#that sera has a hard time with alienage culture | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

5lazarus · 4 years

Text

old forms, new movement

finished binging avatar: the last airbender and decided that’s what thedas looked like before Solas raised the Veil Solas interacts with a romanced Lavellan’s daughter, in a world where Lavellan shames him into admitting he is Fen’Harel and his role in Corypheus’ plans. not all is well, but it’s getting better.

------

Solas is canvassing the forest outside of Skyhold’s walls, looking for the royal elfroot he planted when they first arrived, when he sees them: mother and daughter, slowly moving through an old martial magic form. He can feel the manipulation of the Veil as both pluck and twist at it, and pull the Fade between vibrato and out of their bodies as a thin flame. He pauses and watches. Before he raised the Veil, the fire they summoned would have been hot enough to melt the snow about them. But Lavellan carefully guides a thin whip, and slows to make sure her daughter can copy, and does not hurt herself. Internal burns are the most difficult to heal.

They move through the Dragon’s Dance. Now, the earth does not tremble, the trees do not shake, and the forest stays decidedly unburnt. At the end, mother and daughter face each other and in unison exhale, breath sparking. “See?” Inquisitor Lavellan, Imladris Ashallin, says. “This is what I meant by discipline. If you stay calm, if you remain in control over your breathing, you don’t need a staff. Even your breath can be a weapon. You can feel the energy move through your body, can’t you? The movement helps guide it, but it’s your breath that controls it. And it’s your mind that controls your breath.”

Mathalin holds out her hands and closes her eyes. Imladris smiles and clasps them. Solas understands suddenly that he is intruding as he feels them both casting their energy down into the earth and probing outward, and the two turn around to regard him, Mathalin unhappily, Imladris neutral. The two are tense. He almost steps back, but doesn’t. Pride goeth before the fall.

“I didn’t know the Dalish still preserved those forms,” he comments. It is the wrong thing to say. Imladris turns away from him and pulls her daughter closer.

She tells her, in a language she thinks he does not know, “Well done. I’m proud of you. You caught on faster than I did, at your age. Of course, you have a better teacher than I did.”

Mathalin looks away. “You don’t have to flatter me.” She slips out of her grasp, and Imladris says, “I wasn’t...” to her retreating back. Solas steps out of her way. Mathalin glares at him as she passes. He feels guilty, he always feels guilty. Though they generally get along, as much as any middle-aged deity and teenaged girl can, Mathalin has so little time with her mother, and Solas has been monopolizing enough of Imladris’ time as they prepare to confront Corypheus at the Arbor Wilds.

“You should go after her,” he says.

Imladris is watching her daughter make her way back to Skyhold. “Later. I’ve been drilling her since dawn.” Her eyes move to his face, and she says, “It’s not your fault. She’s been angry with me since Halamshiral.” He reaches for her hand and they watch to make sure Mathalin makes it safely through the gate. “She thought I should have brought her, presented her as my daughter. Or at the very least, snuck her in as a servant to spy.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Imladris looks up at him. “Sera already harvested the feladara you planted. She baked them into those ‘pride cookies’ she was throwing at people last week.”

Solas takes a moment to mourn the loss of the very potent high he had spent two months waiting for, and then says, “Don’t try to deflect.” He grasps both of her hands now, and Imladris smiles despite herself. “You are upset. What is the matter?”

“Mathalin’s forgetting her Orlesian Dalish,” Imladris says. “Which her father taught her. Mirwen barely knows any, not enough for her to practice. She thinks I’m keeping her away from her father’s heritage. As if I didn’t want to send her to her grandmother, rather than risk her safety in Skyhold.”

“Ah,” Solas says, to say something. One does not learn how to be a stepfather in the Fade, and it was not a position he ever found himself close to before entering uthenera. He had been a mentor before, distant and perhaps a little cruel. This was uncharted territory. “I could talk to her, if you like.” He can wax poetic about cultural alienation for hours, though perhaps a sixteen-year-old girl would not be the best audience.

He finds Mathalin moving through the same firebending form by the barn, too fast, too jerkily. The surgeon is watching, frowning. He sees the moment where the child unbalances herself; her breathing hitches, her left foot lands slightly off-angle, and both he is across the field and pulling the fire out of her before it explodes out of her skin.

“Da’len,” he snaps, “man’itha.” Child. Watch yourself.

She gasps--she’s burnt the inside of her mouth. The surgeon hurries over and clucks her tongue. “Dalish,” she shakes her head. “Needs more discipline.”

“She’s half-Orlesian too,” Solas responds. “And your people aren’t known for their...restraint, either.”The surgeon rolls her eyes and hands Mathalin a waterskin, who drinks eagerly.

“Tastes like chilies,” she croaks.

“You’re lucky you can still taste,” Solas says. He’s exasperated. Surely he was not this foolish and stubborn, at her age--and then he remembers he was much worse.

“I didn’t know you were from Orlais,” The surgeon says. She narrows her eyes at him, attempting to add Fen’Harel, Arlathan, Orlais, and his general lack of exuberance and coming up with contradictions. Solas pauses and glances at Mathalin, who looks away.

“The Inquisitor’s first husband, Mahanon, was from the Val Royeaux alienage,” he says carefully. “I am told that both Mathalin and Mirwen resemble him closely.” And pointedly, they do not resemble him. What was it that Felassan said? Mahanon was so lively, always had a blush in his cheek--quite unlike your corpselike pallor, lethallin, Imladris needs to leave you out in the sun a bit more, you look like you belong in the Mire.

“He only died eight years ago,” Mathalin says. “You can’t strike him from the historical record yet.” Solas winces. The surgeon takes that moment to make a tactical retreat. He does not blame her.

“I’m sorry,” Solas says. He offers her a hand to help her up, but she ignores it, and springs unsteadily to her feet.

“It’s fine. Not your fault they think we all look the same.”

Solas snorts. “Yes.”

Mathalin crosses her arms. “Did my mother send you to talk to me?"

“No, she wouldn’t be so foolish. She thinks she should leave you alone.”

