fell closed as Cassandra delicately traced the intricate lines across his face. With the memory of the frigid journey here, lost in endless snows, praying to whatever god may have chosen to listen… the warmth and comfort of having her near was all the more special.

“May I ask you what it means..?” Even gentle and quiet for their proximity, her voice was still strong. Something he admired about her. How she never seemed to flinch from her actions or what she encountered, even when it shook her.

The firelight reflected in her dark eyes enchanted him as much as the delicate pattern framing his features did her. A smile settled across his lips to behold the sight, and her fingers still gently brushing across his cheek offered the subject her words had not. “My people call it vallaslin,” he said. “It is one of our traditions… A sort of… right of passage, I believe you’d call it.”

Cassandra arched a brow, the earnestness of her curiosity burning in her eyes. A more open side to the Seeker he believed few could read, given how rare it was to see in the first place. He would be lying if he were to say he hadn’t sought it out after his first glimpse of it in Haven. His reasoning at the time had simply been trust, wanting to build a friendship with those that he would aid and would aid him in return, but it had rather quickly become one of his favorite things.

One of the most beautiful things.

[fiadhaisteach]

Things I’ve Read This Week* - 2021.05.15

New Stories

alternative R+R ending, 300 years of waiting by shirewalker (@shirewalker) - The Darkling | Aleksander/Alina - 6,210 words, complete

An Altus in Arlathan by coldturkey (@coldturkeyshivers) - Solas/Dorian - 6,697 words, WIP

Colours by hanpersands (@ignitesthestxrs) - The Darkling/Alina - 3,120 words, complete

Particles AU, Particles by DalishWolfy - Solas/OFC|F!Lavellan - 2,876 words, WIP

the blind and bitter fates placed the cup of love's sweet poison to unconsenting lips by missveils (@missveils) - Solas/M!Lavellan - 740 words, complete

Rereads

According to Plan by CommonEvilMastermind (@commonevilmastermind) - Solas/F!Lavellan - 2,632 words, complete

When the World Fell by Psalacanthea - Fen'harel|Solas/F!Lavellan - 138,627 words (downloaded copy of deleted version)

Fade Objects, Fade Objects by KeeperSpock (@outragedvulcan) - Solas/F!Lavellan - (Ch. 109 reposted/reread), complete

Tumblr (re)Reads

Of Strength and Spirit, The Fool that Falls by @where-i-post-my-fanart - Solas/OFC

"Good? Bad? I’m the man with the daggers." prompt by @fairfaxleasee - Zevran/F!Tabris

A Matter of Trust by @tsuraiwrites - Fenris & Merrill & F!Hawke

Leave it to Ellana by @maybe-a-little-wicked - Solas/F!Lavellan

Subscription Updates

What a Wicked Game to Play by Cracking Lamb (@crackinglamb) - Solas/MGiT (Ch. 7-8)

Unwritten by UnrealRomance - Solas/MGiT (Ch. 181-182)

Sugar Honey Iced Tea by AntlersandFangs (@thededfa), Beckily (@beckily), & Celtic_Lass (@thecelticlass) - F!Adaar/MBiT, Varric/MGiT, Krem/MGiT (Ch. 33)

Death at a great distance by elo_elo (@junkbabelna) - Fenris/F!Hawke (Ch. 8)

The Feedback System by beepish (@couriersiccs) - Calpernia/MNBiT (Ch. 13)

In Another World by fenkyuubi (@fenkyuubi) - Solas/F!Lavellan (Ch. 54-57)

No Longer A Game by Here_To_Be (@nolongeragameart) - Solas/MGiT (Ch. 60)

Dovetail by ByJoveWhatASpend - MBiT/everyone (Ch. 8)

lover, your back is bruised from what you carry, In the face of your light by noverture (@noverturemusings) - Solas/M!Lavellan (Ch. 85-86)

Shadowed Moon by Heartfelt_Memories (@evuna) - Fen'Harel|Solas/MGiT (Ch. 27)

Dreams, In Waking Dreams by AParisianShakespearean (@a-shakespearean-in-paris) - Cullen/F!Trevelyan (Ch. 72)

Well, S.H.I.T., there's more..., Well, S.H.I.T. by TitaniaFaerieQueen - TBD/MGiT (Ch. 13)

Til It Squeaks: A Modern Girl’s Take on Thedas, Twist Some More by CrackingLamb (@crackinglamb) - Solas/MGiT (Ch. 11)

A Whole New World by RogueLioness (@roguelioness) - Solas/MGiT (Ch. 138)

Into the Cosmos, Into the Chaos by Pakhet (@shiver-the-tiefling) - Solas/MGiT, MBiT (Ch. 66)

Ariwyn and Solas, The Hunt by bubble_bones (@bubble-bones) - Fen'harel|Solas/F!Lavellan (Ch. 64)

The Guardian by HumblePeasant (@solas-disapproves) - Solas/OFC, Dorian/M!Lavellan (Ch. 141)

Melava Somniar | A Time to Dream by KeeperSpock (@outragedvulcan) - Solas/F!Lavellan (Ch. 27-28)

Bloodied and Broken, Dead Pasts and Dread Futures by youworeblue (@dreadfutures) - Solas/F!Lavellan (Ch. 152)

Beyond the Veil by Pyreite - Solas/F!Lavellan, Fen'Harel/F!Lavellan, Abelas/F!Lavellan (Ch. 11)

When the World Fell by Psalacanthea - Fen'harel|Solas/F!Lavellan (Ch. 15)

The Taming of Fen'Harel by beaubashley (@beaubartley) - Solas/F!Lavellan (Ch. 13)

» side note - multiple chapters may mean multiple updates; or might just be me refreshing my memory, reorienting myself in the story, or rereading some for fun. 😊

*TIRTW & can recommend (previous weeks)

[april-bandu-embata]

Melavari Lavellan fell out of the breach yesterday. She required some tweaking in the Black Emporium, still not sure if I’m happy with her. I often find elves the most difficult to get right, dunno why. Also I am bad at figuring out names for dalish characters. So I’m not completely happy with the name (Melava means time in elven), but I guess it’s ok? 

She is a mage, as you probably can see. I think she will specialize as a necromancer, but not decided yet.

Romance? Also not completely decided... Thought Bull originally, because he’s one of the few I haven’t done yet, but we’ll see. ^-^ I may actually choose not to romance anyone, because that might fit this character and her journey too. 

Other things about her (long ramble incoming, sorry!); 

Melavari is quite tall for a female elf, and slender, 29 years old at the start of the game. Her mother is still alive, but her father disappeared during a hunting trip when the children were still small, never to be seen again. Melavari has an older brother who is a hunter in the clan. His name is Fenasal. She’s not really close with any of her family members, and in general, was a loner in her clan, because they think she’s a bit unstable. She has a tendency to get very emotional and not always think before she acts. Injustice is something she simply cannot tolerate. Her view is that there should always be a peaceful solution where no one gets killed (except the really horrible people, those she would love to execute herself), but she is not always that good at handling situations well, so sometimes bad stuff have happened, and she blames herself for this a lot. Because her clan was a bit antagonistic towards her, she wanted to get away and travel the world. And although she finds it exciting to have had that dream fulfilled in a way, she feels bad about it because people had to die for it to happen. Nightmares have plagued her sleep about this, and again, she blames herself. She also doesn’t handle being called the Herald of Andraste very well, and her reaction (well, in my head at least, the game is a bit limited with reactions sometimes) when this happens ranges from turning silent and just glaring at them to getting enraged and having to walk away to cool off. Andrastianism doesn’t sit well with her, much because of the history it has with the elves. People who complain about monetary issues and other minor things when the world is falling apart might get punched because she gets so mad at their entitlement. She’s bi, but have had few experiences with either gender. She wants someone to be close to, and who wants to f** her brains out, as she’s very passionate, but she’s also afraid of opening her heart to someone because of her past experiences. As a bit of the backstory if I go for the Bull romance; she has always been fascinated with the qunari culture, although she knows little about them. But she’s a curious soul, and wants to learn. I think their relationship may start as just her being really curious, and later, slowly, develop into something more. Among her interests are old mysteries and lore, the macabre, reading books, and picking flowers to make her own perfumes. 

