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faded-mage · 9 days ago

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Solas

Solas sat at his desk in the middle of the rotunda, the Inquisitor and her party had returned to Skyhold a week prior with Avise fully mended after their tussle with the god-dragon. He continued to contemplate what Ameridan said to Avise, the woman had taken it to heart. She threw herself into everything that brought her joy the moment she stepped back in Skyhold. Avise spent time with Cullen, training more in combat. She admitted to him once that she enjoyed the combination of the deep connection with herself she felt when she used magic and the physicality of the spirit blade. He admired her for it. He also noticed she was significantly more demonstrative towards others upon their return. All memories of the hurt her inner circle inflicted before their departure was gone. For her, life was too short to hold onto that pain.

His mind wandered, the tome in his lap sitting relatively untouched as he considered what they had experienced. He wondered how many other people of legend in the Chantry were sanitized to fit their narrative. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed small movements, his gaze settling on Avise as she wandered through the rotunda looking at his murals. The action itself was not overtly distracting but what she wore certainly was. With amusement he noted she was wearing one of his tunics. The simple beige contrasting with her skin. It hugged at her hips as his gaze trailed down to see that the tunic was the only thing she was wearing. The slits in the side of the tunic were high enough he could tell she wore nothing underneath. No leggings, no leg wraps, likely no small clothes. Her black hair was tied back, a few stray hairs hung in her face as she moved around the rotunda.

She started the game shortly after they returned to Skyhold from Halamshiral. Solas spent much of his time researching, reading, painting or time exploring in the Fade and Avise enjoyed his attention. She found ways to distract him from his work. At first he found it frustrating but he had come to love the intent behind it and enjoyed playing the game with her. He enjoyed seeing her grow more bold in her actions to distract him. This was his favorite to date.

From over the top of his tome he watched her move silently through the rotunda. With each movement the tunic covered just enough to keep her from baring herself to him but revealed enough to keep his eyes glued to her. She stopped finally, turning away from him as she admired his most recent mural. Avise stood delicately on her tip toes, leaning to look at some of the more detailed work, bending slightly at the hip to inspect something lower on the wall. The tunic’s hem rose slightly and he could almost see all of her and his pulse quickened, waiting for her to bend further. He knew she was doing it on purpose and it was working. All thoughts on the tome in his hands were gone. Did he even remember how to breathe?

Avise straightened herself, wandering back towards the small hallway that led to the doors to Cullen’s office. Glancing over her shoulder he could see the smirk dance across her lips. “Vhenan…” he sighed out. She won. The tome left on his desk as he strode towards her quickly, pushing her farther into the small hallway. He pressed her against the wall. His lips gently placing kisses across her neck , trailing up to her face before pressing his lips into hers. Her body responded, pushing her hips towards his, her own breathing ragged. He whispered quietly in her ear, the elvish floating off his lips, “Why do you tease me so, vhenan? Someone could hear us.” She responded by kissing his neck with feather light touches. “Then you will have to be quiet.” Solas’ hands trailed up the bare skin of her thighs, sliding underneath the tunic. As he guessed, she wore no small clothes.

His hand slid up the tunic, cupping one of her breasts with his hand, a soft sigh escaped her mouth and he captured with another kiss. Both of his hands moving to her thighs to pick her up, the elf’s legs immediately wrapping around his waist. Pinning her tightly between himself and the wall. Avise’s face was flushed, her breath catching in her throat as he pressed himself against her. Solas wanted her to say his name and started to grind into her against the wall. The elf whimpered, leaning her head back as he moved, one of her arms released him to drape the back of her hand against her mouth, to muffle the sounds she made. Biting down on the skin there. All Solas wanted was to hear her moans, her whimpers. He wanted her to not only say his name, he wanted to see how loud he could make her say it. Find out how many times he could make her finish with his name on her lips before the words devolved into nonsense. The woman had a tendency to revert to babbling in elven by the time he was done with her. The hallway was far from private but the last thing he wanted to do was let go of her.

As if fate decided for him the door that led to Cullen’s office opened a few feet from them. Both elves froze, Solas still holding her against the wall, her legs shakily wrapped around his waist. The two elves flushed with Avise breathing heavily. The tunic she wore had ridden up, baring all of her left hip and the curvature of her ass to whoever just walked in.

Cullen stopped dead in the middle of the doorway and Solas could tell he was trying to register what he just walked into. Solas considered what to do now, if he were to set down the elf at that moment, Cullen would get a full view of everything below her waist. Avise tapped his shoulder and he turned to set her down with Solas acting as a barrier between the two. He watched in amusement as Cullen’s face turned the brightest shade of red he had ever seen on the poor man, Avise stepping out from behind Solas while adjusting her tunic so that the Commander could remember how to speak. The very tips of Avise’s ears were pink and her fingers held the bottom of the tunic down so she did not inadvertently flash him.

“Good morning, Commander.” Avise gave him a half-smile and he seemed to finally regain the ability to form words. “I-uh. Well.” Solas saw the man’s eyes flicker over the elf at his side, his mouth opening slightly as he realized what little she had on. Normally, Solas was not a jealous man but the way the Commander gawked at her caused him to wrap his arm around Avise’s waist and pull her close, sliding his hand down her backside. The gesture seemed to bring Cullen back to his senses, “Good morning, I hope you both have a pleasant day.” He quickly walked past Avise while trying not to look at her directly.

Once he was gone Avise turned and leaned back against the wall as a laugh bubbled out from her, hands covering her face. He knew she was not overly concerned about nudity but she knew Cullen was a Chantry boy and did not know how to act around her when she wore anything particularly revealing. With the moment of jealousy gone, Solas himself felt bad for the man. The lingering glances from the Commander towards their dear Inquisitor indicated he had some feelings for her. He was quite sure Avise did not know herself, from what he could tell she assumed his awkwardness was towards all women, not just her.

Solas turned towards her and grasped her jaw like he did back in Halamshiral, tilting her face up towards him. Her pupils dilated as she looked up at him, a soft sigh escaping her as he leaned closer. “Vhenan, let us go find a more private place. I want to continue what was interrupted.” He led the woman to the chaise in the rotunda and pulled a blanket from the arm, wrapping it around the Inquisitor so she could make it to her chambers without baring it all to the great hall. She took him by the hand and led him through the door.

- - -

Solas woke in the middle of the night in Avise’s bed. They somehow ended up at far ends, her arm reaching out to touch him and barely able to find the edge of his chest. Her touch called to him, he had never felt anything so strong with anyone in his long life. He needed her touch, he needed her wrapped around him. Every inch of his body wanting to be pressed against hers. Without opening his eyes, he reached over and grasped her by the waist, dragging her across the sheets until she lay against him. The elf pulled her on top of him, her hips against his waist, one leg sleepily draped over his body. Her arm instinctually wrapped around his torso, her hand resting on his wolf’s jaw necklace. Solas could feel her heartbeat against his skin, felt the warmth of her breath as she sighed out, content in her dreams.

He lazily opened his eyes to glance down at her sleeping form, brushing the black hair that obscured her face from him behind her ear. Every day he knew he did not deserve her and every day she pulled him in deeper. His breath was caught in his chest as he watched her, his fingers lightly dragging across her bare back. Avise’s lips smiled against his skin. Solas whispered to her, “Ar lath ma, nas’falon.”

The woman in his arms was not only his heart, his vhenan. She was so much a part of him that he was devoted to her in a way that scared him. This devotion was different than his to Mythal, it was not forced nor coerced. They were not separate entities. His spirit was no longer just his, she had taken a piece of it and he could never get it back even if she tried to give it willingly. Solas did not want it back. He reached towards her face, dragging his thumb against her lips and he prayed that whatever he had to do, whatever the future was to bring, that he would be able to spare her in some way.

The desire to leave his mission behind so he could remain as Solas with her besides him was strong. Unable to think of a life worth living without her. Solas pushed the thoughts that wreaked havoc in his mind, unable to understand why fate was so cruel. He was bound to Mythal still, she never released him from his purpose and the woman who lay against him threatened that. Avise sighed again, adjusting her body to wrap more around his. It took him awhile to fall asleep, just listening to her breathing while he stared at her ceiling.

#dragon age inquisition #inquisitor lavellan #avise lavellan #solas x lavellan #sollavellan #dragon age #fan fiction #spoilers #lots of them #honey and wildfire are both the color gold #solavellan #solavellan hell #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #ao3 port #solas #solas dragon age

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accultant · 3 months ago

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How Vivienne was able to convince the Circle to let an apostate with a reputation as damning as Iago's roam freely ( yeah, right, they're being watched like a hawk ) is a marvel, but that was easy work compared to what it took to convince Iago.

It's the first time they've even stepped foot into another circle since they left their last one with blood on their hands. The spirit of Chaos within them is already grumbling, threatening or perhaps demanding a repeat of this last escape and they've only just arrived. It hated the imprisonment of the circle just as much as Iago did - You can't very well contain a spirit of chaos and expect anything less than rage and destruction to gain their freedom back. Now, willingly walking into one of those places again, Iago can feel their ghastly companion clawing at them from the inside, pacing like a caged tiger. It goes without saying that Iago feels much the same.

They can't stop looking over their shoulder, eyeing everyone they pass, noting every possible exit and threat, and they refuse to step further than a few feet from Ameridan's side. If there's anyone in this whole place that they feel they could trust, it would be him.

They nod curtly in agreement to his sentiment. Prison was a perfect word for a place like this, regardless of how content some of the mages seem to be.

"I feel like I can't breathe in here," they confess, quietly, anxiously fidgeting with their hands. Their skin crawls as their imagination runs wild, comparing every perfect, pristine inch of this place to the one they ran away from.

"We could leave right now if we so wished," their half-serious suggestion is to only Ameridan, though they're sure Vivienne is listening to them as they trail after her. Staring at her back, they can only guess that she must be rolling her eyes at Iago's grumbling. The Inquisitor is supposed to be brave. The Inquisitor is supposed to be a leader. The Inquisitor should put aside petty fears and focus on the bigger issue at hand. The Inquisitor should get over it. But Iago is horrible under the limelight, and they never even asked for that awful title anyway -

They can't rehash that here and now of all places. Cutting off that train of thought, they rephrase to a response that sounds not entirely like what a spiteful, runaway coward would say, "I'll make sure this does not take long. Every second spent lingering is one second closer to this place going up in flames." okay, still very spiteful, not their best,

They're certain they see an eavesdropping Vivienne finally twitch at that comment, and they hiss an addendum, "On accident."

"You see what this place does to people?" ( for ameridan ? )

Ameridan never saw the insides of any of the first Circles of Magi. He had been invited, but between duties to the Dales and battle against the darkspawn there'd been no time. He'd made no time. He'd had no desire to see what he had fought so hard against, and moreover there had been a thought --- irrational, but still --- that if he went, the doors would be closed behind him and he wouldn't be allowed out. Despite being a citizen of the Dales, allowed free passage through the ciriane lands by the emperor's decree, despite the templars in charge having been under his command only recently, he hadn't fully trusted them.

The Circle of Montsimmard, last loyal Circle in Vivienne's words, probably has little in common with those first iterations. He doubts the first Circle mages in Val Royeaux walked on brightly coloured carpets, or had shelves up to the vaulted ceilings filled with books. Some of that may be Vivienne's doing, but it fits with what he has heard about other Circles. There was a quiet splendour to many of them, a subdued luxury.

Gilt cages. The bars wrought in such fanciful shapes it is easy to overlook the fact that they are bars. As they pass through the halls he notices how high up the windows are located --- too high to be opened or broken and climbed through --- and how heavy the doors are, how massive their locks.

"This is a prison." He tilts his head towards Iago so that he can speak quietly. "Whether its captives acknowledge it or not. Let us not linger any more than necessary."

As he says that, even with Vivienne leading them with the air of a queen returning to her court, even with the might of the Inquisition at their backs, again he has that thought: what if the doors do not open again. What if they turn around and are met by a row of templars, all stern faces behind their visors, steel arms crossed. It's a thought he suspects any mage has had who once had a taste of freedom: what if someone means to take it away? How many would I have to kill to escape?

#couldnt think of a reason why iago would be in the inquisition fast enough so WOE inquisitor iago be upon ye! They Hate It.#if ANYONE makes any sudden movements at iago rn this whole place is blowing up #idk the specifics on how having a spirit in ur brain works so i make it up <3 thats iagos emotional support Little Freak in their chest #skyheld #★. *･｡━━━ 🎱 an extraordinary machine ~ ic #★. *･｡━━━ 🌀 hyperactive hornets in my lungs ~ v: dragon age

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jawsofhakkontranscript · 4 years ago

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On Ameridan's Trail

(Previous quest - What Yet Lingers: Return to Kenric)

Main questline: On Ameridan’s Trail

Characters involved: Bram Kenric, Lace Harding

A spirit - in the guise of Inquisitor Ameridan's lover, Telana - revealed that Ameridan travelled upriver.

Part 1: Follow the river and look for spires. Follow the spire path to an ancient ruin.

(The Tevinter ruin can be seen in the distance.)

Party comments:

Varric: Well, we're up the river. That old Tevinter building must be what the spirit meant.

Sera: So. River, metal—just like the friendly spirit said. Great.

Cole: Yes. Upriver, spires, a place to pray and plan, one last night. This is it.

Solas: This must be the area the spirit referred to.

(Approach the ruin. It’s guarded by a large group of Hakkonites.)

Party comments:

Dorian: It seems the Jaws of Hakkon would rather we weren’t here.

Blackwall: Look's like we've stumbled on what they don't want found.

Cassandra: The Jaws of Hakkon must be guarding this place for a reason.

Iron Bull: We found something they don't want found.

(Defeat the Hakkonites and enter Razikale’s Reach.)

(Dorian has a unique comment about each Tevinter ruin. Here’s what he has to say about Razikale’s Reach.)

Dorian: Makes you wonder about the sad, mid-level bureaucrat who thought building an outpost here would be a career boost.

Part 2: Wait for Harding and Kenric to arrive. Investigate the area.

Kenric: This is brilliant! This must be what the spirit meant. Excellent find! From what I can see, this is an ancillary station, likely a scouting post for the larger structure to the east. What can it tell us about where Inquisitor Ameridan went? Hmm…

Harding: I got Professor Kenric here safely. The rest is up to you.

Kenric: Lady Harding was quite nimble in the wilderness!

Harding: I'll be watching to make sure the Hakkonites don't come back.

(Enter the main courtyard. There are strange tiles on the ground.)

Kenric: This is Tevinter, from well before the last Inquisitor's time. I understand they used such tiles as locks. Interesting, though not likely related to Ameridan.

(There are two closed doors on your right and left. In front of each door, there’s a smaller tileset, similar to the one in the center of the courtyard. They show two patterns.)

