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in-arlathan · 4 years

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Elenara Lavellan

Elven rogue and archer, specialized as Artificer

Hunter of Clan Lavellan, Inquisitor and Comtesse of Kirkwall

Finally, I managed to update Elenara’s profile and biography. Yay me! I wanted to do this for the longest time. The first iteration of her biography was rather short and I have developed her character since then a lot more through little posts here on Tumblr and fanfiction. I didn’t even know how many head-canons I had for Elenara until I started writing this. This made it so much more fun (and challenging).

I hope you enjoy reading this, although I know this a big reference post for myself for the most part. If you wanna know more about my Lavvelan, you’ll more posts about her via her tag.

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PROFILE

Full name: Elenara Lavellan Race: Dalish elf Class: Rogue, archer Specialization: Artificer Nationality: Free Marches Religion: Elven gods

Biometrics

Age: 32 (in 9:41 Dragon) Eye color: Green Hair color: Blonde Height: 1,55 m / 5,1 feet Weight: 43 kg / 86 pounds Vallaslin: Dirthamen Scars: Two facial scars (left eye, left side of her jaw), one on the lower back (from an arrow), two on the abdomen (from stab wounds).

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CHARACTER TRAITS

Positive: Empathetic, patient, and open-minded. Negative: Too trusting, tends to avoid confrontations, prone to procrastination

Motivation and goals

Elenara is driven by the desire to understand–be it politics, history or people. She always looks for the why and goes out of her way to see the world from other people’s perspective. Her goal is to create a world in which the people of Thedas can learn to co-exist peacefully.

Strengths and weakness

Due to her empathetic traits, she is a good mediator and knows how to broker a deal between different parties. She can make everyone feel valued and appreciated and thus build strong alliances between parties that would otherwise be at odds with each other. This strength is also the source of her greatest weakness. Her trustworthiness and forgiveness can be exploited by different people. Oftentimes, Elenara will not know that she has been betrayed until it’s too late.

Special abilities

She is a hunter first and foremost, skilled with the bow as much as a blade. As a young woman, she would learn how to mend old armor and sow new clothing. Her talent with a needle became useful when patching up injured hunters in the absence of a healer or medical professional. She is used to closing her own wounds, even if they will leave a scar.

Dreams and aspirations

As a young girl, she would dream about going to visit the Grand Tourney. As she became older, she aspired to attending a university to further her studies and be up-to-par with human scholars.

Best friends and confidants

With the Lavellan clan: Deshanna, Erendir and Almaril With the Inquisition: Varric, Dorian and Cassandra

Likes, dislikes and other preferences

Loves roasted chestnuts

Likes to sleep in open fields

Enjoys being alone in the woods,

Can spend hours on end daydreaming

Despises human shoes, but has a nack for make-up. Lipstick, especially.

Red is her favourite color

Nicknames

While the faithful called her “Herald of Andraste”, she never took much liking to the title. She prefered the nicknames given to her by relatives and friends like Nara (used by members of her clan), Aunt Ell (by the children of her friend Erendir), as well as Inky or Boss. After the Exalted Council, Varric would start to call her “Comtesse”⎯an ironic reference to the informal title she owned thanks to him.

→ You’ll find her biography (plus screenshots) behind the cut.

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BIOGRAPHY

Early years

Born in 9:09 Dragon as the daughter of the former First Hunter of the Lavellan clan, Elenara learned how to provide for herself and her kin at a very early age and became a fairly skilled archer. With a gift for crafts and needlework, she would often create new clothing or armor of her fellow hunters and help their healers tend to the wounded.

After the death of her father in 9:22 Dragon, she became fascinated with the lore and history of Thedas. More often than not, she would wander away from the camp to search for old ruins, until the keeper decided to provide Elenara with books to study instead. From then onward, the young hunter would craft new clothing to sell in the various cities in the Free Marches to pay for her education.

When coming of age, she decided to have the vallaslin of Dirthamen, keeper of secrets, tattooed to her face, as she felt drawn to the past of her people and the secrets it might hold. At the age of 31, she was knowledgeable about history, politics and the culture of various nations, which made her the perfect candidate when it was time for the keeper to choose a clan member to witness the conclave at Haven.

Although she deeply cared for her clan, only a few members ever got close to Elenara after her father’s death. Her aunt Irileth, her father’s younger sister, took care of her but became estranged from her niece when Elenara had grown into a woman. From then on, Elenara spent most of her time with Erendir, a young hunter only three years older than her. She admired his kindness and practicality while he was fascinated with her curiosity. For a time, they maintained in intimate relationship, until Erendir asked her to be his wife and have children with him.

Joining the Inquisition

When she was asked to attend the Divine’s conclave in Haven, she was eager to go, but uncertain how she or her clan could benefit from the outcome of the mage-templar war. Using her knowledge of human society, she managed to blend in with the crowd at the Temple of Sacred Ashes.

Being a simple hunter beforehand, she was confused by the explosion at the conclave and its aftermath. When she saw the destruction the Breach caused in Haven, she agreed to help in the efforts to stop this madness. She was reluctant when it came to joining the Inquisition however. Being a firm believer in the elven pantheon, Elenara had no ties with the chantry. Being called “Herald of Andraste” felt like deception to her, and so she never actively claimed that title for herself. She ultimately agreed to help Cassandra, Leliana and Cullen to form the Inquisition to secure her own safety and play her part in closing the Breach.

Her biggest concern in the early days of the Inquisition was to save the refugees in the Hinterlands and other regions of Ferelden and protected them from rebel mages and rogue templars alike. Soon, she became known for her compassion and temperance among the Inquisition forces.

With her choice to side with the rebel mages at Redcliffe, Elenara gained a whole heap of enemies, but also new powerful allies.

Becoming Inquisitor

After the descruction of Haven, Elenara struggled with her new role as Inquisitor. Being a firm believer in the elven Creators, she never quite felt at ease with leading the armies of the faithful, and she kept her thoughts on the matter fairly secret. Although her confidants knew about her doubts, she played along with the diplomatic charade Leliana had set up. She knew all too well that this was the only way to stop Corypheus before he could cloak the world.

In the back of her head, she was trying to find a way to use her new power as leverage to help her people–the elves.

Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts

After ending the conflict in the Dales between the imperial forces and the so-called Freeman, it was time to prevent the assassination attempt on Empress Celene. Leliana, Josphine and Vivienne would teach Elenara in the rules of the Great Game in preparation, as well as dancing and ettiquette.

Upon arriving in Halamshiral, Elenara found herself in a state of true panic for the first time since she joined the Inquisition. Right there, in the heart of the Dales where her people once fought for their freedom, she came to realize that she was no longer studying history, but making it with her own hands. Being looked down upon from the Orlesian nobles didn’t do much to help her ease into the situation. She had no fondness for the great game of deception the Orlesians like to play, although she managed to find her way around the Winter Palace. It was painfully clear that there was more at stake than her own reputation. Not just for the Inquisition, but for the elves in general.

In the end, she managed to confront Florianne de Chalons in front of the imperial court, putting an end to her plan to kill the empress. Elenara also managed the reveal delicate details about Grand-Duke Gaspard’s plans to usurpe the throne, and Celene had her cousin executed in response. Elenara’s goal was to reconcile Celene with her former lover to give the elven rebel an edge in Orlesian politics, but the empress exiled Briala instead. Elenara had Leliana and her spies keep an eye out for Briala’s whereabouts since she, too, was interested in helping the elves of Thedas.

Relationship with Solas

As Inquisitor, Elenera used every chance she got to deepen her knowledge of the world. Naturally, she would gravitate towards Solas, who knew more about the history of the world than anyone else she had ever met. She was fascinated by his abilities as a dreamer and would often listen to the stories he had found during his exploration of the Fade. More than that, she saw in him what the elves might be: proud, confident, and respected. Soon, she found herself infatuated with him though keep this to herself until the Inquisition reached Skyhold.

Even after their first kiss in the Fade, Elenara tried to keep her feelings for him fairly secret, meeting with Solas in private whenever possible. Afraid to admit that she had fallen in love with him, she tried to keep up the illusion of them being close friends in front of her companions. An endeavour that was destined to fail, as Varric and Dorian soon discovered the truth about the couple. And yet, Elenara stalled and put of saying “I love you” as long as possible – until one night by a lake near Crestwood.

More on her relationship with Solas here:

OTP Questions #1

OTP Questions #2

Death of the Lavellan clan

Shortly after the events at the Winter Palace, a messenger arrived with a terrible message. Bandits had attacked and killed the Lavellan clan. Any help from the Inquisition came too late.

After the death of her clan, Elenara was so devastated that she practically avoided any mention of them. She felt miserable and ashamed to have not been there to fight among them, and wouldn’t let Solas or any of her other companions comfort her. That was, until a few survivors arrived in the Frostback mountains. Among them were Erendir and his wife Almaril.

Happy to have them back in her life, Elenara offered them a place at Skyhold, but they refused. Almaril hated Elenara for joining the Inquisition while the clan had needed her, although she knew her friend had good reasons to stay in Haven. The bigger problem was Erendir, however. Although he had ended the relationship with Elenara at his own volition and went on to have children with Almaril, he didn’t fail to notice the attachment his former lover felt for Solas. Erendir had loved Elenara deeply and still regretted ending things between them, because she refused to have children with him. Seeing her with Solas, who was a better match for her than Erendir had ever been, made it even worse.

One night, he confronted Solas to learn more about the apostate‘s feelings for Elenara, eventually bragging about his shared past with her. Despite being tempted to teach the other elf a lesson, Solas left Erendir where he stood, determined to never speak of the matter again. When Elenara got wind of this, she felt betrayed and asked Erendir and Almaril to leave Skyhold. She made sure, however, that the Inquisition provided for them and the other surviving clan members before they parted ways.

Here Lies The Abyss & The Temple of Mythal

After the remaining members of the Lavellan clan left Skyhold, the Inquisition armies marched for Adamant Fortress. Interrupting the ritual with which the Grey Wardens would have summoned a demon army, Elenara and her party were attacked by Corphyeus’s lyrium dragon. Opening a rift, she managed to safe Warden Strout, Hawke and herself, as well as Solas, Cassandra and Dorian who had accompanied her on the mission.

After retrieving her memories and defeating the Nightmare, Elenara pressed on to stop Corypheus as soon as possible. After freeing Emprise the Lion from the red templars, she order a coordinated attack on the enemy troups in the Arbor Wilds.

Once again, she was accompanied by Solas, Cassandra, and Dorian as she entered the Temple of Mythal. Under differenty circumstances, finding the temple would be a life-long wish of hers fulfilled. Tempted to stay and study the ancient relief in the temple to learn as much about the past of her people, only the immediate danger of Corypheus taking the power of the Well of Sorrows let her press on.

Elenara sided with the Sentinels to bring down the red templars that attacked the ancient temple. Afraid of the power of the Well and what might do it with her, Elenara decided to let Morrigan drink from the waters and be bound to Mythal’s will.

When she ventured deeper into the Arbor Wilds to find the altar of the Mythal, Elenara had already begun to suspect that something was wrong. Until then, her belief in the elven gods had been unfaltering, but knowing that the All-Mother still lived and had chosen to ignore the plight of her people made her question their authority. Had she been unsure if she could continue her life as a Dalish elf and came to except that she had to become some else entirely.

The Vallaslin Removal

When Solas told her about the true meaning of the vallaslin, Elenara was deeply hurt. Though she had taken some pride in being Dalish and loved her people for trying to preserve elven history, she was disappointed by the elven Creators by this point that she wanted to leave her past and devotion for them behind. Therefore, she allowed Solas to take the vallaslin from her.

The Battle With Corypheus And After

Rattled by the events at the Temple of Mythal and the break-up with Solas, Elenara dove head first into the final confrontation with Corypheus, not hesitating to face the Tevinter magister in the Valley of Sacred Ashes. Fully prepared to die in battle, she fights her nemesis with brute force. When she finally obtained the orb from Corypheus’s hands, she banished the magister to the Fade without batting an eyelide. It was the first time, she came into contact with her darker side and gave in to her own lust for revenge.

After the battle and Solas disappearance, she began to feel exhausted, drained from the struggles. Slowly, she descended into a state of depression. Not only had she lost her clan, but also her home, her faith in the Creators and her identity, as well as the man she had come to love. Knowing all to well that it would be best for her to move on and find new purpose in live, she clung to her former life and couldn’t stop loving Solas. To distract herself, she took on the mission of finding the resting place of Inquistor Ameridan and was eager to help out with the earthquakes in the Deep Roads. Until...

The Exalted Council and the Qunari Invasion

Two years after the destruction of Haven, Cassandra, now known as Divine Victoria, called for an Exalted Council in Halamshiral. Returning to the city in which she had fought so hard to gain the respect of the Orlesian nobles – and humans in general – Elenara final came to the conclusion that in it was time to move on. She had felt lost for too long know and it was taking a toll on her. So, when the time came to meet with the ambassadors of Ferelden and Orlais, she fully expected the negotiations to result the the disbanding of the Inquisition.

And yet, when a qunari corpse was found in the middle of the Winter Palace, she felt that sense of purpse again. Dealing with the threat that the qunari posed gave her something to do, something she was actually good at. Even when the anchor was beginning to effect her health, she kept on going, determined to make herself useful again.

What she didn’t expect was to find out that Fen’Harel, the Dread Wolf, was orchestrating the events from behind the scenes. With what she had learned about Mythal, Elenara was willing to believe that Fen’Harel was a living and breathing entity, too. When she learned that Solas was the trickster god she learned to fear as a child, her world was shattered once again. Not even once did she consider joining him, for she had fought to hard to protect the world as she knew it. Even without a purpose and without a new identity that transcended her role as Inquisitor, she knew she could not let Solas go forth with his plans, no matter how much she still loved him.

After the Exalted Council

Learning that the Inquisition has been compromised by qunari spies and Fen’Harel’s agents, she executed her initial plan of disbanding the entire organization as soon as she and her party returned to the Winter Palace.

With the Inquisition gone, Elenara found herself free to go wherever she wanted. Now holding the title “Countess” in Kirkwall, she returned to the Free Marches and tried to settle in to her new estate in Hightown while corresponding with Cassandra, Dorian, Cullen and Leliana to coordinate the activities to counter Solas’s plan. She felt confident working from underground and plotting to redeem her former lover.

