#Da’fen

[vigilskeep]

i think you could make the warden’s mabari a little spooky looking. a little darkspawn tainted. for funsies

#its just funny to me for wraith/garahel/da’fen to be the scariest thing in the party #and his wardens are like A Baby!!!!! #im thinking the very bright white-blue eyes i want grey wardens on the hunt to have #matchy matchy

[thevikingwoman]

Bdsm au ypu say? 👀👀👀 I am.... intrigued...

thank you!

A tag for @little-lightning-lavellan, who also wanted to know about this one :)

So, anyone that knows my writing knows that I do write a lot of smut with dom/sub undertones (or overtones), and usually have Iwyn Lavellan in the dominant role. Usually it's more incidental or gentle, or something that arrives in their relationship along the way.

I could write a whole treatise on sub!Solas, and mostly about Solas in canon (the man just needs to let go, alright?), and as such my modern AUs tend to be lighter on the theme.

Of course, dom!Solas is very popular in the fandom, and there are many modern AU with dom!Solas where Solas is dom in the bdsm community. Usually Lavellan is younger, new to bdsm, and is somehow down and out, and reluctantly Solas takes her on (and falls in love). And it's a fine plot, but I thought of it and wanted to turn this on it's head.

So this started as - I'm not going to write a bdsm AU, but if I did, it would be with Iwyn being a domme, and Solas being sad and miserable and Iwyn 'saving' him.

Then, things got out of hand.

I started writing this in January, and I spend some of 100 Days of Writing outlining and working on this. The plot is ultimately more complex than the above - about love and trust and relationships (and of course also sex). I have about 9-10 chapters in my outline, and like the pirate story I don't want to publish until I'm done (except this in 2022 maybe? lol)

In any case - this is about telling Solas to let go, smack him around and send him to therapy.

Snippets under cut, more than one because sorry I have no chill

Two snippets from the first part

“I like watching people. And I liked watching you.”

He suddenly feels self-conscious. He wasn’t sure what to wear, and decided on a pair of slacks and a button down shirt from the back of his closet. He should have ironed. It’s long since he paid attention to his wardrobe, since he’s gone out like this.

“I – thank you. You look lovely yourself.”

She smiles widely this time, and takes a drink of her own glass. Some champagne cocktail, a red cherry bobbing in the glass.

“Lovely? That’s not what people usually call me.”

“They must be mistaken then.” Solas holds her gaze, and drinks. He feels bold, and telling the truth is easy. “Lovely, and graceful.”

“Usually people beg for mercy before they earn the right. Would you like that? To beg for mercy?”

Solas chokes on his drink.

~

“So sensitive,” she murmurs, and he tenses. It’s been so very long since anyone has touched him. He isn’t sure if he’s embarrassing himself, but everything is bright and here and new. Her touch is all that anchors him, and all he knows.

“You’re doing very well,” she says. “You’re beautiful, da’fen.”

He releases a breath, tension leaving him.

“So turned on, all for me.”

Her hand slides down, down, across his belly and grazes his hard cock. He almost jumps, but holds still, breathing out his self-consciousness. He’s ashamed of how much he wants it, how easy he is. How needy he is. The shame sends another bolt of arousal down his spine. She wants him like this, and for her; he can be – easy, needy, ready.

and something from later, and I hope this will work out in the end, because I love the concept of this scene

"I wanted - you're always so -- " he gestures to Iwyn, wearing a suit and pumps. "I was trying to find a suitable attire and I got caught in some bad memories. Please forgive me." He clutches his dressshirt, rumbling it. "Please."

She gently takes the shirt out of his hands.

"It's alright, Solas. You can dress however you want. I don't care. I already find you handsome." she grins, halfway, in that way that makes his heart pound and his cock twitch, "I prefer you naked anyway."

He blushes deeper. He's embarrassed, he got stuck on a simple thing. His house is mess, and she's here, organized and put together as always, being kind. Flirting with him, as if he somehow is worth something.

#I am FAR too invested in this fic #esp for one started as Im not going to do this #lol #wip ask game #sip shame #only chap 1 is written and it needs SO MUCH edit #help

[sarya-lavellan]

Fandom: Dragon Age

Pairing: Solavellan

Rating: E

Chapter Word Count: 3807

Status: WIP (Chapter 13)

Read on AO3

It was late when she arrived two days after the memorial back in Wycome. The air had grown chillier though still quite comfortable for the time of year. The leaves had just started taking on the hues of red and orange, unlike in Ferelden where they had all just tumbled to the ground, buried instantly in a foot of snow. She picked her way around the docks, replaying memories of Thom until she reached her brother's house. She paused then rapped lightly, waiting to see her son again. The door flung open and Han greeted her with a welcoming grin.

“Back already?” He waved her inside.

“Yeah. I didn’t want to leave you with Ameridan for too long.”

Han sat down in his rocking chair, using his magic to crochet a baby blanket while he whittled away at a tiny bow. His house was cozy and tastefully messy. Filled with all sorts of plants and handmade items tossed about but clean.

“What is all this? Working on some gifts for El?”

“You really are daft sometimes you know that?” Han smirked. “Ameridan is sleeping soundly by the way. He is quite the eater.”

“You know you don’t need to make anything for me. I could just buy it.”

“Or you can accept fine craftsmanship from family as a gift. I want da’fen to always have a piece of his family with him.”

“Already given him nicknames?” She undid her foot wraps and went to him, resting her elbow on the top of the chair.

“What else would you expect from me? He’s the son of the fiercest wolf I know. And I’m not speaking of The Dread Dog.”

She smirked. “I’m not sure about that. Wolves are clever and marvelous beasts.”

She felt like none of those things.

“Need I remind you of your accomplishments?”

“What? How I stumbled, quite literally, into a leadership role. Then was guided by one amazing Josephine Montilyet who should have really been credited for all the Inquisition's best moves and allies?”

“Well I was going to say how you made The Dread Wolf take his place behind you. You achieved that through words. I’d say that’s pretty clever.”

Clever. She laughed inwardly. It wasn’t clever. It was stupid and desperate and a maybe even a little possessive if she wanted to be honest. She took a deep breath and let the thoughts go, they would lead her somewhere she didn’t want to go.

Her brother was too kind. She would allow his compliments to sit with her without disagreement.

“Thank you,” she said.

She wanted to cry. Whether it was the fact that her family had integrated Ameridan into their fold or the fact that her beloved friend had passed or maybe even because one moment she and Solas were attempting to be friends and the next he had rejected her son and recently said that he missed her. She didn’t know. Probably a combination of all of the above. But she threw her arms around Han’s neck and let herself feel. He set the mini bow down in his lap and hugged her back, real tight.

“You didn’t think you were going to do this alone did you?”

She let out a laugh and wiped her eyes. “I was prepared to.”

Han tisked. “Not on the watch of Clan Lavellan. You should know better by now.”

She hugged him tighter.

“I can’t thank you enough.” She snuggled and pulled away.

“Did you see Solas?” Han asked.

She swallowed. Sat down in the chair across from him. She was hoping nobody would ask. Especially Han. “I did. I feel—I don’t know–“ She thought about lying. Wanted to lock all her truths away and lock them up tight. Instead she said, “I feel ashamed.”

“Ashamed?”

“Yes. Not for reasons you would think. I’m not ashamed of choosing Ameridan. But ashamed I had forced Solas’ hand. I am ashamed for not talking to him sooner. For not asking him what he needed or wanted. Before everything that has happened. I am also ashamed that I miss him dearly.”

It was a great weight off her just to say that. Enough to admit it aloud.

He hummed, nodding. He stroked his chin in thought then said, “Why would you be ashamed to miss someone you love?”

“Because I want him back. I want him here.”

“Is that so bad?”

Sarya rocked back and forth watching the blanket come together and then said, “do you remember when we were little and we spent all evening catching fireflies in a jar?”

Han chuckled. “And we brought them inside so we could see them light up our dark room. But you felt bad for them being in a jar so you set them free. I remember Ellana lecturing you until she was blue in the face.”

“Yeah. I remember being so scared mamae would be mad. Especially when some of them had died. But she wasn’t. She explained why nature, no matter how much we love and admire it, is better left alone and admired from afar. Why we should only take what we need and allow it to flourish without our intervention. Better to let what is already free remain that way.”

“Mamae is wise like that,” Han said.

“For some reason that keeps sticking with me.”

“Because you think wanting Solas means you’re keeping him from being free.”

Sarya crossed her arms over her chest. “That’s not–well–I–how did you…”

He threw her a withering look. “You do love to obsess over everything. I happen to know which subject is your current and most frequent.”

She sighed. “I’m tired of it too.”

“I’m not tired of hearing about it or him for that matter. You love him but you’re not sure how it’s supposed to look. I’m more tired for you. Must be exhausting to live in your head.”

“I just feel like it’s better to set him completely free. There’s just too much of our muddied past that gets in the way.”

“When I carve my weapons, in each of them you could find error. Do you think that they are unusable then?”

“Well yeah if the error is something major.”

“Very well. And if that weapon is needed to help the clan would I give them the faulty weapon or would I start anew?”

“Start over of course. But you can’t do that with people!” Sarya cried. “What you carve from your wood has no memory of your mistake.”

Han continued, “But the people receiving the weapon do. Do you think I have never made a weapon that hasn’t been faulty in the hands of a hunter? Papae’s scar on his left forearm is from his staff blade that wasn’t secured properly and fell off while he was casting. It was my fault. He even has the scar to remember that it was me. He could’ve removed me from studying under Master Tawen and I’d never be where I am today unless I had learned from that heart wrenching mistake.”

“And if you’d kept making the mistake, leaving Papae with multiple scars?”

“I would forge a new path for myself, one in which I’m not hurting him. I wouldn’t remove myself from his life.”

“But what if he asked you to leave?”