“She’s done enough of that, my whole life.” Mathalin starts walking toward the battlements. Solas follows her, to make sure she does not fall. Imladris should not have been pushing her so hard. He waves at Thom as they pass. The children of Clan Lavellan--Mathalin and Mirwen, Imladris’ daughters, and then her nephews and her niece--all like him, mostly because he takes them as they come and treats them as seriously as they deserve. Mathalin in particular is bright, and proud, hot-tempered as her mother must have been, like a blade before it is tempered. He has always been fond of her, since he found her hiding under his desk, avoiding lessons at the Chantry--even when she decided to test Skyhold’s wards by launching her younger sister from the rookery, he laughed, once his heart started beating again. They are taking the long way towards the Great Hall, along the ramparts. He waits for her to speak. “I know it’s not on purpose. My dad always said she was trying. That she was doing it all for us, when she’d go away on a caravan, or a hunting trip, or--I guess a lot of those were assassinations.”

Solas is silent. He remembers how hungry he had been for Mythal’s favor, when he had first risen in her service--as if those moments plotting her wars could erase the long years she had spent away from her people, raiding with Elgar’nan, as if that could soften his anger that she had made him and dropped him off and forgotten about him, and as soon as he had made himself interesting, she had whistled and he had come running like a trained hunting dog. Imladris is a better mother than Mythal, by far; she has never enslaved any of her children. But leadership and parenthood are difficult hats to juggle.

Before they get to Cullen’s office, Mathalin turns to him. “I’m not mad about that, though. She thinks I am, but I’m not. I’m mad that I get to spend all this time with her now, and it’s only because she’s been made Inquisitor. It doesn’t matter that my father was killed, as soon as she was able she went back to the field.” Solas winces and hopes Mathalin has the sense not to tell Imladris that. “Nothing short of a global catastrophe can get my mother to straighten out her priorities. And now, it’s just too much. She won’t let me go anymore. Most elves my age are starting their apprenticeships--Knight-Commander Helaine told me she’d teach me the Way of the Knight-Enchanter. Ambassador Briala asked me to join her guard. Keeper Hawen even said he could use a younger mage to help with banishing the demons from Var Bellanaris. And, well, my grandmother could always use help.”

Solas marvels briefly at how mother and daughter can utterly misunderstand each other. He and his father had understood each other very well, though Lahtaras had a calmer temperament and a more disciplined nature. He had always been clear about both his affection and expectations: “If you are going to contradict yourself, synthesize it. Discordance brings a greater harmony. Try not to die a slave. Don’t forget that you are one. They won’t.” He wonders what Lahtaras would say to this, what advice he would give.

“She wants to keep you close. Keep you safe,” he says. “She’s afraid you’ll be captured by Corypheus. She’s afraid Briala will hold you hostage. She’s afraid--”

“But I’m not.”

Solas chuckles slightly: youth. “She’s your mother, da’len. You should tell her you need to make your own way--she will be more understanding than you think. But perhaps you should master your forms first. She will breathe much easier, if she knows you will always have the dragon’s breath to protect yourself.”

Mathalin pauses. “I suppose you’re right. Please don’t tell her I burned my mouth.”

Solas fails to point out her face is sunburned. She needs to learn, after all, and leaving Imladris and Mathalin to yell and cry it all out, he absconds to the barn, where Thom and Iron Bull are drowning their sorrows and playing a terrible game of Diamondback. He cleans them all out, and, after his seventh drink, Arlathan brogue eating half his words, lectures them sententiously that children really do only learn if you shout at them, and it’s best if you can set it up so someone else does the shouting, he has a reputation to keep.

#fen'harel's teeth #dragon age inquisition #solas #fanfic #solavellan #solavellan hell #fanfiction #greeneli #hes5thlazarus #solas fic #wildly au #imladris ashallin lavellan

4 notes · View notes

bosspigeon · 6 years

Note

How is Grief's relationship with the companions and advisors? Does he hate any of them? Is he particularly close to any of them?

i think he gets along very well with Sera, Varric, and Bull especially, and Sera thinks it’s a personal challenge to make him laugh and calls him dumb nicknames that he finds very endearing. she reminds him of friends he grew up with in the alienage, and he sort of treats her like a very rowdy little sibling. it’s impossible for him to dislike Varric, and they commiserate a lot over the bullshit they’ve been dragged into against their will. and even before he and Bull get romantically involved, they get along really well, just based on how friendly and open Bull is. i think he does get close with some of the other companions, too, but these three are the ones he can really let down his guard around.

he likes Cassandra, i think, because she’s very forceful and no-nonsense and dependable, but her insistence in calling him the Herald of Andraste really grates on him. not to mention the whole “is there not room in your pantheon for another god???” but otherwise, they get along well enough. they are both very headstrong people, though, so they butt heads a lot.

he and Dorian snark and insult each other basically constantly, but when asked they both readily assert that they’re very close friends, and they have a habit of staying up late and comparing notes on different magical theories and practices they were taught growing up.

Blackwall is... complicated. i think Grief wants to like him, but he has a very finely honed Bullshit sense, and since Grief is a fundamentally honest person, he does not like being lied to in any way. i think he’s a lot more comfortable with Blackwall once the truth comes out, and he has time to cool down. afterwards, they kind of hang together quietly and don’t really talk, just existing in the same space. like cats.

he and Vivienne get along...... like, so well it’s actually a little scary. like they do sometimes argue about the Circle, because he never grew up in one, but i think he’d be fascinated by the idea of formal college of mages, without the looming threat of Templars. he’s fascinated by the Game, while he doesn’t quite understand it, and watching someone play it so skillfully is sort of awe-inspiring. i think he does often get frustrated with her habit of not saying what she means, and she gets frustrated (but doesn’t show it) with his inability to be duplicitous in any sense of the word.

he doesn’t really like Solas very much. a huge part of Grief’s identity revolves around his father’s Dalish heritage, as well as his own upbringing in the alienage, so the way Solas talks about elves really grinds his gears. especially the dalish, because he’s very protective of his father’s memory, and hearing anyone insult him, especially in a way that implies his stupidity, is a sure-fire way to get Grief’s dander up.

as for advisors, i think Josephine is his favorite. she’s impossible not to love, and the way she treats him and his culture as something to be respected and learned about rather than a novelty or something silly and childish is a breath of fresh air when constantly dealing with people who treat him as something foreign and alien, or entirely backwards. they do occasionally argue about how to deal with particularly stubborn diplomats or dignitaries, because Grief thinks the whole political maneuvering thing is annoying, and wishes he could just tell asshole nobles to fuck off and be done with it. a lot of meetings are Grief trying very hard not to blurt out something rude while Josie does all the actual talking.

it’s sort of the same with Leliana, because he’s a very straightforward person that wants to deal with problems directly, but he does admire her ruthless efficiency and is sort of in awe of her skill with manipulating the odds in the Inquisition’s favor. it’s inspiring and terrifying and he’s very glad she’s on their side, and tells her so often.

he can hardly stand to be in the same room with Cullen for longer than, like, twenty minutes, and the only thing they really agree on is how to deal with insufferable dignitaries and stuffed shirts. every time Cullen starts in on mages and templars, Grief mostly just tunes out to avoid jumping across the war table and starting an all-out brawl.

