#my two lavellans are mother and daughter

[damallarky]

Boyfriend

@buttsonthebeach, @beardedladyqueen and everyone else who have been waiting for Truce.... this is not it. BUT it is another Solavellan Kid Fic.

This takes place about three years after the events of Veilguard, when Solas and Lavellan finally have their happy ending because that's what's going to happen. Right BioWare? Right?????

Nan is Aisling's first child from a different relationship. He's 17.

Neria is Solavellan child #1. She's 15. If you have read Truce, you will be happy to notice that by the time this fic happens, Solas has earned the coveted title of "Papae".

Enasali is 3.

-

Aisling sat and embroidered underneath the shade of the massive oak tree in their garden, listening as her youngest child shrieked and ran away from the large monstrous wolf chasing her. It was the size of a small dragon, with six glowing eyes and razor-sharp teeth as tall as the toddler it was after.  

Yet Aisling knew her daughter was in no danger, for she knew the man beneath the beast and that he loved Enasali as much as she did. She also knew, as she felt the child growing within her kick, that their lives would be changing yet again (this time for the better) and that soon Solas would have much less time to play their daughter's favorite game of “Chase (and Be Chased By) the Giant Puppy.” 

She and Solas had both agreed to spend as much time as possible with their children, particularly Enasali, before the baby came, and most of their time and energy was taken up by the baby.

Aisling’s thoughts were interrupted by peels of laughter, and she looked up from her embroidery to see Solas belly crawl through the flowers, his tail wagging rapidly as he inched closer and closer to Enasali. 

“Not through my bellflowers, please!” she called out. 

Solas stopped in his tracks and glanced back at her with two of his six eyes. He had the decency to flatten his ears to his skull in a sheepish expression before rolling over slightly to the left to get out of the way of Aisling’s precious bulbs. The fact that he smashed more of them in the process was not lost on her. Or him, for that matter, given the fact that he was now, very pointedly, not looking at her. 

Aisling stifled her laughter and decided to let it slide for now. 

She was just about to return to her embroidery when she heard a scream, followed by a large crash. Solas, too, heard the crash, and he immediately froze, jumping to his feet with his ears perked up and all six of his eyes focused in the direction of the noise. They both settled, however, when they realized it was their two oldest children screeching down the steps of their Fade home and not an intruder. 

“GIVE IT BACK, RENAN!” Neria yelled, trying to grab at her brother. Nan leaped over the banister and made a beeline straight to his mother, a leatherbound journal in his hands and what Aisling could only describe as a shit-eating grin on his face. He ran behind his mother and opened the journal to read it out loud.

“’I saw him again today,’” he read gleefully. “’How have I never noticed how blue his eyes were before now?’”

“I swear, Nan,” Neria seethed, “if you do not give me back my journal right now…”

They chased each other in circles around their mother, who was trying in vain to make them stop.

“That’s enough, you two,” she said warningly, but her children seemed too busy antagonizing each other to hear her. Nan continued to read from Neria’s journal, ignoring her threats and holding her journal up high so his sister couldn’t reach it. 

“’I hope I can see him again soon!’” he crowed. “’If only so I can see those pretty blue eyes again!’”

Neria’s face turned as bright red as her hair, and she, in a fit of rage, punched her brother in the gut. Hard. 

“STOP IT, THE BOTH OF YOU!” Aisling shouted. Both children looked down in contrition as she stood up, abandoning her embroidery. With her real hand resting on her swollen stomach, she held out her artificial one to Nan expectantly. 

“Renan, give me her journal. Now,” she commanded. 

Head still bowed, he handed his mother the journal. Aisling then gave it to Neria, who practically yanked it out of her mother’s hand and held it close to her chest.

“Neria,” Aisling said in a severe voice to let her daughter know she meant business, “how many times have your father and I told you that not every problem can be solved with your fists?”

She glanced over at said father, who was conveniently pretending he could not hear the argument as he entertained Enasali. Aisling supposed it was for the best. Their youngest hero worshiped her older siblings and was distraught whenever they argued, and Aisling was unsure if she could deal with a sobbing toddler on top of two misbehaving teenagers. 

“Now,” she said, giving both of her children very pointed looks, “I want the two of you to apologize to each other immediately.”

“Ir abelas, Neria,” Nan said. “I shouldn’t have taken your journal or told everyone about your secret boyfriend…”

Aisling glared at her son while Neria looked ready to punch him again. 

“Renan Lavellan!” 

“He’s not my boyfriend!”

“What is this about a boyfriend?”

They all turned to see a massive lupine head looming down at them, six eyes darting between the three of them in concern.

“Neria, is someone courting you?” he asked, his voice taking on a slightly panicked quality to it. “Who is this boy? How old is he? How did you meet him?” 

Neria’s face got redder and redder with each question, while Nan’s grin broadened. 

“She met him at one of Uncle Varric’s parties!” he said gleefully. Neria gave him a withering look, and Aisling was suddenly very concerned that Neria would skip the fists and start setting her brother on fire. Then she looked over at Solas, and judging by the look in his six eyes, Aisling knew that he was mentally going over every known associate of Varric Tethras, trying to determine who this mysterious suitor was and how to adequately dispose of them. Probably also with fire.

It took her breath away at times how alike father and daughter were. It was also just as likely to give her a headache.

Aisling pinched the bridge of her nose. 

“Solas…” she said warningly.

“What?” Solas replied innocently. “I merely wish to know more about Neria’s boyfriend…” Then, he narrowed his eyes and added, “…whom I would also very much like to meet. Privately.” 

Neria threw her arms up in the air in exasperation. 

“PAPAE!” she screeched. “THERE IS NO BOYFRIEND!”

Neria clutched her journal to her chest and glared at her family.

"You are all the worst!" she cried before stomping off towards the house.

Aisling heaved a heavy sigh. She had a feeling this wouldn't be the last time she'd hear of this.

[phannamime]

WARNING MAD LONG POST In which I ramble about my inquisitor- Mava Lavellan's backstory

Just so I can get it out of my head. TW (Emotional Abuse- Severe Burns)

TL;DR How does one person deal with shouldering the responsibility of a world saving semi-cult? Parentification

Dragon: Mava was first born to Hanina Lavallen and Ethlam Lavallen, in the year 9:09 dragon. Hanina was sister to Keeper Deshanna Istimaethoriel Lavellan and as such when Mava first showed signs of magic at 5 she was favored and chosen to be Deshanna’s First. Hanina was incredibly proud of that fact and made sure that her daughter knew her responsibility at a young age.

Cylus, her brother was born 9:11 Dragon. The two were inseparable and she adored him. In 9:14 Clan Lavellan was attacked by a group of humans, this almost resulted in the death of Cylus, and Hanina who was pregnant at the time, went into labor prematurely. Vela was born small and weak, and the event scarred Hanina. She grew protective of her children and kept a strong presence in their raising, atypical of the more communal raising of the Dalish.

Mava spent most of this time with Deshanna learning magic, or with her mother. She had little time with others her age besides her siblings. Her mage training and her mother’s expectations took all of her time. Mava didn’t mind, she loved learning about her clan and the gods. Still she wasn’t the quickest to pick up magic, and often struggled to do more than just the most basic of actions.

Hanina’s protectiveness developed into paranoia, worsened by Ethlam often being gone hunting. She placed her fears onto Mava, and told her that she was responsible for her siblings safety. If anything ever happened to Cylus or Vela it was Mava’s fault for failing to look after them.

The lectures didn’t happen often at first, Cylus was a chatty, and sweet child. He learned to placate his mother and soothe her worries. No the lectures grew much more frequent as Vela grew older. She was always a bit of a spit fire but she was her mother’s favorite. She was allowed much more freedoms then the older two. Her mother was even more proud of her when she showed magic at the age of 3. She was made second under her sister and quickly excelled in her studies. Magic came easily to her and as she was allowed to interact with others more, she also was much more comfortable with those her age.

Mava was happy her sister was doing well at first. When Vela did well her mother was happier, so it was a win-win. But as Vela hit her preteen years she began to pass her sister in magical abilities and chafe against her mother’s grasp. Hanina began to pit her daughter against each other. Often telling Mava that she should be more like her younger sister. Mava internalized this, but still saw her primary job to be protecting her siblings. It was only to make her better for her clan and family that yelled at her, Mava often said to herself. Hanna started fighting with Deshanna at this time, who could see how her sister was spiraling. This only made Hanina worse and harder to speak with rationally.

The two sisters got into a lot of fights usually over Vela’s tendency to wander from the clan, and not pay attention in studies. Even so Mava would never tell her mother about it, a part of her fearing the response. Cylus often got stuck in the middle of these fights, eternally the mediator. He studied under the Head Storyteller and thrived, weaving tales with songs. He was mostly forgot by his mother as he had no magic. The only time the three siblings got along and had fun were during clan dances. Mava and Vela were stand outs and in sync when dancing and Cylus loved singing and playing music.

In 9:30 during the blight, clan Lavellan was traveling past the border of Ferelden and was recruited into helping the Warden fight Darkspawn. Mava’s father Ethlam was killed helping in the battle. This was the breaking point for Hanina and her health deteriorated for the next several years. Mava stayed by her mother’s side the whole time and tried her best to keep the family together as her mother became more erratic.

In 9:35 she died. It was a mix of emotions for the siblings, but mostly guilt. She was supposed to protect her family, and why did it feel easier to breathe? She didn’t want to be keeper and now that her mother was dead she could almost admit that to herself. Vela and her stopped fighting for a few months, trying to process her passing. Mava came to one conclusion Vela another.

The eldest talked to her Keeper about making her sister the First over her. Vela was great at magic, charismatic, and comfortable taking charge. Her mother knew she was a better fit, she said so all the time, she was just too traditional to actually propose it! Deshanna tried to dissuade her student from the idea but Mava was determined. So she said if Vela agreed to it, she would allow it. So the two sisters met up outside camp to talk. It went about as well as the Keeper expected.

Horribly. Vela revealed that she was thinking of going to another clan, to get a fresh start. She had already talked to Cylus and Deshanna about it. That was fine, Mava argued, she could just become a First here if she wanted to be First. Vela refused, she didn’t want to stay. Mava argued that she should just stay and train to be First for a few more months to see it she liked it.

Vela shut it down, and blurted out that she wanted to leave the Dalish all together. This freaked Mava out completely, she became desperate, this was her mother’s worst fears come true. The escalated a conversation into a full blown fight, Mava terrified to go back into the role she was forced to be in all her life, and Vela wanting to have freedom in her life and choices. It got heated, literally. When Mava grabbed her sister’s arm, Vela let a burst of fire burning her.