I look forward to see how she will develop. It was hard to figure out a backstory for her, but I think this made somewhat sense? She will materialize more clearly to me once I have gotten further in the game. :)

[a-mongoose]

Elgara Vallas, Melava Somniar

[This initially started out as the “Ambush” OCtober prompt but then it absolutely spiraled out of control. Tumblr really did a number on the formatting and I’m too tired to try and fix it.]

|| Cullen x Lavellan || Mentions of violence.

               Her breathing was quick and shallow as she shot up in bed, cold sweat covering her body. The room was dark, only illuminated by the light of the moon shining high. That was the second nightmare Sid had in the past four days. Cold stone pressed against her feet as she slid out of bed and wrapped herself in a shawl she kept on the nightstand. I probably won’t be able to sleep for a while, she thought as she stepped out onto the balcony, watching the snow sparkle on the mountain-tops. An unusual figure on the battlements caught her attention. The gleam of golden hair in the flicker of a nearby torch was all she needed to know who it was. Sid pulled on a pair of slippers before descending the stairs that lead to the main hall. Skyhold was still. The only sound came from her feet that plodded against the floor of the throne room. 

                The main hall door creaked as she pushed it open slightly. Her eyes drifted back up towards where he had been and she let out a sigh after seeing him still there. Perhaps now was the best time to make amends. As she crossed the courtyard, several night watchmen nodded to her. She waved back before she ascended the steps, careful to watch her footing. The night air made the stones slick with dew. Sid hiked up the hem of her nightgown as she reached the top and stepped carefully onto the wall. He was looking out at the mountain pass they had come to Skyhold by all those months ago, a thousand-yard stare that seemed to transcend space and time.

“I have a feeling I know why you’re awake.” She made sure to stay back while saying this. His eyes widened and he drew in a sharp breath before whipping towards her. Sid held up her hands.

“Inquisitor, what are you-” He cleared his throat, “You should be asleep.”

“So should you.” They stood in silence. Sid made the first move, taking a few steps towards the ledge and looking out, “Sometimes I forget how peaceful it is here. Especially when all of the others are asleep. I suppose that’s the blessing that nightmares give us. We have the chance to experience serenity, if only for a moment.” He stared at her for a moment before letting out a sigh.

“I hope it wasn’t about me.”

“It wasn’t, I promise.” She steeled her nerves before continuing, “Cullen, what did you see when….when you-”

“You don’t have to continue. I- When I first became a templar, I went on a mission with a senior member to track down an escaped member of Kinloch Hold. We were told that she didn’t pose much of a danger and we would be able to incapacitate her without difficulty. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. She caused an explosion quite similar to the one you created that day and I….was brought back to that time. The fear of the unexpected and fighting for my life. I didn’t see you.” His knuckles were bone white as he finished, refusing to meet her eye. She took a step closer, careful to gauge his reaction.

“I’m glad you told me this, Cullen. I think I’m starting to understand you a little better.” Sid let out a soft sigh, “On that day, all I could think about was ‘What just happened? How do I have magic?’” She kept her eyes on the horizon, “And ‘Is Cullen okay?’ I was afraid that I’d somehow hurt or, even worse, killed you. What would the Inquisition think of me then? Their Herald, revealing herself to be a poisonous snake and harming one of her most trusted advisors!” Her hands felt hot and she didn’t realize that she’d started crying until a tear shattered on the ground. 

”I was disgusted with myself for the longest time. How could I do that to someone I care so much about? And then when I overheard you talking with Cassandra, pleading with her to look for a replacement….” She could feel his eyes on her. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to cry. Cassandra’s always telling me I shouldn’t be so openly emotional. ‘It’ll be too easy for your enemies to use your feelings against you!’” Sid let out a quiet laugh, “What I mean to say is….please don’t resign. This Inquisition wouldn’t- I wouldn’t be where I am today without you.” Their eyes met and the softest smile graced his lips. It made him look like a sleepy lion with his messy hair and cloak draped over his shoulders. 

“Thank you, Inquisitor.” The meaning behind those words echoed through Skyhold and imprinted on Sid’s mind. Whatever tension or fear that remained was dissolved in that very moment.

“Cullen, I….”

“Yes, Inquisitor?” His voice floated towards her, a butterfly hovering above a flower. Waiting for a sign to land.

“Would you like me to sing you a lullaby?” Sid was glad for the darkness as her face flushed when those words tumbled out of her mouth like fish from a bucket. Cullen raised an eyebrow in confusion and she quickly continued, “Lysette often got nightmares when she was young and my singing seemed to be the only thing that could calm her. I just thought that since you- nevermind! I, um….”

“I would actually like that very much, if it’s not too much trouble.” He rubbed the back of his neck, the corner of his mouth upturned just like the time Leliana and Josephine teased him for styling his hair. Sid smiled.

“Alright, Commander,” She elbowed him lightly in the ribs, “Back to bed with you. I’ll be up in a moment.” As he turned back towards the door, she saw him mouth something to himself as a grin broke out across his face. Once she heard the distinct creak of him climbing up to his loft, she said a quiet prayer of thanks to whatever creator was listening. 

For giving me the courage to speak to him tonight.

Sid made a mental note to talk to one of the carpenters about getting stairs made for Cullen as she finished climbing the ladder. She made a mental note of the creaky rungs so that she’d be able to leave noiselessly. Cullen had already laid down, a candle rested on the nightstand next to his bed. Sid pulled a chair over and sat down. He was facing away from her. She understood, it was probably a little awkward to have the leader of your organization sing you to sleep. The candle flickered to life as she sent a spark out of her fingertip. Now, what to sing for him? 

Sid knew just the tune.

Lullaby, sing lullaby

The day is far behind you

The moon sits high atop the sky

Now let sweet slumber find you

Away, away

 The day is done and gone the sun

That lit the world so brightly

The earth's a-glow with speckled show

Of twinkling stars so sprightly

Away, away

 Where the sunlight is beaming

Through a deep cloudless blue

And the treetops are gleaming

With a fresh morning dew

Where the mountains are shining

On the meadows below

In a brilliant white lining of a new-fallen snow

 Close your eyes, breathe in the night

A softer bed I'll make you

The trial is done, all danger gone

Now let far dreaming take you

Away, away

 Where the ocean is lapping at a soft, pearly shore

And the swaying palms napping as their swinging fronds soar

Now the dark night approaches, yet so soft and so mild

 Lullaby, sing lullaby

Sleep, my child

Sid looked down at Cullen, her breath hitching in her throat at an unexpected sight. He had turned back towards her, eyes half-lidded as if he was a small child trying to say goodbye to a parent before they went off to work. It was quite endearing. She carefully pulled up the blanket that had slipped from his shoulders, not wanting to draw him out of his half-sleep. The candle’s flame went out with a puff as Sid got to her feet. For a moment, she watched him quietly. Like this, she couldn’t imagine him leading armies. He looked so soft, so peaceful. All she wanted was for him to be safe. To hold him in her arms and wipe away the pain of the world.

Was this what love felt like?

She leaned down and pressed a feather-light kiss against the top of his head. He’s too tired to remember this in the morning, she thought. “Goodnight, Cullen. Melava somniar.” His eyes were fully closed now, a small smile etched onto his face. Sid gently brushed a strand of hair from his forehead before she walked towards the ladder, suddenly feeling drowsy. Perhaps it was time for her to go to bed as well.

