#mahinnah lavellan

[thursdaysshepard]

da4 is (somewhere?) around the corner so it's time to post a picture of my inquisitor again and hope he'll have at least a tiny part in the game

#val #i miss him #dragon age #dragon age: inquisition #mahinnah lavellan #captain's log #da4

[ferelden-loser]

Fireside - The Herald and the Inquisitor

Also available to read on Archive here! Please drop by to give us any thoughts or kudos, as it all means the world to us - http://archiveofourown.org/works/13799823

Written by @thursdaysshepard and myself, about our slightly canon-divergent characters Arahiel and Mahinnah Lavellan. Hopefully there will be more little doodles like this to come, sooner or later.

The clan they had found past the outskirts of the Exalted Plains was far more approachable than anyone had been expecting. Dalish here tended to keep to themselves, Mahinnah told the Inquisition. In a place so crowded with history, most of it tainted by anguish, many of the elves still couldn’t see beyond the ghosts of Orlais’ long-gone march. Bitterness lacing the infrequent transactions of elves and shemlens was not uncommon across the scarred landscape. In recent years fewer Dalish wandered the Plains in favor of lands with more profitable resources; those who stayed here were hardened, their trust not easily given.

It had taken months of careful approach to win the acceptance and eventual admiration of the clan. Small favors led to bigger endeavours in an effort to prove reliable. After a time, the approach of their party would be met with a welcoming gleam in the eye of the clan’s Keeper. There was little motive to their interactions, save for a chance to forge new connections where none had been in such a long while.

Mahinnah and Arahiel saw it was a chance to breathe easy among familiar settings for the first time in just over a year. The human’s Herald and their army’s Inquisitor were not regarded so highly in the beginning, but stilted honorifics gave way to softer adorations in the elvish tongue after a time. The clan wasn’t as large as the one they knew best, yet it still felt homely.

Some weeks after the final foray into the abandoned forts of the dead, the party were nursing new wounds around the Dalish campfire. The corpses they had fought were not the only concern. Bands of Freemen still roamed the Plains, apparently having nothing better to do than attack whatever and whoever they came across. A surprise ambush of eleven to four had left them all in a sour - but otherwise glad to be alive - mood.

Mahinnah takes a sweeping look around as he slips between the aravels. The sun is finally beginning to set overhead. A pleasant smell of something unidentifiable cooking in the near distance fills the air. At this point, it could be roast mabari and he’d still eat it.

“Lethallin.” he says quietly as he approaches Arahiel and the others around the fire. He sits gingery on the earth beside his clan mate, favoring his left shoulder. Healing magics from the Keeper here had taken most of the sting away but a dull ache lingered.

“Still won’t let you take that off?” he says, gesturing to Arahiel’s face with a poorly concealed smile. A bandage wrapped around the other’s head, covering most of one eye, definitely should not have looked as funny as it did, especially when the vision of Arahiel getting whacked in the face with a blunt club was fresh in his mind.

Arahiel hums, adjusting the wrapping where it’s clearly annoying him. “Awful lot of fuss over a little head wound. I’ve done worse to myself sparring. Still, it would have hit Varric if I hadn’t leapt in, heroically as always.”

“I appreciate it, Snowflake.” The dwarf himself replies, looking up from a letter in his lap, from the Merchant’s Guild probably, or one of Hawke’s other associates.

Arahiel shifts his gaze from Varric to Mahinnah, smiling warmly, even though only one eye is visible in the expression. “How’s your arm, da’len? Has the bruising gone down any?”

“Greatly,” he says, thankful. “It’s a shame Varric had to be the dwarf in distress, otherwise you could have leapt heroically in for my sake.”

Varric grunts in disapproval, though a smile flickers about his face in the firelight.

“I would argue our Inquisitor’s leap could be viewed as reckless,” Dorian says from the otherside of the circle. He sits with his staff across his lap, an assortment of books beside him. No one could quite gather where exactly they had been procured from.

“Then again,” he adds cheerily, “recklessness only adds to the odd charm you Southerners seem to have.”

Mahinnah rubs his arm, glancing away from Dorian’s not so discreet wink.

“You should be more careful, you know.” he says to Arahiel. His concern was not reproachful, but still plain to see.