Her left side was burnt badly, and Vela rushed her back to the clan. When asked about it Vela said human mages attacked them. This caused the clan to immediately start packing up to move while the Keeper stabilized Mava. When they started to move, Vela was gone.

Mava woke a month later, her burns still bad but better. She was nonverbal for the first week, her mind still in shock. Cylus was by her side as soon as she woke up. It. Was like when they were little, but reversed. Cylus would tell her everything happening in the clan. Stories, gossip, and all the interesting things in his life.

The clan settled for a while, Mava’s recovery meant that she couldn’t be far from the healers. And with them settled they welcomed more and more city elves into the clan. Mava refused to leave her tent for long, grappling with what she saw as her failure marked on her. She told no one the truth about how it happened, though she was sure her aunt suspected something.

One city elf that later joined the clan was Diya. She became a talented crafter and friends with Cylus. After much convincing he introduced the two, hoping that meeting others outside of the family would help her. He was right Diya was direct, honest, but still kind to Mava and the two got along super well. Mava got to passionately explain and educate the lore of the clan to Diya and Diya would bring gifts in return. She was a scholar of her craft in her own right, and the two enjoyed the other’s passion.

A year after the incident Mava began to return to some of her regular duties. Most of them were unrelated to magic. She was relieved, as after the argument Mava found she had trouble doing any kind of magic at all. It was the first time that Mava connected to many in her own clan. Her mother’s protective grasp prevented her from making more relationships. She had in her own time listened in when she could, an unquestionable eavesdrop. It made gauging how much she should know quite hard. She found that many of the clan saw her in a totally different light then she saw herself. Her own image warped by her mother’s parenting and harsh words.

In the years that followed she slowly gained confidence and tried to reconcile what exactly happened to her. She looked for her sister but no trace of her was ever found. No clan had seen her and no city elves had ever had a glance of her. In the meantime it turns out that Cylus and Diya had hit it off. Two years after they met, they were married, and Mava was thrilled for them. Soon after her niece Elgaris (Ellie) was born, and Mava was instantly smitten. She loved her and often took turns in taking care of her with her clan.

It was healing to see how the clan all gathered around the family and she couldn’t help but contrast it with how she was raised. At the age of 3 Ellie is discovered to have magic abilities. Mava pushes hard for her to remain with the other children her age, and only teaches her to control her power allowing her to learn on her own time.

In 9:41 Dragon Deshanna talks of giving Mava more serious duties, the first being attending the Exhalted Council in secret. She isn’t thrilled to leave her clan for so long, and still ill fit as a First but her Keeper assures her it will be a simple, but important task. And who is she to argue? It is her duty.

Then Inquisition happened.

[a-gay-bloodmage]

Finally, I've made some more of those picrews of my Rooks using the "Little Guy Maker" (Link)! Unlike my two Adaars, my lovely Qunari actually does have her proper skintone!

Here are the links to the posts about my Wardens and Inquisitors!

While they're all still very much so in development, I feel like I have a solid enough idea of them all to give them at least a paragraph's worth of description!

First up is Sascha Ingellvar! Every round of custom PCs I have has to have at least one neurotic redhead, and Sascha is the Rook that bears that torch! Abandoned in the depths of the Grand Necropolis as a child, Sascha has never truly known what it's like to be a part of a family. The members of the Mourn Watch are not only professionals, but Circle mages, and don't have the time to do things like "nurture" and "love" a baby. Awkward, suffering from frequent episodes of muteness, and gangly, all he wants in life is to be seen as a person capable of being loved.

Next to Sascha is Omri de Riva! The son of a casteless father and a noble mother, Omri has been despised since birth for causing his mother to be stripped of her caste and thrown onto the Surface. Eventually settling in Kirkwall, Omri's mother jumped at the chance to sell her son to the Crows as soon as possible. Shipped off to the de Riva house at thirteen, Omri quickly became Viago's pet project, the then-twenty year old assassin using Omri to prove how good he was at molding assassins. Omri lived, but lost his sense of self and taste as a result of all the abuse and poisons. He has a protective, paternal side, and did his best to keep a little girl, Sheraliase Lavellan, safe from the worst of Viago's "training," doing all he could to take the fledgling under his wing and keep her by his side until they were separated to keep them from getting any ideas of running away together. Will he share any of this with his friends? His lover, Neve? Ha! Of course not!

Below Sascha is Tamaris Aldwir! Often called "Tammie," Tamaris is a deeply compassionate and soft-spoken woman, but she's not afraid to put herself on the line for those she cares about. The daughter of two hunters in Zathrian's Clan, Tamaris was fascinated by the magic of the ancient elves. At the age of sixteen, she got her vallaslin—marking her with the design of Mythal for her maternal and self-sacrificial nature. Despite being poised to become the First to Zathrian, she gave up her position to help get Lanaya the spot, which she hoped would get the girl to be more accepted by the Clan. When Zathrian was revealed to be lying about the source of his immortality, Tamaris was devastated, but didn't let it stop her. She dedicated the next six years to exploring and cataloguing the Brecilian Ruins and others around it. When a group of Veil Jumpers met up with the Clan, she eagerly went with them, taking copies of her work. She proved to be an invaluable source of knowledge due to her Southern upbringing, which differed quite a bit from those native to the Arlathan forest.

Next to Tamaris is Tamassran Laidir! Often called "Masra" by her non-Qunari friends, Tamassran is a loyal adherent to the Qun. At the age of 24, she was sent to Rivain in 9:35 Dragon along with a ben-hassrath partner and several other members of the Ariqun, eventually infiltrating the Lords of Fortune in 9:42 in order to keep an even closer eye on Isabela, the thief of the Tome of Koslun. While initially despising the woman, she soon grew to care deeply for the Lords of Fortune, even if she's still loyal to the Qun. She helps keep them away from stealing Qunari artifacts, not for any moral reasons, but because she really doesn't want to fight her new friends when the Qunari wage a war against them. Masra is seen as the "mother" of the Lords of Fortune, and was sent to help stop Solas due to her skills navigating high-stress conflict with grace and an incredibly strong will.

Below Tamaris is Ishal Mercar! When she was three years old, her parents, two nobles from Orzammar, died of a mysterious illness Ishal swears was a poisoning. Due to the close ties between her family and the Mercars, Lord Mercar made his way to Orzammar to pick up the little girl and bring her back to Tevinter, changing her name from the dwarven "Eshaal" to the Tevinter version of the name, "Ishal." Her adopted parents and older brother were all mages, making her the odd one out in more ways than one. She spent her childhood training with one of the Mercar's highest-ranking guards, and came to the conclusion that he was better with a blade than any noble-born she'd ever met, shattering her ideas of the value of blood-determined caste and class. As a result, she fell in with the Shadow Dragons, both going on missions—unbeknownst to her family, of course—and supplying them with her family's surplus weapons.

Next to Ishal is Vincent Thorne! His father, Gabriel, attempted to run off to join the Dalish, but after getting a member of Clan Lavellan pregnant, he ran back to Halamshiral rather than face the idea of being a father. It didn't take long, however, for him to fall in love with Violette, an elven servant and model to a human painter in his native city of Halamshiral. Vincent grew up in the artist's studio with his four younger sisters until a chevalier attempted to rape his then-thirteen year old sister, Georgette, when Vincent was 17. He stabbed the man to death with a wood-carving gouge in the middle of the artisan's market. Before the Orlesian authorities or a mob could string him up, a witness, Gordon Blackwall—the real Blackwall—invoked the Right of Conscription, astounded at Vincent's bravery despite knowing only death awaited him for his actions. Vincent, nicknamed "Vinny" by the Wardens, is extremely dedicated to his cause, extremely dedicated to his loved ones, and extremely annoyed at the way people keep calling the elven gods "his people's" gods.

[oldxenomorph]

end of 2024 retrospective

interrupting rogue trader for a little bit to gather up all the stuff i enjoyed creating this year. being more active and creative has brought me a lot of joy! 🥹❤️ thank you for being with me on this journey! i will be getting weirder in the new year!

fics

ode to joy - birth of the red xenomorph.

a special day - for alien day 2024. once a year, the emperor’s daughters gather in the black palace, to be in their mother’s presence, to bask in her love for them.

anakalypteria (part one) - nyx/the reaper emperor. (18+) zagreus asks nyx if she has a companion, a partner, someone who she loves and calls significant other. the question brings forth the memory of her and the emperor when the universe was young.

spice of eternity - nyx/the reaper emperor. (18+) shai-hulud’s gift is best enjoyed in the company of one’s soulmate.

unmask, o night - nyx/the reaper emperor. (18+) successor to devourment. the night participates in an old ritual and feeds extinction.

heavy metals - reaper!nemesis/melinoë. (18+) nemesis returns after a century away from the crossroads, now a machine-goddess that serves the reaper emperor. her reunion with melinoë goes a step further, to make up for one hundred years of yearning.

lathbora viran - zarya'th lavellan and solas. (18+) as her body is on the brink of a meltdown, zarya'th lavellan makes a choice that ensures a terrifying future for thedas comes to pass in service of an entity far older than the evanuris. all disguises have been laid aside, there is no more hiding what she truly is. and the dread wolf must die.

garden of night - nyx/the reaper emperor. (18+) during a particularly longer than normal shift in the underworld, nyx summons the emperor in the darkest depths of persephone’s gardens to satiate her needs and desires.

meta

things about the emperor’s true form

little thing about parents in the great family (edited slightly)

melinoë and reaper!nemesis

zarya’th lavellan, xenomorph-hybrid post-trespasser

zarya’th lavellan and nova’ra ingellvar = fission and fusion

nemesis, nyx, and the emperor

soft ‘n spicy nyx and the emperor things

slaanesh and the great family

nycteïs and xenomorphs born of night and extinction

tyranids, the reaper emperor, and the xenomorphs

scorched xenomorph

artwork

nyx and the emperor (done prior to changing the emperor's height)

not mine, but this incredible portrait of the emperor by @fatherentropy

the emperor and nyx enjoying some spice melange

nyx for the banner art of unmask, o night

special

oldxenomorph plays rogue trader - holds out my hand to all my friends, let us enjoy warhammer 40,000: rogue trader together.

oldxenomorph yaps about wh40k - folks, we are so back!

works/ideas in progress

more nyx/the emperor lemons. duh.

anaklypteria part two.

nyx commissions the mi-go to create this dress for the emperor. it's perfect and she can't resist having the emperor worship her while in that dress.

(if matty @bodysnatch3r keeps sending me more stuff we're going to have a whole series on our hands. nyx loves dressing up her big, tall eldritch wife.)

maybe something with kibellah and the reaper emperor once i'm done with rogue trader. maybe a lot of thing with indoctrinated!kibellah.

something, anything involving slaanesh.

more things with the xenomorphs, obviously, maybe including the tyranids. but i already have a couple of works in progress of nyx with her and the emperor's xenomorphs.

more reaper!nemesis things once hades 2 early access is updated or gets a full release. i'm dying here, supergiant.