Six months after the painful revelation of Solas being Fen’Harel and Elenera’s fruitless attempts to learn more about her lovers whereabouts, she called in a few favors and went to Val Royeaux to attend the University of Orlais–one of the first elves to ever do so. The university gave her access to ancient documents with which she planned to further her studies on Fen’Harel, while her presence allowed elves to pursue an academic career more openly. Elenara fought for their rights for higher education, using her reputation as Inquisitor and “Herald of Andraste” as well as her acquaintance with Professor Kenric as leverage.

And there she remains, until she finds a way to change the Dread Wolf’s heart or counter his plan to destroy the world.

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #female inquisitor #female lavellan #f!lavellan #elenara lavellan #my ocs

19 notes · View notes

cse6441-blog · 5 years

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Week 7 Morning Lecture

Midsem

First we looked at some questions on the midsem. Apparently there was quite a good outcome overall (subjectively according to Richard), and most people did worst on questions 5 and 10.

Question 5. National Security Guy for the President Missiles Richard reasons that the answer is in fact Type 1/Type 2 Error that you would be most worried about. Although the rest of the answers would be things that you would be concerned about, the main worry is that you launch when you shouldn’t (False Positive) and can’t take back the launch or you can’t launch when you need to (False Negative).

An attacker therefore could identify that only the President is able to command the launch as a single point of failure and then take him out, thereby dearming the whole nation of their firepower. In that instance, if any other nation were to attack America, then they wouldn’t be able to order missiles out because only the President has the capability to, who is now dead.

Ironically, the movie Dr Strangelove that we watched later in the evening session had a great display of this example - where a general was able to exploit the system and direct an attack on Russia which could not be recalled without the secret passcode.

Question 10. The Merkle Puzzle Question As revealed, Richard got this answer wrong, the original intended answer was something that could be broken feasibly by a person the night before the exam (Lachlan) and an attacker would not be able to in a reasonable amount of time. This is essentially the idea of Merkle puzzles - where on average, the bad guy has to do a work factor of around 1/500000 (half a million) before they crack the right one.

The originally intended answer was RSA 512 since it was the best answer out of all the options. The other options were as reasoned:

One Time Pad - Uncrackable

Caesar Cipher - Too easy

Vigenere Cipher - Too easy

RSA 2048 - Too hard (takes too long)

SHA256 - A hashing algorithm, irreversible

However it was noted that the RSA cracked would be done using the PUBLIC KEY for ALL OF THEM. Therefore an attacker would only have to crack one for the private key and then be able to crack the rest instantly!

What is proof of liveness? There were some additional security terms that were introduced in the exam which I hadn’t encountered before. One of which is this idea of proof of liveness, which essentially is a indicative check if a person is on the other side of the handshake or not. In modern senses this is like a challenge response, where the person requests access and gets given something to solve to prove they are alive.

Diffie-Hellman (Key Exchange)

From last week we talked about being able to communicate security with someone whom you’ve never met over the internet. However, for a computer, who only knows 0s and 1s, the only form of verification is through shared secrets (something you are, something you know and something you have). However, this poses an issue with someone on the other side of the world

how can you securely communicate the KEY used in order to communicate privately?

The answer is Diffie-Hellman key exchange!

Originally conceptualised by Ralph Merkle (this guy wow lmaooo) and named after Diffie and Hellman, the Diffie-Hellman is a method to securely exchange keys over a public channel. DH is one of the earliest implementations of a public-key protocol in cryptography.

The basic mathematics behind DH is that it utilises exponentiation and modulus in order to obtain Confidentiality. In the lectures, Richard simply covered a simplification using only exponentiation:

Richard and another person (let’s call him Frank) agree on a base number (e.g. 5). This is assumed public information, so it’s fine if everyone knows. Now then Richard and Frank each think of a secret number which they don’t tell anyone

Richard’s number = 7

Frank’s number = 3

Now they simply take the base and raise it to their secret number

Richard: 5^7 = 78125

Frank: 5^3 = 125

Then they simply send each other the result of this calculation (or the last few digits if you were to imagine it was modded). Although this example seems quite trivial to break, imagine if the base and the secrets were 20 digits long! Then it would be a lot harder to reverse the base and secret.

This occurs because of the Mathematical loss of information which makes it easy to encrypt and hard to reverse, also known as the Discrete Logarithm Problem, and is the reason why DH is so effective. (See: https://www.khanacademy.org/computing/computer-science/cryptography/modern-crypt/v/discrete-logarithm-problem)

In this case, the base and the result of the calculation are PUBLIC, while the kept secrets are PRIVATE.

Next to add another layer of security, Richard then takes the result sent by Frank publicly and raises that number to his secret number - and Frank does the same with Richard’s result.

Richard: 125^7 = 4E14

Frank: 78125^3 = 4E14

The resultant numbers from both operations are thereby EQUAL because of the COMMUTATIVE PROPERTY of powers. In this way by getting the same result, Richard and Frank are able to verify that they are indeed communicating with each other through a public protocol - and they can settle on the end result as the key for their communication.

The reason this works so well is because just through the initial messages, it’s impossible to find out from them what they key is. Since the key was never actually transmitted in messages, listening in on the communication won’t help an attacker! You’re not actually sending any information during the key exchange, but creating one together :)

We do this exactly in practice, where we mix up the information we are sending so that whoever is listening in is unable to decipher the secret from the message. This is called FORWARD SECRECY/SECURITY, which means that even if in future, if someone were to go back and uncover your old messages, they would still be encrypted and unable to be read.

Note: this doesn’t however provide Authentication because you can’t actually verify if it is really Frank or Richard from the other side. You can only tell through this that you’re still sending it to the same person, and that your line is confidential.

Sources: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Diffie%E2%80%93Hellman_key_exchange

https://security.stackexchange.com/questions/45963/diffie-hellman-key-exchange-in-plain-english

https://www.khanacademy.org/computing/computer-science/cryptography/modern-crypt/v/diffie-hellman-key-exchange-part-2

Krak de Chevaliers

Krak de Chevaliers was a multi-layered fortress run by the Knights Templar in 1144CE (many years ago). This boi was STACKED, with a strong defence system (Defence in Depth) and prime location perched atop a hill - and as such was considered for many years virtually IMPREGNABLE, being the largest Crusader castle during the 12th century.

Many attacks were held against this fortress, and a few got through past the first wall, but none were able to reach the inner before being eviscerated. It was THAT GOOD.

The design of this boi is ingenious, with every line of physical defence covered. First it has several concentric layers that wear down attacks during their sieges. Then there are moats and several stages in which armies have to be split up due to the restrictions in entry points. Furthermore, they’ve got towers to lay hellfire to any attackers, with an elevated view for the inner wall which is both hard to penetrate being up so high as well as advantageous to provide a vantage point to provide support to the outer wall defences. Then you’ve got sloped points that are vulnerable for attackers and good for the defenders as well as sharp purposeful right angled walls so that there are minimal areas to cover against fire.

In the end however, the fortress did eventually fall to Muslim hands and the knights surrendered after a forged letter was sent through ordering them to lay down. So in the end, humans were the issue and despite all the complex defence mechanisms in place, even the mighty Krak de Chevaliers fell to SOCIAL ENGINEERING.

Sources:

https://www.ancient.eu/Krak_Des_Chevaliers/

Vulnerabilities

Let’s go over a few terms real quicc:

Vulnerability: a potential weakness in something

Exploit: taking advantage of a weakness (the application)

Software Bug: a mistake in something

Memory Corruption Memory Corruption refers to when a bad guy is able to modify and change what happens in memory (i.e. modifying address, contents stored in memory, etc). Through this the make programs do things that they aren’t originally supposed to.

One form of memory corruption is a Buffer Overflow which we saw last week (https://insecure.org/stf/smashstack.html) covered by Aleph One. This memory corruption happens on the Stack where a buffer can be written to past its given size and as such, data gets overwritten on the stack.

The vulnerability of this lecture is FORMAT STRINGS :) Now the thing with vulnerabilities is that it’s quite like the flu. Once someone discovers the vulnerability, they quickly discover that it’s everywhere. Every program and piece of code has it. Once word gets out, the big companies quickly work to patch it, but with smaller institutions and businesses (which is the vast majority of the population), don’t bother with it for a while; because of laziness or cost benefits, etc.

A simple way to illustrate the format string vulnerability is through a simple C program. You may be familiar with the function printf()from first year computing. The thing with printf()is that by good practice, you should be using formats as the first argument in the print function ( printf(%s, “Hello World”)). However we know from experience that this is NOT the case. Programmers are lazy and simply write the string as the first argument without specifying a format in the first place. In fact, pretty much every tutorial every will start with just telling you to pass the string “Hello World” directly into the function.

The issue then again lies in the case where a user is allowed to enter input and a programmer then prints whatever they enter to stdout.

For example, the program:

reads in an input

that input is stored in a variable name.

then the program simply executes printf(name);

Sure, the program is harmless when the user enters what we expect them to, however what if a format argument is passed (i.e. %d, %s, %n, %t, etc)?

Well if the user entered something like the string “Richard%x”:

printf()will take the letters Richard

print that out

and identify %x and look for the NEXT ARGUMENT to substitute into %x

However, in the above input, there is no next argument like in the case of %s, “Hello World’. So the program will then look to the next item on the stack and use that in place for %x. Thereby this format string attack can be used to gather information about what is stored on the stack, and you can decipher what was done in the previous functions.

While this may seem quite harmless, with just gathering information - this isn’t the extent of a format string attack. In fact, there are many many MANY formats you can use and each of them do a variety of things in C.

(this C++ but it the same lol)

From above %n is frighteningly scary because it actually WRITES TO MEMORY, storing the number of characters written to the pointed location. Now this can have extremely dangerous effects and is what we are so scared of when it comes to format strings attacks and memory corruption!

In practice, this is however quite difficult to do, but very much possible. It does take a certain amount of luck and preparation in order to successfully perform a truly devastating format string attack, however, Richard likens the situation with vulnerabilities to SWISS CHEESE.

If you take a block of swiss cheese and you slice it up in a few pieces, then rearrange it multiple times and try to line them those pieces up together, once in a while those holes will line up and you can stick your finger right through. It’s very much like this in reality. The bugs are the little holes which seem so small and insignificant on their own, with little format string reads from memory and buffer overflows. But if you pair all those attacks together, once in a while those bugs align and an attack is successful!

More Terms to Know

Shell Code

Let’s say you’re attacking a system, and you’ve gotten in - but you’re unsure what you want to attack at the moment. Well what you can do is simply generate a nice private shell externally on your computer which has access to their system remotely. This is what is known as shell code - writing code that generates an external shell which you have control over.

NOP Sled

NOP is a command in machine code that literally makes the CPU do nothing for a few cycles. So a NOP sled is simply just a sequence of these instructions to make the CPU slide to the desired destination. Therefore an attacker is able to utilise a NOP sled by making the program go to a specific address where they may have stored malicious code! The ingenious aspect of a NOP sled is that they are used to increase the attack area over a huge range of memory. That way the chances that the program lands anywhere in the NOP sled increases, and it trickles down to wherever they want to run. This deals with the issue of memory being randomised and allocated everywhere.

In Assembly, this is literally just:

NOP; NOP; NOP; NOP; NOP; NOP; NOP; // etc etc lmaoo

*Interestingly you can find programs which try and exploit this by simply Googling a sequence of NOP commands and you’ll land upon matching ones with NOP sleds :) (https://github.com/snoack/python-goto/commit/2b0f5e5069cbb88776b0d070d6608e4064735d96)

There are also other ways in which you can make a program ‘do nothing’. For example, making a program add 1 and subtract 1 continually to a register.

Sources:

https://www.oreilly.com/library/view/practical-malware-analysis/9781593272906/ch20s07.html

Responsible Disclosure

Let’s say you’re a bug bounty hunter, and you happen across a bug in some licensed software. What is the right way to go about alerting the developer/company? Normally companies will have some sort of feedback form in which you can submit reports on bugs and how to reproduce them. However if this isn’t the case, normally you should do some research about the bug you’ve encountered and generate a report to send to the company. In this way you’re first giving them time to fix it. In the instance that nothing gets done after you’ve informed them, you should slowly escalate the problem up the chain. The most important thing is to NOT LET THE BAD GUYS HAVE IT (unless you are one of them or ludicrous amounts of money is involved).

Assets

Assets are a very hard thing to define, but identifying what is important to protect is incredibly important because it allows you to prioritise your assets and how you can go about setting up defences.

In the lecture, Richard showed us the starting clip from the movie ‘Team America’ where a satirical team of over-the-top terrorist fighting Hollywood personalities went above and beyond to protect what they believed was the MOST IMPORTANT asset; the lives of the French civilians. In the following clip, we can see them using all force necessary (minus the hand to hand combat from Karate Kid) to put down the terrorists, but in the process they destroy some of the most monumental pieces of French history (notably the Louvre, Eiffel Tower, etc).

Video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HIPljGWGNt4

One could argue that they did more harm than good than if they just let the terrorists blow up the citizens, however it’s really a matter of perspective as those people may value the historical assets over the human lives. This really is a tough question of ethics, but ultimately I think a good point is brought up here. History, no matter how beautiful and valuable, dims in the preciousness that is human life. If human life is taken out, there is a destruction of potential in the future - whereas historical artefacts can be recreated. History will be made anyway, so it’s arguable, but human life is ultimately the most precious asset.

History is Forgotten

Back when Richard was a boy, he recalls the time of the Cold War where Reagan and Gorbachev where locked in a heated battle of chicken. Both nations had nukes pointed at one another, in retaliation of the threat each imposed on one another. However, Richard had a thought:

“If the Russians attack America, and they don’t retaliate, in a few years people will just forget it happened and be happy that they have half a planet left”

While this is quite dark to think about, it is what I believe to be a cold truth. Time precedes all, and no matter how big the disaster or devastating the crime, people forget or stop caring anymore. If you think about all the great big battles that were such a huge deal at the time, now they’re almost so insignificant in the grand scheme of things. In the whole timeline of the Universe, a battle is simply an instant, and in a few hundred years people forget about it all.

Richard likens this phenomenon with the great poem “Ozymandias”, about the history ‘King of Kings’. Such a person with a magnificent statue must have been extremely great and honourable at the time. He might have been the biggest deal in his area, but ultimately time took him as well. And like the poem says, ‘nothing else remains’. Whatever happened with the great Ozymandias, no one knows or cares anymore. History has left him behind in the sands.