Han leaned forward in his chair. “Has Solas asked you to stay away from him?”

“Well, no. But maybe he’s afraid to say that.”

This made Han laugh. Sarya was offended that he found it funny. “Not afraid. Just incapable. That stupid man loves you and probably always will.”

“Incapable,” Sarya said. “That’s it. So maybe I should stay away for his own good.”

“Yes, we all saw how good it was for you to stay away,” he said, rolling his eyes. “How was the rotunda by the way?”

Sarya remembered the empty walls. The empty room. The empty air. The emptiness.

She didn’t answer Han.

The magic surrounding the blanket that he was knitting dispersed as it finished and it fell neatly into the basket below. “Look, Sarya, I won’t tell you that you’re soulmates destined to be. Personally I don’t believe in soulmates and people change and even grow apart. You may be bondmates but you’re not bound for eternity. If your heart is truly telling you to let him go then so be it. Your family will be here to support you either way. You want to pursue him? I’ll be happy to support you. You want to let go and grieve? I’ll be here. I will always be here for you. But I will not tell you how to live your life. You must make that decision for yourself.”

Sarya sucked in a breath between her teeth. She never believed in soulmates before and she wasn’t sure if she believed in the concept now. She wanted to. The idea was romantic and sounded somewhat magical. Two people facing the world together, beating everything that tried to break them. Stronger together and all that. That’s what it was supposed to be when two people didn’t keep misfiring at each other.

She had missed Solas while she was at Skyhold and she missed him even now. Every time she looked at her son, she often thought of Solas and how he would parent. How he would look at her, a smile on his face, happy with the name she chose. How he would soothe her anxious mind and rub her tired feet. She thought of how he would constantly feed and carry Ameridan everywhere with him and at the end of the day she’d rub the tension away from his shoulders. She thought of how happy it would make her to hear him call Ameridan theirs. She thought of all the ways they were better together and yet, she knew that her thoughts often didn’t align with her reality. What they could be and what they were seemed entirely too different.

“Do you think he’ll come back?” she asked.

Han bit his lower lip in thought. “Unfortunately, I can’t even pretend to know the answer to that dear sister.”

Sarya sighed.

“Do you want him back?”

“I always do. But it’s unfair. I don’t know how to be with him. Accept him I mean. At least not who he is now. I’m so caught up in our history that I have a hard time seeing our present, let alone what our future could be.”

“Why?” Han asked.

“Why what?”

“Why do you feel you must protect yourself by holding onto the past. What is your worst fear, Sarya?”

Sarya went quiet. “I don’t know,” she finally said. “I’ll think on it. I’m exhausted Han. I’m going to head to bed.” She stopped at the doorway to the room and turned back. “And thank you for this.” She gestured around the room. “For everything.”

He gave her a nod. Picked up the mini bow again. “Goodnight dear sister. Dream well.”

She wandered back to the bedroom where Ameridan’s crib sat in the corner. She peeked over the railing and stroked his little chubby cheek before heading to bed.

Sleep overcame her. And she dreamt of great pain. Multitudes of voices echoing around her. Mouths opened to scream with no words but she felt them–their pain–pooling from a well inside of her and rippling through her. They reached out to her, clawed at her clothes, scratched at her arms. Their faces were melting away and she couldn’t make out who they were. Just knew they were elves by the point of their ears. Desperation was in their eyes.

“What do you need?” she asked. She was turning in circles, searching their faces. But they spoke those ancient words she’d never taken the time to learn. Their hands were on her, pulling her down under water. Plunging her into darkness. Washing her away with sorrows upon sorrows. Solas’ face was there amongst the others and tried to reach out to him. But there was too much chaos.

The scent of death burned in her nostrils and still stung her eyes when she woke in a cold sweat.

“Solas!” she cried. But he wasn’t there and she wrapped her arms around her knees and bowed her head.

Ameridan woke with her, working himself into a great fuss and she threw off the covers and went to him, soothing him with a song as she held him and rocked him.

“It’s okay, sweet one. You’re safe. I’m here. Mamae is here.” As she spoke the words, it brought relief to her own mind too. She stayed up with him for a few hours. Fed him, rocked him, sang to him and eventually fell asleep with him next to her in the bed.

—

Next morning, Sarya was at the beach, toes curled in the cool sand, basking in the rays of sun while enjoying the slight breeze that had come in. Baby Ameridan was fast asleep in her arms and for the first time in such a long while she felt content.

“Too bad you’re sleeping,” she said to Ameridan. “You’re missing out on a beautiful view.” She kissed his forehead.

“I’m not sure he’d even be able to enjoy it if he was awake. He is a baby after all.” Han sat down beside her in the sand. “What are you doing out here?”

“Sometimes you just need to sit in the sun,” she said. “I always remember that the world is bigger than me when I’m here.” She sighed as she stared out across the waves of the sea. A plethora of blues and greens stretched out before and above.

“Hmm yes,” Han said. The waves gurgled against the shore. “I was wondering if you could do me a favor.”

Sarya blinked, coming to from her reveries and admiration. “Whatever you need.”

“I was officially elected for a council seat while you were away.”

Sarya smiled huge. “Really?” If she still had her other arm, she would’ve punched him. “That’s so great! I’m so proud of you! Though slightly pissed I wasn’t there to see it happen.”

He smirked. “Yes well, that just means you should be really proud to help me while I rebuild homes for the elves in the alienage. They deserve to have a community as nice as ours.”

“I agree with you of course. And I’d be happy to help.”

“Good. I’m glad to hear it.” He stood, dusting himself off and smiled down at her. So proud. So loving. And she couldn’t understand it.

Later she was hammering nails into boards with the baby on her back. The consistent whacking soothing her mind in some kind of way. She hummed and the autumn sun warmed the hair on her head. Forgot to eat lunch and didn’t realize time was even passing until Ameridan started fussing on her back.

“Oh.” She set the hammer down and reached for her son, pulling him out to have a look at him. Nearby, her pack sat, a bottle full of halla milk in the side pouch. Another special gift given by her family.

She began to feed Ameridan when Han showed up again, this time with Zevran in tow.

“Zevran! It’s so good to see you! I assumed you’d changed plans and weren’t coming.”

“Yes, well, I was momentarily delayed by some fellow assassins.”

Sarya raised a brow. “I hope you took care of those assassins…”

“It seems one has escaped. But no worries, I will find them soon enough.” Zevran bowed, taking her hand and kissing it in the process. It was as suave and graceful as ever. She never could quite master the finesse and charm that Zev had. “Ah, my dear Inquisitor. I am honored to be in your presence.”

Sarya tucked her hand into her pocket and flushed without meaning to. “Please, just call me Sarya.”

“As you wish. What did I miss?”

“Nothing actually. Just another day of work.”

“Then it seems I lucked out,” said Zevran.

Han laughed. “You really did.”

He and Zevran exchanged smiles and Sarya shook her head. “Han, have you shown him around the market yet?”

Han just smirked. “Nope but I’m planning to now. Care to join us?”

“No, thank you. I need to get Ameridan out of the sun and I promised El I’d help her prep for dinner this evening.”

“I’m a little bummed,” Han said.

“I'm not. I’ve never enjoyed being a third wheel,” Sarya said.

“Your loss.” Han took Zevran’s hand in his own. “See you around.”

“It was a pleasure to see you again.” Zevran threw her a wink.

“Trust me. The pleasure’s all mine,” she replied with a smile then waved them off.

She stayed out for a little while longer, sitting under the shade of the alienage tree, eating some stale sourdough crackers and berries she had packed before self awareness and overthinking kicked into gear. Then she tucked Ameridan back in the carrier, picked up her things and wandered home.

-

In the evening, Sarya helped her sister arrange a tray of fresh bread, cheeses, and fruit while Ellana cooed at Ameridan.

“He’s so precious,” she told her.

Sarya smiled, placing the finishing touches on the tray. “I think so.”

El’s voice lowered. “How are you doing?”

Sarya was surprised. Her sister didn't usually ask those sorts of questions. They’d always been best at bickering.

“Okay, I guess,” Sarya said.

El squeezed her shoulder. “It’s okay even if you aren’t. Becoming a mother is difficult—it can be a heavy transition, especially when you’re grieving a loss. Just–I’m here if you need me, okay?”

Sarya placed a hand over hers. “Thank you, El. That means more to me than you could possibly know.”

Ellana smiled softly.

[continued on ao3]

#solavellan #post trespasser #but canon divergent #solas #Sarya Lavellan #vhenan’ara #chapter 13: solid #solas x sarya #dragon age #dragon age fanfic #bear writes

[thejabberwokk]

14 Days of Dragon Age Lovers

14 Days of Dragon Age Lovers

Prompt: 18. Forbidden

For @14daysdalovers writing prompts :D

Pairing: Female Adaar x Solas (Ego vs Delight)

Rating: R- implied sex, questionable consent, spirits and demons

The naughty ones I can’t write at work, this will verbatim show up in their fic with much more added lol lime artwork at the bottom. 

 18. Forbidden

Draconian eyes stared up through dark lashes. Shifting from gold to fade green and back, the living goddess before him was dazzling, but he was unsure if this vision of beauty was fade induced, or merely the libation he had enjoyed earlier that evening.

“While I know very well I’m a novelty,” her soft voice startled him, “I would appreciate it if you would kindly stop staring.” Clawed hands glide gently up his calves, while fangs glint between her pouting lips. “You do know how I so enjoy leaving you speechless, but I rather hoped it wouldn’t have been this easy, da’fen.”

Dragging a hand down his face, he peered down at her from between curled fingers, a glass of scotch in his other hand resting against the arm of his chair.  “You’re not real, begone with you” he shooed her, then downed the glass, the bitter liquor causing him to grimace in displeasure.

Taken aback, they started, quickly standing and glaring down at him.