[thatapostateboy]

a ramble about my current planned Rook (and other Veilguard OCs) below the cut

(some spoilers for information released by Bioware thus far)

Evanura / Eva / Rook - elf, rogue, Shadow Dragon, romancing Davrin

city elf, taken from Denerim as a child during the Blight, along with her mother, and sold as a slave in Minrathous

spent years as a slave to a magister with only her ‘brother’ Ash as true company

she would take comfort in humming/singing songs from the Alienage, retelling the stories that her mother taught her to Ash. One day their master caught her singing, and she thought that she would be punished, but he became enamoured with her voice and would have her perform for him and guests

he saw potential in the young elf, and arranged for her to be trained to be used as a bodyguard and spy, in the ways of an Orlesian bard

after years of being enslaved; killing and spying on rival magisters just to survive, she had finally gained his trust enough to get his guard down was able to kill her master

in their attempt to escape, she and Ash were caught, and Ash took the full blame, stating that he had killed their master to protect her

she planned to help him escape prison before execution, but he was conscripted into the Grey Wardens

she used her newfound freedom to fight back against the corruption in Minrathous, eventually joining the Shadow Dragons

she looks for her mother everywhere she goes, not knowing what happened to her once they reached Minrathous

does not want to save the world, desperate to leave it to someone more qualified, until Varric convinces her otherwise

she and Solas are going to annoy tf out of each other, until they finally reach an understanding of two people who know what it is like to fight against a corrupt power system and be willing to do whatever they can to help people; peak unwilling dad/grumpy adopted daughter dynamic

aggressive/sarcastic toned to begin with but rediscovers her softness

is bad with animals, but manages to charm Assan almost instantly

thinks Davrin is honestly the most beautiful man she has ever seen, but she knows it probably will not be wise getting involved with a Grey Warden

huge fan of Lavellan (will use this to annoy Solas), has complicated feelings about the Hero of Ferelden (Tabris was a true hero, but damn, why couldn’t she have returned a few weeks earlier and saved more of their people?)

doesn't think the Champion of Kirkwall is a real person until she actually meets her

Ataashi / Ash - qunari, warrior, Grey Warden, undecided romance (possibly Harding or Lucanis)

remembers very little of his early childhood, believes he was taken from his father unwillingly (was in fact sold to slavers to pay off a gambling debt)

grew up as a slave in a Magister’s household, his naturally tall and strong form even from a young age making him an intimidating presence beside his master

despite being bigger than her, Eva became his older sister, protecting him from anyone’s ire, teaching him the stories and songs of her people, singing him to sleep with as many lullabies as she could remember

and when she was able to kill their master and give them a chance at freedom, he didn’t hesitate to take the blame and allow her to run

he was ready to face his death, knowing his sister was free, but fate stepped in when a passing Grey Warden had heard of his arrest and recruited him

he passed his Joining and found a new purpose among the Wardens, ready to stand and fight alongside his new found family, especially his friend Davrin

one day hopes to be worthy enough to have a griffon of his own

ndecided what route to take with romance as yet, will see who vibes with this wholesome himbo, possibly Harding or Lucanis

Beric / Bear / - dwarf, warrior, Lords of Fortune, romancing Emmrich

Not fully fleshed out his backstory yet, but some headcanons;

'Old gay dwarf seeking riches in local area'

Has been adventuring since he was big enough to swing a hammer

Has travelled most of the known world, and seen things beyond belief

Enjoys a good fight, a good drink and a good bed partner

Didn't expect to fall in love with a necromancing mage, but here we are - years later when they are settled and married, Emmrich will joke that Bear heard the 'rich' at the end of his name and fell instantly in love

[liaragaming]

Can we talk about Lavellan's dreams for a second? Because... I've kinda been there, and they fucking suck.

And as I'm reflecting on what Lavellan has been going through these past 10-7 years, I'm really hoping these dreams haven't continued.

*trigger warning for trauma following the death of a loved one*

When my mom passed away unexpectedly, I had reoccurring dreams of her for 6 months straight. And the dreams themselves were nice. It was just the two of us hanging out and doing mother-daughter stuff in the house where I grew up.

But, you know, when you're in a dream, everything feels real. And when you wake up, the first couple seconds can be disorienting.

So I would wake up, be confused for a second about where I was. And then I would remember that she was dead and I had been dreaming.

And it was like losing her all over again. Every single morning that I woke up from having one of these dreams, I would forget for just a fraction of a second that she was gone, and then have to remember again.

It was devastating. I was already grieving her during the day - why did I have to forget when I fell asleep, and then wake up sobbing in the morning? I felt like my brain was pulling some sick joke on me.

And like, no Solas isn't dead. But Levellan doesn't know where he is, doesn't know exactly what he's doing, but knows he believes it will end in his death. And she wants to find him and talk him out of it. And she can't.

So she's having these reoccurring dreams - not every night but with some amount of frequency - of him being right in front her and then disappearing when she reaches for him.

I can imagine her having a good day where she's hanging out with friends and having fun and she doesn't even think of Solas once. And then she falls asleep and has one of these dreams, and it's heartbreak all over again.

It's like torture. It really fucking is.

I just really don't want Lavellan to have had these for 7 years. Maybe after so much time has passed, she has a rare one once or twice a year that really set her back. But I just can't see her living in them regularly and not being horribly chronically depressed and angry (because, believe me, I got angry at what I kept experiencing).

I lived that for 6 months, and I wouldn't wish that one on anyone.

[hemerasiae]

Temporary Bio (because Carrd is my enemy)

CRESCENTIA VESPER WREX ' ROOK ' ➜ she/her / cis woman / lesbian ➜ 32 / human / mage ➜ 5'6" / athletic & lean ➜ FC: Denée Benton

Born as the second oldest of three daughters in the Free Marches' city-state of Wycome, Crescentia comes from a long line of mages. As the 'freest' state, Wycome is also known for its incredibly liberal Circle of Magi. Their mages, upon completing their Harrowings, integrate fully back into society and serve their community under the watchful eye of their superiors. This practice, which drew ire and criticism from the Chantry, saw a drastic increase in failed Harrowings and a significant improvement in the mental well-being of the Circle mages.

PLACEHOLDER POINTS

✦ befriends Clan Lavellan as a child, where she ultimately finds her barn owl companion, Gibbous (Gibby); learns a lot about magic and Dalish culture in general from the Clan and brings them any supplies within Wycome city limits, if ever needed ✦ Gibby is not a regular barn owl companion (he's a cool barn owl companion); there is something otherworldly about him, providing him an unnatural longevity ✦ Gibby is a Spirit (and Crescentia is aware but has told no one) ✦ Crescentia's already strong, natural sense of intuition has blossomed under Gibby's proximity to abilities similar to Rivain's seers (but it is very unpredictable and random) ✦ the Wrexes are 'friends' / allies of Vivienne and become known to the Inquisition through her ✦ Crescentia, her mother, and two sisters help the Inquisition fight with Clan Lavellan during the assault from the townsfolk ✦ works with the Inquisition as an agent within the Free Marches; leads her to connect with Dorian, as she wants to learn more about Tevinter ✦ moves to Minrathous when she is recruited for Maevaris and Dorian's Lucerni ✦ joins the Shadow Dragons once the Lucerni are dissolved ✦ living full-time in Minrathous for roughly 10 and a half years as of Veilguard

[vir-tanadahl]

Chapter 15: Whispers Beneath the Veil

I’m eagerly rewriting As the Moon Rises, which was originally written back in 2017, in anticipation of Dragon Age: Veilguard, channeling my excitement into refining the story. Summary: Isera Lavellan, at her mother’s behest, is sent to assist her twin brother, Banreas—the Inquisitor—in his mission to stop a force determined to bring about the world’s end. Together, they uncover long-buried secrets of their shared family history while Isera finds herself drawn to a mysterious non-Dalish elven mage whose knowledge of her heritage runs far deeper than she could have imagined. As the stakes rise, Isera must navigate this dangerous journey of discovery, where the past holds as much peril as the looming threats of the present. Solas x F!Lavellan.

[Ch1][Ch2][Ch3][Ch4][Ch5][Ch6][Ch7][Ch8]

[Ch9][Ch10][Ch11] [Ch12][Ch13] [Ch14] [Ch15]

It has been two years since the defeat of Corypheus, and the political winds have shifted dramatically. Ferelden seeks to disband the Inquisition, while Orlais pushes for its continuation, albeit with strings attached. Divine Victoria, the new leader, has been forced to call for an Exalted Council, triggering the return of all members of the inner circle.

Isera left days before her brother at the request of Divine Victoria. Though the invitation was formal, Isera knew it was motivated by the Divine’s desire to meet the twins, who are now 3 years old. Born amidst a year of turmoil and chaos, her children are the light for those closest to the darkness.

Now, Isera sits outside the Winter Palace, watching her three-year-olds waddle about, their laughter ringing in the crisp air. Every so often, they glance back at her, their eyes sparkling with mischief before continuing their playful conquests in the gardens.

Blackwall approaches first, looking older than before, his face lined with the weight of experience. He settles down next to her with a loud grunt, a warm smile breaking across his rugged features. “Lady Lavellan,” he greets her, though Isera can see the hint of discomfort in his eyes.

She smiles softly. “Blackwall.”

He shakes his head, the smile faltering slightly. “It’s Thom now,” he states, his tone more serious. “I’m trying to…atone.” There’s a weight behind his words. As he sits beside her, watching the twins, a loud shriek breaks the serene atmosphere. Sora and Viera suddenly spot Thom and rush toward him, their little legs pumping with excitement. Their faces are bright with joy as they babble happily, their tiny voices echoing in the air.

Thom scoops them up effortlessly, his laughter booming as he cradles them. Viera, ever the mischievous one, tugs playfully at his beard. Thom lets out an exaggerated yelp, clearly pretending to be in distress, much to the delight of the girls. Their giggles fill the space around them, creating a moment of pure happiness that momentarily lifts the heaviness of the world’s troubles.

Isera frowns, her brows knitting together. “Veira, no,” she firmly tells her daughter. But Veira simply grins, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Fun!” she babbles, undeterred, and promptly pulls on Blackwall’s beard again.

Isera rolls her eyes, exasperated, but Blackwall only chuckles, his deep voice rumbling with amusement. “That one will be a warrior when she’s older. Just watch,” he predicts, glancing knowingly at the spirited toddler.