#pidge replies #pidge babbles #grief garrote #long post #igigihgh i went ham y'all #i hope i didnt miss anyone #Anonymous

5 notes · View notes

fadewalking · 7 years

Text

Solas and Relationships (AKA: Why He Wouldn’t Have Sex With Spirits, And Who He Would Have Sex With)

So I’ve been getting a lot of asks about Solas having sex with spirits, and if he’s ever done it. A lot of people assume that it’s canon that he has had sexual relations with spirits because of this in-game banter (this is gonna be a ridiculously long post so buckle up):

Many people understandably take his lack of a straightforward answer as an admission, which I don’t entirely disagree with but, like Solas says, I do not think it’s so simple. Since this is a rp blog, a lot of the following will be my own personal headcanons for him, which may divert from canon, but I do have reasons for everything I believe about him and I will make a case for them.

Firstly, I do not think Solas has ever had a sexual or romantic relationship with a spirit ever at any point. I feel particularly strongly about this as I would argue spirits cannot give true consent, and as I feel that Solas is a very consent-centric character, he would respect this. Spirits are often single minded, they care about the trait that they reflect and embody and little more beyond that (think of the spirit of Command you run into in Old Crestwood). Spirits lack true and total autonomy, as they are willed by dreamers and the waking world to reflect back whatever they are given. Solas never debates this, what he does say about this is in response to the Herald saying “Spirits are bound by their nature. You said it yourself. They’re shaped by contact with real people.” To which he replies “Just as Leliana was shaped by contact with Divine Justinia, as those who serve the Inquisition are shaped by you. If I change your mind in this conversation, does that mean you’re no more real than a spirit?”

A good argument, and I agree with him, but the fact remains that spirits are so much bound to their nature that it affects their ability to act with 100% autonomy and free will, and thus it affects their ability to consent in either a romantic or sexual relationship. Of course even so, I agree with Solas that spirits are people too, even bound as they are to their nature. The ability to consent does not a person make.

Consent matters, as I’m sure we can all agree, even in nonsexual, romantic relationships. So, why do I say that I still think the above banter is some kind of admission? My personal headcanon is that he once fell in love with a Spirit of Purpose. Nothing ever came of it, because he never expressed it, because of the above rationale. But this would explain why spirits and relationships are such a complicated matter, as Solas claims they are (why a spirit of Purpose? Idk, just sounds good).

Now, who would he have sex with? Would he have sex at all? How does he identify in terms of sexual orientation?

Let me start off by saying that I headcanon him as bisexual (or perhaps biromantic/demiromantic). I know what you’re thinking “but it’s canon that he’s not!” Yes. True, but consider the following: Not only will I always jump at the chance to create more LGBTQA+ representation whenever possible, but I disagree with Bioware’s reason for not making him bisexual in the first place. Which they claim was in order to avoid making their “Villain” part of the LGBTQA+ community. Which, while understandable, I feel is misguided at best. As someone who identifies as both pansexual and transgender, I could write an essay over why I feel Bioware dropped the ball on this, but that would take too long and if you want to discuss that with me, let’s do it somewhere else, for the sake of not making this post any longer than it has to be. Suffice it to say, I feel Bioware made the wrong choice when they decided not to make Solas bisexual. With this is mind, my personal interpretation of his character is that he is bisexual. If you are of the mind that this is heterosexual erasure, and just as offensive as the notion of making Sera or Dorian straight, then kindly never speak to me because quite frankly I cannot believe we are still debating this, as a fandom.

Anyway…

I also appreciate headcanons that he is asexual biromatic. He does not have a sex scene in canon, and for the most part it is thought that it was intentionally left vague so that we can imagine whatever we’d like. Thus I choose to believe that while he is interested in sex (perhaps very interested) it is highly unlikely to happen during the Inquisition timeline since he’s very concerned about his idea of consensual sex. There’s dialogue in Trespasser that goes as follows:

Solas: What is the old Dalish curse? May the Dread Wolf Take you ..

Lavellan: And so he did…

Solas: I did not, I would not lay with you under false pretenses.

Of course, we can argue, as Lavellan does, that this rationale is complete and utter bullshit. One does not need to have sex to be taken, so to speak. It is not more right to pursue a deeply intimately romantic relationship under false pretenses than it is a sexual one. It is not worse, but it’s not right.

He very well could be asexual, or maybe grey-asexual and biromantic/demiromantic. There are a of different ways we could label him, I don’t wanna get too caught up in that. But inline with my personal interpretation, he either doesn’t have sex with Lavellan or it’s highly unlikely that he would, but that does not necessarily mean he isn’t interested.

Now we gotta talk about race gates.

Solas is racist and prejudice. There’s no getting around that. He’s prejudice toward Humans, and toward even other Elves, and bizarrely racist against Qunari and Dwarves. He calls Qunari savage beasts, kept in check only by the rigor of the Qun. He accuses Dwarves of being too practical, too logical, perhaps even unfeeling or uncreative in their disconnection from the Fade and magic. He calls Humans shortsighted, brutish, blind to beauty and trapped in a duality of black and white, with no room for grey areas. And of course he thinks the Dalish are narrow minded, and proud to the point of arrogance. There is dialogue on each of these during the Balcony Scenes with the various races, and to every race except the Elves, when you try to argue that Solas is wrong in his preconception of the people, he simply says something to the effect of “No. I am not.” but for and Elven inquisitor, if you argue that what he thought of the Dalish was wrong, he only says “That is it then, I suppose it must be.” He concedes that he may have been wrong.

