#the one at my side ( cadri & thora ) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theharellan · 5 years

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ANSWER THE FOLLOWING SO PEOPLE KNOW HOW SHIPS WORK ON YOUR BLOG

WHAT’S YOUR OTP FOR YOUR MUSE?

solas / ian ( @theshirallen ) is my fave and i’ll never get tired of it thank u.

HOW LARGE DOES THE AGE GAP HAVE TO BE TO MAKE IT UNCOMFORTABLE? :

seeing as solas is literally 1000s of years old, age gaps are inevitable. even other ancient elves have centuries of difference between him and them. as i said on my multi, i find it’s relative. 50 and 43 isn’t uncomfortable, 25 and 18 is. what makes a lot of solavellan uncomfortable isn’t that there’s an age gap -- there’s always an age gap -- but that they play up lavellan as a naive ingenue or otherwise emphasise the age thing, often playing up a teacher/student dynamic (which isn’t even why solavellan has such potential imo, as i’ve said before it’s an equal relationship where both sides learn a lot). when the character is less than 28-ish i tend to steer away, but also it’s all how you handle it.

ARE YOU SELECTIVE WHEN SHIPPING? :

i mean i’m single ship so? yes???

HOW FAR DO STEAMY MOMENTS HAVE TO GO BEFORE THEY’RE CONSIDERED NS/FW?

generally i tag anything with nudity as nsfw. i don’t write smut on this blog so much as sensual asexual fantasies if there are vague references to arousal, etc, then i tag it.

WHO ARE OTHER MUSES YOU SHIP YOUR MUSE WITH?

romantically i only ship solas with ian.

platonically i think one of the most important canon relationships for me is solas and cole’s friendship, tho i’m also fond of his friendship with tal-vashoth bull. i also love his friendship with cadri cadash and my own inquisitor, thora. for slightly combative relationships, his quasi-friendship-sometimes-not-so-much with inara (valorcorrupt) is very good.

ANY NOTPS? :

depending on how it’s written, solavellan. it can either be like amazing or deeply unsettling in ways that weren’t intended by the content creator. it’s a ship with a lot of potential to push both characters in new and exciting ways but often the worst parts get romanticised, exaggerated, or totally made up and based on like one (1) line that wasn’t meant to be taken literally.

i’m also not a fan of solas/f!trevelyan but mostly bc i’m bitter that the second most common solas pairing is just another m/f pairing where solas is shipped with pretty cis white women.

DOES ONE HAVE TO ASK TO SHIP WITH YOU? :

yep! whatever the relationship, communication is good. it avoids projection so i’m allowed to make choices for my solas and you’re allowed to make choices for your character.

HOW OFTEN DO YOU LIKE TO SHIP? :

not particularly often, i tend to prefer one or two ships per character and then just go super hard on them.

ARE YOU MULTISHIP?

on solas i’m single ship, romantically speaking. platonically i’m open to relationships w/ multiple inquisitor friendships and canons, ocs, etc.

ARE YOU SHIP-OBSESSED OR SHIP MORE-OR-LESS? :

more-or-less??? idk i can get super invested, i’ve written thousands upon thousands of words for joly and about solas/ian, but i don’t ship a lot of things beyond “oh that’s cute” and prefer to limit my number of ships in rp b/c i want to be invested and want invested partners.

WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE SHIP IN YOUR CURRENT FANDOM? :

im gonna die with the word solian on my lips probably.

for canon in-game ships tho i think sera/dagna has the potential to drown the world in precious.

FINALLY, HOW DOES ONE SHIP WITH YOU? :

just ask! if we haven’t rped tho i’ll probably want to send them on a test drive to see if we have chemistry. also if you want to ship romantically i have my dragon age multi (here) and my inquisitor (here tho i’m still trying to figure out if i want to move her blog).

TAGGED BY: @tethrist thank u friend

TAGGING: you!!!

#( ooc )#[ under the cut b/c theres some fandom/ship critical stuff. not much tho ]#( about me )#( mod notes )

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cloudgazercadash · 6 years

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the direct aftermath of this thread, after her conversation with ian thora seeks out solas.

Magic swells in the air, and in Ian’s wake the smell of ozone lingers. It stinks like the ground after a storm, and she can almost taste his anger he had kept in a tightly curled fist. Tears sting the corners of Thora’s eyes now that she is alone, which she swipes furiously from her eyes. In silence, she scolds herself, forbidding a single tear to run down her cheek. She stands rooted to the floor, afraid that if she were to go to her balcony she’d catch sight of a red wolf darting through Skyhold’s gates, and the emotions of the last few minutes would boil over in the worst possible way.

