#oc; Mihren

[mayonayys]

Hi! The World and The Devil for the romance Tarot game!

The World: Thedas is saved, but changed. Where do Rook and their love interest go from here? Is marriage on the table? Children? What milestones do they have to look forward to?

I don't think children would cross Mihren and Davrin's minds any time soon. They'd have their hands full with Assan. Mihren would be spending a lot of time building back up her relationships with her family and finding her place in Minrathous again, Davrin would be doing similar. Eventually, the two of them would want to settle down—as much as either of their lifestyles would allow. Biological children wouldn’t be out of the question, but with Mihren’s line of work with the Shadow Dragons, it’s more likely that the two of them would essentially have a child fall into their lap.

The Devil: This is not a fun card to pull in a romance reading, especially not for Valentine’s Day. Instead, share a song that makes you think of your Rook and their partner.

I listen to a lot of just shitty music so this is always a difficult prompt for me 😂 but after some careful listening to some of the sappier songs in my playlists I’ve settled onto We’ll Never Have Sex by Leith Ross.

Mihren has had a difficult time with relationships in the past—being used and discarded seemed the norm. But Davrin has shown her that that’s not how it has to be, that she’s deserving of being loved.

Links Below!

Mihren Masterpost

Ask Game

[mayonayys]

Ryatha Aldwir knew her parents well, but with their clan being much more communal than the average, she had many people she looked up to and considered parental figures. It wasn't until Ryatha was a teen that she began to connect with her birth parents more than the other adults that had a hand in raising her. There were tensions among many clan members, regarding the tears in the veil, and how they would handle it. Many clan members wanted to become even more secluded, pushing Ryatha's birth parents to try and form a better connection with her, as it seemed that some sort of split might occur amongst their clan.

When the divide finally occurred, Ryatha's mother had changed up her stance, choosing instead to want to play a part in healing the chaos the world was going through. Ryatha's choice felt too easy, causing her an immeasurable amount of grief. She wanted to be a part of the change; spurred on by her teenage sense of adventure, and the deep bond she had formed with her mother, she chose to leave the clan.

Eventually, she and her mother joined up with the Veil Jumpers, with whom her mother met her untimely demise. For Ryatha, it felt more like losing a best friend than it did a parent. At that point, she had not connected with her father again after leaving the clan, but did her best to get the news of her mothers' death back to their people.

At some point post-veilguard, I think Ryatha would seek out her father, especially after learning she had a sister. She'd introduce him to some members of the Veilguard, but knowing how adverse the clan was to outsiders when she left, Bellara and Davrin would likely be the only people she introduced to them for a while. With encouragement from those two, and her sister, she would eventually introduce her father to Lucanis.

Ryatha's mother was immensely proud of her little mage, and would be even more so knowing the direct hand she had in saving the world. Her father would be contentious at first, but eventually realize that what she'd accomplished was something to be proud of and show it in the best way he could. Her many other former parental figures in the clan would feel much the same way.

I've actually explored this subject with Mihren before 👉👈 Coming Home - AO3 - Rated G - No Warnings

Mihren Mercar (my not-actually-rook-Rook) was adopted as an infant by a pair of Tevinter soldiers, Alcaeus and Philomena. She was raised as their own, never made to feel othered by her parents. Her mother retired from the military to be at home and raise the children—which included a brother a few years younger than herself. Mihren was very much a daddy's girl, she was her father's pride and joy, and she was certain to follow in his footsteps. His usually strict and stoic demeanor was easily pushed aside so he could be a doting father to her, with her mother having to take on the role of strict parent for most of her life.

As Mihren grew, so did her curiosity of elves and the dalish, which ended up putting a lot of stress on her relationship with her parents. Mihren was pushed to join the military, but becoming a dog of the same Imperium that had oppressed her birth people for centuries didn't sit right with her. She'd made connections in Minratious while in pursuit of knowledge about dalish clans, and with their persuasion, she defected from the military and abandoned her family in the process.

She avoided her family for a long 8 years, joining the Shadow Dragons in that time, something which she knew would boil her parents blood. But when all but forced out of their ranks for a short while, she found herself back at her parents' door. Their relationship was understandably rocky, Mihren never was able to truly be herself with her parents after she left, and had to go back to using the human name they had given her when in their presence. They built something of a loving relationship again over the years, earning something akin to pride from them post-veilguard.

She eventually discovered her birth parents as well, after meeting her sister. And while she was too late to meet her birth mother, Mihren was able to meet her birth father and form a friendship with him. Her introduction to him was likely one of the key things that helped repair his relationship with Ryatha as well.

Mihren would have been very hesitant to introduce Davrin to her parents, but with encouragement from her brother (who she was happy to introduce him to), they finally made introductions. The Grey Warden was met with open arms by her parents—his background bolstering his image in their eyes. Her father was also all too happy to discuss the prospect of using griffons in battle with Davrin, though those conversations didn't always end politely—nonetheless, he kept bringing up the topic.

Davrin was easy to introduce to her birth father, him eventually being introduced to Uncle Eldrin as well.

Heeey Howdy! 🤠 Happy Friday!

How it works: I ask you a question about your Rook(s) and you answer it with as much brevity or verbosity as you desire. You can do this whenever you want, and I’ll reblog it + add some comments! There’s no time limit— if you want to do the older ones, they are collected here! (The post is updated on Fridays!)

1/24/25– I schedule the RIH posts out one per hour between 8:30 am - 10:30 pm MST. I already have posts scheduled out for most of the day today, so your rbs will be a bit delayed! Thank you for your patience !

