#nylus lavellan

[pookamaluka]

Poor Lavellan

Why do I hurt myself with my own headcanons?

I can’t believe my brain decided my sweet, traumatized Nylus Lavellan was going to be hurt by the first woman he loved in such a way.

He built her a home and she dumped him! Then got together with his cousin. He built her a beautiful aravel to raise a family in. And she rejected him because she was never serious about him. 

I would’ve locked her in it and rolled it into the lake, but not him. He just nodded, told her goodbye and formed a band. Well he did hit his cousin with his bow first, but he had it coming for a million reasons. Nobody’s perfect.

[needlesslycryptic]

Nylus Lavellan  for @pookamaluka! TYSM for hiring me!

[pookamaluka]

Old doodle of my boy Nylus Lavellan, rogue archer (with some magic in him), Josephine’s boyfriend and ex-bard. 

[pookamaluka]

Through Her Eyes

Describe your OC through the eyes of someone absolutely head-over-heels in love with them Prompted by @lauraemoriarty

Fandom: Dragon Age Pairing: Inquisitor Nylus Lavellan/Josephine Montilyet WC: 1350

Josephine was not blind. She was in fact quite observant. She had to be. After all, her job as ambassador required it. She had to read people. Their faces, the tone of their voice, the way they dressed and presented themselves, how they moved, who they associated with, and many other vital details. These were things she had learned to focus on in order to do her job properly. So it was what she naturally did when the Inquisitor, back then only the Herald of Andraste, first joined their cause.

At first it was for necessity. But watching him quickly became her favorite part of the day. He seemed so mysterious then. He still was in some aspects if she was being honest. Back then he was also distant. Impersonal. She opened up to him about her family troubles and her worries about the people who worked tiredly for the Inquisition. After those conversations, little by little he warmed up to her. Josephine supposed that it took some effort for a Dalish raised elf to overcome his mistrust of human nobility. Once they found common ground, he was less guarded and more forthcoming. They spent many an afternoon talking about politics, a topic she now knew he detested, their childhood, Dalish culture and Orlesian cuisine. It had given her a chance to see him in a different light. To watch him as he spoke passionately about a topic he was invested in. 

It was during these talks that Josephine finally realized the man was a gorgeous work of art.

She had been afraid to admit it before. She was a professional after all. But now that their flirting had blossomed into something much more serious, she did not feel like she had to keep some scandalous secret. It would be hard to keep anyway, considering where she was at the moment.

Josephine stood in the courtyard, among the crowd that had gathered to watch the Inquisitor spar with another rogue in the practice ring. They both had practice daggers that they were currently using to try and land what would’ve been a fatal blow if the edges hadn’t been dulled. They circled each other, already panting with exertion after unsuccessfully trying to defeat their opponent. Chests rising and falling, covered in sweat, with bruises and scratches already forming on their skin. 

It was hard not to notice a nasty bruise on Nylus’s chest when Josephine had been staring at his open shirt for the past fifteen minutes. Before that, she had been looking at how well the material of his pants stretched as he moved to attack the other rogue. She had to send a letter to the tailor to praise their work. The fit was incredible. Well made garments were meant to be praised. Especially if they accentuated features that were already worthy of praise.

The clinking of metal caught her attention for a second and she looked up to see Nylus parrying a set of daggers going for his throat. His long hair was held back by a very inefficient length of string that had let locks of his dark chestnut hair escape and fly about his face and shoulders as he spinned and turned. Josephine sighed as she remembered how that hair had looked and felt as his head rested on the pillow next to hers. Such a dark, reddish brown that contrasted with her pearl sheets. And so soft and silky. She had ran her fingers through it and let it slide over her hands. It had blanketed them both when he kissed her, falling like a curtain as he framed her face with his hands. Josephine’s nipples had hardened into peaks as his hair gently brushed against her breasts. She couldn’t forget the groan he made when her wild hands pulled on it as she lost herself in his embrace.

The crowd cheered and Josephine looked at the ring again to see the Inquisitor crouching over his sparring partner on the ground, daggers at the other man’s throat. There was a beat of silence before Nylus chuckled and said,

“So, archers don’t know how to hold a dagger, huh?”

The man and the surrounding soldiers laughed. 

“I’ll get you next time, Lavellan.”