“Don’t you worry, Hinnah. I’m made of sterner stuff than most - namely our squishy, though undoubtedly attractive, northern companion.” Arahiel replies, grinning back at Dorian playfully, “Besides, as long as there is a Herald to serve and an ancient blighted magister to overcome, I’ll be around. That’s what necromancy is for, after all.”

“I’d rather it didn’t come to that. After a while you’d start to smell dreadful.” Dorian says, cringing at the thought.

“And you wouldn’t be nearly as charming with half of your face starting to rot away, Inquisitor.” Varric chips in as he adjusts the reading glasses on the end of his nose.

Cassandra makes a quiet noise of disgust as she nears the fire. “Must you all be so morbid? I’d rather avoid conversation of death, even if only for a while. We did well today; we must remember that.”

“Our Lady Seeker is right, as always.” Arahiel agrees, smiling with delight as a blush fills her sharp cheeks. “We did very well indeed. The Freemen are starting to hold back. We’ll teach them not to mess with the Dalish, or the Inquisition. Or in our case - both.”

“I feel a little guilty.” Cassandra admits, “If I had been there to help—“

“Nonsense.” Arahiel insists, “We left you to defend the clan. You did just that, and quite impressively. The Keeper has assured me that they’ve never felt so safe, even surrounded by shems.”

He casts a mischievous look at Mahinnah; somehow referring to humans as shemlens to their face always gave him some kind of childish thrill, like cursing had done for them both as young boys.

“Easy,” Mahinnah leans in to whisper in elvish, his humor obvious. “Cassandra still takes some strange offense to that one.”

“Not so much anymore,” Dorian says with a lazy flip through the pages of one of his books.

In the odd silence that follows, Mahiannah stares, incredulous, across the circle.

“You’ve learned elven?”

“Learning,” Dorian corrects with a snort. “How else am I to keep up with Andraste’s Herald and Inquisitor in all their adventures if I can’t eavesdrop on their little private conversations?”

He leans up to accept a small bowl of steaming stew, offered by a younger elf. Amidst the small circles clustered throughout the camp other members of the clan were distributing dinner among themselves.

“I’m full of many marvelous and hidden talents,” Dorian adds, raising a brow as he takes a sip of the stew.

Mahinnah accepts two bowls for himself and Arahiel to the tune of Cassandra’s quiet, disgusted huff.

The conversation comes to a companionable lull as they each focus in on their food. The warmth seems to settle into Mahinnah’s skin, easing some of the soreness from earlier, and the taste is simple but familiar. After meetings with dukes and the associated feasts therein, or bare rations foraged from fruitless battlefields, he had begun to miss flavors like this, of home.

Around the camp the overall noise begins to fall as well. Everyone was enjoying the meal in earnest; save for two small figures at the edge of the furthest campfire, sequestered off in the fading light. Curious, Mahinnah gently bumps his arm against Arahiel’s, motioning in their direction.

A human or dwarf would perhaps have to squint in the dark to make out the figures, but elves with Ari and Hinnah’s keen eyes saw more than others. The two people are different in size on further examination; a mother and a child, it seems. The young boy, sits sniffing at his mother’s side as she strokes his hair, their still-steaming bowls of stew forgotten momentarily.

It is not immediately audible, but it soon becomes clear that the boy’s mother is humming a lullaby under her breath as she caresses her child’s head tenderly. The boy stops sniffing and leans into his mother where they sit away from the clan’s fire. As Arahiel and Mahinnah watch on, experiencing a strange familiarity from this exact scene, more mothers drift from the glow of the flames to the shadowy spot away from them. Following them are children, mostly young girls; daughters and sisters. That’s when the voices lift through the dark, reaching the ears of those seated at the fire in a haunting, soothing choir.

Arahiel goes rigid as Mahinnah’s body shrugs into relaxation, his head turning from the sight of the clan singing their soothing lullaby to the glowing embers at the base of the crackling fire. His uncovered brown eye stares, unseeing and unfocused, his mind lost in the rising voices of the clan.