Today’s Question(s): Does your Rook have parents? If not, surrogate parental figures/mentors? Do they like them? Do they resent them? Are Rook’s parental figures proud of them? Do they talk to them regularly? Have or will they meet your Rook’s LI or the other members of the Veilguard?

Answer as much or as little as you like! Have fun?

[championofthefade]

Welcome to DADWC! Can I get Mihren Lavellan/Dorian "Swear it to me."? :>

Thank you and Happy Friday! | @dadrunkwriting

Oh, this one was really fun. A little pre-relationship for them.

Words: 388

Pairing: Mihren Lavellan x Dorian

“You two are going to be the death of me, I swear.” Dorian shook his head, following the Lavellans forward as they finally decided to make camp for the night. 

“What? Still not liking the outdoors, Dorian?” Mihren threw a teasing smirk over his shoulder, “I thought you’d be used to this by now.”

“Ah, yes. Let me be fond of being dragged around into the middle of nowhere with no more than the clothes on my back while wandering aimlessly looking for absolute shit.”

“Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.”

“Had there been a bed.” 

“You two are up to something.” Dorian squinted at the elves, chattering amongst themselves. “I know it.”

“Yes, we are currently plotting your demise as we speak.” Mihren shook his head, waving Dorian off. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Actively worrying about it now.” 

“Relax. It’s nothing that we can’t handle.” 

“Iron Bull is meant to meet us around here, roughly.” Eirlin had pointed at the map of the Exalted Plains, “Said there was a dragon’s nest.”

“You’re… What?”

“Dragon hunting.” 

“And you’ve brought me along?”

Mihren shrugged off his bow and quiver, tucking them away near the tents. “Bull and Blackwall are going to meet us, I’d imagine Solas as well.”

“You’re changing the subject.” 

“No.. We’re still talking about dragons.” Mihren shook his head, tapping the map from over Eirlin’s shoulder. “If we’re lucky, we’d be able to cover a lot of ground in the morning. Shouldn’t be later than midday when we reach the rendezvous.” 

“A word?” Dorian casted a look at Mihren, tilting his head towards the other end of the camp. 

Mihren followed, nothing short of a smug look on his face. “Yes?”

“Are you certain that this is a wise idea? Considering… Everything.”

“What do you mean?”

“You are not making this easy, Lavellan.”

“I assure you, Pavus, I have no clue what you mean.”

“Just… Swear that you’re going to be careful, alright?”

“Dorian—”

“Just swear it to me.”

They stared at each other, the firelight dancing across their features. Mihren bowed his head slightly, a surrender. “I swear to you that I’ll be as careful as possible.” 

Though it was a little lie, Dorian’s shoulders finally relaxed. As careful as one could be around a dragon, he could imagine.

[florallychaotic]

Oh I just fully spent 2 hours in the veilguard character creator FINALLY nailing down my inquisitor and taking pictures of all my sliders. I am embarrassed to admit that did not feel like two hours lmfaoooo

Anyways.....here's mihren lavellan ten years on in veilguard....

[scharoux]

Mihren Lavellan

A Birthday gift for one of my dearest friends, @velannas 💛 Hope your day is as wonderful as you are Taz!

[vaniccio]

4.22.20

[thenugking]

Mihren Ghilain (Warden | Mage | she/her) - Dalish mage kidnapped by templars and forcibly assimilated is perhaps slightly bitter about it

[waterdeeps]

a graveyard of stars

elera lavellan is forced to face an enemy while unprepared and finds comfort from an unlikely source in the aftermath. post trespasser.

(for clarification not that anyone truly cares, mihren is an ancient elf, previously the champion for elgar’nan, grievously injured in the aftermath of the gods being sealed away and has been in uthenera until recently awoken by inquisitor lavellan)

elera x solas, elera & mihren (oc) | T | 2k 

Miles of untouched snow surrounded her at all sides. A blinding, disorienting white as far as her eyes could see. There was nothing else. No light to guide her way, no warmth to keep that chill from seeping into her very bones. She was lost, doomed. At least she had given them time, had gotten them to safety. If this was to be her end, then so be it. Perhaps all the lives she had saved this night would somehow balance the scales against all the lives she had taken from this world.

She readied herself for death as the chill seemed to press in even closer, ice so cold that it burned, moving in a lovers caress over her skin. It was sapping her of energy, dragging her heavy lids closed.

A quick death. She’d simply slip into a sleep she’d never wake up from.

It was easy to mistake the low, mourning howl as wind, at first. But then— a growl, so loud it felt as though it shook the mountain peaks surrounding her. It was close. So, so close.

She wouldn’t, couldn’t open her eyes. Not even as she felt the magic that poured off it in waves reaching out to her. Probing. No, pleading. Begging her to open her eyes and look upon it.

She shuddered, forced her frozen hands to raise and press over her traitorous eyes. If she looked, she lost. It whined, and the sound was so full of sorrow, she thought her heart would split apart. Something—furry, soft—brushed against her bare hands. Another sort plea.

No. A trick, a lie.

Deceiver, some hidden, furious part of her mind whisper.

She hadn’t spoke the words out loud but the thing left out another growl. It had heard, somehow it had heard.

The magic. The whines and touches had been a rouse. One to distract her long enough for it to send faints wisps of magic brushing gently against her mind. No, no. No. Inside. It was inside. The twining vines she usually kept sealed around her mind were gone. Withered away by the freezing cold and her slowly sapping strength. It had chosen this place for a reason. It had known that it haunted her, chipped away every barrier she had until she was left shaking and terrified.