Nylus shook his head and stood. He offered his hand to the rogue and pulled him up. 

“That’s what you said last time, friend.”

The crowd laughed again and Captain Rylen pushed his way forward.

“Show’s over! Back to making yourselves useful, you sorry lot! Go now!” He faced the rogue. “Evan, if you’re done wasting the Inquisitor’s time, maybe now you could give your report to the Commander?”

Evan the rogue, rolled his eyes and followed the rest of the soldiers as they left.

Josephine stood still as the courtyard emptied. She watched Nylus as he placed his practice daggers back on a rack and then went to wash his hands in a barrel. She huffed. He hadn’t glanced her way yet. Then again, that had allowed her to enjoy the view earlier. Guess she could wait a little longer. Even if looking at his hands as he wiped dust and dirt from his sinewy forearms did test her resolve. When he repeated the same motion on his neck, she suspected he was not as unaware of her presence as she thought. 

She approached him and cleared her throat. “Afternoon, my lord.”

Nylus turned around. He was smirking.

“Hm? Oh! Lady Montilyet.” His lips were pressed together tight. But his eyes crinkled. “Does some dire situation require my attention? Are our noble guests comfortable? Do they need me to fluff their pillows?”

Josephine giggled. She picked up a washcloth that hung over the side of the barrel and used it to wipe Nylus’s cheeks.

“Not this time. They seem enchanted by Varric’s tales.”

Nylus snorted. 

“I’m afraid that like the others, I was unable to resist the show,” she said.

He looked down at her, his green eyes glinting.

“Did you enjoy the sparring?”

“Oh yes.” Josephine said as she rinsed the washcloth. “It was impressive. Seeing you in motion.”

Nylus laughed. “It’s not as if you haven’t seen me move before, Josephine.” 

He held her hand and stroked it with his thumb. 

“Hm. To be frank, the other times have been more about feeling you move rather than watching you.”

His eyes narrowed and he smiled, “Is that a complaint or…?”

Josephine laughed. She discarded the washcloth and set her hand on his chest.

“Not at all. It’s just nice to enjoy a different perspective.”

He put his arm around her waist. She noticed his eyes were dark now, his pupils larger, trying to obscure the glint of green she loved. 

“Care to enjoy another view?” 

She tilted her head, “What did you have in mind?”

Nylus started to walk toward the stairs to the fortress and pulled her along with him.

“I was thinking I need more than a wipe down after all that exertion. Think you could convince some maids to draw me a bath?”

“Do you doubt my abilities or my motivation?” 

Nylus laughed again. This time there was a husky undertone to his voice.

“Vhenan.” He raised her hand and kissed it. “No one could doubt your….motivation.”

She huffed and pushed him toward his quarters. He let her shoo him away, only looking back with a grin that teased her even more. Josephine shook her head. It served her right. She got the attention of one of the head maids and made her request,

“Dinia, would you be so kind as to arrange a warm bath be drawn for Inquisitor Lavellan?”

The older woman stood at attention and nodded. “Of course, my lady. Right away.”

“Thank you.” Josephine said.

She then headed toward the Inquisitor’s private quarters. Part of her job as Ambassador was being well informed. And her knowledge came from experiencing as many situations as possible, and learning from them. Watching Nylus Lavellan as he bathed was no different. It could even be called research. And Josephine Montilyet had always excelled in her studies. 

[pookamaluka]

I wish we could stay like this forever

“I wish we could stay like this forever” Prompted by @lauraemoriarty​

Fandom: Dragon Age Pairing: Inquisitor Nylus Lavellan/Josephine Montilyet WC: 623

The forest was never quiet. Not really. Not even at night. Owls, crickets and the odd fox made their presence known. Everything made a sound that together formed what you expected to hear as you walked among endless trees. What you wouldn’t expect to hear were the sounds of passion coming from a clearing near a rushing creek. Those were not the common sounds of the forest. Neither was the ragged breathing that followed as two new lovers held each other in the dark.

The Inquisitor and his lover laid in tangled limbs atop thick blankets and furs on the forest floor. It was dark. But moonlight and groups of fireflies reached the clearing and illuminated it enough for them to see. They panted in unison, trying to bring their hearts and breathing back to a normal rhythm. 