Isera can’t help but smile despite her concern. Veira’s fearless nature and headstrong demeanor are unmistakable even at her young age. In contrast, Sora stands nearby, her big, expressive eyes contemplative as she observes the world around her. Quiet but equally passionate, she embodies a different kind of strength.

“By the sun, I hope not,” Isera replies, shaking her head with mock seriousness as she stands up, brushing off her skirts. The ringing of the afternoon bell chimes in the distance, a reminder that it’s almost time to visit the Divine.

“Come, girls, let’s go find Varric,” Isera calls, turning to guide her daughters away from Blackwall’s playful antics.

Thom nods, his expression shifting to one of encouragement as he gently places Veira and Sora back on the ground. “It was nice seeing you,” he says to Isera, then strides off toward a practice area where he can hone his skills with a training dummy, the soft thud of his boots fading into the background.

The girls squeal at the sound of Varric’s name, their excitement palpable as they rush towards him. They both adore his stories and the unique gifts he brings from Kirkwall. Isera chuckles to herself, remembering how she often had to physically remove the twins from his lap during their naps, their eyelids heavy with sleep yet unwilling to leave the allure of his tales.

Varric grins broadly as the twins hug him tightly, their small arms barely able to wrap around his stout frame. He turns his gaze toward Isera, winking playfully. In a swift motion, he pulls out another intricately carved figurine from his satchel. The girls’ faces light up with delight as they scramble to examine the new treasure, their giggles filling the air as they begin to play.

After a moment of watching them, Varric’s expression shifts to something more serious. “I’m going to ask a personal question,” he announces, his tone shifting slightly. Isera can sense the gravity in his words and nods, already anticipating what he’s about to ask.

“All right,” she replies, her voice steady.

“Now, you don’t have to answer,” he clarifies, his respect for her boundaries evident. “But your eyes are that white color again. Do you still have your sight? Like how we see?” Varric’s brow furrows slightly as he watches the twins run around him, their laughter contrasting with the concern in his voice.

“Surprisingly, yes.” Isera is taken aback by her own words. “I’m not sure why they went back to the white color. It happened soon after the Breach closed, I think. But I can still see.” Her explanation is laced with a hint of confusion.

She recalls waking up one morning, bewildered to find her irises consumed once again by that milky white color. The realization struck her when Banreas had panicked, his eyes wide with concern as he stumbled over his words, apologizing profusely. It was only when they both recognized that she could still see—albeit differently—that the tension in the room eased.

Varric shrugs, a playful grin spreading across his face. “Well, shit. Magic is weird,” he says with a sigh. “But you know what? I think the Divine would like to see these two.” He gestures toward the girls, who are now sprawled on the ground, their little faces flushed from the dizzying fun of chasing each other in circles.

Isera chuckles, her heartwarming at the sight of them. “Leliana is their favorite,” she winks at the dwarf, knowing how the spymaster has taken a particular liking to her daughters. She signals to her little ones that it's time to go, and they spring to their feet, clutching their dolls tightly.

Varric laughs, the sound hearty and infectious. “Isera, please! We both know I’m their favorite storyteller, right, girls?” He leans down, winking at them with exaggerated flair. The twins burst into laughter, their innocent joy lighting up the courtyard as they wrap their tiny arms around Isera’s legs, dolls precariously wedged into their mouths.

“Noooo!” they cry out in unison, their words muffled but filled with playful protest, followed by more giggles and shy glances up at Varric.

“Now, ladies, I am offended!” Varric exclaims, throwing his hand in the air with exaggerated flair, his expression mock-serious. As a courtier approaches, he quickly adds, “You all might want to leave before the joy is sucked out of you too.” His frown contrasts sharply with the playful glint in his eyes.

Isera shakes her head, suppressing a laugh as she overhears Varric gagging dramatically at the Seneschal talk about the Merchants Guild. His antics always lighten the atmosphere, and she appreciates the brief respite from the political tension that seems to linger in the air.

As she leads the twins toward the Divine, a broad smile spreads across her face at the sight of Divine Victoria. The Divine’s eyes light up with delight as she spots Sora and Veira approaching. “Pardon me,” she tells the nobles engaged in conversation, crouching down with her arms wide open.

The twins squeal with equal excitement, running to latch onto the Divine. “Sora and Veira! My loves, how are you?” she exclaims, showering them with kisses on their cheeks. The girls beam back at her, responding with enthusiastic “Gooood!” as their tiny fingers tug at the rich fabric of the Divine’s gown, captivated by the shimmer.

“They are growing so fast, Isera,” Divine Victoria comments, her gaze drifting to Isera, who stands beside her. The Most Holy glances around, ensuring the coast is clear before turning back to the girls. “When you are seven, I will teach you a few things about well-placed daggers,” she whispers conspiratorially, a sly smile playing on her lips.

Isera arches an eyebrow, giving the Divine a disapproving look. “Only for self-defense, of course,” the Divine says, raising her hands in a gesture of innocence as she stands back up, clearly amused by the exchange.

Isera chuckles softly, watching as Sora and Veira clamber onto a nearby couch, their giggles echoing through the room. “These two are probably the safest toddlers in Thedas,” Isera points out, feeling a swell of pride as she observes them, their innocence shining brightly amidst the complexities of the world around them.

Leliana nods in agreement, her expression serious. “Between Bull’s Chargers, the Inner Circle of the Inquisition, and…well…me, no one would dare touch them,” the Divine confirms, her voice steady. “But it still makes them targets. I will see to it that they have escorts during this time.”

With a graceful wave to a nearby servant, the Divine whispers instructions. Moments later, another elf approaches them with a gentle smile. “Most Holy, I was informed we have two little ones who want to see the litter of nugs?”

“Oh, yes!” The Divine's eyes light up as she looks at Isera for approval. Isera glances at the elf, recognizing her poise beneath the guise of a mere servant. “I am sure the girls will love them,” Isera replies, giving her permission for the twins to be taken from her sight.

“Oh, good.” The servant kneels to the twins’ level, her voice soft as she introduces herself and begins to share stories about the nugs. The twins glance at their mother, their eyes wide with excitement, waiting for her nod of approval. When Isera gives them the go-ahead, they erupt with joyful screams, bounding off the couch and eagerly grabbing onto the servant’s hands.

Isera watches with a mixture of pride and a touch of melancholy as they disappear down a side corridor of the Winter Palace.

Turning back to the Divine, she feels a sense of warmth in their exchange. “I believe your brother has arrived as well. You should go find him,” Divine Victoria advises, her tone encouraging. “And I have to return to these duties.” She pauses, her gaze softening. “It's nice to see you again, Isera. You must come visit more often.”

“Of course.” Isera nods as she heads back down the steps, her heart lightened by the twins’ antics. She first spots Cullen with a mabari, his focus entirely on the dog. He throws a stick with a strong arm, but the hound merely wags its tail, barking with glee and refusing to retrieve it.

Isera approaches, a smile creeping onto her face. “New friend?” she asks, bending down to meet the dog’s eager gaze. The hound barks in delight, as if in agreement with her statement.

Cullen nods, stroking the mabari’s glossy fur. “They said he was abandoned. Another Ferelden stuck in Orlais.” His tone is light, but Isera can sense the underlying yearning for home—a feeling that had grown in him since their journey began.

Isera smirks, nudging him playfully. “Maybe a Ferelden will take him in,” she suggests, arching an eyebrow. Cullen chuckles, the grin on his face wide. “Well…”

Isera leans closer, a teasing glint in her eye. “Your nephew will adore him!” Cullen laughs softly, but his gaze grows thoughtful. “I’m not completely sure if Mia will want another hound,” he admits, shaking his head slightly. Isera rolls her eyes; she knows better. Mia lived on a farm, and another lively mabari would be a welcome addition to their family, not to mention a source of endless joy for the children.

“No one can say no to that cute face!” Isera grins as the mabari barks in response, tail wagging furiously. Cullen looks up at her, a smile breaking through the weariness in his eyes. “I believe your brother is with Cassandra on the other side of the courtyard. Also, Mia wanted me to inform you that she misses you and wants you to come visit again.”

“I was just there!” Isera gasps, her smile widening. Mia had unconditionally taken her in during a time of vulnerability, and their bond had only grown stronger since. They were family, through and through, despite everything. “Tell her I will visit soon!” she calls back, a warmth blossoming in her chest.

Isera makes her way toward where her brother is, taking her time to soak in the atmosphere of the Winter Palace. It has been over two years since she first set foot in this grand hall, and the memories flood back—both good and bad.

As she strolls through the lush gardens, she spots Briala making her over. “Lady Lavellan,” Briala greets, her voice smooth and melodic. The Marquise of the Dales wears a mask that beautifully reflects her status, adorned with intricate designs that hint at her heritage.

“Marquise,” Isera replies, bowing her head slightly in respect. Briala has blossomed into her role, cultivating a substantial elven presence in the Dales, particularly in the Emerald Graves, where she advocates for their rights and heritage.

Briala’s gaze sharpens as she studies Isera. “Your title suits you,” she says, a glimmer of admiration in her eyes. “An audacious reward for assisting with the defeat of Corypheus.” Isera shrugs, a hint of discomfort creeping in. Empress Celene had granted her a noble title after the battle, and King Alistair had echoed that sentiment. But the weight of those honors often felt suffocating, especially after she had fled Skyhold to seek solace. “Such as it is,” she responds, her voice tinged with reluctance.

Briala continues to assess her with a playful smile. “Perhaps such a title is in need of something more…” She taps her chin thoughtfully. “Such as land to own and people to protect.”

Isera’s eyebrows rise at the idea. “Perhaps. Such a cost could be significant.” She had begun advocating for the rights of elves in both Ferelden and Orlais, with Josephine assisting in crafting a narrative to make her appealing to the nobles.

Briala gestures for Isera to follow her, a friendly smile lighting up her face. The two women appear like long-lost friends, delighted to reconnect. But this is Orlais, and the Great Game never sleeps.

“Perhaps it may be, for others. The Empress has granted me land within the Dales to call my own. None desire the elven keep in the Exalted Plains after the massacre during the civil war. They believe the fortress to be cursed,” Briala shares, her tone laced with a mix of pride and trepidation.

Isera grins at the notion. “There is one thing I know about humans: they are terrified of curses, especially elven curses.” Briala laughs, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “That they are. But I do not have sufficient manpower to fill the castle. However, you could.”

Isera stares at her, the weight of Briala’s suggestion sinking in. The land, though barren from the war, holds potential. Could the Dalish really be drawn to her? They could rebuild, restore their heritage. Briala continues, her voice imbued with urgency. “Rumors have been swirling about the blind elven mage who has walked among city elves, Dalish elves, and those bound to the Circles. They all seek a leader and a place. With my assistance…”

Just then, an elven servant passes by, picking up the remnants of a feast left behind by someone else. Isera watches the servant move, sensing the quiet determination that echoes through their actions. Isera keeps her smile, though it falters slightly. “The changing of the winds is quite interesting this year, isn’t it?” she asks, a hint of caution underlying her words.