Opinion: In time, everything becomes insignificant and nothingness. Perhaps we should preserve what is truly valuable - that which is all precious and important. Although devastating would be the destruction of the Louvre, life is the greatest asset.

Poem:

I met a traveller from an antique land, Who said—“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand, Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, Tell that its sculptor well those passions read Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed; And on the pedestal, these words appear: My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings; Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair! Nothing beside remains. Round the decay Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare The lone and level sands stretch far away.”

Great reading + animation of ‘Ozymandias’ by Bryan Cranston from Breaking Bad: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sPlSH6n37ts

Protecting your Assets

You might value something as the most important asset, whereas an attacker might be after something else. So it’s very easy to protect the wrong thing and put resources into defending the wrong areas.

Richard had a friend who lived in Surry Hills which was a rough neighbourhood back in the day. Very often his car’s window would be smashed open with a brick and his car would be rummaged for money. However, his friend didn’t keep any money inside his car, and so he felt devastated, having to always pay to repair his broken window. To him, the most valuable asset was the car window. So his solution was simply to leave his car window open. That way, attackers would go approach and find that they wouldn’t need to break the window to get in. In the end, it worked!

So when you protect the right assets, you yield the best results. Coke knows that their most valuable asset is not their secret recipe - in fact, probably hundreds of thousands of employees across the globe know the recipe. Coke’s most valuable asset is their BRAND. The Coke brand has become so powerful that it has its own psychological effect on people. In fact, in a blind taste test between Coke and Pepsi, researchers found that Pepsi almost always won. However, when participants knew which was Coke and which was Pepsi, more often than not, they preferred Coke. Even more interesting is the fact that when analysing the brain during this process, researchers found that Pepsi lit up the part of the brain that dealt with taste and senses, whereas Coke lit up the area of the brain to do with Identity.

https://slate.com/business/2013/08/pepsi-paradox-why-people-prefer-coke-even-though-pepsi-wins-in-taste-tests.html

#week7 #lectures

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not-so-merry-band · 5 years

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Headcanons and character info nobody asked for

Part [3/?]

Episode 3: Hyledd

Her parents are warriors from the same Chasind clan.

She was born during an annual meeting of clans.

As a child, she was very weak. She got sick often, didn't have strength and speed. In few words, she was not a norm among the other children.

When she was 4, she got a sister and grew very jealous of her because she believed she was more favourable than her.

She was easily exploited, used and mistreated by other and mocked from kids of her age. That led her hid in her shell and spend time alone in the woods.

At the age of 8, her magic skills emerged and went under the protection of her clan's shaman, who teached her most of the things she knows about the fade.

Her connection with the fade might was strong, but physically she was still weak. The shaman saw no future for her and believed her parents should have ended her burden earlier.

At the age of 16 she ran away and headed north without provisions. Her feet had bled from walking and soon passed out from hunger. That was her first encounter with the wild.

Ending in a settlement, coming in touch with civilization for the first time was not the best. Templars were called and she had to run away again.

The more time she spent alone, the more weak she became against demons...until she discovered blood magic so she hadn't to draw power from the fade.

Has followed lost travellers and saw them slowly become mad from exhaustion and hunger. Helping them was up to what they had to offer in return. Sometimes, she was the one who had to stop their suffering.

Had found a wounded elf and took care of her, believing she had found someone she could trust. The elf's clan found them and thank Hyledd for keeping her alive. They left the forest but not before informing other Dalish about Hyledd.

That's how she started being in touch with the Dalish and studied their culture.

Had found an elvhen ruin but kept it secret.

Her cooking skills are below average but she doesn't mind eating her food burned or raw. Often mistakes salt with sugar.

Loves snow and hates rain and mud.

She had tried taking care of plants and little birds but with no avail.

Once owned a squirrel for a month until it escaped she lost it.

Has secret outposts where she hides stolen things.

Yes, she steals. Also, loots dead bodies.

Has tasted rotten flesh and human and elven meat.

She carries thorn wounds on all of her body among with cuts on her arms and fingers.

Do you remember when we were young and mixed sand with water and leaves to make the ultimate potion? Hyledd still does that.

Owns a whole set of knives that always carry with her. All the knives are stolen.

Has spent days in a bear liar by choice.

All the stolen goods she owns are categorised; rings, letters, coins, clothes etc. She also has a wide collection of skulls, mostly from animals.

Good orientation skills.

Can't read or write in common tongue. She can't speak the elven language but can understand it when its written.

#headcanons #hyledd:hc #hyledd #my ocs

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rauthschild · 4 years

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Election Becomes Star Wars Episode—Trump Is Zeroing In On “Core Reactor”

24 November 2020

Hello Folks,

As some of you may remember from my past letters, I’m an avid follower of church historian Professor James Papandrea, Ph.D. at the Garrett-Evangelical Theological Seminary in Evanston-Illinois, and I personally know the truth of his philosophy that “ultimately the Christian faith is one in which sheep become shepherds”.

In his must read book “How Christianity Saved Civilization... And Must Do So Again”, Professor Papandrea describes ancient Rome's brutal culture that exploited the weak and considered human life expendable, where women were used as property and unwanted children were left on the streets to die—but then Christian Shepherds arose, and “four centuries later, even ordinary men and women prospered in what had become a vigorous new Christian society, a society that served the vulnerable, exalted women, treasured virtue, and loved peace....Faith had triumphed...Truth was proclaimed...And on this rock-solid foundation, Christian society flourished in the West for the next 1500 years”.

I believe it’s important for you to know about Professor Papandrea, not just because of his accomplished historical works, rather because of an article he wrote a few years back entitled “Examining the Christian Imagery of Star Wars”—the parts of which I’d like to focus your attention on being:

In the midst of the Cold War, Star Wars reminded the Western world of the last time that it was easy to tell good from evil.

For many people, it also solidified their suspicion that communism (in whatever form it may take) was no less a threat to freedom than fascism.

And so we have the Galactic Empire, a fascist regime in which a ruling tyrant enslaves an ever-widening sphere of victims through violence and fear.

We have the Rebel Alliance, reminiscent of the French resistance, engaging in almost hopeless guerrilla warfare against the evil empire for the sake of freedom.

And to add a flavor of holy crusade, we have the Jedi Knights, warrior saints reminiscent of the Templars or other medieval militant holy men.

They even use swords, of the laser variety.

The Death Star, a moon-sized station with the power of complete destruction. is a metaphor for the Cold War threat of nuclear annihilation, but it is also a symbol of the absolute power of an invincible government that exists only for the benefit of those in power and considers the vast majority of people expendable.

Rebel Alliance trembles when the Galactic Empire begins construction of planet killing Death Star (above).

Today in our time, President Donald Trump, the American people, indeed the entire world are once again confronting the “absolute power of an invincible government that exists only for the benefit of those in power and considers the vast majority of people expendable”—the evidence and proof of which are now abundantly clear to everyone, and this past week saw Cambridge University educated disease expert Dr. Roger Hodkinson calling out this new “Galactic Empire” and their pandemic hoax during a government forum in Vancouver-Canada openly telling them: [Note: If video below is deleted click HERE.]

It is outrageous to shut down society for what is merely just another bad flu.

Masks are utterly useless. There is no evidence base for their effectiveness whatsoever.

Paper masks and fabric masks are simply virtue signaling.

They’re not even worn effectively most of the time. It’s utterly ridiculous. Seeing these unfortunate, uneducated people – I’m not saying that in a pejorative sense – seeing these people walking around like lemmings obeying without any knowledge base to put the mask on their face.

I’m absolutely outraged that this has reached this level, it should all stop tomorrow.

There is utterly unfounded public hysteria driven by the media and politicians, it’s outrageous, this is the greatest hoax ever perpetrated on an unsuspecting public, its politics playing medicine and that’s a dangerous game.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6VH2pbVr6O8&feature=emb_logo&ab_channel=TheLineofBestFlat

Now I’ve related this information to better enable you to more fully understand what famed American legal scholar Professor Jonathon Turley from George Washington University is really trying to say in his article “The Death Star Strategy: Is Trump Contemplating The Ultimate Constitutional Trick Shot?”—wherein Professor Turley explains the “Death Star Strategy” he believes President Trump is using, and says: “If this is the Trump team’s plan, it will make Luke Skywalker’s shot look like a beanbag toss”—a reference to Star Wars hero Luke Skywalker, who used “the force” on an impossible mission to destroy the Death Star and succeeded—but buried deep within the subtext of Professor Turley’s article is its truest meaning of being a hidden message—a hidden message that can only be understood by knowing that George Washington University was founded by Freemasons—Freemasons whose origins stretch back to the Knight Templars—and to fill out your knowledge of what is really going on, go first to our 27 January 2017 report “Doomsday Warned Near As CIA Nears Open Civil War Against Freemason Leader Trump”, then scroll down to the bottom of the page and read the other articles in this series—and after reading, you’ll understand the significance of why President Trump posted the message “So honored by Archbishop Viganò’s incredible letter to me…I hope everyone, religious or not, reads it!” on 10 June 2020—a letter wherein Archbishop Carlo Maria Viganò “described the worldwide coronavirus response and the widespread Black Lives Matter agitations as tactics of a Masonic Deep State that seeks to hurt the American president’s reelection chances and ultimately ‘dominate the world’ to create a globalist ‘New World Order’”—and right before the election, saw Archbishop Viganò writing another letter President Trump warning: “This historical moment sees the forces of Evil aligned in a battle without quarter against the forces of Good; forces of Evil that appear powerful and organized as they oppose the children of Light, who are disoriented and disorganized, abandoned by their temporal and spiritual leaders…Mr. President, you are well aware that, in this crucial hour, the United States of America is considered the defending wall against which the war declared by the advocates of globalism has been unleashed”.

For those of you not knowing about these things, the simplest historic explanation of what you are witnessing must see you first understanding that the United States was founded as a Freemason sanctuary by those who split with their European counterparts over ideological and spiritual differences—both of whose pasts stretch back to the Knights Templar—but as the European faction sought control over the individual to subsume it into a collective, the American faction advocated the primacy of the individual over everything else.

Since the splitting of these factions, our world has seen countless wars and hundreds-of-millions of deaths—and the greatest one of all is currently raging all around you gathering tremendous force—with one faction being led by President Trump, while the other is being led by his socialist-globalist enemies who’ve combined all of their leaders and forces in this epic battle—which is why the scale and dimensions of this conflict are being compared to a Star Wars episodic movie pitting the Galactic Empire against the Rebel Alliance.

Some of the visible parts of this conflict you’re witnessing Sister Ciara explained about in her letter “Election Was Decided On November 20—But Fog Of War Conceals Winner”—though for you to grasp the full significance of what’s happening, you need to understand the Sisters’ report “Some Forget That Election Crimes Have To Be Committed Not Suspected—Trump Isn't One Of Them”—and when understanding, you’ll realize that no real crime has yet to be committed by those attempting to steal this election—as before a crime can be charged, something of real value has to have been stolen.

Which is why it’s important to have noticed yesterday when President Trump posted the message: “What does GSA being allowed to preliminarily work with the Dems have to do with continuing to pursue our various cases on what will go down as the most corrupt election in American political history?...We are moving full speed ahead…Will never concede to fake ballots & ‘Dominion’”—a message showing that President Trump had authorized the General Services Administration to begin releasing federal funds to the Biden presidential transition team—that for the first time makes this election a federal crime, as money is now being stolen from the American people based on its fraudulent results.

And critical to notice about what President Trump did, was his authorizing the release of these federal funds only after Georgia certified its corrupted election—was certified by its Governor Brian Kemp, who its now being claimed was bought off by Communist China along with California Governor Gavin Newsome—and then following what President Trump had done, then saw his allied attorney L. Lin Wood posting the message: “Would someone ask my never-to-be friend Brad Raffensperger @GaSecofState if he has seen this tape of election fraud at State Farm Arena in Fulton Co., GA?...Several people have seen it...Many more will see it soon...Video camera eye does not lie...How do you spell Election Fraud?...In time, people are going to prison in Georgia”.

What I personally find is the most significant event to be paid attention to, though, are the massive number of military flights taking place all over America—most particularly the black ops flights and marathon trips to and from GITMO—especially as to how these GITMO flights are related to Sidney Powell, who is registered as a military lawyer and can prosecute treason charges before a military tribunal.

Now I’d like to tell you exactly how and exactly when all of this is going to end, but the best advice I’d like to share is for you all to remember that unlike predictions, Biblical prophecies are based on observed patterns—and one of the most important patterns I’ve focused on is that President Trump was born on 14 June 1946, which was exactly 700-days before Israel's birth as a nation on 14 May 1948—which is why I wasn’t surprised at all when President Trump recognized Jerusalem as the capitol of Israel and he began forcing Arab nations to make peace deals with their Jewish neighbors—nor have I been surprised at how President Trump has always been able to outsmart and defeat his enemies, as it’s the Bible itself that promises those who support Israel: “And I will bless those who bless you, And the one who curses you I will curse.”.

For those of you knowing the truth that this isn’t a simple election battle, but is an epic conflict pitting the forces of good against those of evil, I ask you to support those of us fighting today behind and on the front lines of this war to keep it from your doorstep by going below and giving what you can—and in your deciding what to do, I ask only that you remember the words of the American Founding Father Samuel Adams, who in his time of struggle and great need against these same forces of darkness, likewise appealed for aid by writing to his fellow citizens: “If ye love wealth better than liberty, the tranquility of servitude better than the animating contest of freedom, go home from us in peace…We ask not your counsels or your arms…Crouch down and lick the hands which feed you…May your chains set lightly upon you, and may posterity forget that you were our countrymen”.

All the best folks,

Brian Webmaster Paris

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jonogueira · 6 years

Text

8 OC Facts

Thank you for the tags @laraslandlockedblues, @shannaraisles , @gugle1980

and I am so sorry it took me soo long to answer (sorry if anyone else tagged me and I didn’t tag here)

Áine.

1. Claustrophobia:

After being tied to a table for days, Áine doesn’t like to be anywhere where she can’t see outside. The place has to have at least one small window through where she can flee. Even after months sleeping in Cullen’s quarters she still makes sure to be looking at one of the windows before falling asleep.