Nylus ran his fingers up and down Josephine’s arm. He kissed her forehead and she sighed and nestled closer to him. She kissed his jaw and he smiled.

“Are you cold?” Nylus asked.

Josephine laughed. “Quite the opposite at the moment, love.”

Nylus chuckled. “Good. Now you know to send for me whenever the nights get unbearably cold at Skyhold.”

Josephine smacked his chest. “Oh, you’re terrible!”

He scoffed. “That’s not what you said before.”

Josephine groaned and hid her face against his chest.

“You couldn’t possibly decipher what I said before. It was gibberish.”

“Very enthusiastic, very loud gibberish.” 

“No!” Josephine said. Then she whispered. “You don’t think the others heard, do you? Maker!”

He laughed. “I don’t know. We did scare off a few owls, I’m sure.”

“Nylus! I am serious. They’ll never look at me the same.”

He looked at her frown and noticed she was biting her lip. He lifted her chin with his finger so he could see her eyes.

“What are you afraid of, Josie?”

“Well...what if they think I’ve seduced you for nefarious reasons? Oh, Maker! Your mother is back there. What would she think?” 

“Honestly? She kind of helped me find things for our picnic earlier.”

Nylus gestured at the basket and discarded wine glasses near them. 

Josephine leaned on her arm. Her eyes were wide.

“Your mother...she approves of us?”

Nylus took advantage of her position and set his hand on her hip, absently caressing her skin.

“Hmm. My mother knew we were together the moment you arrived at camp. She’s happy for me. She’s glad I found someone special. Someone who loves me.” He looked away before adding,  “After everything.” His voice wavered. 

Josephine touched his cheek, guiding him back to look at her face.

“And I do love you. Very much.” she told him.

She kissed him. Their lips met only briefly before she laid her head on his chest. Nylus held her tight against him.

“I wish we could stay like this forever.” Josephine said.

She hummed as he ran his hands over the expanse of her back.

“One day we will.” he told her.

“I know. I have faith.”

He nodded. “In your Maker.”

She looked up at his eyes, which were brighter than usual in the dark.

“I have faith you’ll see us through this chaos.”

Nylus’s breath hitched. His heart beat a little faster.

“That is a lot to expect from just one man, Josephine.” 

He sighed. His grip on her hip tightened slightly.

Josephine shook her head. “It would if he were alone. But he is not. You are not, my love.”

Nylus pushed her hair back and kissed her again. A lingering kiss where they both trembled. Trying to say everything at once with the gesture.

“No. I suppose not.” Nylus said. “I do have ma vhenan with me.”

Josephine grinned. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

[pookamaluka]

What Remains

Characters: Nylus Lavellan, Cole, Josephine Montilyet Fandom: Dragon Age

Nylus walked the battlements aimlessly in the early morning. It was still chilly and he had forgotten to bring anything to cover himself. He only wore a light shirt and leggings. He didn’t even wear shoes or wrappings. But his hair fell loose. The long tresses protected his face and neck from the cold.

Not many people were about. He could see Dennet tending his hart, Trumpet, and some of the horses. A few servants were walking in the courtyard too.

He had left Josephine asleep in his quarters.

His mind raced with thoughts he couldn’t put into words yet.

Finding the first Inquisitor had made him question his own role as leader. Ameridan had been almost completely erased from history. Would that be his future as well? They shared many of the same traits. Ameridan had been elven and Dalish like him. He had been a mage too, like Nylus. Even if that particular piece of information was still obscured to most people. They both were called Inquisitor. Would that be his reward after so much sacrifice? After the sleepless nights and haunted dreams and crushing sense of responsibility? After giving up everything he had been before to save everyone? People who wouldn’t even remember if the past was any indication.

Dorian had told him nobody would thank him when it was over. Nylus had nodded and agreed. And yet….he hoped that his efforts would make the masses see his People in a new light. He thought he had been doing something so different. Proving that elves were more than servants or savages. But finding Inquisitor Ameridan and learning the truth crushed his resolve. If the Chantry had eliminated the first Inquisitor’s less...savory traits and even dismissed the role the elf called Shartan had in Andraste’s own tale, what hope did he have?

He had just stumbled into a ritual and caught a fucking magic ball.

Nylus swept his hair back and chuffed.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” He whispered.

“You do know.”