The tendrils of magic took form. Long, fearsome claws gently pulled away the last few vines that remained. She couldn’t move, couldn’t tell if the ice had frozen her in place or if it had been the fear.

Please, she begged, and reached out with some soft, unmarred part of herself to press against those claws. Not this. Not this. This isn’t you.

The claws moved and— oh. She could feel him, as though her hand was pressed to his own, cupping the curve of his jaw, resting over the strong beat of his heart. All the sensations poured into her at once. His own hands skimmed the length of her arms, held momentarily against her waist before moving to gently hold her face between his palms.

I am sorry, his voice cleaved her heart clean in two, full of sorrow for the violence he had yet to commit. He would not pull back, would not walk away from this without the answers he had come to get.

She pressed herself into the familiar warmth of his hands. Allowed herself a moment to enjoy this small kernel of what they had once had, and then, when he was most at ease, when he was distracted by his own useless guilt, she struck out with that furious part of her mind that had forged itself into a dagger of fine dwarven steel, and sunk it into the part of him that had reached out.

He ripped away from her at the attack and let out a furious roar. The dagger would not follow him out of her mind so she turned it inwards instead. She could not afford to hesitate, could not worry about consequences.

Her eyes snapped open as she dug the dagger into her mind, long enough for her to see the snarling, dark maw of the Dread Wolf as he prepared to pounce.

Searing pain forced her eyes shut again as she shoved the dagger down, this time to the hilt.

She didn’t jerk into consciousness. It returned to her between one heartbeat and the next. Her eyelids fluttered, still heavy with sleep as they took in the space before her. Same fire, though the flames burned lower. Same cave walls, though their edges danced differently in the light of the fire.

She was still sitting upright, though she had listed slightly to the right in her sleep. Her head was resting on something warm and firm. She blinked again, syrupy slow, content to give back in to her tiredness.

Her headrest shifted, letting a slight breeze in to tickle against her neck. Her blood turned to ice in her veins as her dream came rushing back to her. She was on her feet, bow in hand, before her brain had made the conscious effort to do so. Her hands did not falter as she notched an arrow and aimed it towards the cave’s empty entrance.

He was here. He had found her because she had forgotten. Allowed herself to be lulled to sleep before setting the runes that kept him away. Stupid, foolish girl. Weeks of planning would crumble to dust if he slipped into her mind for even a second.

Leather armour blocked her view of the mouth of the cave. No blades were sheathed in the bandolier strapped across the chest, and hands were held out in a placating gesture. As though the owner of them knew they were dealing with someone dangerous. Or terrified.

“Elera,” the voice was gentle, and her eyes flashed upwards at the sound of it.

The man before her was devastatingly handsome. His golden brown skin shone in the light from the fire. A few strands of shoulder length black hair had come loose from the leather he tied it back with to gently framed his face. It was his eyes, however, that had her lowering her bow. They were a disarming shade of silver, more often than not looking like the sharpened edge of a blade, but now, looking at her— they softened, gentle rings of shimmering starlight. He had never looked at her like that before.

He dared a step closer. “You are in a cave in the Vinmark Mountains. You fell asleep reading your book. I have been keeping watch this whole time. No one has come within a hundred miles of this place, Elera. I swear it.”

He was trying to centre her. Like he knew half of her was still stuck in that dream, that horrible, cold place. Another step closer and his hand extended before him just a little. An offer she could easily accept or refuse.

Elera, he had said. Her name was Elera. And Mihren. It was Mihren that stood before her, his hand held out, bare of any gloves. All his scars brought into sharp relief in the firelight. His hand tensed but didn’t falter as her gaze dropped to examine it. The thought of what this little act of kindness took from him made her knees give out underneath her.

He moved faster than her eyes could comprehend. A strong arm looped around her waist before she could hit the ground and pulled her body to his. Her head tipped forward to rest against his armoured chest. Creators, he was so warm.

“In my dreams, he. He—” She could barely speak past the chattering of her teeth. It was like the cold had followed her out. “I never set the wards before falling asleep. He brought me somewhere he knew would,” make me afraid and unaware, “would throw me off. I didn’t realise he was there until it was too late.”

The arms surrounding her tensed. “Did he—”

Elera shuddered and thought of that sharp dagger she had wielded. “No. I stopped him before he could dig his claws in.”

Something in her voice, maybe, had given away the truth in her choice of words.

Mihren’s voice was the edge of a blade. “Claws?”

A lump caught in her throat. That place he had brought her. That icy mountain range had haunted her dreams for weeks. He had known that, had allowed her to find comfort at his side when the dreams were too bad to let her fall back to sleep. He knew how deep it would cut her. They were on opposite sides of a war now, but still, she had not expected such a personal attack. She hadn’t expected him to pray on her fears, on things she had told him in moments of vulnerability.

The stupid expectations of a stupid, lonely girl.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said, as she forced herself to pull away from Mihren’s warmth.

He didn’t say anything as she moved to sit herself before the fire, but she could feel his eyes on her. Assessing her. She paid him no heed and set about stoking the slowly dying fire to life.

Two moments passed in silence before he moved across to where he had left his pack and grabbed the black, heavy cloak he had discarded hours earlier. The cave was small and Mihren barely had to take a step before he was close enough to drop his cloak into her lap.

Her eyes flashed up to him, but he had already turned back to his bedroll on the other side of the fire. “Your teeth are chattering. You need to warm up.”

Another gesture of kindness. Not something she had expected from Elgar’nan’s fearsome champion. Or the man who only weeks ago had held a blade to her throat and asked why he shouldn’t kill her where she stood.