[If you’d like to, you can listen to the song here: Lullaby]

[repentnt]

@andrastespromise​​​ wrote :    “ Feel better getting that off your chest? ” from my lavellan 😎 𝐇𝐀𝐖𝐊𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 .    accepting !

        head bowed ,  leena’s ears burn with embarrassment .  ❛  my apologies ,  𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐃 ,  i certainly do not mean to speak out of turn .  ❜  upon hearing that the inquisition would consider a potential alliance with the 𝙍𝙀𝘽𝙀𝙇 mages at redcliffe ,  she immediately sought out melava with the request that the inquisition should form this alliance 𝙄𝙈𝙈𝙀𝘿𝙄𝘼𝙏𝙀𝙇𝙔 .  leena had cornered the elf in haven’s chantry ,  where she then proceeded to prattle on about the hardships the mages at redcliffe had faced .  it was rare for her to be so outspoken .  she silently chastized herself ;  she must not present herself as too passionate .  too zelous .  𝐌��𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 would not approve .

        thin lips 𝙋𝙐𝙍𝙎𝙀 as she takes a moment to compose herself .  ❛  i understand that lady cassandra or commander cullen may advise otherwise ,  but i must 𝙐𝙍𝙂𝙀 you to consider traveling to redcliffe .  the 𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐒  -  they are good people .  if i were not lending my services here ,  i might even be at redcliffe with them .  ❜  leena took a steady breath ,  ❛  THAT is all that i wish to say .  ❜

[malewifezevran]

this drawing goes out to people who kept the inquisition, all 3 of us 💕💕💕

[enasallavellan]

Enasal Lavellan Pt: 16

Hey peeps!

I made a lot of oopses in the last one, didn’t I?  I thank all of you who let me know - and I mean that with all seriousness.

It has also taught me a few things.

1. Don’t force yourself to publish if you’re anxious about something else.

2. If you’re going to smoke: write high, edit sober. (Probably just wait until the next day).

3. Remember that you have just restarted working life after a full-blown mixed episode and that you need to calm down.

4.  It is okay if I miss a day of updating.

And on with Enasal - may she forever have someone to help her if she is in a city, because God knows she’ll get lost or murdered on her own..

-

-

-

-

"Orlais is so big." Enasal said as they walked, craning her neck up to look at the buildings above.

"Keep walking like that, and you're going to fall."  

"You really have no plan?"

"None."

Enasal fidgeted with one of her hairpins. "What should we do?"

"Dinner without an Orlesian. Although that might be impossible in Orlais." He looked around at the crowded, "I'll take dinner without an Orlesian noble."

"Do you know anything about Val Royeaux?"

He shook his head, "I'll try to find somewhere." He looked around before going up to a couple and saying something Enasal couldn't understand. It was clear that he wasn't very good at whatever he was speaking, but the couple said something back - slowly and pointing in directions. Cullen nodded and - Enasal assumed - gave his thanks.

"You speak Orlesian?" Enasal asked.

"Barely. But if you want someone to help you anywhere in Orlais, learning a bit will make them more willing to help." He frowned, "Too many letters that don't make sense."

They had a simple meal in a simple tavern before walking the streets of Orlais, picking roads at random until they made their way up to the upper gardens.

"I need to sit." Enasal said, letting herself fall onto the nearest bench. "Creators, this dress."

Cullen laughed and leaned against a wall. "The Dalish don't have dresses?"

"No."

"Shame." He said with a shrug.  

"Hardly."

It was quiet in the gardens, except for a few people milling around.  

"Enasal?" Cullen asked.

"Yes?"

"At the party - I get where he got the idea that you jump off cliffs and climb things but," He raised an eyebrow, "'Controlling demons with the song'? Where did that come from?"

She laughed, "I don't know. I probably get caught singing a lot - my clan has many songs, and it rubs off. I know I do it when I'm nervous, mostly humming. I'm sure that has something to do with it."

"Well, we're here until we decide to go back to the inn." He lowered himself to sit beside her, "Sing me one."

"Let me explain something about myself." She grinned and turned to him, "I collect songs. I find them, learn them, and sing them. Varric has taught me a lot of songs from the Free Marches, so he's heard some of mine in return." She tilted her head to the side, "I'll need an exchange-"

"I-"

"And no Chantry songs!" She laughed, "I hear those enough at Haven."

"What makes you think I know any songs?"

"Everyone knows songs." She shrugged, "A song for a song, Commander."

Cullen leaned forward. "I'll make you a deal. You sing a song.  If I like it, I might be able to think of a few Ferelden songs."

"That's not fair!" Enasal laughed.

"That's the gamble, isn't it?"

She rolled her eyes, "Fine, have it your way." Enasal looked down at her knees, thinking. "Would you like to hear something my grandmother used to sing?"

"Those are always the best songs, aren't they?"

She fussed with the fabric of her dress, taking a breath and beginning slowly.

"Elgara vallas, da'len, melava seminar," Her voice was high and lilting. Pretty. Nothing that would make her a bard, but pretty enough. She closed her eyes, moving her hands in the conducting motion Cullen had seen her do before - lost in her own world.

"Ara ma'athlan vhenas, Ara ma'athlan vhenas…" 

She was looking at her knees again, "There it is"

"That was nice. What is it?"

"A lullaby." Enasal said, "Before she died, grandmother would come sing it to me - even when I was too old for lullabies."

"Your grandmother sounds like a good one."

Enasal nodded. "There are other songs." She said, "I've learned during Arlath-" She shook her head, "Never mind the Dalish word.  A meeting between the clans."

"I didn't know you met."

She nodded, "To share news and knowledge. Every ten years, we get together." She laughed, "Last time it happened, my grandmother was trying to shoo me around to find a possible husband."

Cullen laughed, "I somehow see you fighting against that."

"Didn't really fight it, just didn't do it." She laughed, "I was fifteen. I doubt you were thinking about a wife when you were fifteen."

He smiled, "I was too busy with templar training."  

Enasal looked up, "My grandmother wanted me to find someone to take me out of the clan. She wanted my sister to do the same. She wanted us both out." She shrugged, "She said that when she died, she wanted to die knowing we were safe elsewhere." 

Cullen leaned forward, elbows on knees, and watched Enasal as she spoke. She seemed somewhere far away.

"Enasal?"

She looked at him.

"Can you tell me what happened with you and your clan?" He shook his head, “You talk about your grandmother and your sister, but you make it obvious that so that you dislike the rest of your clan.  I can't decide how I should feel about them, and my decision has a lot to do with what happened to you."

Enasal looked down at her shoes. Annason had gone on about how bowed slippers were very fashionable. She stared at the little black bows for a few moments before looking back at him, "I don't want you to tell anyone. I haven't even told Varric."

Cullen nodded.

"I…" She was suddenly very interested in her newly-manicured nails, "I was born early.  Something went wrong and my mother died. After that, my father couldn't live without her." She stood and looked at the trees planted nearby. "A lot of bad things happened, one right after another. A fever came through our clan, and a lot of people died. You have to understand, our numbers are dwindling and the loss of one member of a clan is devastating."

She crossed her arms over her chest, "It was decided that I was cursed. I was to walk in the back of the clan, never ahead of anyone else." She looked at him, "I didn't know my name was Enasal until I was seven. When everyone spoke to me, it was Fen'Harel Da - the child of the Dread Wolf."

"The Dread Wolf?"

Enasal had returned to staring at her shoes, "He's a god. Some say he takes you to the afterlife, some say he drags the dead into the fade and eats their corpses. But no matter the specifications - my clan speaks of him as death."

Her eyes were fixed on him, "For years, I thought Fen'Harel Da was my name. The Child of Death."

She fell silent.  

Cullen was unsure what to say.

When he finally did speak up, he had meant to say something powerful, comforting, meaningful.

But instead of any of that, what came out was: "I don't think I like your clan very much."

Enasal nodded, "I don't either."

He looked down at her, "That's why you hate being called The Herald so much, isn't it?"

She nodded, "And Lavellan."  

She switched subjects, trying to pretend everything was fine. "My vallaslin is for Mythal. Mother-god and protector. When I turned eighteen, my grandmother ignored the rest of my clan and gave it to me. My sister held my head and stroked my hair. My grandmother sang as she etched my skin." She touched it, "When I look at it, I don't think of my clan or Fen'Harel, or even Mythal so much." She smiled, "I think of my grandmother and my sister."