Countless years, it seemed, had passed since they last heard that song. It was old, but not uncommon. Mahinnah could remember his own mother singing it to him during moments like these, past sunsets and calm nights he could no longer visualize with any perfect clarity. Nostalgia runs deep in the pained look he hides behind a quiet dip of his head. The ancient words come easily to his lips, but this moment doesn’t belong to him, and he restrains them in favor of listening without interruption.

Cassandra, Varric, and Dorian watch with interest, eyes narrowed as they peer through the evening dusk. Cassandra looks strangely touched as the chorus progresses, such a soft expression rarely seen on her features. Varric sits completely still, another rarity in itself. He faces away from the gathering, a curious smile barely visible in the low light.

Dorian stares neither at the clan nor towards the fire; he meets Mahinnah’s gaze instead, both wondering and reverent. On any other man, one might have called it humility.

It takes a long moment for him to look away.

“Ari.” Mahinnah says softly, the nickname almost unfamiliar for how long it had gone unused aloud, “I’d almost forgotten what that lullaby sounded like.”

“So had I.” he replies, barely more than a whisper, his focus still lost in the base of the fire. He no longer felt comfort from the warmth of its flames. Instead visions came to him - a sight he knows he could not remember, of burning aravels, the heat of vicious and unforgiving fire. The screaming and crying of innocent elves rattles around in his brain, and somewhere among it all, a woman’s voice that he is sure he knows echoing the self-same words of the lullaby, like a mourning spirit wailing over the site of a massacre.

Arahiel is overwhelmed by the sudden urge to get away, before this strange pseudo-memory consumed him. His stew flies from his lap as he suddenly stands and marches away. He has no direct goal from this point; nearby the rushing of a river calls to him. The water is shallow - the Plains have a longer dry season than most temperate areas in Orlais - but he wades in until the water laps at his knees, his bare feet consumed in the icy dark stream.

Voices call for him, urging him back, but he ignores them. Conflicting desire gnaws at him; one half of his brain clutches to these parts that he thinks is memory, and the other forces it away out of his reach, begging him not to go near, almost in the sound of Istimaethoriel’s own voice when she was younger, when she used to plead for Arahiel to concentrate or behave…

In frustration, Arahiel yells and kicks the water. The camp behind him falls silent. Many stare on at him, and he can feel the weight of their gaze on his back like the survivor’s guilt he had almost forgotten which now bares down on him all at once.

It is Cassandra who reacts first, rising from the fire, her own stew forgotten and going cold at her feet. Across the way Mahinnah sees her fingers flicker instinctively towards her side where a sword is not currently present, as if the cool touch of a weapon would allow her some means to fix whatever is wrong. He is familiar with the feeling, as unproductive as it might currently be.

One or two murmured conversations begin to pick up as he stands, holding a placating hand out towards the Seeker. She looks to the lone figure in the water. Confusion echoes through her and in the faces of their other companions, but neither Varric nor Dorian speak.

After a brief moment of hesitation Cassandra nods and stiffly takes her seat once more, abiding by Mahinnah’s silent request. He mouths a brief ma serannas and begins to pick his way across the landscape towards the water glinting in the rising moonlight. Behind him, he hears the lullaby pick up once more, fainter this time.

Arahiel is still, unmoving as the statues that loom over old Chantry sites in the Emprise. Mahinnah wades through the gentle current to stand beside him, shutting out any lingering eyes of the others following his progress.

“Lethallin?”

“I’m sorry.” Arahiel murmurs, and it’s not immediately clear even to himself if he means those words for Mahinnah. As he turns, his attempt at an embarrassed smile is tampered by the fact that it does not meet his unwounded eye. He drops his head and stares at the ripples around their ankles. They bump and glide over one another, making room for each other. Much like he and the other elf at his side. Accommodating, part of the same whole. It restored the sense of belonging he had lost for a moment.

“It was too much.” he admits as he continues in a lower voice than his apology, so only Mahinnah can hear him. “We used to hear it as children, I know, which ought to have been a good memory. But there was something else, a different version underneath it all. And that, with the fire, and the fighting today, it was just…. too much.”

Arahiel glances up, focusing on his companion now, his expression drawn into a confused and frustrated frown.

“I thought I heard her voice, Hinnah. I thought… I thought I heard my mother. My real mother, from before the Lavellan clan found me. Perhaps it’s because the Veil is thin here, but that’s never happened before. It scared me, lethallin.”

