#my neighbor fen'harel

[timeladyjamie]

Ethyral/Ellana Lavellan - Dragon Age OC

NOTE: My Inquisitor is an Evanuris Goddess who is reborn into Clan Lavellan, becoming the future Inquisitor. She has no memories of her previous life and the whole story revolves around her slowly uncovering them. 

Character Name: Ethyral

Race / Class / Specialisation: Evanuris / Mage / Spirits

Evanuris Virtures: Goddess of Spirit & Grief (the last one being a mock towards her)

Gender: Female

Extras: Ethyral works with spirits & demons, having a personal tie to them and the Fade. She usually has a faint glow around her. She is the sister of Mythal. 

Love Interest: Fen’Harel/Solas

Codex Entry: “There are tales that Mythal, the Protector, goddess of motherhood and justice, had a sister. Although it is unknown if they were related or Mythal just decided to call her sister, not much is known about Ethyral. She is said to have been a friend to spirits and demons, inhabitants of the Fade, and might even be the reason for their existence. Hence her mantle, Goddess of Spirit. 

Her other mantle as Goddess of Grief more than likely comes after the betrayal of Fen’Harel, the Dread Wolf, who killed her sister and then imprisoned the rest of our gods away. If you hear a woman weeping, it is said to be Ethyral, who is crying not only for her loss, but your own. She won’t rest until she gets vengeance against the Dread Wolf.

Dalish clans view her with the same wariness as Fen’Harel, seeking to protect themselves and their kin from her omen of grief and loss. 

—From The Tale of Fen'Harel's Triumph, as told by Gisharel, Keeper of the Ralaferin clan of the Dalish elves

(if personal quest is done and her memories are returned)

“It seems the little bit of information the Dalish have on the Goddess Ethyral is almost right, but not entirely true either. She is the sister of Mythal, but her ties to Fen’Harel aren’t because of the supposed death of her sister by his hand. In fact, he wasn’t responsible for Mythal’s murder as previously believed. The ties between the Dread Wolf and Goddess of Spirit isn’t one born of vengeance and grief. They were lovers, working together to help set their people free. However, even the best intentions can end up going wrong, causing consequences not perceived or intended. “

— From Codex Entry: Ethyral, Goddess of Spirit 

What would their companion card look like?: Crying in her hands which are covered with blood. If her memories are recovered, it’s of her looking to the sky and glowing with spirits behind her and a tree blooming with life. Her lovers card is the same as the two except a wolf become present in them too.

Character Name: Ellana Lavellan 

Race / Class / Specialisation: Dalish Elf/ Mage/ Rift Mage

Gender: Female

Extras: Born with a glow around her. Despite growing up raised Dalish, she is drawn towards wanting to not only learn more about their heritage as elves, but to learn about spirits and the Fade. 

Love Interest: Fen’Harel/Solas

Codex Entry: “The Dalish are elves who refuse to live in human cities, where their people are exploited, having few rights. They choose to eke out an independent existence in the forests, attempting to keep the last remnants of their ancient culture alive.  Ellana is from Clan Lavellan, a group of Dalish who migrate around the perpetually feuding Free Marches. Ellana’s people travel along the borders of each city-state's territory, where Free March rulers will be less inclined to attack them, for fear of accidentally provoking neighboring cities.

Ellana manifested a talent for magic as a child. The clan's leader, Keeper Deshanna Istimaethoriel Lavellan, taught her how to control and hone her new powers. Ellana grew into a capable mage, far away from the eyes of the templars and mage Circles. When tension between the two factions erupted into warfare, spilling into the countryside, Clan Lavellan was forced to pick up and move. Ellana’s Keeper sent her to spy on the Conclave at Haven, as the outcome might determine the fate of her own clan.

- From Codex Entry: Lavellan, of the Dalish

(If personal quest is done and her memories are returned)

“Born to Clan Lavellan, Ellana proved to be exceptional from the start. Not only did she show a talent for magic, but she worked her way up in the ranks to become the First to the Keeper. Not long after, she became the Inquisitor of the Inquisition, and Herald of Andraste, we all know. Maybe it should have been questioned on more about the girl born with a glow around her?

So it shouldn’t have come as much of a shock when she discovered herself to be one of the Evanuris reborn as a Dalish. It now explains all the weird dreams and her ability to control the anchor upon her hand so well along with her desire to help the elven people.”

- From Codex Entry: Ellana Lavellan, of the Dalish

Personal quests: [Forgotten Memories in the Fade] It’s pretty much what happens in the Fade with the Inquisitor recovering her memories of how she got the anchor, but it also comes with her memories of her previous life as an Evanuris. 

Are they romanceable? Yes.

If they can be romanced and are not, will they begin a relationship / relationships with other character(s)? Yes. 

Who are they friendly with? Solas- She instantly felt a connection with him, and it wasn’t just because they are both elves. She can’t explain it, but she looks to him for guidance, wisdom and friendship. However, she wasn’t expecting to fall in love with the Elven Apostate. Solas knew who she really was from the start, his vheanan he thought he lost, and made it his goal to help her recover her memories. Although a part of him was hesitant to recover her memories because he felt she would be mad at him, feeling he left her behind, he knew he had to set things right with her at least.

But as for his goals with destroying the veil and this world....that is where their views differ. She doesn’t like the way there people are treated because of what happened and would love to return to Elvhenan to it’s former glory, but not at the cost of what happens to others in this world, especially the attachments she’s come to form here. After all, she is both Ethyral and Ellana. Solas understands this, but continues on with what he must, hoping she can make him change his mind about this world. 

In the end, they still greatly love each other and want to just be together, even if they must be apart again. The Dread Wolf watches her from a distance in her dreams and this time, she allows it. 

Cole – Cole is the other person who knew who she was from the start, but kept it a secret, as he did with Solas’ identity as Fen’Harel, although he would give her few hints here and there, remarking on her bright, warmth, gentle and unique nature. He wants to help her not only with her role/weight as Inquisitor, but because of the deep grief and despair she has hidden away in her soul, slumbering with forgotten memories. She’s lost her sister, home, family, lover and memories. It’s a lot of work, but Cole doesn’t mind it. It’s his purpose after all to help others and ease hurts.

Just like with Solas, she instantly clicked with Cole, welcoming the Spirit of Compassion. She thinks of him as a friend/family and enjoys being in his company. Sometimes she will do random acts of kindness for him, like spend time with him or ask if he is okay because he’s so busy looking out for everyone else. Cole appreciates the gesture and how she treats him as person. This doesn’t change, even when she uncovers her memories. He is constantly by her side once Solas leaves and works with her to help redeem him and ease the pain of his absence.

Cullen – She admires how he is both a soldier, but also gentle at the same time. She helps support him through not wanting to take lyrium anymore. He’s nice to come talk to at times, but he wouldn’t fully understand everything like Solas or Cole. If anything, Cullen is mostly her connection to the human world. 

Who do they dislike? Vivienne- Mostly because of her cold personality, and because she picks on Cole too. 

Sera- She actually doesn’t have too much of a problem with Sera. She understands her way of going about things and that she wants to help, but can’t condone her harsh methods, at least when it comes to beating someone to death, even if they were a noble. Plus she also doesn’t like how coldly she treats Cole when he tries to connect with Sera or just speaks. 

Opinions on mages / templars / how the world is going to shit? “

Something guaranteed to make them leave the party: She’s the Inquisitor...so no. She’s staying, no matter what. 

Cole’s reflection on their thoughts: “Grief. It hurts. It’s all my fault. Like a mirror with cracks in it. She is lost, but can’t understand why. Longing for home, for a wolf’s embrace.” 

Comment(s) on Mages:  She’s a mage herself, so of course she would support her own. However, she doesn’t condone Blood Mages and the harm they may cause. It gives all the rest of the mages a bad name. 

Comment(s) on Templars: She honestly doesn’t have much of an opinion on them. At least she hasn’t been around humans too often to form one. 

When looking for something: “Does anyone else have a strange feeling?”

When finding a campsite: “Hmm...this looks cozy. Let’s rest here.”

When they are low on Health: “I need back up!”

When they see a Dragon: “Oh, Mythal...please watch over us.”

Travel Banter with Canon Companions of your choice:

[ before her memories are fully recovered ] 

Cole: Her heart hurts. She thinks it’s her fault, but doesn’t understand why. The memories are foggy...and now it’s gone in the wind. Confusing like the woman.

Ellana/Ethyral: I have dreams of this woman who looks exactly like me.

Solas: What happens in the dreams?

Ellana/Ethyral: It’s hard to explain...

Cole: Crying over what she can never get back, just like a heartbroken howl from a wolf in the distance. It hurts. Longing. Agonizing grief. A knife through the chest, fading away. Boiling rage. 

Ellana/Ethyral: Uh...exactly, like that.

__________________________________

Solas: Do you perhaps think this woman can be a manifestation of your subconscious?

Ellana/Ethyral: I did think that at first. I even asked her if she was some spirit or demon I might have come across in the Fade. She said she was probably my conscious trying to help me with something important. 

Varric: That doesn’t sound too promising. 

Vivienne: It sounds like something a demon would say.

Solas: *sarcastic* Yes...maybe it’s just that. Of course that would usually be the first logical thought to something you don’t understand.

__________________________________

[ after uncovering her memories as Ethyral ] 

Ellana/Ethyral: *feeling a headache come on* Ouch....

Solas: Are you okay?

Cole: It’s all too loud, too bright, too much to handle. Can’t process. Wait.. you’ve gone quiet, Ella. There’s a wall. Why?

Ellana/Ethyral: I’m okay, Spirit of Compassion. I know who I am. I remember...everything. 

Solas: That’s...That’s good. 

Iron Bull: Okay, now let’s get out of here! I’m tired of this freaky shit!

__________________________________

Sera: Ya know, you’re starting to sound like it [Cole]. What exactly happened to you in the Fade?

Ellana/Ethyral: First off, his name is Cole and he is not an ‘it’. He is a Spirit of Compassion. Second, I know you can’t understand him, but he’s here to help and that makes him one of us now. 

#jamie's ocs #I FORGOT TO POST ABOU HER so I'm finally doing it :) #I'm getting into a Dragon Age mood again #dragon age oc

[blarfkey]

Writing Tag Game

I've been tagged by like ten people for this so thank you everyone who tagged me! @redinkofshame, @cartadwarfwithaheartofgold, @kunstpause Consider yourself tagged if you see it and like it.

How many works do you have on Ao3?

38!

What's your total Ao3 wordcount?

702,253. I would love for it to be more but I am a slow writer lol

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. Woodstock 83 --3480 Kudos

Xmen fic set after Apocalypse where Peter keeps getting these golden opportunities to tell Magneto/Erik that he's his son, and keeps chickening out at the last minute.

I know I wasn't the only one who walked out of that movie theater pissed that Peter came so close to admitting this secret since the previous movie and never did, so I wrote a fix it.

2. The Sun Will Shine When Morning Comes -- 2567 Kudos

The sequel to Woodstock 83, told in Magneto's POV where he's coming to terms with being a father while he cares for his sick son. This is probably my fav X-Men fic I've ever written because I loved having these two figure out what their father/son relationship would be like long after Peter has grown up and how Erik has wanted a child again but doesn't know how to process having one.