Given his unwillingness to believe that any besides an Elf is capable of change from what he perceives in his racial stereotypes, and simply the intensity of his racism and prejudice, I would argue it highly unlikely, that Solas would ever be in a relationship with anyone that was not Elvhen. In particular, a human. I think his biggest problem, racially and culturally is with the Qun, but a tal vashoth who hated the Qun would likely have a better chance at getting with Solas than any human. And my reasoning for that is simple: Humans are the majority oppressors of Elves in current-day Thedas. Tevinter enslaves them, Orlais and Ferelden keep them as servants, and force them in alienage slums or to be nomadic and out of touch. Humans ordered the exalted march, and refused to allow Elves even the promised land Andraste gave to them. And while Solas claims not to see modern day Elves as his people (though he seems fickle about this and does call them his people, when it suits his conversation) he certainly shows empathy to their plight and blatant disapproval of how Humans treat them. We all know if there’s one thing Solas hates more than anything else, it’s slavery, and I think you would be hard pressed to get around his feelings toward Humans all being the same brutish oppressors.

If he did have sex or a romantic relationship it would be with a female, male, or nonbinary Elf, and I do not think it would particularly matter if they were a City Elf or Dalish. He has his prejudices against both groups, and just so happens to be more vocals about it with the Dalish.

Now for something a bit more personal to me: the topic of transgender Elves. How would Solas feel about a trans elf? Would knowing someone is trans effect his willingness to be in a romantic or sexual relationship?

The short answers are: He doesn’t really care what someone identifies as, and no, respectively. This is not a new concept. While he may be a cis man himself (or he may not be, quite frankly we do not, and cannot know) he is no stranger to nonbinary or transgender people. This is because being nonbinary or transgender is not a modern phenomenon. Surely they existed numerously enough in his time, and he has been alive long enough (and has had enough sex via my own headcanons) that he is most definitely both familiar and unperturbed by trans or nonbinary people. I believe despite his enormous racism, that prejudice does not carry to gender or sexual orientation. He would therefore always use whatever pronouns were asked of him, and speak with his usual amount of grace and sensitivity and delicacy about his partner’s gender. And I like to imagine, if it became sexual, he would be very doting about making sure they were comfortable with whatever he was doing.

As I stated at the beginning of this post, these are entirely my headcanons and personal interpretations of his character. You may feel free to disagree, but do not be rude about it. If you’d like to discuss or dispute anything I’ve said here, I would encourage you to come to my askbox and do so politely, off anon, so that we may converse privately and I will not have to flood everyone’s dash with discourse. Thanks for reading, and sorry this was so long.

#i wrote this a while ago and im just reposting here since i remade #headcanons #i forgot i needed it #oops

12 notes · View notes

celestialinent · 7 years

Text

randomly writing da:i smut once again. When will this end?

It took both of them losing everything for anything to happen.

Ellie had always liked Sera. It had never been hard to talk to the mischievous young woman- Ellie didn’t have trouble talking to anyone, in fact, Josephine said her charisma was part of the reason anyone still put up with a Dalish apostate leading a Chantry peacekeeping organization. So Ellie had gotten on well enough with Sera. She admired her principles, admired how well-organized the Red Jennies had become since the close of the Breach. She also appreciated how well Sera avoided keeping the gloating about Solas- Fen’Harel- to an acceptable minimum.

Ellie’s anger towards the ancient god, the man she’d loved, had only brought the two elven women closer. Ellie didn’t feel very kind towards thoughts of elven glory any longer, and Sera was good for that. And Dagna was so pleasant to be around, and removed from the situation. It was easiest to spend her time with the pair.

The rest of her companions had taken to giving her pitying looks, dancing around the subject of Fen’Harel, or insisting on helping her with tasks better suited to someone with two arms. She was grateful that so many of her friends remained. Dorian was in Tevinter, Leliana on the sunburst throne, Varric spent most of his time in Kirkwall, and Vivienne had left to reform the Circle, but most remained. And the rest of them visited. But she still hated their pity.

And then he started showing up places. They would set out to hunt elvhen ruins, respond to the panic left after a mass exodus from alienage all across Orlais and Ferelden, or try to reason with suddenly aggressive Dalish clans, and he’d be there. Not physically, of course- because for all that he was willing to tear this world apart for his own, he couldn’t dirty his own hands- but in her dreams.

In the weeks after Corypheus’s defeat, before he’d revealed himself as Fen’Harel, she’d searched for him, chased through the Fade, flashes of lupine shapes pushing her through a dark forest every night- but now their roles were reversed. He sought her out, tried to gather information, tried to dissuade her Inquisition from interfering with his plan to end the world. She didn’t know what he wanted, but she knew he wanted something she wasn’t willing to give.

It was Sera’s words that stopped her running.

“Well it’s his bits, innit?” she asked. They’d all gathered in the Herald’s Rest after a foray into the Emerald Graves that had yielded nothing. Sera was sloshed, leaning heavily on Dagna, and even Iron Bull looked drunk. Cassandra and Cullen had both refrained, but Ellie was on her fourth tankard.

“What are you talking about, Sera?” Bull asked, glancing at the blonde elf from behind his flask. Ellie was just as confused. She couldn’t fathom what Fen’Harel’s genitals had to do with any of this.

“If you were anyone but you, Inky, he’d just try to squash us like bugs. He talks about wanting peace before he achieves Elvhen Glory, but we’re a thorn in his paw. He wants to warn you off ‘cause you smashed bits. He’s soft on you.”

Ellie narrowed her eyes at the girl. “He took my arm, he’s killed my scouts, and he hounds my dreams. I haven’t really slept in a month. There’s nothing soft about the Dread Wolf,” she snapped.

“She’s got a point, Boss. Sol- I mean, the Wolf- hasn’t sent soldiers against any of us, just the scouts. And he took your arm to keep the anchor from killing you. The dreams- maybe he has something to tell you.”