Kenric: I believe that shape relates to the tiles. If you could replicate the shape in the tiles, something... would happen?

(Once you press the tiles in the correct order, replicating the pattern visible in the smaller tileset, the corresponding doors open. Kenric has an additional remark after both doors have been opened.)

Kenric: Brilliant! Look at that!

(The following remarks appear to have been cut from the game, but they can still be found in the voice file connected to this questline. They might’ve been intended to occur during the investigation of the outskirts of Razikale’s Reach.)

* Kenric: Hmm, Dalish. Of course, modern clans often carry heirlooms—it may be from a Dalish clan passing through.

* Kenric: I've heard of such illuminations but only encountered drawings. Elven or the common tongue? It's not quite legible.

* Kenric: An Orlesian buckle. Unlikely to have been dropped by ancient Tevinters, wouldn't you say?

PC: Is this useful?

Kenric: (Laughs.) Merely interesting.

PC: That's... good?

(Continue exploring the ruin. One of the chambers is guarded by a magical barrier.)

Part 3: Find a way to take down the barrier.

(Investigate the inscription on the left side of the barrier.)

Kenric: This is elven. I believe it's the word for "light."

(Investigate the inscription on the right side of the barrier.)

Kenric: "Theneras." The elven word for "dream," I think.

Kenric: It's some sort of clue to this barrier. I'm not sure how…

(Find a veilfire source on the battlements. Use it to dispel the barrier.)

Part 4: Explore the chamber.

Kenric: Oh, well done. Well done, indeed.

Harding: That's something you don't see every day.

Kenric: A pair of shrines. This one is clearly Andrastian, albeit from a very early period, likely pre-Divine. But this is elven. One of their gods. Um, what was it...? "Every mother finds druffalo among sleeping juniper groves..." G-something, the one with the deer.

[1] Dialogue options:

Investigate: Every mother finds what? [2]

Special: That sentence is incomplete. [3] (Becomes available after following the dialogue branch [2] “Every mother finds what?”)

Elf: Ghilan'nain. [4]

History: Ghilan'nain. [5]

Special: Solas? [6]

Special: Sera? [7]

General: Focus, Kenric. [8]

[2] Investigate: Every mother finds what?

PC: What was that, every mother finds druffalo?

Kenric: Oh, it's, um, a memory aid to help me with the names of the elven gods. "Every" is Elgar'nan, "mother" is Mythal, "finds" is Fallow-something… (Coughs.) I was more focused on early Chantry history. I didn't really do elves. [Back to 1]

[3] Special: That sentence is incomplete.

PC: Are you sure that your memory aid caught all the elven gods?

Kenric: Well, there's only one "F", for Falon'Din. I suppose I forgot Fen'Harel.

(If Solas is in the party.) Solas: Most people do.

Kenric: This isn't him, though. It's one of the ladies, ah, obviously. G-something… [Back to 1]

[4] Elf: Ghilan'nain.

PC: That would be Ghilan'nain, Mother of the Halla. [9]

[5] History: Ghilan'nain.

PC: That would be Ghilan'nain, Mother of the Halla. [9]

[6] Special: Solas?

PC: (Looks expectantly at Solas.)

Solas: (Sighs.) Ghilan'nain. [9]

[7] Special: Sera?

PC: Sera, I don't suppose...?

Sera: I know things. It's Ghilan'nain. Ghilan'nain. Arse. [9]

[8] General: Focus, Kenric.

PC: Unless the deer points us at the final resting place of Inquisitor Ameridan, we can probably leave it for now.

Kenric: Right. Regardless of the deity, this is clearly elven. [Go straight to 10]

[9] Kenric: Yes, brilliant, thank you! That would have bothered me all day. [10]

[10] Harding: Two shrines for two lovers: Inquisitor Ameridan and Telana. Maybe Telana was an elf.

Kenric: Oh, yes, that's good! The Chantry expunged references to elves before the Exalted March on the Dales. They erased the Canticle of Shartan. They must have done the same to Telana. [11]

[11] Dialogue options:

General: That's offensive. [12]

General: That's normal. [13]

General: Is this where Ameridan died? [14]

[12] General: That's offensive.

PC: The Chantry should not rewrite history to cover up inconvenient truths.

Party comments:

Cassandra: Agreed. The Chant of Light should spread the truth, not suppress it.

Kenric: Regardless, the important thing is what this tells us. It's not a burial site, that much is obvious. [15]

[13] General: That's normal.

PC: It's only natural. History is written by the victor, after all.

Party comments:

Cassandra: Natural, perhaps. But not right.

Kenric: Regardless, the important thing is what this tells us. It's not a burial site, that much is obvious. [15]

[14] General: Is this where Ameridan died?

PC: Do you think this is where Ameridan died?

Kenric: No, this was a site of preparation, not burial. Ameridan and Telana put up this shrine together. [15]

[15] Harding: Look at those flowers. They're not native to the area. What if they were left at the shrine as an offering?

Kenric: Yes, a night of prayer before battle against the dragon. But then where, where… We're missing something. What are we missing? Where did you go?

Part 5: Look for more clues.

(Activate one of the veilfire runes in the chamber.)

PC: Professor, look at this: "Shartan 10:7" and "Transfigurations 10:1."

Kenric: Shartan is dissonant: "And before them, empty, outstretched lay the land which led to the gates of Minrathous." And Transfigurations is, "The Light shall lead her safely through the paths of this world." Why these verses? Why would Inquisitor Ameridan take the time to carve this before going into battle?

(Activate the other veilfire rune.)

PC: "The gates of Minrathous." Isn't there a Tevinter fortress in the area?

Kenric: Yes? ...Oh, of course, the ritual site! To seal the dragon away, Ameridan's elven mage must have used a spell, at a site of great power!

Harding: My scouts have checked the fortress. It's sealed behind a wall of ice. It has to be magic.

PC: Let's look around. Ameridan found a way through that ice, so that way should be nearby.

Part 6: Activate a trail marker.

PC: "The Light shall lead her safely through the paths of this world and into the next."

Kenric: Brilliant! When the Imperium abandoned this fortress, they left the wall of ice to—to... lock the door behind them?

Harding: And every lock has a key.

Kenric: Like these trail markers. Ameridan must have known how to use them. If they can melt through the ice, that must be where Ameridan sealed away the dragon.

PC: I'll follow the markers and see what we can find.

Part 7: Light all of the trail markers.

(Leave the temple and follow the trail of light across the Frostback Basin.)

Party comments when you activate the first trail marker in the forest:

First comment:

Cassandra: Are we certain these trail markers will burn through this wall of ice around the fortress?

Blackwall: Let's hope these trail markers can breach the wall of ice around the fortress.

Iron Bull: We sure these things will burn through the magical ice?

(If no companion makes a comment here.)

PC: Hopefully this removes the wall of ice around the Tevinter fortress.

Possible second comment:

Dorian: As long as the trail markers are still functional, we should be fine.

Vivienne: At least the trail markers appear to be functional.

Solas: Given that the trail markers retain enough energy to illuminate one another, I see no reason to worry.

Possible third comment:

Sera: No ice, still a wall. What about that?

Cole: But there's still a wall. Light doesn't make walls go away.

Varric: You think these things will get us through that giant fortress wall?

(After activating the third marker, you’ll have to cross the river by foot, which causes your companions to voice their dissatisfaction.)

Party comments:

Sera: Ugh, water everywhere. Everything is dank and chafy.

Dorian: Are we wading now? I'm so glad I came along.

Vivienne: It appears we shall be reduced to wading. Lovely.

Iron Bull: Looks like we're wading.

(If Varric is in the party, he always speaks at the end.) Varric: I don't know what you're complaining about. You're taller than I am.

(The path from the sixth to seventh trail marker is destroyed, so you’ll have to take a detour.)

Party comments:

Sera: The road is not a road anymore. Find another way, yeah?

Varric: 800 years is a long time to expect a path to stay pristine. We'll have to find another way.

Iron Bull: Rockslide took out the path. We'll have to go around.

Cassandra: The path is gone. We must find another way around.

Solas: The path has been destroyed. We will need to find another way.

Blackwall: With the path destroyed, we'll have to find another way around.

(Activate the ninth trail marker - one before the last.)

Party comments:

Cassandra: We are almost to the fortress.

Iron Bull: Not far to that old Vint fortress now.

Blackwall: That Tevinter fortress shouldn't be much further.

(The trail markers lead to the Old Temple where the Jaws of Hakkon burrowed in.)

(Dorian has a unique comment about each Tevinter ruin. Here’s what he has to say about the Old Temple.)

Dorian: Tevinter architecture at its finest. This just screams "I hated my parents and had no friends as a child," doesn't it?

(Activate the last marker and dissolve the magical wall of ice. You may attempt to attack the Hakkonites defending the battlements, but they’ll just keep coming and one of the male Hakkonites will mock your efforts.)

Hakkonite taunts:

Your gods are weak, Inquisitor! You will see the power of Hakkon when we destroy the lowlands! Can your lowland magic melt stone as well as ice?

Will you stay and wait, lowland fools? The walls are stone. They will not melt! (Laughs.)

The Jaws of Hakkon can hold this fortress until the winter snaps your bones!

The Jaws of Hakkon will bring death to you all!

Will you bring an army to breach these walls? We will destroy you all!

Your mother was a nug and your father smelled of elfroot!

Party comments:

Solas: This fortress is too well-fortified for a direct assault! We must find some other way inside! Perhaps Kenric will have a suggestion! (Or) Perhaps the Avvar at Stone-Bear Hold will have a suggestion!

Dorian: I don't see us breaching these walls. Could we try something else? Perhaps Kenric will have a suggestion! (Or) Perhaps our new friends at Stone-Bear Hold will have some ideas!

Cassandra: The fortress is too well-defended! We must find another way in! Perhaps Kenric will have some idea! (Or) The Avvar at Stone-Bear Hold may have ideas!

Blackwall: We cannot take this fortress in a direct assault. We must find another way! Perhaps Kenric will know something! (Or) The Avvar at Stone-Bear Hold have no love for these Hakkonites! They may have an idea!

Sera: Up the front isn't working. Find a different hole! (Laughs) I hate other people's arrows! Tell Kenric this won't work! (Or) We need friends! The Stone-Bears hate this lot—get them!

Varric: I don't think we're taking this fortress with a direct assault! Can we talk about it with Kenric maybe, somewhere we aren't being shot at? (Or) Anybody got a better idea? The Avvar at Stone-Bear Hold might have some ideas!

Iron Bull: No way we take this place by force! We need another plan! Maybe Kenric can tell us something! (Or) What about Stone-Bear Hold? Anybody can get in, it'll be them!

Cole: Too strong, too many! We need a different way! Kenric sent us here! He can send us somewhere else! (Or) The Avvar at Stone-Bear Hold! They want to help!

Vivienne: We are ill-equipped for a siege, my dear! Perhaps a change of tactics? Perhaps Kenric will have a suggestion! (Or) Our new friends at Stone-Bear Hold may be of some use!

(In case you have come across the Old Temple prior to this questline, you’ll still find it protected by a wall of ice, but with no clues how to dispel it, so you might hear some comments from your companions.)

Party comments:

Dorian: A wall of ice. Lovely. I don't see any way through for now.

Sera: Well. Not your normal... giant wall of ice. Maybe leave it alone?

Solas: This wall is magical in nature. Curious, though I see no way through at the moment.

Vivienne: This is obviously magical, and just as obviously impassable for now.

(Report back to Kenric after you took care of the ice-wall.)

General: I disabled the fortress wards.

PC: I used the trail markers to disable the wards on the Tevinter fortress. Unfortunately, the Jaws of Hakkon hold the fortress.

Kenric: The Hakkonites? Oh dear. That's going to make it difficult to study the area. Lady Harding discussed the other Avvar. They haven't been hostile. Do you think they might help? I'm sorry I don't have anything more useful. I like battles when they've been over for a few ages.

(Go to Stone-Bear and plan the assault with Professor Kenric and Svarah Sun-Hair.)

(Next quest - Ameridan's End: Assault the Jaws of Hakkon)

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nerd-mom · 3 years ago

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Honestly JoH fights are so exhausting.

That Hakkon’s wrath debuff is so cheesy.

#dragon age inquisition #da: inquisition #ian trevelyan #jaws of hakkon #JOH fight solo #hakkonites #ameridan’s trail

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lairofdragonagelore · 2 years ago

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DLC: Jaws of Hakkon - Frostback Basin, Frozen Gate

The gate remains frozen, even at the height of summer. A piece of ice chiseled from the whole remained unmelted in a bucket of warm water, even withstanding the heat of burning embers. I have never seen such magic. Our Avvar guide, Ragnar, will tell me nothing about what lies beyond the frozen wall. I have exhausted all possibilities and shall have to accept that I will never pass beyond that gate.

[This is part of the series “Playing DA like an archaeologist”]

[Index page of Dragon Age Lore ]

At the bridge in front of the frozen gate, the codex The Frozen Gate is triggered, where we are informed that this ice is magical and strong to the point that nothing melts it. This explains why the hakkonites have armour and weapons made of ice. This particular ice is extremely strong. And due to the hint given in the Elvhen Tomb, the game suggests us to relate the entity trapped in the Elvhen Tomb with Hakkon trapped now inside the citadel.

The frozen Gates was the entrance to a citadel which, apparently, was meant to replace Minrathous when these Tevinters considered that the Empire had fallen [due to the First Blight] according to Tevinter Inscription.

Nobody knows how the Tevinter disappeared, the only two unreliable leads are the Ice-troll tale, which claims that the troll was responsible of this, and according to Kenric [who doesn’t explain why or how he reached this conclusion], the Tevinter entered the gates and never left.

The gate is encrusted on the rock of the mountain. In front of it there is a diapason-like trail artefact that we have seen in Razikale’s Reach it carries arcane energy, or Fade energy from Razikale’s Reach to this point. When we shoot the ice with it, it breaks it a bit of, making possible to cross the door. This shows that only two magics are able to move and destroy this ice: Tevinter magic using these devices, and Hakkonite mages, which knows the “mystery of Winter” [later will be explained, in combination with callbacks to Elvhen Tomb]

The gates are decorated with classical tevinter dragon-gargoyles, and a banner of Koth, which must have been a recent addition since the fortress is under control of the hakkonites. From this side, the door is blocked by the ice, but on the other side, we can see it;

The curious thing is that here, for first time in the game [so far I can tell], we find this peculiar door that has a strong similarity to the Grey Warden symbol of two griffons in a Tevinter style, which has an interesting resemblance to a dragon extending its wings or rising [like Kirkwall/Emerius’ symbol]. I only saw this door design in the concept art of the doors of tevinter ruins, but the symbol is peculiar, specially if we take into account that strange similar symbols have appeared before in Hinterlands: The Unknown Ruin [Mihris]

Inside the gates we find a crater where part of the Tevinter structure is falling apart, and a colossus is crying water. Solas perceives that inside the crater there is a lot of magic coming. I’m not sure if he is perceiving Ameridan's power, or the Hakkonites [trying to release Hakkon] or Hakkon himself.