 “Not real? How incredibly rude of you. You invited me here in the first place.”  The iridescent sheen of scales along their hips caught the firelight as they tapped a foot, the previous mood of decadence condensing into palpable annoyance.

“This is a dream and she doesn’t have scales, you’ve taken the liberty of a stray thought.” Drawing a long, slow breath, in through his nose, out past his lips. He met the eyes of the creature before him.

As a shimmer of Fade energy ripple down her form, there was only a subtle change; skin shifted to a warm periwinkle, face elongated, hair a deep blue, rams horns turned to Halla. Draconian eyes glared daggers at him, and a flame tipped tail twitched in irritation.

“How would you know if she had scales or not, you’ve yet to bed her.” The creature’s arms crossed against their chest, nostrils flaring in an all too familiar way. 

“She’s kossith, they don’t have scales.”

“And just how,” she pressed a clawed finger into his inner thigh. “Do you,” pressing harder she drew closer. “ Know?” She was firmly nestled between his legs now, dark intent lighting her eyes. Watching him breath deep again, the hint of a flush across his cheeks, she knew she was close to having him.

“Be gone desire. This is both ill received and forbidden.”

They hummed, letting their hands glide to his waist. “Forbidden by who I wonder, ancient one.” Solas had yet to act, to force them from this portion of the Fade, so they grew bolder.

“You’ve enjoyed your other spirit friends' company, why not let us get acquainted.” Their appearance shimmered again, Inquisitor's appearance returning. “I can even give you what you’re aching for, all alone up in this room.” 

A look of utter desperation flickered across Solas’ face and they knew they had them. Fangs gleaming they leaned up, eager to claim his perpetually pouting mouth.

Strong hands grasped them by the horns, holding them but a hair's breadth from their prize. Wide eyed, they startled as a mask of pure devilish dominance took over.

“I’ll lead this dance, dear Desire,” he claimed their mouth in a crushing kiss, their eyes all but glowing from the raw emotion they were about to feed upon.

~*~

Macha awoke with a start, skin flushed, body aching. Her room deep under the keep had gone cold, her fire out, so she gathered her furs around her. Glaring at her cold hearth, her nostrils flared and the embers soon burst to life.

She couldn’t remember the last time she had such a dream, and wasn't sure the last time she had encountered such a spirit or demon. Regardless, whatever possessed her mind, whatever took his face, was definitely better than her imagination.

She had no idea how she was going to meet that man’s eyes come the morrow, what with blushing the shade of purple he was so fond of. Wrapping the furs around her tighter, she scooted out of bed, her feet seeking her slippers and missing.  She hissed, toes touching the icy floor.  Now more annoyed than embarrassed, she fumbled into her slippers, then strode to her hearth to add what wood she had left.

Gazing idly as the flames lapped up the splintered morsels, she felt the Anchor pulse, slow at first, like the beating of another beings heart. Bringing it into view, though she was loath to let go of her furs, she watched as it flared and crackled.

“What, the hell!?” She yelped. The pulsing was growing stronger, forcing her fingers to curl as she fought to dominate it’s will.

“I need to get to Solas, time of night be damned.” She hissed to herself. Trading her furs for a dressing gown and fade stepped to the throne room. The moon shone through the high windows behind the throne, casting spiraling shadows across her path. Walking with purpose, while clutching her palm to her chest, she forced her way through the wards on Solas door. Shadow stepping again, she walked up the final flight of stairs, casting her eyes about the dark room.

‘Solas’ she whispered loudly, ‘Solas!” She turned to look behind her, the wards back in place, then stepped into the room proper.

The light from the open balcony cast a sliver of silver across the floor, across the sleeping form of the man she was seeking. Asleep in his chair, empty scotch glass on the ground beside him, she walked slowly, her mind racing as she drew near. 

He shifted in sleep, his ear tips and cheeks flushed as she reached to gently shake him.

“Solas, wake up,” she spoke softly, nervous energy beginning to dance in her veins. The anchor throbbed, its green energies crackling, casting the elf in an eerie glow. He winced, then peaked an eye open. His brows drew into a scowl, sleep still holding him hostage. 

“Hey, I need your help, da’fen.” Macha reached out with both hands and cupped his face softly, brows furrowed. “Can’t you feel it, wherever in the Fade you’ve gone?”

Squeezing his eyes shut, a wolfish grin appeared on his face, eyes opening slowly, shining silver in the moonlight.

“I didn’t summon you, ‘ma’lasa,”  Voice was rough with sleep, he leaned into her Anchored hand, watching as a blush spread across her cheeks.

 She stared at him, her eyes wide and  lips parted in a surprised smirk. 

“Solas, what are you doing?”  The Dreamer's grin grew, leaning forward he claimed her lips in a crushing kiss.

#14daysdalovers #post deadline #citrus scale #lime #jabberwrites #writing prompt #dragonage

[crackinglamb]

Chapters: 25/? Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age - All Media Types Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Female Lavellan/Solas, Fen'Harel | Solas/Female Lavellan Characters: Felassan (Dragon Age), Varric Tethras, Female Hawke (Dragon Age), Deshanna Istimaethoriel Lavellan, Misyl - OC, Abelas (Dragon Age), Ivuna - Elvhen OC, Dorian Pavus, The Iron Bull (Dragon Age), Bethany Hawke Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Modern Girl in Thedas, Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Pregnancy, Pregnant Sex, and unrelated to that, Mild Kink, negotiated boundaries, Solas Is a Gentle Dom, You can't change my mind, References to Tevinter Nights, Plot Bunnies - Freeform, Mild Angst, Headcannon Glitter, Self-Indulgent, Unrepentant Fluff, The Dad Wolf Rises, This Is My Love Letter to Carly and Solas, Background Relationships, Male-Female Friendship, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Additional Characters to Be Added As They Show Up Series: Part 5 of Til It Squeaks: A Modern Girl's Take on Thedas Summary:

The Breach is sealed. The Qunari invasion of the South was stopped in its tracks. Solas didn't leave. Carly didn't either. Negotiations for the return of the Dales went about as well as expected. The Veil is...in progress.

And is that a cradle?

A sequel to Twist.

NSFW will be marked with **. Beta'd by Iron_Angel. Updates on Tuesday.

Chapter 25 - Fine Dining With Da’Fen

“What are you making?” he asked, familiar by now with her occasionally random urges to cook Earth food.

“I want chicken fingers and fries.”

“Excuse me?”

“I've been dying for something deep fried and delicious.”  She paused and threw a look at him over her shoulder.  “We have potatoes, right?”

Solas blinked twice, then started looking through the larder until he came back with several golden skinned tubers.  “These?”

“Look at you, Fen'Harel, not being useless in the kitchen!”  She grinned impishly at him and kissed his jawline when he leaned over her to put the potatoes within reach.  “Thank you, love.”

He leaned against the counter where she was working and watched for a moment before he spoke again.  She was taking the strips of chicken she'd cut and flattening them with magic, a much less messy prospect than beating them with a hammer.  “What, precisely, are chicken fingers?”

“Oh!  Breaded and deep fried strips.  They're not actual fingers.”  She laughed, realizing just how ridiculous it must sound to him.  “I'm not sure where the name came from.  Maybe because when you cut the breast a certain way it can end up looking like a hand.  Who knows?  Anyway, I want them, so I'm making them.”

“And fries?”

“Diced lengths of potato, twice fried so they're extra crispy.  It's all horrible for you, but it tastes wonderful.”

#Lamb writes #dragon age inquisition #solavellan #solas x lavellan #twist fic tuesday #twist some more

[mercysought]

@theharellan​​ . ‘ just eat a bit of the sun to fill the sky, and you will feel empty no longer. ’ for elgar'nan . the language of thorns + black sails s3 . accepting

   “just eat a bit of the sun to fill the sky, and you will feel empty no longer.“

The voice is playful and Elgar’nan looks to the voice that has yet to take a shape. That is how he had come to think of it. That all, everything around them would do the same, would do it as he did: wrapped himself into a shape, into a form that fit. Where his voice was a rumbling against fabric instead of the whispering of the wind. Elgar’nan, whose name he had not chosen yet at that point, had thought of it. Dreamed it, truly. A form so large and loud, that it would bring all eyes to him. A form that would be impossible to ignore. He had dreamed it in forms of lightning and the loud flashes of bright, hot electricity rippling through light grey clouds. Its light spreading all across, from one side to the other and it felt right. 

The voice, his voice, heard from one side of the world to the next. Perhaps it was something that crossed worlds beyond their own. It is in that thought that he meets Da’Fen; though he himself does not have that name. Not yet.

Elgar’nan looks to the large orb of light and warm; he finds himself returning to it, time and time again. The word does not come easily and would not for many years, but the way that the young Elgar’nan hovers and clings to it is one of hunger. Deep, uncontrolled hunger.

And, ultimately, envy.

Warm, and powerful. And ever present.

It is thunder the first sound that awoke the world and with a kiss of the sun against the earth that he was born. That is what the stories would say. And much like many stories that came after, and many that were told before voices were truly able to ripple through the flesh (chosen or otherwise) it would be told that the Father grew envious of the Sun and forced his hand. An attack that prompted a defeat of the old for the new. Cycles, especially such as long as these which are spoken in these stories, are hard to keep track but they return with a vengeance.

The Sun kisses his face and he feels himself sway softly. So softly that if he was to release his thoughts fully, he was sure his physical form would disintegrate fully. Even as the warmth burnt through the form, any form that would later come, he still felt it. Craved it. And the curiosity had brought him there. 

All things would take shape, all things would choose to. From the beautiful trees to the earth that formed. To himself. If that was the case, then who was he? He kept returning to its warmth, to its light and waited while covering the light from escaping outside of his own form. Why should others get to enjoy it if they could not understand? If they could not even name the question?