Ian had bid her rest, and for a moment she wants to listen, but she sees the red wolf again in her mind’s eye: fur haggard, feet bruised, canine teeth bared in frustration, and-- Solas.

Someone should tell him Ian had returned safely, and she doubts any guard that he passed on his way in or out would think to seek Solas out. She abandons her quarters, eager to allow time for the magic to dissipate. The Well’s voices swirl inside her head, whispering words in an ancient tongue she cannot yet comprehend, and won’t, not until the present is seen to.

When she comes upon the rotunda she finds it empty. Space has been cleared for a new mural, the scaffolding shifted so that he might reach, but the artist is nowhere to be found. She tries not to panic as she looks, bile rising in her throat she she fights off thoughts that she had driven them both off. The denizens of Skyhold hail her as she approaches, and all she can afford them is a brief, forced smile before she continues on her way.

She finds him at last by the healing tents (it should have been obvious, she thinks, with Ian so occupied by his own troubles). He kneels upon wet grass, sleeves pulled up to his elbows, one hand waving over an elven woman’s forehead. Her eyes are closed in fitful sleep, muttering words too quiet for Thora to hear. Magic glows in Solas’s palm, gentle, and the woman’s brow smooths, as though her nightmare had been replaced with a sweet dream. Solas’s expression changes, as well, a look of concentration melting into exhaustion.

Thora clears her throat as he straightens, and his head snaps in her direction. Despite his weariness he manages a smile. “I did not expect your company.”

“Yeah, uh, do you-- do you have a minute?” She casts a sideways look at the injured and wonders if it is selfish to ask, having no way of knowing who had yet to be tended to. “It can wait, this is more important.”

Solas nods, however. “Your timing is impeccable, I was about to rest a while, and allow my magic a chance to rejuvenate.” He turns to a washbasin and dips his arms in, elbow-deep. Blood seems to melt from his skin, water lifting the stains in the grooves of his palms. When he lifts them out his hands are steaming, and clean enough that the sleeves of his sweater can be puled back down over his forearms. She waits, shifting between her feet as Solas observes a ritual of his own. He reaches for a half-empty cup and tosses back its contents, face twisting as he swallows. “Eugh, cold tea,” he shivers. “Somehow it is worse than when it is warm.”

“Then why drink it?” Solas looks at her with a crestfallen expression, and it is only then she realises that had been meant for her amusement.

Still, it isn’t his nature to refuse a question. “That would be a waste,” he mutters. “And it stabilises my magic in a manner less forceful than lyrium, if given time.” He sets aside the now-empty cup, then gestures towards the stairs that lead up to the barracks. “I sense you would prefer privacy?” Solas pauses, awaiting the anticipated nod before they proceed.

She is silent during the ascent, her brain turning Ian’s words over in her head, wondering (panicking) about some elf a century from now telling the tale of Cadash the Crook, who had blundered into a temple and stolen history from the hands of the elves. Her stomach pinches, and her throat closes, and she chastises herself for being so selfish. For thinking first of how she will be perceived.

“Your steps are heavy,” Solas notes. “What’s on your mind, my friend?”

Thora smiles at the endearment, no matter how small it may be, but she dies quickly when she remembers what she found him to say. “I thought you should know: Ian returned, albeit briefly.” She glances up in time to catch the frown impressed into Solas’s features.

“I expected--” He stops himself. “I heard his howl not long ago, I had hoped it marked his return.” At the top of the steps he approaches the parapets, hands clasping behind his back. Perhaps this trick worded wonders amongst humans and fellow elves, but with his back to her his hands are not far below her eye level. It’s hard not to notice how his knuckles glow white when one hand squeezes the other. She hesitates, then reaches out to touch his wrist with her unmarked hand. A smile curls the corner of his lips, but even from here she notices how it does not meet his eyes. For all the Inquisition’s observations of his dour nature, he wore his joy proudly. His genuine smiles are always unguarded. “Do you know why he is not here to tell me this himself?”