Due to the vegetation growing around the ruins, we can suspect the crater was done by the time these Tevinter were established here. Maybe the hypothesis of them disappearing inside this ruin is not wrong. Maybe they disappeared in the blast of whatever caused this crater.

Here we find another Colossus in the game, the third one, with two spikes in his head which is the main difference with the other two, placed in Hissing Wastes: scattered objects and ruins and in Western Approach: Coracavus; Front Corridor and South Entrance. For more details read those posts.

As we can see the Tevinter structure has spiky pyramids along its bridge, which is a style we saw already in The Uncharted Abyss, Forgotten Caverns, in a smaller scale and with extra claws. Once again, it could mean a mere reuse of asset [very likely when it comes to DLCs] or a way to express that these two cultures had some exchange of some kind in ancient times.

Apparently, inside this fortress, we find a Temple of Razikale. The only hint about this is that the game names this door as an old temple, and considering the Razikale theme in all this DLC, it's just obvious to assume this is Razikale's temple.

Inside the temple, we see that the cold doesn't subside. We find corridors and chambers covered in snow. This makes us suspect that the entity of Hakkon is responsible of this cold.

In similar style to Coracavus or the Still Ruin, this place has typical Tevinter decorations, with that curious spiky sun, the rhomboid face of what looks like a dragon or an archon, and columns of serpent-dragons eating one after the other. These design will be seen in detail in the post Tevinter Design and Style.

We find more typical Tevinter gargoyles

and a scroll-library.

As a curious element, we find this owl statue which is found in the elven ruins in Trespasser, as well as the War table chamber of Skyhold or in its basement where we find the library of Skyhold.

There are ferelden rugs,

Ram for sieges,

and this object I didn't see before in the game: It looks like a big cup or cylinder decorated with a chained serpent-dragon, and some arrows crossing its wings. It's not clear because it's a complicated shape to follow on a cylinder and in a dark room. I would love to see the game file texture of it with better quality.

We also find these coffins with that lid I called Razikale Ceremony . We see here that they are meant to be used as coffins since we see a skeleton getting out of it.

Part of the chamber is collapsed, probably because Hakkon. I assume this just because the presence of stalagmites on the broken and falling apart

As we explore the different chambers, we find pieces of the past of how Ameridan entered here with his companions. Thanks to Pages near an Old Campfire we can conclude some things:

Colette’s theory about the statue of Haron and Orinna in Nigel’s Point seems to have some confirmation with this codex.

This wall of ice, which seems to be caused by the presence of Hakkon himself, can be manipulated by hakkonites. This suggests that the hakkonites learnt “the mystery of winter”, some kind of particular ice magic related to Hakkon [which is related to the Elvhen Tomb too].

Ameridan does a comparison claiming that Hakkon trapped inside this dragon has similar destruction power than the Archdemon Dumat.

I always feel conflicted when I see banners [in this case, Inquisition banners] in places where they should not be. It confuses me about how much detail in these environments should be taken into account. They could have placed avvar or chasind banners, as a way to show how the hakkonites took control over this citadel.... why the Inquisition’s?

We find these artefacts once more that we could not guess its function in Coracavus. They seems to be always on desks, and in this place, we can have a better guess at their functionality: it may be a device that allows the creation or reading of Veilfire runes. Along the temple we find Journal of Gurd Harofsen, which basically says:

Gurd Harofsen left his original hold and had a mercenary life for a while. While in Redcliff, he heard the news of his hold being attacked by darkspawn. Blighted bodies are not touched by the birds in their aerial burials so he knows his people won’t find peace.

This makes him swear against the Lady of the Skies and Korth, for not sending a warning to them. He loses faith in his main gods.

Apparently Gurd knows of a tale that says that Hakkon was lost to the Avvar because he was “stolen by lowlanders”, and then he speaks of the ancient Hakkonites. He implies that the hakkonites bounded the god into the flesh of a dragon, and this one was stolen by Ameridan.

They found Hakkon inside the fortress. Apparently, Gurd’s mages could manage to work the ice on the entrance a bit to give enough time for the hakkonites to enter. He says that his mages were blessed by “Silent Hakkon”.

Strangely, Hakkonite mages can’t understand Ameridan’s time magic. It’s hard to guess what we can infer from this, since Avvar mages are so in contact with spirits that I thought it was almost natural for them to understands elven magic, specially rift-magic.

Since Gurd and his hakkonites can’t break Ameridan’s magic, they plan to bind hakkon into another beast: potentially the bear of Stone-Bear Hold.

By the end, Gurd decides to willingly bind Hakkon to himself. [A narrative gesture of taking godhood for himself]

Thanks to Cole we confirm that the Dragon is possessed by Hakkon. Part of the Hakkon's shape can be seen sometimes, crafted with this green energy that always gives the idea of Fade essence. The figure overlaps the dragon.

During the exploration of these chambers, we can hear a song by Gurd Harofsen, which seems to be part of the ritual to draw Hakkon into himself.

Sing the song of savage Hakkon, born in battle, bloody bladed.

Wintersbreath to wrack the lowlands, cold to cut and kill the hated.

Meet the might of Mountain-Father, crush the creed of Korth the Callow.

Leave the Lady lost and lonely, scour the skies of spirits sallow!

Gurd Harofsen, called The Cutter, wyvern-slayer, lowland-bane

Begs of Hakkon, bring his body bloody blessings, cold and pain!

We find boxes with the symbol of Hakkon/fulmenos in some places.

Finally, we find Gurd. It’s not clear for me why he is like a Revenant. Probably a reuse of assets to show he has endured a process to let Hakkon take his body.

Once Gurd is defeated, we can talk to Ameridan, interesting things to keep listed:

He is wearing Dirthamen's vallaslin.

He is casting a strong magic that stops time, but unlike in the The Still Ruin, there is no “hole” in the space.

We confirm what we had suspected all over the DLC: he was a good friend of Drakon, he was a hunter of demons, Telana was the love of his life.

Apparently, Ameridan bind himself to Hakkon and make both stop in time. I don’t think we have seen any similar magic of this kind in the series, even though we saw two time magics already: Alexius’ necklace and the magic in the Still Ruin.

But as we saw in the The Ruin Still, time can be stopped, but it catches up with the living creatures: Ameridan turns into ashes instantly when he stops the spell.

So, Hakkon is free, and we go to fight him at the south of the map

At the end, once we kill the dragon, we can see that the spirit of Hakkon is released, and has a dragon shape in Fade-like effects.

#dlc #Tevinter design #hakkon #ameridan #avvar #The Colossus #Razikale Ceremony #Tevinter objects #playing DA like an archaeologist

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crackinglamb · 3 years ago

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Last Line Meme

Tagged by @pikapeppa, thank you! 💕

The Muse is sleeping so hard it might as well be hibernating. But occasionally it rolls over and words fall out from under it like extra pillows.

Have some.

---

"Professor Kenric's got a student with him, Colette. She's been helping him research the clues they've been finding on Inquisitor Ameridan's trail. She was supposed to check in when she reached her destination, some Tevinter ruin to the northeast of here, but she hasn't yet. He's afraid something's happened to her.”

“Any idea where we might start looking?” she asked, even though she knew where she would find the young elf. Well, presumably. She hoped she was fast enough to still catch her before anything got to her first. As she recalled, there would be lurkers attacking when the Inquisitor's party arrived. Imogen knew all too well that real life wasn't a script, and the danger the girl was in was genuine.

“Last I spoke to her, she was going to try and cut cross country, through the swamp.”

“When was that?”

“Couple days ago?” Harding made a face as she thought. “Bram...the Professor, I mean, would know.”

“All right, I'll ask him.”

#tagged #last line meme #and a few extra because I can #imogen mclean #lace harding #what a wicked game to play

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lillotte17 · 4 years ago

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Storm Chasers

Oh lord, this was a prompt from...4-5 YEARS ago??? I have no idea where the ask is anymore, but I believe it was “The sound of thunder.”

Solas awoke to the rumbling of distant thunder and the discovery that the bedroll beside him had been vacated. After an instant of blind groggy panic, he sensed the familiar magic of the Inquisitor’s mark coming from somewhere nearby. A heavy sigh of relief mixed with mild exasperation slid from him as he sat up and began rummaging around for his clothes.

The air in the Frostback Basin was cool and cloying, with a weighty dampness that seemed to seep into his very bones. Between the layers of thick furs and the warmth of his lover’s arms, Solas had been perfectly comfortable sleeping in just his breeches, but he certainly was not about to stroll around the camp that way.

After a few moments of fruitless searching, he heaved a defeated groan. Aili must have walked off with his sweater. Again.

He pulled on a lighter linen tunic from is pack instead, wrapping one of the still-warm blankets from their bed about his shoulders before he exited the tent, completely barefoot and hoping she had not wandered too far.

Even in the dead of night, the forest was a marvel. Pockets of strange colors turned into something ghostly when illuminated by cool glow of the veilfire torches set around the camp and along the twisting pathways on the forest floor. A weak drizzle of rainfall fractured their light into an ethereal haze, deepening the long black shadows of the massive trees until they looked like holes in the skin of the world. It was all at once beautiful and haunting.

Solas pulled the blanket up over his head to serve as a makeshift hood as he searched their treetop campsite for any signs of Aili. He shivered slightly as the rain began to soak through his clothing, causing the cream-colored linen to stick to his skin. He vaguely hoped that Aili had at least had the good sense to pull on more than his sweater before wandering outside in this weather.

The sound of quiet humming came drifting to him through the gentle hiss of falling water like the memory of a dream.

Sure enough, Aili was sitting out on one of the larger tree limbs, the ones big enough to pass for pathways in their own right, clad in nothing but his sweater and a worn pair of leggings, her bare feet swinging back and forth in time with her song. Her damp hair hung about her shoulders in loose ringlets, the moonlight igniting it into a gleaming halo around her face, edging her features in silver. Her eyes burned with a fire of their own, two violet coals that found him in the darkness long before he had made a noise that a human could have heard.

“Ma sa’lath,” she greeted him quietly.

“Vhenan,” he replied in kind as he made his way out onto the branch. He sat down beside her in the unpleasantly wet moss that had grown over the wood, wrapping one arm around her shoulders to share the relative shelter of the blanket. “What are you doing out here in the middle of the night?”

“Humming,” she said evasively, her eyes flitting away from him to look back out into the trees. He regarded her silently, a sharply arched brow paired with a thin suspicious frown informing her that he was by no means satisfied with her answer.

“I was just thinking, Solas, honestly,” she amended with a tired-sounding sigh.

“And these thoughts could not be processed adequately someplace warm and dry?” He queried.

“It’s just rain,” she huffed at him, rolling her eyes. “It isn’t as though I’m going to melt if I get a bit wet. Besides, I needed the fresh air.”

There was another rumble of thunder, louder than the last, and the rain was decidedly heavier than when he had left their tent.

“It will be storming soon enough,” he said, getting to his feet and offering her a hand to do the same.

“Do you think it might have been something like this?” She asked softly, still staring out at the forest, ignoring his outstretched hand. “The Dales? …Halamshiral?”

Solas blinked at her in mild astonishment before taking a moment to consider, gazing out into the woods once more. He saw the distant flickering lights of other Inquisition campsites in the trees as well as along the riverbank and fires from other smaller camps which likely belonged to groups of wandering Avaar. The crumbling ruins of elves and humans alike, molded into new purpose. The towering trees standing watch like gigantic sentinels. The tenuous state of the Veil and the lingering sense of older magics.

“Perhaps,” Solas said gently, sensing her melancholy, “I imagine that many of the Dalish settlements strongly resembled human villages from the areas of Thedas their inhabitants originated from. The more Elvhen elements likely did not appear until much later.”

“See that in the Fade, did you?” Aili asked with a wry smile, an unmistakable touch of bitterness coloring her tone.

“I apologize if my knowledge offends you, Inquisitor,” he replied with an unexpected edge of his own, and perhaps a not so subtle trace of hurt.

“I’m sorry,” Aili said hastily, reaching out for his hand and bringing it to her cheek, nuzzling it in apology. She heaved a defeated sigh. “You come by all this information so effortlessly, and me and my people just seem to be perpetually fumbling in the dark, grasping at straws and trying to weave them into a tapestry of where we came from. …but there are still so many holes. Ameridan was one of ours, and we didn’t even know. It wasn’t just the humans who erased him, we forgot. How could that happen?”

“Seeking knowledge in the Fade is hardly effortless,” Solas reminded her, trailing his fingers along her cheek. “And, considering the violent end the Orlesians wrought upon the Elvhen kingdom, it is not wholly surprising that they would spurn someone who had once been close with the Emperor whose son destroyed their homeland.”

“But he was a hero!” Aili protested ardently. “An elf and a mage! And before I joined the Inquisition, I’d never even heard his name. It isn’t right.”

“Such is the way of history, Vhenan,” he said heavily.

“And…the same thing will happen to me?”

Solas took a moment to study her face, her noticeably elven features, the exotic shade of her eyes, the vallaslin swirling across her brow and chin. He thought of Ameridan, and Shartan, their forgotten stories and hacked-off ears. And that wasn’t even that long ago, by his standards. He thought of Elvhenan, their words and stories and traditions. All gone. All lost. His people were little more than ghosts, the pale memories of a dream. If he wanted a reminder that the steady march of time changed people’s perceptions, he need only look into a mirror. It was unlikely that history would be any kinder to her than it had been to him.

“It is…a distinct possibility,” he admitted heavily.

Aili's expression soured further.

"I don't care about renown," she muttered, "I don't care about getting invited to fancy parties, or offered expensive gifts as signs of friendship from people I've never even met. I don't care about nobles and games and political power. I don't care about any of that. I never did."

She pulled in a deep shaky breath.

"But…if this is something I have to do… If the 'Inquisitor' is who I have to be, then I want to be seen as what I am. I want people to remember where I came from. I know it would be naïve to think they'd get everything right, but to know my home and my race…" she gave him a worried glance, "Is that really too impossible to hope for?"

"It is rare enough for someone who knows us to see us as we truly are," Solas replied apologetically, "Facts become stories. Lines blur, words change with each retelling, shifting things into whatever the listeners need to hear. It is the way real people with flaws and failings are honed into heroes. And villains. Many people who have met you will speak of you as you are, but there are plenty of those who already do not approve of the idea that Andraste's chosen might be an elf. A Dalish elf, of all things. The Chantry has always told them that your people are despised by Maker, after all."

"He's not too crazy about mages either," Aili grumbled, "I have been reminded several times by numerous people that I am basically unpalatable on every possible front."