3. Jail Break -- 2488 kudos

The first Peter & Magneto fic I ever wrote and the first fic I ever published! This takes place post Days of Future Past and it shows how Magneto could have found out that Peter was his son and build that reluctant connection. Peter has a lot of freaking out about whether or not he wants to accept a supervillain as his father.

4. Clowns to the Left of Me, Jokers to the Right -- 2396 Kudos

The third part of the series Jail Break Started. For some reason this is the most popular one shot in the series. In it, Peter has a huge fight with Magneto and then gets kidnapped by The Bad Guys and doesn't think his dad will come bail him out. But of course he does! And murders everyone in the compound to do it.

5. Two Lonely Souls in a Fish Bowl -- 2361 Kudos

The direct sequel to Jail Break where Magneto keeps showing up in the dead of night to visit Peter as they both figure out how they want this weird parent relationship to be.

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Always! Even if it takes me a while. I love the interaction and I want people to feel noticed and appreciated.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

Um, i don't really like angst. I think it would be Spark Me Up for Xmen. Professor X/Magneto angst with my first ever written smut. It was a remix of another person's fic for an exchange and they had an angsty ending so I kept it.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

The last installment in the Jail Break/Come Together Series -- Shine On You Crazy Diamond. In it, Peter's little sister Wanda comes into her powers and they go through a lot of pain before she settles into them. It ends with Peter's mom coming to stay with them and her, Peter, Wanda, Erik, and Charles becoming one big family. I've had several people tell me it made them cry lol.

Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you've written?

I'll write something like a set of characters from one fandom in the set up/premise of another fandom/piece of media. Like Dear Fen'harel is a crossover of Dragon Age with an old book called Dear Daddy Long Legs. But I don't combine different universes of different fandoms, it's too weird for me and I can't buy into it.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

took over and finished. We have an AU in our plans but so many other fics keep getting in the way! Sort of? I wrote the first part of a Solas/Maria/Varric series that@cartadwarfwithaheartofgold

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I did receive a weird, angry message on one of my Xmen fics because they didn't like a fight that had happened between two characters but didn't read till the end to see it resolved so the bitched at me for the fact that the fight was mean? Which made no sense. But other than that, nope.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes! Though it's not as much as my non-smut. I didn't write smut for so many years because I didn't think I knew how. I tried to write some out a few years ago and kept it to myself until one of my tumblr friends read it and said it was really good! So shout out to @salexectria, you're the reason why I write and publish smut!

I write all kinds of smut, from dub con to vanilla, from f/f, m/m, and ace spectrum characters. Its all about the characters and what would fit them/the situation more than it is about a specific type of sex.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

If I have, I don't know about it.

What's your all time favourite ship?

Ummmmmm, that's hard. I don't think I have an all time favorite. I will say that Charles/Erik (Professor X/Magneto) was my first ever "otp" that I got completely obsessed with. Actually, I have never been that obsessed with another pairing. I write pairings that I enjoy or that I want to see a certain dynamic from, but that doesn't make them my favorite above all others.

I do really love Solas/Cadash and I prefer Solas rare pairs like Solas/Dorian, Solas/Cassandra, and Solas/Josephine over Solavellan.

What's a WIP you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

I will never not finish a WIP. I hate it when it happens, even though I know IRL gets in the way, but it's so frustrating for me as a reader. So I will finish all my fics. However, I am very slow and very busy so it may take a while.

What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue and character voice. I also am really good at developing friendships and platonic bonds or the slow burn get-to-know-you part of a romance. Apparently I write good smut, though its very hard for me lol.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Descriptions and transitions and pacing.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

The only thing that bothers me is if they never put in a translations somewhere and you have to just kind of guess. I don't care about reading something in another language and having a footnote or a note at the end of the chapter. I do it all the time in DF. I do think that putting "said in {insert language here}" is a bit of a cop out.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

The first ever fandom I wrote for and never published was Harry Potter at 13. I wrote a story about a muggle neighbor who had to emergency babysit the baby Weasleys and was shocked by the magic. But I tried to submit it to a website that only published fic by application and it didn't get in and I was like "whatever, I'll just read fic" and then didn't touch fanfic again until I was . . .24 or 25 lol. I mostly focused on my original fiction.

What's your favourite fic you've written?

I can't possibly have one favorite. I do really love my Peter fics, especially The Sun Will Shine When Morning Comes. I love my ACO fic with Apollo!Alkibiades. I love my Solas/Cassandra friendship fic Time Does Not Bring Relief. And I love Dear Fen'harel, of course, because it has so many things I wanted to change for Solavellan or didn't find, as well as a good analysis of myself and how I deal with anger and sorrow and homesickness, ect. through Ellana.

#asks #fanfic #writing #dear fenharel

[dragonageloree]

Elf

A humanoid race, elves are typically shorter than humans (though this has been mitigated slightly since Dragon Age: Origins) and have a slender, lithe build, larger eyes, and pointed ears. Long ago, the elves were the dominant race on Thedas, and their advanced civilization was based on nature, the Fade and magic. After the fall of their great city of Arlathan and the empire of Elvhenan, plunder by the Tevinter Imperium and the subsequent generations of slavery, the elves lost most of their cultural heritage and identity. They attempted to rebuild their society in the Dales, but after three centuries the Dales fell to one of the Chantry's Exalted Marches.

Since then, the elves have separated into two distinct groups: the Dalish, who choose to lead nomadic lives and strive to keep elven culture alive rather than submit, and the city elves, who live alongside humans, usually as impoverished outcasts, and have adopted many human customs. Many elves are still held as slaves within Tevinter, and many others have joined the Qunari in hopes for better lives. Overall, the elves are now a people associated with poverty, crime and barbarism, and are often used as scapegoats for humanity's difficulties. In Ancient Tevinter elves were called "rattus".[1] Modern humans use the racial slurs "knife ears," "slant-eared"[2] or, less cruelly, "rabbit."[3] Though most of the elven language has been lost, they once referred to themselves as "elvhen," which means "the People".

───────

In Dragon Age: Origins, elves are able to play all three classes, warrior, rogue and mage; an elven Warden can choose the Dalish elf, city elf or magi origin.

Racial benefits of elves: +2 Willpower, +2 magic

In Dragon Age: Inquisition, elves are able to take on the role of a Dalish Inquisitor.

Racial benefits of elves: +25% Ranged Defense against all ranged attacks, including magical projectiles[4]

History

Once, my people walked this land as gods. We worked magic that would blind you with its beauty. Now, we lurk in the deep forests and prepare for the next time you shemlendo something that upsets the balance of this world.—Felassan[5]

Pre-historical times

Elves were once a race of beautiful, ethereal immortals that originated from the Fade. They manifested into the material world and built their civilization on the earth. The Veil didn't exist and the Fade was considered to be the sky. Their civilization was unchallenged and had coexisted harmoniously with nature and spirits, and the elves have prospered for what looked to be an eternity.

However, this changed following the conclusion of an unknown war. The generals who fought in it gradually came to be revered as gods, becoming the Evanuris. The Evanuris were malevolent despots, they warred among themselves, enslaved their own kin and branded the slaves with the vallaslin, and committed unspeakable atrocities that overshadow even modern despots.

Solas (Fen'Harel) began a rebellion against the Evanuris after they had murdered Mythal (whom he was close to and considered the best of them) and began to threaten the world with their excesses. Unable to kill them and finding every alternative solution worse, Solas sealed the Evanuris away by creating the Veil, banishing the false-gods to suffer eternally for their sins, and sundering the physical world from the Fade.

However, though the elves and the world were effectively rid of the Evanuris, the creation of the Veil was catastrophic for Elvhenan and the People. The very foundation of their civilization had been tied to the presence of the Fade, including their immortality. When the Veil was created, their cities and structures crumbled, and the elves became mortal and began to age and die. By the time the Tevinter Imperium had conquered and enslaved them all centuries later, the elves were already severely diminished.

Recorded history and legends

Arlathan Forest

The "Crossroads": a wonder of the ancient elves

The elves of Thedas live no longer than humans, but elven legends state that this was not always the case. Once they were an immortal race and "magic came as easily to them as breathing" with some of their spells taking years to cast and echoing for decades in an unending symphony[6]. They lived in harmony with the natural world and worshipped a pantheon of their own gods. Their magic was able to accomplish seemingly impossible feats, such as the creation of the unique, Fade-like world of the "Crossroads" and the maintenance of the magical repository of Vir Dirthara.

Elven lore holds that the first shemlen (a term meaning "quick children" that was used by the ancient elves to describe the humans and denote their shorter lives[7]) they encountered were tribal people who came south from Par Vollen. The ancient elves grew friendly with humans, but soon discovered that breeding with humans produced only human babies, while exposure to the "quick children" caused the elves to quicken themselves. For the first time, elves began to age and die.[8]

An elven hunter carved by the ancients

In fear, the elves withdrew from human contact. Unfortunately, the human tribes gave way to the Tevinter Imperium, who, after the disappearance of many of their ambassadors and settlements, viewed the elves' isolation as hostility and declared war in -981 Ancient. Elvhenan, the elven homeland, was besieged for six years, but was invaded when the magisters used blood magic to sink the elves' capital city of Arlathan into the ground, never to be seen again. As a result, elven survivors were quickly enslaved and evidence of their culture was lost.[7] With the enslavement, all elves eventually quickened and their immortality was lost. The elven calendar, established with the formation of Arlathan, was banned by the Imperium. Although its existence is recognized by modern scholars outside of Tevinter, knowledge of how elves marked the passage of time beyond a few events is now forgotten.[9] The exact details of the war are lost to history, though artifacts found in Imperial ruins within the Brecilian Forest[10] suggest Elvhenan was looted or that some elves joined the Imperium bringing artifacts with them. The elves, however, believe Arlathan lost to the Imperium because their gods couldn't intervene, since they were sealed away by the seemingly treacherous Fen'Harel.

The elven hero Shartan

After generations of slavery, the elven slaves, under Shartan's leadership, were among the most fervent supporters of the prophetess Andraste's uprising against the Tevinter Imperium. Shartan and the elves fought alongside Andraste in her quest to depose the Tevinter magisters in 1020 TE,[9] and they were rewarded for their loyalty by being granted land in the Dales upon Andraste's victory. They called their journey to their new homeland the Long Walk. Many perished on the way, some even returned to Tevinter, but most continued the walk.[11]

Map of the Dales

In the Dales, the elves created a second elven homeland and began to restore the lost lore and culture of Elvhenan, including the worship of their elven gods. They built their first city, Halamshiral ("end of the journey"[11]), and isolated themselves from the humans. The borders were guarded by an order named the Emerald Knights.[12] For some years, humans loyal to Andraste's memory respected their elven allies. But over the generations, and as the Chant of Light and the religion of the Maker spread throughout the cities of their human neighbors as Drakon launched his Exalted Marches and established the Orlesian Empire[13], the diplomatic relationships between the Dales and humans soured, as the elves refused to convert and remained isolated. Human historians claim this hostility was compounded by the Dalish's inaction during the Second Blight. Humans claim the war with the elves began when a small elven raiding party attacked the nearby human town of Red Crossing in 2:9 Glory, leading to the Chantry eventually calling an Exalted March against the elves when they had captured Montsimmard and besieged Val Royeaux, claiming they had been attacked by the Dales.[9] The Dalish claim templars invaded the Dales after the elves kicked out Chantry missionaries from their sovereign territory because the elves refused to convert to the Andrastian faith.[14]

Written accounts from Din'an Hanin, the tomb of the Emerald Knights, suggest that there is some truth to both claims, that both sides were responsible for escalating hostilities between Orlais and the Dales.