Their reunions had always been almost sickeningly sweet, enough to make Cadri gag when she witnessed them. She smiles as she remembers the first time she saw Ian launch himself at Solas upon their return (and how Solas had caught him every time since the first time), but again the smile is brief, fading before she responds. “He came to me. To talk about what happened in the Temple of Mythal. About the Well.” Thora winces at the mere mention, anticipating another reproach. For now, however, Solas holds his tongue, though she notes how one hand briefly squeezes the other.

“I see,” he says, as if she had explained everything.

“He wasn’t happy.”

“I suspect not.”

Thora draws level with Solas, resting her elbow against the stone. Over the wall she spies another regiment of soldiers returning from the Wilds, bearing the telltale signs of a hard-fought battle. She breathes out heavy, and her breath rises before her eyes in a puff of vapor. “I’d never seen him so angry. I knew reversing the rite makes everything he feels more powerful, but-- I guess sometimes I forget it’s possible for him to even get angry.”

“I suspect this would have angered him, regardless, and rightly so.”

“You wanted to make him mad?”

“No, never,” he answers quickly, before she can accuse him of worse. “But his anger is preferable to the alternative.”

“I’d say so,” she says with a nod. “The voices are... well, sometimes they’re almost too much for me, and given everything he’s going through I don’t think he could take it.”

For a moment she receives no response. The wind that blows down from the Frostbacks chills her, and if she didn’t know better she’d say Solas summoned it. Suddenly he seems cold, the same frustration she had felt in Ian. Quieter, more restrained, but the same. “I disagree. No one present at that moment was more qualified than Ian, in heritage and in education, as well as fortitude.”

Her stomach drops, and all she can do is sputter for a minute before she finds words. “You said--”

“I said I did not want Ian to drink from the Well, not that preventing him from drinking was the right thing to do, nor even the best thing to do.” Thora’s mouth goes dry and she swallows hard (or tries to). A flicker of anger lights in her stomach, which she clenches to douse it. That spark will do nothing but burn if stoked here, and she still has enemies to use it on.

“Then why tell me to drink it?” she asks in a quiet voice.

“I did not say that, either,” he responds, voice dropping until it barely rises above the wind.

“Now you’re just being ridiculous,” she sighs. His lips curl, but this time it isn’t fondly. “Not me, not you, not Ian, not Morrigan.” Thora counts off on her fingers. “Who, then?”

“Preferably speaking? No one. The knowledge the Well holds is vast, but itis not worth the cost. Practically speaking...” Solas falters, failing to finish his own thought, allowing it to dangle endlessly until she gives up on hearing an answer.

“I don’t get it.” There’s a lot about this she doesn’t get, some of which she’s afraid to ask. “You always talk about history, remembering the past, what’s in this Well that you think deserves to be forgotten?” ‘And how do you know about it?’ is the question she desperately wants to ask, but she holds her tongue, fearing it will sound too much like an accusation.

“It is not about the knowledge, but the cost of said knowledge.” As he speaks his voice steadily rises, and she sees his hands tighten once more. “Did you hear what Abelas said? You are bound forever to the will of Mythal!” he snaps, his gentle melancholy gone in a flash.

“But--” Her stomach drops, feeling like she had been slapped. “I thought you didn’t believe in the Elvhen gods.” She remembers conversations held at her heel, the Seeker and the Apostate sharing words of faith. People, he had said. He believed in people. Those words had filled her with hope, and she wondered if it meant he believed in them.

“I do not believe they were gods, but-- I believe that they existed!” His confession falls like stones form his lips, and all she can do is stare open-mouthed, watching his brow come together. “Nor do I believe that anyone with such power over the hearts and souls of others could ever be wholly benevolent.” Hands unlink, and one runs over his head as if combing through a long-abandoned mane of hair. Solas moves from her side, pacing along the battlements and back again, only allowing her brief glimpses of his expression. His brows and lips twist into an ugly frown, but behind the frustration there is despair, and resignation. “You are Mythal’s creature, now-- it is done.” There is a finality to that sentence that traps air in Thora’s throat, and she forces herself to breath in through her nose, out through her mouth. In through her nose, out-- “Can you see why I did not want such a fate for you? For Ian?” he asks, turning on a naked heel to gesture emphatically in her direction.

Thora goes silent, sucking on her teeth. “I--” She wants to cry, and the lump in her throat swells until she swears she could choke to death on it. “I don’t-- I’ve never known anything about belonging to any god, good or bad.” For a moment it’s all she can think to say, and she feels stupid for saying it.

“Consider yourself blessed in that regard.”