"Not to me," Solas told her with a faint smile, "I am sorry to be incapable of offering much in the way of comfort on this particular topic, however. I do not wish to lie to you."

"I wouldn't ask you to," Aili sighed, though her melancholy seemed to have abated somewhat. She shook her head slightly, as if to shake away the remnants of her solemnity, scattering raindrops in the process, and finally rose to her feet.

She took both of his hands in hers, smiling up at him with a distinct playfulness.

"So, if I am to be the new Ameridan, does that make you my Telana?" she wondered, "She was an elvhen Dreamer, just as you are. You must admit, there are an astounding amount of parallels. What strange fortunes the Creators weave for us all."

"A morbid thought indeed, considering their fates," Solas hummed. "I certainly hope we fare better than they did."

"It wouldn't take much," Aili noted dryly. "Although, I admit, I have a hard time picturing you allowing yourself to bleed out just so you could try and find me in the Fade. You are far too practical."

She gave his fingers a squeeze. Teasing.

"Oh?" Solas returned lightly, "I think you might be surprised. You are much harder to do without than you imagine."

“Sweet talker,” Aili grinned, stepping into his arms and shivering a little from the cool dampness of their clothing. “But regardless of how similar we might seem to the former Inquisitor and his paramour, we already have a decided advantage over them.”

“Is that so?” Solas asked softly, smiling down at her in turn.

“It is,” she insisted, going up on her tiptoes to plant a light kiss on his chin, “Because I have already decided that our story is going to have a happy ending.”

A few heartbeats of silence passed between them; with nothing to be heard but the hiss of rain and the sound of approaching thunder. It would be storming in earnest in a few minutes. The night painted strange shadows across her lover’s face, and Aili began to feel the faintest prickle of doubt low in her gut.

“Solas?”

“Forgive me,” he answered a moment later, shaking his head slightly as though to rid himself of his thoughts, “I fear my mind slips too easily toward melancholy. Thinking only on the ways something precious might be lost robs us of the pleasures of the present. It does no good to dwell on such things.”

“It’s alright,” Aili said, reaching up to softly touch his cheek, “With a hole in the sky and some crazy darkspawn Magister on the loose, I can see why you might be having problems being optimistic about the future.”

“I am afraid that I am not an overly optimistic person, even if the current factors were removed from the equation,” he admitted ruefully. He allowed himself to lean into her touch, closing his eyes briefly and letting out a long breath. “I suppose that is something else I should work on. I would like…to look towards the days ahead and see the same kinds of possibilities that you do.”

“Well, wanting those possibilities is the first step, don’t you think?” she asked, a smile returning to her face, “If this were the Fade, we could simply will such a future into existence.”

"Unfortunately, such blatant displays of power tend to attract the attention of demons," Solas replied with a faint smirk.

Aili heaved an exaggerated sigh, but her eyes were bright with amusement.

"You know, I am beginning to think that Bull might have a fair point about them," her smile twitched up into a smirk, "They always seem to ruin the best dreams."

"Not all of them," he answered in kind, his face dipping perilously close to her own, "Once, not so long ago, I dreamt of Haven as it had been before Corypheus and his army came. The sky was bright and clear, and the snow was crisp and cool against my skin. I met a spirit who was seeking knowledge, and the truth of their purpose and the earnestness of their resolve shone with such a fierce intensity that for one moment I thought it might have blinded me. I dared not look away, however, for such spirits are rare indeed, and I feared that if I averted my gaze, even for an instant, I might turn back and find that it had gone."

He kissed her then, deep and soft and warm. Not as desperate or hurried as he had during the dream of Haven, but still somehow just as hungry. Wrapping her up in his arms and pulling her close until even the raindrops had a hard time finding the space to fall between them.

When he finally pulled back enough to let her breathe, Aili was rosy-cheeked and slightly rumpled. Her eyes shone up at him out of the darkness like a pair of gemstones, her smile wide and knowing. Any trace of worry momentarily banished by the sheer force of her affections.

"Am I really so much like a spirit?" she wondered jokingly, "Or have you just been getting romantic tips from Varric again? Should I see if Cole can teach me his trick of disappearing from people's minds? I can think of a few situations where that would be incredibly useful. Most of them involve dodging Orlesian nobles and their inane gossip."

Solas snorted.

"If I was in need of romantic guidance, I am afraid Master Tethras would not be anywhere near my first choice of solicitor," he informed her with a low chuckle, "As for the other questions, I do believe that you share more similarities with Cole than you might suspect. They are…not easy to explain in simple terms, however. But bright and shining as you are, your own concept of yourself is attached to your physical form, so I fear you would have a difficult time disappearing from view."

"That sounds an awful lot like a challenge to me," she laughed, leaning back into him, mischievous intent written clearly into her expression.

"Hardly," Solas huffed with a particular mix of exasperated fondness that Aili always seemed to inspire. His arms tightened on her after a moment, a touch of seriousness seeping back into his voice. "Besides which, I would greatly prefer that you did not disappear from view."

“Ah, well, if that’s really what you want,” she grinned, cupping his face to guide him down towards her mouth. She stopped just shy of kissing him, eyes as bright as lodestars cutting through the haze of night and rain. She nearly did look like a spirit.

“I supposed you’d better catch me, then.”

That was all the warning she afforded him before her form flashed with the blue-white glow of magic, and she fade-stepped a few dozen feet away onto another enormous tree limb. Rift magic was not Aili’s area of expertise, and her aim was…less than precise. She wobbled slightly on the branch, and Solas called out to her in wordless distress, hurriedly employing the same technique she had used to chase after her.

He had barely closed his hand around her forearm before she shifted away again, leaving a nothing but a hazy blue outline in her wake and laughing all the while.

“You’ll have to do better than that, Solas!” Aili called back to him.

“Vhenan, it is raining!” Solas complained.

A great boom of thunder and a blinding crackle of lightning chased after the sound of his voice.

“It’s not raining, it’s storming!” Aili corrected him blithely, still popping in and out of view across the canopy of trees surrounding the campsite. “But you can go back inside the tent if you’re not having any fun!”

“Why are you always doing things like this?” he asked with a sharp exhale of breath, “We both know you are going to catch cold and spend the next three days sneezing on me.”

“You like it!” Aili giggled, fade-stepping close enough to make him lunge for her and slipping away again before he could grab hold. “It keeps you on your toes. It’s good for you.”

“And,” she continued from a far-off tree limb, “If you are really so concerned about me getting sick, maybe you should hurry up and take me someplace warm before the chill sets in.”

Solas sighed again, resigned to the fact that in order for either of them to get back to bed in the near future, he was going to have to play along with her. As usual.

“Then you should ready yourself, Inquisitor,” he said as the magic he deftly pulled from the Fade washed him in its pale blue light. Aili paused her own furtive dance just long enough to grin back at him, brighter than a flash of lightning. And then the game was on.

Her mastery of the spell was less than perfect, but what she lacked in aptitude, she made up for with unbridled enthusiasm. He had more experience, but she was unpredictable, doubling back and pushing the limits of how far the magic would carry her. What had begun with unrepentant teasing on her end, and a prickle of aggravation on his, soon became a buoyant chase rife with genuine merriment that not even Solas could hold himself back from. In this moment, they were light and free and fearless. Their mingled laughter bubbled over the sounds of the storm, bare toes slipping on wet moss and leaves as the two of them weaved through the darkness of the canopy like a pair of fireflies. Skin luminous with magic and the fierce joy of living. The wonder of loving. Dazzling as the lightning torn sky, and twice as fleeting.

It nearly felt like a dream of the days before. When there was no Veil. No Blight. And his name was not quite so synonymous with villainy.

He almost did not want it to end.

It did, of course, as all things must. Aili’s foot slipped. Solas materialized behind her a half second later, pulling her to his chest before she began to fall in earnest. She spun in his embrace, flung her arms about his neck, and kissed him like she was drowning. She was freezing cold and sopping wet, and it was absolutely glorious.

He was less disappointed with this ending than anticipated.

“Vhenan,” he murmured against her lips as Aili seemed to do her level best to pull the very air from his lungs, “I am not opposed to continuing- Mmph! -continuing this, but perhaps we should return to our tent first?”

“Too far,” Aili informed him breathlessly, her thin icy fingers working their way up the back of his linen shirt, making him hiss at the cold, “Much too far.”

Solas chuckled despite himself, doing his best to guide her farther away from the edge of the branch they had landed on and back toward the relative safety of the tree’s trunk. Aili did not make it easy, clinging to him like a lamprey and doing everything in her power to wriggle her way beneath his clothing, even while continuing to kiss him senseless. Their footsteps were awkward and bumbling in the semidarkness, tripping and sliding along in a highly undignified manner, but it was hard to care when it was just the two of them. Both still riding high on the thrill of their pretend hunt, eager to be close and touching. Here, in the shelter of the trees and the cover of night, there was nothing but the sounds of the storm beyond the veil of leaves, the rain singing out like a lover’s sigh, and the thunder mimicking their racing heartbeats.

It felt almost like a shrine; ethereal and divine. It smelled crisp and fresh as water, and newly churned earth. A pair of lovers painted with the sapphire shades of midnight sifting through the leaves. A place of devotion and worship meant solely for them.

Aili’s skin was still cold, but everything between them was almost unbearably warm. She fell back against the moss-covered wood of the tree’s trunk with a dull thud, tugging him after her. He cupped her face between his hands as he kissed her, soft and desperate. The dripping locks of her hair spilling over his fingers like liquid silver. She laughed into his mouth as he pressed himself flush against her, feeling the firmness of his apparent desire caught between them.

“I see you have finally run out of objections,” she noted, utterly delighted.

“I am certain I could locate a few more, if I tried,” Solas quipped, but his tone was deep and melting, his mouth blazing a warm trail of lingering nips and kisses along the column of her throat. His threat hardly seemed sincere. The sound he made when she unlaced his breeches and reached for him seemed honest enough, however.

“Probably,” she hummed, running her fingers over him with firm practiced movements, “But as the Inquisitor, my schedule is very busy, you know. I’m afraid I currently have my hands full dealing with one of my most trusted advisors, so, unfortunately, your objections will have to wait.”

“Would you prefer it if I submitted them to you in writing, instead?” he wondered, pausing just long enough to suck a dark bruise just below her ear, and tugging her leggings down over her hips.

“Absolutely not,” Aili hissed, scraping her teeth across the place where his collar bones peeked out from beneath the damp fabric of his shirt, “I enjoy the sound of your voice, even when you are complaining. Everything you have to tell me should be done face to face, when possible.”

Her skin was slick with rain, and when he slipped his fingers into her, Solas found that she was already slick there, too. Her grip tightened on him and she gasped, rocking her hips against his hand as he groaned into her hair. Struggling to stay upright.

“And you would have me, even here?” Solas asked softly, his voice thick with want and catching just a bit with an air of wonder.

“Geography hardly has anything to do with it,” Aili snorted, making a brave attempt to somehow keep touching him while also wriggling the rest of the way out of her pants. When she at last got them down to her claves, she raised a knee and Solas obligingly pulled them the rest of the way off over her leg, leaving her free to hitch it up over his hip. He leaned his full weight into her as he continued to thrust into her touch, moving to grip her thigh and hold her to him, keeping her close enough to count the damp lashes around her bright eyes. She hummed in approval, biting at his lower lip, egging him on. “You see me as I truly am, and I have it on good authority that that makes you a precious commodity.”

“Precious, am I?” he said it with a laugh, but there was a softness in his eyes.

“Unique in all the world,” she insisted confidently, “Which means you should be cherished at every available opportunity.”

He crooked his fingers as he moved them inside of her, and she moaned loud enough to echo through the trees, despite the storm around them.

“As should you, my heart,” he told her, his lips pulled up into a self-satisfied grin.

“Then I suggest we talk less, and cherish more,” Aili rasped out, taking his face in both of her hands and kissing him savagely. Solas met her fervor with equal passion, but not so much that he surrendered his entire mind to it, though it was sorely tempting. One of them had to make sure they did not fall out of the tree, after all.

He grasped her other thigh, lifting her up as she hooked her legs around his waist, her pants still dangling from one ankle. His back was still chilled, exposed to scattered gusts of wind and sprays of rainfall from the leaves above them, but every place their bodies met was nearly burning. Even their breaths mingled together in little visible puffs of warmth that the storm could not subdue.

She moved her hands to his shoulders, digging her fingers into the wet linen with enough force to tear. He rolled his hips against her a few times, trying to find the proper angle to slide home. The sweater she had stolen from him had slipped back down when he had moved his hands away, blocking him from her. Solas nearly let out a curse.

“Ma ghilana,” he breathed against her ear instead, deep and hoarse and close to begging.

Aili seemed past the point of being capable of speech, her head bobbed once in understanding before she turned her face to kiss him again. Her left arm snaked its way about his neck, anchoring, while the other reach down between them, scrabbling at the sodden cloth still sticking to their skin, and doing her best to guide him to the place she wanted him most.

When he felt the silken heat of her against the tip of his cock, Solas paused. He knew Aili did not mind a bit of roughness, but he had his limits. Their position was precarious, and she was not as prepared for him as she could be. He could tell she wanted this, and he would not deny her, but he would not hurt her either, so he took a moment to breathe.

He entered her in a single smooth slow stroke. Aili gasped into his mouth, gripping him fiercely and attempting to drag him impossibly closer. He kept his cool, though, holding them both as still and steady as possible until he was certain they were not about to slip, and he knew without a doubt that she was ready for more.

He could feel their hearts hammering in tandem, frantic and heady as the chase that had brought them here.

“Move,” Aili demanded after a few moments, rocking herself into him as best she could and biting at his lips again.

Solas moved.

His hips snapped, and his fingers gripped tight enough to bruise. His face dropped to the crook of her neck, and he filled his lungs with the heathery smell of her every time he drew breath. It was grounding, and marvelous, and real. More than any dream he could have conjured.

Aili fought to give as good as she got. Her range of movement was limited, but she pressed herself into him with everything she had. Meeting him at every thrust. She mapped him with her hands, raking her fingernails across his shoulder blades and digging into the muscles of his biceps. She sunk her teeth into the soft meat of his earlobe, and was treated to a low rumbling moan.

It felt as though she had poured liquid fire into his ear. It burned a path from his head straight down to the pit of hist stomach, setting him alight like a spark amidst tinder. He nearly came right then.

“Aili,” he panted, and this time he truly was pleading, although he couldn’t say for what. She clenched around him, and his rhythm stuttered, nearly sending him to his knees. But he would not let it end this way. He would not take his pleasure first.