How could you hear what you hadn’t ever known, Mahinnah thinks, but doesn’t dare speak it. Arahiel was a Lavellan in everything but birth and the topic had gone largely undiscussed for most of their lives. There wasn’t anything to discuss, really. Most clans adopted city elves and foreigners often enough for it to become widely accepted without question. Few had circumstances as strange as Arahiel’s, however.

“It’s possible you could have.” he says thoughtfully. “What we know of the Veil encompasses very little of what we could hope to understand.”

He pauses, choosing his words carefully. “What exactly did you hear?”

“Screams.” Arahiel says bluntly, once again not meeting Mahinnah’s eyes, “”The crackling of fire, but not from the camp. I saw burning aravels -- I felt the heat of them on my face. And over all that, just audible in the chaos, a woman’s voice, and that lullaby.”

It sounds ridiculous, he is well aware. After all, even if it was because of some sort of connection to the Fade, Mahinnah was the one with the Anchor. It’s true that Arahiel had felt more connected to the other side of the Veil than he had been aware of before the Conclave, but that didn’t explain his visions. Perhaps he was just tired. The day had been stressful for everyone, for a multitude of reasons. Perhaps it would be best if he just called it a night, settled into his tent to sleep, and see if the vision lingered on him come the morning.

“Solas or Dorian might have a better answer than I.” Mahinnah offers after a long moment of silence. Nothing was worse than the sensation of helplessness, especially when concerning someone close, but he truly could offer little explanation. Shouts through imaginary fire were clouding his conscious. If he listened hard enough, perhaps he would hear the lullaby too.

“I know that probably isn’t helpful,” he adds with a weak smile. “We could always leave in the morning, if you wished? Or now, in fact. The others could catch up with us tomorrow. Unless you’d fancy to see shems blindly following us in the dark?”

Arahiel turns over his shoulder to their friends, who are trying their best - and failing - to not seem as though they are watching on with concern. The frown lines fade from his brow and his expression is replaced with one of amused and grateful appreciation for their fellows. Cassandra had not always looked kindly upon the two of them, but she had grown into a close companion over time. Varric had hit it off with them right away. And then there was the mage Dorian - Mahinnah had found love in this charismatic man, and Arahiel himself a good friend as well.

“No, we’ll stay the night. It’s been a tough mission for everyone. I’ll be alright, da’len.”

He pats Mahinnah reassuringly on the shoulder and leads them both back to the fireside, clearly wearied by his experience but determined as ever to not let the cracks show. They knew the stakes placed on them; any sign of fragility or weakness, even in front of those who did not believe that they were chosen such as the Dalish, could affect the strength of the Inquisition as a symbol for all in times like these. They had to maintain strength and determination, and the dedication of the Inquisition would follow. In time, they might come to believe it of themselves too.

#arahiel lavellan #mahinnah lavellan #arahiel and mahinnah #the herald and the inquisitor #herald of andraste #the inquisitor #my ocs #ocs #dalish inquisitor #dai #inquisition #dragon age #lee #zeke #wildredrose14

[sakurabunnie]

Presenting the 2017 Pumpkinquisition!!! ✧⁺⸜(●′▾‵●)⸝⁺✧

From Left to Right: Hal Lavellan, Cassius Viresse, Aura Trevelyan, Hadiden Lavellan, Maxwell Trevelyan, Soli Humael, Desmond Hawke, and Hinnah Lavellan!

@laskulls, @ventures-through-thedas, @hobbithase, @writingfromdaughterofathena, @lightofrebellionxx, @stumblingsbalderdash, @thursdaysshepard

2016 Pumpkinquisition

#bunnie's art #pumpkinquistion 2017 #maxwell trevelyan #mahinnah lavellan #desmond hawke #cassius viresse #hadiden lavellan #aura trevelyan #mahalen lavellan #soli humael #i hope you guys like your pumpkins! :3c #the vallaslin was very hard so i took some artistic liberties. ^_^;;;;

[dartheames]

Dark Side claims another victim today! This is @thursdaysshepard‘s Hinnah Lavellan as my favorite magical burning fox Braixen (because I’m a hopeless Pokemon nerd and you gave me a go with it :D )

I hope you like it :)

(Send me a request of your OC and I’ll draw them~)

#mahinnah lavellan #my art #dartheames art #I love mLavellans so much I should draw him again

[thursdaysshepard]

havent posted any screenshots of him in a while ✨✨

#mahinnah lavellan #i miss this boy honestly???? #gotta write about him more #da:i #lee talks #poppy #look at that face

[thursdaysshepard]

a big thanks to @ferelden-loser for making this KICKASS dnd starter stat chart for mahinnah!!