As the Dales fell, the elves were forced to abandon their second homeland and have not had another since, and their culture was torn even further from them. Many elves accepted the terms of their human aggressors, going to live in alienages inside human cities and worshipping the Maker. Those elves who resisted became the nomadic Dalish, maintaining the worship of the elven gods and continuing their efforts to recover the lost culture of Elvhenan.[14]

As of 9:40 Dragon, any Chantry art in Orlais depicting elves has been destroyed save a single original mural of Shartanwith his ears docked, and a faithful copy at the University of Orlais.[15] Some modern Orlesian scholars have been asked to author treatises (in part to weaken Empress Celene) on how elves are little more than prey animals based on their "rabbit" ears and bestial intelligence, and that establishing a relationship with one is an insult to the Maker akin to laying with an animal.[16]

In the centuries following the fall of the Dales, some elves have been able to rise above their circumstances: most notably the Grey Warden Garahel, who slew the Archdemon Andoral and ended the Fourth Blight, as well as Briala (who can become the first Elven Marquise).

However, there is still a lot of progress to be made. Even modern-day Ferelden, for example, city elves are not allowed to bear arms.[17] In Orlais, may only carry blades the length of one's palm.[18] Alienage purges still occur regularly.[19]. Many elves are still enslaved in Tevinter, and many elves are often kidnapped, and are even voluntarily, sent to Tevinter to be sold into slavery, Fereldan elves were also considered chattel and bought and sold as property during the Orlesian occupation.[20] As a result, many elves that live in Qunari occupied lands have chosen to embrace the Qun in hopes for better lives, with many even being recruited to become Ben-Hassrath spies.

After the events of the Exalted Council in 9:44 Dragon, elves begin to stream from the Inquisition, their positions as servants, and even Dalish clans throughout the land, apparently to join the rebel god Fen'Harel.[21]

Culture

Alienage elves

“We are a free people, but that was not always so. Andraste, the Maker's prophet, freed us from the bonds of slavery. As our community grows, remember that our strength lies in our commitment to tradition and to each other.” ―Valendrian, Hahrenof the Denerim Alienage[22]

Alienages are closed communities of elves living in human cities, often walled off and found in the poorest, more crime-ridden parts of the city, while elves in villages lacking alienages make their home in barns or sheds. Their inhabitants are typically impoverished and survive by taking menial and unrewarding tasks or even begging. In the most desperate cases, they might leave the alienage and enter a life of crime, or sell themselves into slavery to support their families. They can join the Chantry, such as becoming a Templar, but this is rare and racial biases usually preclude it.[23]

Though overall treatment varies kingdom to kingdom, city elves are universally second-class citizens. Elves are, by law or prejudice, unable to join most organizations or hold decent jobs, and the law often turns a blind eye to their abuses. Slavery is still legal in the Tevinter Imperium and there's a lucrative demand for elven slaves along with servants for nobles. They are often seen as beautiful by humans despite their low status. In Ferelden, for example, the social position of elves as "Low Freemen" is comparable to that of prostitutes and criminals, though they may make a living as they can.[24]

Having been heavily discriminated by humans for so long, most city elves try to hold onto their remaining heritage. Artifacts from Arlathan like the vhenadahl (literally, "The Tree of the People") and an abiding deep pride in their close-knit communities bolster city elves trying to make ends meet in an otherwise hostile world. As such, elves that leave the alienage and try to enter human society are heavily looked down upon as "flat ears". Families that do try to leave alienages and live among humans will most likely be forced to return because of violence against them.[25]

Marriage is highly important for city elves; it is the rite of adulthood in elven communities and will often be prearranged in order for new blood to join an otherwise concentrated gene pool. The absolute worst thing an elf could do is marry or breed outside their race since only humans are born between elven and human unions; which is adverse for such limited communities that depends on each other and tradition for day-to-day survival.

Furthermore, their closer relationship can sometimes result in what are known as Elf-blooded children, of both human and elven parentage, though these children appear (and technically are) completely human.

Most city elves have adopted the faith of Andraste and the Maker, while some still pray to the Elven gods in secret due to the prohibition of the elven pantheon in Andrastian society[26].

Known alienages

Amaranthine Alienage[27]

Ansburg Alienage[28]

Denerim alienage, home of the City Elf Warden

Ghislain Alienage[29]

Gwaren Alienage[30]

Highever alienage, home of the City Elf Warden's fiancé Nelaros or Nesiara

Kirkwall alienage, Merrill's home

Minrathous alienage

Montfort Alienage[31]

Redcliffe Alienage[32]

Teraevyn alienage, in the Tevinter Imperium

Val Royeaux alienage, birthplace of Fiona; a cramped and overcrowded alienage of ten thousand with walls so high sunlight does not reach the vhenadahl until midday.[33]

Verchiel alienage[34]

Wycome alienage

Dalish elves

Dalish elves seek to recover, inherit and preserve the knowledge and sacred treasures of the two fallen kingdoms. They lead nomadic lives as a means of survival, wandering throughout Thedas. Due to the numerous threats they face from Andrastian humans, the Dalish are known to be wary and apprehensive of outsiders. Their clans date back to the ruling clans of the Dales and the Dalish themselves are their descendants.

Known Dalish clans

Yevven's clan was massacred by a Tal-Vashoth Saarebas.

Alerion, the clan Merrill was born into.

Ghilain, a clan that descends from Inquisitor Ameridan.

Lavellan, the elven Inquisitor's clan.

Ralaferin, whose Keeper is Elindra (formerly Gisharel), and whose First is Neria.[35]

Sabrae, the Dalish Warden's clan.

Tillahnnen, once headed by Keeper Ellathin[36]

Virnehn, the clan of Thelhen and Mihris.

Unnamed Velanna's clan.

Unnamed Yevven's clan.

Unnamed Zathrian's clan.

Unnamed Ariane's clan.

Unnamed clan that found young Loghain and Maric in the Korcari Wilds.

Unnamed Hawen's clan

Interaction between city and Dalish elves

An elf's lot in Thedas and in Chantry culture[37]

The Dalish elves and city elves in particular have a strange and bitter relationship, dating from the splitting of the People after the fall of the Dales. Some Dalish view their city brethren suspiciously and with pity as "flat-ears,"[33] culturally human elves who are no different "than their shemlen masters."[38] To some, they are seen as having given up on and forgotten their culture, and the hope is to teach these elves their past when a new homeland is founded.[39] Not all Dalish share this view of the city elves, however. [40] Some Dalish also hope that the two can learn from one another once they gain an autonomous homeland. [41]

On the other hand, some city elves see the Dalish as near-myths: strange and savage "wood elves"[42] living far from humans and preying upon the unwary;[43] and yet somehow noble, as well.[44] To others, the Dalish are seen as "savages", primitive elves who refuse to see the promise of the alienage, and live off the land in ways the average city elf could not.[45] Indeed, city elves who choose to leave or live beyond the Alienage are labeled "flat-ears" as well by their city kin[33], ironically similar to how some Dalish view the Andrastian elves, and subject to violence or resentment from other city elves.

And yet, for all this uncertainty, city and Dalish elves still interact positively now and then. For Alienage elves who seek to leave their home due to desperation, poverty or abuse, wandering Dalish clans are often seen as a sort of "last resort" haven. They are normally willing to take in a refugee from the cities and to largely refrain from attacking a city elf on the road[46], despite their uncertainty, and train them in the ways of their Creators and culture.[47] Similarly, Alienages may take in a Dalish elf who has broken with their clan voluntarily or involuntarily.[48]

Elven mages tend to be grouped to the Dalish mindset along with city elves.[49] This is particularly the case as they have turned not only their lives but their magic over to the human Chantry and Maker, and the Circle of Magi, with the Circles being implied to have played a role in the fall of the Dales. [50]

Elven language

The elven language, or Elvish, was largely lost when Elvhenan fell to civil war and its people eventually defeated and enslaved. When the elves settled their second homeland, the Dales, they aimed to restore their lost language and lore, but the Dales fell to an Exalted March. The Elvish of the Dragon Age is thus a fragmented remnant, a few words that are thrown into conversation rather than a working language used to conduct everyday life. The Dalish Elves, self-appointed custodians of the elven language and lore, use more Elvish than their City Elf brethren. Living among humans, the City Elves now retain only a few old Elvish words whose origin is almost forgotten, such as "shem"—derived from "shemlen", or "quickling", the old elven term for humans—and "Hahren"—the leader of an alienage, meaning "elder" in Elvish.

The Dalish have more of the language. They are more capable of forming whole phrases and sentences, but the language is still fragmented and largely incomplete despite their efforts. Da'len, which means "little child" and is typically used to address elves younger than oneself. Andaran atish'an, a phrase used for greeting to friends and fellow Dalish. Serannas is “thanks”, while ma serannas is "my thanks" or "many thanks". Aneth ara is an informal greeting often used among friends. Dareth shiral is a way of saying good-bye.

Notes

Alienage elf

The children of elves and any other race are not elven.[51] Elves and humans produce a human child, elves and dwarves produce dwarves etc. Such children may be referred to as "half-elf" or "half-breed" in a slanderous fashion, while the term "elf-blooded" is a legal distinction. Children between elves and dwarves are extremely rare due to the small number of surface dwarves, the innate low fertility of dwarves, and the elves' reclusive mating practices, all attribute to the increased difficulty in mating between the two races.[52]

When female elves become broodmothers, they produce shrieks and Emissaries .

Elves see better in the dark than humans, and their eyes glint like those of a cat in the dark. This is likely the result of an ocular structure called tapetum lucidum.[53][54] This ability is also shared by the dwarves; however, as dwarven eyes are never described as shining, likely for different reasons.[55]

Elves tend to be more susceptible in following the Qun than other races, which is considered a particular danger in the Tevinter Imperium. As spies for the Qunari they may go so far as to sell themselves back into slavery in order to move undetected through non-Qunari lands.[56]

Banter between Fenris and Varric Tethras in Dragon Age II reveals that elves are unable to grow facial hair.

Despite historic hostilities and long-lived defamation towards the elves, humans often find them to be beautiful and physically attractive, as explained by both Zevran Arainai and Leliana in dialogue.[57]

Trivia

Elves in Dragon Age: Inquisition

Unlike the elves of many other fantasy settings, the elves of the Dragon Age setting are not antagonistic towards the dwarves, though Zevran and Oghren's dialogue contains a joking reference to this fantasy trope.