Solas hefted her higher up the tree, slightly changing the angle of her hips, and the next time he drove into her, he was rewarded with a high breathless keen of ecstasy. Her back bowed, and her head tipped back, mouth moving in a silent litany as she crested the wave of her climax. She slumped into him afterwards, shuddering and boneless, and still trying to kiss him. He was so close to his own end that his magic felt like it was simmering beneath his skin, longing for the same release that he did.

Aili made a soft sound of not-quite discomfort, and he stilled.

“Just a little tender,” she whispered tiredly, guiding his lips back to hers, “Keep going.”

Solas did as he was bidden, keeping the angle she preferred, but slowing his tempo. The storm was finally beginning to recede, and his fervor seemed to ebb with it, turning more towards savoring. She was warm in his arms now, the little hitched breaths and contented sighs slipping past her lips blending perfectly with the gentle hiss of rainfall the surrounded them.

He pressed another kiss into the curve of her neck. Admiring the strong steady beating of her heart beneath his lips. She called his name softly, and he came undone. It hit him unexpectedly hard, a bright burst of light behind his eyes as his whole body quaked with the force of it. Gasping for air and suddenly almost giddy. The dizzying delight of letting go.

He carefully set her down, and there were a few awkward moments of rearranging stiff and somewhat bruised limbs. She slipped her arms around his waist to keep him close, and he leaned back into her, his nose buried in her hair and his lips resting against her forehead. They stood together in silence for a while, simply enjoying the quite sounds of the nighttime forest and the comfort of a lover’s touch.

“At least…” Aili began quietly, but then paused, as if suddenly unsure. Solas brushed his fingers across her cheek. She leaned into him and sighed, finding her resolve. “I was thinking that… Even if no one else remembers me as I am, at least I would know that you do. You’ve never put me up on some pedestal. You know that I am Dalish, and an elf, and a mage. You know that I try with all my heart to make choices that are fair and benefit as many people as I can, but I make mistakes. Big ones, sometimes. You know that I hate oysters, and I’m always tripping on things, and stealing desserts from the kitchen. You know that I’m silly enough to play tag in the rain at night.”

She peered up at him with open sincerity, her eyes flecked with the stars just beginning to peek through the canopy above them.

“And you know that I love you,” she continued, her fingers reaching up to touch his chin with a soft air of devotion. “You will remember that, won’t you?”

Solas kissed her. Tender and aching, like a fist closing around his speeding heart. He squeezed her hands, pressing his eyes shut against a faint pinprick of tears.

“Forever,” he promised.

Aili beamed at him.

“Come on, we should probably head back to camp before they send out a search party,” she said, moving past him just enough to begin the process of pulling her leggings back on. “I…think your sweater might be in need of a wash, though.”

Solas laughed.

“Then I supposed we are fortunate that it is raining.”

#solavellan #solas x lavellan #solas #lavellan #Aili Lavellan #fic #citrus #thar be SMUT here laddies!#GOD this took forever #gonna have a glass of wine now #because I EARNED IT DARN IT

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wizardofozymandias · 4 years ago

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14 Days of DA Lovers, Prompt 1: Wildflowers

Written for the @14daysdalovers prompt event.

Prompt: Wildflowers

Pairing: Solas/Female Lavellan

Characters: Nessa Lavellan, Cole

Summary: After speaking with the spirit of Telana, lover of the last Inquisitor, Nessa Lavellan brings an offering to Ghilan’nain and considers the loss of her own lover. (Here be angst.)

“Will you wait for me, just a moment?” Nessa asked.

“Of course,” Dorian replied.

She turned back to the island. The place was known as the Lady’s Rest. Nessa only hoped that the spirit who had lingered there so long would at last be able to find her rest.

No doubt Professor Kenric and Colette would be overjoyed to learn what Nessa and the others had found on the island. But the Inquisitor was growing weary of visiting the graves of her people.

Nessa drew a knife from her belt and knelt to cut the stems of poppies. The flowers grew abundantly at the crumbling corners of the house that sheltered Telana’s remains. She also gathered lupines that grew in the field nearby. Her clan might be lost forever, but Nessa was no less a First.

That evening, while the others were occupied at the camp, Nessa slipped away. The veilfire torch cast an eerie glow on the twin altars. The sight of Andraste raised up beside Ghilan’nain made Nessa feel a little sick. She could not imagine marrying her own beliefs to those of the Chantry. She wondered what had brought Ameridan to do such a thing. Perhaps pressure from a friend? She thought unhappily of Cassandra’s question months ago: “Could you not find room for one more god?”

Reaching into her pack, Nessa drew out the flowers she had gathered earlier. She placed them on Ghilan’nain’s altar, hoping that the gentle Mother of the Halla would accept the offering on Telana’s behalf. With a silent spell, Nessa set fire to the plants, watching the trails of smoke wind up through the chill air.

“You are sad,” a quiet voice came from beside her.

Nessa shied back. Her torch revealed Cole standing near Andraste’s altar.

She raised a hand to her cheek, realizing that tears had traced a path there.

“I suppose that’s true,” she murmured. “Telana’s story was not a happy one.”

“You brought flowers for her,” Cole observed.

“An offering to Ghilan’nain. It seemed the least I could do for her.”

“You want to help her, but her story has ended. Help her, help yourself, spirit lost, wandering, waiting for her lover, vhenan, I’m dreaming, banal’abelas, banal vhenan.”

Nessa felt her heart trying to pound its way out of her chest. Hearing Telana’s heartbroken words bleeding into her own only made their shared pain clearer. Her words at Crestwood, harsher than she had meant, torn from her in the wake of so many other losses.

She was Ameridan, and she was Telana, caught in the stranglehold of destiny.

But Nessa’s own lover had abandoned her. Why, Ameridan, why? Telana’s spirit had pleaded.

That was the question Nessa so desperately wanted Solas to answer. Why not this one? Anger and sick sorrow twisted in Nessa’s gut.

Telana had stayed by Ameridan’s side until he left her behind to die alone. Was that what Solas feared? His gravestone in the Fade had said as much. Perhaps that was her answer, after all. Perhaps he feared the fate of the last Dreamer who had followed in the footsteps of the Chantry’s Inquisitor.

“I’ve spent too much time thinking about my own problems,” Nessa said. “I guess looking for the last Inquisitor has me worrying about what sort of death comes with the job.”

“You did what you could,” Cole said.

“It’s not enough. It never is. Too little too late.” She couldn’t stop the Breach, couldn’t save her clan, couldn’t even make Solas stay.

“But you gave her flowers.”

“Mourning flowers. Poppies for remembrance and lupines to ward the Dread Wolf away. Maybe one day someone will lay flowers on June’s altar for me.”

#14dalovers #14 days of dragon age lovers prompt events #day 1 wildflowers #dragon age inquisition #my writing #fanfiction #dragon age #nessa lavellan #cole #solavellan #solasmance #post crestwood #ozy writes #prompts #solessa

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doctormage · 4 years ago

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ok as promised here's my whole thedosian astrology spiral in one big post

underneath a read more bc i love you all

starting w my tags from the first post bc context:

#bc i saw a post that put the zodiac seasons (for thedas) roughly from the 20th of one month to the 20th of the next #like it is irl #but the zodiac seasons coincide w the actual seasons #the start of aries season is the vernal equinox #the start of cancer season is the summer solstice #the start of libra season is the autumnal equinox #the start of capricorn season is the winter solstice #and (to my knowledge??) the seasons in thedas start with their annum holidays or whatever #wintersend = beginning of spring #summerday = beginning of summer #all souls day = beginning of fall #satinalia = beginning of winter #(someone PLEASE correct me if im wrong on that) #well i know summerday and satinalia are right but #ANYWAY #using that logic the zodiac seasons would also start on those days #thedas-aries season would run from the 1st to the 30th of guardian #thedas-taurus would be 1-30 drakonis #thedas-gemini would be 1-30 cloudreach #so that thedas-cancer aka the start of summer aka summerday aka THE FIRST OF BLOOMINGTIDE #kSLFdfslkdFDKs #anyway. now i have to be Right about this#my previous hyperfixation and my current one.....coming together....to make me into a Massive Bitch<3

when would the zodiac signs' seasons take place in the thedosian calendar?

so bc the zodiac signs are based on constellations and all the lore etc that accompanies them i'm not even gonna touch that (YET.....yet...) but since spring, summer, autumn, and winter start on the first days of guardian, bloomingtide, august, and firstfall, respectively, so would those particular seasons of the zodiac

thedas-equivalent-of-aries season would just be 1-30 guardian, bc irl the beginning of aries season coincides with the beginning of spring and continues until the sun moves into taurus; all the cardinal signs (aries, cancer, libra, capricorn) begin on the first of the season like that, so we can assume that – IF there are 12 zodiac signs in thedas – the sun is in each sign for approximately a month. so that in 3 months the next cardinal sign can coincide w the beginning of that season

imo it makes sense that (if we're assuming thedas also has 12 signs and that their sun spends roughly equal time in all of them) four of them would coincide w the beginning of the seasons. so like yeah thedas is fake and for all we know they have 10 zodiac signs and they all start on wildly different days, but then everything is just shooting in the dark and where's the fun in that. obviously the changing of the seasons is important to them bc their holidays center around them, therefore i don't think it's wildly out of the blue to think that whatever star sign system they have going on would similarly coincide w the changing seasons

again i'm not currently bothering with picking constellations/symbols/stories/traits/etc for each sign so i'll just say first, second, third etc. point being the seasons of the zodiac would actually be like they are below, rather than how they are irl (aka the 20th-ish of each month to the 20th-ish of the next; it's like that irl bc our calendar is stupid and the beginning of the seasons randomly happens 2/3 of the way thru the month):

first sign = begins spring, 1-30 guardian

second sign ≈ 1-30 drakonis

third sign ≈ 1-30 cloudreach

fourth sign = begins summer, 1-30 bloomingtide

fifth sign ≈ 1-30 justinian

sixth sign ≈ 1-30 solace

seventh sign = begins autumn, 1-30 august

eighth sign ≈ 1-30 kingsway

ninth sign ≈ 1-30 harvestmere

tenth sign = begins winter, 1-30 firstfall

eleventh sign ≈ 1-30 haring

twelfth sign ≈ 1-30 wintermarch

okay so we have cardinal signs, what about fixed and mutable signs?

the cardinal signs are CALLED the cardinal signs bc they begin the seasons; they're the ~get up and goers~ of the zodiac, motivated, leaders, trail blazers, energetic, etc. they litchrally bring in the changes of the season so that makes sense right

so IF we are to continue w that logic — and here's where i'm getting (even more) conjecture-y, but i feel p confident that since 4 of the 5 major holidays in thedas are based on the changing seasons aka thats important — then the traits of the thedas-equivalent of those signs would also have similarities to the irl cardinal signs (namely the traits listed above)

but there are also FIXED signs and MUTABLE signs: so called bc fixed signs are firmly planted in the middle of each season (taurus in spring, leo in summer, scorpio in autumn, aquarius in winter) and bc mutable signs precede the major change from one season to the next (gemini from spring to summer, virgo from summer to autumn, sagittarius from autumn to winter, pisces from winter-to-spring)

and again bc these are based on the seasons, it also makes sense to me that, generally speaking, the signs in the middle and at the end of the seasons would also be distinct in some way. and probably have similarities to irl fixed and mutable signs, tho i'm not as obstinate about that as i am abt the cardinal signs. but anyway MOVING ON

[the one section with the fan-made sky map ended up being relatively useless even tho the sky map was in fact very cool]

general disclaimer that at this point i’m literally just. straight up guessing lmao

also since we only have so many constellations we see in-game, and since they each come with a codex giving us at least a little background info (aka CRUMBS), any suggestions of which constellations are part of the zodiac are based on those specifically. obviously in real life theres a bazillion constellations that aren’t part of the zodiac, but we do not have the luxury of knowing every constellation in thedas so i am going with what we got

the thedosian constellation map (the canon one) is different than the fan-made sky map, but because i highly doubt anyone at bioware could’ve predicted someone would be As Insane As I Am Being Right Now about it, i don’t think they probably put a lot of thought into making it lmao. the fan made sky map DID have thought put into it tho, and it actually features the constellations we see in-game, so i’m going w that one ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

AND. i’m gonna look at the names of the months (both the fancy ancient tevinter names and the ~low/common~ names) in comparison w the constellations we have at our disposal bc why the fuck wouldn’t they be related in some way. this has no basis in any deeper logic than “maybe the fact that the ‘common’ name for this month is drakonis has somethinng to do with the constellation draconis idfk” but like. it’s literally the same name but with one letter (that makes the same sound) changed. i don’t think i’m asking too much here lmao

signs that start the seasons

wintersend is canonically associated with the old god urthemiel; the codex entry for the constellation bellitanus states it (is believed that it) was originally associated with urthemiel. using the same reasoning as with satinalis/satinalia, i’m gonna assume that bellitanus-as-a-zodiac-season would start with wintersend and last through the whole of guardian

summerday was once called andoralis, dedicated to the old god andoral; the codex entry for the constellation servani states it is thought to be representative of andoral, but where the wiki says andoral is the god of unity, the codex says andoral was the god of slaves. (doesn’t clarify if andoral is like, a figure to which the enslaved would turn to in their plight, as like a savior? or whether andoral is...just associated with slaves in some way.) i have no idea what the fuck to do w that except assume bioware is back on their bullshit! i’m gonna come back to this later

all soul’s day was once funalis, dedicated to dumat, old god of silence; the codex entry for the constellation silentir (which literally means ‘silence’ lmao) is usually said to represent dumat. so by this logic we might say the zodiac season for silentir begins with all soul’s day and ends with the last day of august

the constellation satinalis is canonically associated with satinalia, so it makes sense to me that if satinalis is part of the zodiac, its season would start with satinalia / last through the month in which the holiday takes place. aka firstfall

with these in mind, we have (tentatively) 3 of our 4 cardinal signs aka the signs that begin the seasons: bellitanus for spring, silentir for autumn, and satinalis for winter

looking at the fan-made sky map, these aren’t super evenly spaced apart (but then again neither are irl constellations perfectly proportioned so whatever!) HOWEVER. they do still, at least vaguely 😭, follow a clockwise pattern in the correct order of guardian/spring → summerday/bloomingtide → all soul’s day/august → satinalia/firstfall. it’s about the small victories ok *inquisitor ameridan voice* take moments of happiness where you find them or whatever

what about the other 8 signs???

great question!!! haha!!!

✨I Am Once Again About To Start Guessing Wildly✨

because even tho the “cardinal signs” go clockwise and in order, there’s still an uneven amount of constellations BETWEEN them. there should be 2 between each but, for example, silentir and satinalis only have tenebrium between them. and there are fucking....TEN constellations between satinalis and bellitanus so we’re going to have to get even more creative somehow<3 lmao these are all taken from the codex entries for the constellations (the names are links!)