"Why didn't you leave?" He asked, "I know you can survive on your own - why did you stay?"

Enasal shrugged, "I was going to, after my grandmother died but… my sister was still there. She offered to run away with me, but…" Her shoulders slumped, "I don't know why I didn't. I think I was scared."

"You never have to go back again."

She nodded.

"Turn around."

She just looked at him.

"Enasal, how am I going to teach you any Fereldin songs if you don't look at me?"

Her smile was one that showed she was ready to cry, but she turned and nodded.

"It's called 'Andraste's Mabari.' Have you ever seen one?"

Enasal perked up, "Those really big ones?  With the cute tails and dopey face?”

"'Cute,' wouldn't really be my word, but if you think they are."

Enasal caught onto the chorus quickly, and by the second time around was singing along with him. By the third time, they were aggressively singing at the other people in the gardens. They probably would have continued if the sun hadn't started to set.

"Do you know where we are?" Enasal asked.

"No idea."  

"Annason is going to be mad."

"Annason?" Cullen laughed, "Annason is nothing. Now when - and I mean when - Leliana finds out about missing our dinner meeting? That's when we'll be in trouble." He grinned, "Don't worry, it's my fault. I'm an enabler to your whims. I'm sure I should have known better."

Enasal laughed.

Cullen got up, "Well, we know where west is. Once the stars are out, I should be able to get us back to the inn. He offered a hand, "Enasal?"

She nodded and stood. "Thank you."

"And I promise." He said, "I will never, ever call you 'Herald' again."

Her face was suddenly serious, "You no idea how much that means to me."

"And it's Cullen now. Not Commander."

"Even in the war room?"

"Even in the war room."

Enasal laughed, performing the dramatic bow she had been forced to learn, "As you wish."  

"That's enough heavy talk, don't you think? Back to the inn, our real clothes, Annason, and your corset."

Enasal couldn't remember ever laughing so hard.

[elfrootaddict]

CLAN LAVELLAN - Chapter 1/4

DESCRIPTION: As Keeper Deshanna’s First, El'lana Aemma Lavellan is sent on her first diplomatic mission, which lies far beyond the familiarity of the Free Marches and her clan. The only home she has ever known.

SERIES: Halla & Wolf

VOLUME: 1

“Ahhh! By the dread wolf!”

Keeper Deshanna quietly observes Lana, her temperamental First, explode into her infamous fit of rage; cursing, face blood-red, arms thrashing about wildly and kicking whatever is closest to her feet. Today’s victim: tree-roots.

Stopping to catch her breath, Lana looks towards the beaten earth before her. She failed. Again.

Keeper Deshanna calls after Lana in a calm, firm voice, “Try it again, da’len.”

Lana growls through her rapid breathing and whips her head towards the Keeper. Her frown scrunched up, and her face flustered and damp. Her silver, shoulder length hair sticking to the side of her face, and wrapping around her neck. 

Unaffected, Keeper Deshanna slowly walks closer, “Always so quick-tempered, mir da’vhenan,” using her staff to support her. “Remember to use your energy towards accessing the Fade, instead of giving it to your emotions. Your emotions only-”

“Draw from you. I know!”

Lana’s outburst doesn’t affect the Keeper in the slightest. The Keeper has been subject to it ever since Lana was five years of age. However, Lana quickly realises the Keeper doesn’t deserve her anger and composes herself. 

Releasing a loud, audible sigh, Lana closes her eyes and tilts her head up,“Ir abelas,” and turns to the Keeper with desperation. “It’s just so frustrating! Why can’t I get this? I’ve been practising for a month now and I can only control a few roots.”

Keeper Deshanna lets out an unexpected chuckle towards her ever-impatient apprentice, “Lana, it took me months before I mastered this spell. It is one of the most powerful spells a Keeper will know. Summoning the roots of the forest to your bend at will is powerful magic. It is not something one rushes or learns hastily. You must be responsible with this kind of magic and show it even greater respect,”

Lana turns to look at the ragged and torn forest floor in front of her and begins feeling calmer after the Keeper’s infallible wisdom.

The Keeper continues, “Take a deep breath, in through the nose and out the mouth, and try it again,” stepping further back. “Remember, do not give in to your emotions, da’len. They only distract you from your ability to draw from the Fade. Find your connection to the forest. Feel its energy flowing all around you and use it to your advantage.”

Taking the Keeper’s words to heart, Lana decides to try again and brings her staff out in front of her, holding it steady with both hands. She closes her eyes and tries her best to control her emotions by taking long, deep breaths. In through the nose and out the mouth.

In………. Out………. In………. Out………. In………. Out……….

With her emotions now significantly more at peace, Lana focuses her mind around her aura as she connects with the Fade. 

As she naturally draws from the Fade, the tip of her staff starts to radiate with a green, earthy-toned energy and Lana transcends that power from her staff to flow throughout her entire body. 

And just as she has practised perfecting over the last month, Lana easily pushes that power to her fingers and stabilises it as it builds up between her hands. 

Lana patiently watches the magic build as it swirls around her, feeling it brush against her arms with its cool touch. But, only for a moment. 

The enchantment begins fighting against Lana’s control as it builds to significant pressure. With her arms trembling, Lana tries to contain the magic by adjusting her stance, twisting her hands around and focusing her mind on the powerful magic within her grasp. 

Until now, Lana has been too afraid for the pressure to build any further. For the fear of losing control. And therefore, Lana would always release the enchantment too soon, resulting in failure. But now, she knows she needs to be more bold. 

“Your emotions only draw from you.”

The spell has reached the point where Lana would normally release, but she decides to hold on for longer. Beads of sweat begin dripping down her face as she forces her stance, her body trembling and shaking as she strains all her muscles to hold her position. Her arms begin to feel as if they are about to give out at any moment. If she lost control now, the magic would most likely explode and fling Lana back several meters. Which would not be ideal.

The enchantment begins vibrating and pulsing violently in Lana’s grasp as it reaches a volatile level of pressure. Simultaneously, Lana begins sensing she is reaching the climax of her control over the spell. Pushing any further than this would be overreaching and dangerous. But, perhaps it would produce a more powerful result?

“You must be responsible with this kind of magic and show it even greater respect.” 

Lana opens her eyes to the disheveled forest floor before her, and with arms expelling out beside her she releases the enchantment, “Alas’nan!” and by digging her heels, and bending her knees more, Lana manages not to fall over upon the explosive release of magical pressure. 

And for what is only a moment, Lana watches her spell ripple through the forest, flailing the loose leaves to dance in the air amongst the magic. With a strong connection and control over the spell, Lana can feel it soak deep into the earth below. 

“Find your connection to the forest. Feel its energy flowing all around you and use it to your advantage.”

Lana slowly raises her arms with her staff in one hand, causing the ground to tremble and shake beneath her feet. By manipulating her connection to the Fade, and using the forest's energy to her advantage, Lana cries out in anguish as she goes from a slow ascension to lunging her hands and staff into the air, causing gigantic tree roots to blast out of the soil. 

Soaring high, the roots almost reach the forest canopy, and Keeper Deshanna gasps in amazement. The resting birds frantically fly away in panic.

For only a fleeting and celebratory moment, Lana’s mana quickly plummets and the roots lose their momentum, causing them to descend rapidly. The forest fills with loud, thunderous bangs and crashes as the lifeless roots slap the ground one by one, landing only a few breaths away from Lana's feet. 

Keeper Deshanna hurries towards Lana and exclaims with motherly pride, “Yes! Mala dirthara, mir da’vhenan!”

Exhausted after the spell, Lana leans onto her staff to prevent herself from falling over and looks at the Keeper with a wide, proud smile, “Ma melava halani, Keeper,” taking in a deep breath. “Ma serannas.”

Suddenly, a wholly unexpected arrow pierces the ground between them. 