The elves in Dragon Age II, as with other races, have been redesigned to create more space between the individual races.[58] The Dalish now feature Welsh and Irish accents (city elves retain the accent of whatever region they live in) and have been given tall, willowy frames and thin faces with large eyes, straight noses and small features, as opposed to being the "short, pointy-eared humans" in Dragon Age Origins. In Dragon Age: Inquisition, these changes have been reverted to a point, though elves still appear very distinct from humans, in particular in regards to ears, nose, eyes and body structure.

David Gaider stated that the Dalish elves were inspired by Northern Native Americans. [59] [60] He also revealed that the inspiration for Andrastian elves came from the Jewish people (i.e. lost homeland, ghettos, ect). [61]

It is unknown whether or not Dalish elves live longer than the city elves, since David Gaider and Mary Kirby have given conflicting information regarding their longevity.[62][63]

Though elves are much diminished from what they once were, they nevertheless retain an unusual connection to the Fade that makes them unfortunately useful as subjects in magical rituals.[64]

To many of the nations of Thedas, but especially Orlais and the Tevinter Imperium, elves--of common blood and as a rule without titles--are generally little respected. Using them as messengers or emissaries may actually be considered an insult.[65]

City elves participated in the Fereldan Rebellion under /the leadership of Loghain Mac Tir, in his Night Elves unit.[66]

Though seemingly impossible, ancient elves do exist in remote corners of Thedas by prolonging their lives via uthenera.[67]

Elven slaves were among the few who rallied to the fledgling order of Grey Wardens during the seemingly-endless First Blight. They offered ancient knowledge in the hopes of being freed by the Wardens after the defeat of Dumat, as well as being considered equals in the Order, and played a role in the creation of the Joining Ritual.[68]

#dragon age #dragon age origins #dragon age 2 #dragon age lore #dragon age inquisition #dai #dao #elf #elves #dalish

[typhonserpent]

“I’m good, I promise.” for any pairing?

I’m sorry what was that? An excuse to write about these OCs I’ve been neglecting? Well IF YOU INSIST…

If I hadn’t already written that lovely opening I would say this took place right before the events of Fire Under My Skin but whatever it’s not like Ivnar and Lady Bug only stole booze once in their lives …

Fandom: Dragon Age (gen)Pairing: OCs (Ivnar & Lady Bug)Rating: Teen (tw for implied self harm)

Send me a line and a pairing and I’ll do this for you too!

Lady Bug knew something was wrong before she even made it to Ivnar. She didn’t want to hover by the aravel, so she’d occupied herself with fletching arrows, figuring that she’d receive word as soon as Ivnar’s ceremony was done. She had a neat pile of five freshly polished arrow shafts next to her when Arwen walked past.

Now Arwen, the Keeper’s first, never walked. Lady Bug had no doubt in her mind that Arwen had been the highest nobility in a past life. Perhaps her ancestors in Elvhenan had been royalty. She could easily picture Arwen riding in a carriage pulled by shiny white halla, elegantly leaning out the window to wave at her subjects. Arwen strode, Arwen hovered, Arwen marched, Arwen put one foot in front of the other with purpose, she never walked like an exhausted hound returning to an empty food dish.

Bug shot to her feet, not stopping to dust off the back of her pants, and ran to the Keeper’s aravel. The curtain was parted, with only Keeper Sohon inside. Shaky, stiff fingers lifted his tools one by one and returned them to his box.

“Hey,” She stepped inside, and Sohon lifted his head and blinked wrinkle-framed, milky eyes at her. His smile was missing a few teeth.

“That was fast,” She continued, “Where’s Ivnar?”

“He was unprepared.”

“Huh? What’s-wait …” She trailed off, staring into space while realization slowly dawned on her. Sohon turned his attention back to his work table, picking up a bottle of ink and setting it in its proper place next to the needle and thread.

“I think I saw him go east when he left.” Sohon continued.

She ran her fingers through her hair, her breathing turning to a light pant. She blurted, “Ma serannas, Keeper.” before darting out of the aravel and running east.

Once away from the buzz of camp conversation, it wasn’t hard to find Ivnar. She followed the sound of thuds and thumps until she saw an elf with brown hair midway down his back, throwing rocks and branches and whatever else he could find at a tree stump. There were streaks of pale wood where he’d already managed to chip away old bark. He kicked it and a particularly large and jagged piece of wood broke away. He kicked it a few more times. It cracked, but held on.

“Ivnar?” Her voice was just above a whisper.

He swiveled, face pulled into a scowl, face red save for a tiny line of purple ink on his forehead, dotted with blood.

“Ah,” She sighed, running her fingers through her hair. She briefly touched the Vallaslin on her forehead. The thickest parts of it covered nearly half her face.

She’d never felt guilty for having it before now, “What happened?”

Ivnar turned back to the tree stump and returned to kicking it. “Stupid Sohon told stupid Arwen to stop stupid drawing the Vallaslin. I ask why, he says I’m not ready. How am I not ready? I did everything he told me to. Not like I’ve been preparing for this my whole stupid life! Stupid!” And with each word, he gave the innocent stump a firm kick, “Demented! Old! Man!” And finally, the loose piece of wood broke away with a loud crack, and rolled a few inches away.

“Did he say what he was going to do instead?”

Ivnar threw up his arms, “Try again later I guess!” He kicked the stump again, then yowled in pain, dropping unceremoniously onto his rump while clutching his foot. His second and third toes were bent at odd angles. He punched the ground and shouted, “FEN'HAREL FUCK IT ALL!”

Bug squeezed his shoulder and crouched behind him, “You know … taking out your anger on an innocent tree stump won’t exactly convince ‘em you’re an adult.”

He sniffed and wiped off his nose with the back of his hand. “Shut up.”She sat cross-legged across from him, and patted her lap until he set his foot there. He laid back, arms crossed, hair fanned wildly around his head.

“It’s not fair.” He grumbled.

“He didn’t say a thinng when I was gettin’ my vallaslin done. He even allowed to do that?”

“He is, technically, but-AH!” He shouted when she pinched one of the toes and yanked it back into place, “Watch it!”

“S'gotta happen.”

“He is technically allowed to stop it whenever he wants but that doesn’t mean he’s not an ass!”

“He had to have his reasons.” She yanked the other toe into place, eliciting another scream, “Maybe he saw you flinch or somethin’. I mean you can’t even handle me setting your toes.” She giggled, and withdrew a strip of leather from her pocket. She was originally going to cut it into strings for the arrows, but now …

“Shut up.” He sniffled and wiped his face with his sleeve. She wrapped the leather around his big toe and its neighbor and tied it tight, then sliced off the excess leather with her dagger.

“If you want we can sneak off tonight and steal some booze. I got no qualms about you smashing the bottles if it’ll let you blow of steam without hurting yourself.” She tied off the other toe, again anchoring it to the one next to it, and tucked the rest of the leather in on itself.

“Yeah, sure. We can do that.”

She stood, and held out a hand so he could hoist himself up on one foot. He set the weight down on his injured foot slowly, flinching when he finally put weight on it.

“You good?” She asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Hurts like the dread wolf’s bite, but I can walk.”

“No, I mean … you good? You’re not gonna hurt yourself again?”

“It was an accident!” He snapped, and she flinched, turning away from him. She pursed her lips, fighting the urge to shout in turn but knowing it wouldn’t help any. The regret sank into Ivnar’s face instantly.

“I’m sorry.” He sighed.

“Was just tryin'a help …”

“I know. I’m sorry. I won’t hurt myself again. I promise.” He slipped his hand into hers and squeezed. She returned her gaze to him, reaching her hand over to brush his hair behind his ear, and stopping a moment to cradle his cheek in her palm.

“Come on, let’s go back to the camp.” She said.

#hey typhon why don't you write good characters? #I don't wanna write good characters I wanna write walking dumpster fires #typhon writes #fanfic #fanfiction #clan suledin #ivnar suledin #lady bug suledin #sohon suledin #tw #self harm mention #self harm implication

[izzym-art]

thevikingwoman replied to your photo: Fen’Harel Inspired by this fanfic. Warning: it’s...

Saera you tags made me crack up ;). No judgement lol. You might also enjoy their fic My Neighbor Fen'Harel and the companion My Neighbor Lavellan.

@thevikingwoman BWAHAHAHA thank you! XD I’ll add it to my list! I’m very picky about what I read, but I’ll give it a go :D thank you!

#Saera banters #thevikingwoman

[love-in-nature]

My Neighbor Fen’harel Chapter 12: Confusion

Read from the beginning on my AO3.

I work all day tomorrow so you all get this a day early ;).  

There are two lines in here that will need translating.  The first in Tevene is Dorian saying, you’ll be the death of me.  To this Emmy responds in Elvhen telling him to shove a tree up his ass.  A bit extreme maybe, but she is having a day haha.

Thank you as always to my incredible beta @happiness-is-sebstan

Emmy shifted, soft sheets slipping down her skin as she cuddled deeper into the hard warmth next to her.  A familiar, comforting scent filled her nostrils and she inhaled deeply.  Her lips parted to release a contented sigh, fingers shifting to brush against warm skin, over lean muscle and broad shoulders.

Her eyes fluttered open and she had to work not to jerk back as awareness suddenly hit her.  In response, Solas’ fingers pressed more firmly into the skin of her back and where they were tangled in her hair.  She froze, keeping her hand flat on his chest so she could measure the easy rise and fall of his breath.

Several seconds passed while she worked to clear her panicked mind.  She was in his bed now, he must have carried her there at some point, but she was still wearing her dress.  If she was quiet, she could sneak out and make it to her apartment without waking him.

She ‘d already decided not to hold him to what he’d said mid-coitus.  People said all sorts of things they didn’t mean during sex.  Lust filled musings that you came to regret the next morning, like her impossible thought that she was still in love with him. It was absurd. She couldn’t be.  It was just her body messing with her brain.  If she let it continue it would only lead her down a path she wasn’t ready travel.

Emmy eased herself carefully out of his arms, taking care to jostle him as little as possible.  In the dim light of the moon, she could see his frown as he released a sigh of complaint in the back of his throat, but he didn’t wake.

With careful steps, she snuck to the door.  Her heart was pounding so loud in her ears she was surprised it didn’t wake him.  When she reached the door of his bedroom, she couldn’t help glancing back at him.  He was all long limbs, his arms now hugging the pillow she had been using, the tip of one ear visible from where he’d buried his face in the fabric.

It didn’t matter that his face was hidden from her, body bundled under sheets so all she could see was his silhouette.  In her mind, he was clear as day and a new, more painful thought struck her, one she couldn’t explain away with the heat of sex—she hadn’t fallen in love with him again tonight; she’d never fallen out of love with him to begin with.

Her fingers dug into the wood of his door frame.  For a beat she thought of how easy it would be to go back to him.  To slide back under those covers and bury herself against his body.  It would be easy, just for tonight, but then what?  She needed to think because the truth was, she still didn’t trust him. Not after what he’d done.

As she turned to sneak out, something caught in her throat, guilt heavy in her stomach.  Sneaking out while he was asleep felt worse somehow than if she’d just left immediately after.  Despite the rock in her stomach she was desperate to get out.  She needed to breath, and to try and think clearly.  She could do neither in this place where everything was him.