“He wants to end the world,” Cullen pointed out, as if any of them needed to hear it. Ellie was still grateful for his pragmatic comment. Who cared if Fen’Harel was “soft on her”, he was a monster, he was a near sighted fool who thought that her world should end. The feeling she may or may not have had for her was irrelevant.

“Who bloody cares,” Ellie snapped. “How does that benefit us?”

“Seduuuuce him, Inky!” Sera exclaimed, as if that was the obvious answer. Ellie blinked at her for a moment, completely blindsided. As if Ellie would ever sink that low. Suddenly her shock was replaced with anger.

“Fuck off, Sera,” she snapped, shoving her stool away from the table, making to leave the tavern immediately.

“Oi, listen to me, Inky!” Sera snapped back, eyes wild for a moment. “It’sa good idea! The ancient arse won’t expect it-“

“Because I’d never do that!” Ellie shouted.

“Ya wanna win, don’tcha?” Sera shot back. “Don’t gotta do the deed or nuthin’, it’s just about making him think you’re givin’ him what he wants, innit?”

Iron Bull’s eyes suddenly lit up. “it’s not a bad idea, boss. I mean, I don’t know if I think you can pull it off- no offense- but it’s something I would do.”

“Is it?” Ellie asked, voice frosty. “And why wouldn’t I be able to pull it off?”

“You’re not underhanded,” Cullen offered, giving her one of his cheesy, romantic smiles. Elli fought the urge to roll her eyes at him. His affection for her wasn’t exactly a secret, but she had no patience for it. Ellie had never truly considered becoming involved with a shem. It wasn’t that she hated the idea, but the cultural differences always seemed too big a gap to bridge.

“I can be underhanded!“ she argued. The whole table looked uncomfortable for a moment, trading glances, and Ellie knew immediately they were deciding whether to contradict her. It set her teeth on edge when they did this. “I can be underhanded. How do you think my clan stayed so well fed? I stole and tricked merchants all the time!”

“I did not just hear that!” Josephine said. “And so, if that ever comes to light, I can deny that without guilt!”

“You’re a straightforward woman, boss. I’m sure you’re an excellent thief, but you’re no Ben-Hassrath,” Bull shrugged.

“You lie about as well as Cassandra,” Varric said, peering over his tankard at her. She stuck her tongue out at him, willing to lower herself to juvenile behavior in her irritation.

“I could do it,” she insisted. “We all know he’s attracted to me, and I don’t care about his feelings. I really could do it.”

“Of course you could, Inquisitor,” Cassandra assured her, but it was simple placating.

“I’m going to!”

“Now, Ellie, I don’t know how smart that is,” Josephine said in a moment of rare casualness. “It’s not a good idea.”

“Why not, Josie?” Sera asked. “I think it’s right smart.”

“It was your idea,” Cullen reminded her in exasperation.

“So?”

“I’m going to do it. Sera’s right. He has pulled his punches. If we know that, we need to take advantage of it. And he’s been trying to contact me anyway.”

“Maybe Inky could get some proper sleep if he stops botherin’ her. Getting his rock off might just make that happen.”

“Sera!” Josephine exclaimed. “Do not talk about the Dread Wolf “getting his rocks off” ever again!”

“Dread Wolf- he’s such a tosser,” Sera scoffed.

“He didn’t give himself that name,” Ellie told her. “But he did let it stick…”

“Exactly!”

“You should not do this, Inquisitor,” Cassandra butted in, stopping the tangent before it became a series of insults thrown at Fen’Harel by the two elves.

“It’s a good idea,” Bull repeated. “I don’t how it’ll end up though. Probably not smart to go into this blind, boss.”

“I know him.”

“He lied to you for-“

“I know him,” she repeated, voice solemn. ”I might have known his true name, but I knew him then and I know him now. I wish I did not, but I do.”

It was settled that day in the tavern, that she would try to exploit his feelings. The guilt she expected was absent, and it was both a blessing and a curse. But every time she wavered, she remembered that day, after fighting through swarms of qunari, exhaustion clawing at her, hopelessness seizing her, that day before the eluvian. She remembered his ‘explanation’.

“I would not lay with you under false pretenses…”

He’d been a liar, but that lie had hurt the most. Because he had. That night, the night he’d broken her heart in Crestwood, before his confusing proclamation that he didn’t want to distract her, they’d “made love.” He’d been lying to her as he fucked her, kissing her face, pretending to worship her, yelling out her name like it was a fucking prayer... He had meant none of it. He couldn’t have.

She did not feel guilty.

Still, this was not as easy as she had expected. For three nights she went without sleeping, hoping against hope the Dread Wolf would not catch her scent, as it were. The servants were the first to notice, obviously, and her maids began leaving dream pillows hidden in her mattress. She laughed at the discovery, but left them where they were and drank bracing cups of his hated tea.

But sleep had to take her eventually, and on the third night she finally stopped fighting it. After a long day of drills, planning in the war room, and arguing with Cullen about her decision, Ellie retired to her large, cold bed. She’d stoked the bed and put on her most comfortable silk sleeping clothes. They’d been a joke gift from Sera, a risqué red silk shift. It was Orlesian, and if Ellie wasn’t sure Sera had stolen it she would have refused it.

She fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, the smell of lavender and other sweet herbs carrying her into the Fade.

Awareness came slowly, something rather unusual. Ellie had always found slipping into the Fade easy, something that had impressed and delighted Fen’Harel when he’d first met her. This time she struggled to gain her footing. When she did, she was unsurprised to find herself in an unfamiliar forest. The vegetation was untamed, untouched by anyone. There was no hint of habitation by anything but the natural flora and fauna.

Moving forward, Ellie watched the way the sunlight streamed through leaves far above her head. She followed the barest hint of a pathway, not unlike the deer paths she’d walked as a child with her clan. This was a forest in midsummer, a welcome sight when in the waking world she was suffering through a particularly harsh winter high in the mountains. Skyhold was many things, but naturally insulated was not one of them. Heating the place was a nightmare. A nightmare she had to deal with quite a bit.

She relished the feeling of warm sun on her face.

Suddenly she felt a presence behind her, watching her. She turned, unsurprised to find the path behind her empty. Ellie had expected he’d be playing games with her. Leave it to the blasted wolf to delay an important conversation.

“Come out into the open Fen’Harel, I know you stalk my shadow.”