Quickly losing their smiles, the two mages whip their heads around to the arrow’s origin point and the Keeper dispels a protective shield over them both as Lana prepares her stance for a battle.

“Reveal yourself! Ar tu na’din!” demands Lana.

The hidden perpetrator swiftly moves from branch to branch, causing the leaves of the trees to rustle and fall down below. Both mages look above to try and spot their attacker.

Then a childish giggle of amusement and mischief echo through the trees. 

Lana sighs, drops her head and relaxes her stance, “It’s alright Keeper, I know who it is.” and brings her staff to her side. 

Naturally, the Keeper looks to Lana and relaxes too, cancelling out the protective spell with a simple gesture.

Lana shouts to the tree above, “I know it’s you. Len’alas lath’din.”

The tall perpetrator jumps out of his hiding spot, falling several meters below to the lowest branch, and naturally lands lightly on his feet. His vallaslin of Andruil stretches from his wide, proud grin as he looks down at the two, highly annoyed mages below.

Smacking his knee, “You should have seen the look on your faces!” and proceeds to mockingly imitate a series of shocked expressions and gasps. 

Back to her usual elegant poise, Keeper Deshanna retorts, “Lhoris my dear, one day I may actually set you on fire, and what will you do then, hmm? Laugh the flames away?”

“Ah Keeper, you’re too cautious,” Lhoris jumps down to the ground in front of them, pulls the arrow out of the ground and puts his bow away in his quiver. “That’s why we love you.”

Without having removed her eyes off Lhoris, Lana ignites a small flame in the palm of her hand, “Well then, I might as well have a go at it.”

“You may certainly try,” Lhoris leaps towards Lana, causing the flame in her hand to extinguish, and with only inches between them he daringly towers over her. “But I know you would never hurt me.” and taps her nose with the head of his arrow with a cheeky, confident grin.

“Oh?”

Lana drops her staff to charge into Lhoris’s stomach, knocking him off his feet and causing him to drop his arrow as both young elves plummet to the ground. 

“Is that all?” baits Lhoris while trying to fight off Lana. “Even the Keeper can tackle harder than you,” trying to make eye contact with the Keeper. “With all due respect, of course.”

The Keeper waves away at Lhoris, knowing his playful nature, and quietly watches her First and most prestigious hunter act like two children fighting in the dirt over mere insults. 

Lana stabs her fingers in between Lhoris’s ribs and he simultaneously squeals and laughs at Lana’s determination to cause him pain. She is so easy to bait into a fight and Lhoris always enjoys tormenting her. 

Easily double in size and strength, Lhoris manages to get the upper hand and pins Lana down to the ground, rubbing her face into the dirt. Lana cries out in annoyance and thrashes about beneath him, trying to get free.

Refusing to be beaten, Lana draws from the Fade and without too much effort, quickly gains control over one of the fallen roots behind Lhoris. Knowing Lhoris wouldn’t be expecting to defend himself against a tree-root, Lana lunges the root forward, hitting Lhoris hard enough from behind for him to fall over to his side. 

“Fenedhis!” curses Lhoris.

“Language.” remarks Keeper Deshanna.

Lhoris regards the Keeper with a sheepish smile, “Ir abelas.” and spins back around to focus on Lana.

Lana turns herself back around and wipes the dirt from her face with her arm while holding a mischievous and devilish smirk. 

Her hands begin glowing with the earthly-toned magic from before as she slowly raises her hands up. So too, do the smaller, thinner roots around her.

With the roots standing to attention, ready attack at her command, Lana quips. “Vir assan, Lhoris…” and lunges the roots towards him. 

Lhoris manages to roll out of the way from the immediate attack but not quick enough to escape them completely. A few of the roots grab hold of his ankle and Lana drags him towards her, appearing quite pleased with her new found ability.

Frantically scraping the ground for something to hold onto, Lhoris cries out in panic, “Fenedhis!”

“Language.” cries the Keeper, still observing the scramble.

With a twist of her wrists, Lana wraps another root around Lhoris’s waist, then around his shoulder, then around his mouth and soon his entire body is completely encased in a root-cocoon. Lana stands proudly as she listens to Lhoris’s muffled protests as he awkwardly squirms around in the dirt.

With a gesture, Lana waves the root away from his mouth and Lhoris spits dirt out of his mouth, “I can easily get out of this you know.”

Lana folds her arms across her chest and laughs confidently, “How? Your knife is in its holster and your hands are tied behind your back.”

Lhoris grins with cheeky smile, “Vir bor’assan, lethallan…” 

Lhoris wiggles his hands and fingers out between the roots, and scrambles a hold of just one of the roots, “Got you.” and with an awkward flick and twist of the wrists, Lhoris snaps it, causing a significant chain reaction in the loss of tension around his upper body. His arms begin to loosen enough for him to grab hold of his knife’s handle. With a bit more wiggling, Lhoris manages to free the knife from its holster.

In two swift motions, Lhoris slices through the roots along his side, releasing his entire upper body, and then without hesitation, swiftly slices between his thighs freeing his legs. Lhoris puts his knife back into its holster, and with the same breath, stands to dust himself off by straightening his armour and combing through his brown shoulder length hair.  

Looking slightly less disheveled, and feeling somewhat more dignified, Lhoris takes a deep breath, looks towards the Keeper and cries out with a childish shrill, “She tried to kill me!”

The Keeper subtly shakes her head and laughs, “You and I both know Lana would never try to kill you.” 

“Then what,” turning towards Lana. “In Creators was that?”

“That,” Lana warns. “Is what will happen to you if you shove my face in dirt, again.”

“You poked my ribs!” pouting his lips dramatically and turning to the Keeper for sympathy. “I’m... sensitive.”

Lana rolls her eyes and grins, for the Keeper is right, she would never truly want to hurt him. 

Lhoris Soros Lavellan, one of the clan’s best hunters, is no more a brother to Lana than she is a sister to him. Only three years her senior, Lhoris and Lana grew up together, and it has only ever been platonic between them - despite several rumours amongst their friends during their younger, adolescent years.

Lhoris has always been more daring, while Lana naturally airs on the side of caution. This combination has created fond memories and experiences for them both over the years. Lhoris brings the adventure and Lana ensures they do not die in the process. 

Keeper Deshanna walks over, sighing with affection, and places one hand on Lhoris’s shoulder, “Alright you two, go wash up. You both appear as if you’ve been dragged through the woods,” looking at Lana. “Literally,” Lana frantically wipes away at her face and tries to comb through her disheveled hair as the Keeper drops her hand and turns around. “I’m heading back to camp. Don’t take too long as it will be dark soon.”

Lana and Lhoris concur simultaneously, “Yes, Keeper.” 

Still dusting herself off, Lhoris grabs Lana’s staff and hands it back to her.

Lana stops grooming and takes her staff, “Ma serannas,” and glides it into its holster across her back. “Let's look for your arrow.” and quickly throws a punch into Lhoris’s shoulder.

After retrieving Lhoris’s arrow, the young elves start heading towards a small stream, which lies in the opposition direction of their camp. 

Walking beside each other, Lhoris looks at Lana quizzically, “So, seriously El, what spell was that? I’ve never seen you do that before.”

Lana smiles proudly, “Alas’nan. It’s one of the hardest spells a Keeper can master,” turning her head up to regard Lhoris. “As you just experienced first hand, I would control the roots of the earth to do my bidding.”

Lhoris nods, “Impressive.”

“Yeah, it is,” looking out towards the forest, “How was hunting these past few days? Catch anything?”

Lhoris gasps at the offensive question, “Did Fen’Harel betray the gods?” spreading his fingers out in front of her face. “Five winters and counting, El. Five!” dropping his hand and pushing out his chest with a confident grin. “I never come back empty handed.”

Lana raises her hand apologetically and smiles, “Alright, sorry for offending you, oh-master-hunter. What did you catch?”

“Rams mostly. However, on the second day we came across a few nugs.”

“Oh no! But they’re so cute!”

Lhoris lifts a finger, “And so delicious.”