2. Afraid of magic:

Although being a mage, she is afraid of magic. She has seen what magic can do when a person is scared or doesn’t have full control over it. First Kinloch, where she saw abominations, blood magic, the things Uldred released in the tower and Aiden carving those symbols on her lower belly. The second was in Kirkwall, when after Anders – whose actions she doesn’t blame, but doesn’t also approve – blew up the chantry, things were chaotic. And third and last, in the Inquisition. The scar in the sky is magic made, and everything that came after the explosion is a result of it.

She tries to use her magic only in situations that she doesn’t have other choices. She knows her limits and limitations and works hard to improve them every day.

3. Afraid of tranquility:

She doesn’t like magic, but the thought of becoming tranquil makes her body tremble every time. Not being able to feel, really scares her. She knows tranquils, and she respects them, even if they’ve chosen to become tranquils the respect is still the same, not everyone is prepared to deal with magic. She is not best friends with Cassandra, but they see each other eye to eye, and when she finds out the rite can be reversed she keeps reminding the warrior through hints here and there.

4. Doesn’t like killing:

Life for her is precious. She knows some people are beyond salvation, but she still is against killing without a very good reason. “Walk a mile in other people’s shoes” is what she is always telling the others, before judging she likes to know what drove the person to do what he/she has done. And people tend to see this as a weakness and often exploit this side of her. She is thankful her family and friends are there to open her eyes.

5. Family:

She was taken to the circle when she was just a child, like many other mages, so family for her was something she only had after she fled Kirkwall. When her brothers and her mother found her in that cave, she thought she would die, but instead, they welcomed her as one of them, taught her how to survive and find her true self. She thanks the Maker every day after she wakes up and before going to bed, for he has given her a family, which she will do anything to protect. ANYTHING.

6. She is Pro circle.

Yes, you read it right. She is in favor of circles, BUT not as they were.

In her mind circles should be a place for mages to learn magic and how to control it, not a prison. She thinks mages should spend part of the day in the circle, mastering their abilities, and the rest of the day they should be outside with the people, – fear comes from something we do not understand. So how can people understand how magic works, if the people that have it, are locked away in a place they cannot see? – helping them however they can, and at night come back to the circle to sleep. This way people would learn that mages are people.

Magic is a tool to be used, like knives, shovels, carts, shields, and bows. The “object” itself is as dangerous as the person wielding it.

7. Likes to watch Cullen.

She dreamed of him for YEARS, and now that she has him she can’t believe it. How can he want her? He is much more than she is. He is the Commander of the Inquisition; she is a spy. He is an ex-Templar, an ex-Knight-Captain; she will always be a mage. So she likes to watch him, and memorize every scar, every curl of his hair (she hates that he styles his hair, and every opportunity that she has to run her finger though it she takes it). She watches him eating, and working and exercising ~wink wink~. She knows he watches her in her sleep and she doesn’t mind because she does the same. She is always touching him, to know it isn’t a dream. She thanks the Maker for allowing this happiness in her life as much or even more than she does for her family.

8. Aiden.

He is her BIGGEST fear.

She dreams with him and wakes up cold. After she started her relationship with Cullen, she learned how to control it. She still sits up abruptly in the middle of the night sometimes waking Cullen up, but it is a rare occurrence now. She never talks about him with anyone, including Cullen. He used to ask her about him, but after times and times she refused, he relented. She knows he means well, but it haunts her, she carries Aiden’s touch with her twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, wherever she goes.

She is most afraid because she knows it isn’t over yet. She knows he is just waiting for the right moment to act. He once told her she was his, and he isn’t going to give up his prize.

#8 oc facts #facts #meme #áine #aine

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teecupangel · 11 months

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Hello. Hope you're doing well

What do you think about ezio and leonardo but ezio as Toothless and leo as hiccup?

(idk mabey ezio can shift into a dragon? and use any type of dragon you like)

Thanks for your wonderful blog

There are so many dragons to choose from that the only thing I have right now is: white dragon with maybe gold eyes (maybe a bit of red scales too?) so I guess, in this scenario, if we’re staying with How To Train Your Dragon dragons, Light Fury would be the most obvious choice.

Of course, there’s also the legendary ‘White Dragon’ that we don’t have a lot of information with so Ezio could be part of a bloodline that can shape-shift to the legendary white dragon.

In this scenario, maybe the Auditore family is one of the remaining direct descendants of the shape-shifting White Dragons.

Are they human? Are they dragons? The answer is simple: they are both.

Perhaps the reason why the White Dragons have not been seen for so long now is because their bloodline had nearly been decimated due to humans fearing what they could not understand. And even in the Auditore bloodline, Ezio is the first shape-shifter in centuries. They only have stories, well kept and hidden from even other member of the families.

Only three will always know the secret: the head, the heir and the spare.

And Ezio was not supposed to be the heir or the spare even if he was the second oldest.

Giovanni Auditore understood that the best candidate as heir of House Auditore was Claudia, his third child and only daughter with his oldest Federico taking the spot of the ‘spare’.

Federico was fine with that. He didn’t have his own wishes and dreams other than to be of some use to his family (while being able to enjoy life as he desired).

Ezio didn’t want to lead House Auditore and Giovanni saw that and that was why he was passed over. He mostly does errands for his parents when he’s not busy visiting the person he’s crushing hard on or if he’s not painting.

Petruccio was too young at the moment to be added to the ‘list’ and his weak constitution made it risky to even see him a candidate.

Claudia had the fire in her eyes as an Auditore and is stubborn but smart, knowing when to fold them but never forgetting others’ actions against her. She reminds Giovanni of his beloved Maria and knew that Claudia would lead House Auditore better than his flighty sons.

And then…

Ezio turned 18 and disappeared…

And rumors of a white dragon start spreading all over Italia.

Unorganized Notes (more on the side of backstory):

Is this set in How to Train Your Dragon world and ‘Italia’ is just another location or is this set in AC world but replaced the Assassins and Templars with dragons? Pick your poison.

Ezio and Leonardo knew each other because they both paint. They’re not close (although Leonardo likes to believe that they were getting to that point before Ezio’s disappearance… and he would be right) but they were friendly with one another and would sometimes talk about mundane things.

Claudia, Federico and Giovanni all know the white dragon is Ezio and they fear that Ezio had forgotten that he was human as well. They have stories of white dragons going insane and fully embracing their ‘dragon side’, making them mindless beasts of destruction and they’re afraid of that but they want to find Ezio and keep him safe.

The whole ‘fully embracing’ and dragon/human side things are not true. There’s no such thing. The stories have been muddled because they did not keep actual written records in fear of being prosecuted so everything is passed down via speech only. The dragon shifters are both human and dragon, they cannot fully embrace one side because there is no real line between the two. The supposed mindless beast of legends was actually a shape-shifter who had been tortured and broke, turning ‘mindless’ because of it. It was meant to be a warning to how there are people who would exploit them even if it means breaking them and to be cautious but it has turned into fear of becoming a monster all on their own.

Ezio doesn’t know he can turn into a dragon. He doesn’t know he can turn back in human any time he wants but he can’t do that because his fear of being a dragon keeps him from shifting as shifting can only be done if someone is calm as they try to shift. Whenever Ezio tries to turn back to being human, he’s more on the side of panicking or begging but fearing that it won’t do anything.

For the Leonardo and Ezio interactions (still unorganized notes):

Leonardo meets Ezio by accident and Ezio didn’t fly away because he recognized Leonardo and saw no fear in his eyes, only surprise which quickly turn into a big smile.

Leonardo is not afraid of Ezio because he heard the rumors, of course, but there were no evidence that the dragon was violent. If anything, it sounded more like a skittish creature so Leonardo tries to give him an apple as a peace offering, making soft sounds to not scare him.

Ezio notices it and thinks Leonardo is patronizing him, and he bats the apple away while staring at Leonardo with a deadpan expression.

This only excites Leonardo because they were communicating and the dragon wasn’t trying to leave.

It ends with Leonardo visiting Ezio’s current hideout regularly, offering different food to try and gain the dragon’s ‘friendship’. Ezio just humors him because he trusts Leonardo won’t rat him out and… well… he bought him cake once and Ezio missed the taste of sugar.

Leonardo starts sketching him and Ezio realized that he could communicate with Leonardo if he just writes words in something like mud or sand. (God, he’s so stupid! Why haven’t he thought of that???)

He doesn’t tell Leonardo that he’s Ezio though because he’s afraid that Leonardo would think he’s a monster. There’s a difference between a wild dragon that could understand human words and a human turned dragon in Ezio’s mind (also, at this point, Ezio has been all alone and Leonardo is the first human to ever look at him like he’s not scary at all)

So the plots would be: (Plot A) Ezio and Leonardo bonding with Ezio as a dragon (if this is meant to be EziLeo, it would be more of Ezio falling in love with Leonardo while Leonardo was harboring hidden feelings for human!Ezio, never saying anything at all), and (Plot B) Claudia, Giovanni, Federico looking for Ezio while keeping everybody else (especially the Borgias) from learning about Ezio’s ‘connection’ to the white dragon. An optional (Plot C) if this isn’t EziLeo were Ezio’s chosen love interest is looking for Ezio on their own and knows the Auditore family is hiding something.

(I’m glad you’re enjoying my blog :))

#ezio is a dragon #sorta #honestly #i think this would work better as an ezileo #but making them best friends is also a good plot point #the only way for ezio to shift back to human #is to stop being afraid of being a dragon #ask and answer #assassin's creed #ezio auditore #leonardo da vinci #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed #for once #this doesn't have desmond in it XD #how to train your dragon au #not a crossover #maybe

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mavrisfanfics · 7 years

Text

[Request] - Altair X Reader

Ask:

(My ask box is finally empty)

Fandom: Assassin’s Creed

Pairing: Altair Ibn-La'Ahad x Reader

Words: 2236

Warnings: Slight nudity, but nothing too explicit, I think... some sexual mentions too. Also, I believe Altair is OOC af.

Notes: I honestly don’t like how this came up, although I loved the idea. I made the mistake of not writing it all at once and just when I decided to finish it, other problems came up and it... disrupted me. Hell, I couldn’t even come up with a title. I did my best, but honestly I feel like it’s not as good as the others.

It’s just... Portugal has been burning all over, literally, and now there’s a wildfire some good miles away from my grandma’s house. The thing is that flames are spread faster than they seem, and my parents fear it might reach my grandma and aunts tonight or tomorrow. They’re preparing things to leave and help them if needed, in which case I’ll be alone at home. Not only that, but there’s also another wildfire a few miles from my house too. But unlike my grandma and aunts, I don’t have hundreds of hectares of woods around my house, so I worry more with their safety than mine.

Last time the area near my grandma’s burned I was 3/4 years old, yet I still remember it. It was terrifying, I was there. Because I know what’s at stake now, I’m even more scared now. Guess I won’t be sleeping much tonight...

ANYWAY ENOUGH RANTING, LET’S SKIP TO THE FIC!!

I hope you like it at least a bit. :) Oh, and before I forget, I want to thank all the support, love and sweet messages I’ve received in the past month or so. I love you all!

Altair wasn't much into having apprentices under his watch. He didn't mind supervising a couple of sparring sessions, but being responsible over one, as a mentor, wasn't all that appealing to him. Yet there he was, one Novice from the latest batch of newcomers, begging him to train him. Altair refused countless times. He'd seen the Novice train with the others, and he saw a clear lack of skill and potential, something he pointed out to the Novice one of the times he came to him.

Soon he noticed the Notice become more determined whenever he saw Altair watching him train, and the begging became less frequent. Over time Altair saw improvement in their skills, to the point where the Novice became better than some who did have a mentor. Out of curiosity, Altair wondered how good they could become under tutelage, and decided to give the young Novice a chance.

Altair soon noticed he was different. The novice didn't have a strong body like most Assassins, but he was fast, agile, and incredibly clever. What he lacked in strength, he compensated in everything else. He also showed a certain level of innocence and kindness that most Assassins learned to drop along their lives. Yet his remained throughout the training, along with his never faltering determination.

The training was relentless. Altair didn't make it easy, and the Novice didn't mind, taking everything thrown at him like a champion. Soon he started following Altair on missions, performance always spot on. Altair leaned to respect his apprentice and much as they respected him, and even started having a certain level of friendship, weak, but present.

Training got harder and harder, and Altair soon noticed there were some things his apprentice couldn’t improve on. Like sword fighting. It seemed like he couldn't raise a sword and good as the others. In fact, he could do better when it came to tasks requiring body strength.

"Maybe my body wasn't built for strength, but instead for speed." He had told Altair one time. Altair couldn't agree more, but it still worried him. He couldn't help but think of his apprentice as frail, in comparison to other assassins.

Finally, after almost a year, the apprentice went on his first solo mission. Altair watched the apprentice leave Masyaf, worries swimming in his brain, even though he knew he had trained him good. He was incredibly relieved when the apprentice returned unharmed, and really proud that he had been successful.

Altair didn't notice his feelings changing towards the apprentice, ignoring the worry he felt towards him or the sometimes-fleeting wish to protect him from everything. He only realized something was wrong when he woke up one night, sweating, with a tent in the sheets and not so innocent images of his apprentice on him mind.

On the next day he told the apprentice his training with him was over, and he could do the rest by himself, much to the apprentice's dismay and confusion. They didn't talk for a while.

Next time they "talked" was when Altair returned to Masyaf after the failed mission in Jerusalem. The younger assassin asked him what happened and if he was okay, but Altair just ignored them, in part ashamed he was a Novice once more, and left Masyaf to clean his list of targets.

When, later, Altair learned of Al-Mualin's true intentions, Altair hurried back to Masyaf to face his Master, thoughts of the young assassin in his mind. Al-Mualin could easily hurt him if he wanted. Altair was relieved to find them safe and sound, as part of the group of assassins Malik gathered. But he didn't stay with Malik and the others distracting the brainwashed assassins. Instead, he followed Altair.

"What do you think you're doing, (Male Name)?" Altair asked with a small glare at the assassin following him.

"Helping you out. I won't let you face him by yourself." He replied.

"You can't handle it."

"And you can? I'm as good as the others, even better." Altair stopped and turned towards the younger assassin.

"You're weak. You will never be as strong as the others. Now go back and help them!" Altair knew his words were harsh, but the assassin didn't falter under his ex-tutor's hard demeanor. If anything, he glared back.