No, he would be the first to know. To see them switch forms and know how. 

And the spirit who was not yet named Elgar’nan smiled to the one whose name would become Da’Fen. Smiled with sharp edges as it had always been, circling around the figure of the sun and in that moment the soft edges of his form curve into something akin to teeth.

   “It is not emptiness I am attempting to stave off.” and from within the southern edges of his figure turn a darker shade of grey; darker as he grew closer to the light, so close that he might eclipse itself of it. He would stretch his limbs in hug-like gesture “Are you not curious?”

A question that he knew would only draw the other closer; to talk as Elgar’nan’s vigil continued. More importantly, however, was to hear. To hear and to have his voice rumbling beyond their to others that would too come closer and listen. For centuries it had lasted, perhaps. 

Perhaps. Such things are hard to know.

Some stories would tell of Elgar’nan who in an act of rebellion had overthrown his father after an attempt on his life. Others would tell of the order of exile from the All-father, exiled to the Abyss with the only remnants of it being the warmth that rose from few springs. Others would tell that Elgar’nan had turned into a dragon and had eaten the sun piece by piece at exactly the same time for three days in a row: Always at dust when it was fully red. He had eaten with grinning teeth and ravenous victory in his eyes. He had eaten and devoured until all light and warmth was his and his alone.

   “just eat a bit of the sun to fill the sky, and you will feel empty no longer.“

Elgar’nan looks to the figure, a body that he chose with a voice that rumbled just as loudly as his own now. There is no more mirth in that tone, not like it had been so long ago. If Elgar’nan could close his eyes, full relax to the point where he might lose his own form, it felt like it had been just yesterday. His body does not betray any such things, it was a flat comment, without any weight but above all within their pantheon, within their family, Elgar’nan was perhaps the best that could identify the sharpness in that eye. The meanness of his grin.

The shadows deepen in the face of the All Father but he does not move. His shoulders remain straight, his eyes downcast to look to this jester that his wife enjoys the company of. To speak of consumption and temptation in such a manner to him, when he was the one that spoke them. 

Elgar’nan looks to the wolf statue, perfectly carved and made for them by June, to bless any and all of their celebrations; and then to his own cup of wine. For a second he looks to the curve that the veins in his hands made, the slight different of shade as they disappear into his crimson robes. The man rises and even as a whisper, despite the flesh that now wraps his body, his voice is still rumbling, still thunder as he leaves the cup and the table with only a single glance given.

   “It is not emptiness I am attempting to stave off.”

#theharellan #elgar'nan ( muses ) #raven received ( meme replies ) #( so uh.... this got really long ) #( b ut I LIKE IT ) #long post tw

[rivainisomniari]

@lyrium-lavellan​ asked:  “ yea can I get uhh.. 13 and 14 from the pre-relationship prompts, and 12 from the We Are The Dalish prompts? and a large fry. thanks😋”

THIS TOOK A WHILE RED I’M SO SORRY! And it’s just number 12... The rest will come, I promise!

“Promise me you’ll be careful.” Aridhel squeezer her shoulders, again. “No picking fights with any of the Templars, or any of the Orlesians.”

“I promise, dad.” Fen’an smiles at her dad. “It’s just a little spying journey, I’ll be fine.”

Her father’s green eyes are still full of worry and his frown twists the lines of Ghilan’nain’s vallaslin on his face. “I just don’t like this, da’fen, you’ll be so close to Orlais… and all those Templars…”

“I know,” She really doesn’t know how to calm him, not when she’s leaving for Ferelden. It’s far from Rivain. Too far. “I will stay away from any large cities and only stay the night in rooms offered by other elves.”

“It calms my heart to hear it,” He nods, trying his best to smile. “But what if you end up in the middle of the fight?” Aridhel shakes his head. “Why did Halesta even ask this of you?”

“Papae,” Fen’an takes his hands from her shoulders and raises them to her lips, kissing the knuckles. “I volunteered, I want to be the one to go.” She feels how his hands shake and she gives them a gentle squeeze. “Someone needs to go, and that someone might as well be me.”

“But why?” Her father, her sweet father, is almost in tears now. “Vasta offered…”

“And her parents are terrified of their daughter going back to Ferelden so soon after the Blight,” Gentle, but firm. Like her mother is. “Can you really ask that of both of them?”

“How can you ask this of me?” Aridhel rarely raises his voice, so it makes Fen’an’s eyebrows go up. “You’re my only child and now you’re being sent on some suicide mission--”

The young woman hugs him, her arms closing tightly around his waist. It catches him off-guard and it takes the older elf a couple of seconds to hug his daughter back. “It’s alright, papae, I’ll come back for you.”

He lets out a shaky breath, but doesn’t say anything else.

#female lavellan #female inquisitor #Inquisitor Lavellan #fen'an dirthanaris #aridhel lavellan #rivainisomniari writes

[silvanils]

wip wednesday

What’s this, a rogue Knight appears? YES, I HAVE RETURNED! I actually made a little headway on a project this week. Enjoy the sneak peek!

Solas sighed, dipping down to slip between the curtains as he made his way to the central rooms and lawns where the guests would have gathered. They were translucent ghosts, now, darting around the room and paying Solas little attention as he walked among them.

When he passed through the door to the gardens, though, that changed. One of the guests glanced over to him, smiling as he raised a cup to his lips. He was more real than the others, less of a shadow.

He drained the rest of his cup and set it aside, bowing to the ghostly patrons he’d been talking with. “If you’ll excuse me, I have other business to attend.”

Of course, of course… the spirits babbled, allowing the elf to take his leave.

Solas darted back inside the castle and turned to wait on the stairs. His pulse pounded in his ears as he stood there, stunned and still. This hadn’t been part of his plan, nothing here was supposed to be real — 

He heard a chuckle right behind him and froze when it was followed by a hand coming to rest on his arm. “Did you miss me, da’Fen?”

Oh dear, Solas, you ARE in trouble. *waggles eyebrows*

Tagging: @kita-lavellan, @mrstethras, @noire-pandora, @jarakrisafis, @cheapertevinterglam, @followingthewolf, @sratsome-jack, @moonlightheretic, and anyone else that wants to take part~ <3

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #solas #solas x fade spirit #wip wednesday #;Passion/Solas #;Solas/Felassan

[theharellan]

An incomplete list of my Solas’ names, listed semi-chronologically:

Da’Fen. An affectionate name given by Wisdom when he was young, and likely was invoked by it throughout their friendship until its death. Only a few know him by this name, and fewer still ever took physical form.

Fen’amelan. A name given by Mythal, more or less translating as “wolf guardian,” it references his role as her protector although later was adopted by the People to represent his expanding role as their guardian. One of the most common names to refer to him by, up until he took on the name Fen’Harel. Obviously when writing with a Mythal this headcanon is flexible and won’t be forced upon them.

Fenara. A name given by the People, but often used by friends. He wore many disguises to walk among the People unnoticed, and eventually earns a name to reference the habit-- “the wolf that wanders.” He had a particular fondness for this name, especially when it was invoked by people who just figured out who he was. Often such cleverness was rewarded, either through a gift or recruitment.

Fen’Samahl. A name almost exclusively used by friends, although I’m sure that there have been people who picked it up after overhearing those close to him use it. It just means “the laughing wolf” and is more or less the ancient elvhen equivalent to “Chuckles” because his laugh has always sounded Like That.

Fen’ghil’an. It means “the wolf that guides” and was given to him by the faithful, mostly invoked by lost travellers, traders about to make a long journey, or on more dire occasions by Andruil’s sacrifices. I should note here that this is a feminine name, and that Solas was not exclusively seen as a masculine entity-- in fact, most often he was seen as neutral (most ancient texts likely refer to him with the neutral len over lan or lin), but there were those who would exclusively or occasionally use she/her pronouns when referencing him.

Fenvir / Fen’an. Two very niche names used during the period just before he broke off to ultimately become Fen’Harel, and only by those who knew his heart. Fenvir references the new path he is on, and Fen’an represents his changing heart. They also likely could have been used after his turn for those who didn’t want to call him something his enemies had named him.

Fen’Harel / Fen’Harellan / Fen’Harillen. Names given to him by his enemies, intended as an insult but adopted by the revolution and by Fen’Harel himself. It means both “wolf traitor” and “rebel wolf” and can invoke either a terrifying god-monster bent upon destroying the people he was meant to protect, or a person who has upheld the meaning of his ancient names even if it meant turning against those who gave them to him. Fen’Harel is a strange name which contributes to Solas’ ill feelings towards it, to some it is a god’s name, to others it is a hero’s name, to others still it is a monster’s name, albeit a divine monster, rarely is it is his name. Especially after the creation of the Veil. Also interesting to note that the gender of the noun associated with the name is feminine.

Solas. A name he chose for himself after he wakes, representing both his own self-admitted pride and the pride of the elves. Pride isn’t an inherently negative thing, least of all to a race of people whose pride has been purposefully stripped from them, and I don’t believe every Fade denizen who represents Pride is necessarily demonic or violent in nature. But getting into that would be opening up another discussion about the nature of spirits so we won’t be getting into that. One thing I should note is that if someone notes that “Solas” is a strange thing to name a child, if he has a positive relationship with that person he will mention that he wasn’t born with that name, although if someone responds by asking what his real name is he will greatly disapprove. I have written a little fic about Thora and Solas discussing his (and hers) names and their meanings here for an example of what I mean. In addition to those who knew Solas in the Inquisition, those who are close to Solas and understand ancient Elvhen naming conventions and his feelings about his own names are likely to call him Solas, too. At least under certain circumstances.

