#dai fanfic

[schreibschuppen]

„Da die Kaiserin Euch endlich aus dem Rampenlicht entlassen hat - darf ich Euch um diesen Tanz bitten?“

Dorians Stimme war warm, und als er sich zu ihm herum drehte, war sein Gesicht in weiches Mondlicht getaucht.

„Ich hatte gehofft, dass Ihr das fragt.“

“Wie gut, dass wenigstens einer von uns Initiative zeigt.“ Mit seinem üblichen, charmantem Lächeln, in dem nur eine winzige Spur Spott mitschwang, hielt Dorian ihm auffordernd seine Hand hin.

Alexander unterdrückte ein leises Seufzen, bevor er danach griff. Das war nicht der Dorian, auf den er gehofft hatte.

Aber etwas musste ihn verraten haben, denn Dorian musterte ihn gründlich, als er ihn zu sich heranzog. „Alles in Ordnung?“

Aus der offenen Balkontür klang leise die Musik. Dorians Tanzschritte waren elegant und ließen vergessen, dass er mit orlaisianischen Bällen kaum vertraut war.

„Es… war ein langer Abend.“

„Sagt bloß, Ihr erschlagt nicht jeden Abend im Anzug größenwahnsinnige Gräfinnen.“ Dorians Augen glitzerten.

An jedem anderen Abend hätte er sich mit Vergnügen auf das Geplänkel eingelassen, aber nicht heute. „Wenn es nur das wäre.“

Einen Moment lang herrschte Stille zwischen ihnen, dann blieb Dorian stehen. „Alexander.“ Mit einer Hand fuhr er sanft durch seine Haare, und jetzt stand echte Besorgnis in seinen Augen. Und obwohl er sich genau diese Aufmerksamkeit gewünscht hatte, wurde ihm unter dem fragenden Blick warm.

“Ich würde lieber drei Gräfinnen erschlagen, statt auch nur einen Fuß zurück in diese Schlangengrube zu setzen.” bekannte er mit einem schiefen Lächeln. “Ich  weiß nicht, wo sie ihre Messer haben, und es… es ist so unfassbar ermüdend.” Das beschrieb nicht einmal annähernd die Leere, die sich in ihm breit gemacht hatte, das unbändige Verlangen, sich in einer Ecke zusammen zu rollen und sich eine Decke über den Kopf zu ziehen. Und wie er gleichzeitig die nächste Maske, die ihn schief ansah, zu einem Klumpen Blech verformen wollte.

Und wie albern er sich dabei fühlte, das vor Dorian zuzugeben, dem Mann, der mit jeder Person um ihn herum mehr aufzublühen schien.

Dorians Finger waren warm, als er zwei Finger unter sein Kinn legte. Einen Moment lang sah er aus, als wolle er etwas sagen, aber dann küsste er ihn. Zart und leicht und so flüchtig, dass Alexander unwillkürlich einen Schritt auf ihn zu machte, als er sich von ihm löste.“Ihr müsst auf andere Gedanken kommen.” Seine Hand fand seine  Hüfte, und im nächsten Moment tanzten sie wieder. Die Musikanten im Ballsaal spielten jetzt ein langsames Stück. Das Licht der Laternen, die im Garten unter ihnen entzündet worden waren, spiegelte sich in Dorians Augen. “Für den Rest des Abends gehört Ihr mir, Lord Inquisitor.” Aber sein Lächeln war warm, frei von Spott. “Und wer weiß, vielleicht schmuggel ich Euch direkt unter ihren feinen Nasen hier raus”

#dragon age #dai #dragon age inquisition #schreiben #drabble #wip #fanfic #dai fanfic #dorian pavus #dorian x inquisitor

[rock-teh-elf]

Bull side profile my lov

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #dai #dragon age 2 #da2 #dragon age origins #dao #dragon age fanart #dai fanfic #iron bull dai #iron bull #the iron bull

[esta-elavaris]

Flufftober Day 25: Nook ~ Cullen Rutherford/F!Inquisitor [2,285]

My Flufftober '23 masterpost can be found here 💜✨

It began like most things in his relationship with Evelyn did – with a fantasy. A pipe dream, or so Cullen always deemed them back then. First because he believed she would never, could never return his feelings, and then even after…because making plans for the future, for after the Inquisition, felt a lot like tempting fate.  

But, despite all of his fears, and despite all of the odds, the future came. And it was a good one. Evelyn recovered from the loss of her arm, from the injury that almost took her life in Orlais, and on the other side of it they found what they’d spent so long wishing for. A quiet life of their own. Together. A home that they built themselves, to their exact tastes, laughing in the face of all of the little foibles that reared their heads in the process – because they were nothing compared to what they’d already faced. It was when the building was more or less complete, however, that Cullen was reminded of a conversation they’d had back in Skyhold, when their relationship was still a somewhat new, tentative thing.

“Where is it you go, when none can find you?”

They’d managed to steal enough time for lunch together – in his office, so he could return swiftly to his mountain of work immediately thereafter. There was little chance of them making room on his desk for it, but he’d produced a small folding table that he may or may not have stashed to the side for this very purpose, and it worked a treat. At Evelyn’s insistence, he took the chair and she perched atop his desk on the small space that did allow for it…and in a manner that played into more than one of the other sort of fantasies he’d had regarding her. The less-than-gentlemanly ones.

At his question, the smile slipped from her face, replaced by a guilty frown and he regretted asking in the first place.

“I don’t do it when I know I’ll be needed urgently. Or even semi-urgently,” she explained quietly. “Just…when I really, really need it.”

“I never thought for a moment that you were neglecting your duties,” he rushed to reassure her, “I cannot even imagine what it is you face…”

“Considering your standing by my side, staring at it with me, I suspect you can,” she replied.

Cullen liked the notion of that. Not at what they faced, of course, but that she viewed him as being right beside her in it. But why had he brought it up? Even if it didn’t have the sound of an accusation, it brought the world back in here with them. But Evelyn weighed him up for a moment, eyes filled with great consideration. Then, finally, she smiled a little and plucked up a lemon cake from the offerings on the table.

“Come – I’ll show you.”

He was powerless but to follow – wherever she was concerned. Were she any other, that might worry him…but were she any other, he would not have been falling so hard and so quickly. Andraste only knew how his luck was so great that it appeared to be very reciprocal.

Trying to give the impression that he was simply the Commander following the Inquisitor on matters of official business, he followed her across the battlements until she came to the derelict tower across the way – although he did a poor job at hiding his surprise when it became clear she wasn’t just passing through it to lead him elsewhere. How could she be here, of all places, when it was so commonly passed through?

Then, however, she climbed up onto the window ledge and used it as a jumping point to vault up to the small perch above. It had once been a floor for a second story within the tower, but it had decayed and crumbled so that now a perch was all it was. A precarious one, at that.

“Are you coming up?” she called down.

If she moved back far enough, it was easy to see how she would not be sighted there. Particularly since few would be mad enough to go climbing up there to begin with.

“I’m not sure it’ll hold my weight.”

“That muscle-bound, are you? Be careful, Cullen, or you’ll send me swooning.”

He chuckled. “I’d be amazed if it could support a mouse, Evelyn.”

“You’ll be fine. I give you my word.”  

Who was he to argue against the solemn vow of Inquisitor Evelyn Trevelyan? He climbed up, albeit with less grace than she’d done, and blinked in surprise when he did so. Having expected it to be entirely empty, he found instead that there were a few meagre signs of the time she spent here – namely a worn old blanket, a couple of books, and a jar of assorted dried fruits. Neither boredom, nor chill, nor hunger would have to send her from her refuge.

“Welcome to my kingdom,” she teased. “What’s wrong? You don’t look impressed by all of my riches.”

He didn’t feel impressed, but rather…sad. Desperately sad. That this was the best escape she could hope for when everything out there got to be too much. Considering all she did for everybody, all she gave, she deserved more than this.

“How do you read in this gloom?” he asked.

“Ah – you see the gap in the wall there where it’s crumbled away? In the afternoon, the light is better than any candle. It’s quite cosy, I swear. You should’ve seen the hiding places I used to wedge myself into back in the Circle.”

“And in the morning, when the sun is at the other side of the castle?”

“I’m never here in the morning. I only come when I’ve done everything else that might possibly need done, by which point my duties fall back to hearing Josephine tell me about the latest marriage proposals sent my way.”

Well. He couldn’t pretend he wasn’t glad she sought to avoid that.

Since then, although he never let on to the woman who eventually became his wife, he’d had it in the back of his mind that if they were ever as lucky to have what they did now, he would make sure it housed a nook of the kind that she deserved. And when she left to visit family not long after they were finally done building their home, it allowed him to turn it into a surprise.

When he insisted on adding more space onto their would-be study than was strictly necessary, Evelyn hadn’t questioned it much – but now that she was gone, he could see about the things that she definitely would have questioned. Such as his designs for the large, ornate circular window that would act as one “wall” of the nook. For while he was fairly good with his own two hands, glass-work was beyond his realm of experience, as were the wrought-iron designs that would line it. He wanted this to be fantastic – he needed this to be fantastic. For her.

Even if that meant driving the local craftsmen towards murderous urges with his stubbornness. But those coincidentally faded the moment they realised what they put together would be going to the Inquisitor. Cullen had long since concluded that they’d faced enough, done enough, and sacrificed enough, that they were entitled to the perks that did come along. Which was why he finagled the best, plushest cushions for the nook – with covers made from the finest, softest forest green fabric available – for half the price. They even threw in a matching set of drapes to cover the nook and conceal it from view once it was done. Josephine would have been very proud. It was so spatious and comfortable that, given her small stature, Evelyn could sleep there, if she liked – although he hoped she would not – and wake up without so much as a stiff neck.