Elera didn’t speak as she watched him settle into his bedroll. He only removed his bandolier, which he set within arms reach. His greatsword also laid propped against the wall near his head. He settled, fully armoured, hands behind his head, and allowed his eyes to flutter closed.

She watched as he slowly slid into sleep.

His cloak was a heavy weight around her shoulders that slowly leeched the cold chill out of her bones. His scent lingered on it, filling the air around her. Spicy and warm. Like sunlight catching your skin through the gaps in the trees above. Like the bustle of an Antivan marketplace in the middle of the morning. Like good memories. Like the opposite of that terrible icy place she had been.

Another act of kindness, as unintentional as this one had been, and Elera hadn’t even given him a single thanks.

He had shifted at some point, now laying on his side.

He was softer in sleep. His full lips slackened, the sharpness that usually carved out his features was absent. He was beautiful, a reflection of the gentler side of the god he served.

“Thank you.”

His eyes slit open, twin pools of starlight gazing at her across the flames. “Ir abelas, da’mi.”

His voice was quiet, rough with sleep. It barely carried over the crackle of the fire. Da’mi. She did not know that one. Her understanding of the language was still too fractured.

She cleared her voice against that question. “Why are you sorry?”

He just kept staring at her. Elera wondered what it was that he saw looking back, what made his eyes soften like that.

“I know what it is like to stand on the opposite side of a war from someone you love.”

She had never told him what Solas had been to her, what they had together, but she had never been a good liar. Like an open book, her father used to say, if you knew where to look.  

Mihren, it seemed, had learned where to look.

The words spilled from her in a rush. “If it comes to it, I will kill him. If he forces my hand. If that’s what it takes to save this world.”

Mihren just looked and looked, through slitted star-bright eyes, searching for the lie that wasn’t there.

“Ir abelas, da’mi.”

He didn’t say another word as she ducked her head down to press hard against her knees. She pulled his cloak up to block out the light and crackle off the fire, and the steady sound of his breathing.

A sob was clawing its way up her throat and tears had already wet her eyes. There was no holding back. For the first time since she had faced Solas on that battlefield, Elera allowed herself to cry.

[saphylee]

Get Into My OC

Thank you @lavellanlove for the tag! Sorry it took me so long to get to this! (Like at least a year. Probably two at this point.)  She requested the wonderful Tamralan Lavellan. I won’t tag anyone specifically, but if you decided to do it, please tag me so I can see!

Tamralan

NAME: Tamralan Lavellan AGE: 40 as of 9:41 Dragon GENDER: Male ORIENTATION: Straight PROFESSION: Master of Clan Lavellan, Smithing BACKGROUND: Tamralan was born the only child of Lynmyath and Mihren Lavellan. He was their miracle child, as Lynmyath was thought to be barren for years. Mihren died of an illness when Tamralan was six years old which left Lynmyath overcome with grief. Keeper Istimaethoriel, Deshanna’s mother, took over raising him.

Tamralan was a very rebellious child. He acted on whim, getting into mischief often with his childhood friend, Nesianni. When she was 17, he 18, she became pregnant with their first child, Sylathi, and later bonded after she gave birth and received her vallaslin. Having a child forced them to grow up some, but as young parents do, relied heavily on the hahren to raise their daughter.

When Sylathi was 8 years old, a group of rebel Templars attacked the clan based on rumors that they were hiding blood mages. Nesianni, pregnant with their second child, was murdered and many others were killed that day. Tamralan almost lost his own life bleeding out from numerous deep cuts on his body. He almost repeated a cycle his mother started by drowning in his grief, but a much needed talk from Lynmyath, was able to break it and be there for Sylathi, who was grieving as well.

To this day, he is the Master of the clan and oversees day to day running of the clan and organizes the clan trades with neighboring cities. He tends to take the underdogs of the clan under his wing and be there for them as someone should have been for him.

PHYSICAL

BODY TYPE: Lean EYES: Dark Brown HAIR: Black, straight SKIN: Olive HEIGHT: 5′6 WEIGHT: 157 lb

SKILLS (S.P.E.C.I.A.L + M)

STRENGTH: 7/10; He’s a very busy man in the clan and does a little bit of everything to help out.

PERCEPTION: 8/10; After the near decimation of his clan from a Templar attack, he’s constantly vigilant over potential threats. And as a leader of the clan, it’s part of his job to be aware of what’s going on.

ENDURANCE:  9/10; He didn’t have the best upbringing. His father died when he was six years old. His mother all but abandoned him out of her own grief. He did what he want, when he want, consequences be damned. He lost his bondmate and clanmates in a massacre brought on by the templars and almost died from it. He’s experienced more than plenty to make him cynical, but he persevered and pushed himself to be a better man and a better father.

CHARISMA:  6/10; He knows how to choose the right words to say, but he’s not one to schmooze or use overly flowery or flattering language. He says what he means and means what he says, for the most part.

INTELLIGENCE: 6/10; He knows the basics of bookkeeping for the clan’s trading transactions. He knows how to keep a clan running, when to hunt, when to gather, when to make repairs or replace entirely. He has basic reading and writing skills. He knows how to kill effectively with and without poisons, and what to say to fish for information. He’s not as familiar with higher studies such as math, science, language, and most history.

AGILITY: 8/10; He’s small, quick, and light on his feet. Once he has a target, he doesn’t let anything stop him.

LUCK: 5/10; For all the bad that has happened to him, a lot of good has happened, too. He doesn’t believe in luck and that life is just as random as it can be predictable.

MAGIC: 1/10; There might be magic in his bloodline due to the nature of being an elf, but neither parents’ have had mages in their lineages for ages.