“Quite. Hopefully, they will remain calm. But alas, a storm may come,” Briala answers, her gaze shifting to the servant. There’s a weight in her words, as if she senses the turmoil beneath the surface of their seemingly peaceful world.

“That it may. It might do one well to have strong walls, no?” Isera replies, watching as the servant walks away without a glance in their direction. Briala smirks, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “It is nice to see you, Lady Lavellan. We should do this more often.”

“Of course!” Isera beams, turning to walk away in search of her brother. As she turns the corner, she spots him sitting on the stairs next to Cassandra. Isera observes as Cassandra rises and walks away, her expression contemplative. Banreas stands, turning to ascend the stairs, but he looks agitated, his body stiffer than usual, and a scowl creases his brow.

“Brother?” Isera calls, quickening her pace to catch up.

He meets her gaze, a storm brewing in his eyes. “Do you think I would make a good husband?” he asks abruptly, the seriousness of his tone catching her off guard. Isera blinks, taken aback. “I—what? Are you getting married?” She glances back at Cassandra, who is now looking out towards the horizon. The Seeker had always been a closeted romantic; if there was to be a proposal, Cassandra seemed oddly calm about it.

Banreas glances over his shoulder, ensuring the coast is clear before continuing down the stairs. “No. She doesn’t want to get married.” His voice is laced with frustration, and he shakes his head as if trying to dislodge the thoughts plaguing him. “Do you think it’s because I’m a Dalish elf?” He asks, the vulnerability in his tone evident.

“Never mind, don’t answer that.” He waves her off dismissively, the agitation radiating off him like heat. “I have to attend the Council.”

Isera silently follows her brother into the grand hall, where the Divine, Arl Teagan, and Cyril de Montfort await. The atmosphere is thick with tension, and the air is punctuated by the occasional cough or murmur of the courtiers. As the talks begin, they quickly devolve into posturing between Orlais and Ferelden, the speeches filled with flowery language that masks the underlying power struggles.

An hour into the discussions, an agent approaches Banreas, speaking urgently in hushed tones. The shock on Banreas’s face is palpable as he abruptly excuses himself from the table, leaving the court in a flurry of whispers and curious glances.

Isera's heart races as she watches her brother’s expression shift from surprise to concern. She hurries out of the hall, desperate to catch up with him. However, she quickly realizes that the area beyond the doors is cordoned off by the Inquisition guards, preventing her from following.

He is gone for a few moments before he reappears, his expression carefully neutral as if nothing significant had occurred. “We have a slight problem, and I need your help,” he whispers urgently, leaning in closer to Isera. “Can you get Iron Bull, Cassandra, and Cole?” Without waiting for her response, he dashes away again, disappearing into the throng of courtiers.

Isera’s heart races. The tone in Banreas’s voice sends a chill down her spine, igniting a sense of urgency within her. She glances around the hall, spotting Iron Bull nearby, engaged in conversation with a few soldiers.

---

Banreas shared the thrilling news of their latest discovery: a dead qunari and an active eluvian. With a mix of anticipation and trepidation, the group stepped through the shimmering surface of the mirror, leaving behind the familiar surroundings of their world.

As they emerged, they found themselves in the Crossroads, a realm alive with vibrant colors and an almost palpable energy. The air crackled with magic, and the enchanting beauty of the landscape stretched out before them, beckoning exploration and adventure.

“Woah…” Isera breathes, her eyes wide as she takes in the breathtaking landscape. “It is…beautiful here,” she adds, her voice filled with wonder. Banreas points excitedly at the vibrant bushes of flowers that seem to pulse with life. Everything around them is far more radiant than anything she has encountered before; the sky is alive with swirling colors, and the flowers shimmer with an ethereal essence of magic. Even the stones beneath their feet twinkle with ancient energy.

Banreas kneels to pluck a flower from one of the bushes, marveling at its brilliance. “Do you see this? How are plants thriving here?” he wonders aloud, twirling the delicate stem between his fingers as if it might dissolve in his grip.

Cassandra, however, looks around with skepticism. “What are you talking about? All I see is gray and dead plants,” she announces, her brow furrowed in confusion as she squints into the distance.

“Yeah, Boss, all I see is gray,” Iron Bull chimes in, shrugging as he surveys the area, before turning his attention to the trail of blood leading into another eluvian. “But I’m not exactly one for gardening,” he adds with a smirk, his focus shifting back to the task at hand.

Cole looked around, taking in the kaleidoscope of color and energy, the pulse of the Crossroads resonating with his very essence. It’s a song,” he mused, his voice a gentle whisper that seemed to blend seamlessly with the vibrant chorus of the realm. “The colors weave together like notes, each one telling a story, each blossom echoing a heartbeat.”

Isera and Banreas exchange puzzled glances, grappling with the mystery of why Cassandra and Iron Bull could only perceive the landscape as gray and lifeless. “Perhaps the elves crafted this place in a way that resonates differently with us,” Isera proposes thoughtfully. “It could be that our connection to the Fade? To what the elves of old created.” As they venture further, the path leads them to an ancient elven ruin nestled and floating in the mountains, its architecture a testament to the artistry of a bygone era. Almost everything remains remarkably preserved, despite parts and pieces crumbling and separate, echoing with the whispers of the past.

As they cross the bridge, they are greeted by spirit warriors, their forms unmistakably elven, yet ethereal in nature. The air crackles with the weight of their presence. One steps forward, speaking in an ancient tongue, the sound of the words thick with an accent so archaic it feels like the echoes of a long-forgotten time.

“Atish’all vallem, Fen’harel elathadra,” the spirit intones, its voice reverberating with ancient power. The words are incomprehensible, save for a single name that resonates with Banreas—Fen’harel. His brow furrows, recognizing the Dread Wolf’s name but not the rest of the message.

Isera's gaze remains fixed on the spirit warriors, her eyes narrowing as the whispers in her mind stir. The voices from the Well begin to murmur, piecing together the meaning behind the cryptic elven dialect.

“Neuvas mana helanin, dirth bellasa ma!” the spirit calls again, urgency in its tone. Isera closes her eyes for a moment, focusing on the voices that work to translate the ancient words. Slowly, their meaning begins to crystallize in her mind, but an uneasy feeling grows alongside the understanding.

“Isera…” Banreas whispers, his voice low as the spirit warriors shifts with growing impatience.

“Ahhhh!” Isera cries out in frustration, clutching her head as the voices in her mind surge. She inhales sharply, her expression twisting as the translation finally clicks into place. “Ar-melana dirthavaren. Revas vir-anaris,” she recites, the words foreign on her tongue yet filled with a strange sense of authority.

The spirit warrior inclines its head, stepping aside as if recognizing the phrase. “Amae lethalas,” it responds, the tension dissipating as the way forward is cleared.

Banreas stares at Isera, his eyes full of unspoken questions. "What just happened?" he asks, his voice hushed but urgent.

Isera hesitates, the weight of what she’s learned settling over her. “It was part of a ritual. A secret greeting for those… Fen’harel trusted.” Her eyes meet Banreas’s, her brow furrowed in thought. “The Well of Sorrows knew this. If Fen’harel’s spirit warriors recognize it... does that mean they were close?”

Banreas shakes his head, clearly unsettled. “I don’t like this,” he says plainly, his tone laced with unease as they continue forward.

---

They stood in the ancient elven ruin nestled deep within the mountain range, the last remnants of the qunari they had fought lying scattered around. The battle was over, but the mystery was far from solved. Banreas pointed to a mural etched into the far wall, its intricate carvings bathed in a soft, mystical glow.

“It’s showing the removal of the vallaslin,” Isera said, her fingers tracing the delicate lines of the ancient art. Her voice was quiet, reverent, as if speaking any louder might disturb the sanctity of the space.

Cassandra stepped forward, her eyes narrowing as she studied the mural. “Untouched for Maker knows how long,” she murmured, her tone filled with wonder.

“But how did the qunari get here? And how in the Void did they gain access to these magic mirrors?” Iron Bull growled, his frustration evident. The lack of answers left him unsettled. He hated being in the dark, and right now, that’s all they had—shadows and mysteries.

While the others examined the room, Isera wandered back toward the bunks, her curiosity piqued. She began sifting through the worn bedding, her hands brushing against something solid. A codex. Pulling it free, she flipped through the brittle pages, her brow furrowing as she read.

“I think we have another player in this game,” Isera called out, rereading the note aloud. “This letter mentions an attack. They didn’t understand anything… except the name Fen’harel.”

She hopped off the bed, handing the note to Banreas. He took it, his eyes scanning the words with a grim expression.

“We need to inform the Council,” Banreas said, his gaze drifting back to the large, imposing statue of Fen’harel standing in the center of the room. Its stone eyes seemed to watch them with silent judgment. “Is, this involves magic. Which artifact do we need?”

Isera grunted in frustration, the overwhelming layers of magic tiring her. “The third veil fire lantern—it's more heavily enchanted than the others,” she said, pointing to the artifact glowing faintly in the corner of the room.

Banreas grinned mischievously. “Da’fen!” he whispered just loud enough for Isera to hear. She shot him a sharp glare, her hand flicking out to send a harmless orb of energy his way. Banreas yelped in surprise but quickly erupted into laughter. Isera, rolling her eyes, lit the veil fire lantern. The magic pulsed through the room, and with a deep rumble, the statue of Fen’harel shifted, revealing a hidden stairwell beneath. “Hey, Isera…” Banreas's voice took on a playful, sing-song tone despite the seriousness of their situation. Isera tensed immediately, recognizing the all-too-familiar setup. “Don’t you dare!” she shouted, already knowing what was coming.

“Do you wanna blow this statue up?” Banreas said in a rush, grinning from ear to ear, fully aware that his sister wished this joke would die a quiet death. Isera groaned loudly, her face contorted in frustration. Without another word, she jumped down into the stairwell, eager to escape Banreas's antics.

“Ugh!” she muttered under her breath, though a small, unwilling smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she descended into the hidden depths. Isera’s eyes quickly scanned the dimly lit room as a cold realization hit her—she wasn’t alone.

“Enemies!” she shouted, instinctively hurling a fireball at the nearest Qunari. The fiery blast erupted in a burst of light, slamming into the enemy as her companions rushed down the stairs to join the fray. The sound of steel clashing echoed through the hidden chamber, and magic crackled in the air as the fight raged on.