Chuckles. It counts as a name in his mind, and one of the few he’ll accept as gladly as he does Solas. How you interpret the meaning of Varric’s nickname varies and I will leave that up to any Varrics I write with, personally I tend to see it as literal rather than ironic as the first time he invokes it in-game is after Solas snort-laughs. I also think he had this nickname before you as the Herald meet Solas or Varric (they obviously know each other if Solas is giggling over the prospect of Varic being with the Chantry) but again I ultimately leave that up to Varrics.

Vhenan / Sal’shiral. Affectionate nicknames given to him by Ian over the course of their relationship, but begin to feel as real as any other name he’s been called, especially when they rendezvous in the Fade and the full meaning of what Ian feels when he says it can be felt. Shout-out to Ala (seahaloed) for giving me feelings about this.

Many of his old names may provoke negative feelings in Solas, as they’re names associated with his false divinity or are easy to project onto on a scale that can be disorienting. When people called upon Fen’ghil’an or Fen’amelan for protection, they called upon him, but also they didn’t. It’s one reason Solas is a more comfortable name for him, it’s the one he owns completely.

And one final name:

Lavellan. You may have noticed Solas has never had a last name! In my modern Thedas verse he does invent one, but he doesn’t put as much weight in them as he does first names (I don’t think Elvhenan quite had surnames, as nuanced meaning could be put in one name or dispersed over several). In the Dragon Age not having a last name is pretty acceptable for lower classes, and therefore suitable for an apostate elf dressed in rags. However, when Solas does marry Ian he takes his last name as a symbol of their joining. In modern Thedas it’s the first time he ever gives his students the option to call him by his last name, as before he typically instructed them to call him by his first name and the more polite students would just have to suffer or call him “Professor Solas.”

This is all 100% fanon/headcanon and diverges from canon, please don’t reblog this unless we’re rp partners!

#( headcanons ) #v; his wolves are wandering ( youth ) #v; we were everyone ( elvhenan ) #v; gods will fall but we will rise ( elvhen rebellion ) #he calls himself Pride ( about ) #i will die with you and you will be reborn again with me ( rebellion ) #i have found a home in him ( ian x solas ) #[ i'm probably done talking about names now. at least on this blog #most of the agents i write also have renamed themselves so i could get into that....... ] #[ but if i do it'll be on my multi or... not. today. ] #she stood above the rest ( mythal ) #knowledge speaks‚ wisdom listens ( wisdom ) #v; what are we going to do with all this future? ( modern )

[dreadwxlf]

rush -panda

rush ~ tackle them to the ground

 ~    He is surprised at the force Pandora has as she tackles him in a hug - so much so that she knocks him to the ground! Still, there is a broad smile on his face as he holds her tightly to his chest. He had been gone for three weeks on a mission: the longest he had ever left his daughter alone. ~

  ~   “ I have missed you as well, da’fen, ” he says with a small laugh. A sigh leaves his lips as he softly noses her hair; time alone with his daughter was just what he needed after the less-than-pleasant work he has just finished. Solas plants a kiss on the top of her head before sitting up and situating the girl in his lap. “ I apologize for being gone for so long. Tell me, what did you do while I was away? I trust you were on your best behavior. ” ~

#~{MY HEART}~ #da'fen ~ pandora #fragments from the fade ~ meme #inside the fade ~ rp #magicalled #in another world ~ au #verse ~ pandora's box #letters ~ ask

[vigilskeep]

too sleepy to answer more asks now sorry. i should learn to draw mabari its like so sad silla isn’t on that family tree. i think the warden’s and hawke’s mabari should be Visually Distinct do you guys have colour opinions. what colours do dogs even come in im a cat person

#theres like. brown ones. black ones even #idk #oh and a third design for tristans dog. bc garahel and wraith and da’fen are the same dog #but cousland’s dog is a different other dog. i should come up with a name

[heartslogos]

newfragile yellows [726]

“Ellana.”

She freezes, Lyna almost running into her back. She hears Darrian’s sharp, not quiet enough, inhale of breath and she feels Alim’s magic flicker sharply.

There is a shadow across the courtyard, too black for darkness. It is a wolf, too large to be real, and then it is a man. It is both and neither at once.

Ellana lowers her eyes, hands quickly moving to pull the long folds of her gown into a curtsey, head lowering as she addresses him.

“Hahren,” she breathes out, knowing he will hear no matter how quiet she is.

“Where are you going, Ellana?” the Wolf asks. “You seem in a hurry, is there some meeting that I have forgotten?”

“No, hahren,” the word burns her eyes and her mouth, making her will and spirit waver, “There is not one, unless I, myself, have been remiss in keeping your generous schedule.”

“At this time you ought to be relaxing in your solar,” he says, “You have been working hard and long for the past few moons. You bring great honor to your ancient lineage with your fortitude and determination, your ancestors would be proud.”

“Thank you, hahren. It is through your tutelage and your generosity that whatever seed of capability they carried through our blood and planted within me has come to fruition. I was in my solar, hahren, but I received word that some shemlen have been brought to the dungeons.”

She can feel his disapproval. It is a tangible thickening of the air that squeezes her throat. Ellana’s hand aches, throbs, pulses. She bites her cheek, willing her eyes not to water. And if they do not to let it fall.

Solas had never approved of her interest in the kingdoms and peoples beyond the Dales, not unless she was studying their many and, in his mind, innumerable faults.

“Yes,” he says, “I would have thought that they all would have been caught by now. The presence of the shemlen within the walls of the Dales is a persistent infestation that brings no end of surprises. Are you not yet tired of investigating?”

The back of Ellana’s neck aches from holding the perfect arch of her curtsey. He has not given her leave to look up.

Not for the first time she has to remind herself at least it is only this. Behind her Lyna is in a full curtsey, knees still bent. Alim and Darrian both are bowed at the waist, torsos almost parallel to the ground.

Ellana feels sweat curl at the back of her neck as the hot summer sun beats down on her, burning through her thick, heavy gown.

There’s no question that Solas knows the identify to those that are currently in their dungeons.

“But these are Qunari, hahren,” Ellana says, forcing her voice into something curious, something light, something foolish, “I have not yet seen Qunari up close.”

“You wish to gawk upon them as though they are exhibits, da’fen?” He asks, dubious and half mocking. “Let them pass with dignity. It is beneath you to be so vapid. Our goal is to remove a problem, not exacerbate it through torment.”

Ellana licks her lips, hand cramping from the effort of holding her heavy skirt. She can feel her palm start to seize, fingers clenching uncontrollably to bunch the fabric.

“I had hoped to study them,” Ellana says.

The Wolf is quiet for a very long time. So long that Ellana’s legs begin to tremble and her breath becomes short. The sun is too hot, her clothes too heavy, and her body too weakened.

“Come,” he says and it takes everything Ellana can scrap together not to fall forward and to instead force some semblance of grace, nobility, and poise into her spine as she raises herself up, the world spinning as she raises her head and forces her hand to open and release her skirts. She slowly walks towards the shadows, feeling the coldness of his magic enveloping her.

It is both relief from the heat and a terrible feeling of entrapment.

Solas touches the back of his fingers to her head, frowning. Ellana’s breathing seems too loud.

“Study them,” he repeats, softly, “And what do you wish to study?”

“Legend says that they are made from the blood of dragons,” Ellana answers, “And some unknown race that has not been seen nor heard from in Thedas for ages. The blood of dragons is also known to create some sort of enhancing effect on the body, physical rather than magical as lyrium does. I wanted to see if I could further manipulate this blood, or perhaps come to understand it, refine it in some way.”

His grey eyes search hers and she hopes he does not see her deception. She hopes that she is so weakened, so frail, brought so horribly low that he no longer thinks her capable of resistance and subterfuge.

She does not want him to see her hope and know it for what it is.

“I permit it,” he says at least, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear with his cold, cold hand. “You may have the Qunari. But what of the other shemlen that have arrived with them?”

“I will keep them as well,” Ellana says, “As test subjects and control groups.”

“There are elves among them.”

“Then I shall endeavor to restore them to our ways, so they may see the truth that has been obscured by the rest of the world for so long.”

“Very well,” his hand drops to his side as he examines her. She can’t tell if the concern he shows her is genuine or not. Was anything he ever did for her genuine? It seems so long ago. Ellana doesn’t know. It’s possible that she will never know, and that she has never known. “You may examine your new subjects, but I will check upon you in two hours. If you are not resting in your quarters I will have to find you, Ellana.”

He pauses even as Ellana’s heart trembles.

“Do not make me look for you.”

#heartsfic #gather your party and venture forth

[ofxelvhen]

Oh little wolf Did you think your teeth so long And claws so sharp That you could hold on to all you hoped for?

Oh da’fen Your heart is too big and you wear it on your sleeve Did you expect no one would break it With it exposed for all the world to see?

Little wolf, Oh how you have grown! Jaded and tired and have you seen too much? Are you tired, my wolf?

Oh little wolf, oh trickster This world was kind to you And still you wish to break her open To bring what once was back to you.

Oh trickster You never danced on their graves Even those you hated you mourned Even as you fastened the last locks

oh da’harellan Do you miss what you once had? Do you misremember the past? Do you yearn to return to older days?

Da’fen, da’harellan, My little wolf, so alone, so tired Do you truly expect to win this war? Do you think you shall survive?

    - Da’Fen // Solas

#mun's poetry; #c: The trickster; Solas {Fen'Harel} #[ okay to rb I guess ] #[ and yes that is meant to be da'fen not da'len ] #[ I just have a lot of Solas feels leave me alone ]

[yes-these-obsessions-are-healthy]

Relationship Tag - Dorian x Da’Fen

Disagreements:

Who is more likely to raise their voice? Da’Fen, but he raises his voice whether he’s happy or angry. Dorian prefers to get quiet. Who threatens to leave but never actually does? Neither, because they feel it is an “unworthy” threat to make  Who actually keeps their word and leaves? N/A  Do either of them get physical? If really pressed, Dorian may grab at his own hair or grab Da’Fen by the arm, but other than that, no.  How often do they argue/disagree? Rarely  Who is the first to apologise? Dorian, but that’s because he says it immediately after stepping out of line. He’s conscientious of himself and his more venomous side and tries not to let it touch Da’Fen if at all possible.