LIKES

COLORS: Muted earthy tones, like browns, greens, oranges, and reds. He also love the blue of his late bondmate and his daughter’s eyes.

SMELLS: Woodsmoke, the air before it rains, sun-warmed grass, freshly cut wood, honey, sage

FOOD: august ram, root vegetables, halla cheese, 

FRUITS: apples, oranges, bananas 

DRINKS: tea, water with lemon

ALCOHOLIC DRINKS: He appreciates a good wine or mead occasionally, but generally stays away from alcohol. He had a bout of binge drinking after his bondmate died and doesn’t want to relapse. 

OTHER

SMOKE: Not much of a smoker but has partaken in smoking tobacco as a teenager.

DRUGS: Elfroot and royal elfroot, smoked or chewed.

DRIVER’S LICENSE?: In a modern AU, yes, he has a driver’s license. Until he moved to Wycome, then later, Starkhaven, he lived in the country and needed a car to work. He loves long trips and insists on driving over taking a plane.

[nykoswrites]

da ocs

origins

guinevere cousland, nathra surana, saeris surana, thalia cousland, casimir amell, fennas mahariel

ii

adair hawke, odessa hawke, edgar hawke, samuel hawke

inquisition

athera lavellan, hae’ra/mylaela lavellan, mafalda lavellan, enfenim lavellan, linnae lavellan, diana trevelyan, anna trevelyan, elise trevelyan, asala adaar, olenda cadash, lori (a cook at haven/skyhold), rasa (spirit of purpose), ylva magnhilddotten (avvar)

dinan lavellan, mana lavellan, harel lavellan, mihren lavellan, daniel trevelyan, james trevelyan, oliver trevelyan, katari adaar, maraas adaar, varrow cadash

[mayonayys]

A Single Thread

Chapter 1

Tags: Shadow Dragon Rook, Original Characters, Eventual Romance, Pre-Canon, Pre-Veilguard Rating: T Words: 1,726 Summary: A glimpse into Mihren's life before she left her old identity behind—before the Shadow Dragons, before she even really knew who she was. Miriam Mercar couldn't stay one more moment as a dog of the Imperium. It hurt too much to see people like herself be shoved to the bottom while she got to live in comfort. Every step she took in the path her father drew out for her shortened her leash—tightened her collar, deprived her of air. With nothing but the clothes on her back, she fled. In Dock Town she wandered, life feeling more and more meaningless with every step she took, until finally a hand was extended and there she saw a thread of salvation.

AO3 Link

The streets of Dock Town weren't unfamiliar, but they were never somewhere that Miriam Mercar had ventured without her father's broad back to follow or her brother's playful jabs at her side. The poverty was palpable here, making the humble street she grew up on seem much more luxurious than it ought to have. Every movement she caught out of the corner of her eye made her jump, and her heart wouldn't cease its useless hammering in her chest.

The ground underfoot was soft, the air hot and heavy, and the clamoring that rose from the stalls and drifted up from the docks was too much. Everything here was too much.

"Miss, spare a coin?" A hoarse voice called out.

She ignored it, content to keep her hood drawn, her eyes forward as she trekked forwards.

"For my daughter, Miss, please." Something caught at the edge of her cloak, tugging and pulling the fabric taught.

Miriam sucked in a deep breath, hands balling into the fabric of her cloak as she tugged it from the beggar's hands.

Their grip didn't relent and the struggle caused her hood to slip from her head.

Miriam quickly grabbed at her hood, but with her peripherals clear of the fabric, she couldn't block out the sight of the beggar woman next to her.

Both of her hands were stretched out, wide, forest green eyes locked onto Miriam's face, pleading for her help.

Miriam tugged at her cloak again, willing herself to not meet the woman's eyes, but when the grip on the fabric did not cease, she whirled around.

That was when she spotted the child, grubby hands clutching the edge of her cloak so tightly, like her life depended on it—the daughter, if those identical green eyes were any indicator.

Miriam ceased her fight for her cloak, gaze caught by the little girls and her unspoken plea.

The beggar woman took her opportunity, reaching forward, dirty, calloused hands grabbing gently at her own clean and well manicured ones. Her voice was hoarse, "Please, Miss, I haven't had a bite to eat in days—my daughter, she gets every scrap we can manage—but it's not enough."

The woman's hands shook, her grip unsteady—Miriam could have easily broken her hold on her, but there was something in the woman's eyes that transfixed her where she stood.

Her pain and hunger. Her fear. Her desperation.

But at the edge, something else. A glimmer of hope, which only seemed to grow the longer Miriam held her gaze.

That was when Miriam noticed her face—pale and bruised, but with thin brown lines marked across her skin.

Then she noticed her ears, sloped to a point, breaking through the lines of her greasy hair.

And she realized why the woman's eyes held hope—she was like them, and elf in these cursed Tevinter lands. And unlike them, she was not dressed in rags, she was clean, and surely, surely, she would help them.

Her heart ached.

She was in no position to help anyone—in weeks, if not days, she was likely to be in the same position, begging, with no prospects and nothing to her name but suffering.

"I—" Miriam's voice came out broken. It'd been so long since she'd spoken to anyone, her last few days had been spent entirely avoiding speaking to anyone. "I have nothing." She finally got out, heart breaking as the woman's lips began to tremble.

"Please," she heard a smaller, meeker, voice.

It was the girl, and she'd pulled Miriam's cloak closer to herself, her small wan face pressed against the soft fabric.

Miriam's mouth went dry at the sight as the woman's hands slipped from her wrists.

"Don't, dear, please." The woman nearly fell to her knees, hands pulling at her daughter's grip, her bony fingers trying weakly to pry the child's dirty hands away from the cloak.