The cushion would rest atop the shelf he’d built, nestled between two curved bookshelves (also built by him) that provided ample room to house every book she owned…and hopefully at least some of the many she would no doubt acquire going forth. There was always room to store more – in a drawer, beneath the seat. He could build that-

No. He was getting too carried away with himself. She hadn’t even seen it yet. Cullen did, however, allow himself to add in an extra little ledge to allow room for a lantern, along with snacks or a tankard. Open candleflames by books seemed like a bad idea. As did wine, for that matter.

By the time the day of her return came one glorious golden morning, Cullen’s arms and shoulders were sorer than they’d been since he was regularly running drills with the Inquisition soldiers, and he found himself eagerly awaiting the sound of her horse on the road. Almost as much as he had when she used to be gone from Skyhold for sometimes months at a time, seeing through gruelling Inquisition business.

When her Amaranthine Charger came bounding up the road towards their home, Evelyn grinning atop it, Cullen was powerless but to return the smile – catching her when she all but launched herself off of the horse at him before the stallion even came to a proper stop. She kissed him, grinning through it all the while, and he cared not about the dust from the road that caked her – not only because he never cared about such things, but because this sort of greeting was something they’d been denied so many times in the past, having to prioritise professionalism.

“Come – I’ve something to show you,” he set her down and took her hand, self-control the only thing that stopped him from dragging her to the house.

He also chose to ignore her mutter behind him of I’ve heard worse lines, I suppose.

The curtains to the nook were drawn as they walked into the study, and her ride in would not have afforded her even a glimpse of what lay on the other side – so she had no reason to think there was anything but the window that had previously been there. But even that gave her pause, and she paused, one dark eyebrow raising in bemusement.

“You bought curtains, Cullen?”

The confusion was fair – Josephine would have had to draw blood if she wanted to get him discussing the décor of his tower, back in the day. She often threatened to do just that. A day where he begged Sera for a lunch date would come sooner than one where he took it upon himself to spontaneously pick up a pair of floor length velvet curtains for their study.

“I think you’ll find what lies beyond the curtains to be of greater interest.”

“Did you clean the window?” she teased.

“See for yourself,” he nodded in the direction of the curtains.

A perplexed furrow in her brow, her hand slid from his as she moved forth. Cullen watched with bated breath as she dipped one hand between the curtains and parted them – and then her jaw slackened and she went very still, staring ahead in disbelief. After a moment, the hand raised again, pushing the right side of the curtain fully aside, and then it moved to cover her mouth, trembling as it did so.

When she turned her head to look at him, her eyes were filled with tears.

“Oh, Cullen,” she breathed in disbelief.

“That was not what I intended,” he said softly, moving to stand behind her, wrapping his arms about her middle and taking in his handiwork once again.

With no small amount of satisfaction. He was worried that, once she’d seen it, he would belatedly notice streams of deficiencies in the finished product. But there were none.

“I thought about waiting until you returned and putting it together with you – with your input…but I couldn’t help but risk it. I thought it might be a nice surprise.”

“It is,” she replied quickly. “The nicest surprise. It’s perfect – it’s…I could never even imagine such a thing, much less piece it all together. I can’t believe…you did this for me?!”

“Who else?” he chuckled, squeezing her. “I’ve wanted to for years. I almost did in Skyhold, but we were looking to the future…I didn’t want to make something like this for you and then have to leave it behind. But here…”

“For years? Why for years? I don’t…”

“Since you showed me your perch in that tower.”

Afterwards, at the time, he’d offered to let her make use of his bedroom – and then quickly flushed and clarified that up in his loft, she might be more comfortable, and none would go seeking her there, for he could run interference. But she’d refused, admitting that if she heard him having to run such interference – while working, no less – she’d only feel guilty and give herself up swiftly thereafter. Still, the mental image of her huddled up on some miserable little slab of rotting wood in a threadbare blanket and calling it an escape always bothered him.

“You…Andraste, Cullen, since then? Because of that?” it sounded like she wasn’t sure whether to laugh or sob, lifting one of the hands that were wrapped around her to her lips, and keeping it there.

Cullen smiled softly behind her. Even after all this time, she still had no idea the things he’d do just to make her happy. It wasn’t personal – that much he knew. When they first met, she loathed the idea of one so much as helping her carry something. If anything, he blamed the Circle. It only meant that he’d have to continue driving the message home.

Links: AO3 -- FF.net -- flufftober masterpost -- dividers by cafekitsune

#esta's flufftober '23 fills #flufftober2023 #flufftober 2023 #flufftober #cullen rutherford/f!inquisitor #cullen rutherford/f!trevelyan #cullen rutherford fic #cullen rutherford x f!inquisitor #cullen rutherford x f!trevelyan #dragon age fic #dragon age fanfic #DAI fanfic

[elreyesvidal]

Cold and Dark (F!LavellanxCullen)

AN: Initially posted this on ao3 but I never go on there so I deleted it and decided to share here instead. (Using the default name, Ellana.)

Orders, pleas, prayers, and screams drown out the sound of the distant marching and the flames starting to engulf Haven. A trebuchet is aimed for the mountain top, but before it can be fired, a blighted looking creature approaches. Ellana urges her companions to get moving, hoping they won't stop when they realize she's no longer behind them. Ellana had planned to linger to set off the trebuchet, what she did not plan was almost being hit directly by the creature.

One moment, Ellana fears her life will end at the hands of the one that calls himself Corypheus, and in the next moment, she is falling through an opening in the ground, unsure of what her fate is any longer.

When she comes to, she finds herself in a dark, cold, and empty cave. She gets up, doing her best to ignore the pain that lances throughout her whole body. Nothing appears to be broken, just bruised with some scrapes here and there. Ellana lets out a hiss when she tries to look around, the back of her head throbbing, she remembers then, how Corypheus had thrown her against the trebuchet. The pain finally catching up now that her adrenaline is wearing out.

It's okay, nothing she can't handle.

Once she makes it out of the cave, she realizes how bad the situation is. The aftermath of the avalanche is making it nearly impossible to see, but she has to pick a direction and move forward. She finds a couple of campfires, and although they are old, they at least let her know she is going in the right direction.

Eventually the strong wind dies down as she continues up the mountain, but she is beyond exhausted. The cold is becoming unbearable, if she was cold before it's nothing to what she feels now. In fact, the cold seems to numb her to the pain she was feeling before, save for the scrapes that she's praying won't become infected. The sound of her teeth chattering surrounds her as she keeps trekking upwards. Just reach the top of the mountain. She keeps repeating to herself. But then what? What if there is no sign of anyone?

Ellana has been avoiding thinking about the others, afraid that there's a possibility she failed and the old campfires she found were of a very small group of survivors. Did her companions make it? A part of her regretted asking them to stay behind with her but they didn't even hesitate to follow her. Her mind then wanders to her last conversation with Cullen. "But what of your escape?" "Perhaps you'll surprise it, find a way." "If we are to have a chance, if you are to have a chance, let that thing hear you."

Ellana herself hadn't said much at the time. What could she possibly say to someone she's still getting to know but also likes? She finds it ridiculous to be thinking of something so trivial when her life is on the line, as well as the impending danger on all of Thedas if they can't figure out a way to put an end to Corypheus and his plans. Then a dark thought crosses her mind, Do they still need her? Does she want them to need her?

She is tired, and not just from trudging through the snow for who knows how long. Securing the templars aid took a toll on her. Being brought into her own mind and being forced to see what the envy demon planned to do while pretending to be her. Cole helped so much, but there was no time for her to discuss what happened, on a deeper level, with someone else.

Nightmares had kept her from getting a full night's rest. Ellana always waved away Josephine's comments about how she would wake before even Cullen. Most of those early mornings Ellana spent collecting elfroot, it benefitted Adan as well as gave her an excuse to wander away from everyone until she felt ready to rejoin everyone. On a few rare occasions, Cullen happened to wake at the same hours. Ellana noticed the look in his eyes, mirroring her own. A part of her wanted to bring up what had happened, if anyone, maybe he would understand. But she'd always back out and instead would ask him to spar with her. His eyes would lose the darkness to them, and she'd feel her mind clear.

Now though, all Ellana could think about was what was waiting for her at the top. Another campfire. As she walked past it, she felt the smallest bit of warmth. Looking back at it as she paused, she realized there were embers. A spark of hope ignited in her, as much as she didn't want to get her hopes up. Her body had reached past its limit but she couldn't stop now, if she stopped she wouldn't be able to get up again.

A few more steps, if they're nearby, she'll be able to see them from the top.

As Ellana reaches the top, she notices lights in the distance. Before she can react, she sees several figures running toward her. As they become clearer, a wave of relief washes over her. Inquisition soldiers, Cassandra and… Cullen. "There! It's her!"

They found her. Unable to stay standing any longer, Ellana falls to her knees.

The inquisition soldiers begin to reach for her but Cullen stops them, "I'll carry her." The soldiers step back as Cullen removes his mantle and drapes it across Ellana. The action doesn't even register to Ellana, nor what he's saying, until he reaches down and scoops her up in his arms. However, Ellana doesn't have the energy to react like she normally would at such a display; instead, she simply curls up against his chest, holding onto his mantle with what strength she has left. Through her teeth chattering, she thinks she hears Cullen say, "I'm sorry, my armor plate must not be helping with the cold." She's not sure though, her consciousness keeps slipping away even though she wants to stay awake as much as she can.