She snuck her way out of his apartment, then practically ran the few feet to hers.  She shut the door quickly, bolted it, and then pressed her back to the door before sliding to the floor.

Something furry knocked against her hip.  She reached her hand out absently to pet along Darcy’s soft fur.  He let out a low meow before head-butting her again.

“I messed up,” she told the cat.

Another meow, another head butt.

“Easy for you to say.  You’re lucky, you don’t have to deal with all this.”

This time he nipped her finger.

“Ouch! You little punk ass.”  She scooped him up and hugged him tight to her as he let out a plaintive cry at the forced cuddling, “Tough luck bud.  This is punishment for your attitude.  You’re just gonna have to cuddle with me now.”

An hour later she was naked in her bed, staring up at the ceiling and feeling cold despite Darcy’s heat at her hip.  She sighed deeply and wiggled out from under the covers, toes touching the cool floor as she sat there with her fingers digging into the edge of her mattress.  For a few moments she just stayed like that, eyes shut.

When she opened them again, the first thing they fell on was her discarded dress.  A little pool of crimson in the moonlight.  She stood and reached down to scoop up the material and bundle it into a tight ball.  Then she strode into the kitchen, opened her trash bin, and dumped it inside.

After staring at the trash bin longer than was reasonable for any sane person, she went to the couch and grabbed her laptop. She did something she hadn’t done in years: she opened her e-mail and wrote to Fen’harel about Solas.

She told him everything, everything but the details of their lovemaking.  She opened up entirely, feeling exposed to this man she’d never even met.  It was the only part of her she hadn’t shared.  Now she shared all of it, from the very start on that first fateful day in his class, to the very end where he’d disappeared without a word after they’d made love.

She wrote what she remembered. She wrote everything, because she remembered everything, every detail and word. She hoped that putting it all down would be like sucking venom from a wound, finally expelling it from her heart and mind.  If she could just pull it all out, finally stop holding everything in, then maybe the pain, the feelings of betrayal, and the aching loneliness would stop. All she wanted was to live her life in relative peace.

When she reached the part about what had happened tonight, what she’d done, she paused. She simply stared at the screen for several minutes.  Then she took a deep breath and finished the story, all of it.  What did it matter now?  Fen’harel had said he no longer wanted to speak with her.  He probably wouldn’t even read this.  She just needed to get it out.

She ended it with, “It was just sex.  Dorian said revenge and I guess… now that I’ve written it all out, his thinking makes such sense.  I admit maybe I wanted to hurt Solas, just a little, after all that had happened to me after he vanished.  I didn’t mean for it to go that far.  I didn’t mean for it to make me feel again, to make me realize how madly I still loved him.  I’ve messed up and I don’t know where to go now.”

She paused, took another deep breath, and deleted all of what she’d just written.  Instead, she ended with an apology for dumping all this on him when he had said he wanted to stop communication.  That she wouldn’t bother him again, but that she was grateful for all the correspondence they had shared, that maybe in another world they would have been able to know each other truly.  That maybe they could have been more than just… whatever this was.

Before she could think better of it, she hit SEND and shut the laptop.  She put the laptop back on her coffee table then went back to bed and attempted to sleep.  Sleep, however, proved to be annoyingly elusive.  Her thoughts and emotions raged in a million different directions, keeping her up with the chaos in her mind.  When the first rays of morning snuck onto her bedspread, she got up and dressed in a haze.  An hour later she’d somehow made it to work and into her office.

Once there, she had a few hours of peace.  The onslaught of e-mails and cataloging that needed doing kept her mind blissfully busy as she downed mugs of coffee.  She’d known she’d need it, so she’d just brought the whole coffee pot in.  Merrill was a tea drinker so Emmy didn’t feel like she was depriving anyone of their fix.

As she was going over another e-mail about an upcoming auction asking for her attendance, she reached for her mug only to find it empty.  With her eyes still on the computer screen, she felt around the surface of her desk for the space she’d left the coffee pot.  Her hand fumbled about for a moment before her brows knit in irritation at the suddenly empty space.

“Did you really drink this entire pot yourself?”

Her eyes rose to find Dorian with his hip leaning against her desk.  In one hand he held her kidnapped coffee, swirling it as he looked at her with eyebrows raised.

“You know that is bad for you right?  You keep up this pace you’re going to give yourself heart palpitations.”

She frowned, “I haven’t drunk the entire pot.  There is at least half a cup still left in there, so give it back so I can finish it up.  Then you can lecture me properly.”

He shifted and turned so he could place it on the opposite side of her desk, well beyond her reach.  Then he turned back to her and said with a forced nonchalance, “Didn’t get much sleep last night?”

She frowned. “Nope.”  Then she stood to reach out and grab the pot, but Dorian got to it first, once more lifting it away from her.  Her frown deepened. “What now, Dorian?”

“Don’t, ‘what now’ me.  You know precisely why I’m here.”

She made her face neutral, “Because you want to die?”

His eyes widened in mock terror and he pulled further away from her, “That’s a bit extreme for coffee.”

She rolled her eyes before forcing a bright smile.  “Hi, my name is Emmy.  I don’t believe we’ve met.”

Then she let her smile drop.  She held out her hand, fingers wiggling in a “hand it over” gesture.

Dorian sighed a deep weary sigh but relinquished his hostage. “I’m only trying to prevent your early demise.” Then he mumbled, “though I can’t remember why at this moment.”

“Because I’m so sweet I make your teeth ache.”

“Is that why?  I don’t believe I was thinking that at all.  Although, speaking of,” He tapped his fingers on her desk, “You either did something wonderful to our bald professor or something terribly wicked.  Perhaps both, now that I think of it.”

She startled, looking up at him from her pouring, “What are--”

“Coffee.”

She looked down to find that she’d shifted in her surprise and was now pouring coffee, unceremoniously, onto her desk.  Quickly she stopped and slammed the pot down to the side.

“Motherfucker.”

“Or Professor Fucker, perhaps?”

She spoke as she shuffled through her drawers to find paper towels, “Dorian, you--”

“I did nothing.  I believe it is you that did something.”

She found the paper towels and went to work trying to dab the coffee up before it soaked more of her papers.

Dorian watched as he added, “Unless you want to ease my worry and tell me you didn’t, in fact, go through with your plans.”

She kept her focus intent on the clean-up, “I went.”

He released a deep, bone-weary sigh, then growled out, “Festis bei umo canavarum.” 

In response she mumbled, “Lasa adahl su nar masa.”

“Now that is unfair, what did you just say?”

“Nothing.”

There was blissful silence for a while as Dorian pouted.  Emmy continued cleaning up the coffee spill, until she’d gone over the same spot twenty times.  Dorian reached out and put his hand over her wrist.

“Emmy, what happened?”

Her eyes stayed on her hands.  She remembered starkly how Solas had felt beneath her fingers, what his fingers had felt like on her skin.  The look of his hands, long, masculine.  How they’d clung to her, even the morning after.  Imprints still left on her skin.

She swallowed, straightened her shoulders and pulled her wrist from Dorian’s hands.  She crumbled the paper towels in her fist, turning to toss them in her waste bin. “I told you.  I went.  We had sex.  I left.  End of story.”

“That is… not what I expected.”

She sighed, “You knew the plan.  I went with the plan.”

“I didn’t think you would.  You’re--” He took a breath. “I saw him this morning.  Went to his office to ask him something.  He was withdrawn.  No snark.  I even took a book from his shelf, asked if I could borrow it.  Do you know what he said?”

She moved to sit back down in her chair, shuffling papers she wasn’t actually looking at, “I’ve no idea.”

“He said, ‘As you wish.’”

“So?”

“There was no ‘Why do you want it, Dorian?’  No, ‘Bring it back by this time, Dorian.’  No, ‘Don’t do this or that with it, Dorian.’”

She took a deep breath, “What’s your point?”

“He is upset.  I didn’t know he could be.  To be honest, I’d not thought anything could faze the man, but right now... this is more emotion then I have seen from him the entire time I’ve known him.  Whatever happened, he has really---”

She stood up with such force her chair banged against the cabinet behind her.  Her hands pushed into the wood of her desk as she growled out, “He’s upset!?  We had sex and I left him to go back to my apartment right next door.  He knows I’m alive.  He knows I’m okay and that I’m near.  When he left me after we’d been together, without a word, it was for two fucking years.  It would have been longer if coincidence hadn’t landed me here.  I didn’t know if he was dead or alive.  I didn’t know what I did or if any of it meant shit to him.  He kept away even after…”  Her voice trailed off and she took several deep breaths.

Dorian spoke, “It’s alright to still be angry with him, you know, but you should try talking to him about it.  It’s clear the man---”

“Please don’t.”  She looked up to Dorian, feeling the corners of her eyes prick, “I can’t right now.  I’m sorry I snapped at you.  You were right before, I shouldn’t have slept with him, but I did.  Now I just need time to think.”

“I’m always here for you, Emmy.  I only,” He paused. “You deserve to be happy.  That’s why I pester you. You know that, yes?”

She took yet another deep breath, “I know Dorian and I do appreciate that you care.”

Dorian gave her a nod and then headed out the door, shutting it quietly behind him.  The moment it closed she slumped back into her chair, letting her head fall to rest on the cool wood of the desk.

For a few moments she remained that way.  She allowed herself to try to think about what had happened.  It was obvious she was still mad.  Though she’d moved on, the hurt had never truly healed.  It had simply scabbed over, and the moment he had shown up, it was ripped open again.

Despite the anger, she was still in love with him and part of her wanted to believe what Dorian seemed to.  That same part of her wanted to believe what he had said the previous night.  She wanted to believe that he wouldn’t leave her, that he wanted to know her again, that maybe he even loved her a bit.  That part of her was an idiot.  After what he did she should never want to see him again.

And yet…

Her fingers clenched and unclenched repetitively, a habit she had picked up from Solas when uncertainty struck her.  Realizing this, she forced her fingers closed into fists.

Right now, her mind and emotions were warring.

Half of her was shouting that obviously he had feelings.  He was hurt by her leaving, or Dorian was sure he was.  He had been so passionate the night before.  His words about wanting to do whatever he had done a million times over to have her again, rang in her head like a chorus.  The way he had held her, kissed her, worshipped her, and then clung to her the next day.  How he had been trying to apologize, to prove himself again even before she’d slept with him.

The other half of her kept reminding her that she had thought they had something before too.  All those years ago, she’d loved him madly.  He was the first man, the only man, she had considered spend a lifetime with.  She thought he’d loved her, or something very close to it, and then… poof, gone.  What if this was just that all over again and she hadn’t made any progress from the naive idiot she’d been then?

Emmy groaned and hit her head on the desk a couple times.  This was going nowhere right now.  She needed to actually do some of what she was being paid to do instead of just warring with herself.  She gave one last knock of her head and then straightened, cracked her knuckles, and forced her mind back to work.

After the first hour passed, during which she found herself just as incapable of focusing, she managed to zone in on her work.  As her work day was coming to a close there was a knock at her door.  Merrill was scheduled to come talk over a new exhibit for the main library.

Since the visit was expected, Emmy didn’t bother looking up from her work as she spoke, “Come on in.  I’ll be done in just a moment.”