Miriam couldn't stand the sight, the small pleas that the woman made with her daughter, nor the desperate way the little one clung to her, blinking back tears as she buried her face in the cloak.

She was acting before she could even think it through. Her own hands were shaking, but she made quick work of undoing the cloak, the silver buttons slipping loose with only a bit of coaxing.

She leaned forward, the mother letting out a gasp of surprise as Miriam draped the cloak around mother and daughter.

"It's alright," she said softly, crouching down.

"But this is…" The mother's hands grabbed at the cloak, fingers gliding over the soft fabric, "too much." She whispered out as she caught a silver button between her fingers, eyes wide as it caught a ray of sunlight.

"It's not nearly enough," Miriam did her best to keep her voice level and not let any of her own emotion seep through.

The little girl finally pulled the cloak from her face, looking up at Miriam with a quivering lip.

"No need to cry," Miriam told her, using her cloak to wipe a bit of the dirt from the child's face.

The mother wrapped her trembling arms around her daughter, pulling the cloak tight around them.

"May the Maker bless you," her voice wavered and she pressed a kiss to the top of her daughter's head.

Miriam forced a smile, "I've not much, but to this, you are welcome, I hope—"

The woman shook her head, a motion that looked violent on such a frail body. "This is too much, truly, we cannot keep this." With great reluctance, she pulled the cloak off of them. "The guards will think we've stolen it—the brokers will not give us what it's worth."

Miriam's smile faltered, "But—"

"Anything else—coin, something small, nearly worthless—but nothing so grand." The woman shoved the cloak back into Miriam's hands. The little girl whimpered as her mother pulled her to her, allowing her to bury her face into her skirts.

Miriam set her jaw, something like anger sparking inside her. She was giving this, willingly, were things so bad here that she couldn't even do this much for them?

"Where is a good place to pawn it then, I will sell it myself." Miriam stood quickly, throwing the cloak back over her shoulders and fastening it at her throat.

"You would…" The woman nodded her head slowly, coming to understand what was being offered. "I know a place." She finally said.

"Then lead the way." Miriam nodded, gesturing forward.

-

The streets that the woman—who went by the name of Panlin, daughter Bryn—had taken her down were worse than where she'd ventured before. She'd kept her cloak wrapped tighter around her as they slipped through alleyways and holes in fences, but finally the grime of the slums gave way to more well maintained streets.

Magic had pulsed through the air more clearly here. The colorful glow of shop signs illuminated the streets, casting shades of vibrant blues and pinks across puddles and the faces of passersby. The natural light of the sun was blocked out by tall buildings and awnings overhead, making the place feel even more disconnected from the city around it than it already was.

The pawn shop they'd ushered her into had shelves upon shelves of items—from mundane to glittering and gold. The broker was a sweet talker, oozing with sleazy charisma, that unfortunately might have worked better on her had her thoughts not been so preoccupied with the mother and daughter that waited outside.

He'd haggled more than she would have liked, but she left the shop without her cloak and a concerning amount of coins in her pockets.

"Here." Miriam reached out her hand. Bryn outstretched her hands, eyes wide, ready to receive whatever Miriam had to offer.

Miriam knelt next to the girl, cupping her hands in her own before placing the coins firmly in her palm. She curled Bryn's fingers closed around the cool, shiny metal, encasing her hands fully in her own.

"I spoke to the shopkeeper, there is a place nearby that will let you a room for a whole week for this. They'll even give you breakfast every day." Miriam told her, a tight smile on her face. "And in a week, I'll be back."

Bryn's eyes grew wide. "Breakfast every day?" She gasped, looking up to her mother in disbelief.

"This is…" Panlin began to protest again, but stopped as a wide smile broke across Bryn's face.

"It's not nearly enough." Miriam finished for Panlin as she stood to her full height.

"How will we ever repay you?" Panlin whispered, brow creasing deeply, expression caught somewhere between relief and grief.

"You'll keep her safe." Miriam patted Bryn on the head, the young girl had opened her palms, gently turning the coins in her hand, counting them over and over again.

"And what will you be doing this coming week? You said you had nothing, but surely you have somewhere to go." Panlin pressed, watching Bryn play with the coins.

"I'll find work." Miriam assured, hand going to rest on the hilt of the shortsword on her hip.

Panlin gave her an uneasy look, taking the smallest step back. "Are you a mercenary?" She asked hesitantly. "The only good mercenary work involves things like finding slaves—is that what you do, because if so, I don't think we can—"

"No, no" Miriam threw up her hands, eyes going wide. "No, I'm not a mercenary—at least not yet—and I won't be doing any slave hunting. I don't know what I'll do, but not that—never that." She assured, but Panlin still looked uneasy.

"I promise." Miriam said, "Whatever I find, I'll make sure it's honest—nothing that could hurt our people, we have to stick together."

"Our people," Panlin said softly. Even though her hands still trembled, she gently brushed over Bryn's hair, pushing the dirty strands out from her face and tucking them behind her ear. She scoffed. "I'm not sure our people have ever done me much good, but…" She breathed deeply, "but perhaps this is a start." She nodded resolutely to Miriam.

"It has to start somewhere," Miriam offered her a sad smile. "And we should get you to those lodgings, I'm sure a good, safe rest and some food could do you both very well."

[mayonayys]

• Ryatha Aldwir used to have extremely long hair. When her parents were first making an effort to connect to her, they would both spend hours helping her maintain her hair and it was a tradition she and her mother continued when they left their clan. When her mother died, she shaved her head and has never let her hair get any longer than shoulder length since. Upon meeting and bonding with her sister, she has taken up the mantle of tending to her sisters hair the same way her parents tended to hers.