Her teeth chattering doesn't begin to subside until they near the campsite, but she's still very cold. To the left of her, Cassandra speaks quietly, "Commander." That single words earns a sigh from Cullen and she feels herself being handed off to one of the soldiers after a beat of silence. Ah, it must be a warning. Now is not the time for there to be new rumors surrounding her. Ellana opens her eyes and looks toward Cullen. He looks worried, well more worried than usual.

Something unspoken passes between them and she misses his warmth as soon as he lets her go onto the waiting soldier's arms. From the corner of her eye, Ellana sees another soldier approaching with a thick blanket. The soldier absentmindedly reaches for Cullen's mantle, which appears to have been a mistake. Cullen stops the soldier's hand in place, but seems to realize the situation he got himself into. He clears his throat and clarifies, "I'll do it." The soldier, afraid to say anything, simply nods and waits with the blanket in hand.

Cullen gently removes his mantle but instead of putting it on, grabs the blanket from the waiting soldier, and puts it over Ellana. It's not until he steps back and nods at the soldier in dismissal that he puts his mantle back on. At that final sight, Ellana can't help but be glad that she kept going.

#dragon age: inquisition #dai #dai fanfic #cullen rutherford #cullen x lavellan #cullen x inquisitor #i always suffer with titles but i wanted to keep it the same as when i had it up on ao3 #i did tweak some things since i reread it before posting it #im a slow writer so idk how active i'll be on this side blog besides accidental fast reblogs lol #not good at rating so i wont usually include those unless theres something i can easily say is 'T' or 'M'

[warpedlegacywrites]

The Equation of Them

The @loveacrossthedaszine has been posted, and so I am now posting my entry fic separately for those who wish to read it!

It shouldn’t have happened. Dorian should have been more careful. Bull should have protected the Inquisitor. Now she’s injured, and they’re left with a problem to solve – why Bull chose to save Dorian over her.

2500 words Dorian Pavus/The Iron Bull

#my writing #dorian pavus x the iron bull #adoribull #love across thedas #da fanfic #dai #dragon age inquisition #dai fanfic #dorian pavus #the iron bull #background inquisitor x cullen rutherford #feelings realization

[spainkitty]

WIP WEDNESDAY

Chapter 2: The course is but run, and end has begun

Finally, her wisp's light began to refract against something moving. At first it looked like slithering. She and Dorian recoiled sharply before they noticed the rhythm of it. The ebb and flow. The sloshing against stone and wood.

“… that’s a dock,” Lanil said, breathless and her own dread and suspicions mounting. “Dorian, you said the amulet shouldn’t have moved us through space, only time?”

“Yes, but obviously something has—”

“No, no, you were right. Maker’s breath, you were right,” Lanil said. She all but fell on her ass to back away rapidly and incidentally dragging Dorian with her before sidling out of his grip. She spun in a circle with new eyes. The crater was massive, the pit nearly as large. The blackened rubble and the huge tree and there—a twisted mess of iron and wood that once had been a portcullis.

“Surana?”

“Redcliffe Castle has a dock, Pavus. A dock built underneath the castle,” Lanil said, fury and something deeper than fear running through every word. Dorian’s eyes widened.

“Yes, Felix brought me… You can’t mean that this is Redcliffe Castle!?” Dorian asked, sweeping his arm out.

Lanil ignored her heaving stomach, the constant song thrumming against her skull, the unsteadiness of her legs. She ran for the ledge, skirting the pit and the lyrium with shudders running down her spine. The sides of the crater were near a foot over her head, probably about level with Dorian’s height. She scrabbled up them, fingernails digging into dirt, her thin slippers sliding and slipping, pebbles and dust raining down into Dorian’s face when he followed her. She hauled herself over the edge, wheezing and cursing, vision spotting again, and saw the large, glassy, Fade-green surface of Lake Calahad and the mountains of Ferelden’s Hinterlands beyond.

“Fuck,” she hissed.

Dorian came up beside her, coughing slightly and brushing dirt from his clothes absently as he stared into the Hinterlands. What was left of it. Huge swathes of forest were replaced by blackened earth and large, glowing, red lyrium. The village on the opposite shore was in shambles and eerily silent, although it wasn't nearly the decimation at her back. The only movement among the rubble and few standing houses was the wind. And the rippling veins of light along the lyrium’s surfaces. Dorian and Lanil exchanged a loaded glance before heading towards where the broken bridge lay.

Getting from where the castle had been to the other shore across the lake was more time- and mana-consuming than difficult. The bridge between the shore and the castle had been destroyed when Alexius kicked out the arl, but there was more than enough debris in the water to fill in the gap. They had to clamber a bit, and the lowest part of their makeshift bridge was nearly under water, but they made it. Now on the other side, Lanil took in the details of the village’s ruin. Almost every building was dilapidated, whole walls missing, roofs caved in, shutters hanging from mere splinters. Huge stone blocks with traces of soot were lying like forgotten toys in the grass, and there were several gaping holes in the sides of buildings where more rubble had flown through. Lanil knelt beside one such chunk of stone, fingertips darkening when she touched it.

“This definitely came from the castle,” she said, frowning.

“Which means whatever destroyed it, it exploded outward,” Dorian surmised.

“Is this as bad as the Conclave? Did whatever happen then happen again?” Lanil asked, brushing her fingers clean on her robes.

“I didn't see it the aftermath with my own eyes, but it would explain why the sky is… like that.”

They both looked up reflexively and shuddered. Lanil could smell the Fade. It pervaded every one of her senses, almost as overpowering as the stench of the rotting fields and worse things left behind in these deserted homes.

Before they gone much farther, Lanil knew the entirety of Redcliffe was empty.

#For It Is Fleeting AU #dai fanfic #Dorian Pavus #Lanil Surana #dao surana #dai surana #since my adaar goes to the templars what would Dorian and Lanil be up to? well DOING THE QUEST ANYWAY #zevsurana made a hilarious post-chain abt 'what if they were there longer than a few hours' #while i came up with this idea before i saw the post i definitely fleshed it out and went HARD with it because of it #sadly it's a lot less funny in mine😔 #gonna go reread theirs for the lols #im probably going to nipandtuckandtwist around these chapters during editing but this scene should stay the same #kitty writes a thing #kitty writes about dragons #dragon age fanfiction

[broodwolf221]

ik I was talking about this as a drawing but that's not gonna happen for ages so. tiny fic.

-

When he returned from his walk, he smiled to see the Inquisitor sitting atop his desk. She looked to be in a particularly good mood, although her smile turned a little coy as he approached and let himself be pulled in for a lingering kiss. She had made it abundantly clear that she would not hide their relationship, and over time he'd grown more or less accustomed to her bold affections, but he still hesitated slightly before wrapping his arms around her shoulders and leaning into it.

She bit gently at his lower lip and he gasped, feeling his cheeks grow hot and hoping no one was watching - she was being even bolder than usual today. Having wrapped an arm around his waist, she pulled back to stare up at him, easy from where she remained seated on his desk. She leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth. "You should come to my chambers soon," she whispered against his skin, making him shiver a bit. Then she kissed him properly again and pushed up to a standing position without breaking the kiss.

Finally she pulled away with a bright smile and started walking away, hands clasped in front of her. He smirked. "My book, vhenan." He watched her pause mid-stride before her shoulders slumped.

"Damn," she muttered under her breath as she turned and handed him the heavy tome. "It's no fair, you can't possibly need all these at the same time."

"I cross-reference, as you well know." He kissed her forehead while she frowned at him. "You can borrow it when I'm quite done." She sighed loudly before shrugging.

"Read fast, then."

#solavellan #f!lavellan #solasmance #dai fanfic #silly little thing

[little-lightning-lavellan]

WELL ITS ABOUT TIME FOR A NEW CHAPTER

Copied this over from my Ao3, but I am SO SORRY its taken me so long to put out a new chapter. After attending a friend's wedding, I immediately went into surgery, and recovery has been difficult ever since.I still am not fully recovered, but my beta-reader surprised me and let me know that this chapter was finished, and I'm so happy that I get to share this one with you all!

I hope you enjoy it, and again, I'm so sorry for keeping you all waiting. <3

Chapter 26: A Fool’s Errand

Felandaris did little to dull the scent that somehow still pulsed through Mellan’s nostrils as headily as fresh bread seeping in across the threshold via the not-so distant kitchens.

The scent was plaster.

Plaster, with a hint of paint beneath fingertips. Fingertips that crushed ferns beneath them in one hand, and in the other cupped her face. The sour scent of magic, acquired and electric. A familiar sweater’s warmth in its well-loved care, washed in a home-brewed soap but holding a natural aroma that lingered with its age.

‘Mellan,’

Her toes curled to the floor and the elf let out a little ‘yip!’ of pain as she hit a splinter where the wood cracked to betray her. ‘Wake up,’ it seemed to say, unknowingly echoing the very words of the one she was fantasizing over.

Fantasizing! Her!

Of all people; she hardly even thought herself capable of it. It wasn’t as if anyone else would think she could.

Turning herself on a coin to plop her rear upon the wood, Mellan shimmied her knees to block out her chin from the candlelight. She’d been practically salacious; what would her Keeper say if she saw her like that?! Wasn’t that how the ladies - she didn’t even really like being called a lady! - in Varric’s books acted… she certainly felt like she was blushing like the Seeker was when she read them - it wasn’t as if Mellan didn’t spy that wee chestnut.