Her focus stayed on the paper in front of her as she tried to quickly finish up the last of it.  She heard the door open, then shut, and then the soft click of the lock.  At the last sound her brows furrowed and she looked up.

“Why did---”

The words caught in her throat the moment her eyes landed on the tall form suddenly in her office.  It only took him a few long strides to put himself in front of her desk.  Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a little slip of black lace.

Fenedhis, she’d left her thong there.  Now Solas held it out to her between two of his long fingers.

Then he spoke, voice low and emotionless, “I believe this is yours.  I thought I should return it to you, or did you mean me to have it as some kind of souvenir?”

#dragon age fanfiction #solas #dorian #lavellan #solavellan #solavellan fanfiction #fen'harel #mistakes #emmy x solas #love-in-nature writing #my neighbor fen'harel

[love-in-nature]

My Neighbor Fen’harel Chapter 10: Knew Better

Read on my AO3.

Emmy let out a low moan as she let her eyes flutter shut.  She swallowed and spoke in a husky pleasure filled voice, “I forgot how good you were at this.”

Solas watched her in rapt attention his voice low and intimate, “Ara melava son’ganem.”

“Shush, you’re going to ruin it.”  She kept her eyes shut enjoying the sensations as they overtook her,  “Just let me enjoy this.”

He watched her coming undone and spoke, “It always fascinated me how much you could take in one sitting, that you take without any sense of misplaced shame like so many other women have with such things.”  She opened her eyes to find him leaning closer to her, “More?”

She shivered and shook her head feebly, “If I do there is no way I’ll be able to walk back to my place again.”

“Than I shall carry you or you may stay here tonight.”  His voice was a melodic caress against her skin, seducing her to indulge more, “Now come.  I know you want to, Emmy.”

She hummed in the back of her throat, “Ok but don’t put the whole thing in.  Only a little bit more.”

Shutting her eyes once again she opened her mouth and leaned forward.  After a moment she felt her prize touching light against her tongue.  She closed her lips around the offering as she let out a little whimper of pleasure.

“I would very much like to cook you dinner more often if this is what I have to look forward to.”

She savored the last few moments of pure ecstasy in her mouth before she swallowed.  Then she leaned back in the chair with a satisfied sigh.  She was far too content and stuffed to give him any kind of snarky response.  Not to mention, with the lingering flavors of his home cooking still in her mouth, the idea of these meals regularly was a welcome one.

He had always been a good cook.  She remembered the first time he had invited her to his home for dinner.  It had been Italian that time also.  Spaghetti and meatballs which, after about a million ball and mouth jokes, she had admitted that his were the best balls she’d ever put in her mouth.  It had not only been a night to learn what a great cook he is, but the first time she really got to see who he was beneath the mask he wore in public.  Also the first night they made love.

“Are you alright?”

Emmy glanced up at him and smiled while she massaged her full tummy, “Yup, just have a bit of a food baby.  It’ll pass.”

He raised a brow as his mouth quirked, “Food baby?”  

“Yup, I’m pregnant with your garlic bread baby.”  He brought his fist up to his mouth and coughed hiding another chuckle.  She stood giving her belly another pat before reaching for her plate.

He stood so swiftly his chair almost fell backwards.  He fumbled but managed to catch it with a soft blush coming to the point of his ears that made her heart give an odd little skip.

“Please do not trouble yourself.  I will clean everything later.”

She laughed, “Oh I’m too stuffed to be any help.  I was going to drop it off in the kitchen and grab another glass of wine then go lounge somewhere till I feel like I can breath normal again.”

“Allow me.”  He moved to go to the kitchen speaking as he walked, “I recalled you enjoying red wines but if you would prefer a white, I have that as well.”

“The red is excellent thanks.”  She looked around the space planning out where she wanted to go and let her food settle.  “Where did you buy it?”

“It was a gift from a friend,”  He walked back wine in hand, and refilled her glass before setting the bottle on the table.  Then he lifted the full wine glass holding it out to her, “I will ask if they have anymore if you wish.”

“A friend huh?”  She reached forward to take the glass feeling the familiar jolt of electricity when her fingers brushed his.

He gave her that cocky smirk, “Are you fishing now, Emmy?”

She took a sip of her wine as she looked towards the windows, “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

There was that honeyed chuckle again as he started to gather the dishes from the table.  She really should help.  He had been a perfect host all night.  He’d brought her everything she wanted, almost before she even had the chance to ask, he’d cooked a meal that was to die for, set the table, and made small talk about various recent historical finds.  She’d basically been spoiled since the moment she walked in the door.

However, she was stuffed to the brim completely lost in the contented haze that only great wine and an astoundingly good meal could bring.  As her eyes took in the town lights and the soft silhouette of the mountains in the distance the urge to go outside was too much to resist.  Wine glass in hand she headed towards the patio doors.

Before she opened them she paused looking to the kitchen where he had started on the dishes, “Do you mind?”

He glanced up, the soft smile still on his lips, “Not at all.  If you want to borrow a jacket you may.”  

Even from here she could see his eyes rove slowly over her form, stopping on her legs.  It made her glad she’d gone with the dress she had.  It was casual but shorter, ending mid-thigh.  It also had a wide neck that exposed the swell of her breasts, her neck, and her collarbone.  Places that she recalled him paying particular interest to with nipping and kisses in the past.  Not that she had hoped for that tonight of course, but it never hurt to show an ex what they were missing.  That’s all it was.

She shifted jutting out her hip and accentuating her legs more, “While your concern for the well-being of my thighs is touching, I’ll be fine.  It isn’t too cold yet.”

He turned his attention back to the dishes, “If you are cold later I would be happy to help warm you.  Your thighs and anywhere else you should require.”

She snorted and turned to open the door so he wouldn’t see the flush she felt creeping onto her skin, “Keep dreaming, it’s good to have unreachable goals, keeps you grounded.”

As she stepped outside he spoke from the kitchen, “You may leave the door open.”

“Ok.”  

The cool mountain air brushed against her skin and she took a deep inhale getting the crisp scents of the night air.  It helped to clear her head a bit.  This whole night had been somewhat surreal.  It almost felt like they were back to normal, or at least on some level of friendship.  Something she really shouldn’t allow but surely one night wouldn’t hurt.

She took another inhale the slight scent of herbs came to her and she wandered around his balcony.  Turning the corner she saw his little garden.  For such a small space he had managed quite well.  Though she couldn’t identify them all, especially not by moonlight.  The ones she could make out were elfroot, tomatoes, cucumbers,  and strawberries.

As she was looking music started to play from inside the apartment.  It was some kind of instrumental, slow and pleasant.  It made her relax even more.  A fact she would later attribute to her downfall that night; really she should have left as soon as dinner was done, but she had lingered.

“If you would like a strawberry help yourself.”

She straightened from her examination of the perfectly grown fruit unsurprised by his voice so close.  She had felt him before he spoke, her body annoyingly tuned to his presence.  “I’m still stuffed but thanks.”

“Perhaps another time.”

That would be a very bad idea.  

Changing the topic she tipped her wine glass towards the tomato plant, “Let me guess, you made the lasagna sauce from scratch.”

“Naturally.  The things they sell as pre-made food in the stores now is subpar at best.”

She laughed and shook her head, “Sometimes you really do sound like an old man.”

He gave her that teasing smirk of his, “I am an old man, so it is fitting.”

“Not so old.”

He made a soft sound of amusement before he looked at her intently, “Would you do this ‘not so old’ man the honor of a dance?”

She felt her heart speed but forced her face to remain neutral, “You’re serious?”

“Yes.  Us older folks need to make sure we exercise regularly.”

She placed her free hand on her hip, “You went for a jog just this morning, and besides, you are more fit than most people I know.”

“Ah but this form of exercise is one of the most pleasant.”

“One of them huh?  I wasn’t aware there was a list of pleasant work outs.”

“I believe you are well aware of the most pleasant, and more than proficient at it, if memory serves.”

She couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled forth even as her cheeks flushed again, “More than proficient, professor?  You do know how to flatter a girl.”

“Shall I go into more detail.  Perhaps tell you how you were better than I had ever thought possible or how every woman before you was a pale comparison to wha---"

She held up her free hand as her heart somehow sped even more.  If he kept this up she’d do something stupid.  Well, stupider than what she was about to do.

“Alright alright.  I’ll dance with you if you stop being some character out of a cheesy romance novel.”

He smirked again as he reached forward to take her wine glass from her, “You believe me to be romantic?”

“I said cheesy.”  She released her wine glass to him and he moved to set it on the ledge of the balcony, “Tell me Solas, do you have a little notebook where you jot all these lines down when you think of them so you can use them later on those you wish to woo?  If you do you could write a book.  I bet you could make good money off all the unsuspecting female romance readers.”

He chuckled as he turned back to her, “I do not but I shall keep that in mind should I ever desire to retire from my teaching career.  It will, however, require your assistance.”

She snorted, “I’m not an editor and if I were you couldn’t pay me enough.”

“No.  You are my muse.  Now,”  He reached out his hand to her with a slight bow, “May I have this dance?”

Now was the time to get out of this.  This was the moment she should thank him for dinner and then run home to cuddle with Darcy on the couch.  Instead she placed her hand in his holding back the shiver that threatened when his long fingers closed  around her hand.  He pulled her against him, the hand that wasn’t holding hers going to her waist while she let her free hand go up to his shoulder.  

It was too easy being like this.  It was like going home.  She had the strongest urge to crush herself against him till there was no space left between them at all.  It wouldn’t take much.  As he started to move slowly with her her breasts were already flush to his chest, their pelvises aligned, and she already felt like control of the situation was slipping from her.  This was something she should care more about but she couldn’t.

“Emmy?” He had his head tilted down next to hers and the word brushed against the skin of her throat.  It was said in an intimate whisper his voice husky.

“Yes?”  Her word was less a word and more a breath.  Fenedhis this had been a bad idea.

“I am glad you came.”

This was when she should say something snarky.  This was her chance to put a safe distance between them again.  Instead what came out of her mouth was the truth, “Me too.”

He let out a soft shuddering breath which tickled her earlobe.  Then his hand began to caress along her back everywhere his fingers could reach.  He somehow managed to pull her even closer and she could feel him against her hip.  She could feel him hardening as they moved and knew she needed to leave but she didn’t.  

She buried her head in the curve between his shoulder and neck breathing him in as she let the sensations take her over.  The moment now becoming an intimate secret between them as the world dissolved away around her.  She needed him.  She’d always needed him.  What an idiot she’d been to think otherwise.

What was wrong with her?  This man had broken her.  She needed to pull away, needed to regain control, but he was like the sun and her a helpless planet drawn into his orbit.  There was no way she could pull away not even when he put just enough space between them to look down at her, pupil’s dilated with his desire.  Not even when he brought his mouth to hers and brushed a feather light caress against them.

In fact, far from pushing him away, she let out a low moan.  He pulled back and looked at her his eyes searching her face as his fingers clenched against her back.  Something in her face must have reassured him because he released the hand he had been holding and now had both hands against her waist.  

At some point they must have turned because he now lifted her easily and set her one the thick ledge of his balcony before he placed himself between her legs.  The action brought her dress up even higher on her thighs.  His eyes glanced down and he let out a strangled sound.