TOTH: tevinter old god of fire, thats p much it. the codex does say sometimes toth is depicted as a “flaming orb” which maybe i truly have succumbed to the brain worms but i hear ‘orb’ and ‘god’ and ‘flame’ (aka light/energy/etc or perhaps idk a fucking explosion) and yall already know where my dumb ass is going w that 🥴

since the rules are made up and the points dont matter, i have decided Fuck Bioware, toth is going with summerday now. i dont give a rats ass about andoral since apparently they dont care to tell us what he was actually god of, so welcome toth you are now in charge of the beginning of summer bc i said so

TENEBRIUM: associated with lusacan, tevinter old god of darkess/night. also obvious associations with falon’din, elven god of death, whose sacred animal is an owl

pea brain analysis: its dark in winter lol; slightly larger, maybe lima-bean-sized brain analysis: the beginning of a new year (aka first day aka first of wintermarch) could hypothetically be associated w the past ‘dying.’ and also the holiday was originally an annual check to make sure everyone was alive, so i don’t see why gods of death can’t be associated w making sure all your loved ones weren’t taken by said god of death lol

ELUVIA: commonly called “sacrifice,” it’s (apparently) based on an orlesian tale in which a woman is saved from a “””lustful mage””” (i love bioware i love this frachise) by being placed in the sky and becoming a constellation. before this inspiring tale that is definitely not anti mage propaganda, eluvia may have represented razikale, tevinter old god of mystery. the imagery of this constellation is a seated woman with a cloud right above her - literally like her head is in the clouds (also bc it sounds like ‘eluvian’ i’m like 👀)

i’m inclined to pair this one up with cloudreach both bc the ancient tevinter name is “eluviesta” and bc the woman in the story is literally. in the clouds. simple enough

PERAQUIALUS: it’s a boat! but apparently a “primitive vessel” sailed by ancient peoples like the neromenians. according to the codex the translation is usually ‘across the sea’ rather than ‘boat’ but that doesnt rly help me lol

sorry my beloved. before me stand 10 beautiful constellations but i only have 9 pictures in my hands. you are not thedas’s next top zodiac sign

DRACONIS: obviously its a dragon lol

i think the drakonis (the month) / draconis (this constellation) correlation is. pretty evident lmao and since we have all but thrown credible hypothesizing out the window, why NOT?? why not make drakonis the season of draconis!!! 🤡

FERVENIAL: an oak; some believe it could be representative of andruil, elven goddess of the hunt, as the vir tanadhal (“way of the three trees”) is her whole thing

sigh idk *spins wheel* leaves start changing color in mid-late autumn so *spins wheel again* fervenial can go with harvestmere which is thedas-october it’s fine

JUDEX: a big ol sword, sometimes called the “sword of mercy,” referring to pre-andrastian concepts of justice in ancient tevinter

speaking of pulling ideas right out of my ass, if this constellation is associated w justice it makes sense to me that its season would be in the month of justinian. bc again why the fuck not!

EQUINOR: the stallion / a horse, sometimes depicted as a seated griffon. some speculate the original imagery was a halla, linking the constellation to the elven god ghilan’nain aka “mother of the halla”

i am really grasping at straws here HAHA but the word haring (as a gerund/present participle of the verb ‘hare’) can mean to run or go with great speed. horses go fast, ghilan’nain is invoked when elves want to travel quickly, blah blah blah. whatever

SOLIUM: the sun; one interpretation is that it indicates an ancient fascination with ALL objects in the sky (aka both the sun and moon[s]), another interpretation associates it with the elven god elgar’nan, aka “eldest of the sun”

alright i know the name ‘solas’ means pride in elvhen and the word ‘solace’ means like comfort/consolation, neither of which have jack shit to do with the sun, so i shouldn’t assume solis is associated with solium exclusively bc they start with ‘sol’ and sol means sun in...a lot of irl languages lol HOWEVER. i have an even worse reasoning we can fall back on which is that it’s in summer and it’s...fucking sunny??? LMAO im so sorry

FENRIR: the white wolf 👁👄👁 scholars apparently dont know wtf to do w this one; obviously there is a case to be made about its association with fen’harel

i have talked myself in circles on this one but whenever i try to type it out it makes Zero Fucking Sense lmao so. i may come back and edit this but for now just know it’s going with kingsway and i want yall to know i do have some stupid nebulous reasoning for that in my silly little brain but communicating it is simply not in the cards for me today god bless 🙏

alright so what bullshit have you proposed at the end of all this EXTREMELY shaky guesswork, queen?

HERE YOU GO I GUESS

Bellitanus: begins spring, 1-30 Guardian

Draconis: 1-30 Drakonis

Eluvia: 1-30 Cloudreach

Toth: begins summer, 1-30 Bloomingtide

Judex: 1-30 Justinian

Solium: 1-30 Solace

Silentir: begins autumn, 1-30 August

Fenrir: 1-30 Kingsway

Fervenial: 1-30 Harvestmere

Satinalis: begins winter, 1-30 Firstfall

Equinor: 1-30 Haring

Tenebrium: 1-30 Wintermarch

next time i have a death wish i will come back and speculate what kind of traits would be associated w these signs (based on the ~lore~ surrounding the constellations, their tentative places as cardinal/fixed/mutable, etc) but i just wasted precious hours of my life on this and i cant look at it anymore!!!

also want to reiterate that, regarding the post i saw earlier that i disagreed with, my refutation of that argument ended like 2 reblogs many sections ago lol. the only thing i feel confident defending is that the different seasons of the zodiac would – based on the actual changing 4 seasons – start on the first of each month and end on the last day of each month, as opposed to the way it is in real life western astrology

all this other bullshit is just for fun (??? i guess????) and based ALMOST entirely on my own assumptions. informed by actual shit from the games ofc but mainly me just

EDIT: would like to add that i don't have world of thedas or any other supplementary shit; all i have at my disposal is the 3 games, their DLCs, and the wiki lol. so if there's anything here that WOT (or smth else) contradicts please lmk! and also sorry for any typos lmao

hope yall enjoyed witnessing this fully unhinged moment w me bye<3

#da #astro #thedas astrology #i'll delete all the other ones later

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secretsfromwholecloth · 4 years ago

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Dragon Age: Inquisition, day 26.

Note to self: Letting Storvacker out of her cage during rather than after the fight against her Hakkonite captors = hilarity. Make a habit of this.

Go home, Sigrid. The only home or family Anchoret has anymore is at Skyhold, she’ll be very cross with you if you squander yours.

“It’s nice to be remembered.” Oh, Cole.

Weh, Telana.

Especially in light of the dual shrine to Andraste and Ghilan’nain, Anchoret is having some very large feelings. It’s...kind of reassuring, in a way? But also kind of dismaying. And mostly very confusing.

Trail marker, trail marker, trail marker, whee.

So I’m doing That One Fight just outside the Hakkonite fortress, and the companions all came along voluntarily! I didn’t need to walk a single one over to the enemy manually! It’s amazing! I’d note what I did for next time, but I’m honestly not sure!

Right. Old Temple time. Let’s do this.

Glorious fun was clearly had writing Gurd Harofsen’s invocation—regular old trochaic tetrameter in rhymed couplets, of course, but also doing its best to imitate the structure and style of alliterative verse at the same time.

Glorious fun was also clearly had by the VA delivering it.

Huh. I was not expecting Gurd to go down that easily. I only switched control to Dorian halfway through the fight, and that out of convenience more than anything; Cole needed a couple of healing potions, but other than that everyone got through it OK.

“I am glad Drakon’s friendship with our people has remained strong.” Uh, buddy, you may want to sit down for some of this.

So yeah, our girl is having a really extraordinarily large pile of feelings. About Ameridan’s identity, his views on religion, his friendship with Drakon, and of course the erasure of the whole “elf mage” thing.

And Hakkon time. I’m not especially worried, to be honest. Here, dragon dragon dragon.

Well, that could’ve been cleaner—Dorian got sat on and needed a manual revive, for one—but it wasn’t too bad.

Harding. <3

So, would recruiting Storvacker be too mean to Cullen? Hm.

...nah. Let’s do this. Enjoy your new agent, dear.

And you know what, this is a good place to pack it in, I��ll start Trespasser tomorrow.

#dragon age #dragon age: inquisition #anchoret lavellan

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pikapeppa · 5 years ago

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Fenris/f!Hawke and the Inquisition: Ameridan

Chapter 52 of Lovers In A Dangerous Time (i.e. Fenris the Inquisitor) is up on AO3! In which the crew finally find Ameridan. 😭

The chapter is long, ~8700 words, so this is just an excerpt. Read in full on AO3.

**********************

Much later, at the deepest and quietest hour of the night, the Inquisition and Stone-Bear Hold launched their attack.

It began with a distraction, as Harding had suggested. Earlier that night, her forces had staged a skirmish back at the shrine, and Svarah’s people had confirmed that a score of Hakkonite warriors had left the Tevinter fortress to join the faux-fight. Now, Fenris was waiting silently in the shadows of a craggy hill with Hawke, Cole, Varric, and a handful of Svarah’s best climbers. Blackwall, Bull, and Sera were with the other Avvar, ready to stage a secondary distraction at the fortress itself while Dorian and Svarah’s mages hid nearby to provide a magical ambush and protection for the distractors.

Fenris trailed his thumb over the handle of the dagger he’d strapped to his thigh. He would be using primarily stealth combat tonight, a combination of Seheronese tactics and dirty tricks that Isabela had taught him back and Kirkwall. His greatsword was ready and waiting on his back, but if all went according to plan, he wouldn’t need to use it.

He breathed slowly as he waited. Then he heard a familiar battle cry.

“Anaan!” Bull roared. A second later, Blackwall’s gusty battle cry followed, and then a third and much more animalistic roar: the sound of Storvacker joining in the fight.

Fenris peered around the corner of the hill. Bull, Blackwall and Storvacker were charging toward the Hakkonites near the fortress gates. A moment later, a flame burst to life on the fortress battlements and drew the sentries’ attention, and the distinct thick smoke told Fenris that the flame was one of Sera’s pitch bombs.

It was time. Fenris turned to Cole. “Go,” he whispered.

Cole nodded, then disappeared. Seconds later, a dead body toppled off of the battlements.

Fenris jerked his head at Svarah’s climbers, who pelted silently toward the outer barbican. He looked at Hawke and Varric. “Be careful,” he whispered.

“You got it,” Varric replied, and Hawke shot him a wink and a smile.

He gave her one last lingering look, then darted away after Svarah’s people. Another corpse toppled from the battlements thanks to Cole’s quick work, and a moment later, Fenris and the Avvar were scaling the brick wall with bare feet and fingers.

He tried not to think too hard about what he was doing; if he put too much thought into it, he would second-guess himself about the fact that it had been over ten years since he’d scaled a wall for battle. He’d practiced a couple of times tonight on the cliff at Stone-Bear Hold to make sure his body still knew the language of the climb, and he was surprised to find that his fingers and toes were still tough and strong enough to handle the task.

When he was with the fog warriors, Fenris had scaled many walls and trees, using the advantage of height to survey qunari and Tevinter movements and to prey on them from a higher vantage point. After his escape from Danarius, Fenris had been forced to use these skills again, shimmying up drainpipes and clambering up the sides of houses in his desperate attempts to evade Danarius’s men as he’d fled through small towns on his way across Thedas.

There was little about his current situation that was a relief. And yet there was something comforting about scaling this wall with comrades at his side.

He felt the distinct warm tingle of Hawke’s barrier settling over him. From Fenris’s left, one of the Avvar called out to him softly. “Faster, Inquisitor! Don’t let Parve get there first, or he'll never shut his trap about it.”

Fenris smiled, then began climbing faster. Despite his best efforts, Parve and two other Avvar beat him to the top of the outer barbican. The Avvar climbers grinned and playfully punched Fenris’s shoulder, then took off silently toward the ladder that led down to the ground.

Fenris crouched down and peered over the battlements. If he looked hard, he could see Hawke was casting her attacks from her hiding spot; Varric wasn’t with her, having moved somewhere else for better range. Blood and bodies were sprinkled on the ground, but more of them were Hakkonites than Svarah’s men, and none of them were Fenris’s people.

He exhaled slowly, then glanced at the empty battlements. “Cole,” he murmured.

“I’m here,” Cole’s hidden form replied.

“Go to Hawke,” Fenris said. “When the doors open, bring her safely through.”

“Yes,” Cole’s voice said.

Fenris nodded in satisfaction, then slid down the ladder and slipped into the shadows again. Svarah’s people were gathered around the portcullis mechanism, trying to find a moment to open the gates while fighting off more Hakkonites that had come running from guard positions to the east and west.

Fenris lit his skin to life, then slid through the threshold of the Fade. He snuck behind one of the distracted Hakkonites and slid his immaterial fist through the man’s chest from behind, then relaxed his lyrium marks.

The man choked as Fenris’s gauntleted fist filled his chest cavity, shoving bone and organs aside. Fenris dragged his hand free, then grabbed his daggers and stabbed another Hakkonite in the neck before hamstringing a third, leaving him vulnerable to Svarah’s men. In the space of a few breaths, the portcullis began to open with a momentous metallic groan.

Fenris watched and waited tensely as the portcullis rose. The keep itself was about a third of a kilometer away at the base of a hill, and more Hakkonites were flooding from the keep and coming their way. By the time the portcullis was fully raised, the Hakkonites were about ten seconds from falling upon them.

Come on, come on, Fenris thought urgently. Svarah’s people had almost lifted the bars holding the gates in place, they were almost there…

The Hakkonites were too close. Fenris lit his marks again and phased toward the oncoming Avvar, then appeared in the middle of the group with his fist inside of an archer’s chest.

He sent a pulse of energy through his fist. The archer’s rib cage exploded in a shower of flesh and blood, and the Hakkonites howled in shock. Then the gates opened, and a group of Inquisition and Avvar fighters came roaring through.

Fenris looked around wildly, then relaxed: Hawke was safely inside the gates with Cole at her side. She grinned at him, and he smiled back before phasing away to help with the battle.

Dorian was raising a wall of fire to funnel some Hakkonites toward a group of Svarah’s Avvar, but an assassin was attempting to sneak up on him. Fenris phased toward the assassin and stabbed him in the flank, then twice in the belly before kicking him down the hill.

“Fenris!” Dorian panted. He threw a fireball at another nearby Hakkonite and delicately wiped his brow. “Someone needs to explain to me how exactly that damned bear knows who to attack and who to leave alone. I just about shit my smallclothes every time it approaches me.”

“Perhaps it’s too repulsed by your clothing to attack you,” Fenris replied smoothly, then spun away and parried a Hakkonite’s sword strike with his daggers. He purposely dropped one dagger to grab the man’s swordhand and drag him close, then stabbed the man viciously three times in the chest before kicking him away.