With his heart stuck in his throat he twisted around and saw Cole standing behind him, twirling his hands against one another and looking up at him.

“Cole! It’s too early for you to spook me like that.” He smiled and the boy smiled back.

“You do know. You know you’re supposed to lead, to protect, to guide, to help. You help, like I do. But not the same. Different. Better, bigger. Lots of people at the same time. I have to help them one by one. So many. It takes a long time.”

Nylus sighed, “Every little bit is significant, Cole. You help a great deal.”

“Thank you!” The boy smiled widely. “You shouldn’t worry. A face is not what matters. The action is what endures.”

“What was that?”

Cole climbed onto the stone parapets and balanced precariously before crouching.

“Is it worth it? He was me, I am him. Will I die forgotten? What if I fail too? What if nothing matters in the end?”

Nylus stared without blinking. His eyes watered a bit from the cold. So this is how it felt to be read by Compassion.

“I still don’t understand, Cole.”

The spirit boy looked at him from under the brim of his gigantic hat.

“You are like Ameridan but not. He isn’t you. You are you.”

“Cole…”

“That didn’t work. Let me try again.”

Nylus chuckled and waved his hand at him to go on.

“You are different. Your battles are other battles. But Ameridan didn’t fail. He wasn’t forgotten because what he did couldn’t be erased. The world is not like the Fade. Things here stay more easily. And Ameridan stayed. He stayed in the Island, in the Frostbacks. He stayed in the Circles and the Seekers and Templars, he stayed with the Dalish and with Drakkon.”

“How!? Nobody even knew he was from the People, that he was a mage, Cole!”

The boy leaned and watched him sideways, “What he was remained. His spirit and what he did changed the world. Without the first Inquisitor, how could we have the second? Two only comes after one. His presence moved people and his absence did too. He is still here!”

They were silent for a time, “You’re talking about marks, aren’t you? Tracks that remain even after what made them is long gone.”

Cole nodded, “You leave a mark just as you were marked. The big parts endure.”

“Hmm.”

The boy stepped down from the parapets and stood next to Nylus. Both stared into the courtyard watching people slowly joining the fray below.

“Oh!” Cole stiffened then sighed. “Thank the Maker. There he is. He seems fine. I hope he is. I wish he’d tell me what’s wrong. He doesn’t have to be strong alone. Such a stubborn, beautiful man.”

“Cole?” Nylus asked.

Cole moved aside and the Inquisitor saw what prompted his strange monologue. Josephine was standing on the other side of the battlements. She had a small smile on her face that Nylus returned immediately. Unlike him, Josephine had brought a scarf and on her feet were slippers.

Nylus placed a hand on Cole’s shoulder, “Thank you Cole. You helped.”

The spirit of Compassion grinned. “I am happy I did.”

Nylus started to walk past him but then Cole spoke again.

“She likes you. She could never forget you. It endures.”

The elf was startled and didn’t say anything as he watched the boy walk away and disappear, behind a door this time. Thank the Creators.

Josephine reached him and laid a hand on his chest.

“Good morning, my Lord. I worried when I couldn’t find you.”

Nylus frowned. “Josie.” He sighed and put her hand between his. “I’ve asked you not to call me that. At least not when we’re alone.”

She chuckled, “I’m sorry, my love. I forget sometimes.” Then kissed his cheek.

Nylus smiled and just looked at her face for a while. She fidgeted and became nervous.

“What?”

Nylus shook his head and drew his knuckles against her cheek in a caress.

“It’s okay Josephine. I know you remember what truly matters. And that’s enough for me, vhenan.”

He kissed her. Chaste and slow. But here was no mistaking the adoration in his green eyes.

She smiled and pulled his hand so he’d follow her back inside.

“Come. Let’s get you some shoes.”

Nylus laughed, “Not again!”

[pookamaluka]

Avvar Goat Glitch - Dragon Age Inquisition

[pookamaluka]

Things I want to draw but don’t feel I have the skills for (but should probably try to draw anyway):

1. Someone protecting their SO or friend from a throwing knife and getting it stuck in their back instead while shielding them.