• Mihren Mercar was, not unexpectedly, bullied a lot as a child for being an elf in a human family in Tevinter. Her brother, who despite their being younger, was bigger than her and stood up for her from the very beginning. But she learned very quickly how to stand up for herself. This led the two of them to be a duo of protectors against schoolyard bully types, and ultimately what Mihren says shaped her sense of vigilante justice. (He would deny that he played any part in her going rogue, but he is so proud of her.)

• Ryatha was content to live a life without love—until she met Lucanis. She isn't the most experienced in romantic endeavors, with most of the bonds she forms feeling like familial bonds. It wasn't until she and her mother joined the Veil Jumpers that she experienced romantic love, but when she failed to stabilize an ancient elven artifact and the resulting explosion nearly caused their death, she shut herself off to that sort of relationship.

• Mihren secretly loved attending dinners and fancy military events with her parents. It was a chance to dress up and socialize with powerful people—and inadvertently gain loads of intel on said powerful people. She never really thought it would be particularly useful, but she still kept a staunch record of gossip in a diary at home. When she joined the Shadow Dragons, the intel she had recorded turned out to be tide turning. Unfortunately, this was not a single use diary and bits of gossip about magisters and military leaders were scribbled between entries about her person life. Tarquin enjoyed teasing her about those little glimpses immensely.

Rook Introduction Hour

Oh no sad =( Monday, again 👎👎👎

But it's the Rook Intro Hour ! <3

How it works: I ask you a question about your Rook(s) and you answer it with as much brevity or verbosity as you desire. You can do this whenever you want, and I’ll reblog it + add some comments! There’s no time limit— if you want to do the older ones, they are collected here! (The post is updated on Fridays!)

Today’s Questions: @mar42 suggested I ask if there's anything you headcanon about your Rook that is important to them (like routines they have, places they go, friends they meet), but probably wouldn't come up during the course of the game! Maybe they had a childhood pet, or a place they visit? Use your imagination!

Have fun, and thanks for sharing!

[n7viper]

A little self-indulgent Mihri/Cullen playlist

Do y'all need a playlist of my OC being in love? No, but here it is anyway. I just love music and sharing it. This has a nice little mix of everything I listen to - metalcore, P!atD, The Weeknd...

Lyrics and POVs below the cut for those interested. Also, a few of these aren't 100% or are more for lost love, but I make the rules here, and I'm ignoring that.

Alkaline - Sleep Token (Cullen POV)

Every once in a while, something changes And she's changing me It's too late for me now, I am altered There is something beneath

She's not acid nor alkaline Caught between black and white Not quite either day or night She's perfectly misaligned I'm caught up in her design And how it connects to mine I see in a different light The object of my desire

If anything, she's an undiscovered element Either born in hell or heaven-sent Either way, I'm into it

Hurricane - Panic! At the Disco (both POV)

Are you worth your weight in gold? Cause you're behind my eyelids when I'm all alone

Fix me or conflict me, I'll take anything Fix me or just conflict me, cause I'll take anything

Thirty One & Sevens - I Killed the Prom Queen (Cullen POV)

What if I told you, you were the only one To get inside my heart and raise my head toward the sun and What if I told you, that you meant more to me Than the stars on the horizon if I were lost at sea

You gave me a place to rest my head And get it all off my chest

Staring out at the edge of the world You bring me clarity

Follow You - BMTH (Cullen POV)

My head is haunting me and my heart feels like a ghost I need to feel something, 'cause I'm still so far from home Cross your heart and hope to die Promise me you'll never leave my side Show me what I can't see when the spark in my eyes is gone You got me on my knees, I'm your one-man cult Cross my heart and hope to die Promise you I'll never leave your side

'Cause I'm telling you, you're all I need I promise you, you're all I see 'Cause I'm telling you, you're all I need I'll never leave

So, you can drag me through hell If it meant I could hold your hand I will follow you, 'cause I'm under your spell And you can throw me to the flames I will follow you, I will follow you

Come sink into me and let me breathe you in I'll be your gravity, you be my oxygen So dig two graves, 'cause when you die I swear I'll be leaving by your side

mother tongue - Bring Me the Horizon (both POV, mostly Cullen)

I didn't see it coming But I never really had much faith In the universe's magic, oh, no Till it pulled us to that time and place And I'll never forget When the floodgates opened, we, we cried an ocean It still has me choking; it's hard to explain I know you know me, you don't have to show me I, I feel you're lonely, no need to explain

So don't say you love me, fala, "amo" Just let your heart speak up, and I'll know No amount of words could ever find a way to make sense of this

And I feel sick that I'm buzzing, oh, love, I'm in trouble I'm sorry, but you got me gushing all over the place I never wanna get wet But I think we're chosen like our fates were woven And all of those bad choices were left turns on the way

Collar Full - Panic! At the Disco (both POV)

We've waited so damn long, we're sick and tired I won't leave any doubt or stone unturned I've got a collar full of chemistry from your company So maybe tonight, I'll be the libertine

Oh, show me your love (Your love), your love (Your love) Give me more but it's not enough (Your love) Show me your love (Your love), your love (Your love) Before the world catches up (Your love) 'Cause there's always time for second guesses I don't want to know If you're gonna be the death of me That's how I want to go

You've got a pocket full of reasons why you're here tonight So, baby, tonight just be the death of me

Tear You Apart - She Wants Revenge (Mihri POV)