Dorian, meanwhile, shot Fenris an offended look as he continued to cast barriers and throw fire. “Was that comment intended to comfort me? Because it didn’t work. In fact–”

“You can berate me later,” Fenris said. He scooped up his dropped dagger, then phased away to join Cole as the spirit-boy silently picked off the Hakkonites on the fringes of the battle.

They made their way down the winding path toward the inner keep, fighting Hakkonites along the way. But as they neared the doors to the keep, Fenris noticed something odd at certain points in the air: a faint sort of floating glow that reminded him of moonlight shimmering on snow. Except there was no snow in the air, just that faint glimmer…

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Then, fifteen paces away, a sound like cracking ice pierced his ears, and Sera yelped. “Bugger!”

Fenris whipped around, and his heart seized. Sera and Hawke were huddled together with a coating of ice underfoot. Hawke’s hand was raised as though she’d just cast a barrier, and Sera was shielding her face with one hand, while Hawke’s face…

Fenris’s stomach dropped. The left side of her face was a bloody mess.

Panicked, he phased toward them and cupped her intact cheek in his palm. Her left cheek and forehead looked as though a glass had exploded right beside her face. A moment later, Varric was beside them as well.

“What the hell was that?” Varric demanded.

“Some fucking Hakkonite ice shit,” Hawke spat. “Those floaty lights are like ice mines, they explode if you get too close.”

There was blood leaking into her eye. Fenris dragged in a breath. “Are you–”

“I’m fine,” she said roughly. She pointed with her staff to a Hakkonite mage who was standing close to the doors of the keep. “That mage there. He’s making more mines. Someone needs to–”

“I’ll kill him,” Fenris snarled. He phased toward the mage and materialized directly in front of him.

He sank his fist through the mage’s chest. The mage’s eyes widened with panic, then fluttered lifelessly when Fenris dragged the man’s heart from his chest.

The mage dropped to the ground, and Fenris dropped his heart and turned to Bull and Blackwall, who were fighting nearby. “Watch for those floating points of light,” he barked. “They’ll–”

“Already ahead of you, boss,” Bull yelled, and he turned toward Fenris for a moment.

Fenris winced. Bull’s unarmoured left pec was a messy canvas of frostbite and bloody scratches.

“Don’t worry. I’m good,” Bull assured him, and he launched back into the fray.

Fenris ran back to Hawke, Sera and Varric. “Bull got struck by one of the mines as well,” he reported. “They seem to freeze as well as exploding.”

“Good thing I was able to block that much, at least,” Hawke grunted. She hovered her hand over her wounded face, and after a momentary glow of green, the wound was healed.

Fenris released a breath, but his chest was still jangling with nerves. The wound was gone, but the blood was still there, staining her skin and curving around her eye…

“What’s wrong?” Hawke said. “Did I fuck up my healing? Aren’t I still pretty?”

Varric snorted, and Fenris tried to smile. “You are beautiful, Hawke,” he said. “Now let us finish this fight.”

“Such a romantic soul,” Hawke sighed, and the four of them returned to fight, avoiding the ice mines as they did.

A few minutes later, the Hakkonites were dead, and Svarah strode toward them with a war-axe in her hand. She nodded brusquely to Fenris. “I did not see their thane, Gurd Harofson,” she said. “He must be within the keep, guiding the ritual to free Hakkon.”

“Understood,” Fenris said. “How many Hakkonites do you think are in the keep?”

Svarah rubbed her chin, smearing some blood on it in the process. “A score went to the shrine, we killed about twoscore here… you’ll be looking at ten, maybe fifteen men within. I can send a few men in with you and yours, those who are still fresh after the fight.”

Fenris hesitated. He didn’t want to ask more from Svarah than he already had, but if she was offering, and there was strength in numbers…

He met Hawke’s eye – her bloodied left eye – then turned back to Svarah. “I would appreciate that. Just a few men.”

Svarah nodded. “Some Avvar blood by your side is a boon in battle. I would gladly join you, but–”

Fenris held up a hand. “I understand. You must tend your wounded and prepare your dead for their sky burials.”

She gave him one of her rare smiles. “You understand much indeed, Fenris. May the Lady guide your fight.”

He nodded his thanks, and Svarah strode away, barking orders at her people as she did.

Fenris turned to his companions. They were all marred by blood and dirt, but uninjured thanks to Hawke’s healing.

They’d made it. All of them, all seven of his companions – his friends – had made it to the Hakkonite keep alive. Already they were faring better than Ameridan and his unfortunate companions had done, and that somehow felt like a good sign.

Fenris bowed his head to them. “Let us enter this keep and have done with this cursed task.”

Hawke smiled. “I’ll drink to that,” she said.

“Me too,” Blackwall said.

“Me three!” Sera chirped.

The others nodded and murmured assent, and Fenris smiled at them – and at Svarah’s four Avvar fighters – before pulling open the doors of the keep.

Read the rest on AO3.

#Lovers in a Dangerous Time #fenris #fenris the inquisitor #fenquisition #fenhawke #fenris/hawke #fenris x hawke #Fenris/F!Hawke #fenris x f!hawke #fenris/femhawke #fenris x femhawke #fenrynne #pikapeppa writes #jaws of hakkon #joh dlc #ameridan #inquisitor ameridan

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bushelofmuses · 4 years ago

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@are-you-dreaming-of-stars asked: “Am I doing this right?” - For Ameridan from Gredal

Ameridan scooted closer to Gredal, looking at the trails of magic that swirled and twisted around the diamond-shaped Focus Ameridan made for him.

Honestly, he shouldn’t be letting a human of all people even look at one, let alone use or make one for a human. They didn’t normally react well to people who weren’t their owners, however, and Ameridan wanted him to be prepared if things went south with Solas. He wouldn’t let him ruin this world without a fight, and people of all walks of life needed everything they could get their hands on to fight back.

For now, that meant using old secrets and tools for storing magic for long periods of time. Two weeks of trying to teach Gredal and the Inquisitor to transfer whatever spare magic they could into these things for an emergency. Ameridan did not share what that emergency was.

A trip to the Wilds to visit a long forgotten and decrepid temple for a month gave him time to use what was left to make three of them. He already had his own but...he cared too much about mortals. A bleeding heart, his brother had told him.

“Yes, you’re doing much better this time.” He pointed at the fine grooves in the stone, directing Gredal’s attention to the way the light was following and filling the grooves this time rather than flitting around the Focus haphazardly. “You’re magic is following the seams, just as it should. Beautifully done, Gredal.”

#ask reply #meme reply #areyoudreamingofstars #gredal v #ameridan v #main v: dirthamen

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kylan-writes · 5 years ago

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Banal’halam

Banal'halam: Meaning the concept of souls and memories travelling onwards throughout history within the minds and hearts of loved ones, thus meaning that everything – in a small way – is immortal. Buildings will remain, clues will remain of lost cultres, dead loved ones live onward in our memories. Nothing truly ends

Non-sexual, intimate Nan/Bull fluffiness for your consideration

Also on AO3 | Support me on Ko-fi

Nan couldn’t help the disquiet that took hold of her as they returned from the Frostback Basin. She sent for a bath to be set up for her in her quarters as she took a brief walk on the battlements. The sun was hidden behind the mountains, leaving only hues of violet in its wake. She stared at the view for a moment before turning back towards the castle grounds, looking at the Inquisition of their time fondly.

Of all the things they’d learned in their search for Ameridan… to find that history had stripped him of who he had been in favor of a lie that made them comfortable had been the most upsetting.

Nan kept her arms folded over her chest and sighed, taking the long way back to her quarters. The bath was ready and sitting by the fire. Of all the things to come from living among the shems, she’d never complain about the servants willingly catering to her whims.

She stripped herself bare and grabbed the oils and soaps that Josie had passed along; all gifts from a noble in Orlais. Nan had always preferred the practical gifts. She stepped into the tub by her lit and steady fire and sank into the water, taking care of the grime clinging to her skin and hair.

Nan startled at the sound of Iron Bull’s knock on the door. Three in quick succession followed by two slower. She forced herself to relax back in the water, her knees bent so that her shoulders sank into the lukewarm water, and she listened to her partner come up the steps.

“Everything alright?” he asked, taking a seat on her couch.

“Just thinking too much,” she responded, her eyes on the ceiling.

“You wanna talk about it?”

Nan sighed and rubbed at her neck, wincing when she caught a knot pressed against her spine. Bull noticed and came to sit behind her, taking the lilac scented oil from her small pile of goods. She didn’t have to look to know, it was his favorite to use on her. Nan pulled all her hair over one shoulder and began to finger through the tangles while he worked out the knots in her upper body. “You’re too good to me,” she moaned.

“Nah, this is what I’m here for,” he said, giving a kiss to the space behind her pointed ear. She felt like she could melt under his touch. “Now, tell me what’s on your mind.”

She winced as he caught a tight knot, strong fingers bearing down before it started to come loose. She breathed deeply and began, “Do you think this Inquisition will end up like the last?”

He frowned. “As Seekers?”

“No, to history. They…” She trailed off a bit, gathering her words and moaning slightly as Bull distracted her by gently kneading along the length of her spine. She cleared her throat and began again. “Ameridan was an elf. A Dalish elf with an elven lover, both mages. And history just… rewrote them. Made into Chantry devout humans because it didn’t fit what they wanted to remember. Because how dare we be seen as people to the world, or better yet, as heroes?”

Bull was quiet as Nan spoke. They’d talked about her identity struggles with her clan. She hadn’t been born to it, but when Lavellan’s hunters found a blooded child hidden away in the forest, they took her in. She was as elvhen as the rest of them, but she still wasn’t one of them. Nan had fought to prove herself since she was a child, fought for relevance and worth. Even if it was more for herself than anyone else.

“I’ve spent my life protecting and preserving the history of my people.” She drew in a shaky breath and hugged her knees to her chest, bowing her head.

“Are you afraid of being rewritten?” Bull asked as he tried to unfold her.

“You aren’t?” she mumbled against herself, squeaking as he poked his finger into her side. Nan turned back to look at him with mock betrayal.

He smirked and let out a laugh. “I need you relaxed,” he coaxed, running his hands down her arms. Nan relented and still folded forwards, but this time eased so he could continue his work. “I’ve always assumed history would get all of this wrong. I mean, shit, they’ve already got your name wrong.”

Nan grimaced, remembering that her clan name had been twisted into her surname and recorded as such for the masses. “Ugh, humans. They don’t understand naming conventions that don’t fit their standards.”

He laughed lightly at this, smiling as she let out another moan as he dug into her shoulders. “That’s already one point against historians. Doesn’t help that all the shit we’ve been through sounds so unbelievable.”

“You sound like Varric,” she sighed. “Maybe he’ll- ouch…” Nan seethed as Bull pressed into a tightly wound spot near her mid back before it turned into a moan. “Maybe he’ll get the story right when he writes about this. It will be embellished, sure, but the big details will stay as they’re supposed to.”

“You really think so?” Bull smiled as she eased out of her melancholy.

“I can hope, and at least be able to proofread before he sends it to a publisher.” She went quiet for a few seconds, the melancholia returning. “I miss him.”

Bull gave her arms a squeeze and pressed a kiss between her shoulder blades. “I know, Kadan.”

Varric and Vivienne had already left for Kirkwall and Val Royeaux, respectively. Rainier was about to leave for the Wardens. And Dorian, her best friend, was preparing to head back to Tevinter to begin his campaign with Maevaris. Cassandra was thankfully still around, as was Sera. But their group was getting smaller. The Inquisition had been around for a year and a half, but already it was changing. Who could know what was to come?

“Alright, that’s as much as I can do for now,” Bull said, sitting back.

Nan rolled out her neck and arms, humming her approval. “You work miracles with those hands of yours, I swear it.” She smiled back at him. “Do I get a turn?”

He smirked and laughed a little at the thought of Nan’s comparatively small hands kneading into his back. “I’ve had most of these knots since Seheron, I doubt they’ll be coming out anytime soon.”

“You of all people know I’m stronger than I look,” Nan chided playfully.

He looked her over fondly. She was always so eager to jump at the chance to care for him, even when he assured her otherwise. “If you really want to try…”

“I do.”

He smiled and nodded. “Then, alright.”

Nan grinned at him. “Could you hand me my towel?”

Bull got up and grabbed the towel waiting for her on her couch, passing it over as she stood up.

“I’ve only got some floral oils right now, but some are really nice,” she said as she patted out her long hair and carefully dried herself off, making sure to get as little water on the carpet as she could. “Take your pick, Josie’s care packages are never ending. Though I doubt Kenric’s colleagues at the University will take to having nearly all of their existing information on Ameridan nullified.”

“We did stop another dragon from rampaging across the county,” Bull pointed out as he pulled off the leather harness still strapped to his shoulder. He watched her put on a clean set of smallclothes and wrap up in her favorite pink satin robe, smacking her ass as she passed by so that she let out a yelp. “I think that’s worth more gifts.”

“You ass,” she squeaked, laughing at him anyways before bending down to kiss him on the head. “But you’re right! I should have Josie make a request for new treats. Maybe a box of those spiced nuts you liked at the Winter Palace.”

Bull hummed in approval as he passed over a bottle of body oil that smelled of patchouli and something that he couldn’t quite make out that wasn’t as floral as the rest. “I think they were Rivaini. They like their weird spices up there.”

“I’ve never been,” Nan said as she dropped a couple pillows on the ground for him. “Lie face down for me, vhenan?”

“Only for you,” he teased, indulging her by lying with his arms folded around the pillows.

Nan smiled as she straddled his waist, sitting on him with her knees on the ground as she uncapped the bottle. “Sathan, lana em vasrea nar nu’ard, emma lath,” she purred, rolling up her sleeves and starting with his shoulders.

Bull let out a grunt as Nan bared down on him with the heel of her palms, almost caught off guard by the combination of her raw strength and how she used her own weight to slowly but effectively knead out the kinks and aches that had plagued him for years. “I only caught about a quarter of that,” he said, his face mostly buried in the pillows. “But I wouldn’t mind hearing more.”

She let out an easy laugh as she rolled her thumbs up along the sides of his neck, getting him to groan as she dug into the base of his skull. “Ar isala ma ama, ara nas’falon, amahn dur da’laves.”

He groaned as she sat on his lower back, pressing her elbow into a knot between his right shoulder blade and spine. “You’re making me curious, now.”

“I thought you liked the mystery,” she teased as she put her weight into her elbow, driving the point of it harder and rolling it on the knot until it began to ease. “Made it sexier?”

Bull let himself moan as he felt the tension release and she moved to the other side. “Well, sure.” He gasped slightly as she found a spot that he’d been largely pretending wasn’t causing him any pain before his voice turned into a rumble deep in his chest. “But that- ah!” Nan bared down harder and he gripped at the pillows before forcing himself to relax. “Mmh, that doesn’t mean you’re not back there saying something like, ‘your dick smells like a cabbage!’”