Sex:

Who is on top? I headcanon Dorian as a vers, but with Da’Fen he’s a top 90% of the time  Who is on the bottom? Da’Fen is an enthusiastic bottom.  Who has the strangest desires? Da’Fen is really fixated on Dorian’s nipples for some reason. He likes to suckle them long enough for it to seem a bit obsessive, like “Okay, darling? As far as I’m aware, I haven’t begun lactating. Could you j-u-u-u-s-t --” *pries Da’Fen’s head from chest with a POP* “--Ah! There we are.”  Any kinks? Dorian mentioned in-game that he looks good in rope, so there’s that...Both are really into praise kink, whether it’s themselves or each other. Da’Fen loves/hates tease & denial. Dorian likes making Da’Fen beg and overstimulating him. Dorian also likes worshipping Da’Fen’s body because he is a lithe little thing reminiscent of the nude busts found in Tevinter (Roman youth sculpture reference!)  Who’s dominant in bed? Dorian  Is head ever in the equation? Almost always  If so, who is better at performing it? Dorian, only because of age and practice. Da’Fen has so much fun he often ends up giggling and has to stop.  Ever had sex in public? No. Dorian doesn’t want to ruin Da’Fen’s reputation any more than he has.  Who moans the most? Da’Fen.  Who leaves the most marks? Dorian  Who screams the loudest? Da’Fen  Who is the more experienced of the two? Dorian by far  Do they ‘fuck’ or ‘make love’? Da’Fen views all sex with Dorian as making love but for Dorian himself he is coming to terms with the fact that this relationship with Da’Fen is different from what ever affairs he managed to snag in bath houses and taverns as a young man  Rough or soft? Da’Fen allows Dorian to pound him into the mattress once in awhile because “primal” is usually what Dorian wants, but Dorian understands that Da’Fen is a bit more delicate and needs something a bit more … touchy-feely. He’s totally fine with supplying that, and he likes being able to love a lover in all the ways that word entails.  How long do they usually last? Foreplay varies between just a few kisses and lube to really drawing it out – 5 – 20 minutes.    Is protection used? No. Shame shame shame.  Does it ever get boring? Da’Fen treats every round of sex like a new adventure so even the most tried and true maneuvers and techniques are still made fresh with Da’Fen’s bright eyes and eagerness.  Where is the strangest place they’d have sex? A small nook in the Archives, if it was at all possible.

Affection:

Who likes to cuddle? Da’Fen so so so so much.  Who is the little spoon? Da’Fen. Yes, I hug you and now you must cuddle ME in return.  Who gets naughty in the most inappropriate of places? Dorian, honestly.  Who struggles to keep their hands to themself?  Da’Fen. He must. Hug. Everyone.  How long can they cuddle until one becomes uncomfortable? Da’Fen can cuddle indefinitely. Dorian can go for an hour or so and then needs to move around.  Who gives the most kisses? Da’Fen gives the most friendly kisses. Dorian gives the most loving, deeply emotional kisses.  What is their favourite non-sexual activity? For Da’Fen it’s hunting and exploring the forest. For Dorian it’s research and drinking.  Where is their favourite place to cuddle? For Dorian it’s in bed, naturally. For Da’Fen it’s literally any place where there’s a warm body.  Who is more likely to playfully grope the other?  Dorian, but he does it discreetly

Sleeping:

Who snores? Dorian, but only if he’s drunk a lot that night.  Do they share a bed or sleep separately? Da’Fen can’t conceive of sleeping alone. He has always slept with someone, whether his mother or another clan member, very close by. If they sleep together, do they cozy up together or lay far apart? Da’Fen is glued to Dorian like a koala

Who talks in their sleep? Da’Fen. It never used to happen but ever since he and Solas gained a connection in the Fade, snippets of their conversations can be heard spoken by Da’Fen in the waking world.  What do they wear to bed? Dorian goes nude in the summer time or wears a tunic in winter. Da’Fen wears a makeshift fundoshi sort of deal. Dorian was floored to learn it was in fact his sleepwear and not some gimmick to try to seduce him.  Do they wrap their limbs around each other or just lay side by side? The day Dorian doesn’t wrap his arms around Da’Fen to hold him close while they sleep is the day Da’Fen figures they’ve stopped loving each other.  Who wakes up with bed hair? Dorian. It’s always styled before breakfast, though.  Who wakes up first? Depends. Da’Fen is used to waking up at 5 AM (7 AM at the latest) to help his clan with chores and that didn’t stop when he became part of the Inquisition. But since becoming Inquisitor he’s had some run-ins with some dangerous and harmful entities that have put him to sleep on numerous occasions. Essentially, unless it knocks him out cold and puts him out of commission, he is getting up before Dorian.  Who prepares breakfast in bed for the other? Da’Fen tries his best.  What is their favourite sleeping position? On their own: Da’Fen sleeps on his side hugging a pillow. Dorian sleeps on his stomach with his arms bent upwards.  Who hogs the sheets? Da’Fen  Who has nightmares? Dorian sometimes has recurring dreams of that night he left his family estate. He also has dreams of Da’Fen becoming seriously injured and being helpless to stop it.  Who has ridiculous dreams? Da’Fen dreams up a lot of weird shit, mostly harmless, but very bizarre in trying to explain it.  Who sprawls out and takes up most of the bed?  Dorian, sometimes.  Who makes the bed? Neither, but if it has to be done, then both will make it because they figure that holding each other accountable is better than holding one person to do the job.  What time is bed time? 11 PM, but for Dorian it could be 2 AM  Any routines/rituals before bed? Teeth brushing, Da’Fen writing down any lingering thoughts he has that ‘can be answered tomorrow, amatus—please, come to bed’ just so he won’t forget them.  Who’s the grumpiest when they wake up? Dorian, especially if it’s before 10 AM (which it always is)

Home:

Who does the washing? Da’Fen for his own clothes (out of habit). Dorian has a maid do his clothes cuz Da’Fen still doesn’t quite understand “dry clean only”  Who takes out the trash? Da’Fen  Who does the ironing? Da’Fen: ??? You just let it dry and put it on? Dorian: Maid  Who does the cooking? Da’Fen  Who is more likely to burn the house down just trying? Da’Fen  Who is messier?  Da’Fen  Who leaves the toilet roll empty? Da’Fen  Who leaves their dirty clothes on the floor? Da’Fen  Who forgets to flush the toilet? Da’Fen  Who is the prankster around the house? Da’Fen  Who does the groceries? Both of them together. They know what they themselves want to eat and they always only remember their half of the shopping list.  Who takes the longest to shower? Dorian. Double time if Da’Fen decides to hop in.  Who spends the most time in the bathroom? Dorian. Gotta make that hair look luscious.

Miscellaneous:

What do they do when they’re away from each other? Dorian drinks, researches, attends get-togethers with his fellow snobs, listens to Classical, Disco, and Salsa records. Da’Fen is somewhere in the brush climbing trees or anything climbable or visiting family out in the boonies.  Who spends the most money when out shopping? Dorian. He has very expensive tastes  Who’s more likely to flash their assets? Dorian (purposely), Da’Fen (innocently)  Who finds it amusing when the other trips over? Dorian  Any mental issues? Dorian is a borderline alcoholic. Da’Fen has major ADD  Who’s terrified of bugs? Neither are terrified, but Dorian is a bit more unnerved by large ones. Da’Fen just thinks they’re interesting.  Who kills the spiders around the house? Dorian kills them, Da’Fen sets them free outside  Their favourite place? One of the numerous cafes in Val Royeaux  Do they have any fears for their future? Dorian wants the relationship to last forever and fears it’s just a temporary thing. Da’Fen worries about Dorian worrying.  Who’s more likely to surprise the other with a fancy dinner? Dorian  Who uses up all of the hot water? Dorian  Who’s the tallest? Dorian  Who’s more likely to just randomly hop into the shower with the other? Da’Fen  Who wanders around in their underwear? Dorian rarely wears it except when he knows company is around. Da’Fen spends the first hour of the day making multiple trips everywhere trying to get ready, putting pants on last cuz he always forgets those.  Who sings the loudest when singing along to the radio? Da’Fen  What do they tease each other about? Da’Fen teases Dorian about worrying about things like his hair and clothes not looking right. Dorian teases Da’Fen about being a baby because he’s much shorter, younger, and childish than him  Who is more likely to cringe at the other’s fashion sense at times? Dorian does not understand Da’Fen’s insistence on “comfort over couture.” Excuse me, what?  Do they have mutual friends? Both consider Sera to be mutual friends.  Who crushed first? Dorian  Any alcohol or substance related problems? Dorian has a problem with alcohol. He’s a functioning borderline alcoholic, the kind that is acceptable and expected in high society, but when he’s depressed he really lets himself go.  Who is more likely to stumble home, drunk, at 3am? Dorian  Who swears the most? Dorian. Da’Fen can swear, it’s just he doesn’t feel the need to.

#Da'Fen #da oc x companion #dorian #my ocs #DA:I #dragon age: inquisition #pavellan

[royal-babey]

Lily

I wrote angst and it hurts like hell and oh god I cried whilst writing it.

Featuring my OC’s Nico and Dima Mahariel, and their father Revas Mahariel.

TW’s for blood, death, slavery, and just a shitton of angst.

-

In the forests of Antiva, walked three Dalish Elves.

Keeper of Clan Mahariel, Revas Mahariel, accompanied his young twin sons into the wild woodlands to show them the foundations of survival. This was something the family did often, at least twice a week if possible, and it was valuable time together for them. Revas’s Keeper duties often kept him busy, and sometimes unable to spend time with his sons at all.