With precise strikes from Cassandra and Bull’s sweeping blows, the last of the Qunari fell. Banreas, breathing heavily, wiped blood from his blade as Isera lowered her staff. “Is that the last of them?” Bull grunted, surveying the scene. Isera nodded, her pulse still racing. “We need to get back.”

Without hesitation, the group retraced their steps, moving swiftly back through the eluvian. The magic swirled around them as they were transported back to the familiar halls of the Winter Palace, leaving the hidden ruin behind.

[herald-divine-hell]

Some background and aspects of her personality:

Esaira Lavellan was a mere child when she witnessed the butchering of her mother and father by a wayward band of nobility near the city-state of Kirkwall in 9:22. What was founded by Clan Lavellan when they came searching for them was left unsaid, but rumors among the children whispered of a great ring of blacken ash, and scarlet embers speckling the piles like bleeding stars. The adults spurred away such rumors, but still spoke silently amongst one another, of the dangerous glint in a child's eyes, and beyond that the instability of this new orphan daughter.

Never a laughing child, what was left with the burnt corpses of her mother and father seemed to have taken what little petals of joy she held. Ever since that night, gloom and rage followed her, became the parents she had lost. Words did not come easily to Esaira Lavellan, even before her sorrowing, but now the words that did come were short, curt, heated with anger that never left her, that burned as fiercely as any pyre in purple eyes dark as coming twilight. She ate but a little, yet Keeper Deshanna was well aware that it was not foodstuff she craved, but vengeance.

Indeed, as the time came and her magic grew, it was Esaira who led the expeditions, the raids, against the shemlen, capturing one or two, and forcing them to flee in the forest, playing them as if they were sport. Esaira's actions received praised amongst many, especially those who despised the shemlen, but it won her no friends. Indeed, Esaira seemed only ever close to Keeper Deshanna, who took her as her own after the death of her parents, loving her as much as she can, and hoping to ease the melancholy that shrouded her like a heavy cloak. Yet it did little, even as Esaira excelled in great feats of magic, though they often came raw, untamed, as heavy and lumbering as a storm cloud swallowing the sun, and swift-footed among the scouts that she was.

Despite Esaira's arrogance and rage, Esaira's magical abilities and her adoration of all things Elven lent her the favorability of becoming the Keeper's First, despite outrage from Esaira's rival Varathen, who saw Esaira's anger as a detraminite and danger. Keeper Deshanna seemed well aware of those problems, however, and urged in private among the older Lavellans to take be a powerful bloc against Esaira, in case of Deshanna's early death. "Ease her anger and be a calming hand upon her shoulder, and in time the child will heal surely."

But Deshanna's love never wavered for this quiet, willful child, for though Esaira was fierce in anger and wild in speech, her loyalty for Deshanna and the Dalish was unquestionable. Perhaps it was that loyalty in which led to Deshanna to allow Esaira to attend the Conclave of Justinia V as a spy, despite the protests of many within Clan Lavellan. According to later sources, the Keeper of Clan Lavellan was reported to have said, "She will act righteously among the Shem if demanded, and we have no fears of her [acting against] our commands. Truly, she is among the best of our scouts, and hears deeper than many."

Esaira is...probably my most problematic oc. So it's hard to figure out who she would romance in Dragon Age?

[thesummerstorms]

No game engine is gonna reflect the weird complexity of my imagined world state though.

Evanna Evandre Trevelyan, my gentle, overly cautious but angry pro-mage scholar of an Inquistor is the third of four children born to a man who's had five wives and loved none of them.

She has complicated political ties Antiva and Orlais through her step-mothers, Ansburg through her maternal family, and Antiva again through a paternal cousin.

Her living stepmothers are generally sympathetic. The youngest is terrified and hoping Evandre will hide her younger half-brother. Her father, however, despises her. So does her older sister. Her oldest brother is weak and doesn't care about Evandre one way or the other.

She was raised in the Ostwick Circle, then sent away to Markham when her presence in Ostwick became a barrier for her half-sister Catareen's Templar training. She preferred Markham, given its link to a major university, but was sent back just before the mage rebellion broke out. Markham is where, through the University, she became part of the Mages' Collective.

Niamh Amell, Warden Commander of Fereldan, and her husband, Zevran Aranai, showed up to take command of the Orlesian wardens, enabling Alistair to be left in the fade and Hawke to escape.

(Alistair's choice to stay is actually the final moment of his and Niamh's reconciliation, post dark ritual.)

Anora Mac Tir is Queen of Fereldan, with two daughters by Fergus Cousland, who she has an affectionate political marriage with. One of them is secretly a mage.

Cecily Cousland survived Arle Howe, badly injured and disfigured, and has become Anora's unofficial liason with the Wardens due to her under-the-table marriage to Nathaniel Howe. Their marriage purposefully childless, with the idea that Amaranthine will pass back to the younger of Cecily's nieces, and thereby the crown, after both their deaths.

Nathaniel Howe is in charge of the keep in Amaranthine because politics, but Therasenn Mahariel is Niamh's true second, and the one running things for most of Amell's wardens. Nathaniel's oversees the day to day, but listens to her orders.

Therasenn's remained single/considers herself a widow since Tamlen's death. If she had been in the fade, she would've insisted on taking Alistair's place as she sees herself as stuck in a holding pattern. It sets off some bad mental health moments that don't pass until Hawke connects her with Merrill.

Cattilara Tabris is put forward by Amell as the genuine liaison from the Wardens to the Inquisiton and is eventually in charge of overseeing a Blackwall who is sentenced to join the Wardens properly. She's dating Herah "Echo" Adaar. She oversees the Orlesian wardens in the day to day, whereas Therasenn has command of the Fereldan ones, and Amell outranks them both.

Herah "Echo" Adaar is literally just a merc who signed up with the inquisition to make things stop exploding and gradually gets promoted to help integrate the Inquisiton's other "non-standard" fighting forces and keep the Chantry-esque folks noses out of it.

Mahvirehn Lavellan was sent as a spy by his keeper and is now the Inquisition's formal liaison with the Dalish, a role which puts a target on his back from the beginning, especially as he's also a Keeper in training. That's fine though, because Dorian will absolutely explode anyone who tries to kill his boyfriend, and doesn't mind using the "big bad scary Tevinter mage" rep to keep it from getting there.

Rowan Hawke escaped Kirkwall, showed up in the Inquisition, and might possibly be dating the Inquisitor, Evandre Trevelyan. (If so, Varric is thrilled! But I haven't decided.)

Carver Hawke did not, in fact, go to Weishaupt. He's actually the one who finally managed to make contact with his cousin, Niamh Amell, and he's present at the battle for the Keep.

Later, he gets put in charge, and is pissed at Therasenn for making it about his name rather than his abilities and for forfeiting the role despite her experience levels. She mantains that she needs more flexibility than the role would entail. Appealing to Niamh makes it worse, not better.

Therasenn and Merril get an off screen reunion and cry about it because they both miss home. Merrill doesn't become an Inquisition agent, but Therasenn forwards bits of her letters as war table operations sometimes.

Rowan Hawke might go back to help throw Sebastian Vael out of Kirkwall, idk. But she's largely decided against living there. (Unless she romances Evandre, in which case Varric offering Evandre a title and estate in Kirkwall becomes a lot more of a calculated gesture lol.)

[dreadfutures]

Accepting Dragon Age Prompts

You can send me prompts any time. They do not need to be from a list! They can just be any idea you have for my characters, or canon characters. I can't promise I will get to your prompt promptly (or at all).

Please copy + paste the whole prompt WITH A CHARACTER OR PAIRING SPECIFIED.

DA Drunk Writing Circle

‼️Please copy + paste the whole prompt ‼️WITH A CHARACTER OR PAIRING SPECIFIED.‼️

Prompt Lists

You can find all prompt lists here, or find some lists below. I will always take freeform idea prompts for any of my characters and ships. I also love characters from Tevinter Nights, The Last Court, and the Dragon Age Comics!

Prompts I like ATM:

Serault Prompts for Anyone

Aberdeen Gothic Prompts for Anyone

Dialogue for the Damaged

Dialogue from the Hero

Prompts from The Fall 2006

Prompts from the Scarlet Pimpernel 1982

Nonsexual Intimacy Prompts for Anyone

Prompts from Circe for Anyone

Lord Huron Prompts for Anyone

Short & Angsty Prompts for Anyone

50 Types of Kisses

Prompts for the Budding Romance

Prompts from Midnight Mass for Anyone

Prompts As Said by Dorian Pavus

Prompts As Said by Cassandra Pentaghast

Prompts All About the Yearning

Kubo and the Two Strings Prompts for Anyone

Prompt Me for a Character Codex Entry

Soft and Sweet Romantic Prompts

Ships and Characters I like ATM:

Ixchel Lavellan/Solas

Ixchel Lavellan (DA4) & Solas

Terinelan Lavellan (DA4) & Solas

Terinelan Lavellan & Ixchel Lavellan

Solas/Felassan

Felassan & Ixchel Lavellan

Morrigan

Kieran (child)

Kieran (DA4)

Morrigan & Kieran

Morrigan & Ixchel Lavellan

Morrigan/Halevune Mahariel

OC & OC :)

My Characters & Ships

Inquisitor Ixchel Lavellan

AKA: The Brave Guide, Champion of the People, and Inquisitor God-Song Main Relationships: ▸ Solas (Romantic) ▸ Formerly-Tranquil Felassan (UST) ▸ Halevune Mahariel (Fallen Hero/Tarnished Idol) ▸ Terinelan Lavellan (Sibling Energy) ▸ Any NPCs/OCs (Platonic) AU Relationships ▸ Sebastian Vael (Romantic) ▸ Dirthamen (Romantic AU) ▸ Kieran (Romantic/Chaste young!AU) More information about Ixchel below.