They reach the stream, nestled in the quiet ancient forest, and squat down to wash their arms, legs and faces in the cold, fresh water originating from the Free Marcher’s infamous Minater River.

Satisfied with her cleanliness, Lana sits down and watches Lhoris attempt to remove small twigs from his hair and laughs, “Here stupid, let me help.” and swats his hands away to begin pulling out the loose sticks nestled in his hair. 

Lana scrunches her face in disgust, “When was the last time you brushed your hair? It’s like a bird’s nest in here.”

“What?” cries Lhoris in defence. “Tamara usually does it for me.”

Lana rolls her eyes, shaking her head. “Creators, you’re so lazy!”

“She says she likes doing it, okay? Although, she does always sneak in a tiny braid and thinks I don’t notice,” Lhoris looks out towards the forest with a soft smile. “I don’t mind though.”

“Done,” Lana releases a tiny shiver before sitting down to join Lhoris. Both friends decidedly look out towards the forest, listening to the birds sing high above and the trees rustle through the gentle breeze.

Eventually, Lhoris looks down at Lana with a smile. “Ma serannas,” and looking back up at the tree canopy above, he takes a deep breath. “I would want to look my best when I ask Tammy to bond with me after all. Figured that would be important, you know?”

Lana whips her head up towards Lhoris with her wide, lavender eyes shimmering with excitement, “Are you serious?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

Lana slaps both hands to the sides of her face and gasps. Her face stretches open and her eyes open even wider as she can barely contain her happiness, “Oh, Lhoris! That is fantastic news!” flinging her arms around to embrace him. “You two are going to be so happy!”

Lhoris smiles and wraps his arms around her, “I know,” and quickly stops to grab Lana by the shoulders, pulling her back, and wags a finger in her face. “But you can’t say anything.”

Offended, Lana pulls back even more and cries, “Of course not!”

With a more serious tone, Lhoris reiterates, “Promise?”

Lana relaxes and murmurs with a gentle smile, “Ma nuvenin.” 

Lhoris relaxes as well, letting go of Lana’s shoulders and releases a loud sigh, “Ma serannas,” and turns around. “So, shall we head back?”

Elvish to English Translation:

“Mir da’vhenan” = My little-heart

“Ir abelas” = I’m sorry

“Alas’nan!” = Nature’s (earth) Revenge

“Mala dirthara, mir da’vhenan!” = You learn/ understand, my little-heart!

“Ma melava halani, Keeper. Ma serannas.” = You helped me, Keeper. Thank you.

“Ar tu na’din!” = I will kill you

“Len’alas lath’din” = Dirty child no one loves

“Fenedhis” = Shit

“Vir assan” = Way of the Arrow

“Vir Bor’assan” = Way of the Bow

“Ma nuvenin” = As you say (I promise)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

READ ON AO3

Halla & Wolf Series

[theharellan]

I cannot take credit for this tale, it was passed onto me by a passing spirit with endless stories in her heart. She told this tale to me, with the promise that I would share it in turn, and so I will begin as she did, those many years ago:

Ha’era la melava. Once there was a village, which for years had prayed to the gods to slay the beast which dwelt in the wilds beyond their home. Decades passed, their main street, once bustling with trade and travellers, lay deserted, and still the gods would hear no plea. When they at last gave up hope of an answer, they arranged for one of their own to slay it in their stead.

The first to answer their call was Enansalin, who had not the heart for killing, but loved their People so that they were willing to bloody their hands. They left their home with naught but a bow and a quiver of arrow, without a crumb of food to spare, well-aware that  the likelihood of a return journey was slim. Through forest and field they journeyed, until the trees grew black and twister, and ever closer together. It was in that labyrinth they saw it.

The sight of the beast alone chipped away at hardened resolve. A crooked creature, its back twisted like a hillside, its very breath wilted flowers upon their stems. Scattered around the clearing were a thousand arrows, each shining with the memories hunters with keener eyes and sharper aim than they. Undeterred, Enansalin nocked an arrow, and named for one of its many eyes.

Yet when the time came to loose it, they found they could not. Their fingers pulled the string taut, until the tension went slack, and the arrow fell harmlessly to the forest floor.

For they saw no evil in the beast’s eyes. It was not kindness they saw, nor charity, nor any other gentle words we may know in a stranger’s gaze, but it was personhood. That was enough.

It was a cursed creature, a runaway, who fled to the woods to escape its tormentors, but it remembered their words, lies told to keep it captive. Without them, it feared itself, what it could become without their guidance, toxic though it was, and so it became those lies. Or, at least so far as it and the world was concerned, it had. This was no curse that could be undone with a love confession, or indeed any single gesture, but a belief that had to be disentangled from its soul.

Enansalin saw they had not the heart to slay the beast, but neither could they save it. They dropped their weapons, bow and arrow left in a pile at their feet. They spoke to the beast, apologised for their intrusion, and gave their name. It did not cure it, but it ever so slightly began to unravel the lies the beast had mistaken for truth.

They remained at its side, or as near to it as they dared, growing flowers from a shadow of a forest, clearing sunlight through the trees, living off the dreams of a new forest. Each day, they spoke to it, as one might speak to a neighbour, and each day, they asked it its name. With every new morn, the beast grew smaller, the tangles in its fur smoothed, teeth stained with blood gleamed white. It never answered when asked its name, but stared with a thousand blinking eyes, which could not seem to take its eyes off them. This continued for months, some say more, for time slipped from the People then as water through cupped fingers, until one day Enansalin awoke to realise the beast was nowhere to be found.

They looked for it, called for it, but only the wind in the trees answered, and they saw they were alone.

And so they returned to their village, and told them the beast was slain. Their claim was regarded with skepticism, for their hands were as clean as the day they left, but in time the roads opened and trade flowed again, and the beast became a distant memory in the minds of them all-- save Enansalin.

It is said one morning, years later, when the last black leaf had fallen from the old forest, a stranger came to the village, a woman with no alms to spend nor trades to ply. Whosoever greeted them was answered with a vacant expression, from which no meaning could be gleaned. Only when she saw Enansalin did she move from where she had rooted herself in the square, their approach hesitant, but their intent palpable.

“Ladhalen,” she said. It was an answer to a question asked and asked again, it echoed with the memory of a flower pushing through dead soil to press against the palm of Enansalin’s hand.

What came next for the two, it is uncertain. Few tales truly ended among the People, for in their telling, they continued on. Wherever their lives took them, the spirit seemed certain they were together.

- A telling of Beauty & the Beast, supposedly Elvhen in origin. Dictated by Solas of the Inquisition, written by Iander Lavellan.

[reveriesramblings-blog]

Path Of The Arrow

                               A Lavellan And Harding Love Story

    A fanfiction depicting a personal headcanon of my Lavellan playthrough in the Dragon Age:Inqusition franchise. The Inquisitor struggles to integrate into a new life, but finds a familiar comfort in new friends and a possible new love. As he becomes the new shining face of Thedas, he learns that there is more to life than running away...

  This will be a series I’ll be updating every Saturday or so. Of course, I do not own the rights to the Dragon Age or the characters! This is purely for entertainment purposes. Some quotes/ dialogue were taken from the game.

                                                  Credits

A quick thanks to Dragon Age Wiki for a guide on elven cipher! FenxShiral for  reference.                                                WARNINGS    Please note that this series is 18+ for adult language and themes! Further warnings include PTSD, depression, violence, blood, possible gore, some sexual content, death, etc. Please message me privately if you have any other concerns.

Just a final note: I’m new to tumblr, so please have mercy while I learn the proper tag/edit system! I edit to the best of my ability and I’m here to share my imagination as well as improve my creative writing abilities.

                                                   Enjoy!

Elven translations: 

Lethallen (pl) - one who is familiar; usually a friendly title given from one elf to another. Similar to kin.