2. Finish that Ionel Lavellan and Iron Bull hugging picture

3. Comics of my dog doing all the dumb shit he does (would have content for years here)

4. A collection of drawings of dog breeds

5. My pokemon trainer and her team! 

6. Draw my other elf, Nylus Lavellan in every pose imaginable being the handsome fucker he is.

7. Try my hand at portraits again. That Daniel Radcliffe I drew like 10 years ago wasn’t bad at all.

8. More landscape speedpaints. Those are relaxing.

9. My witch character Finn, doing magic or sewing little clothes for his pixie companion, Kiki. 

10. Kiki the pixie riding Crash the corgi. Cause why not?

11. Food. Drawing food is nice and inspiring. Sure, it makes me hungry but it’s good practice on colors and textures.

12. Crystals. Drawing magic crystals with all the colors. Shiny. Dull and broken. All the crystals.

13. Maybe I should try buildings again. I own a ruler. Or a few.

14. Draw cute butts and d*cks. Maybe b**bs too. They’re good to snap you out of artist’s block cause it’s simple shapes and not usually what I draw.

15. A motorcycle! That would be a challenge. I can already feel like I’m dying inside just thinking about it.

16. A set of different expressions for one of my characters.

17. Something sexy but not explicit. Like some lovers on a bed with the sun over their sleeping bodies. <3

18. An unicorn. If I show my kid cousin she’ll love it, even if its legs are wonky lol.

19. Scar from The Lion King. He’s one fancy, badass bitch.

20. A whale. Maybe an orca. I used to draw those all the time as a kid.

[pookamaluka]

Ask me stuff about my Wardens, Champions and Inquisitors! I’m bored.

Sylvia Cousland Farron Tabris Gwen Hawke Kaidan Hawke Selim Adaar Ulrich Trevelyan Nylus Lavellan

[pookamaluka]

OC in 5 GIFs - Inquisitor Nylus Lavellan

[pookamaluka]

Nylus Lavellan

This is the backstory of one of my elven inquisitors, Nylus. His life back in the Lavellan clan was not the best. 

Nylus Lavellan

Nylus was born to one of clan Lavellan’s natives, his father Orcha and a hunter brought over from a Fereldan clan, Mayra. His mother was an archer and taught him how to use a bow, how to track and spy and defend himself. His father was a hunter as well but with very little magical talent that barely manifested and was always kept hidden. Nylus inherited this latent magical talent but did not realize it until he was over a decade old. 

Nylus had a relatively easy early childhood for a Dalish boy considering his father’s popularity in the clan. But as he grew older he started to realize his parents didn’t get along. His mother purposely tried to keep him away from his father as often as she could. Her actions and coldness toward Orcha were noticed by the clan and hurt her reputation. Making it hard for her to form bonds with other clanmates since most of clan Lavellan favored Orcha. Her beliefs didn’t help either considering she was not devoted to the Elven Gods or shared the Dalish’s usual disdain of city elves. In fact many of her contacts and trade partners were elves from alienages or human nomads.

Over the years however, Orcha began acting strange. The mask he showed to the clan slipping more easily as it often did with his wife and son. He disappeared into the woods for weeks and came back with odd objects and wounds. People around camps began disappearing, forcing clan Lavellan to move around regularly to avoid confrontation. 

Nylus was never close to his father but a sudden interest expressed by the man made him grow afraid of him. This interest mainly revolved around his discovery of Nylus’s meager skill at magic. After this, Orcha kept Nylus at his side and took him on outings to the forest. Mayra’s protests were swiftly quieted with threats and violence. This continued for nearly two years where Orcha taught his son different hunting techniques, force fed him his devotion to the Old Elven Gods, how to steal and how to best kill bandits, where to hide valuable objects, bodies or hide from enemies. 

And he also taught him what little magic rituals he had learned from ancient elven ruins lost to time; ruins where the Evanuris sacrificed slaves for power if the murals and texts were to be believed. Orcha learned more Elvhen language than many other Dalish from that temple and he made sure Nylus learned as well. Most of the knowledge he acquired came from an intricate mirror large enough to be a massive doorway to another world. It was a memory bank of ancient magic. Intrigued, Nylus interacted with the mirror and discovered his father’s recorded memories detailing how he would kidnap people, usually women, from settlements and cities and even other clans they encountered. He would torture and kill them and then record the experience in the mirror as a way to preserve them. Nylus knew his father didn’t think like other people, that he was odd, that he was not a good man. But he never imagined the depths of his sickness. He returned to the clan’s camp and found his mother. He told her everything. When they went to the Keeper with the information she did not believe them. She asked for proof and refused to grant Mayra’s request to take her son away from the Lavellan clan without Orcha’s permission or enough proof to condemn him. She did grant them leave to search for proof and sent a young hunter from the clan with Mayra. Nylus was forced to stay behind and could only provide directions. 