Warden-Commander Halevune Mahariel

AKA: Teyrn of Gwaren, Arl of Amaranthine, Hero of Ferelden, and The Windy Marcher Relationships: ▸ Morrigan (Romantic) ▸ Kieran (Son) ▸ Zevran Arainai (Mentor) ▸ Ixchel Lavellan (Mentee) ▸ Merrill (Sibling)

Terinelan Lavellan

AKA: First of Clan Lavellan Relationships: ▸ Ixchel Lavellan (Little Sister & Friend) ▸ Istimaethoriel Lavellan (NB Parent) ▸ Other Dalish OCs (platonic or romantic)

Spirit of Glory

AKA: The Shattered Main Relationships: ▸ Ixchel Lavellan (Mentee) ▸ Solas (Contemptuous) ▸ Felassan (Wary Ally) ▸ Shadows of the Evanuris (Enemies) Relationships: ▸ Andruil (Lord, Owner) ▸ Pride (Rival, Enemy) ▸ Ixchel (Prey, Enemy) ▸ Ghilan'nain (Lover, Enemy)

Inquisitor Ixchel Mahariel of Amaranthine

AKA: Foundling, Vigil's Daughter, Young Inquisitor Relationships: ▸ Halevune Mahariel (Adopted Father) ▸ Kieran (Adopted Little Brother) ▸ Morrigan (Adopted Mother) ▸ Zevran Arainai (Protective Uncle) ▸ Leliana (Close Confidant) ▸ Velanna (Tutor, Aunt) ▸ Nathaniel (Tutor, Protective Uncle) ▸ Alistair Theirin (Disliked in a Teenage Way) ▸ Lace Harding (Big Sister) ▸ Other advisors & NPCs

Other Relationships I Write

Feel free to suggest others! ▸ Solas & Formerly Tranquil Felassan ▸ Solas / Felassan (Elvhenan AU) ▸ Solas & Merrill ▸ Solas & Dirthamen ▸ Solas & Dorian ▸ Solas & Cillian ▸ Solas & Lace Harding (Shadows in the Sun AU) ▸ Solas/Cassandra (Shadows in the Sun AU) ▸ Formerly Tranquil Felassan & Cole ▸ Felassan & Briala ▸ Cillian & Merrill ▸ Suggest some!

More on my OCs and AUs

OCs

Ixchel Lavellan

👉 TLDR: all of her story, summarized F | Bisexual | 16 (young timeline) or 27 (DPDF) years old | 2-Handed Champion | Inspiration for Elven Rebellions | Pro-Labor Unions | No-Nonsense | Depressed and Burnt Out (young timeline), Learning to Be Hopeful and Optimistic (DPDF) | Mixed race & Mexican coded | Vallaslin to Dirthamen (DPDF)

Halevune Mahariel

M | Heterosexual | 28 | Assassin & Legionairre | Secretly a Vigilante Protecting Alienages | Exhausted with Politics & Broken Promises | Wife Guy | Grumpy Asshole with a Heart of Gold | Secretly a Softy | Face Cast: Cillian Murphy | Activist Burn Out Embodied | Vallaslin to Falon'Din

Terinelan Lavellan

M | Gay | 18 | Keeper Magic | First of his Clan | Pacificst | Good Cook | Endlessly Kind | Endlessly Optimistic | Wants City Elves and Dalish to Cooperate | Accepts the Truth about the Creators | Still Keeps his Vallaslin | Vallaslin to Sylaise

AUs

Shadows in the Sun AU

My official DA4 world state! A Fereldan feral child stumbles across the Hero, Halevune Mahariel, and he helps her find her name: Ixchel. Clan Lavellan takes her in, and she volunteers to attend the Conclave as a spy for her clan. At only 16 years old, she becomes the Herald and then the Inquisitor. She is pulled in many directions by her advisors and companions and generally has a really fucked up world state. By the time Corypheus is defeated, Ixchel comes to think of the Inquisition as her family—a family that no longer needs an Inquisitor. With her clan massacred, Ixchel has no purpose and no place in the world. She attends the Exalted Council in the midst of a deep depression made worse by the Anchor’s destabilization and the tension of politics surrounding the Inquisition. Solas’s revelation—and his refusal to let her join him—drives her nearly to the edge of her sanity, and she never fully recovers. She spends a few years trying to thwart his plans or come up with an alternative, but she views it as a hopeless cause, and she leads a lonely existence in an empty Skyhold. In my Bloodied and Broken world state, she dies at this point. But in my DA4 world state, Kieran comes to her and pleads for her to help him find his mother, who bears the Well of Sorrows and has gone missing. Ixchel, now 26 or so, sets off with Kieran, now 21, to find the very farthest edge of Thedas—and what lies beyond it. (Assuming the Inquisitor does not make an appearance in DA4.)

Bloodied and Broken AU

As the world ends, Ixchel is resurrected under mysterious circumstances and is sent back in time to the Conclave. Ixchel is furious, convinced of her own futility, and yet she cannot give up again. These are the stories of how she gets better. Ixchel manages to sway Solas from the din'an'shiral and they continue their lives together. Canon-divergent after Here lies the Abyss. At the moment we're concerned with investigating the source of the Blight & cures, and figuring out how to deal with the (locked away for the moment) Evanuris, while racial tension between elves and humans in the south boils over.

One Wild & Precious Life AU

In an AU of the future of the Bloodied & Broken world state, Solas and Ixchel defeat the Evanuris, but the effort causes Solas to go into uthenera for perhaps hundreds of years. His last words to Ixchel are "live well." Ixchel goes to live in Kirkwall and becomes involved in politics of the Free Marches. Sebastian, Prince of Starkhaven and a widowed father of two, falls in love with her. Very chivalric and romantic.

Elvhenan AU | Arlathan AU

A resurrected Ixchel gets sent back not to the Conclave but to Elvhenan, with a fragmented memory. Dirthamen takes her in for interrogation/study, since she wears his vallaslin. As they learn about each other, they fall in love, and they both learn the extent of his family's evils. Ixchel becomes the Champion of Fen'Harel in order to be of a proper rank to court Dirthamen. Together, they help thwart the Evanuris and their tyranny. One of Mythal's former generals, Glory, was "gifted" to Andruil and has been turned into a demon as her main instrument of violence against Dirthamen, Solas, and Ixchel. Solas's closest lieutenant (and lover) is Hope (aka Felassan)

Blood Sealed Belief

Normally Ixchel meets the Hero of Ferelden in the wilderness, he tells her a pretty word and she decides that’s her name now–and then she runs away. She gets adopted by Clan Lavellan after a series of stowaways and other events, and then she goes to the Conclave. But what if Halevune Mahariel had adopted her that day? She'd be a whole different person. Mostly this AU is in its infancy but it's fun to explore how she'd be different.

[damallarky]

Ok. So I got my Rook’s backstory planned out guys.

His name is Renan. He’s a Mage and a traveling musician who busks in and around Minrathous. Rook is his stage name.

He is the brother of my canon Inquisitor, Aisling Lavellan. There are five siblings in total. Ren is the oldest, and Aisling is the middle child.

His surname isn’t Lavellan, though. Gotta see what the names are in DA:V.

More under the cut!

His father was a former circle mage and his mother was a Dalish hunter.

Morag, Ren’s father, was part of a team of four mages given special permission from their circle to study ancient elven ruins to “further enhance Chantry understanding of Thedas and its history.” Jokes on them because the four Templars that were assigned to babysit the group were all mage sympathizers (one was in a relationship with one of the mages in the group, one had a mage sister who he cared about deeply, the youngest Templar was a good friend of Morag's and the last one just didn't care lol) so they basically let him get married and have kids while he was still technically doing what he set out to do.

The family traveled a lot from ruin to ruin. At some point, the group is called back to return to the Circle, but everyone decides to lie and say Morag "died" so he can stay with his family.

The good times don't last, though. Eventually, word gets out that there is an apostate running around, and Templars are sent to bring Morag back. During the process, their parents are killed, and the kids get separated, with Ren being caught by slavers and sold to Tevinter and the rest of his siblings being adopted into Clan Lavellan.

(Consequently, the reason Aisling begged to go to the conclave was because she was hoping she’d find Ren there, not realizing he never made it to a circle.)

Ren spends four years as a slave. His master's wife notices that he has a lovely singing voice and a talent for music, so she teaches him how to play the lute, harp, harpsichord, flute, and anything else she wants him to. He enjoys it because he loves music, but he knows that he is basically being kept as a pet to show off when the mood strikes.

(This is also when he meets the spirit Hope, who ends up taking the form of a Rook. She is also the inspiration behind Ren's stage name.)

At seventeen, he had a clandestine affair with his master's daughter, who was the same age as him. I think they were friends, and they cared about each other, but their relationship was more about teenage lust and Ren's cockiness than anything else. There was also maybe a little bit of a power imbalance that Ren doesn't really consider until much, much later in life. When his master's wife finds out, she is furious and orders Ren whipped within an inch of his life. He probably would have died had the daughter not begged her father to intervene. Ren is sent off to work with the rest of the household slaves. The other slaves were delighted to learn that the golden boy wasn't so golden after all, and they made his life hell.

Nine months later, Ren is summoned by his master. He learns that he has gotten his master's daughter pregnant. On her request, Ren is given his freedom on the condition that he takes the child (a boy) and never speaks a word of it to anyone.

He accepts and leaves a free man. He names his son Morag, Mor for short, after his father.

Except now he's a kid with a kid, with no money and nowhere to go in a country that actively treats his people like chattel. He's scared, and as a result, he does many things he is not proud of, things that he ends up regretting later in life, like drinking heavily and not being as good of a father to Mor as he should have been.

To support himself and his son, Ren becomes a musician and plays at bars and brothels, wherever he can get work. While busking, he meets an elven woman named Leena. Their relationship is difficult at first, but eventually, Ren decides to get his shit together, and the two eventually fall in love.

They get married, and after a while, they have their daughter, Esana. At some point, they both join the Shadow Dragons. During a mission, Leena is badly wounded and later dies of an infection. This almost causes Ren to fall off the bandwagon and back into his addiction. He, through great effort, manages to stop himself for the sake of his children who need him. The withdrawals were horrible, and it was one of the hardest things he ever had to do, but he did it because he loves his kids so much, and he wants to be a good father to them.

This is why he only drinks water, juice, or wine occasionally.

He still works for the Shadow Dragons, and now his son is beginning to work for them, too, despite the fact that Ren would rather he not put himself in danger.

More Facts

Ren is either 36 or 38, depending on how long it's been since Inquisition.

That would make Mor either 19 or 21.

Whatever the case, Esana is 13.

Mor is a mage like both of his parents. He fights more like a rogue, however. Veil ranger perhaps?

Esana's magic hasn't awakened (yet) but recently she has been having nightmares of monsters wanting her to "let them in".

Ren is a Dreamer like his father! He finds the Fade slightly annoying.

Mor was originally going to be revealed later in my Rook's story, which is why he didn't show up in my Rook's prologue fic.

Ren uses humor so he doesn't have to think about his emotions. It drives Hope nuts.

Hope is the GOAT of the bunch. Mor probably wouldn't have survived to young adulthood had it not been for Hope.

Hope is still relatively new to the whole "not being an actual spirit" thing. Like Cole, she still feels fairly compelled to provide hope to those who need it. Except now, she also eats mice and steals shiny things.

Esana unfortunately inherited her father's lack of self-preservation.

Esana and Mor are close despite their age difference. Mor is the best big brother.

Ren and Solas are going to drive each other insane. Especially once it's revealed just who the Inquisitor is. Ren and Solas will eventually find they have a lot in common and will both help each other heal in the end.