Shemlen/shems - quicklings; unfavorable name for humans

Mala suledin nadas - You shall endure

Falon'Din enasal enaste - An elven prayer for the dead

Vhenan -Heart; term of endearment

Ma vhenan - my heart; my love

Ir abelas - I'm sorry

Ma melava halani - you helped me

Ir tel'him - I'm me again

Ma serannas - thank you

                                                                                Chapter 1: Severed Roots

    A herd of Halla; pounding hooves against the lush earth of the Planasene Forest floor, in which he was never allowed to be in. The echo of these sacred beasts swirled around Larkin’s head as a memory, tucking the past back into a far corner in his mind. Once he was a respected hunter among his clan, providing food to ensure the survival of his Lethallen; his kin. Now, he was about to embark on a new path with a new name: The Herald of Andraste, they called him. The one who fell out of The Fade and was sent by Andraste herself to close The Breach that wounded the sky. 

“What a large burden to carry, and it’s only gonna get heavier.” Varric pitied him in private when they had a moment to breathe. Privacy was a luxury now that everyone and everything demanded his attention: “Your Worship, please look over these marching orders?” this, “Herald, I need your response to the Chantry by the end of the daylight,” that. He knew nothing of politics and pleasantries and suddenly he was the face of a controversial organization as well as an entire religion that he did not want. Few perks there were so far, but one of them included the few moments he could spend in playful banter with the Dwarf  gave him some sense of relief. A new world and a new life among the shemlens -- not one he would have chosen for himself. The elf was perfectly content running from them in The Free Marches as it were; nothing could have prepared him for so many concentrated in one area. They smelled weird, the food was strange, but there was no denying the honest hospitality. Larkin couldn’t help but wonder though: would it be different if he weren’t their so - called martyr? Would he be exploited and shunned as all other Dalish were in human company?

“Mala suledin nadas…” he uttered under his breath as his eyes searched the aching mark on his hand, possibly for more answers. He lifted the glowing scar to the sky, replicating the moment he first closed a rift as if it would give him some profound knowledge on how to close The Breach; but alas, there were no voices in his mind. 

Another chimed into his ears instead, “Master Lavellan” a familiar voice requested his attention. What else was new? The Herald had half a mind to turn toward the speaker in annoyance, but took a moment to collect himself. Of course it was Cassandra who came and interrupted his much needed quiet time. “Ahem,” she cleared her throat but made no hesitation in addressing the task at hand; he hadn’t known her for long but he could tell that this was going to become a regular occurrence -- he should’ve just accepted it then and there. “My apologies on the sudden...intrusion…” She wasn’t really sorry, “Your presence is needed in the council, my Lord. Leliana and Cullen have a few suggestions on how to get things moving. We need to head into the Hinterlands as soon as possible to seek out Mother Giselle and ask for her aid. I have come to escort you.” 

With a deep sigh, the Herald stood up from the stone fencing and turned to her with a reluctant nod “I suppose I can’t just sit this one out?” 

Cassandra gave him a judgmental squint but held her tongue from expressing her true thoughts on his sarcasm. “Need I remind you of what’s at stake here?” She paused and her mood seemed to shift, "I understand that you didn’t ask for any of this, but now that you’re here...you’re our only option for the time being. I can’t promise that it will be easy, but I can promise that you won’t be alone in this…” her voice trailed at the end into a softer note as if she was trying her best to express compassion or something of the sort. “I understand, Cassandra, and I appreciate your willingness to uphold your duty.” Silence fell between them. It wasn’t meant to sound curt, nevertheless, the words cut and he could see that it slightly bothered her. He pursed his lips together in regret “I didn’t mean for that to--” “Let’s just...get this over with.” The Seeker turned to leave and head toward the Chantry but stopped for a moment to turn and look at him with a small smirk, waiting for him to follow.  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The briefing appeared to be simple enough: ask for The Revered Mother’s assistance and look for opportunities to establish the Inquisition’s presence. Unbeknownst to any of them, the Hinterlands was ass-deep in chaos and it would be far from easy. The mages and templars were practically at war, putting all the refugees nearby in danger. People were starving, cold, dying and nature was being destroyed by seemingly random fires. Lowly bandits took advantage of the conditions and began to claim passages, making it harder for Inquisition soldiers to do their job. To top it all off, demons were crawling about from opened rifts; just more reasons to need a savior. Larkin surveyed the crossroads from the hilltop with dread in the pit of his stomach. The air carried a slight chill through his chestnut hair and smelled of pine, which reminded him of home. Bittersweet memories cut short by the sight of humans cutting each other down...like always. How the fuck was all of this happening so fast? He gripped his stomach and swallowed hard, stepping down from a tall rock that overlooked the plains. Varric caught a glimpse of the elf’s anxiety, offering an awkward grimace; he knew he and the Inquisitor were feeling the same sense of fuck this. If it were that easy to walk away, Varric wouldn’t be far behind him. The Herald stepped into camp among all the hustle and bustle of recruits trying to multitask between gathering supplies and an array of other important things. All he could hear was the babbling of side conversations and metal clanking from swords and arms being forged and repaired. Larkin’s attention was pulled left and right again the minute he arrived, until Cassandra rescued him by taking his arm and pulling him aside. Varric and Solas accompanied them as well to take a breather. “There’s something that needs your attention --” she began and was readily cut off by Varric. 

“Give him a minute, Seeker...He just got here.” He threw his hands up in frustration with her too urgent attitude. “Wouldn’t it be wise to let the one person that can actually fix all this shit take a small break? You know -- Just so we don’t break him before it starts getting tough?” Solas butted in with his two cents. “Ideal, not wise, Varric.” 

“Thanks, Chuckles.” The dwarf shook his head “The Herald of Andraste succumbing to a nap every once in a while? Perish the thought…” Larkin attempted to joke. At least Varric was amused. "What? Just trying to ease the tension a little. I’ll be fine…we’ll be fine.”

“Your Worship?” a soft feminine voice called to the group, singling them out from the rest of the camp. A Dwarven female approached them with a friendly and professional air about her. Her soft-looking red hair was tied up and out of her face; pale skin, but her cheeks were no stranger to the sun. Freckles decorated her face, giving her a rather youthful appearance despite the scar running down the left side of her cheek. 

“Scout Harding, at your service.” She paused for a moment to give Larkin a good look-over. He was tall, but that was mostly because she was a dwarf of course. Here he was: Andraste’s chosen in the flesh; he looked even more noble than the stories portrayed him to be. The view wasn’t so bad either. If her eyes could’ve opened any wider they would. 

“Pleased to meet you” he simply said, unsure of how he should address her just yet.

“Wow” she awed, he breath taken from her, “I can’t believe it’s really you. I’ve heard the stories; you should know how grateful everyone is for what you’re doing.” A small, toothy smirk appeared on Larkin’s face “I’m starting to worry about all these stories everyone’s been hearing.” This comment brought a chime of laughter from the scout, causing her to clear her throat once she realized that it might come across as inappropriate. “ Well, they only say you’re the last great hope of Thedas.” She grimaced. Maybe she shouldn’t have said that… “Oh, great.” he pursed his lips.

“Aaaanyway, you already have your briefing, I should let you get to work.” She handed Larkin a scroll tied with twine “A map.” she smiled softly but with an awkward note. “Maker guide you.” 

Harding wandered off to attend to other matters; a recruit already scrambling after her with questions. She left a small smile on Larkin’s face, his eyes refused to separate from her as he held the map limply in his hand. It wasn't until he felt eyes on him that he looked to his companions and then turned to make his way out of the camp. "Right," he cleared his throat "to work then." All four of them marched away from the camp, following the sounds of distant fighting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Falon’Din enasal enaste…” Larkin whispered slightly out of breath over the corpse of an elven mage. He was careful to keep his first language out of earshot as a subconscious reflex. However it didn’t escape Solas’s impeccable hearing; the elven prayer for the dead caused him to eye the Herald curiously and smirk snarkily. Larkin tried to ignore the eyes on him and examined the blood on his gloves and felt slightly dizzy. He must’ve lost his footing at some point because the next thing he knew, he was on the ground, facing the sky above him. He felt hands gripping him tightly; everything was spinning and then what was a clear day turned into inky darkness.  A gentle hand pressed against Larkin’s cheek and his eyes slowly opened to see a blurry but familiar figure above him. The sound of trees swaying in the breeze; birds chirping in the early morning sun. “Vhenan...” the words were clear, but the voice was obscured and almost unrecognizable, but he didn’t need to know. He could feel who the voice belonged to by the nature of his touch. Larkin’s eyes squinted as the sun’s light bore into the spectre and he placed his own hand on top of the one cupping his cheek. “Ma Vhenan” Larkin repeated, his voice barely audible. “Ir abelas..” “Ma melava halani...Ir tel’him...ma serannas…” The voice began to fade. 