"No, but I'm /faster/ and you are no longer my superior." Altair inwardly flinched. "Therefore, I'm helping you, /novice/."

Realizing he couldn't get rid of the younger assassin, Altair silently allowed them to follow.

Al-Mualin was probably the hardest foe they fought until then. He could be old, but the Apple and the decades of skill made him a powerful enemy.

The young assassin and Altair fought valiantly, striking relentlessly at Al-Mualin. Although the old man could block the attacks, he was still being pushed back. Obviously, the man's first instinct was search for a weakness and exploit it. He only found one.

Al-Mualin kicked the young assassin between his legs, but instead of crouching down in pain like the other two were expecting, they just stumbled back with a growl.

"Oh, you little...!!"

With a cry, the young assassin resumed his flurry of attacks, much to Al-Mualin and Altair's surprise, but none of them had time to think about it at the time. The battle kept going.

Once Al-Mualin was dead and the Apple was locked in a box for the meantime, Altair and the young assassin were led to the infirmary to treat their wounds. It was full at the time, many assassins were wounded, some worse than others. The two were led to separate corners and treated by their peers.

When it was over, Altair headed to where he believed the young assassin was, but instead he found an exasperated assassin and no sign of his ex-apprentice.

"He refused treatment and ran out. Said he could handle it..." The assassin gave and exasperated sigh, that Altair copied before leaving the infirmary and heading to his ex-apprentice's room.

On his way, he found himself thinking about the battle. They had fought valiantly, and (Male Name) clearly deserved to rise in the ranks. Altair suddenly remembered the kick, and started wondering. Never did he met a man that resisted a kick in the family jewels, /not one/. Yet his ex-apprentice /did/, like it was nothing. How was that possible?...

When Altair reached their room, he was about to knock when a pained scream left the room. A /loud/ scream. Altair barged in without even thinking.

He was sitting on the bed cleaning a cut of his arm with a rag, and... Where those /boobs/?!?

The two were frozen in place, trying to understand what was happening. The young assassin was the first to recover, running to pull Altair in and close the door quickly. /She/ remained glued to the door, panting heavily, with her back towards Altair, who was still in shock. Her upper body was bare, bruises and cuts decorated her skill all over. If it wasn't for her hourglass-like shape and the /breast/ he had just seen, he would think of her as another male assassin, with all the bruises, slight muscle and short hair.

"What is going to happen now?" She asked weakly, voice wavering. Altair was broken out of his trance.

"You're a woman..." He muttered, stunned.

"Yes. What will the Brotherhood do about it? Will you kill me?" Altair tried to snap out of it, find something to say. But what /could/ he say?

"That explains some things... Why... why are you here?"

"Templars were chasing me. I thought the Assassins could protect me, but I was refused at the gates. I got tired of running, so I returned to Masyaf about a month later, as a man, and joined the Brotherhood. It was that or run for eternity..." She looked at him sideways and Altair could see she was scared. Terrified, even. "I just wanted to be safe, and serve the Brotherhood in return."

"What's your name?"

"(Y-Y/n)…" She gulped. She finally turned around to him, arms wrapped around her torso to cover her breasts. She looked him in the eye, and he could clearly see that she was as scared of her fate as she was ready to endorse it. "Please, have mercy. I'll leave, and there will be no reason to shed blood."

"You're not leaving." He replied quickly. Her eyes widened in fear and he realized she had taken it the wrong way. "(Y/n)…" He almost called her by her male name, but corrected himself in time. "...You are one of the best assassins I have the pleasure of calling brother. I've trained you and saw you become an irreplaceable member of the Brotherhood. If the others wish you to leave, then they are fools unable to see your value, both as an assassin and as a person. I will make sure you continue as a member of the Assassins, even if I have to use my last breath to do so.

She cheeks were tinged pink at his small speech, yet her pose grew straighter, his praises and reassurances driving away her fears. She opened her mouth to say something, but a shiver stopped her.

"Before we continue, would you mind handling me that shirt, please? I'd like to... cover myself." Altair obeyed with a blush, throwing her the shirt on top of her bed and keeping his back to her while she got dressed. "You can turn now."

"You're still bleeding." He pointed out, quickly noticing the slowly growing red spot on her arm. "Sit on the bed. Let me help you."

She obeyed and Altair sat next to her. He pulled up her sleeve as high as possible and, grabbing the rag she had been cleaning the wound with when he arrived, resumed what she was doing before he broke in.

"I thought today couldn't be more insane, yet you prove me wrong once again." He said, after a few minutes of silence.

"When did I ever prove you wrong before?" She asked.

"When you were asking me to be your mentor. I thought you didn't have any particular skill, but then I saw you improve more than some of the other novices." She chuckled at his response.

"Ah, yes, you told me that once. I always wondered how they would react, knowing that they were beaten by a woman in many sparring sessions." He looked at her, also amused at the idea.

The sight of her made him freeze completely, the hands that were wrapping up her wound left the task unfinished. The shirt she wore was baggy and hid her slight curves, making him forget for a moment that he had just found out she was a woman hidden amongst the ranks of the Assassins. She had her lips curved into a tiny smile that he realized he had missed seeing.

"Forgive me." She looked at him, surprised.

"What for?"

"Leaving you. Dropping your training like that. You weren't just my pupil, you were also... a friend."

"About that!" Her expression turned slightly angry. It was strange seeing her angry, Altair had rarely seen that expression on her face, and usually was more frustration than anger "You own me an explanation."

He ignored her and finished wrapping up her cut, but she didn't take any of that.

"I don't care if you are or were my mentor or superior or whatever, Altair Ibn-La'Ahad, you own me an explanation."

He looked up at her again, once the wound was nicely covered. What /could/ he say?

"I started to think of you differently, so I had to step back."

"Different as in... Romantically?" She inquired slowly, fearfully even. He looked at her in surprise.

"How did you know?" It was her turn to look surprised.

"I didn't, I just... I started falling the same, at some point. So, I just, guessed it...?" She admitted, looking away. "Wait..." She looked at him again, this time with a teasing smirk. "I didn't know you leaned that way~!" He immediately understood what she was implying.

"Apparently, I /do not/, even if I wanted." His glare was as sharp as their blades, but it didn't stop her from exploding into heartfelt laughter, much to his annoyance.

"Can you stop?" She shook her head at is annoyed question.

"No! I mean, you thought I was a man, so that must mean /someth/-!"

Silence fell over the room once more, Altair's lips over hers effectively worked as a way to shut her up. She was shocked, to say the least, so she took a while to follow the flow and return the kiss. Altair himself didn't know /why/ he kissed her, but he certainly didn't regret it. Man or woman, he didn't care. It was his breaking point.

The two remained lip-locked for a few minutes, the passionate kiss turning into a make out session.

"(Male Name)! What story is that of leaving... the infirmary..."

Altair and (Y/n) jumped away from each other at the sudden intrusion. Hold and behold, Malik had just become the second assassin to break into the room. His face was frozen into horrified shock, as his eyes jumped from one assassin to the other.

The two had /a lot/ to explain to Malik and the other assassins, mostly her.

They let her live and be an assassin, but no one would let either her or Altair live down the situation.

---___---___---___---___---___---

PS: I’m really sorry for the rant in the notes, I just needed it.

#sry for crappy ending but i'm not in a good mood for writing #did my best #altair x reader #altair ibn-la'ahad #assassin's creed x reader #Assassin's Creed #x reader #reader #reader-insert #requests #requests open #fanfic

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randomguywithwords · 7 years

Text

The Monsters In Our World - A Short Story

Foreword: If anyone here is seeing this from searching up net neutrality, I can assure you this is related to the topic, I am not trying to exploit this issue for attention through tags.

Someone was here with Jake.

But that was impossible. He’d been so careful in accessing this area, he made sure not to set off any alarms, trip over any wires or get detected by the cameras.

“Damn it.” Jake fumbled for his weapon, a sharp dagger edged with a plasma lining. He heard the thing move in the shadows, the faint sound of wind that brushed against his ears.

Was it...?

No, he told himself, it couldn’t be. It can’t be.

He kept moving, darting around to check his surroundings every few seconds. He still hadn’t found what he was looking for. And he wouldn’t get out of here until he did.

Scritch.

The sound of metal against metal made little noise in the soundless room, but it was loud enough for Jake to flip his head in that direction.

Red eyes at positions taller than Jake, glaring at him in the darkness. He could faintly see a spear glinting in the red light, planted on the ground. Jake froze in place, his blood running cold.

Its guards.

Before Jake could react, he heard another droning noise, and saw another Templar facing him in the opposite direction.

He was surrounded.

Slowly, as though they were taking their time to capture Jake, they marched forward, shaking the floor.

More time for me to think.

Jake considered his options. He could run forward, but he knew Templars moved with lightning speed if they wanted to. He doubted he could evade them long enough to find the chip and escape without being skewered. Fighting was risky as well. Up till now, no one had survived fighting two Templars at the same time. Why were there two in the first place? It had always been one to one sector - why did it change its mind?

The Templars gained speed, the thundering stomps increasing in fervour and ferocity. Five more steps and he was done.

Jake unhitched a GSFG from his belt and tossed it at one Templar. When the grenade hit, it exploded outwards, a blue field expanding in size till it reached a square 10 by 10 metres. The Templar’s movements slowed dramatically, its legs inching forward. It would buy him around a minute, maximum, before the Templar would adapt to the gravity displacement.

Raising his dagger, he blocked the incoming strike from the Templar’s spear. He gritted his teeth as he felt the force travel up his arm. The ground cracked from the hit. He rolled out of the way to dodge the next swing and slashed at the Templar’s right leg. It made a decent cut, but no real damage. He would need more hits.

He panted, but the Templar didn’t give him time to rest. He saw the eyes glow orange, a warning.

Duck! His mind screamed.

He did, just as the Templar seemingly disappeared and reappeared behind him already swiping.

One, he counted. A Templar could only perform three instances of superspeed before suffering any internal damage.

Jake tried to take another shot at the leg, but the Templar anticipated this and blocked it. With his other leg, it kicked him, sending Jake flying back.

Groaning, he got up quickly and took a quick peek at the other Templar’s progress.

Alarmingly, the Templar was almost escaping. Its right foot was already at the edge of the field. He had 10 seconds, tops.

To hell with it.

Jake charged at the Templar, which responded to his challenge, beginning a sprint as well. At the last second, he dove under, using his dagger to parry the strike he predicted, and using his other hand to grab onto the Templar’s right leg. With momentum, he did a flip and kicked its back with his two feet, pushing it to the ground. He made another slash at its leg, which finally amputated it. Sparks flew from the gap, and the Templar resonated a series of alarms and whirring noises as it tried to get up.

Wasting no time, Jake held his dagger in an icepick grip and stabbed the left arm of the Templar like a nail, which caused it to drop its spear. He grabbed it and holstered it in his hand, and aiming at the now free second Templar, he threw it with all his remaining force.

It shattered through the Templar’s armour, ripping a hole straight through the machine’s chest. It gave a weak drone and keeled over, the lights in its eyes dead.

Jake collapsed, too exhausted and exhilarated at the same time, heart and breath racing. His bruised hands trembled, but his job wasn’t over yet.

He stumbled to his feet and continued searching.

And he heard applause.

Very, very, familiar applause. The same applause an audience would give. It sounded common, too common. Too overused. A copied file.

“You’ve managed to do it, I see. Defeating two of them on your own. You must be proud.” A robotic voice echoed through the small room. It was a mixture of voices, all chained together to form a sentence. One word was spoken by a man, the next one Siri, the next one a woman, and so on.

Whatever pride and sense of accomplishment Jake had turned to dread.

“So, we meet.” Jake forced out a tone of bravery.

“A pleasure.” In Glados’ voice, sending a chill up Jake’s spine.

“So, what brings you here?” It asked again.

“I’ve come to stop you.”

Sitcom laughter played.

“Stop me? You must be crazy. I cannot be stopped.”

“You’re a monster.”

“I’m not a monster, I’m just ahead of the curve.” It shrieked as it played Ledger’s laughter after that.

Still in his voice, it continued, “No, no, no. You see what I can do?”

A barrage of images appeared in front of Jake. Images, videos, showing different things, some public, some private. Some things that should never be shown to the world.

“This is not what we deserve!” Jake’s voice rose to a shout. “Privacy, equality, its a basic human right!”

“Perhaps,” It whispered, sounding right next to Jake, “but it is what has happened. I, have happened.”

“And there is no end.”

1023 words

Ok, guys this is a weird short story I thought of regarding Net Neutrality. Maybe it’s not fully accurate due to me wanting to spice up the story, but here you go nonetheless.

Here’s the thing, I’m not a US citizen, and I’m fairly sure my government isn’t doing what USA is now, so as far as I know I’m not affected, but I do want to help, so if there’s anything non-US citizens can do, please tell me. This is just my fun way of spreading awareness. I hope you guys don’t take offence. I know this is a serious issue but hopefully not too serious such that I can’t write about it.

#short story #story #fiction #future #futuristic #writing #writers on tumblr #spilled ink #spilled words #excerpt from a book I'll never write #net neutrality

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ahrorha · 7 years

Text

Flame of Winter

Chapter 13

With a sigh Solas untied his wet footwrappings, he wrinkled his nose when stinky mud fell from them to the ground. It had been a long and exhausting day. His clothes were damp and filthy after spending the whole day in the rain, roaming through what was left of old Crestwood and its caverns below. The stench of mud, rotting kelp and dead fish had followed them where ever they went in the once submerged village. The smell would linger in their clothes for several days, and for once he was glad he didn't have his long dreadlocks any longer. It would have been a pain to clean them; it had its advantages that he was now bald.

“Iiiiiieeeuww.” Sera shrieked by the campfire, followed by the deep laughter of Black Wall and Ryan, Cassandra let out one of her disagreeing growls. Groaning Solas massaged his forehead, the headache; he had nursed for days was returning. Weary he studied his companions sitting around the fire.

They had arrived at Crestwood, after days of travelling through bad weather, only to discover the land was plagued by the undead and demons. The source wasn't hard to guess, with the light of a great rift shimmering under the surface of the lake. Sadly, what started as a straightforward mission to meet Hawke and the Warden soon turned into a lengthy ordeal.