Worrying at the loose ties of her tunic, she snuggled her forehead deeper to bump her legs. Then again, did she care much anymore? Now, that was a truly scary thought; a thought she really ought not to be having. First she was struggling to care for this nasty Inquisition business, but now what her Keeper may think of her actions?

Well, what about Aislin?

Oh, Aislin would hate this. Hate, hate, hatehatehate--

‘You know, I don’t recall asking anyone’s sister’s opinions…’ On the topic of dreams one failed to forget, eyes she hadn’t realized she’d squeezed shut sprung open to the sound of an echoing chant in the recesses of her memory. 

‘What are yours?’

Slow arrow.

Mellan lifted head and hand, tracing the shape of the bracelet in the air with her pointer finger. Silver and light, near mockingly so, much like the glinting of his lavender eyes.

Lavenders. For loyalty. Devotion.

“I liked it,” she admitted to the man in her mind’s eye, whispering on the wind, so sure that only the cobwebs would hear her. “I don’t want to forget it. I--”

‘I’m afraid,’ she thought, before another remembrance returned:

‘You feel safe, don’t you?’

“More than I know I should.” Something was amiss, something remained unspoken and more than her own cowardice was to blame. Everything returns to the dirt after it is born, and eventually in it is forgotten, until it is one with the Fade, and lingers.

That should not scare Solas, but something in it did, and he seemed determined to shield her eyes from it like it should blind her if he not.

‘What of this lingers that you do not wish I know, ma fen?’

‘You’ve yet to guess, Mellan.’

Braids fell hard and unforgiving, like chunks of snow off of shaken trees, as she leapt down and shook her head all in one fell swoop. She would, she would; she was nothing if not a diligent researcher. Better yet, she was one that was, perhaps, developing something that her precious books had that, until recently, she’d so greatly lacked:

A spine.

Read the rest Here on Ao3!

Again, I’m so sorry that its taken me so long to publish this, please be patient with me as I continue to heal up. <3 I love you all so much, thank you all for being so supportive of me, it means so much. 

Tagging the usual suspects to see the goodies:

@pikapeppa​ @because-im-hap-hap​ @emerald-amidst-gold​ @oxygenforthewicked​ @rosella-writes​ @varric-tethras-editor​ @kantrips​ @the-dreadful-canine​ @smashingpigeons​ @blueheaded​ @drunken-drengr​ @reonerra @dungeons-and-dragon-age​ @layalu​ @dreadfutures​ @darethshirl​  @fiadhaisteach @bogunicorn​ @ashalle-art​ @shift-shaping​ @noire-pandora​ @palepinkycat​ @debgall​ @malewifezevran​ @1000generations​ @drag-on-age​ @siennamain​ @dalish-spectre​ @raflesia65​ @thevikingwoman​ @kumaronoa​ @midorimaddie​ @sassyseeker​ @musetta3 @rivainisomniari​ @in-arlathan​ @melisusthewee​ @jellydishes​ @effelants​ @potatowitch​

#dragon age #solavellan #dragon age inquisition #solas #lavellan #dai fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #bioware #dai #writing #da fanfic #my writing #sollan #mellan #fen'harel #agent of fen'harel #da4

[tea42]

Ring of Fire

Inquisitor Anders learns about the cure for Tranquility before they find Maddox.

Maddox / Samson, Maddox & Samson, Anders/Sebastian, past Anders/Karl

I’m starting a series in the middle because why not?

Chapter 1 of 2 up

“Hello Inquisitor”, the man said from the floor without lifting his eyes.

‘A Tranquil Mage? Why?’ Anders’ zeal from battle turned to acute discomfort as he stared at the ring of fire on the man’s forehead. He could not look into a Tranquil’s face without seeing Karl as well. 

“You know me?”, Anders asked, his heart beating like the wings of a trapped bird.

“It’s Maddox. Samson’s Tranquil,” Cullen said.  Anders thought the Templar had started to come around, but then he gave this casual assertion of ownership, an echo of so many he had heard through his life. It had Anders whirl around. The brown of Cullen's wide eyes were made blue by the light of Justice.

“He does not belong to anyone”,  Anders and Justice said as one.

“I-, yes. Yes, of course. I apologize”, Cullen stammered but his eyes shifted behind Anders.

Before Anders turned he knew what he would see. Maddox’s once placid face was awash with emotions.

continued on ao3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/47293663/chapters/119169082

#yes i was was listening to that song on repeat while i wrote this #my writing #tea42 writing #dai fanfic #cullen critical #maddox dragon age #samson dragon age #anders dragon age #inquisitor anders

[britcision]

So my partner @ekwolfwood got me into Dragon Age Inquisition

I warned you I would become something terrible

SO HERE HAVE A FICLET FROM THE FOUR HERALDS AU IN WHICH TIME MAGIC FUCKERY HAS CAUSED THERE TO BE FOUR HERALDS OF ANDRASTE INSTEAD OF ONE

(It’s fine they unionized early the plot relevant parts are in progress)

Today’s bullshit featuring the talents of:

Corin Cadash - Carta blacksmith sent to the Conclave because the actual smuggler and spy got sick and literally no one else was available, as discrete and stealthy as a bag of loose bells (they/them Problem On Purpose )

Lluciano Lavellan - Dalish rogue and spy sent to the Conclave because in his heart he is a fucking golden retriever and outsiders are suckers for his big puppy eyes (he/him omnisexual disaster)

(Do you see the pattern? Good cuz the other two are Tavi Adaar and Séamus Trevelyan)

——————

Herbs

No one had specifically mentioned what species the healer in Redcliffe was, and Cadash hadn’t expected it to matter this far into the chaos.

The exhausted elf tucking herself back into a corner did not agree. Lavellan did most of the talking, since he was the nice one.

He’d had a bug in his ass since someone had mentioned needing a healer down at the crossroads, and someone else mentioned there was one here, in Redcliffe.

One healer for two settlements was a guaranteed shit show either way, but at least Redcliffe was still tucked in the woods. And apparently not treating one of their most valuable citizens well.

“Look, I don’t care,” the healer finally cut Lluciano off, raising a hand. “The people here barely tolerate me as it is, and that only because their human healer is dead. I’m not looking for a new place to be called a knife-ear.”

Lavellan’s earnest, hopeful smile crumpled almost at once, and Cadash was just glad they hadn’t brought Solas along for this trip. He always seemed to know just what to say to upset vulnerable elves.

They’d heard the derogatory words humans used for elves, dwarves, qunari for as long as they’d known humans. Hell, the Inquisition was the longest they’d gone in their life without hearing most of them.

Lavellan though… well, Lluciano Lavellan hadn’t had much to do with humans until he’d been sent to spy on the Conclave. The fact that even he clearly knew the word was… telling.

“Look,” Corin cut in, stepping forward neatly to dodge Cassandra reaching for their shoulder. Probably specifically to prevent this.

They might not be the most tactful member of the Inquisition, but sometimes straight talk helped.

“Times are shit and you’re a healer. No matter what blood you’ve got in you, it’s worth more than gold right now. You’re under personal protection of the Heralds and if anyone says one word to you at the crossroads, I’ll walk you to Haven myself and let them remember how well their bullshit treats their wounds.”

As far as they were concerned, anyone stupid enough to buy into any of this speciesist crap deserved whatever joys it brought them.

Cassandra subsided back, her lips pressed together in a tight line. The elven healer didn’t look convinced either, though something like a smile danced on her lips.

Lavellan stepped forward again, his hand coming up to hover between them, an offer for her to reach out.

“These are strange times,” he agreed with a slight nod to Corin, “but there is a lot all of us can do to help. I know I’ve been hearing it less than I thought I would. Perhaps this is how we change things?”

The healer hesitated for a moment longer, her gaze flicking from Lavellan to Cassandra, to Cadash and to the Iron Bull. Always back to Lluciano.

Finally she sighed and nodded, glancing around the small house.

“Alright. I suppose I’ll be safer with the Inquisition soldiers around than I am here anyway. But there are some things I’ll need first, for my patients here. I can’t just leave them,” she added, sounding almost bitter.

A damn good healer then. Cadash nodded as Lavellan happily stepped back, all adorable and flushed with success.

“Sure. What do you need?” They could probably find it while she packed, solve the whole thing, bring the healer to the crossroads themselves on their way back to Haven.

It’d give Corin a chance to impress their personal opinion on Corporal Vale. While dropping off some of the other supplies they’d grabbed. Carrot and stick and all.

“Just some herbs,” the healer explained, already turning to the shelf behind her to pick through what she could carry, “elfroot and spindleweed.”

And it meant she just so happened to be looking the other way when Lavellan lit up like a little sunbeam, practically bouncing on the spot in excitement.

And all four of his companions groaning loudly, though the noise grabbed her attention at once.

“I can help!” Lluciano told the now puzzled healer enthusiastically, already digging into his pack.

Varric sighed heavily and leaned back against the wall. Unlike Cadash, he didn’t always bother pushing through the taller people. He didn’t need to to be heard.

“Lavellan picked every elfroot in the Hinterlands on our way here,” he explained dryly while Lavellan pushed his pack into Iron Bull’s hands so he could root in to the shoulder.

How the damn herbs slipped from the top when he’d been grabbing them half an hour ago at most was beyond Cadash. But Lavellan did like when the Iron Bull flexed his muscles.

The healer looked like she was torn between laughing and shock, her mouth opening and closing until she finally settled into a startled laugh when Lluciano dropped double fistfuls of herbs into her arms.

“Is that all? Are there any other herbs you’ll need?” He asked hopefully, looking for all the world like an excited puppy.