Nan burst into a fit of laughter at this, throwing her head back as she fought to hold herself together. Bull laughed heartily himself, the two so at ease in each other’s presence. “Do you really think I would falsify my sweet nothings like that?” she managed to get out, wiping the laughter tears from her face with her sleeve before picking up the bottle of oil again and squeezing a hefty amount into her palms.

“Depends on how sweet these nothings of yours are,” Bull said.

She smiled at him and shifted so she was sitting on his hips, pressing her hands down into his lower back so that the heels of her palms ground into the tense muscle beneath his scarred skin. “I said,” Nan began, slowly rolling her hands through the muscles along either side of the length of his spine. Bull moaned under her touch. “Please, let me release your pain, my love.”

Bull closed his eyes as he soaked in the warmth of her touch and her words. Warmth he let himself indulge in as her effectiveness continued to surprise him. Their roles had always been such that he put her needs first, took control of her body as a way to keep the title of Inquisitor from suffocating her. He’d never needed anything more, but this was nice. Perhaps he’d indulge more often, given how eager she was to please.

“What about the other part?” he mumbled as she dug her elbows into his mid back.

Nan was quiet, and she was glad his wide horns prevented him from fully turning back to see the flush creeping on her cheeks. “Hm?”

“The ‘issala’ bit,” he elaborated, shifting slightly, “but it’s not qunlat, and I don’t know what yours means.”

She smiled as she bared down a bit harder, grinning to herself when she heard him moan loudly as the knot she was beating finally relaxed. “‘Isala,’” she corrected, the pronunciation more fluid than qunlat. “Means, a personal wish or desire.”

“That’s completely different from my translation for it,” Bull chuckled.

Nan laughed back and pulled away once she’d finished on the opposite side, trying to stay even but starting to get tired. She yawned and laid flat on her stomach, still straddling him and wrapping her arms around his shoulders as she pressed a kiss to the back of his neck. “I did what I could. I hope you don’t mind the bruises.”

“A few bruises in exchange for your hands all over me? Seems fair enough,” he said, taking her hand in his and kissing her knuckles.

She smiled against his skin and kissed him again, nipping at his shoulder playfully before nuzzling against him. “Think history will remember us? The Inquisitor and her Tal’Vashoth partner?”

He hummed thoughtfully, lazily. “Probably won’t get the terminology right, but that’d be pretty great.”

Nan sighed, breathing him in and feeling at peace. She let herself close her eyes and start to drift, letting herself savor the closeness. “It would.”

#dragon age inquisition #nan lavellan #iron bull #iron bull/lavellan #iron bull x lavellan #Iron Bull/Inquisitor #iron bull x inquisitor #fluff #just pure fluff

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jawsofhakkontranscript · 4 years ago

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Ameridan’s End: Assault the Jaws of Hakkon

(Previous quest - On Ameridan's Trail)

Main questline: Ameridan’s End: Assault the Jaws of Hakkon

This is the first part of "Ameridan's End" questline.

Characters involved: Svarah Sun-Hair, Lace Harding, Bram Kenric, Gurd Harofsen

Preparations are in place to wage assault on the Jaws of Hakkon and search for Inquisitor Ameridan.

Part 1: Speak with Svarah Sun-Hair

Svarah: When you are ready, you have our blades, Inquisitor.

Dialogue options:

Special: Hakkon connects to Ameridan. [1] (If both “Storvacker Caged” and “What Yet Lingers” have been completed.)

General: Let us begin the assault. [2]

[1] Special: Hakkon connects to Ameridan.

PC: You said that the Jaws of Hakkon first tried binding their god in mortal form hundreds of years ago?

Svarah: What of it?

PC: In our search for Inquisitor Ameridan, we learned that he came here to fight a great dragon 800 years ago… A dragon that came from the mountains with Avvar warriors to attack the lowlands.

Svarah: (Laughs.) Your last Inquisitor must have fought well to stop Hakkon himself! [3]

[3] Subsequent dialogue options:

Investigate: This is all right with you? [4]

Investigate: Does this happen often? [5]

[4] Investigate: This is all right with you?

PC: You're not bothered by the idea that our Inquisitor killed your god?

Svarah: He didn't kill him. That would have been easier. Whatever fight your Inquisitor finished, the Jaws of Hakkon started. I find no fault with a warrior defending his people. [Back to 3]

[5] Investigate: Does this happen often?

PC: Do the Avvar gods take mortal form on a regular basis?

Svarah: No. The gods belong in the land of dreams. Whether it is their wish—or some augur's—that brings them here, battle-tears will be shed. The skalds say the Lady of the Skies took mortal form when Tyrdda Bright-Ax first led the Avvar to the mountains. They say many things about Bright-Ax and the Lady. [Back to 3]

[2] General: Let us begin the assault.

PC: I'm ready to attack the Jaws of Hakkon.

Svarah: Good. They will pay the blood-price for what they have done.

(Kenric and Harding enter the Thane's hall.)

Svarah: Your skald and your scout are here. We can plan the assault.

Kenric: Oh, I like the sound of "skald." It's more dramatic than "professor."

Harding: (Coughs.)

Kenric: Yes, well. Everything we've found about Inquisitor Ameridan suggests that he never emerged from that Tevinter fortress.

Svarah: If that is where your Inquisitor defeated Hakkon, that is where the Jaws of Hakkon must perform the rite to free him. [6]

[6] Dialogue options:

General: We can stop them. [7]

General: Or hopefully not. [8]

General: We have a target. [9]

[7] General: We can stop them.

PC: Inquisitor Ameridan saved the lowlands from an Avvar invasion. We cannot do any less. [10]

[8] General: Or hopefully not.

PC: Ideally, we stop them before that. I'd rather not fight an Avvar god if we don't have to. [10]

[9] General: We have a target.

PC: Good. We know where to strike. [10]

[10] Harding: You really have no problem with us killing your god?

Svarah: Gods cannot be reborn until they die. (Laughs.) Hakkon needs a good rebirthing.

Harding: If you say so.

Svarah: With its ice-wall melted, the fortress is open to attack. We must strike soon, before our foes recover.

Harding: They're already trying. I've got most of our forces defending the shrine from Hakkonites who want to restore the wall. [11]

[11] Dialogue options:

General: We're going to take losses. [12]

General: I'm open to ideas. [13]

General: A siege seems unlikely. [14]

[12] General: We're going to take losses.

PC: The fortress was built to be defensible. It's going to cost us a lot of people to take it.

Svarah: Why? [15]

[13] General: I'm open to ideas.

PC: If anyone has suggestions, now is the time.

Svarah: What gives you fear, Inquisitor? Is this not the battle you wanted? [15]

[14] General: A siege seems unlikely.

PC: We don't have time to drag siege equipment through the forest to take down those walls.

Svarah: A siege? Bah! We have no need of rock-throwers and rams. [15]

[15] Kenric: I am no warrior, but with Lady Harding's forces defending the shrine and no way to breach the walls...?

Svarah: (Laughs.) Lowlanders. Why not climb the walls?

Harding: Your warriors can get over those walls before the Hakkonites stop them?

Svarah: This is not a war, Stone-Daughter. This is a raid. We strike at night, clad lightly. We climb the wall and open the gate from inside. [16]

[16] Dialogue options:

General: We are in your debt. [17]

General: I guess this is our plan. [18]

General: Let's move. [19]

[17] General: We are in your debt.

PC: If Stone-Bear Hold can open the gates, we would be grateful.

Svarah: The Jaws of Hakkon have been bugs in my bedroll for months, Inquisitor. We owe you thanks. [20]

[18] General: I guess this is our plan.

PC: Well, then. Unless anyone has something that sounds easier than climbing the walls...?

Svarah: I would not offer what I could not give. It will be done. Perhaps my climbers will earn themselves a legend-mark! [20]

[19] General: Let's move.

PC: Agreed. How soon can we attack?

Svarah: As soon as the sun sets, Inquisitor. This will be a good night. [20]

[20] Harding: Inquisition forces will feign weakness near the shrine. That will draw some of them away from the fortress.

Kenric: Not too many, I hope.

Svarah: Yes. Save some for us!

Harding: (Nods.)

Part 2: Assault the gate.

(The Inquisition’s soldiers and the warriors from Stone-Bear Hold gather in front of the gate of the Tevinter ruin.)

Parve: Right, Inquisitor. Hask and I will climb over.

Hask: I'll be there to catch Parve when he slips.

Parve: 'Course you will. You'll be behind me, after all.

(These two are the same Avvar men who participated in the Test of the Lady - the climbing contest used for settling disputes - that took place when the Inquisition first arrived in Stone-Bear Hold - see “Avvar Allies” main quest.)

Hask (to Parve): 'Ware the guard.

Parve: I've got him.

(The Avvar sneak ahead and start climbing over the walls of the fortress. Meanwhile, the Inquisition leads the assault from the front to distract the Hakkonites.)

Male Hakkonite: There! It's the lowlanders!

Female Hakkonite: Kill the Inquisitor! Death to her/his hold, for Hakkon's glory!

(Storvacker joins the fight.)

Party comments:

Varric: Storvacker, good to see you again!

Dorian: And we have a bear. Hooray!

Sera: Eat them, not us! Got it?

Cole: I'm happy to see you, too!

Svarah Sun-Hair: Greetings from Stone-Bear Hold, you shit-eating goat-lovers!

(The climbers continue scaling the walls.)

Parve: Watch your grip. It slips a bit.

Hask: Bah, you can't grip anything more challenging than your mother's teat.

Parve: (Grunts.) I was aiming for his throat. We'd best hurry.

Hask: Nicely done.

Parve: Be ready, Inquisitor!

(The gate is opened from the inside by the climbers from Stone-Bear Hold.)

Hask: Lady take you, goat-lovers!

Parve (to the Inquisitor): As you please, Inquisitor.

Hask: I'd not tarry. More will be coming.

(Walk through the gate and defeat the Hakkonites defending the battlements.)

Party comments:

Cassandra: The Avvar were true to their word!

Iron Bull: Nice work, Stone-Bear Hold!

Blackwall: Your Avvar friends pulled it off!

Varric: Our Avvar friends came through!

Svarah Sun-Hair: We have your back, Inquisitor! Fight well!

Part 3: Find Inquisitor Ameridan’s resting place.

(Walk towards the Tevinter ruin.)

Party comments:

Cassandra: No sign of the dragon. It must be in there.

Cole: She doesn't want to be him. He doesn't want to be chained. Tied together, wracked and raging.

Solas: The ritual must be underway. There is a great deal of magical energy coming from the bottom of the crater.

(There are ice wards in the field between the gate and the main building. If destroyed, they freeze everyone in the vicinity.)

Party comments:

Dorian: Watch the wards! We can't afford to be slowed down!

Vivienne: Watch out for the ice wards! We cannot let them slow us!

Sera: Pissing freezing magic!

Solas: Beware the wards! They will sap your strength!

(An ice ward is destroyed.)

Party comments:

Cassandra: The ward is destroyed!

Iron Bull: How do you like that, frosty?

Blackwall: That should end the wards!

Cole: You can't freeze us!

(Enter the Old Temple. The interior is covered in frost.)

Party comments:

Vivienne: This frost is magical in nature. If we do not make haste, we will freeze to death.

Cassandra: This cold is magical in origin. It will kill us if we do not hurry.

Sera: We stay here, our bits will snap off. Get moving.

Solas: The cold is magical. It will kill us if we do not hurry.

Cole: This isn't real, but it still hurts. We have to be fast.

Dorian: Even colder than usual. This is magical. We need to keep moving.

Varric: This isn't natural. We'd better hurry, unless you like freezing to death.

(Stay by the fire to warm up.)

Party comments:

Sera: Better, right? Might even keep our toes.

Iron Bull: (Grunts.) Cold's not so bad here.

Varric: The cold isn't so bad here.

Cole: Yes. False cold, but the real fire keeps it away.

(Gurd Harofsen begins the ritual.)

Party comments:

Varric: We should probably hurry. There's no good kind of crazy ritual chanting.

Vivienne: They are performing the ritual. I suggest we hurry.

Solas: We must hurry. The ritual to free the spirit of Hakkon is underway.

Dorian: Sounds like they've already started the ritual. Best hurry, then.

(Gurd chants the Song of savage Hakkon.)

Sing the song of savage Hakkon, born in battle, bloody bladed.

Wintersbreath to wrack the lowlands, cold to cut and kill the hated.

Meet the might of Mountain-Father, crush the creed of Korth the callow.

Leave the Lady lost and lonely, scour the skies of spirits sallow!

Gurd Harofsen, called the Cutter, wyvern-slayer, lowland-bane

Begs of Hakkon, bring his body bloody blessings, cold and pain!

(The chant ends.)

Party comments:

Vivienne: The barbarian is allowing himself to be possessed by Hakkon!

Solas: The Hakkonite leader is calling the spirit of Hakkon into his own body!

Varric: Harofsen's summoning Hakkon into himself!

Dorian: He's summoning Hakkon into his own body!

Cassandra: Is he insane?

Iron Bull: Who does that? That's a terrible idea!

Blackwall: He's mad!

Sera: Don't care. Stupid gets arrows.

(A dragon can be seen in the distance.)

Party comments:

Sera: There's the dragon! It's... frozen or something?

Cole: The dragon. She's stuck, still, a statue. Hakkon is angry inside her.

Varric: There's the Hakkon dragon! At least it's not moving yet.

Iron Bull: There's the dragon! Long as it holds still like that, we should be all right.

(The fight begins. Gurd continues the ritual while being protected by Hakkonites.)

Party comments:

Vivienne: Hakkon is invulnerable until we disrupt those around him!

Solas: We cannot harm Hakkon until the ritual is disrupted!

Cassandra: We must disrupt the ritual first! Then Hakkon can be harmed!

Dorian: We have to take out the others! We can't hurt Hakkon until they're out!

(Gurd summons the spirit of Hakkon into himself and transforms into a revenant.)

Gurd: Face me and die, Inquisitor! Your predecessor could not stand against me. You shall fall as well! I am the cold bite of winter! I am Hakkon reborn! Death to the lowlanders!

(The revenant casts powerful ice spells.)

Party comments:

Sera: Ranged, right? Too cold up close!

Cassandra: The cold is worse near the creature!

Blackwall: The cold gets worse the closer you are!

Iron Bull: Careful! Cold's worse up close!

(During the fight, the revenant freezes the braziers as he loses health.)

Party comments:

Vivienne: He's putting out the fires!

Varric: Watch yourself! He's putting out the fires!

Dorian: The damn thing's dousing the fires!

Solas: Be careful! He's dousing the fires!

(Next quest - Ameridan's End: Talk to Ameridan)

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