Dealing with the bandits occupying the local Keep was relatively easy. Soon they had cleaned it out and set up a new base for the Inquisition. After locating the dam controls they drained parts of the lake, revealing what was left of old Crestwood. For Solas, the real challenge began as soon as they set foot in the thick mud of the lake bottom. To his delight, they encountered spirits wandering around like they once used to. The rift under the lake appeared to be big enough for them to pass through without suffering its corrupting forces. Fascinated Solas stepped forward before he was blocked by Ryan, Cassandra and Blackwall, who had drawn their weapons.

“That will not be necessary!” Solas quickly intervened. “They will do us no harm unless we provoke them. It is fortunate that they were not corrupted by the forces of the rift.”

Sera let out a small shriek behind him when the spirit faded out of focus for a moment and disappeared. “Where did it go? Piss! They should just bugger off into your stupid Fade thing.”

“You think that they are fortunate?” Ryan huffed. “You spent to much time with them. They shouldn't be here; they don't belong here.”

“Spirits are as much part of this world than any other creature.” Solas tried to explain patiently.

“They failed the Maker. He created the Veil to separate us from them. To keep us safe.”

'So I am your Maker.' Solas thought, but swallowed his remark and followed the others into what was left of the once sunken village. By the time they reached the rift Solas mood had darkened. Navigating the dark, damp tunnels under the lake with a skittish Sera, yelling and cursing whenever a spirit appeared, and a nervous Ryan, who decided to quote Chantry phrases to protect them, had worn him down. Luckily he somehow managed to prevent any killing or harm to an innocent spirit.

Sitting in front of his tent Solas let out a sigh; tomorrow would bring another long day. Having had enough of his companions, he decided to retire. Hanging his coat out to dry, he heard a slap, followed by Sera's colourful cussing. At least he would have one satisfaction today he thought. He had warded his tent against the numerous mosquitoes the lake produced. He hadn't offered the others the same kind of protection. Hearing another slap, he slipped into his tent with a satisfying smirk.

Lying down Solas wondered, not for the first time, how different his day would have been if Eirlana had been here. He could just imagine her delight at meeting spirits outside of the Fade. He missed her, more than he thought was possible. He longed for her presence, the conversations, her smile. Turning to his side his hand wandered to the empty space next to him. Staring at his hand, he let out another sigh; he also missed her physically, her warmth, her soft touches. Annoyed he balled his hand into a fist. This craving he felt for one single person was new to him, and it worried him. Even with his partners in the past, his mind had always wandered, drifting away, plotting, planning, scheming. Now it was the other way around. His thoughts were pulled towards her, wondering about her reaction, her thoughts, her expression. He pulled his hand back grumbling in frustration. He was acting like some lovestruck teenager. Angry with himself he dove into the Fade, seeking out his friends. They would help him to focus, their mindsets not cluttered by worldly distractions.

The setting sun turned the gathering clouds in a dark crimson red. It would start to snow soon. Eirlana hurried towards the library before she went to bed. Hugging her book, she wondered how Solas and the others were doing. It had already been a week since they had left Skyhold. Stepping onto the balcony above the great hall, she saw Vivienne lounging in one of her decadent chairs reading a letter. A messenger waited next to her. She noticed Eirlana as she came closer, giving her a calculating look.

Eirlana didn't know what to think of her. Even though Vivienne was here to help, her air of superiority and decadence was making her anxious. It reminded her too much of her old master.

Dismissing the messenger, Vivienne smiled politely at her. “My dear. I was just thinking about you. Please take a seat.” she gestured towards the chair across of her.

Reluctantly Eirlana sat down feeling uneasy under Viviennes assessing stare.

“I apologise, we haven't had earlier a chance to converse. Tell me how are you adapting? I can only imagine it must be quite a change after that awful time you spent in Tevinter.”

Eirlana didn't know what to say. It confused her that most people only focused on her time spent in Tevinter. Almost no one spoke to her about what she had suffered at the hands of the rogue templar and his companions. What they did to her during the months she was their prisoner was far worse than anything she had endured in Tevinter.

“Some things are still new to me.” she answered politely. “It is sometimes difficult, but I am getting used to it.” Nervous she started to bite her lip. She didn't like the topic Vivienne wanted to discus.

“I must say I was surprised when I heard of your background. Tell me, my dear, did you get any form of teaching in Tevinter?”

Eirlana shook her head.

Vivienne narrowed her eyes, studying her. “May I ask how did you gain your skills in healing-magic?”

“I... I just feel what to do.” Eirlana answered carefully, in part that was the basis of her skills. What she had learned from the spirits was to use the energies of the Fade freely. To feel the magic and follow it's flow, rather then force it into a shape. In truth, if it weren't for the Veil she would have a much easier time to practise her magic here.

“To achieve what you do without any form of supervision is impressive. It seems you are gifted with natural skills. Tell me have you ever wondered how much you could grow with a formal education?”

Eirlana knew she meant hers and the circle's teachings. “I am still learning and Solas helps me a lot.”

“Yes, I imagine he has done a fair enough job so far, but wouldn't it be better to seek out additional people with knowledge. It would be a waste of your talents not to seek out the proper guidance.”

The tone of the conversation was slowly shifting less friendly.

“I am happy with how things are at the moment.”

“Then tell me what is your opinion on the dangers of the Fade.”

On her guard, Eirlana asked. “The dangers of the Fade, what do you mean?”

“You must know that spirits are dangerous and full of temptation and malice.”

“I find the Fade not more dangerous than the waking world. It has its own occupants, its own rules to follow, just like this one.”

“And you know these rules? Then you are aware spirits cannot be trusted. They are vicious creatures seeking out any form of weakness. They exploit any chance they can get. You would do well if you acknowledge this and strengthen your defences.”

“I have learned to defend myself at a young age.”

“How often I have heard those words from young mages. Never underestimate them, demons are dangerous, they are a destructive force praying on any mage.”

“Demons are powerful and cunning; it is their desire to seek a path to our world. It is tragic when they take over a host, but it also part of their nature. They are predators, if you enter their territory you risk being eaten.”

“I see why you get along so splendidly, with our resident Fade expert. Do tell me what is your brilliant plan if you encounter one.”

“Don't be prey.”

“Tsssssss.” Vivienne hissed. It was obvious she was displeased with her answers.

“Thank you for your concern. Have a good evening.” Eirlana stood up and left.

A little irritated Eirlana went into the library. Ignoring the stationed templar, she walked hastily to the shelves the furthest away from him. Walking along the railing, her eyes wandered to Solas' empty desk below her. She missed him.

“He will be back you know.” Dorian sat in a comfortable chair in a corner of the library, a book in one hand and swirling a glass of brandy in the other.

“I know.” she gave him a small smile.

“You miss him don't you?”

Eirlana nodded and began to put her book back and started to look for a new one.

“The choice of good reading material is somewhat limited I am afraid.” Dorian stood up and took a book from the shelve, filled with poetry. “I can recommend this one.”

“Thank you.”

A sister walked past them, giving Dorian a dark look before she walked hastily away. Outside wet snow began to whip against the window.

“Just great. Cold, wet, distrusting ungrateful dogpeople.” Dorian started to mutter to himself. “Why did I even bother to come here?”

“Why did you come?” Eirlana asked, curious about his motives.

Dorian regarded her for a moment. “You may find this strange, but I care for my homeland. It may be hard to understand for you southerners.”

She bit her lip looking down at her feet. “I... I am not from the south.”

“Of course you wouldn't....” Dorian broke off his sentence. “You are not? Then where...?”

“Ego hic servire. Dominus.” she whispered, looking hesitant at him.

For a moment Dorian stared at her, shocked. “Oh.”

“I lived in Tevinter almost my whole life.”

“Then you were a...?”

Eirlana nodded looking at her feet again. It was somewhat different to admit she had been a slave to one who knew how Tevinter was really like.

Slightly uncomfortable Dorian searched for the right words. “I am sorry. I am aware of the treatment elves can get in my homeland. Know we of the Pavus family have always treated our slaves decent. I know some of my countrymen are power-hungry madmen. That's why I'm here. To stop history from repeating itself.”

She felled relieved Dorian sounded sincere. “That's why we all are here.”

They fell silent, both not knowing what to say.

“Thank you for the book. I will read it.” Eirlana broke the awkward moment.

“Yes, maybe we can discuss it after you have finished it.” he smiled at her.

“I would like that.” she returned the smile. “Have a good night.”

The grove was peaceful and quiet. A spring splashed calmly into the dark deep waters of the pond. It was surrounded by lush green ferns and boulders covered with thick mosses. Solas sat on a small bank staring at the water, the serenity of the Fade felt like a soothing balm after the stressful day.

“Your mind is drifting.”

Solas blinked as he heard the voice of Wisdom next to him. His thoughts had wandered off while listening to her. “I am sorry, friend.”

“Don't be. It gladdens me.”

“Why?” he asked her.

“Your mind is anchored in the present, not longer drifting solely to what once was.” Wisdom waved over the pool, conjuring Eirlana's face in the water. “She is in your thoughts.”

Solas had to swallow. “A small diversion, nothing more.” He knew his growing attachment was making an already difficult situation more complicated. It was a danger to him and his task.

“Why do you lie to yourself?”

He had to smirk, Eirlana was really becoming his weakness if his lies were getting this obvious.

“Why?”

Puzzled, Solas looked at his old friend. “Why what?”

“Why is she a weakness? Fighting for others has always made you stronger in the past.”

Solas doubted it was fighting for others that had made him strong. Determination, purpose and self-interest had always been his strengths. Heroism and self-sacrifice was never a part of him. He had always acted on his own wishes and desires, plotted and schemed to better himself, to show his strength and defeat his enemies. He did what he thought was right. Even after he decided to oppose the other Evanuris, he had been cocky, confident in his superiority, a show off. Too late he recognised the dangers of his actions. In the end, his hand was forced and many had suffered the consequences, including the Fade and its occupants. Many of his close friends in the Fade had ceased to exist.

With a heavy heart, he turned to Wisdom.

“What of the other spirits? Please tell me old friend. What do you see?”

“Spirits, separated from the waking world thousands of years. Like the waking people, we have forgotten how it once was. Being apart for ages, we don't remember the harmony our worlds were once in. We feel the wall weakening, falling apart. We are getting restless, pressing against it, curious, almost touching. Our longing draws us closer, yet we are unable to reach, to understand. Others grow angry, seeing the other side as a danger. They want to protect, to preserve. We are as the waking people, unable to grasp that what is unavoidable.”

It pained Solas to hear what he already knew. What he had done to the realm he loved. “There was no other choice.” his voice was loaded with grief, the burden he carried, the countless lives he altered.

Wisdom placed a hand on his shoulder. “Some things once set in motion are unstoppable like the passing of time. The Veil is slowly dissolving, whether for good or worse it has to be seen. Some choices once made can never be changed. You made your choice long ago, and you have to live with its consequences.” She slowly stood up and drifted away, leaving Solas to think. Before she disappeared, she turned around. “Do you know the beauty of choices?”

Feeling miserable Solas looked at her. “No.”

“You can always make new ones.”

After Wisdom had left him, Solas began to wander the Fade, brooding about her words. He paid no attention where he went until he suddenly heard child-laughter. Looking up, he saw Eirlana. It hadn't been his intention to intrude in her dreams. He knew he should leave before she would notice him, but he couldn't bring himself to it.

Eirlana stood at the side of a small room, several wisps floating around her. The room was scarcely furnished, and everything looked shabby and poor. A rough wooden table with two chairs stood in the centre, in the corner was one bed with coarse blankets, a few shelves at the wall held chipped and cracked kitchenware and some folded clothes.

A skinny woman stood at the sink preparing something. Solas couldn't make out her face for her head wasn't formed, but her hunched back, patched clothing and rough bony hands told of a life of hard labour. She looked worn even without a face. The child-laughter came closer, and a small elven boy ran into the room. He was thin and poorly clad, but he looked lively with his bronze skin, rosy cheeks and short dark brown curls. He looked like he was three or four years old. Behind him entered a young skimpy elven girl. She looked a little older, maybe six years old, and had auburn hair in big unruly curls. Her skin was rich bronze, and her big brown eyes shone full of life. Her bare feet were dirty from dust, and she wore a simple dress, patched and repaired in countless places.

Laughing and shrieking in joy, they chased each other around the table, until the boy started to wheeze and cough. He fell and started to cry. The woman turned around and, judging by her body language, spoke harshly to the children.

The whole scene did last only for a few seconds when it froze, and Eirlana turned around. “Solas?”

Solas walked closer. “Vhenan. I apologise, I didn't mean to intrude.”

One of the wisps started to hum and hovered in between them, shining brightly. She laughed at it. “No, it's alright. Go along now.” It swirled around her once before drifting away with the others.

Solas looked at her curious, raising an eyebrow.

Smiling, Eirlana stepped closer to him. “He wanted to know if he should zap you.”

“Zap me?”

“Yes, sorry. They are a little protective sometimes.”

“You can understand wisps?” He could hardly believe it. Wisps were the faintest of spirits, not able to absorb much of their surroundings. They were curious creatures but often misunderstood. If they weren't summoned and bound by magic, peaceful encounters with them were rare. They often lashed out when they felt threatened and as far as he knew they weren't able to communicate.

“It's not like I really understand them, it's more like...” She pondered for a while. “It is hard to describe, it's like I can feel their intent, their thoughts.”

Not for the first time Solas was in awe of her abilities. He had always thought himself an expert of the Fade and its spirits. Even back in Arlathan not many others could match his vast knowledge about the realm. Without it, it would have been impossible for him to create the Veil. Know he realised his knowledge had its own limitations. He had studied and learned to use the Fade, to shape it and draw from its unlimited power and possibilities. Hearing Eirlana describe her interaction, she understood the Fade on another level. She had been thought by the Fade itself, learned its workings directly from the spirits themselves. Her excessive exposure from a young age made her interpretations and instincts a second nature. It was more pure and in a way better then his, not burdened by generations of theories and teachings thought by other magic users.

Eirlana looked excited at him. “You really are a dreamer, like the dreamers of the past. To be able to visit me here in my own dreams.”

“I learned through the knowledge shared by spirits and by seeking out different memories, the ability to slip into someone's dream.” The lies and half-truths rolled smoothly of Solas' tongue. It was second nature to him. “I must admit that in comparison with the true dreamers of Arlathan, my own skills are a mere shadow of the powers they must have wielded.” It stung he had to lie to her, deep down he wished he could tell her the truth. To tell her that she was right, but he couldn't risk it. Too much was at stake. Not wanting to linger on the subject, he focussed back at the dream behind her. “Who are they?”