The poor healer just stared at him for a moment, her mouth opening and closing.

By the door, Varric snickered.

“We’ve travelled from the Storm Coast to Val Royeaux, and the Herald’s picked every damn plant that even might be useful. Anything you need is in that bag,” he added with a nod to the Iron Bull.

“And the other one hauling every damn scrap of iron and serpentstone out of the rocks,” Iron Bull grumbled good naturedly, because he was a traitor.

Cadash huffed, settling their heavy and clinking pack more comfortably over their back brace.

“And here was me, about to measure you for some nice new gauntlets. I suppose I can put it all back,” they said archly.

Bull chuckled and shook his head, still holding Lavellan’s pack even as he bounced in place, waiting for the healer’s next request.

“Point taken, Cadash,” he said simply, and Cassandra huffed an exasperated laugh.

“Yes, well… that is one more thing we can promise you with the Inquisition,” she told the healer, her usual stiff formality cracking with the release of tension, “the Heralds will personally ensure that you want for nothing that could be foraged from the hills.”

Cadash narrowed their eyes as the healer fell back into shaky giggles.

“Was that sarcasm, Cassandra? Did you forage sarcasm in the Hinterland hills?” They asked mock suspiciously, grinning in triumph when Cassandra rolled her eyes at them.

“It was the only thing in abundance with you, Lavellan, and Varric that was not already snatched up,” she said simply.

The healer shook her head, tension slipping from her shoulders as she gave Lluciano a proper smile.

“Thank you… yes, there are a few other herbs I need, and then I can go. I suppose the Inquisition forces at the crossroads will have an easier time with the supplies I need.” She didn’t sound like she quite believed what was happening.

That was pretty much the normal reaction to a visit from the Heralds though, so she would find herself in good company at the crossroads.

Lluciano dived straight back into his pack, pulling out his various bundles and sorting them as the healer listed the different herbs she needed.

Nothing he didn’t already have in abundance either, as he happily dug through his bulging pack.

The Iron Bull just held it out for him, watching with a fond amusement that was just fucking adorable while Lavellan rooted around, chatting cheerfully about the different herbs and where he’d found each damned leaf.

So what if it was cute. Lluciano was always cute, it was like a fucking curse. Cute, weak ankles, prone to jumping or falling off things.

Catching Varric’s eye, Cadash nodded to the door and the two dwarves slipped outside. Cassandra followed, leaving the elves to their talk.

“It’s about time we headed back to the crossroads,” Corin mused, glancing up at the sky and frowning.

There was a lot that was wrong in Redcliffe, a lot that didn’t make sense and what did was absolutely not good.

Though they were pretty sure Vivienne was going to get a real kick out of what Fiona might have gotten herself into. And how many of the other mages were not on board.

A smile tugging at their lips, Corin stuffed their hands in their pockets. They could see it already; Vivienne’s smug smile, her plans to use the other mages’ discontent.

The complete unawareness that she could have probably actually done something useful for them before joining the Inquisition.

The fact that she could probably gain something by listening to them now. Learn something about the world beyond her circles.

Nope, Vivienne was going to thoroughly enjoy someone else’s plan failing, and Cadash would enjoy watching her try to weave it into all her own plans, blissfully unaware that the discontented mages wouldn’t follow her either.

Sure, a couple wanted to go back to circle life. But those outside, who saw more of the world, would be much less likely to fold themselves in under Vivienne’s plans.

Those now talking to all the other mages who had been pushed to breaking, who’d been living together, hearing their concerns.

They still wanted to reform the circles instead of burning the system down, sure, but that was all part of the system too. And when Vivienne failed to make any of the substantial changes, they’d decide it was because she was wrong.

Not that the system had been designed from the start with all of them in mind, and had channels to turn those who wanted to change the system from within into its strongest supporters.

It was a depressing ass pipeline, but Vivienne was a very intelligent woman. There was a chance she’d work it out before it was too late, if the Inquisition kept the circles empty long enough.

And if she hung around more templars, and mages whose towers were made of something less glamorous than her own.

And if that meant Vivienne travelling back to Redcliffe with them, if only to be smug at Fiona in person? It’d be good for her to spend some time with her feet in the mud.

She could join them all following Lavellan up and down every blasted hill and cranny, scooping up every weed in the fucking Hinterlands. Again.

———————

Because there is nothing I like more in DAI fanfic than Inquisitors who are explicitly and obviously still video game characters, with every stupid and nonsensical thing that entails 😁

Quite a few have been spun off from little side quests or pieces of party banter, and of course none of that would be half so easy without the fabulous work of @missnovelist at the Genitivi Chronicles!

It’s the full transcript, they’ve got most of the way through the main plot so check it out and I bullied them into making a Patreon so if you love this resource as much as I do

(You will the party banter is fucking killer and if your play through is anything like ours those MOTHERFUCKERS will NOT talk to each other no matter how little you fast travel

Vivienne is the villain of Varric’s new series)

Send them a few bucks for this massive labour of love! You get different dialogue options for each species of Inquisitor, for each background, and for half the decision trees so it’s one hell of an undertaking

EDIT: BEHOLD! The masterpost!

#dragon age inquisition #dai #the four heralds #alternate title: you cannot prove the inquisition is not a sex cult #soon to be featuring leliana’s league of loyal lesbians #elfroot hunter lavellan #dai fanfic #inquisitor lavellan #inquisitor cadash #oops all inquisitors #dai fic: herbs #not smoking these ones but elfroot is marijuana #so lavellan will work it out eventually #the four heralds au

[macgyverbooks]

Dragon Age: Inquisition FanFic

The Lies In Which We Linger - Chapter One

Summary: As Aza struggles under the weight of the Inquisition and her growing responsibilities she finds solace in the arms of a fellow Qunari. But not all is well in Thedas, as the threat of breach grows, old enemies from Asa’s past to threaten everything she’s built.

Word Count: 3500

Warnings: None

-

The gob of spit landed squarely on my boot. Suspiciously yellow it dribbled into the cracks of the flagstone in a thick ooze

“Ox-bitch,” I glanced down at the owner of the spit who snarled from under his Andrastian helm. He stood straight and proud in his polished armour, chin raised and jutted foreword with aggression.

The Valo-kas to my right didn’t move, not even bothering to acknowledge the slight. Holding my stare the muscles in the soldiers neck and shoulders tightened in preparation. He was young, almost too young. A few pale yellow whiskers sprouted from his chin as a feeble attempt at a beard while his skin remained smooth and unmarked bar the angry red of his cheeks against the cold. The boy leered showing crooked teeth eyes flashing with male pomp like a skinny cockerel fluffing its feathers daring me to respond. It was going to be a long day. Remaining silent I resisted the grin that tugged at the corner of my mouth and looked ahead readjusting the grip on my simple stave.

The view truly was lovely. A panoramic vista of snowy mountains and wooded valleys with an immense clear blue sky above. If you squinted you could almost make out the herd beasts slowly making their way along the slopes below snuffling through the snow for roots and old grass.

From my vantage point on the parapets I had a good view of the main gate of the Conclave as a river of people flowed through. Even from this distance I could make out the many coloured garbs from across Thedas. Every now and then I could even spot the telltale tall and broad body of a Qunari topped with their great curving horns. More than likely they were only bodyguards or soldiers but the excitement of seeing so many my kin in one place was still thrilling.

An angry stomp of an armoured boot brought my attention back to the little boy.

“Oi, you hear me goat face? Or are you as deaf as you are ugly?”

Mulling over my options I glanced about checking for any other Guardsmen but non were about. He was small and no doubt light, a simple kick and I could send him neatly flying over the balustrade and tumbling down to the rocks below to meet his precious maker but I thought better of it. We were, after all under special instructions to “make nice”.

Sending a withering look to my right I dropped my chin letting him feel the full force of my attention as I stared down unblinking. Gripping my stave I let the crackle of magic fizzle around my fingers. Stinking of ozone and singed wood I leaned over him, baring my sharpened teeth and growled.

“You say something, Imekari?”

Turning even paler the boy soldier bolted with an undignified whimper. Straightening up I listened to his boots clomp away and sighed again.

“They get younger every year,” I muttered.

“You’re losing you’re edge, Aza.” The Valo-Kas to my right mumbled, “you would have flung him off the parapet not so long ago.”

I chuckled and leaned my stave against the wall readjusting my pauldrons, shrugging the tension from my shoulders.

“Not so long ago Meraad, you would have beaten me to it.”

Meraad shook his head, his twisted ivory horns exaggerating the motion

“You insult me” he huffed. I raised an eyebrow in mock disbelief. “He was too small, there would be no challenge.”

Ignoring my look he dug in his pouch producing two pipes and a small bag of tobacco. Packing one neatly he handed one to me then packed his own

“If you could do the honours” he grinned as I rolled my eyes at him.

“Only cause its you,” with a snap of my fingers a flame leapt to life dancing about like a mad firefly lighting both pipes with a flick of my wrist.

Leaning against the stone balustrade looking out over the mountains puffing sweet smoke it was almost romantic. Had it not been for the armour and weapons at our hips.

Taking a deep puff I blew it out into the wind watching it twist and swirl away. Without letting myself really think about it I lent gingerly against Meraads broad shoulder, testing the waters, fully expecting him to pull away. He didn’t. In fact he leaned into me in return, staring straight ahead. Satisfied I allowed myself a small smile, fiddling with the stem of my pipe.

“Don’t celebrate just yet,” Meraad rumbled still staring out at the mountains. “We’ve still got a lot to talk about, you and I.”