His blunt reply almost inspires laughter, but all she can do is breathe. She thinks of the brand upon Ian’s forehead, and the scars she’s glimpsed on his wrists. She touches her own brand, her cheek hot beneath her fingers. “... You were trying to protect him.”

“A charitable reading of my motivations.” The fury melts from him, the rigidity in his shoulders slackening. “I fear I was merely protecting myself from the idea of anyone controlling him, and instead I became guilty of it myself.” Solas stops in his tracks, back turned to Thora. His face is hidden, but his head bows and she can imagine the look on his face.

She thinks of Ian’s accusation, of how he compared this sin to the undoing of the Rite of Tranquility. It draws goose pimples to the surface of her skin. She doesn’t speak it, instead passing it off as a sudden chill. “We both did what we thought was right. That’s all we can do. If it turns out we were wrong, we’ll figure out why, and do better next time.”

Solas turns, and for the first time since he’d said hello, his smile is genuine. The corners of his eyes wrinkle with age and gratitude, the sight of them bringing a grin to her face despite the lingering urge to sob. “Thank you, Thora. I shall remember those words of wisdom in the days to come.”

“It’s about time I taught you something.”

“You already have, more times than you could imagine. You are as much of an inspiration to myself as you are to the rest of the Inquisition.” His eyes return to the horizon as he speaks (away from her, thankfully, for she feels her whole face blushing from the compliment).

“Please,” she snorts. A lull follows, his words still mulling around in her head, digesting like a heavy meal. All this time she had assumed logic was paramount to Solas’s worldview, even during Ian’s Tranquility he had approached her with practical reasons as to why she ought to pursue a reversal. Love had never passed his lips, even if it had been on both their minds. She wonders if it has always been this way, if his heart has always led him, as it led her (as it led Ian). If that is what it takes for an elf to be listened to, in order to be taken seriously. Another wave of guilt passes over her as she remembers the anguish on Ian’s face as he tried to explain everything. She looks up, towards the mountains, foolishly hoping she might see a wolf ready to hear her apology.

Instead, she sees Solas swaying in her corner vision, looking as though she’s searching for the same. “I should thank you, as well. I feel like I’ve learned a lot, even if I”m leaving with more questions.”

He smirks half-heartedly. “I would have thought you accustomed to this by now.” Another silence passes between them. Down below the gates open to accept the newest soldiers back into Skyhold’s waiting arms. Among them, no doubt, will be inured soldiers, men, women, and others in need of Solas’s skills. Thora opens her mouth, ready to suggest this to Solas when he cuts in before her first syllable. “Allow me one last piece of advice?”

“Go ahead.”

“Before-- you said you did not believe in Ian’s capabilities to withstand the Well’s contents, and I disagreed. I would feel remiss if I did not offer this to you: few have ever believed in Ian, and thus few have seen what he is capable of. The Hero of Ferelden before you saw it, and he got them through the Blight.” Her heart breaks to think of her passing, the first hero Thora’s ever really had. To invoke her memory was manipulative, but it ensures she won’t forget his words any time soon. “My advice is simple: learn to believe in him, especially on days he cannot do so for himself. In time, you will com to regret every day you spent underestimating him.”

Solas moves from her side, placing his had upon her back in passing. “You have my gratitude for coming to me, it could not have been easy. Rest, please. The Inquisition shall have need of its Inquisitor soon enough.”

He leaves her alone on the battlements, her eyes fixed upon the horizon, waiting for Ian’s return.

#we all deserve a second chance ( solas )#( my writing )#v; once more unto the breach #what pride has wrought ( quest )#[ this is how i rp with myself i guess ]

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ourdawncomes · 4 years

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relationship tag drop part 1 (part 2 tba)

romantic

#i have left my gates unguarded ( harding x thora )

#one pair of brown eyes that meant heaven to me ( bethany x merrill )

#hold the mirror up to show me what i chose ( lyna x merrill )

#can i be close to you? ( carver x merrill )

#the green fists of the peonies are getting ready to break my heart ( bastien x vivienne )

#the shape of you ( peace x love )

platonic

#we could be heroes– forever and ever ( solas & thora )

#the one at my side ( cadri & thora )

#what do stars do best? ( miraen & vher )