He had a son walking on either side of him, both clutching his significantly larger hands tightly. Dmitri Mahariel chatted away happily to his Father, rambling on about anything that caught his interest or something exciting that had happened to him earlier that week. His younger brother, Nikolai Mahariel, was quite happy to walk in silence, allowing his brother to do the talking for the both of them.

Revas couldn’t be happier. Of course if his ex-wife could be here, that would make things even better. Revas regularly mourned the fact that the twins would not grow up without a motherly influence in their lives, but they seemed to be doing just fine.

‘’-and then and then!!! Nini made a scary face and said ‘You pee the bed Daerian.’ Daerian went running crying back to his Mamae and I got my stick sword back!!!’’

Revas was snapped out of his thoughts as Dima’s excitable voice raised in pitch as he told his Father his story, and there was a very indignant ‘Dima!’ from Nico as Revas let out a chuckle in amusement. He then looked down to his left to see a very sheepish Nico kicking a small rock across the grassy forest floor.

‘’Is that true, da’fen?’’

Nico just shrugged as a response, then muttered ‘’He was being mean…’’

Revas couldn’t argue with that.

Every now and then, the elder Elf would stop beside a bush, either with oddly coloured berries or flowers, and attempt to tell the twins the properties of them. It was important they knew these things in case of emergencies. They were useful after all.

The twins genuinely did try their best to pay attention, but it was a struggle. And by the time they were an hour and a bit into their fathers lessons, they had all but given up on trying to listen.

Revas could see this, and figured he should give the twins something to enjoy instead. He sat them down on the abnormally gigantic roots of an ancient oak tree, that spiralled and gnarled in on itself both above and below the ground, and shielded them from the hot sun with its tall branches and large leaves. After he had gotten their attention, he held up a clenched fist, and smiled.

‘’Watch this, boys.’’

The boys watched in wonder as their Father’s fist glowed green, and gasped quietly when he opened it to reveal two stark white flowers where there had been nothing before. The twins recognised them to be lilies, and Dima bounced on the spot excitedly where as Nico was still staring, though he did have a small smile on his lips.

Revas reached forward, braiding the lilies into the boys long black hair one by one. They reached up to gently feel them at the same time, before lunging forward to hug their Father.

‘’That was so cool, Baban!!!’’

‘’Thank you, Baban…’’

Revas just grinned and hugged his boys back, laughing quietly to himself at their reactions. He loved making them smile.

And with a lily, he hoped to pass on their mother’s love. For that was her name, after all…

They were a happy family despite everything. A close knit and loving family.

Though like Revas had described to the twins once before, when a beloved Clan Halla passed away, the Creators often liked to pick the most beautiful things from this earth that they belovedly created.

Revas could not help the twitching of his pointed ears as he picked up on an abnormal sound coming from the east. They were outside of Clan hunting territory, so no one should be here…

That’s when he heard it. The sound of men laughing uproariously. They were no voices the Keeper recognised, and he froze to the spot, arms tensing around his children.

Humans. Human hunters had come to these woods.

Revas knew how much danger they were in instantly, and leapt to his feet. He easily picked up the twins, one in each arm, and took off running deeper into the forest. He knew these woods well, expertly avoiding upturned routes or particularly sharp rocks, taking almost completely hidden turns, getting past the more dangerous wildlife without getting so much as a second glance.

Nico and Dima were terrified, but knew to be quiet when their Father seemed to sense danger. They had not heard the humans, therefore having no idea what was wrong.

The Shemlen had heard Revas taking off though, footfalls much too heavy in his panic to get his children to safety to attempt stealth. They assumed he was a deer, having been spooked by their loudness. Revas could hear the beating of the horses hooves getting closer, and realised even if he were to make it back to the Clan in time, he would surely doom them.

So he did the only thing he could think of.

Sliding to a stop in front of a particularly large bush, he kneeled down, and placed his children behind it. He signaled for them to be quiet, and they agreed without question, nodding their heads to show they understood.

Revas knew that what he was about to do...May not turn out how he hoped.

So he hugged them both tightly, and whilst pulling away, slipped his necklace off over his head. It was made of shedded Halla antler, with intricate Elven symbols and words carved into it. He handed it to Dima, his lips trembling despite his trying to keep everything under control. He gripped Dima’s shoulders tightly, tight enough to make him wince involuntarily, and spoke in a panicked but hushed tone to his son, who had, as well as his brother, barely seen their tenth summer.

‘’I need you to promise me, Dima...Promise that no matter what, you will protect your brother. You will protect the clan. You will grow strong, and always protect those you love. Do you understand? Be strong.’’

Dima didn’t hesitate in answering, whispering a very determined ‘’Of course I promise Baban.’’ But also; ‘’What’s wrong though? You’re coming back, right?’’

Revas let out a shuddered breath, and gave his sons the best smile he could muster.

‘’Ar lath ma, ma len. I love you both so much...Be strong.’’

Before they could even question, Revas was taking off running into the clearing not far from them. Where the twins could see what was going on...Revas forced himself to stand his ground despite his fear as the humans approached, pulling his staff from his back and gripping it tightly as they pulled their horses to a stop and dismounted.

One human, with pale skin and a bald head, paired with a horribly patchy beard, was the first to approach Revas. Behind him were two more humans, dressed head to toe in armour. Revas couldn’t see their faces, though he could feel their stares.

He forced himself to greet the men in perfect trade with a smile, as wary as it may look, and a short bow.

‘’Greetings, outsiders.’’

He didn’t even get a greeting back, instead, the man in front of him just snarled, looking him up and down.

‘’Lookie here, boys. A knife ear, right here. Looks like we may not need to look for their damned camp so hard after all.’’

Revas tensed, knowing instantly who these men must be. Slavers, probably for the black market in the main city of Antiva. He reached back with his free hand to scratch nervously at his ear lobe, needing something to do as he answer, even if he wasn’t exactly asked a question.

‘’I-I beg your pardon? You can’t-’’

Revas was cut off by a sharp sword pointing directly at his neck, causing him to go stock still, too afraid to even breathe.

The man growled, pressing the blade against Revas’s neck. Enough to draw blood, for the moment, and make the Elf hiss slightly in pain.

‘’Shut your mouth, knife ear. Now listen closely. We know it isn’t just you here. We saw a stuffed toy on the ground. And you were quite happy to run just a moment ago...Who are you protecting? Your knife eared kid? Kids? Oh, the Crows would pay a pretty sum for some young Elves to train up.’’

Revas felt sick to his stomach. He wasn’t about to negotiate with some slavers, just so they could go hunt some other people.

So that left him one choice.

Carefully, he took a step back, and twirled his staff in hand.

‘’I’m not telling you anything, Shemlen!’’

He inhaled, ready to shout a spell, one powerful enough to knock them down and give him

time to run with the boys-

When instead it turned into a breathless gasp of pain, and he looked down to see a sword running right through his gut.

From behind the bush, there was a whimper, the leaves rustling as Nico attempts to get up to run to his Father. He’s stopped by Dima however, who yanks him down by the back of his shirt, and straddles him to keep him from trying again. Nico tries to yell for Revas, but Dima covers his younger brothers mouth and despite the tears forming in his own eyes as Nico writhes and struggles, whispers harshly for him to quit it.

Nico doesn’t see what Dima sees. Doesn’t see as the men kick Revas down onto his back. Doesn’t witness them sneering and taunting Revas as he bleeds out, amethyst eyes formerly shining with life beginning to go dull as he stares up at the sky. His lips barely moving as he words a silent prayer to Falon’din to guide his soul to the Beyond, the Creator who’s Vallaslin he has proudly worn since seventeen years of age.

He doesn’t see as Revas’s throat is slit easily by a spear tossed to the man who had also stabbed him, then thrust through the Keepers exposed chest.

Eventually, the humans get sick of mutilating the now dead Elf’s form. The murderer declaring Revas must have left the twins at the great oak tree and had instead tried to lure them away and distract them.

They mount their horses, and ride off. As soon as their horses beating hooves can no longer be heard, Dima and Nico get up, running over to their father’s unmoving form. He couldn’t be dead. Surely he was just badly injured, would still be breathing.

But there’s blood. Too much blood for any mortal man to surely survive. His dark skin is now an ashen colour, and his eyes are glazed over and lifeless. His expression is slack, and his chest…

It certainly isn’t moving.

Dima stands staring, completely frozen. He can’t tear his eyes off of their Fathers, their Babans, corpse. Nico however, collapses to his knees.

And he screams. A scream so heart wrenching it scares off any animals in the immediate vicinity. A scream filled with such unimaginable grief and fear and anger that it doesn’t sound human at all.

Dima can only drop down beside him, tears rolling silently down his cheeks as he reaches for Revas’s hand. Earlier it was warm, warm as Dima clung to it, warm as he pulled his Father behind him and swung and laughed and...Warm as Dima thought about how much he trusted that warmth to always be there...But now it was cold, and Dima could feel the remnants of Revas’s body heat slowly fading away.

‘’Papa…’’

He could barely mutter it. Beside him, Nico had begun to sob, clothing beginning to turn red with their Father’s blood soaking into it. He rested his head on Revas’s chest, hair mostly obscuring his face from his elder twins view.

And from his hair fell the lily Revas had left in it just twenty minutes ago. It landed in the puddle of blood just beside Revas’s body, and Dima could have sworn he heard his Father whispering the word- No. The name, Lily, in the small breeze that blew past them all.

Dima could only pull Nico to him, trying to find some comfort in his brothers still warm body despite the chilling aura that had settled in the area.

They only had each other now, meaning Dima was determined more than ever before now to keep his promise to their Father.

He would protect Nico with his life.