A ball of emotion squeezed my throat and I had to clear it a few times before replying lightly 

“Allow me one small victory.”

He grunted in response. Turning his head in a sweep of his board horns he glanced at me and grimaced, the corners of his full mouth pulled down in thought as he seemed to wrestle with his words. Opening his mouth to speak a single shriek of fear echoed from somewhere deep down in the conclave.

Both of us jerked upright on full alert heads on a swivel trying to pick up anymore sounds. The terrible cry came again, this time filled with pain. Hairs on the back of my neck prickled as tiny almost imperceptible shock waves of foreign magic began pulsating beneath my feet echoing up through the thick stone walls. Oh, that’s not good. Grabbing his shoulder I motioned to Meraad quietly

“I’m heading to the eastern stairs. Alert the Captain of the guard and start perimeter sweep with the others, now!” 

Turning to leave I stopped when Meraad grabbed my wrist and pulled me close letting our foreheads gently knock together

“I will meet you at the campfire tonight,” he whispered “for that talk.” 

At that he left hurrying around the corner to the steps leading down into the main hall. Staring after him I couldn’t help feeling hope bloom in my chest. He wanted to talk, after all this time he was finally ready. Turning to take a more direct route down through to the library and more private chambers of the Conclave following the steady thrum of magic I couldn’t stop the smile. Nothing could ruin this day. Nothing.

— A few weeks later —

Sat uncomfortably on the too low chairs I tried not to stare as the delicate elven barmaid served Cullen another beer. She hid behind her serving platter all blushing cheeks and doe eyes while Cullen, still suited up in his bright armour and fur mantle laughed and rubbed the back of his neck at her bashful tittering

Rolling my eyes in a painful groan I felt the pit of my stomach twist with embarrassment. Like I even had a chance. Glancing over I made the mistake of comparing myself to the beautiful elf. Where she was short and dainty I was long and broad. Her bright clear face only marked by the delicate lines of her tattoos, or Vallaslin, while mine was freckled, weather beaten and tattered with scars, some small some not so small. Running my tongue over the corner of my mouth I felt along the raised line of scar tissue that ran from eyebrow to chin, cleaving my lower lip on its way, and frowned swirling the dregs of my ale. I don’t know why I’d allowed it but my traitorous, stupid heart had leapt at the mere sight of the sweet and oh so charming commander. Like the hero in some star spangled folk tale he had appeared and like some idiot I had tried to flirt with him. What I had forgotten was that I more resembled the evil creature in the woods than the love struck, doe eyed heroine. 

Not that my motives had been entirely pure. I’d wanted a fling, something light and inconsequential that wasn’t going to haunt me later. A chance to feel close to someone again. Perhaps it was a poor attempt at consoling my damaged pride but, after some time observing the commander I had decided he wouldn’t appreciate the occasional one nighter. In fact the more I’d thought about it the more he seemed like the settling down type, the kind who would’ve picked out kids names and drapes by the morning after. Maybe I was a closet masochist, at least that would explain a few of my horrific life decisions and downright inappropriate taste in men.

An image flashed through my mind like a ghost. A frozen scene of Meraad tending to the campfire looking over his shoulder with a grin tugging at his mouth. Shivering I shoved the memory aside and downed the last of my drink. Drowning out memories had become a habit of mine over the last few weeks. It was unfortunate the weaker human beers and ales were hardly enough to get me tipsy. Dropping some coins onto the sticky table I shuffled out, sidestepping around the crowd of drunk soldiers and servants.

Out in the cold night air I breathed deep letting it out in a great puff of vapour. Like a dragon I thought with a somber smile. Hushed whispers to my left had me ducking my head, my shoulders tensing up as the three sisters bowed muttering “go in peace, Herald of Andraste” as I passed. Offering a tight lipped grimace of a smile I moved away quickly, heading for my quarters.

Herald of fucking Andraste. What a joke. Not that it really mattered what I thought. Soon as someone figured out I wasn’t deliberately trying to blow the sky open the rumours spread like wild fire. Prophetic. Messiah. Heaven sent. It was enough to make my skin crawl. Even worse was the way they looked at me, staring up in either wide eyed wonder or deep sneering suspicion. I wasn’t sure which one I hated more. At least Varric is here I thought, skirting past his tent were a small crowd had gathered, no doubt wanting to hear his stories.

The dwarf had appeared from nowhere with enough suave confidence to think he’d seen this all before. He was gentle if sarcastic in his manner and had quickly gained my approval much to Cassandra’s exasperation. With his sharp eyes and clever tongue I was keen to keep him around, though I sensed there was much more going on with him than he let on. Split loyalties could prove problematic if this “inquisition” grew anymore momentum. 

Approaching my temporary home I paused noting the door was open a crack, warm candle light spilling onto the snow. Old instincts rang in my head like an alarm and I approached warily, hand on my daggers before I could really think it through. Nudging the door open with a boot I cast my gaze about only to jump back, ripping the curved blades from their sheaths as a small figure dashed around the corner and through the door in a flurry of gold and purple. 

“Oh!” Josephine gasped, stepping back and nearly dropping her note board as her back connected with the door frame. Sighing in relief I quickly replaced the blades and raised my hands placatingly 

“Sorry, sorry,” I muttered, curling my shoulders and bending at the waist so I was closer to her eye level. “Thought you were a thief or something.”

“No need to apologise Herald,” Josephine waved airily, straightening her pristine gold cravat. Herald. I winced at the title, just use my name I wanted to say but I bit my tongue and nodded instead. “I was only dropping off some papers for you to look over.” If Josephine had been anyone else the following beat of silence would have been awkward. Instead she smiled, having to crane her neck up despite my efforts. “It is late, you should get some rest while you can. Tomorrow will be busy and we will need you at your best.” 

“When is it not busy,” I grumbled light heartedly with a polite smile, noting the way Josephines eyes flicked down to my mouth, my sharpened teeth no doubt catching the candle light. Shit. Though technically similar in structure to ours I found humans soft, fleshy faces difficult to read. I never knew how to judge their reactions and Josephine was no different, she was just more forgiving about my confusion than most, though the fact she and Leliana could manipulate their faces so easily still alarmed me. At least Cullen and Cassandra were more verbal and plain about their feelings though, in Cassandra’s case, I  sometimes I wished they weren’t. Despite all that I noted the minute widening of her eyes at my feral smile, the way she raised her note board a fraction higher. Damn it.

“There is someone here to see you, Herald.” She continued breezily, “They’re waiting for you by the Chantry.”  

Clamping my mouth shut I nodded, waving goodbye as Josephine disappeared into the biting winter night, the strange metallic fabric of her puff sleeves reflecting the cold moonlight. Turning toward the great stone hall I couldn’t stop the small shake of my head at the absurdity of my situation. Me of all people rubbing shoulders with templars, ex-royalty and ladies of foreign courts not to mention the multitudes of holy men and woman. A shiver ran up my spine thinking of the conversations with Lelianna in her tent. Her eyes razor sharp with intellect while she pondered and muddled over her words like a mad zealot, grappling with her faith. The awful way she had stared as I floundered for an answer to her questions, my face screwed up into a pained wince just remembering it. It was becoming a terrifying trend in my advisors, them asking for advice and me fumbling under the pressure. Wasn’t it supposed to work the other way round? And what did they really expect from me, some kind of divine wisdom just cause I survived a fucking explosion? I shook my head, that wasn’t it. For all their niceties the questions smacked of judgment, clumsy attempts at testing my character, drawing me out with their tales only to slap me with a moral dilemma and see what I’d do.

Solas was a fucker for it. I’d stood in child like rapture as he spoke of his experiences moving through the fade, what he’d seen and heard, the spirits he’d spoken with. He spun the stories in his gentle voice lulling me into a false sense of security only to pose an innocent question, then snark at my response. Bastard. All of them bastards. Everyone working so hard to put the world back together and stuck with me to lead them. Poor, poor bastards.

Approaching the hall I spied a soldier, a mercenary most likely, waiting by the doors. His armour though battered from use shined reflecting the last of the evenings sun. He was handsome I noted, short but stocky with close cropped brown hair and a soft unmarked face, not your typical looking merc for sure.

“You the Inquisitor?” He asked in a flat, matter-of-fact voice, his eyes looking me up and down.

“Depends whose asking,” I replied, eyeing him in return

“We’ve got word of some Tevinter mercenary’s out on the Storm Coast,” he continued unfazed. “My commander, Iron Bull,  offers the the information free of charge.”

Containing a snort at the name, I folded my arms instead and tutted

“How gracious of him, but I doubt anything is for free. What does this Iron Bull want?” 

“An interview. Come to the Storm Coast and see what the Bull’s Chargers can do for the Inquisition.”

Shaking my head I turned to leave. Any idiot with a sword can claim to be a mercenary and in all my time with the Valo-Kas I’d never heard of the Bull’s Chargers. I wouldn’t waste precious resources chasing what are most likely unskilled peasants with more bravery than sense.

“There is no shortage of mercenaries wanting to join our cause, I don’t have time to-“

“We’re the best you’ll find.” The merc stated. Glancing over my shoulder I squinted at him noting the lack of pomp or anger, just his plain stare meeting my gaze steadily. He wasn’t lying. “Come to the Storm Coast, see us in action, then decide if you need us.”

My lip curled at the wording but I nodded, grudgingly impressed by this soft spoken man.

“Fine.” I conceded with a tired sigh, “tell your Iron Bull we’ll be at the coast in a few days.”