Suddenly she felt breathless and incredibly dizzy.  She brought her arms around his shoulders and pressed her legs against him for balance.  One of his hands went down to trace along her calf stopping at the curve of her knee and holding her there.  His other hand comes up to the back of her head, fingers weaving through her hair as his thumb caressed behind her earlobe.

He brought his face closer to hers and when he spoke the word brushed against her lips, “Arasha.”

Then his lips press softly against hers.  A question at first, one that she answers by gripping him tighter and opening her mouth to him.  Then it becomes a different kind of dance.  A dance of breath and lips and tongues.  They tease, take, and give.  She shuddered, sighed and pulled back, then he caught her gently with a nibble on her lower lip before pulling her into something deeper.  There was a heaviness between her legs and every nerve in her body was crackling with life with each caress of his tongue.

His mouth left hers just enough to whisper, “Emmy, I need you.  My body aches for you.  Isalan hima sa i’na.”

She wanted to.  She wanted so badly.  It would be easy to give in.  Easy to let him take her, let him bury himself inside her as she lost herself to him.  

But then what?  After their bodies were satiated what would she be left with?  What would she feel?

Weak.  Conquered.

She moved her hands from around his neck to his chest and gave the slightest push as she spoke, “I can’t.”  Pain crossed his face.  It made him look so vulnerable that she felt her heart skip but she held her ground, “I’m sorry I just can’t.”

He swallowed then reached to her waist again to help her off the ledge.  Then he took a large step away from her to put space between them.  “I had not intended it to go this far tonight.”

The next question came out before she could stop herself, “You wish it hadn’t?”

He gave her a somewhat uncertain smile, “Perhaps I should say so but it would be a lie.  I am sorry if I pushed you too far.”

She shook her head, “You have faults but that has never been one of them, Solas.  I’m a big girl.  I made my choices tonight.”

“And now you make another.”

“Yes.”  She looked down and straightened her now rumbled dress as she tried to gather her thoughts again.  “I do appreciate all you did tonight.  Dinner was delicious.”

“It was my pleasure.”  He shifted, “I will walk you out.”

“No need.  I’ll just see myself out.”  She walked past him trying to ignore his eyes even as she felt his gaze in her core, “Have a good rest of your night, Solas.”

With that she somehow managed to get herself out of his apartment, down the hall, and into her own.  The moment the door was shut she pressed her back to it and took in deep breaths of air.  So close.  She’d been so close to giving into him tonight.  It wasn’t even like she could blame him either.  It had been her own stupidity that had led her down that path.  She’d known better even before she’d walked out her door hours before.

She shook herself in an attempt to break out of her warring emotions.  Then she stood and went about her night.  Later, when she was in bed, she let her hand come up to rest against her headboard.  Was he in his bed too just a few feet away?  Did he go to sleep with thoughts of her haunting him like she did of him?

In the end, she fell asleep with her hand still resting there and her dreams overflowing with memories of him.

#dragon age fanfiction #solas fanfiction #solavellan fanfiction #solavellan modern au #my writing #my neighbor fen'harel #solasxemmy #flirts #smooches #dancing

[love-in-nature]

My Neighbor, Lavellan Chapter 03: Decided

This Solas POV touches briefly on the events in chapter 7 but is mostly focused on those in chapter 8 of My Neighbor, Fen’harel.  

You can read this work on my AO3 also.

Solas should not have taken it that far.  He knew this.  He should not have even come to the archives in the first place, not so late in the day.  It would be easy to lie to himself, easy to say it was simply coincidence that she had been there, but it was not, and he was so tired of playing this game.

Fridays were always when the archives received donations.  After they had been sorted, they would need to be put away.  Thus it was a guarantee she would come to the area he was.  Even if he wished to claim that he planned on leaving before she arrived, that too would have been a lie.  He had gone there and waited.  Meandered.  Found excuses to stay until he saw her.

Then when it had come to that, when he had realized what he was doing, he had tried to tell himself that he would just see her and then leave.  He would not antagonize her.  He would not flirt or try to get her attention in any way he could.  He would not try to keep her nearer by any means necessary, try to hear her voice for just a moment longer.

Yet here he was.  A foolish old man hoping beyond hope that she would… would what?  Come running to him before the elevators closed?  Shout from the stairs asking him to please not go?  Then what?

As the elevator doors closed on the rows of archives, and the only woman he had ever truly loved, his body felt immeasurably heavy.  This was not how this was meant to go.  It was a joke, a bad story told over and over again.  The immortal god falling for the mortal woman and dooming them both in the process.

“Tell me, is it habitual to run from all your problems or just from me?”

His hand came out and hit the stop button on the elevator.  Then he leaned back against the wall before crumbling to the floor.  Once more he could feel wetness that streamed hot down his cheeks.

This should not be happening.  He should have ended it properly two years ago.  He should not have responded to her as Fen’harel, should not have engaged.  Then again, even if he had not, they would still be in this mess now.  Of that, he had no doubts.  She had fallen into darkness for a while, but even if he had not helped her as Fen’harel, not coaxed and prodded till she slowly woke again, she would have done so on her own in time.  She was strong, so very strong, and she would have pushed through.

Still, if she ever found out the truth about that day…

He shook his head.  She never would.  He would do everything he could to prevent that.  Though it should never become an issue to begin with; as far as she and the Inquisition were concerned, the case had been solved, the perpetrator taken care of, and all danger passed.  There was no need to investigate further.

The issue was even if she never knew, he did.  

He had not left soon enough.  He had started something he should not have in the first place, gotten in too deep.  Now he had shown that he would protect her at any cost.  She made him reckless, but made him want to be more, made him better.  She had opened his eyes to so much he would otherwise have remained blind to.  She had brought color and life into a world he had thought devoid of such things.  With her he had truly seen around him; even when it was painful to do so.

She was the most precious thing to him, and that very fact was what put her most at risk.  He needed to figure out what to do.  He surely could not carry on like this.  It was not fair to him, but more importantly, it was hugely unfair to her.  Cruel even.

He took a deep, shaky breath and stood, wiping the lingering moisture from his cheeks and eyes.  With his thoughts still twisting every which way he started the elevator again.  

Somehow, he managed to make it back to the apartment.  A trip he barely registered in his current state.

When he passed her door, he paused letting his fingertips brush against the knob.  He was immortal.  She was mortal.  He was dangerous, and she had been through enough.  It would surely be best to let her go for good.  To just avoid her except when absolutely necessary, even ceasing all communication with her as Fen’harel.

A clean cut.  He had apologized.  She hopefully understood it was nothing she had done.  It was best to let her live her life, best to let her find a man who could give her a safe and happy bonding.  A man she could grow old with.  He could, no he would, do that for her.  Let her move on.

He pulled his fingers from her door and curled them as he went to his residence.  Once there he forced his mind to go to other matters, though it was a constant battle not to wander back to her.

When light finally started to give way to dusk, he decided to stop working for the day.  All in all, he had gotten precious little done.  He was doubtful that would improve at all tonight.  So instead of continuing fruitlessly, he decided to relax.  He went to his room, turned on Chopin, and then prepared his bath.

He had barely settled in when he heard a sound coming from the door that opened to his bedroom.  His ears twitched before he shook his head and forced his attention back to the words in front him.  Then sounds again, this time louder, more insistent.  

Bang. Bang. Bang.

The banging undertoned by the unmistakable sounds that accompanied sex.  Was she really---

No.

He shook his head hard, brows furrowing as he tried to focus on the words.  Even if she was, it was none of his---

Bang. Bang.

He grit his teeth as his fingers tightened on the book.  This was not his---

Bang, bang, bang, bang.

“Fenedhis lasa.”

With much more force than was necessary, he threw the book across the bathroom.  Then with a growl, he stood, not bothering to open the drain as he stepped out of the water.  He barely ran the towel over his skin before he pulled on a pair of pants.  Though water still clung to him, chilling when hit by the air, he barely registered it.

The banging from her side of the wall sounding in his head as though he was physically being hit.  He stormed into his room and over to the music player in just a few quick strides.  He then flipped off the music and immediately headed towards the door of his apartment.  This had nothing to do with her having a lover.  He would keep to his earlier decision, but surely he did not have to put up with them putting a hole in his bedroom wall.

He swung his door open storming out to hers without closing it behind him.  This would only take a moment after all.  He just needed to make it clear they should keep it down.  Very clear.

Clenching his hands into fists, he brought one up to pound on the door.  Then he waited with his heart beating in his chest and his muscles tense.  The moment the door handle move he squared his shoulders and before it was completely open said, “What are---”

Then he saw Dorian standing there, and several things happened.  First thing was a wave of relief.  Dorian was very much not interested in females in that manner which meant that she was not having sex.  This brought into stark light that he had not been bothered by the noise so much as by the knowledge that someone else was filling her, pleasing her, joining with her, and him having to listen was just salt in an already deep wound.

Next, there was confusion.  If she was not having sex then what was---

His eyes went into the room and found her in an instant.  She was barefoot in jeans and a bra.  The curves that he remembered so well practically on full display.  The desire to touch her washed over him with such force his fingers twitched.  It was difficult to keep his head straight, difficult to even remember how to breathe like normal.

Dorian spoke pulling Solas from his thoughts, “Good you’re finally here, we were---”

Then Emmy shouted across the room bringing his attention back to her. Her shout was so slurred from drink it took him a moment to decipher what she had said.

“Having sex.”

He raised a brow and frowned.  Then he realized just how distracting she was to him when he only then, saw the huge man that was walking towards him.  A Qunari and one he recognized from press images of Emmy when she was Inquisitor.  The man had been her bodyguard.  Solas wondered why exactly he was in Emmy’s apartment when she no longer employed him.

Before he could even begin to try and puzzle out what exactly he had gotten himself into, Dorian was pushing past him saying, “We have another one in the car.  Take care of her tonight, yes?  You can do that much at least.”

Solas’ mouth opened with the intent to ask what exactly Dorian meant by his last sentence, but no words would form.  Surely she had not told Dorian about what had happened between them.  

Then the Qunari was passing him while glaring daggers, “I’m going to be calling her in the morning.”

A threat.  A Qunari was threatening him.  Of all the…

Solas’ eyes wandered back to Emmy, and his anger fizzled out before it even took full form.  The Qunari clearly cared for her.  He should be grateful for it, not angry.  She needed good friends around her, people that would watch out for her.  

Though he still did not understand exactly what had happened with the banging unless...

Had she wanted him to think she was having sex?  Why?  

He watched as she gave a small heave before spinning on her heels and running into her bedroom.  There was a moment’s hesitation on what he should do.  Then it vanished almost as fast as it had come.  He would take care of her; there was never any other option.  Although he was unsure she would welcome his care once she broke out of her drunken state.

Quietly he made his way into her place trying to keep his eyes from prying.  She had not invited him in after all.  Even so, he could not help the brief glances.  The glimpse of her painting space, the coffee table stacked haphazard with papers, books, and a quarter full coffee mug.  

Then he was in her bedroom, which was painted white and the bed made with vibrant greens to match the curtains.  Here too she had books everywhere, one side of her bed containing at least three that he could see.  