Eirlana turned back to the room behind her. “That is my little brother and me, and what faint memories I have left of my mother.”

Solas could almost feel the sadness and the hurt in her voice. Seeing the child, he could hardly believe they were the same person. They looked so different with the darker skin, auburn hair, little freckles around the nose and those radiant brown eyes. “This is you?”

“It is hard to believe isn't it.” she smiled sadly. “The lyrium, experiments and rituals did more than just erase my memories. They changed me.”

The memory began to move again. The little girl sat down in front of the coughing and crying boy; small colourful butterfly-like lights sprang from her fingertips. The boy was calming down and started to smile and laugh again, trying to grab the lights with his tiny hands. There was a crash of a pan, food spilt to the ground as the mother stood in shock.”

“That was one of my first spells I ever cast in the open.” Eirlana's voice sounded detached as she summoned the same butterflies in her hand. “I loved my brother dearly. He was very sick.”

For a while, she felt silent staring at the frozen dream. The butterflies slowly disappeared.

“I just wanted to make him happy.” She whispered. She swallowed hard before she could continue. “As far as I can remember my mother brought me in front of the Laetan, a magic user not attached to any great family, the next day and sold me.”

“She sold you?”

“We were poor. With my brother sick it was the only way for my mother to get any money. Not that there was any other choice, my magic would have been found out sooner or later. Better she could profit from it before I was stolen away by her master. Not that I understood it at that time, I was still a child. All I knew my mother abandoned me and left me at the mercy of a strange man.” Eirlana shivered slightly and wrapped her arms around herself protectively. Solas stepped behind her, wrapping her in his arms, holding her.

“I don't even know if they are still alive or if selling me helped them at all.”

He held her tighter against him. “I am so sorry.” he whispered.

“I am not even sure if this is an accurate memory or something I have made up over the years.” Eirlana could feel tears burning in her eyes. Closing them she leaned against Solas, resting her head on his shoulder. His presence calmed her down. “I miss you.” she whispered

Feeling his own emotions stir Solas squeezed his eyes shut. “I miss you also.” he admitted.

His voice sounded strained. Eirlana turned around in his arms studying his face. “You look tired.”

“I am.” he sighed. “It has been a long day. We encountered spirits in the waking world; they had drifted through a large tear.”

“Really. What did they say? How did they find our world? The Veil must have been very thin or damaged for them to remain their form for so long.”

Solas saw her eyes sparkle with excitement, he had been right. His day would have been very different with her at his side.

The tent was warm when Solas woke up. Half expecting to see Eirlana, lying next to him curled up in her blanket, he opened his eyes. Of course, he was alone, and he cursed himself when he felt the disappointment and the longing. He hadn't meant to seek her out, but unconsciously his mind had drawn him into her dream. Their lives were intertwining more and more with every step he took. It was dangerous for both of them. As Wisdom had pointed out, he made his choice long ago, and there was no turning back. His path was set, and yet the thought that he had to leave her in the future made his heart ache.

During the day Solas' mood darkened even more after they found Venatori at an ancient elven grove. The documents they carried indicated that they were searching the ruins for something. It confirmed what his agents already told him, that there was an increased interest in old elven locations. Once more others tried to steal and enrich themselves from what was left of the bones of the People. It worried Solas, for he knew what could have survived until this age, and it was nothing that should fall into the wrong hands. He needed to contact his agents tonight, to hasten the recovery of specific objects.

When they finally reached the cave to meet up with Hawke, Solas was surprised to see the Warden Hawke spoke of was Loghain. He had seen him in memories of the Fade. How he fought for Fereldan, a Hero, only to be disgraced by a decision he made at Ostagar. One decision had doomed this person's name forever. It was ironic Solas thought, just as himself, history would remember him a traitor. His noble deeds overshadowed and forgotten.

Solas kept to himself, listening quietly as they discussed the Grey Wardens. It wasn't a surprise, his companions were appalled that his noble group of protectors had fallen under Corypheus corruption, like the templars before them. As if the Wardens hadn't already been corrupted for centuries.

The discussion about the calling, however, peaked his interest. The song that every blighted creature heard including the Wardens had somehow been triggered by Corypheus. They hadn't had any reports of increased darkspawn activity anywhere so this calling was explicitly triggered within the Wardens only, which upon itself was fascinating.

Solas glanced at the reports Loghain had gathered and was surprised by their meagre contents. It was incomprehensible that the Wardens, who should have frontier knowledge about the blight and the calling, seemed rather ignorant about the subject. Instead, they believed most of the Chantry's teachings, that it was divine punishment that created the first of the darkspawn. Teachings that were flawed and drenched with falsehoods. This lack of information would only heighten the fear and anxiety in the affected Wardens. If they would really try to attempt a blood ritual as Loghain feared, they would quickly fall prey to whatever they summoned.

After they left Hawke and Loghain, the others discussed the situation with the Wardens and the calling further. Solas kept to himself, not that any of his companions did seem to mind. That the Wardens were compromised was another problem they had to face. Somehow he could respect the resourcefulness of Corypheus for having infiltrated yet another major organisation of Thedas. By triggering the calling, he had the Wardens in a panic and could be easily manipulated. Solas couldn't comprehend that the Wardens after five Blights and thousands of years still believed that the Blight was a form of divine punishment. It was ludicrous. It was the easy way out to explain something that was far more complex.

With creating the Veil he had done far more than imprisoning his brethren, he had cut off any form of free travel between two realms. He had confined the spirits to the Fade, he had trapped them. The more powerful demons among them would have sought other ways into this world. They reached out to the humans and anyone who would listen, whispering dark secrets and promises of great power. It didn't take long before the first eager servants appeared to please their new masters, performing rituals and sacrifices to strengthen them.

Solas wasn't too sure what exactly had happened when the Veil was ripped open by powerful magic. At that time he was still deep in uthenera, weak from spending almost all of his power. The Chantry's version was in part correct, the magisters attempted to breach the Veil and entered the Fade physically. In their attempt, they most likely came in contact with one of the powerful Void barriers he had created to imprison the Evanuris. When the magisters returned, they brought the maddening darkening plague of the Void with them, the Blight.

More mysterious was the connection between the Blight and the Archdemons. That they were old gods was laughable, Solas had never found any trace of a god. The answer was far more simple, they look like dragons, so they are dragons, powerful Ancient dragons from his time. Like the Elvhen, the dragons of old had a deep connection with the Fade, and like the Elvhen they had fallen victim by his actions. Cut off from their source of power some of them would have fallen into a deep hibernation. What he didn't know was how the dragons were affected by the Blight. It could be possible that the first Archdemon was awakened by the brief reconnection with the Fade and fallen prey to the infective nature of the Void. Unlike the dragons from this age, they were far more powerful and intelligent. The description of the calling and the song blighted creatures heard sounded like the connection the Ancient dragons used to communicate with their brood and offspring. It was possible the blighted creatures sought out the hibernated dragons for guidance and focus. The infected dragons, in turn, would use the power of the blight to reclaim the territories they once controlled.

That the dragons were rising again in this era, was another indication the Veil was weakening. It was a strong possibility that more and more powerful dragons would emerge, and Solas could only hope that they wouldn't be infected. The increase in activity amongst the dragon kind was already felt throughout Thedas. Even in the few places they had visited they had seen these majestic beasts and their brood. The world was trying to regain the balance he had destroyed, and he had to prepare for the chaos that came with it.

“Solas! You're falling behind.” Cassandra called out to him.

“It's the Veil, it is Veil-y here or something.” Sera had to laugh hard at her own joke.

Solas hastened towards the others. “Apologies, Seeker.”

Icy snow blew cold and wet in their faces as they rode up the mountains towards Skyhold. It didn't take long before they were drenched and chilled to the bone. Not wanting to set up another camp Ryan decided not to rest, but ride into the night to reach the fortress. Solas didn't complain, after days on the road he wanted nothing more than to get some rest. Rest from Ryan's short-sighted and docile views of the Chantry and escape from the mindless banter and ridicule of Sera and Blackwall. Ignoring the cold, he steered his horse to follow the rest.

It was way past midnight when they finally rode across the drawbridge. Not lingering Solas shouldered his pack and walked silently through the great hall and up the stairs. It was deserted except for ambassador Josephine and a guest. On the balcony, he paused for a moment when he heard Ryan loudly welcoming the guest. Solas' mood didn't improve when he heard Josephine introduced the guest as a templar and a teacher. Of course, it would be a templar, he thought, what better path to walk for the blessed hero of Andraste. Moody, he marched to his quarters and briskly opened the door.

“Solas!” Surprised Eirlana jumped off her bed. “I didn't expect you would return today.” she quickly took a towel and placed it over his head, brushing off some of the wet sticky snow.

“Welcome back.” she smiled.

Solas stood frozen in his tracks, somewhere during the miserable journey back to Skyhold he had forgotten he had to face her again. Exhausted as he was, he hadn't prepared himself to see her. Eirlana bustled around him, closing the door, taking his pack and coat. She was wearing only a nightgown and a loose overcoat, she had let her hair down, brushed out in shiny waves.

A little stunned Solas looked around their shared room, a lot had changed in the weeks he was gone. Where once stood a single broken chair and field bed the room was now fully furnished. Two beds had been brought in, one in the right corner of the room, one at the far end. Clothing chests stood at the foot ends. To his left and right two small tables and a few bookshelves had been placed against the wall. One was mostly empty, the other was littered with scrolls, papers and books. He recognised several sketches and descriptions of healing herbs as well as formulas of different draughts and tonics. Above the table hung several herbs drying, spreading a pleasant aroma. Several rugs lay on the stone floor.

“I see, you have made some changes.” he smiled lightly and started to remove his drenched clothes. On, what he assumed was his bed, lay several neat piles of folded clothes, as well as a couple of books. He let out a deep and long sigh, before changing into the first shirt and loose leggings he saw.

“If there is something you don't like, we can change it.” Eirlana put a cup of warm spiced wine, she had made earlier, in Solas' hands and directed him towards the other bed. He sat down on the cushions and furs. Eirlana could see how tired he was and didn't press him for further details of his journey. Relieved he was back, she hopped on the bed next to him, covering them both with a big blanket.

Solas closed his eyes for a moment, the warmth of the fire and the wine slowly entering his body. Eirlana was cosying herself against him, he could feel her body soft and warm against him. He took a long deep breath and smelled her scent, a mixture of herbs, magic, flowers and a hint of vanilla soap. The tension he was in slipped away, and he relaxed. It was as if he had come home, something he hadn't felt in a very long time.

With heavy lid eyes, Solas gazed at Eirlana nestled against him, a book in her lap. Setting his cup aside he lay an arm around her. “Thank you.” he kissed her head. “The room looks perfect.” Snuggling more against her, he scanned the page of the book. “What are you reading?”

“Songs of Life. It is a collection of poems not influenced by the Chantry.”

“Sounds forbidden.” he moved his head closer and whispered in her ear. “Read to me.”

She glanced at him briefly, a light blush formed on her cheeks as she began.

“Hold fast to dreams

For if dreams die

Life is a broken-winged bird

That cannot fly.

Hold fast to dreams

For when dreams go

Life is a barren field

Frozen with snow.

Watch the world narrow,

To a field of white,

Nothing to be seen,

But the snow's grip tight,

The colours Fades,

To bleak grey shades,

And the white, white glow,

Of a field of snow.”

Eirlana's voice was soft and bright, sometimes stumbling over the words. Solas relaxed, even more, the warmth and wine taking effect. Gently he buried his nose in her hair, brushing the tip against her ear shell. He felt her shivering from the sensation, and her blush returned in a darker shade. He would never tire of making her blush. “Read another one.” he asked while carefully brushing her hair aside. She didn't wear her choker, and he could see the healed burn-marks usually concealed. With care, he brushed his lips against her ear downward along her now exposed slender neck. Eirlana's breath hitched while she read, tilting her head to the side. Feeling her pleasure, Solas started to kiss and nip her delicate skin more intensely. His hand slipped into her hair, kneading it, his fingers massaging her head. His other arm embraced her waist, pressing their bodies closer together. The soft gasps she made were music to his ears as he continued his journey downward. He stopped and lingered at the sensitive spot at the junction to her collarbone, when he heard her hum in pleasure. He intensified his attention there, placing wet kisses, tracing the curved groove slowly with his tongue and lightly biting into her neck.

Solas surrendered himself, drowning in the feeling of her heating skin against his lips, getting drunk from her scent, her sweet gasps. All his dark thoughts, his frustrations and troubles vanished from his mind. There was only he and her, nothing else seemed important. He was indulging in his growing love for her. His lips wandered back up again, higher and higher. Leaving a tingling wet trail.

“How do you do that?” he whispered, his breath hot against her ear.

Eirlana tried to turn her head towards him. “Do what?” she asked breathlessly.

“Let me feel this way.” his lips nibbling at her sensitive ear tip.

Flustered Eirlana moved her head away, deeply blushing. Her whole body was shivering with every movement Solas made. Goosebumps were spreading everywhere, and she could feel her pulse hammering. The kisses he gave were burning hot and left her skin tingling, wanting more. With every trace of his tongue, her stomach was doing somersaults. Her senses were flooded with his presence, his intimacy. Out of breath, she turned towards him.

Solas seized the moment and captured her lips, moving his body against hers. Almost natural their lips parted, their tongues entwined and they inhaled each other's breaths. Slowly Solas pressed his body against her, tipping her back. His hands began wandering, slipping out of her silky hair, brushing her ears, down her neck and arms. Parting from her lips, he left a trail of wet kisses down her jaw and neck.

Lying on her back, Eirlana felt herself overpowered by the sensation of his loving touch. Hesitantly she reached out to him and flinched slightly when her fingers touched his bare chest. Earlier Solas hadn't bothered to close his shirt neatly, and it had fallen open. She could hear him taking a groaning breath when she touched him before he resumed kissing and nipping her neck more intensely. Slowly moving his tongue against her sensitive spots, forcing a gasp from her lips. Overwhelmed she curled her fingers, lightly scraping over his chests.