#its v cool so now everyone has to witness it #da:i #mahinnah lavellan #d&d #ctl talks

[thursdaysshepard]

“You are terribly dull, and I hate you.”

a moodboard for mahinnah lavellan and dorian pavus ★

#lee talks #da:i #moodboards #dorian pavus #mahinnah lavellan #poppy #probs gonna delete this in like two minutes kajhgadg #m!lavellan

[thursdaysshepard]

8 and 17 for Hinnah, 6 and 13 for Hera, and 3 and 29 for Caspir!

thanks for asking friend!!

these questions come from this ask meme here!

For Hinnah:

8. Do complex puzzles intrigue or frustrate them?

Complex puzzles intrigue him up to a point. If he expends as much energy as he can (or is willing) to on a puzzle and it still isn’t anywhere near solved, he tends to get agitated and give up, only to come back to it the next day. He’ll tell you that 99 percent of the puzzles he’s solved, either little nick knacks or real world situations, have been solved out of pure spite.

17. Do they like children?

He does, although he’s never really wanted any of his own. I’ve grown fond of imagining that children are just drawn to him and he doesn’t really understand why? He can be sitting by himself at Skyhold with a book under the sun, and after a time a tiny little elf kid, either the offspring of a refugee or an orphan someone picked up along the way, would inevitably end up hovering near him. They always ask for stories of his travels or who he’s met, and when one child has multiplied into five or six, all eager and wide-eyed in a circle around him, people start taking notice and laughing at Hinnah’s bemused expression. Despite his confusion, he never complains. Eventually telling elven lore to these kids becomes a pleasantly distracting pastime from Corypheus’s impending threat. They always come away with daisy chains he’s made from the grass.

For Hera:

6. Who will they take advice from, no matter what it is? Who won’t they take advice from, no matter what it is?

Hera always takes advice from Cora, Vetra, or, amazingly enough, Lexi. Advice from Cora  and Vetra tends to be centered around more emotional problems and circumstances, while he goes to Lexi for things he needs an unbiased perspective for. He doesn’t know Lexi as well as he does the others, but knows he tends to think from his heart first and being able to bounce ideas off someone who does the opposite has kept him out of more trouble than he would admit.

He absolutely will not take advice from Drack. This says nothing about his friendship with Drack in itself, but after what the two only refer to as The Incident, Hera refuses to listen to most things Drack suggests purely on principle.

13. Name one thing their parents taught them.

Perseverance. If his mother’s spirit didn’t completely teach him through observation to keep his head up through what the world would throw at him, his father’s unyielding persistence in his own aspirations certainly did.

For Caspir: 

3. Ask them to describe their love interest.

Asking Cas to describe Asra would probably turn their entire mind into mush. Kind of like the human equivalent of a computer system facing an unknown error? Blank stare, frantically searching for the right words, faint blush, before clearing their throat and avoiding all eye contact. It’s rare that anything can make them embarrassed or truly nervous in social settings but trying to explain him to a stranger, or especially to someone who knew how much Cas loved him, would likely end in a lot of fidgeting and then a quick excuse.

Asra? What, haven’t you met him? I would have thought all of Vesuvia knew who he was by now, especially since he’s become entwined in the Countess’s investigation. Ah… Okay. His skin is a little darker than my own. His hair is whiter than the heat of the midday sun, always mussed; his eyes are the color of late spring lilacs. He can have the strangest way of speaking sometimes: it completely captures your attention, as if every other voice in the area is softened out by his own. He had his ears pierced once but forgot to put them back in for months, and I still tease him endlessly about it. He is… kind. Gentle, even when I think I don’t need him to be. Sly, where I first believed he wasn’t. He has been a constant as far back as I can recall, which isn’t very far at all. I’ve never felt truly in trouble whenever he’s around. Very few people call me Cas. He’s one out of two. 