At that the Merc nodded and left, walking off toward the ale house without so much of a backward glance.  

Closing the door of my quarters I poured over the new paperwork Josephine had left. A scout report caught my eye detailing a particularly nasty fight that had broken out in a village in the Hinterlands between the mages and templars, only a few had escaped. It twisted my stomach just how fast things turned to shit. Everyday reports streamed in from every corner of new rifts opening, demons spotted in one place after another, missing people and rogue mages and templars causing havoc. That first trip through the Hinterlands still hung over me. So much death and destruction and not a damn person to stop it. Still despite it all my heart lifted at the prospect of going to the Storm Coast despite my doubt. I hadn’t seen the ocean since I was a girl. With a sigh I stood and grabbed the report needing to organise a few things before I went to bed. Time away from the Haven was time well spent and I was anxious to be out from under the many eyes of this place.

—

“This is bullshit.”

Varric cackled. “Not a fan of the rain, Lucky?” 

“Rain. Rifts. Templars. Demons. Fucking giant spiders.” I listed staring down the beach, “what else am I forgetting?”

“Darkspawn.” Solas added dryly.

Nodding I hooked my thumbs into my belt and sighed. It had been one shit show after another, first the Hinterlands then that mess at Val Royoux and now this gods forsaken coastline. Looking down the beach from our little base camp the rain pelting down my neck all I wanted was to crawl back into bed. After the long gruelling trip over here, slogging through knee high mud and fighting off bandits we’d arrived cold, wet and tired and I’d stupidly spent most of the night going over notes, replying to messages from Scout Harding and looking over acquisition demands from Quartermaster Threnn. Now an ache had settled between my shoulder blades from hunching over my too low desk as exhaustion dragged at my eyelids. 

Below the sounds of fighting echoed up the beach, the clanging of swords cutting through the roar of the waves that battered the rocks. Taking a long breath I nodded at Cassandra and started down the rocky slope. Scout Harding had let us know the Bull’s Chargers were waiting on the beach but I’d let them sit for a few hours, instead heading out to find the few rifts that had been reported on. Demons had felt more important at the time but now I regretted the decision, after being blown off my feet by a fire demon and attacked by giant spiders I was in no mood to play diplomacy with a bunch of mercenaries. Plus my hand ached, the throbbing going straight to the bone as the sickly green light flared and arced. 

“Here we go,” I muttered under my breath as we emerged onto the beach right into the fray. Charging ahead I ripped my blades from their sheathes and tore into battle, all weariness forgotten, my blood singing. This I could do, rip and tear till the job was done. The simplicity appealed to some base part of my nature, the part that wanted to smash heads when some snotty peasant sneered “Oxman” to my face. 

Plunging my daggers in the neck of a Tevinter a shadow loomed over my shoulder. On pure instinct I spun and raised my blood soaked blades braced to be blown away by the massive arc of the war axe that sang through air like quicksilver. Feeling the whoosh of air tussle my braids I lowered my knives an inch in surprise. At my feet lay a tevinter who’d been creeping up on me twitching in pool of blood, an axe imbedded in his spine. Glancing up and up and up I squinted at the massive Qunari, his broad horns and even broader shoulders blocking the weak sun.

“Well hello, Inquisitor!” The Iron Bull said with a blood splattered grin.

#da:i #da: inquisition #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #fic #fiction #dragon age inquistor #dragon age inquistion spoilers #inquisitor adaar #dragon age adaar #adaar #qunari #dai #dai fanfic #the iron bull #monster boy #monster boyfriend #monster fucker #iron bull #iron bull romance #iron bull x inquisitor #iron bull x adaar #female adaar

[enasallavellan]

Enasal Lavellan Reboot

So as I've mentioned, I'm doing some major editing of the still-running longfic about Enasal Lavellan. You can check it out on my ao3 link here, or just wait until Wednesday where each newly edited chapter will appear once a week on my blog.

And since I still for the life of me can't think of a title for this fic, it'll be labeled either Enasal Reboot or something of the like, it depends on how the formatting looks on mobile and desktop both.

I you enjoy it, drop me a like, comment, or the esteemed reblog! And feel free to message me with questions, comments, or prompts!

Love ya'll,

Lacy

#Enasal Lavellan #fanfiction #dragon age fanfiction #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #dragon age fic #dai #dai fanfic #dai fanfiction #enasal tethras #inquisitor lavellan

[ceo-of-sloppy-men]

Do Your Worst To Me; 'Til The River's Running Red

Ship: Cullen Rutherford/Lavellan/Raleigh Samson Rating: Explicit (for mature themes, gore, lyrium addiction/withdrawal, injury, Samson's potty mouth, etc.)

A defeated Raleigh Samson is taken prisoner by the Inquisition after the battle in the Arbor Wilds. He wanted to die on the overgrown cobblestone, unfortunately, Cullen Rutherford and Neros Lavellan don't give a flying rat. Samson is determined to make them regret it.

Today is one of those days I ask myself why I do these sorts of things.

#fanfic #ao3 link #dragon age inquisition #dragon age fanfiction #raleigh samson #samson #cullen rutherford #oc: neros lavellan #dai fanfic #cullen rutherford/lavellan/raleigh samson #raleigh samson/cullen rutherford #cullen rutherford/lavellan #raleigh samson/lavellan #enjoy #angst #cw: gore #cw: blood #major character injury #eventual polyamory #eventual relationship #established relationship

[esta-elavaris]

Flufftober Day 27: Outdoor Event ~ Cullen Rutherford/F!Inquisitor [1,526 words]

My Flufftober '23 masterpost can be found here 💜✨

Evelyn’s sense of satisfaction over just how nicely they’d managed to clean up Skyhold was dampened around the exact moment Josephine deemed it good enough to throw its first ever soiree. But her arguments that the roof could, and absolutely would, cave in any minute now fell on deaf ears – especially when Josephine informed her that what she had planned would take place in the gardens, anyway. Cullen’s dry addition that he wasn’t sure the sky was too structurally sound either, however, did draw a laugh out of her – which, in turn, drew a smirk from him when Josephine’s back was turned.

Ever since her near-death experience back at Haven, he’d been more…warm with her. Not that he’d been cold beforehand, just more tentative. That one night had shown them that there was little time for that, and the result was that they were driving everybody in the castle mad with whatever was blossoming between them. For they could not rush this, either.

In the end, Josephine proved a formidable opponent, and Evelyn found herself trapped in the gardens one brilliant summer day, decked out in a gown of white lace with an entire greenhouse’s worth of roses atop her head. She had to admit the finished effect was rather fine. And that opinion was reinforced when Cullen entered the gardens, caught sight of her, and stopped short in the doorway, staring as though stunned into stillness. He only moved when one of the guests stuck in the hallway behind him complained – and even then, he only looked away long enough to side-step his way into the garden without bumping into anybody before those golden-brown eyes of his were once again fixed on her.

She smiled, although she couldn’t do so too smugly, for he was not the only one staring. While Evelyn had been privy to the argument between he and Josephine as to whether he could wear his armour to this thing – and Josephine’s adamant insistence that if he did, it would have all of the guests worried that he suspected another attack from Corypheus was eminent – she never could have guessed that he’d come like this. Like…like one of the heroes from the novels Cassandra thought none knew she read.

Garbed in a dazzling crimson coat, a slightly darker gold-embroidered waistcoat beneath which covered all but the collar of the white linen shirt beneath, and dark brown breeches and boots, had she not known him, Evelyn wouldn’t have questioned it if she’d been told he was a neighbouring prince or king or some such thing. Although given her experience with nobles and royals, she was rather glad he was not. Even if the King of Ferelden had eventually written to apologise for his foul mood at Redcliffe.

“See something you like, Inquisitor?”

Sometime during their staring contest, Varric had materialised at her side and was now offering her a very self-satisfied smirk. She started, and then recovered quickly, looking away and snorting.

“Shut up.”

“Now you sound like the Seeker. I have to say, I do feel like your beau stole my look.”

“Not enough chest on display for that, I think.”

“Much to your devastation, I’m sure,” Varric teased.

“Did you need something, Varric, or did you just come to poke your nose into my personal life?”

“The latter,” he admitted happily. “I was going to ask if either you or Curly had made a move yet.”

“Excuse me?”

They hadn’t – neither of them. In Evelyn’s case, it was because she was the Inquisitor, and that technically made her Cullen’s boss. It would be inappropriate if she…well. And he hadn’t because…well, she didn’t know why. But she was sure he had a very good reason.

“I’m curious.”

“Varric, if you’re writing a book about us, I swear-”

“Would I do that?”

“Yes.”

He chuckled. “Listen…there may or may not be gold on the matter.”

“On whether we’ll-”

“On when. There’s no if about it.”

“You’re betting on us?”

“Only within your inner circle – you have my word that beyond it, we’re all very professional and we dutifully pretend we have no idea what all of the talk is about.”

Evelyn groaned. “Who? You, obviously. Sera, I’m guessing. Probably Dorian, too, because he’s been very curious lately. Are there any others?”

“Just one.”

“Bull?”

“Nah, he won’t have anything to do with it. Unprofessional, unfair advantage, the whole deal. Although he did hint that he’d be open to advising bets if we sweetened the deal.”

“Blackwall?” she guessed.

“Please, he’d fall on his sword before he speculated on the infallible Inquisitor’s love life,” he shook his head, as if disappointed in her thinking.

“Who, then?”

“I think answering would put my life on the line.”

Only two people in Skyhold could have him saying such a thing, and Cassandra would never involve herself in something like this.