Mayra and the hunter found the ruined temple and the mirror but were discovered and captured by Orcha. He killed the hunter with Mayra’s knife and stabbed Mayra’s side, all to stage a battle between the two women. He let them there, bound, waiting for his wife to succumb to her wound. He was going to claim Mayra attempted to kill him so she could take Nylus and leave with a secret flat-eared lover. 

But Nylus had entered the forest, impatient for his mother’s return. He found the ruins and snuck inside only to find the bloody scene. He thought his mother dead. In his rage he damaged the mirror, creating a large crack that stole its eerie light and darkened its surface. His mother recovered consciousness at the sound. When he touched her face she told him of what had transpired and urged him to run. He didn’t want to leave her. But he couldn’t carry her all the way to camp by himself. Especially if his father was out there. 

He left to look for help. But soon encountered his father. Orcha was disappointed. He expected his son’s loyalty after sharing his knowledge with him. He denounced Nylus as his son and promised him that not even a whisper would leave his lips. Nylus ran and Orcha chased. The forest became a labyrinth as the young elf tried to escape his father. His skin was graced with arrows and marred by the vegetation scratching him. He didn’t stop running until he was exhausted. Early morning saw him a couple miles away from camp with the older elf on his heels. Orcha loved to chase his prey and this situation was no different. 

Nylus called for help, he tried to run but kept falling. He saw his father draw his bow again. A strange blue, crackling light forming around his arrow. Nylus sobbed and screamed. The sound cut short by the arrow hitting his back. A second after the impact he felt a million tiny shocks on his skin. It hurt. His back was burning. He couldn’t utter a sound, his jaw was locked in pain. He heard Orcha’s steps getting closer. He tried to crawl away, tears streamed down his cheeks. He was rolled over and he stared at his father’s face. He expected to see anger there. Hatred perhaps. But what he saw was worse. The man was calm. As if shedding the blood of his own son was nothing of importance. 

“I could’ve taught you so much more Nylus. I trusted you. I thought you and I were the same. I hoped… well, no matter now. I’ll start over.”

Orcha unsheathed a knife and poised to strike.

“I’m sorry.” Nylus whimpered.

“It’s not your fault. Your mother’s blood is simply too strong.”

“You’re damn fucking right!” Mayra said. 

She knelt a few feet away in front of the two elves. Orcha snapped his head up at the sound of her voice. He froze for a second when he saw her drawing her bow. Nylus tried to look back but before he could, his father dropped him, pulled an arm back and threw his knife.

The knife twisted in the air toward Mayra but it was too late. Her arrow was already leaving her bow the moment he tossed it. She had always been a great shot. It found its target easily. The tip buried itself in Orcha’s neck seconds before his knife pierced Mayra’s thigh. She yelped and fell to the side. Orcha’s eyes widened and he fell to his knees for a couple seconds before falling back to the ground, gurgling and choking on his own blood. He died quickly.

Nylus scrambled away from him and toward his mother despite the tremendous pain on his back. They were still alive and he could barely believe it. Mayra’s wounds were great and they still bled but she held on to her son in desperation. Noticing the arrow poking from his back she told him to brace himself before snapping it in half. Nylus groaned and nearly blacked out in pain but concern for his mother kept him conscious. He helped her stand and together they supported each other on their way to camp. They yelled for help as they closed in and their clan mates heard.

Once they were being tended to Mayra fainted. The amount of blood she lost was too great. When Nylus spotted the Keeper he pinned her with a glare.

“I was telling the truth.” He told her.

She nodded and ordered a healer to tend to his back.

Those terrible hours became a dark cloud over Clan Lavellan and young Nylus. His Keeper believed his words. But the others, those who Orcha had convinced of his virtue were quick to paint his mother and him murderers. And with the mirror destroyed, there was no solid proof to confirm his father’s monstrosities.