He, ah… okay, I’ve… Sorry. I’m late for something?

29. What recurring dreams do they have?

There is a dream that returns every few weeks where Caspir finds Asra dead in a place in between worlds, only for his body to jolt back to life and tell them his death was all their fault. With the masquerade’s approach it has only increased in frequency. There’s a dream about flying over the desert, searching for water and finally finding an oasis about to run dry. And there is one about a pair of red eyes, always looking out from the dark, which Cas is about to strike out at right before they wake. 

#long post #ferelden-loser #looooong post #this readmore isn't gonna work on mobile sorry yall #have some character introspection through an ask meme #thanks for asking poppy! #lee talks #hera ryder #caspir halviana #mahinnah lavellan #da:i #me:a #the arcana

[thursdaysshepard]

it’s the Boi~

#woops sorry #have some mahinnah screenshots #long post #da:i #poppy #mahinnah lavellan #this is from the pc game #that runs at negative miles per hour on my computer #because inquisition's framerate is barely supported #but #he looks a lil better here #than he did on the ps4 version #mainly because i have no screenshots of him from ps4 from the beginning of the game

[thursdaysshepard]

mahinnah lavellan, done by nelmdraws, gifted by dartheames!

#im posting this again in a more rebloggable format without my feelings underneath lmao!! #because i want everyone to see it #and im gonna keep reblogging it until my thankfullness comes to an end which is never so!! #mahinnah lavellan #da:i #inquisitor #fanart #dragon age

[thursdaysshepard]

ive been thinking of ways to convey my gratitude for about 3 hours and all that i can come up with is incoherent babbling and some screeches

the amazing wonderful absolutely splendid @dartheames had this done by the mind blowingly talented @nelmdraws of my quizzie mahinnah to combat a string of bad weeks ive been having (and because theyre just the literal sweetest person) and let me tell you i havent stopped staring at it

its BEAUTIFUL AND GORGEOUS and every single detail is PERFECT you nailed the hair and expression and the scars!! there were real jesus tears guys im so thankful!!!! thank you so so so much!!!!!! im in awe!!

#like god i wish i could better convey how thankful i am #there are good people in this world!!!!!!!!!!!! #mahinnah lavellan #art #hinnah aesthetics #fave #my favorite thing ever #poppy #da:i #inquisitor lavellan #nelmdraws #male lavellan

[thursdaysshepard]

Mahinnah Lavellan Aesthetics

Based off this wonderful template

#i seriously can't concentrate on this homework #so #make moodboards instead?? #sounds about right #adgkjzhfg #mahinnah lavellan #hinnah aesthetics #i like how this turned out tho #poppy #da:i

[thursdaysshepard]

Solas( 2,4,5), Sera (1), Cole (1,2), and Dorian (1,2) for Mahinnah! :D

hey! thank you for asking!! :D

DA companion+quizzy asks (under the cut for some lengthy rambles):

Solas:

2. Did they agree with his opinions about spirits, that they were friends and trustworthy? If not, what did your inquisitor believe instead?

- Spirits were never a fearful topic to explore, and he appreciated Solas’s broad ideas and willingness to discuss mysteries of the Fade. However, he still couldn’t believe all of them were trustworthy even after Solas’s attempts at convincing. Some things in the Fade were better left alone.

4. Did your Inquisitor think of Solas as Fen’harel or did they continue to think of him as their companion, a friend, if he was one to them, even after discovering who he was?

- After the reveal Hinnah’s past opinions and feelings about Solas became so twisted up in everything he had once heard about Fen’harel. Separating the two was near impossible. He tried to continue and think of Solas as a friend, but next to someone thousands of years older and weary with experiences he could never share in, he felt disjointed and tiny, convincing himself the Inquisition had only ever been a gateway to Solas’s endgame. It was a strange kind of loss that left him angry for a long time.