“Stalk your shadow?” his voice called out, the melodic tones sending an involuntary shudder down her spine. “Is that what I’m doing?” he sounded unjustifiably amused.

“Yes it is. If you would like to speak to me, do so openly. I know that might be hard for you, but I’d prefer it.”

His chuckle echoed through the forest, coming, it seemed, from every direction. She barely restrained a frustrated growl. Whydid he need to play games?

“I won’t put up with you for very long, Wolf,” she spat. “Show yourself and start talking or I’ll take my leave.”

“You’re not being very patient, Vhenan,” he muttered, sounding a bit put out.

She whirled around, having pinpointed the source of his voice. His lupine figure was behind her, his black fur stark against the backdrop of the forest. “Don’t call me that!” she hissed, eyes narrowing.

Any of her plans flew from her head suddenly as she was overcome with anger. She almost let loose an arc of lightning in his direction before she came back to her senses. “What do you want?”

He was silent for a long moment, watching her with his elvhen eyes in a canine face. The sight unsettled her. She noted the way his eyes roved her body, reminded suddenly of her state of undress. She could tell he appreciated Sera’s gift.

“Your dress…” he began.

“You called me to the Fade to talk about my dress?” she asked incredulously. She tried to sound as annoyed as possible, but was secretly thrilled that this was working. She’d distracted him, that was for certain.

“No, inquisitor. Only, I wonder who you wear it for. Not me, certainly?”

“How dare you!” she barked, narrowing her eyes at him. She tried not to overdo it, not wanting to come off melodramatic, but her outrage was a bit overwrought.

He nodded, eyes thoughtful. “But you do wear it for someone?” he pressed.

She was delighted at her success, but she pushed that away, instead focusing on the real anger she felt. He had no right to question her this way. She could fuck whoever she wanted. He had forfeited any right to that information. And that was exactly what she told him.

“Shove off, Dread Wolf. I need not tell you anything. You’ve lost any right to my truth.”

“Apologies, Inquisitor. Only, my spies have noticed the time you spend with your Commander. Cullen values you.”

“Cullen and I are not involved,” she scoffed. She regretted the words as soon as she said them. Mayhaps his jealousy would be helpful.

But she’d already said them, and he relaxed visibly at that.

“Sera and I have become lovers,” she snapped, eyes narrowed. When she saw his reaction she allowed herself a cruel smile.

“Sera?” he asked. His whole body had tensed, his eyes taking on a red tint. The sight made goose pimples rise on her skin. She nodded and he began pacing a bit back and forth before her. It reminded her of the way the hounds paced in their kennel before the kennel master allowed them out for their exercise. Her smile widened.

“We bonded over a mutual hatred for Fen’Harel,” she replied truthfully. He flinched.

“Ma Vhenan,” he began, but she put up a hand.

“No. I am not. If you wish to speak to me, stop hiding behind your mask. I won’t speak to the wolf any longer. Let me see your face.”

Ellie knew that she couldn’t seduce a wolf quite as well as she could a man, but reading a lupine face was also much harder than an elven one.

Fen’Harel nodded, and suddenly the large black wolf was replaced with Solas. He’d changed in the time they’d been apart, in ways that surprised her. He’d grown a dark head of stubble, jarringly different than his usual baldness. It took her aback for a moment before she remembered the murals she’d seen recently of him. He’d had locks in the murals, long ropes of hair reaching his waist. It was obvious he was trying to differentiate himself from homely, plain apostate and return to his status as a god. It was way he wore the blasted pelt and the grand armor.

He was as beautiful as before, his narrow gray eyes peering out from beside her long strong nose. The dimple in his chin sent a sharp stab of pain to her heart. This was Solas, her Solas, and she was both in awe and filled with rage at the sight of him.

The urge to rush him took her over suddenly. She fade-stepped towards him, fists raised to beat his chest before she could even stop herself. The roar she let out felt inhuman. She was reminded immediately of that night in Crestwood, when he’d broken it off, the way she’d hit him, the way he’d taken it. This time he did no such thing.

Fen’Harel seized her arms before she could strike him, grip tight on her wrists. She stared up at him, taken aback by his actions. She shouldn’t be though, right? They were enemies now. Of course he wouldn’t let her strike him. But the look in his eyes wasn’t angry. He looked…hungry.

“Vhenan, I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he warned. The term of endearment spurred her on. She struggled in his grip, yanking away, fully expecting him to release her. Instead, the Dread Wolf offered her a wicked smile and pulled her closer.

“Let me go,” she insisted. She should be glad for this development, thrilled that she was moving closer towards success, but instead she was terrified of what was happening. Her struggles became painfully real, but the wolf didn’t let her go.

“I am your friend no longer,” he reminded her.

“You were never my friend, Fen’Harel,” she spat. “You were a traitor from the beginning.”

“We were more than friends,” he insisted. “We were closed than that.”

Leaning down, he let his breath tickle at the tip of her ear, sending a shiver through her straight into her belly. She wondered if it was arousal or fear. Perhaps it was both.

“You lied to me, hurt me, hurt my friends, my scouts. You killed my people.”

“And you killed mine,” he countered, lips brushing against her ear as he spoke.

“But before all of this, we were more…” he reminded her. “Remember when I was inside of you? How did it feel.”

She pulled her head back, sending him a poisonous look. “In the light of what you are, it felt like a violation,” she told him, eyes cruel.

He growled, ducking towards her and crashing his lips into hers. She gasped at his action, opening up her mouth to his roving tongue. He delved into her mouth, and she let out an involuntary moan. Their kiss lasted several moments before he pulled away.

“I never forced you, Ellana,” he said, voice hard. “Did I?”

She stared up at him, eyes wide, but didn’t answer. The taste of him was back in her mouth, and for a moment she was lost in the sensation of his hands on her body once again. She could each place their bodies touched, the way his chest was flush against her own, the way his erection- something she was both horrified and thrilled to discover- pressed against her belly. Her skin felt tight, her face too warm.

“Did I force you, Vhenan?” he whispered once more.

She nodded her head before licking her lips, as if inviting another kiss. His eyes followed the movement, becoming hooded as he watched her tongue.

“You wanted me, wanted me inside you, didn’t you?”