#i have left my gates unguarded ( harding x thora )#hold the mirror up to show me what i chose ( lyna x merrill )#can i be close to you? ( carver x merrill )#the green fists of the peonies are getting ready to break my heart ( bastien x vivienne )#the one at my side ( cadri & thora )#the shape of you ( peace x love )#we could be heroes– forever and ever ( solas & thora )#one pair of brown eyes that meant heaven to me ( bethany x merrill )#what do stars do best? ( miraen & vher )

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ourdawncomes · 3 years

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HEADCANONS: THORA AND COMBAT

After writing that fic exploring Thora in battle from Solas’ perspective I wanted to talk more about it in a headcanon format. A lot of it has been touched on before because her distaste for it on a moral and purely visceral level influence her decisions as Inquisitor. The following contains discussion / references to vomit so don’t read this if it makes you ill thinking about it!

As a warrior her talent is middling. Adding to this, her style is obviously self-taught at the beginning of Inquisition and obviously clunks. Her greatest talents both in the Carta and as Inquisitor were her negotiation skills and discretion rather than her abilities as a warrior, but you’d be hard-pressed to find a member of the Carta who didn’t know how to kill a man ten different ways.

Unlike in-game, she begins with a specialisation: Beserker. She adopts the style at the suggestion of Lantos when she’s still a girl due to blood and gore often making her sick. As she’s gotten older she’s learned to stomach it a little better, but there are still fights where after she’s woozy, or in worst case scenarios is physically sick. Getting blindingly angry (or blindingly something, she doesn’t actually always use rage) helps distract from the messy parts.

More than physical exhaustion battles leave her emotionally exhausted, often with unshed tears in her eyes and looking peaky. This is more pronounced when fighting humanoid opponents, Red Templars included, and later spirits.

She tries to hide all this at first, thinking it makes for an unleaderly, unheraldy first impression. The first person who catches her is Solas, who helps disguise any pauses with the excuse that he’s checking the Anchor on her hand. As Inquisition goes on the rest of the party does figure out it’s not just the Anchor, with party members like Iron Bull cottoning on quickly. She wouldn’t explain it to all of them, even as they become better friends, opening up to those she feels would best understand.

At Skyhold, rather than recruiting people to train her in a new specialisation, a Beserker from Orzammar is sent. I leave who open, I’m partial to the idea of Oghren (albeit the canon-divergent Oghren who exists in my head and wasn’t written as a bad joke). This improves her technique and makes her deadlier, although Thora’s never a master warrior nor does she particularly want to be. Her skills as Inquisitor and Herald lie always in her negotiation and compassion.

The quest that’s hardest on Thora to the point that she actually has trouble reaching what she needs to fight is Here Lies the Abyss. As I’ve mentioned before, Thora doesn’t see spiders in the Fade but the faces of her companions as they appeared in In Hushed Whispers. The entire time after the little nightmares show up, she’s having to put down people who look like her friends. At one point she has to stop to heave up every last drop of bile in her stomach.

Beserkers yell. A lot. At the end of a day where they fought a lot, Thora has a scratchy throat (often raw if she was sick, but most days she manages to control her gag reflex) and will sound noticeably hoarse, especially given her usual voice is round and warm.

Thora protects through damage output and crippling moves. She’s at a level where most opponents are at a disadvantage, more accustomed to fighting human-sized enemies. Often when people threaten others in the party her first move is to hit them from behind in the knees. It immunises the threat pretty efficiently, but it isn’t pretty.

Her main party through Inquisition rotates through Blackwall, Solas, Cole, Sera, and Cadri, sometimes having a bigger party than the game allows if discretion isn’t an issue. She works best with a sword and shield warrior to supplement the protection she can’t provide and a lot of barriers. After Solas leaves there are growing pains as she learns how to work with other mages after fighting side-by-side with him for three years. Ian will join the party as the only mage who sticks around.

To get the jump on enemies she sometimes leaps off a cliff and brings her hammer down on her enemies in a surprise attack, shielded by a well-timed barrier courtesy of Solas.

In case the above hasn’t made it clear yet: Thora hates violence. After Trespasser, the loss of her arm, and the dissolution of the Inquisition, she makes the decision that she’s going to avoid killing. She reluctantly takes up a hammer and relearns when Dagna’s prosthetic is functional, but she doesn’t reach for it much these days.

#emetephobia tw #write me down in history ( thora | headcanons )#v; once more unto the breach ( thora | inquisitor )#v; and then the dawn came ( thora | trespasser )#[ i saw talk of combat so i figured i should finish this since its been in my drafts since november ]

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