I want to hold you close, skin pressed against me tight Lie still, close your eyes, girl, so lovely, it feels so right I want to hold you close, soft breath, beating heart As I whisper in your ear, "I want to fucking tear you apart"

Either way, he wanted her, and this was bad Wanted to do things to her, it was making him crazy Now a little crush turned into a like And now he wants to grab her by the hair and tell her

I want to hold you close, skin pressed against me tight Lie still, close your eyes, girl, so lovely, it feels so right I want to hold you close, soft breath, beating heart As I whisper in your ear, "I want to fucking tear you apart"

Hypnosis - Sleep Token (Cullen POV)

Lift, oh, lift me out Of my own skin Of all my doubt Oh, and take Take from me Leave nothing left Take everything

Sink, sink your teeth Split my skin, no Just make me bleed Oh, and give Give me all All that I want Just give me all

You know you hypnotise me, always

And you make it more Than I could ever feel Before And I am almost under

THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND - Bad Omens (Cullen POV)

When the curtains call the time Will we both go home alive? It wasn't hard to realize Love's the death of peace of mind

I miss the way you say my name The way you bend, the way you break Your makeup running down your face The way you fuck, the way you taste

You come and go in waves Leaving me in your wake You come and go in waves Swallowing everything

Are you satisfied? Love's the death of peace of mind

The Hellfire Club - Thornhill (Cullen POV)

I'm captivated, a silver tongue meets the floor Do you need me like I've been needing you? 'Cause I'm needing you now, hold on, hold on

Oh, slowly Oh, you're lovely 'Cause I fall so easily, won't you stay a little while? Hold on, I'll follow you anywhere

Across the Bed - Volumes (both POV)

It's the way that you do me, babe It's what you do to me I move with you so perfectly Take it off as I pull you across the bed From your head to your feet A fever rising vigorously It's getting closer

Reminiscing on the lust you know how it was The feeling of the warmth of your breath and your touch Laying in bed with that scent of yours Staying here instead cause I wanted more

Pick it up and take it down Lose your body in the sound When you come it gets me high Let me in your world tonight

This World Can't Tear Us Apart - Trivium (Cullen POV)

I was so empty Self-loathing Before you awoke me Lived in transgression Feasted sin Destroying all I stood for

All the pain in this world won't stop us now For we have each other All the hate in this world can't tear us apart This love is forever

Love Me - Counterparts (both POV)

Will you love me when there's nothing left to love?

Nuture - Thornhill (both POV, varies)

You're the only one I think the world of Even the darkest things need to be loved

Happy or just distracted? I need to feel like everything is real I am imperfection, you were sent from above Nurture me in love with love

You've got that medicine and it's making me sick Hands pulling me down, you better catch me quick

There must be something more as I enter disease Life's pulling me down, won't you catch me please? Nurture me

Lost in the Fire - Gesaffelstein feat. The Weeknd (Mihri POV)

I wanna fuck you slow with the lights on You're the only one I've got my sights on Type of sex you could never put a price on I'll take it off, you're the one I'll roll the dice on

I can't lose you, babe

I used to have a girl a day But I want you to stay

[florallychaotic]

OC Asks!!!

Tagged by my beloved @avas-poltergeist 🥰

OC: Mihren Evgenia Lavellan from Dragon Age Inquisition

Compassion: 8/10

Bitterness: 5/10

Happiness: 4/10 pre inquisition, 9/10 post inquisition

Politeness: 6/10

Chivalry: 8/10

Pride: 7/10 (entirely unaware of this)

Honesty: 9/10

Bravery: 7/10

Loyalty: 8/10

Recklessness: 6/10

Ambition: 7/10 (started off at a zero, grew over time)

Love: 10/10

Sense of Faith: 4/10 (even without the events of the game, a little strained

Attractiveness: 6/10 (to me she's a fucking ten)

Agility: 8/10

Sex Drive: 8/10

Tagging @sparrowposting @amoremagnificentbastard @eraserspiral @gilded-glitter and if you see this and wanna do it feel free to tag me!!! <3<3<3<3

[mayonayys]

Elf ✧ Shadow Dragon ✧ Rogue

Mihren Family

Mihren Headcanons - Precious things

A Single Thread - Pre-Veilguard Fic

[mayonayys]

A little snippet from my next chapter of A Single Thread! 👀

As the sun dipped closer and closer to the horizon, the temperatures slowly dropped. Miriam found her a comfortable spot on the deck of the ship, looking out over the calm sea, with the docks firmly in her periphery.

She regretted, just a little, parting ways with her cloak. It had been so soft, so warm, and when she wrapped it around her tightly, inhaling deeply, it reminded her of home.

This one itched around her neck, with woolen panels sewn together with thick, uneven stitches. Its dull, wooden buttons fit loosely in the buttonholes and it felt as if it was constantly going to slip from her shoulders. And worst of all it smelled too much of the earth and salt—and she was pretty sure someone else's sweat.

Regardless, she pulled it around her tightly, the hood drawn to keep the bite of the wind off her face and ears.

WIP WEDNESDAY THURSDAY 2/20/25

Hello, it’s WIP Wednesday Thursday, again! The confusingly named game where you:

Reblog this post with a snippet of whatever you’re working on (art, writing, music, crafts, whatever!) and I encourage you and comment briefly !

It doesn’t need to be Dragon Age! You can do whatever !

Because it is weekly, I won’t really be reblogging after Thursday is over, but you can still add stuff, if you want!

If you are looking for comments on/promotion of work that is currently being published, I do that on Bio(ware)feedback days! The next one is 2/22/2025!

Thanks for sharing your work, and have a great day!