She nodded again, face flushing with a minor sense of embarrassment. He chuckled.

“I want to hear you say it,” he commanded. She felt another flush of arousal in her groin. She stared up at him, taking in his freckles, his eyes, the way they turned down at the corners, the way his eyelashes curled. She was silent for a long time. This was the fork in the road, the last chance for her to turn back, to return to her bed and forget about this insane plan.

Then his eyes travelled back to her lips, and she melted. “I want you inside me now,” she admitted. He smirked down at her, hands leaving her wrists to encircle her body before resting on her ass. She pushed against those hands, wriggling into his touch.

It had been much too long since she had been touched like this by anyone but herself. She’d been celibate since Solas had left her and returned to reveal he was the Dread Wolf. It had been actual years since she’d been touched like this. The way his hands felt, hot against her backside was intoxicating.

“I think I can arrange that,” he promised her, lids dropping even lower as he watched her pant for him.

She huffed. “Stop with this, come on, Dread Wolf, fuck me.”

His eyes widened slightly at the words before he nodded. With a quick movement he swept her onto the ground, resting her on a bed of unnaturally soft grass. Her long hair spread out around her and he took a moment to run his fingers through the strands. “I missed this,” he murmured. She rose a single brow at that, but didn’t question it. “Soft as silk, silver as the moon,” he explained. His words sent a spear of heat towards her groin, and she grabbed the back of his head impatiently, yanking his lips towards hers.

His teeth bumped against hers, and their lips mashed together awkwardly for a moment, but after the initial confusion he took control, kissing her with a fervor she remembered all too well from the last time. He kissed her like it was the end of the world, and just like last time, she wasn’t sure if that was unreasonable or not. She kissed him back just as fiercely. She pushed every bit of passion, fear, anger, and betrayal she felt towards him into the kiss, pressing so close to him she was sure they would both bruise from the intensity of it.

The last time, Solas had been passionate, but ultimately gentle. He’d been conscientious, drawing out the foreplay until she’d come for him twice before taking her, but his hands ripped at her dress so forcefully this time that the felt the skin chafe. His hands found her breasts immediately.

He was ravaging her, ravishing her, ruining her. His hands left a trail of pain and pleasure. He stroked her nipples and pinched them, he jabbed fingers into her hips and caressed them in the next breath, and when he reached the apex of her thighs, he was gentle and rough in the same movement. He rubbed her clitoris just like he knew she liked it, circling it lightly, long slender fingers nimble as he began to draw a climax out of her, but when he penetrated her he didn’t start with one. He went in with three whole fingers, thrusting them in and out slowly, spreading her wetness onto them all while his mouth worked welts into her skin.

She gasped at the sudden intrusion, uncomfortable from the stretch for a moment, but them he picked up speed and the pleasure began outpacing the pain. She moaned into the forest air, breath wild as he brought her closer and closer to the edge.

“Scream for me, Vhenan,” he groaned against her neck. She moaned at the words, moving her hips into his thrusting fingers. Suddenly his thumb was on her clit, stroking it lazily. She did cry out then, feeling the sharp spark of her climax nearing. He was relentless in his teasing. He didn’t apply enough pressure to make her come, just enough to keep her wanting more. Suddenly, he removed his hand, moving up her body once more to face her. She whined.

“Please, please,” she begged, resting her forehead against his. He grinned at her before reaching down between them. With a single harsh stroke against her clit she came. She screamed into his shoulder, biting him as the climax reached its peak, making him groan with her.

When she was done and her vision had cleared, she saw him above her, eyes dark, mouth curling into a satisfied smile.

“My turn,” he gloated. She only blinked at him. She reached between them without a thought, taking his erection in hand. He let out only a single grunt at the touch. She wasn’t surprised he was trying to control his reactions, but it still angered her. Ellie tightened her grip on his shaft, give it a solid stroke before rubbing the tip with her thumb. He let out a much louder moan at that, and she smiled up at him in victory.

She gave him one more stroke before guiding his erection to her opening, urging him inside her. Without further hesitation he sank to the hilt, sighing in relief as soon he was sheathed completely inside her. She hissed out a breath at the sensation, reminding once more that she hadn’t done this in quite a while. But unlike last time, when he’d been so concerned with her comfort, Fen’Harel paid no attention. He began thrusting into her slowly, but soon picked up his pace, finding a rhythm quickly. She bounced beneath him, squeezing her thighs around him.

She never wanted to lose this feeling, never wanted him to stop being inside of her. He moved above her faster and faster, his thrusts becoming hard and deep. She let out a gasp with each, feeling his cock hit that sweet spot inside of her over and over. She was nearing another climax without even trying, squeezing herself around him just to heighten the sensation.

Suddenly his thrusts became wild, his eyes falling closed and his mouth falling open as he came. She screamed through her second orgasm soon after, and the two of them collapsed, breathing heavily, limbs suddenly heavy. He rolled them over, letting her lay atop his chest, but he didn’t pull out of her, something she took no issue with. The exhaustion came over her like a crashing wave, and her eyes slipped closed before she realized what was happening.

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #female lavellan #lavellan #solas #solvellan #sera #sera x lavellan #da;i

2 notes · View notes

wildcardsera-blog · 8 years

Note

☄

☄ for a random hc!

sera isnt the best at taking care of herself. she doesnt rlly care about physical appearances so much tho so?? i mean its canon that she cut her own hair with a knife bc it was too in her face. (also shes v butch and the hair fits her aesthetic so everything works out anyways)

but onto the hc: she has kinda fucked up teeth. i think she was spoiled in all the wrong ways as a kid (ie: she ate lots of sweets and has all the material possessions in the world but her guardian was a manipulative bitch who emotionally abused her) so shes used to eating lots of sweets and very little nutrition. dental hygiene wasnt at its peak during this time anyways but still,,, and i think she was also a little sickly. in the vitamin deficiency way, not the “get the cold and die” way.