“Not Leliana?” she stared in disbelief.

The dwarf grinned.

“She had none of Bull’s qualms about unfair advantages. We had to add the condition that she wouldn’t use anything her spies saw or heard, but she still sees everything the rest of us don’t when that War Room door closes behind you.”

“Yes, because that’s the perfect setting for us to start stripping off,” she responded drily. “Leliana and Josephine could spectate. Offer constructive criticism – that sort of thing.”

“Now you really are giving me ideas for a book.”

“Varric.”

“I’m only teasing, Inquisitor. It’s good, you know. Seeing you get caught up in something not all about death, demons, and the end of the world for once.”

His tone took on such a tone of sincerity at the end that she found herself stunned into speechlessness – until finally, she breathed a quiet laugh and nodded.

“It is nice,” she admitted, albeit very quietly.

Even out here, in a garden full of guests vying to take the measure of her, along with hoping for a chance encounter that may lead them able to boast to their connections that they made Inquisitor Evelyn Trevelyan laugh with a clever joke, when she was off to one side trading glances with Cullen, she simply felt like a woman getting stupidly giddy because the man she liked smiled at her.

But, of course, the presence of the guests couldn’t be ignored for long. Varric had scarcely left her side for ten seconds before she was drawn into conversations that either treated her as an authority on the Maker’s will (which she found horrifying), saw her recounting her recent brush with death (again, she wasn’t a fan of that), or reciting what she’d learned of Skyhold’s origins and speculating on details of its architecture (which was…interesting, actually).

The sun had climbed high into the sky before she got a moment’s respite, bathing the gardens in golden light and warmth that should not have been possible this high in the mountains. It only added to the sense that there was something not entirely natural about this place. Whatever it was, though, it felt benevolent. Everything did, after the ruin of Haven.

She sought the shade under the gazebo, half-lamenting that she’d been too busy playing host to engage in more staring contests with Cullen – who was now woefully nowhere to be seen, perhaps having retreated to his tower after showing his face – when a hand touched her upper arm. Proper Inquisitor-appropriate smile already rising to her face, she turned and then felt the smile brightening and becoming sincere quite of its own volition. The man she’d just been thinking of stood beside her, holding a silver goblet of wine in offerance.

“You look like you could use it.”

“Not a fan of the ensemble Josephine and Leliana put together for me, then?” she teased lightly, accepting the wine and nodding her thanks.

“No! I mean yes, I…Maker’s breath- I didn’t mean…not that…” he trailed off, sighed, and then regarded her openly. “You look breathtaking, Evelyn.”

Her eyes widened before she could stop them, and he winced a little, folding his hands before her.

“I, er, apologise if that was too intense.”

“It wasn’t, Cullen,” she said quickly, “not at all. I was…thinking the same thing.”

Of course, then it was her turn to ramble nervously.

“About you, I mean – not myself. I’ll need a few more titles under my belt before I reach that point.”

He chuckled, his shoulders loosening as the nerves slipped away. “Well, should you reach that point I could hardly fault you for seeing things as they are.”

Evelyn smiled, ducking her head if only so that the rest of the garden wouldn’t see how she blushed.

“I actually came to see if you wouldn’t be too worn out to have dinner with me – later, after this. In my tower. I thought it might be a nice way to decompress.”

When she lifted her head, her cheeks still blazed, but she didn’t care.

“I’d love that. Maybe then I can ask you whether you’d rather Varric, Leliana, Sera, or Dorian won a hefty bag of gold.”

Although when she then realised she’d have to explain that remark, she did rather regret bringing it up in the first place.

Links: AO3 -- FF.net -- flufftober masterpost -- dividers by cafekitsune

#esta’s flufftober ‘23 fills #flufftober2023 #flufftober 2023 #flufftober #Cullen Rutherford/f!inquisitor #Cullen Rutherford/f!Trevelyan #Cullen Rutherford fic #dragon age fic #dragon age inquisition fic #dragon age fanfiction #dai fanfic

[warpedlegacy]

WIP Wednesday

Thanks for the tag @a11sha11fade! I’ve been making a great deal of progress on my post-Trespasser fic and having a ball figuring out the characters of Cullen’s siblings. Mia was the first to become fleshed out, so here is a little bit from the end of my most recent chapter from While Time Remains: 

“The Inquisition is over,” he confesses flatly. “Disbanded by official decree. Tess is no longer Inquisitor, and I am no longer the Commander of her army.” 

“Maker’s breath…” Mia raises a hand to her mouth as she contemplates all this could mean. “Start at the beginning.” 

He does. The full story takes most of the night to tell, and for once Cullen leaves nothing out. Not even the worst of it. Not even Kinloch Hold or the disasters of Kirkwall. Though it tears old wounds open afresh and leaves his heart bleeding on the table between them, he tells her. He owes Mia this much, for all her years of patient impatience. He’s finished dodging, finished running. He shares burdens heretofore only ever confessed to Tess, in the darkest recesses of their private sanctuaries of Skyhold. 

When at last he has finished, they’ve gone through most of the kettle of tea and a second bowl of stew each. Cullen waits quietly for Mia to collect her thoughts, and the house creaks around them. He feels wrung out, like day-old laundry. Turned inside out and left to dry. He wipes unshed tears away and takes in deep, steadying breaths. It smells of rosemary and root vegetables and lavender in the kitchen, and pine wafts in through the open windows. 

She’s shaken and pale by what he has told her, but where he’d feared pity or anger, he sees only love. Sadness too, yes, but mostly love. 

“I knew it was bad, the way you always dodged my questions, but…” She cuts herself off, leaning back to stare out the window. Crickets chirp and the house creaks. This has been home for her ever since their flight out of Honnleath, he recalls. That’s over a decade ago now. And all that time, what homes Cullen had managed to scrape out of his circumstances have been stripped away, one after the other. 

It will be good to feel settled again. Or… for the first time. 

“So what happens now?” she asks finally. 

He rubs his hands over his face, through his hair, then tilts his head up to the ceiling. “I wish I knew.” 

“Well, I hope it goes without saying, but you can both take your ease here for as long as you need.” 

“Thank you.” It means so much to him, this easy hospitality, and he wonders at how foreign a concept it’s become since first leaving home. 

But something has Theresa quietly terrified, he can tell. And he strongly suspects it has to do with the reason she's lost the Anchor. And the person behind it. He swallows the name like a bitter drink, before its taint can poison this moment. But it echoes through his mind anyway. The same question that’s been plaguing him since Halamshiral. 

Solas… What have you done to her?

Tagging @dreadfutures and @kantrips, but as always no pressure! <3

#wip wednesday #dai fanfic #cullen rutherford #mia rutherford #theresa trevelyan #while time remains #post-trespasser

[spainkitty]

WIP Whenever

Thanks to @greypetrel tagging me. I don't do art unfortunately, and I'm in the middle of travelling, so here's a "literally in the middle of and out of context" scene that I've been trying to finish on my phone notes app🤣 I figure you'd like the Dorian and Lanil interaction since we both hc the Dorian & f!Inky relationship nearly the same way 🥰

FOR IT IS FLEETING AU Chapter?? I think 6?

"We don't have time to argue who's made worse mistakes and who has less fault. I'm leaving for Therinfal Redoubt within the hour and hopefully I'll get there before this Elder One steals the templars out from under me, too. No one here wants that future to happen, do we?" Adaar said firmly. There was a series of denials around the table. "Then, I need at least one these factions to get to Haven to help me close the Breach. I'm sorry, Surana, that it can't be the mages, but they're beyond our reach now. I need the templars and you know it."

Lanil inhaled and exhaled roughly. "I know."

"Speaking of 'beyond our reach'," Dorian said smoothly, "I may be able to do something about that. At the very least, I intend to try."

"Explain yourself, Tevinter, and try to be a little less vague," the Seeker said.

"No one appreciates dramatic flair in this muddy country. Anyhow, despite the utter failure we've had so far tracking the Venatori, I still have some resources and leads that may yet bear fruit. If Felix survived the fight in Redcliffe, and I'm positive he did, he might have sent messages for me in a few locations. There is a chance, however minute, that I can find the Venatori's trail..."

"And the free mages with them," Lanil finished for him, eyes lighting up. Dorian smiled at her. "I'll come with you. If there's the smallest chance we can find Fiona, I have to come."

"Oh dear," Sister Leliana said, pressing her fingertips to her lips. "Do you think that's wise, Enchanter Surana?"

Lanil stared at her in confusion. Until Dorian recaptured her attention. He cupped her face in both his hands, gentle and soft, eyes glittering with a suspicious amount of mirth.

"My darling Lane," Dorian began. Lanil squinted warily up at him, some of her initial excitement abating. "I say this with all due respect and admiration for your numerous charms," Lanil snorted. Somewhere off to the side, Adaar laughed. "You are as subtle as a gurn and as quiet. You should never try to be a spy."

Lanil glowered as her ears overheated. Even her cheeks had begun to burn. "You can stop touching my face now. I get it. I'll stay here."

"Fantastic, darling, I knew you'd see it my way," Dorian said, patting her head like a dog. She obliged him by growling like a mabari and making him chuckle.

.

tagging: @sillyliterature @ketolic and anyone who wants to do the thing! For any fandom!

#WIP Whenever #i love being tagged #i feel like a real person not just a lurker lol #for it is fleeting AU #Lanil Surana #My 'What If my Inky stayed in the Circle instead of joining Clan Lavellan' AU #Lanil Surana (Lavellan) #Dorian Pavus #dai fanfic #kitty writes a thing