Solas moaned, his skin tingling, revelling in the sensation of her touch. He couldn't get enough of her, her warmth, her taste, her soft gasps. Guided by instinct and experience his hands wandered lower, tracing her ribs, stroking her waist.

Eirlana felt confused, things were moving too fast. She didn't know what she should do or how to react. Slowly her anxiety was growing, pushing away the pleasantness of Solas' touch. She felt his body moving, pressing even more against her, trapping her body partially under him. She froze when his hand had wandered down to her thigh and she felt him hardening against her leg.

NO! Stop! NO! Her brain screamed, but her voice didn't react. Flashes of the past invaded her, hands grabbing, hurting, taking. Stinking breaths, groans of pleasure that were not hers. Pain, helplessness, filth, shame. NO! Not longer.

Panicking Eirlana pushed, kicked and shoved him away from her. “NO!”

Solas immediately jumped back, letting go of her. Shocked by the sudden change, he watched her scrabbling away from him until her back hit the wall. Her eyes were big with fear, she was terrified, panting heavily. She cowered together, hugging her knees, burying her face against them. Her hair fell like a curtain around her, concealing her shivering body.

Solas wanted to punch himself, he had gone too far. Not thinking, he had sought out his pleasure like some horny youngster, not paying attention to her needs. He had been too forceful and had pushed her over the edge, violating her vulnerable spirit. Guilt-stricken he carefully moved next to her.

Eirlana could feel him move closer. She felt guilty that she had ruined a special moment. Not looking at him she let out a broken. “I am sorry.”

Choked up Solas gently brushed her hair to the side. “You have nothing to be sorry for vhenan.” there was a slight tremor in his voice. “I shouldn't have pushed you. I am sorry.”

She sniffed, raising her head slowly. Her lips were trembling “Sorry, I know... I know you are not them.” Tears escaped her eyes, rolling down her face.

Solas could feel his heart break. His stomach twisted in anger, he could only imagine the horrors she had endured. He felt powerless and useless. He wished he could help her, heal her, but nothing he could do or say would take her pain away. Filled with sorrow and defeat, he pulled her gently into his arms, hugging her lightly. The only thing he could do was to be there for her.

Slowly Eirlana felt herself calming down. She knew she was safe, safe in Solas' arms. She hated it that her fears had taken over again, it was her fault that she reacted this way, she was to blame. Physical contact was part of being in a relation, it was only natural that Solas would seek it out. Swallowing down her dread she looked hesitantly up, meeting his eyes.

“I.... I will try. I understand you want to...”

Before she could speak any further, he had his fingers pressed against her lips, silencing her. Horror filled his eyes, as he understood what she wanted to say. “Vhenan! Don't.”

She stared at him. With care he moved his fingers to her cheek, stroking it.

“Please don't.” he spoke softly. “It has to be right for both of us. I am sorry I was acting impulsively, please forgive me.” He kissed her forehead, smiling at her with warmth and love. “You already give me so much. I could wish for nothing more, you are perfect just the way you are.”

They embraced each other. Solas could feel Eirlana shuddering in relief. “Thank you.” she whispered. He felt ashamed, he had spent his days in Crestwood thinking only about himself, his feelings, his burden, her impact on his life. It was selfish of him, he hadn't spared a thought for her feelings, her struggles, her trauma, her vulnerability. He buried his face in her hair, holding her. “I am sorry.”

She let his warmth wash over her. She was safe. It was okay. Relieved she sighed. “I missed you.”

He pressed a kiss on her head. “Me too.”

She looked up at him grinning. “You missed yourself?”

Solas had to laugh, relieved she hadn't lost her spark. “Yes, very.”

The fire had died down. Only the glimmering coals and a single candle spread light through the room. Solas lay silently awake, holding Eirlana against his chest in her sleep. He listened to her soft, peaceful breaths, cherishing that he had her at his side again. Carefully not to wake her he buried his nose in her hair, taking in more of her scent, her warmth. All his plans of distancing himself and controlling his emotions and impulses had been swept away as soon as he had laid eyes on her. He knew he couldn't fight it and he didn't want to fight it any longer.

As long as time would permit it, he would be by her side. Closing his eyes, he hoped that for once faith would be kind and that his curse of deception and destruction wouldn't follow her. He hoped and prayed to no one that he would be allowed to protect her. For now, he would treasure every moment spent with her as long as he lived.

Ego hic servire. Dominus. - I am here to serve. Master.be prey.”

“Tsssssss.” Vivienne hissed. It was obvious she was displeased with her answers.

“Thank you for your concern. Have a good evening.” Eirlana stood up and left.

“He will be back you know.” Dorian sat in a comfortable chair in a corner of the library, a book in one hand and swirling a glass of brandy in the other.

“I know.” she gave him a small smile.

“You miss him don't you?”

Eirlana nodded and began to put her book back and started to look for a new one.

“The choice of good reading material is somewhat limited I am afraid.” Dorian stood up and took a book from the shelve, filled with poetry. “I can recommend this one.”

“Thank you.”

A sister walked past them, giving Dorian a dark look before she walked hastily away. Outside wet snow began to whip against the window.

“Just great. Cold, wet, distrusting ungrateful dogpeople.” Dorian started to mutter to himself. “Why did I even bother to come here?”

“Why did you come?” Eirlana asked, curious about his motives.

Dorian regarded her for a moment. “You may find this strange, but I care for my homeland. It may be hard to understand for you southerners.”

She bit her lip looking down at her feet. “I... I am not from the south.”

“Of course you wouldn't....” Dorian broke off his sentence. “You are not? Then where...?”

“Ego hic servire. Dominus.” she whispered, looking hesitant at him.

For a moment Dorian stared at her, shocked. “Oh.”

“I lived in Tevinter almost my whole life.”

“Then you were a...?”

Eirlana nodded looking at her feet again. It was somewhat different to admit she had been a slave to one who knew how Tevinter was really like.

She felled relieved Dorian sounded sincere. “That's why we all are here.”

They felled silent, both not knowing what to say.

“Thank you for the book. I will read it.” Eirlana broke the awkward moment.

“Yes, maybe we can discuss it after you have finished it.” he smiled at her.

“I would like that.” she returned the smile. “Have a good night.”

“Your mind is drifting.”

Solas blinked as he heard the voice of Wisdom next to him. His thoughts had wandered off while listening to her. “I am sorry, friend.”

“Don't be. It gladdens me.”

“Why?” he asked her.

“Your mind is anchored in the present, not longer drifting solely to what once was.” Wisdom waved over the pool, conjuring Eirlana's face in the water. “She is in your thoughts.”

Solas had to swallow. “A small diversion, nothing more.” He knew his growing attachment was making an already difficult situation more complicated. It was a danger to him and his task.

“Why do you lie to yourself?”

He had to smirk Eirlana was really becoming his weakness if his lies were getting this obvious.

“Why?”

Puzzled, Solas looked at his old friend. “Why what?”

“Why is she a weakness? Fighting for others has always made you stronger in the past.”

With a heavy heart, he turned to Wisdom.

“What of the other spirits? Please tell me old friend. What do you see?”

Feeling miserable Solas looked at her. “No.”

“You can always make new ones.”

The whole scene did last only for a few seconds when it froze, and Eirlana turned around. “Solas?”

Solas walked closer. “Vhenan. I apologise, I didn't mean to intrude.”

Solas looked at her curious, raising an eyebrow.

Smiling, Eirlana stepped closer to him. “He wanted to know if he should zap you.”

“Zap me?”

“Yes, sorry. They are a little protective sometimes.”

“It's not like I really understand them, it's more like...” She pondered for a while. “It is hard to describe, it's like I can feel their intent, their thoughts.”

Eirlana looked excited at him. “You really are a dreamer, like the dreamers of the past. To be able to visit me here in my own dreams.”

Eirlana turned back to the room behind her. “That is my little brother and me, and what faint memories I have left of my mother.”

“It is hard to believe isn't it.” she smiled sadly. “The lyrium, experiments and rituals did more than just erase my memories. They changed me.”

The memory began to move again. The little girl sat down in front of the coughing and crying boy; small butterfly-like colourful lights sprang from her fingertips. The boy was calming down and started to smile and laugh again, trying to grab the lights with his tiny hands. There was a crash of a pan, food spilt to the ground as the mother stood in shock.”

“That was one of my first spells I ever cast in the open.” Eirlana's voice sounded detached as she summoned the same butterflies in her hand. “I loved my brother dearly. He was very sick.”

For a while, she felt silent staring at the frozen dream. The butterflies slowly disappeared.

“She sold you?”

“I don't even know if they are still alive or if selling me helped them at all.”

He held her tighter against him. “I am so sorry.” he whispered.

Feeling his own emotions stir Solas squeezed his eyes shut. “I miss you also.” he admitted.

His voice sounded strained. Eirlana turned around in his arms studying his face. “You look tired.”

“I am.” he sighed. “It has been a long day. We encountered spirits in the waking world; they had drifted through a large tear.”

“Really. What did they say? How did they find our world? The Veil must have been very thin or damaged for them to remain their form for so long.”

Solas saw her eyes sparkle with excitement, he had been right. His day would have been very different with her at his side.

Solas wasn't too sure what exactly had happened when the Veil was ripped open by powerful magic. At that time he was still deep in uthenera, weak from spending almost all of his power. The Chantry's version was in part correct, the magisters attempted to breach the Veil and entered the Fade physically. In their attempt, they most likely came in contact with one of the powerful Void barriers he had created to imprison the Evanuris. With their return, they brought the maddening darkening plague of the Void with them, the Blight.

With the dragons rising again in this era, was another indication the Veil was weakening. It was a strong possibility that more and more powerful dragons would emerge, and Solas could only hope that they wouldn't be infected. The increase in activity amongst the dragon kind was already felt throughout Thedas. Even in the few places they had visited they had seen these majestic beasts and their brood. The world was trying to regain the balance he had destroyed, and he had to prepare for the chaos that came with it.

“Solas! You're falling behind.” Cassandra called out to him.

“It's the Veil, it is Veil-y here or something.” Sera had to laugh hard at her own joke.

Solas hastened towards the others. “Apologies, Seeker.”

It was way past midnight when they finally rode across the drawbridge. Not lingering Solas shouldered his pack and walked silently through the great hall and up the stairs. It was deserted except for ambassador Josephine and a guest. On the balcony, he paused for a moment when he heard Ryan loudly welcoming the guest. Solas' mood didn't improve when he heard Josephine introduced the guest as a templar and a teacher. Of course, it would be a templar, what better path to walk for the blessed hero of Andraste. Moody, he marched to his quarters and briskly opened the door.

“Solas!” Surprised Eirlana jumped off her bed. “I didn't expect you would return today.” she quickly took a towel and placed it over his head, brushing off some of the wet sticky snow.

“Welcome back.” she smiled.

Solas stood frozen in his tracks, somewhere during the miserable journey back to Skyhold he had forgotten he had to face her again. He hadn't prepared himself to see her exhausted as he was. Eirlana bustled around him, closing the door, taking his pack and coat. She was wearing only a nightgown and a loose overcoat, she had let her hair down, brushed out in shiny waves.

“If there is something you don't like, we can change it.” Eirlana put a cup of warm spiced wine, she had made earlier, in Solas' hands after he had changed and directed him towards the other bed. He sat down on the cushions and furs.

Eirlana could see how tired he was and didn't press him for further details of his journey. Relieved he was back, she hopped on the bed next to him, covering them both with a big blanket.

Solas closed his eyes for a moment, with the warmth of the fire and the wine slowly entering his body. Eirlana was cosying herself against him, he could feel her body soft and warm against him. He took a long deep breath and smelled her scent, a mixture of herbs, magic, flowers and a hint of vanilla soap. The tension he was in slipped away, and he relaxed. It was as if he had come home, something he hadn't felt in a very long time.

“Songs of Life. It is a collection of poems not influenced by the Chantry.”

“Sounds forbidden.” he moved his head closer and whispered in her ear. “Read to me.”

She glanced at him briefly, a light blush formed on her cheeks as she began.

“Hold fast to dreams

For if dreams die

Life is a broken-winged bird

That cannot fly.

Hold fast to dreams

For when dreams go

Life is a barren field

Frozen with snow.

Watch the world narrow,

To a field of white,

Nothing to be seen,

But the snow's grip tight,

The colours Fades,

To bleak grey shades,

And the white, white glow,

Of a field of snow.”

“How do you do that?” he whispered, his breath hot against her ear.

Eirlana tried to turn her head towards him. “Do what?” she asked breathlessly.

“Let me feel this way.” his lips nibbling at her sensitive ear tip.

Solas seised the moment and captured her lips, moving his body against hers. Almost natural their lips parted, their tongues entwined and they inhaled each other's breaths. Slowly Solas pressed his body against her, tipping her back. His hands began wandering, slipping out of her silky hair, brushing her ears, down her neck and arms. Parting from her lips, he left a trail of wet kisses down her jaw and neck.

Panicking Eirlana pushed, kicked and shoved him away from her. “NO!”

Solas wanted to punch himself, he had gone too far. Not thinking, he had sought out his pleasure like some horny teenager, not paying attention to her needs. He had been too forceful and had pushed her over the edge, violating her vulnerable spirit. Guilt-stricken he carefully moved next to her.

Eirlana could feel him move closer. She felt guilty that she had ruined a special moment. Not looking at him she let out a broken. “I am sorry.”

Choked up Solas gently brushed her hair to the side. “You have nothing to be sorry for vhenan.” there was a slight tremor in his voice. “I shouldn't have pushed you. I am sorry.”

She sniffed, raising her head slowly. Her lips were trembling “Sorry, I know... I know you are not them.” Tears escaped her eyes, rolling down her face.

“I.... I will try. I understand you want to...”

Before she could speak any further, he had his fingers pressed against her lips, silencing her. Horror filled his eyes, as he understood what she wanted to say. “Vhenan! Don't.”

She stared at him. With care he moved his fingers to her cheek, stroking it.

She let his warmth wash over her. She was safe. It was okay. Relieved she sighed. “I missed you.”

He pressed a kiss on her head. “Me too.”

She looked up at him grinning. “You missed yourself?”

Solas had to laugh, relieved she hadn't lost her spark. “Yes, very.”

Ego hic servire. Dominus. - I am here to serve. Master.

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #dragon age solas #Solas #solas romance #solas x oc #eirlana #flame of winter #fanfic

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