5. What did they choose, stop Solas or attempt to redeem him, and what motivated their choice? Fear? Love?

- He chose redemption. Potentially having to kill Solas was never an option, even if, after all his other reasonings, some small, confused, afraid part of him still admired the wolf’s efforts his mother told him bedtime stories of. There had to be another way to restore Thedas, if only he could make him see. 

Sera:

1. What did your Inquisitor think about the Red Jenny organization? Did they choose to be apart of it?

- Mahinnah didn’t jump at the opportunity, per say, but he did try (fail) to contain a lot of excitement. For a while after the events in Trespasser, he was part of a small Red Jenny cluster in Orlais with no specific aim, before traveling to Tevinter to aid in breaking up slavery where he could. Sometimes Sera would join him out of the blue, popping up and starting a conversation as if they had just seen each other yesterday, and other times his efforts were his own. He kept in contact with a few trusted other Jennies he met along the way. Some of them recognized him. For the others, he made up increasingly ridiculous stories about how he lost the arm.

Cole:

1. Before Cole’s personal mission, how did your Inquisitor feel about him? Were they comfortable or uncomfortable around him?

- Hinnah took the side of the mages, so his introduction to Cole was not as personal as it would have been had he taken the templar route. It’s possible he could have been less wary regarding Cole’s presence if he had seen the boy’s kindness and unrelenting desire to help initially. Getting to know him was difficult, but Hinnah did his best to be gentle around him. He mostly saw Cole as a kind of starkly interesting background presence in the Inquisition, up until his origins and true nature of a spirit in a human’s body unraveled. He had never been uncomfortable around Cole to begin with, but after his personal quest he spent more time up above the tavern, having quiet conversations and listening when he needed to.

2. What did your Inquisitor think of Cole’s ability to see into people’s thoughts?

- It’s an odd thing, surely. Can all spirits do that? Then again, we’re not exactly certain what Cole is. Is it magic? I don’t necessarily mind, as long as he’s using it to help others. Perhaps this ability could help the Inquisition overall? Oh. No, no. Please tell me he’s not relating aloud what I just thought about Dorian, Creators, I take back everything, it’s not a useful skill and I hate it.

Dorian:

1. How does your Inquisitor feel about Tevinter? Did Dorian change their feelings at all about the Imperium?

- His feelings on Tevinter were mixed before meeting Dorian. He had always been fascinated by the culture and history, but their treatment of elves and the constant rumors and misconceptions colored his perspective. A changed outlook wasn’t something he actively fought against, however; negative perceptions grew softer the longer he knew Dorian, and began to understand Tevinter was something worth reviving.

2. How did your Inquisitor feel about the Necromancy specialization? Were they intrigued? Disgusted?

- More intrigued than anything. He understood it wasn’t the past souls of the dead coming back to reanimate the bodies, but rather spirits called down only temporarily to fight with them. Knowing your boyfriend could quite literally raise an army of the undead to assist them whenever he wants (and seeing those very much non-preserved undead alongside him) is something he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to.

#thank you again for asking!! #sakurabunnie #asks #long post #replies #lee talks #mahinnah lavellan #sorry if this readmore doesn't show up on mobile everyone #just j key your way past if you wanna #da:i #i checked it def doesn't show up on mobile #oops #sorry everyone

[thursdaysshepard]

“Tell me, Inquisitor. I’ve heard the stories, but I must know: what exactly did Andraste say to you in the Fade?”

“Not much regarding your Maker. Most notably, she told me anyone who has ever been cruel to an elf in their lifetime will die an early and quite fantastical death.”

[20 Orlesian nobles flee the room]

#look at this smol #this has been a shitpost #lee talks #sorry everyone #ignore this #mahinnah lavellan #da:i #poppy

[thursdaysshepard]

“Take moments of happiness where you can find them. The world will take the rest.”

#lee talks #my stuff #mahinnah lavellan #da:i #i loved this quest!!! #it was so cool!! #so have some screenshots #jaws of hakkon dlc

[thursdaysshepard]

“At least now no one will point and laugh” [Rivalry increases 500+]

#this has been a shitpost #i imagine hinnah would hate xenon #not because you know #hes 300 and basically a skeleton with like 30 apparent limbs? #but because he makes sarcastic comments and charges high prices #poppy #da:i #mahinnah lavellan