Larkin began to squirm in his fur lined bedroll, feverishly chanting elven over and over until his eyes shot open and he woke in a cold sweat. The hand he gripped in his dream was not a past lover, but belonged to a healer instead. She stared down at him, frozen in place as she did not dare to try and pry her hand free, afraid he might lose it even more. Within just a moment more she caught a grip and placed her free hand on his other cheek, smiling gently. “Your Worship, please, rest easy. Everything’s going to be alright. You’re safe in your tent.” her Orlesian accent was thick. The Chantry sister placed a cold rag on the elf’s forehead, hushing him gently. “Sleep. I will inform your companions that you have the day off.” He didn’t pay much attention to when the sister left his tent, he was more focused in undressing as soon as possible --his clothes were drenched in sweat. As promised, no one entered his tent for the remainder of the day, but rest would not come easily to him. He gently rolled over to his side and out of bed, standing on his bare feet in one motion. Larkin opened the flap of the tent door, letting the cool air of the night hit his face as he paused to take a deep breath. Nice and cool. He kept his pants on and wore a loose tunic to spare the camp of an accidental nude elf sighting; they weren’t that friendly yet. The corner of his eye caught the toe of one of his boots, choosing to leave those behind. His feet deserved to be free again, and it was so worth it. The moment the pads of his toes felt the grass, he let out a relieved groan, closing his eyes as he flexed his feet to caress the ground. Before anyone could see him, he took off into the nearby trees, running as fast as he could to pick up the wind and feel it against his lithe frame, only stopping when he was finally out of breath. His short frolicking led him back to the overlook where he first stopped when they arrived in the Hinterlands. Just slightly tired, he sat down and let his feet dangle over the edge of the cliff and looked up at the face of the full moon that lit up the night. 

“Lovely, isn’t it?” Larkin practically whipped his head around feeling slightly defensive, his shoulders tensed, but dropped again when she stepped more into the light. 

“Scout Harding?” Larkin confirmed softly and released a small amount of breath.

“You sound surprised.” She smirked but then looked a little concerned as her voice wavered slightly. “What are you doing out here anyway, aren’t you supposed to be resting? Healer’s orders you know…” Harding took a seat beside him with respectable space in between them. Her concern brought a soft grin to his face “Aren’t you supposed to be resting yourself? Thanks for the concern but I feel fine.” He noticed she was dressed casually, too. “You got me.” she giggled awkwardly and shifted slightly in her seat. “I was hoping you’d be out here, actually. Oh Maker, that came out strange...I mean, I wasn’t stalking you or anything like that. I just...wanted to apologize for earlier.” She brought a finger up to scratch the side of her cheek.

“Oh?” The Herald’s interest was piqued. She held his attention now. “Apologize, Whatever for?” “Oh you know,” she began “You’re only the last great hope of Thedas…” she bit her lip in regret “The last thing I wanted to do was cause you more anxiety about the situation. I know you have a lot on your plate.” “Hm…” he hummed, looking up at the moon and stayed silent on purpose, just to tease her.

"Oh, pants!" She exclaimed in frustration "Please just accept the apology!"

"Pants?" He cocked a brow and couldn't help but laugh. "I've never heard that one before!" When calm, which wasn't for a good long moment, he sighed and ended the exhale with a small chuckle. "I accept. Though, I was never offended either. Just for the record." He smiled softly at her.

Perhaps Harding focused on his lips a little too hard. The dimples that pressed into his cheeks revealed an endearing innocence in him that was rarely found in a leader. Without a moment longer she stood up on her feet.

"I should head back. Wouldn't want to miss my beauty sleep and all."

"You don't need it." Larkin turned to look at her, the corner of his mouth curling softly.

They exchanged tender looks under the stars for what seemed like an eternity.

"Good night, your Worship." Harding left him with a smile and vanished into the trees.

"I'll see you in my dreams." he said to himself now that she was gone. His eyes looked back at the moon, wondering if it felt as lonely as he did at night. 

[magiikwoven]

5, 11, 13

CODEX ENTRIES │ accepting

5. a note/letter found in Revas’ pocket

   ( a series of letters, unaddressed and old. They discuss various meeting locations, to simply venting frustrations to an unknown party. The more recent ones seem to all be addressed to a ‘babae.’ ) 

                                9:41 Dragon     Babae,              It’s been so long. I wonder if you’ve succeeded in your plans. I wonder if you remember me still. Or yet live. I often try to reach for you in the fade, memories near and dear to my heart. I try to find the threads to you, and yet there are so many miles between us that I cannot.             So i linger in our memories. The world is a ruin, is it not? Stained so deeply and now the sky screams. Creators, it is so loud, babae. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. But I cannot linger in that pain. I cannot listen to the scream.            I work with the Inquisition now. Too many shems, I think. The Commander is a man from Kirkwall, and the dwarf, Varric Tethras? You would like his romance novels I think. Oh, and Leliana. She’s here too. I told her I know you. She laughed, but in a kind way. Said it’d be useful.           I miss you dearly. I hope we meet again soon. 

11. slander written about Revas Arainai 

( found amongst a pile of discarded papers in her office, a copy of pinned to a bookshelf )

The Abomination! I implore the Inquisition to consider the monster under your roof. The Being known as ‘Revas Arainai’ is no mortal being. They are a murderer and a creature of nightmares! They act as a mortal being but are not! They are possessed by a demon! You must not work with such a creature!!!            ( the rest of the note seems to ramble on about various events unrelated to her and explaining how abominations work. there is at least two paragraphs detailing how the inquistion shouldn’t deal with demons if they are truly working for the chantry. ) 

13. something written about your OC in the two years between defeating Corypheus and the beginning of Trespasser

Revas and the last two years;

[ Clan Lavellan Survived ]Da’len,          I thank you for sending us Revas over the last few years. Her efforts in helping us rebuild have been most appreciated. It’s good to see what became of our little da’fen. I am glad to have her back amongst our clan, even if it is only for a short time. I only wish you could be here to celebrate with us, da’len. Her stories about you hold us over till we meet again. Yet, I only imagine you would laugh at some of these tales. I do hope one day we will have you both back in our clan. 'Ma Serannas, Da’len                                        May the dread wolf never hear your footsteps,                                                               Keeper Deshanna 

[ Clan Destroyed / Non-Dalish Inquisitors  ]Inquisitor,       Revas told me to write to you, promised we could reach you. Told me that you helped her find us, or that one of your friends did, I don’t know. I don’t know how she found us, but I’m so grateful. We’re still looking for others, but she’s leading those that have been found. Says she’ll take over as Keeper when we find everyone. I think Deshanna would approve. I never thought I’d see my daughter again, Inquisitor, and you sent her to us. Forgive an old man for crying on a letter.                           Nuvas ema ir’enastela, Inquisitor.                                                      --- Borean Lavellan-Arainai. ( an attached note from Revas; )                Inquisitor,        I will be keeping in contact with you. Thank Sera for me, her “Friends” have been helpful in recovery efforts. I will also be bringing them back to Skyhold when we find everyone. I do hope we can talk about this in person soon. I owe you many drinks, do i not?                                                       Ma melava halani,                                                                             --- Keeper Revas Lavellan-Arainai.