#dragon age #dragon age origins #pre-blight #angst #tw blood #tw death #tw slavery #I’m not crying you’re cring #writing #my writing #ocs #my ocs #Revas Mahariel #Nico Mahariel #Dima Mahariel #Antiva #Clan Mahariel

[rivainisomniari]

9. A Solavellan moment in the Emmerald Graves

WHOA THIS TOOK A WHILE XD

Sorry for the long wait... I have no excuses lmao. 

Anyway, this is a prompt from the @the-solavellan-archive

The Emerald Graves was beautiful.

The first time Solas had visited it in person for the first time, it was full of lawless men claiming to be the true rulers of the Dales, casting aside their loyalty to the Orlesian imperial family. But that was a long time ago and now the biggest threat in the area were the giants, who were definitely easier to avoid than greedy soldiers. 

After the civil war, the nobles had slowly made their way back to their luxurious mansions and villas, not realizing that their quiet elven servants were spies. Those spies worked to cause ‘ mysterious incidents’ and make sure to have an ‘elven legend’ about angry spirits and demons ready for when the nobles commented about it. That strategy was far more effective than open conflict; the human’s fear of magic was easy to exploit. 

Also, Solas found their panic quite amusing. 

“Greetings, Hahren.” One of his agents bowed in greeting as Solas steps out of the Eluvian. “Our scouts have already returned from the chateau and, as you have told us, no humans tried to claim it.”

Solas nodded. “I did not think they would, the place used to be haunted by an Arcane Horror.” 

“Our mages felt remnants of its energy, but no more demons inhabited the place.” The elf followed him through the corridors of the base, respectfully staying a step behind. “Some of the scouts stayed behind to get the place back into shape, as you instructed, Hahren.”

“Thank you,” Solas mounted one of the harts waiting by his base’s entrance. “I will be heading there right now. Has the spare Eluvian from Emprise du Lion arrived yet?” 

“Not yet, Hahren, but we’ll send it over the Chateau D’Onterre as soon as it does.”

“Excellent.” Solas thanked the agent again and accepted the map the man offered to him. “Take the rest of the day off, you have done well today.” The agent nodded and Solas rode off into the woods.

He avoided the main roads, making his way through paths his people had opened in the forest. Few humans dared to leave their roads now, there were no more hunting expeditions and scavengers looking for ancient elven objects were not leaving the Emerald Graves alive, always meeting ‘mysterious deaths’ among the ruins.

Solas reached the formerly haunted chateau and was greeted by a scout, a Dalish archer named Lithan. The man was short, even for an elf, and his face was adorned with Falon’Din’s vallaslin. He was one of the Dalish elves who had decided to keep their vallaslin. Lithan was a senior scout with years of experience and had grown closer to Solas over time, becoming a trusted advisor and friend.

“Hahren.” Lithan greeted him with a smile. “It’s good to see you.” He looked at the woods for a minute before turning to him. “Keeper Fen’an isn’t with you today?”

Solas dismounted the hart, petting his neck. “She will be arriving later.” The ancient elf gave one of his characteristic small smiles. “She is still not aware of any of this.”

“A surprise to your lady?” Lithan’s strong accent took a mischievous tone. “You know... When a Dalish wants to ask someone to become their bond partner, they build an aravel,” He pointed at the chateau. “Don’t you think this is a bit too much?”

Solas couldn’t help but chuckle. “Perhaps, my friend.” Inside the building, more elves were moving around. They carried paintings, debris, and pieces of idols from the Orlesian Chantry and nobility. “Things seem to be running smoothly.”

“They are, we started to get this place fixed as soon as we secured it.” Lithan took him to the chateau’s master bedroom. “And I took the initiative of getting this room ready as soon as possible.” 

The inside had been stripped from anything that could mark it as Orlesian, the room now looked like something out of the tales the Dalish told their children about their ancient homeland. The walls were covered in tapestries displaying traditional Dalish and Elvhen designs, some telling tales from the Emerald Knights while others told more recent stories. 

“Is this...” Solas carefully touched a familiar-looking figure, an elven woman with long white hair and a missing arm.

“Keeper Fen’an? Yes.” Lithan smiled at the tapestry. “This one shows the Recruitment of Halamshiral.” The elf chuckled at Solas’ raised eyebrow. “Many of the elves Fen’an guided out of the city’s slum gave that day this name.” 

“It seems Fen’an cannot escape becoming a prophetic figure, even if the mission changes.”

“She is a remarkable woman, Hahren, is it so surprising that so many look up to her for guidance?” Lithan asked.

“As someone who always seeks her council, I can say that no, it is not surprising at all.” Solas smiled fondly at the tapestry. He turned to look at the gigantic bed covered in many pieces of wolf fur. “And this was also your idea, I presume?”

The other elf shrugged but had a big grin on his face. “It’s poetic, Hahren.”

“If you say so, Lethallin.” Solas chuckled and shook his head. “I do believe Fen’an will find this very amusing, it looks like the type of poetic gesture she would make herself.” 

“What can I say?” The Dalish elf grinned. “I’ve known Aridhel’s little Da’fen since her first Arlathven! Of course I know her sense of humor, she learned it with the best.”

“Ah!” The mage lifted an eyebrow. “Now I know who to blame for her terrible jokes.”

“You wound me, Hahren!”

“I try, my friend.”

[--------][--------][--------][--------][--------][--------][--------][--------][--------]

Solas was painting when he felt her arrival. 

The familiar feel of his own magic, yet mixed together with her own, wilder energy. Fen’an’s aura could easily scare someone not used to such power, and Fen’an had yet to fully learn how to hold it back. Solas had a feeling that she liked the effect her raw, untamed power had on others. It was terrifying to her enemies, yet surprisingly tender to those she wished to protect. 

He placed his brush down, stepping away from the unfinished frescoes. Solas made his way to where her presence was stronger and found her exiting the Eluvian Room (as his agents liked to call it). Fen’an smiled when she saw him and he smiled back, offering her his arm.

“I hope you know how much I love to see you not wearing armor.” She took his arm and felt the soft fabric of his clothes with the tip of her fingers. “I like you all soft and huggable.” 

He chuckled and continued to guide her through the chateau. “Then you are in luck, vhenan,” They reached the master bedroom and Solas opened the door for her. “All of our operations are going smoothly and I was able to find some free time for us.” He looked at her expectantly. “If you wish for my company, of course.”

“Oh?” Fen’an grinned, making her way towards the bed. “Will I have you all to myself, Fen’Harel?” She turned to look at him, a wicked smile on her lips, and sat down on the bed. “Has the Dread Wolf taken me away from under my Keeper’s protection to ravish me on his bed?”

“Would you like that, vhenan?” He chuckled softly and walked over to her. “For the Dread Wolf to take you?” Solas smiled when Fen’an pulled his head down to kiss him. “I am yours to command, my heart.”

She sighed against his lips. “Just stay with me,” Fen’an whispered, smiling up at him. “I missed you.”

“I have missed you too, vhenan.” Solas helped her stand. “I have brought in some of your clothes, so you can change into something more comfortable.”

Fen’an removed her armor and put on not one of her nightgowns, but one of Solas’ shirts. She grinned when he chuckled, shaking his head. “What? It’s comfy!” 

“Should I give it to you, my heart?” He bent his head down to touch their foreheads together. “You seem to use them more than me these days.”

“But them being mine would take way all the fun that comes with stealing them!” Fen’an rolled her eyes dramatically. “Why would you say something like that? Don’t you love me anymore?”

Solas raised an eyebrow at her, but there was the faint hint of a smile on his lips. “I will never stop loving you, vhenan.” As the words left his mouth, Solas felt a terrible sense of dread overtake him. He would love her to the end of his days if it ever came, but would she love him for that long? Or would she loathe him after the first century? He would let her go if she did, of course. But the thought of it...

“Oh no,” Fen’an’s voice brought him back to reality. “I know that look.” She took a step back and held his face in her hands. “The last time you looked at me like that, you broke my heart after telling me the Vallaslin used to be slave markings. What’s going on?” That last question was whispered softly, and he couldn’t help but close his eyes, enjoying her touch.

“I am--” He took a shaky breath. “Ar lath ma.” That was all he managed to say. All of his usual pride, his characteristic confidence, all of that came apart when with her. The Dread Wolf, rendered speechless. Everything he had been, everything he was... Turned into dust. 

‘Fen’Harel commands the rebellion,’ His agents liked to say. ‘but Keeper Fen’an commands Fen’Harel.’ 

“Ar lath ma, Fen’Harel.”  Fen’an kissed him, just a brush of her lips. “Tell me what haunts you.” She pulled him closer to her in a gentle hug, his face hidden against her neck. “We’re in this together, remember?”

Solas sighed and closed his eyes, his arms locked tightly around the woman in front of him. “I do remember, vhenan.” He kissed the warm skin of her neck and took a moment to enjoy how she ran her hand across his back in a comforting manner. “Marry me.”

Fen’an went still for a couple of seconds as she took in what he had asked. After a while, she pushed his face away from her neck to look into his eyes. “What?”

“I want you to be one with me.”  He tried to get a hold of himself again, his posture straight. “In body and soul,” Solas took her hand in his. “by magic and by law.”

“Solas--”

“I will understand if you do not wish to bind yourself to me--”

“Solas--”

“I would never resent you if-”

Fen’an kissed him, interrupting his rambling. “Just--” She murmured between kisses. “shut up for once.” She was smiling against his lips and his heart was filled with joy at what she said next. “I’ll marry you--” She sighed dreamily when Solas interrupted her with a kiss of his own. “Fuck, I’ll marry you.”

He smiled, relief flooding his heart with warmth. Solas kissed her again, and again, and again.

#solavellan #solas x lavellan #solas x inquisitor #rivainisomniari writes #fen'an dirthanaris #otp: ma ghilana vhenan