Idk where it will go in the actual game, but for now, I'm deciding that Ren and Solas will become very dear to one another. Bestie-in-Laws.

The family sitcom is called My Brother-in-Law the Dread Wolf.

Ren is very jealous of Solas's Dread Wolf form. Solas delights in this fact.

I also do not know who Ren is going to romance. I have never struggled so hard to make that choice.

[shivunin]

For @greypetrel's prompt "Witch Hazel (a spell)" for Emmaera (thank you again, Arja c: ) (~750 words):

“I don’t know what to do with her,” Emma confessed, pressing her hand to her forehead. 

The two of them sat in her office, the ocean making music outside of the window, the books orderly as a regiment on the shelves. Vivienne regarded her for a moment, then tilted her head. She still wore her headdress, its sharp points catching the afternoon sun. 

“Darling,” she said, “you know quite well that being a mage does not preclude learning the arts of war. So she does not want to use a staff; very well. Present her with other options and allow the girl to choose. If it is her choice, she will feel that she has won and cease fighting you over her own nature. It is quite simple.”

“But—” Emma cut herself off, thinking. Her fingers tapped a rhythm against her temple and Vivienne waited patiently until she spoke again. “Alright. What do you have in mind?” 

Half an hour later, the three of them stood in the courtyard. Vivienne swung her spirit blade one last time, tucking it into her belt even as it faded from existence. Adhlea watched with wide eyes, her arms wrapped around herself. When Emma had told her daughter that Vivienne would be showing them a spell, the girl had slumped along behind her to the courtyard, clearly expecting another lesson she had little interest in. This display had surprised her. That much was very evident. 

Apprentices whispered to each other around the periphery, for the Grand Enchanter never gave lessons if she could help it. Adhlea, curls bound into a kerchief, regarded her with a touch of hero worship in her eyes.  Vivienne surveyed her in return. 

“Very well,” she said, and produced the hilt of a sword from her pocket. It was very small, sized for a child’s hands, and Adhlea’s eyes fixed on it at once. 

“Your mother tells me that you have experience with a wooden practice sword,” Vivienne went on, and raised an eyebrow when Adhlea would have answered. Adhlea pressed her mouth together and nodded once. “Very good. This is not a practice sword, little Lavellan. It is a real weapon. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Adhlea paused. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Now, what is the danger with a weapon?”

“I could hurt myself.”

“No,” Vivienne said, and the hilt gleamed in her hand, though she hadn’t called magic to it. “You could hurt others. Look at your mother.”

Adhlea did so, her little face solemn, and Emmaera looked back. 

“Your mother is one of the strongest mages I have ever met,” Vivienne told Adhlea. “If you threw fire at her, she could unmake it at once. She could draw up a barrier to shield you both if someone tried the same. You cannot hurt her; not now. But a sword cuts both ways. If you are not careful when you touch it, when you swing, you could hurt yourself, yes. But it will hurt you far worse, my dear, if you hurt someone else. Not everyone is a mage of your mother’s caliber. Your father, for example, would be badly hurt if you swung without care. Am I understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Adhlea said in a small voice. 

Emma pressed her lips together. She had been very, very careful to make sure that her daughter was not afraid of herself, nor the magic she held. In Lavellan’s opinion, shame and fear were half the reason human mages struggled so badly against demon possession. But Vivienne was right: if Adhlea was to learn this sort of magic, she needed to respect its dangers as much as she delighted in its possibilities. Cullen had told her much the same about teaching her to fight with a sword of steel. 

“I am going to hand you this now,” Vivienne said, still as composed and regal as if she were giving a speech to a queen, “if you drop it or use it before I tell you, you will not get it back.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Adhlea said, and pulled herself up into a posture resembling Vivienne’s. 

When Adhlea was allowed to call the blade into existence at last, Emma watched joy leap across her daughter’s face and knew that she had been right to bring this to her friend after all. Vivienne, the smallest of smiles curling at the corner of her mouth, caught Lavellan’s eyes and nodded. 

Present her with other options, Vivienne had said. How glad she was that this was an option at all.

[milesmentis]

From the Pride OC asks!

3) How did your oc discover themself? Did something cause them to question, or did they always know?

for ALL OF THEM (please? 😁)

*cracks knuckles* Okay ... let's do this!

Daren: answered here (everyone else is under the cut)

Gil: She was my late bloomer. Going back to the mention about Gil and demisexuality, she probably has the closest parallel to my own journey. When she was growing up, she definitely thought she was asexual because she had -100% interest in boys and 0 interest in girls. She has that intense Eldest Daughter Syndrome that most Hawkes tend to carry and that + her discomfort with male attention made it easier to just ignore anything that had to do with her own sexuality because it make her feel complicated messy things. She was an incredibly awkward and apologetic teenager, but when she's older (around 19/20) her feelings for other women started to really develop. She doesn't fully blossom though until she gets to Kirkwall, cuts off all her hair, and starts hanging out with a bunch of disaster bisexuals

Hallapan: She figured out she was a girl at a pretty young age (I'd say about 7 or 8), because I headcanon that's also when the gender roles in her clan would have started hitting. That's also about the same time that her magic manifested and I feel like those two things kind of run parallel in her mind ... the idea of suddenly becoming something else, something rare but a little strange. Clan Lavellan wasn't actually her birth clan, and when a few more mages manifested when she was a young teen, she was sent to them. It was a two edged sword - she was upset that she had to go, but also excited bc it meant that she could go train as a Keeper in another clan where they never knew her as a little boy. It was a fresh start and helped her anxiety about puberty and social transition a ton.

Magnus: Oh Maggie ... my dear angry macho bisexual. Out of all my characters he is the one who struggles the most with his internalized homophobia and toxic masculinity. I headcanon that the further north you go, the more rigid things like gender and sexuality tend to be. In his case, Magnus was from a small town in the free Marches with a very strict father who joined the army the second he had the chance and stayed there for over a decade. Those two things gave him a kind of skewed view of masculinity and male-attraction. He's honestly something of a frat boy, so his own feelings for other men were a thing he could explain away through, like, the rituals of male-bonding. Definitely a guy who would say, "Of course I've fucked dudes. I was in the army wasn't I?" Meanwhile, Daren and Donnie would be staring at him like "......... bro." It takes until he's about 30 to get really comfortable with his own queerness (he has such a huge crush on Cullen, it's insane) and honestly his friendship with Dorian is so healing. Just finally having another queer male friend to talk to, and one with such a different but equally repressive upbringing ... yeah ... I think they're real neat.

Brosca: The female Brosca origin is so goddamn Gender to me! Unlike the canon, Brosca is actually older than Rica (about 33) and experienced a ton on gendered violence, starting from their mother. She grew up under a constant tirade of "Everything would have been better if you were a boy, you useless failure" (her father was merchant class). After Rica's father leaves for the surface and their mother falls into depressive alcoholism, Brosca is the one who has to shoulder everything - she becomes the breadwinner the only way she can (breaking heads for Beraht) and does everything she can to protect Rica (usually by making herself the wall or the target). Orzammar being so aggressively heteronormative forces her to carve out a sexless space for herself in order to survive. She's not a woman like her sister (pretty, painted, artistic, kept) and she's not a man like Leske (desperate, letcherous, envious, possesive). She's a knife and if you touch her for ANY reason, you're going to get cut. Going to the surface changes her life in so many ways, but I think one of the most powerful is hearing gender-neutral Ser for the first time. She never truly unpacks her own feelings about sex and gender, because she doesn't have the reason or language to do so, but even though she continues to use she/her for the rest of her life as a convenience, she really grows to think of her own gender as Warden. And that finally feels right.

Eyas: Eyas is a very reserved and introspective person, so I feel like he figured out that he was both gay and aromantic in his mid-teens. It was always a kind of perfunctory thing: clans are very interconnected groups and as a result, I don't think things like nudity, sexual interest, or gender really ... matter as much? Because everything is so interpersonal. When he leaves the clan, however, he doesn't handle it very well. He becomes even more withdrawn, and the only person who he even slightly warms up to is Zevran. Unfortunately, Zev interprets this change in behavior as romantic interest, and when he offers sex to Eyas, he panics. It takes a long, complicated, and shockingly emotional (for him) conversation until he finally admits how badly he's hurting, how little he wants sex, and how afraid he is of losing the closest thing he has to a clan brother because he can't feel the same desire. Zevran is absolutely understanding and helps him talk through his feelings about sex and romance (generally) and specifically (pining for Alistair), and gives him reassurance that what he feels is natural and understandable. They become even closer after that - a literal lifeline for Eyas in many ways - with a tinge of that homoerotic non-tension that really good queer friends always have. His actual "awakening" doesn't happen until Awakening (if he makes it that far) ... the second he lays eyes on Nathaniel Howe.

Donnie: The only character I've ever made who Gets The Goddamn Therapy and Support They Deserve! Aside from the background radiation of "Mild Homophobia and Sexism That Permeates Military Life Even In The Future" he doesn't have any hangups about his sexual orientation. I think, like most bisexual nerds, his awakening was Star Wars (which might be two centuries old, but he will defend with his dying breath). Like Daren, he gets a kick out of people assuming he's straight but he's never shy about mentioning ex-boyfriends. He's primarily attracted to women and a lot of the bros-to-lovers arc he has with Kaidan revolves around them both talking about hot women over beer and then dropping a quick reference to hot men ... no homo tho ... haha ... unless.

[wardenthornes]

btw upon a review of the source text (200 page google doc I had for my gal Siobhan Lavellan from when I was obsessed with her in law school with thoughts on her character) I do think the reason she had a baby from her relationship with Solas after ill-advised pre-trespasser hookups is 1. She wanted to have a baby anyway. She was going to have one on her own after closing up shop on the inquisition 2. She actually did know she was pregnant in trespasser but that was a recent development 3. She was excited and ready for it, and didn’t mind if Solas didn’t want to be involved 4. She considers not going forward after the events of trespasser but ultimately decides that would be a punishment for her, not him. She decides not to let Solas stop her from pursuing happiness and living her life. It’s a hard choice for her, but she’s ultimately happy with it because her daughter is her best friend. She wouldn’t have endured without Nimue as her motivation and as a source of joy in her life.

Also, even though she goes into hiding in the Fade with Nimue for two decades trying to study/find a way to stop Solas while also hiding out from him, the reality is that she would’ve done that anyway. She’s his ex lover, it’s obvious he has a lingering obsession with her, and his army of spies (in the trespasser era and the years after, at least) plus his ability to enter her dreams scares her. Nimue is a comfort and companion to her between visits with friends and family, and Nimue’s lived all her life as the center of her mother’s attention. It’s not ideal, but it’s a life, and it’s a loving life for both of them.