seras bad at taking care of herself all over. shell eat until shes stuffed one day and forget to eat the next bc shes too busy chatting with people. her guardian didnt teach her an awful lot of practical life lessons (aside from the way high born ppl should act, which doesnt apply to hger now) so she. doesnt always recognize when she isnt treating herself well

two for one combo:

lady emmald was a high born and raised sera to act like one. a shy one who was constantly scared all the people she knew (besides her ‘oh-so-dear’ guardian) hated her, and was ashamed of her elven heritage, but a high born nonetheless. lady emmald is still the high and mighty ‘big guy’ sera thinks about when she gives the impassioned speeches about how rich people fuckin suck and poor people need to band together.

sera tried for a long time to like elven culture. she tried to talk to elves in the alienage- they called her dumb and selfish for refusing such a high standard of living when her guardian died. many of them were jealous and thought she wasted the chance she was given. (the elves in the alienage are the poorest people in the city though- to them it would just look like if cinderella had shattered the glass shoe when the prince brought it to her). she tried to talk to the dalish- they were too snooty about the city elves, they focused too much on the past, they shamed her for believing, even the tiniest bit, in the maker. she interacted with very few people from each group but it was enough to completely turn her away from either of them. and, as things got more dire in thedas, people stuck closer to their convictions. for every elf who accepted sera into their life she met two more that believed what they used ti even more furiously now. she understands that not elves think the same, and that all of them are different. shes just dealt with so much shit in her life that she doesnt want to try so hard to find a person who wont reject her.

#headcanon #Very Long #might come back and touch up the words/details later?#banalsha

2 notes · View notes

dgcatanisiri · 5 years

Text

sarah-1281 replied to your post “So I was going through my ‘dg plays dragon age’ tag and reading my old...”

I thought that was basically what happened. Dorian was able to have quiet flings but never be open about it, never have a relationship. He is the only child of the lord of a noble house and may not have cousins or whatnot to inherit instead. If he doesn't have children the house dies with him and the whole point of noble houses is their perpetuation. Dorian won't get married and insists on being scandalous instead of discreet and that's when Halward chooses mind control over letting him continue to be embarrassing and not get married and have kids and do what he wants on the side.

It’s as much context as anything else - Dorian’s story is not-even metaphor. The only thing that needs to be changed is the reference to blood magic and Dorian’s story would be able to be copied and pasted into literally any other setting. The Tevinter-based subtext is just that - the subtext. It’s not where the story digs in. It doesn’t spend time exploring the reasons that Tevinter demands this. The moment it cares about is Dorian saying “You tried to... change me!” Because of the confrontation, this is all on the level of individuals.

To say nothing of the contortions this puts through what had already been established of Tevinter - I’ve said before, the mere existence of Maevaris Tilani puts a lie to everything in Dorian’s story, because she is a trans woman in the ranks of the Magisterium, a trans woman who transitioned young, without siring an heir, certainly incapable of bearing one, and married a dwarf, all of that in a land that values magic to the point of wanting to distill it into “the perfect mage.”

It doesn’t matter how well-connected you are or the honeyed words you can drip in someone’s ear, that’s the kind of thing that, if the society is as conservative as Dorian’s story wants us to believe it is, especially if we’re putting Halward’s actions at the foot of Tevinter as a whole and not him as an individual, like the story clearly wants, at best, gets you reassigned to the equivalent of Antarctica, at worst gets you and your family killed.

If this is something that was part of Sera’s background, however, that the culture in the alienages is that they all get married for the sake of reproduction, that same-sex pairings are fine so long as they can still have kids, that’s different - it’s the difference of oppressed people doing something out of necessity over the nobility doing something out of a sense of smug superiority.

Likewise, I’m talking about it being a piece of Sera’s backstory, as opposed to her personal quest like it is with Dorian - Dorian’s entire character arc in the game as is revolves around hitting the player with the “homophobia = bad!” anvil, at the expense of giving him any other character development. While Sera’s not exactly much better in the game as is, I’m saying this is a part of her character history, but not where the camera focuses - it’d be something she might allude to in turning down a male Inquisitor, something she brings up to a romanced Inquisitor, POSSIBLY to a maxed approval, but it wouldn’t be the heart of her character quest.

It’s like what I say about Cullen’s story having queer resonance but not being “the queer story” or Cole’s arc having elements of a coming out narrative, that the parts of it that are based in what is Existing As Queer are there and subtextual, but the story proper still manages to stand alone if the character weren’t queer - we can understand running away from arranged marriages without that being something that only queer people experience, the fear of entering adulthood, the desire to hold on to the things of our childhood, especially when those things are the only real stability we’ve had in our lives.

Because that is what I’ve repeatedly harped on over and over, I want explicitly queer characters in my media, AND I want them to exist in ways that don’t make their queerness their defining trait, that if you were to write a gay character as straight (my opinion of that act in and of itself aside), their story and arc would not be altered by it, because queer characters are more than just their queerness, but most of the time when they appear, it’s to BE the Token Queer, that their whole purpose in the story, their reason for existing, is to act as a message of how hard it is to be queer, isn’t it wrong that we put queer people through these things, watch as a queer person goes through these things so you know how hard it is to be queer and understand that being queer is difficult and angsty.

Like all I’m looking at with this is that it’s a part of her background and character, but it isn’t her arc, while it better fits the established world, considering what we saw in Origins and the City Elf origin, instead of shoving it in at the last minute when it bumps up against previously established stuff about Tevinter - I mentioned Maevaris above, Fenris in the original post, and let’s also add that, even acknowledging his tendency to romanticize it, the fact that Anders, a bisexual man, has no mention of it - hell, tying those last two together, you’d think Fenris would have brought it up in banter or something about why Anders running off to Tevinter is no better than remaining in Chantry lands.

There is plenty of places where making Tevinter society - or at least Tevinter nobility - explicitly homophobic doesn’t quite fit with the established universe and lore. But the alienages enforcing at the least a heterosexual marriage, if not a faithful one, as a way of both marking adulthood and to ensure the existence and survival of the next generation in the face of oppression is honestly the way to interpret a City Elf Warden who romances a same-sex partner in Origins and still being gay.

On top of that, the City Elves have been WOEFULLY underdeveloped, and I’d sooner have seen them get the societal development over Tevinter, especially considering that all indications are that we’re going there next game - it’s a place, a culture, a society, that we’re already going to be immersed in, as opposed to the overlooked one of the City Elves and the alienages.

#sarah-1281 #dg replies #dg plays dragon age #another angry queer rant

0 notes