She had not changed so much.  Compared to his, everything has a place, policy she was the opposite.  Things tended to go wherever and yet, what he would find tiresome with others, was somehow endearing with her.  Little bits of her thoughts scattered around like small treasures to stumble upon.

He heard the toilet flush and was brought back to the task at hand.  By the time he entered the bathroom, she had curled herself into a ball on the tiles.  He released a soft sigh as he bent down to brush a strand of hair that had stuck to her forehead.  She gave a small murmur of contentment as she shut her eyes.

There was at least a full minute where he simply stayed crouched down there watching her and trying to make sense of this whole day.  When something nudged against his thigh, he almost fell over at the unexpected touch.  It turned out to be a cat that purred as it looked from him to Emmy.  

He raised a brow before reaching out to scratch the animal behind the ear, “I think I will take her back to my place.  Would you be alright with that?”

“No would not.”  A mumble and then she shot up with a wince, “No, I’m fine.  Aren’t I Da--”

He was barely able to decipher her words, though he managed after a while with all but the cat’s name.

“You are drunk.  Someone should make sure you did not give yourself alcohol poisoning or that nothing else happens during the---”

She stood abruptly, and he followed, managing to get up just in time to catch her about the waist when she swayed and almost fell over.  She moaned and let her forehead fall against his chest.  Then she let out a muffled whine, “Head hurts.”

“I would imagine so.”

Then she pushed herself away from him, but he held her still, his hands against the bare skin of her back to keep her from falling over.  She eyed him narrowing her eyes and then hit him in the chest.

“I hate you.”

He took a deep breath, “I am aware.”

“Cuz I love you, and you’re stupid, so that means I’m stupid and I---”  

His blood pulsed so loudly in his ears he was surprised he could hear anything else.  Even as he held her, he felt his hands shake, as did his voice when he said just above a whisper, “You,” he swallowed, “you what?”

She hit him weakly in the chest with her fist, “You confuse me.”

More he was barely able to decipher, but the part before he had heard without a doubt.  The words had hit him with enough force to knock the air from his lungs.

She had said she loved him.  She loved him.  He had not ever known she had felt that strongly for him.  The fact that she still felt it now, after everything he had done…  

Oh, he had been such an idiot.  He had lost this fight long ago.  Even if he left her now, she would still be at risk.  There was no denying she was his weakness, the one thing that could be his final undoing.  Yet, she was also his strength in so many ways.  She had challenged him, supported him, and made him feel a happiness he had long ago given up on.

He could not leave her.  Not ever again.  He would stay with her.  Protect her from those who would use her to get to him by staying close and vigilant.  After all, he had sacrificed so much for the People.  He had willingly given himself, willingly gone through centuries of fighting and utter loneliness for them.  Why should he not have something for him when this was over?  Just this one thing.  The one thing that he found he wanted for himself more than anything.

There was the issue of her mortality but, perhaps when he had completed what he intended, immortality would be restored to the elves along with everything else.  If it were not, there must be a way for him to rid himself of his own.  He was tired.  He did not want to go through yet more centuries alone, not now that he knew her, knew what he could have.

Immortality was the least of the sacrifices he would be willing to make for her.  Not even a sacrifice, it had become more of a curse than anything else.

Now he would just need to win her back.  A task he knew would not be easy even if she did love him.  He had hurt her badly.  He had done wrong.  He did not expect for that to be made right overnight.  Not to mention there was the complication of him being Fen’harel.  He would tell her just... not yet.

She brought him back from his thoughts when she tried to push from him completely while she mumbled about food for the cat.  He moved in one smooth motion to lift her into his arms.  She furrowed her brows and ranted at him, but it was so slurred he could not decipher any of it this time.

He walked her to her bed and set her on the covers letting his fingers brush her cheek, “Wait here.  Do not move; you are not fit to walk.”

She didn’t say anything, but she did plop back onto the bed with a sigh.  He would take that as assurance that she was settled for the moment.  At least for long enough for him to find the cat food and take care of the furry creature that was winding itself around his legs.

He spoke down to it, “I do not suppose you would tell me where your food was?”

The cat meowed and then trotted over to the door.  When he did not follow it paused, looked back at him, swooshed its tail, and meowed again.  Unexpected.  It was probably just his imagination.  Cats did not lead people after all.

However, when he went to the door, the cat did lead him.  It plopped down in front of one of the cabinets putting a little paw to the wood before looking back at him.  Solas came over and kneeled down to scratch the cat’s ear again, “She would have such a strange creature.”

As though it had understood and took that as an insult the cat pulled from him, turned sticking its butt in the air, then walked over to the food dish all without looking at him.  Solas eyed the creature for a moment before shaking his head and opening the cabinet.  Sure enough, there was the cat food.

He fed the cat and then put the food away.  Then he went back into the bedroom.  When he got there, she had wiggled out of her pants somehow and threw them, who knew where.  He started to look for them, but then she began heaving again.  He lifted her taking her to her toilet again where she regained just enough consciousness to release her stomach more.

This would not work at all; he could not stand to see her like this.  The truth of it was that he had probably been one of the key reasons she had been drinking in the first place.  At least this he could make right tonight.  

Forgetting about her state of dress completely, he scooped her into his arms and hurried out of her apartment.  He set her down only long enough to get her door open then managed to shut it again with his elbow.  Now he was glad he had left his door open as he took her into his apartment and closed his door with his foot.

He took her to the bedroom and placed her carefully on his bed.  That done he went searching for some headache medication he had bought once, tried, detested, and never used again.  Still, it would hopefully help ease her discomfort some.  

Once he had two of the pills, he went to the kitchen for some water and brought it all back to her.  He set on the edge of the bed next to her, gently lifted her head, and eased the pills into her mouth.  

She woke and struggled against him, “Stop squirming.  I have no intention of poisoning you, these will help.”  When she stilled, he placed the glass of water to her lips and said, “Drink.”  She obeyed, and when she’d taken a few gulps, he lowered her back to the bed.  His hand going up to make sure her body temperature wasn’t dropping at all.  

“I’m not sick you know, just stupid.”  She gave a mournful sigh, “You’ll never let me live this down.”

Foolish woman, he would probably let her get away with much more than this; though he did not like that she had hurt herself thus.  “Emmy, hush.”  He let his fingers brush against her cheek and move a strand of hair behind her ear before he adjusted her pillow.

“Ok.  Will you please stay for a minute?  I mean, sorry that’s stupid, you don’t have--”

The pleading, almost panicked tone to her voice made his heart clench painfully in his chest.  “I’m not going anywhere, Emmy.”  Then he paused knowing if he said this out loud it would seal it but then, he knew there had never truly been any going back for him at this point, even if he had wished to.  So he spoke the words, barely a whisper, “Never again.”

Then he bent towards her, paused inches above her, and when she did not move from him, he placed a kiss on her forehead before he said, “Now sleep.”

He stayed sitting next to her, and she did sleep for about a half hour before she started heaving again.  He moved quickly, grabbing a waste basket and holding her hair back while she threw up what little was left in her stomach.  When he was sure she was done, he went to get two wet washcloths, one to clean her face and one to rest on her forehead.

Then, as she dozed again, he practically jogged into his office.  His fingers pressed to a panel on the far wall, it pushed in and then slid open revealing a safe.  He placed his thumb on a pad in the center where a small needle came out and took his blood.  Then the safe clicked open revealing a perfectly preserved wolf jaw attached to thick chord.  

When he took it into his hands, he felt static on his fingertips.  The magic he was able to pull from it was minimal, but it was better than nothing.  Only Mythal and himself had managed to keep items that allowed them even this small amount of magic now when the world was devoid of it.  It was a risk to use and meant only for emergencies, but to him, this constituted one.  He did not want Emmy losing any more fluids through vomiting; she needed rest.

He went back into the bedroom and set on the bed once again.  With a deep breath, he slipped the jaw bone over his neck feeling the flow of magic that returned to him.  It was nothing to what he had before, but it would do.  He then let his fingertips go to press lightly to her temples as he let his magic pulse through him and into her.

He flowed it through her dispelling the lingering alcohol in her blood and healing any remnants of a headache.  As he finished she let out a little sigh of pleasure.  He smiled as he removed his fingers from her.  

That should do it.  If he had not completely lost his touch, she should wake in the morning as though she had never consumed alcohol at all.

Only then did he remember the state of her undress.  He knew that it would be best if she was wearing her clothes but he was loath to leave her should she wake up for some reason and still be ill.  So he compromised and dug in his closet for a large shirt.  When he found a suitable one, he eased her to a sitting position and slid it onto her.  That done he shifted her one more time so he could tuck her into the covers.

Once he was sure she was settled, and sleeping peacefully did he go to secure the wolf jaw again.  No doubt he would hear from Mythal about this, but he would deal with it when it happened.  Right now he had more important things to deal with,  one of which was how to get the woman he loved to be his again.

#solavellan #solas #lavellan #fen'harel #modern au #my writing #my neighbor lavellan #my neighbor fen'harel #solas x lavellan #solas x emmy #solas angst #angst #fluff #drunk lavellan #drunk

[love-in-nature]

My Neighbor Fen’harel Chapter 7: Why

Read full story on my AO3.

The rest of the week was relatively uneventful.  Emmy wasn’t plagued by any more unwanted dreams, and Solas avoided conversations in his bedroom, so she hadn’t heard him again.  Fen'harel hadn’t e-mailed her since their last chat, not that she checked multiple times a day.  Darcy had adjusted to the new apartment.  Everything was officially unpacked.

As for work, the days went by with a mixture of transcriptions, digitizing of old photos, and working through a particularly extensive collection, which had come in shortly before she had started, centered around the Hero of Fereldon.  It was interesting, but there was a lot for her to work through.  On top of that was the usual e-mails, entering of meeting minutes, and general reference questions sent her way by librarians when they needed extra help or had a patron who wanted access to particularly delicate materials, something her or Merrill would need to supervise.

Today was a Friday which meant a new shipment of donations had come in early that morning.  She’d arrived at work by 6 to meet the delivery and since had been working through it with Merrill.  As usual, much of it was things that they had no use for.  One only needed so many diagrams of old toilets after all.  Part of preserving history was deciding what took priority since it was simply impossible to properly store and catalog every single bit of it.

Merrill spoke behind her, “Another toilet.  By the Dread Wolf, how many of these are there?”

Emmy snorted, “There have been an awful lot of them with this one.  You’d think we were receiving donations from a toilet factory or something.   Whoever this private collector was their grandparents must have had some odd fascination for them.  Or a kink.”

There was quiet for a moment, “That’s a thing?  How does…”

Emmy finished up cataloging the last bit of paper in the box in front of her.  When she’d finished typing in the information, she tucked the document into its correct pile and stood, “I’m not sure I want to know, but I’m fairly certain it’s a thing.  There’s a kink for everything.”

She glanced over at Merrill as she went to grab a nearby cart.  Merrill was shaking her head and mumbled, “Sometimes people confuse me.”

“That makes two of us.”  Emmy started moving her document piles onto the cart as she asked, “Ready to take the stuff down?  We might actually be out of here by five for once.”

Merrill laughed as she stood to gather her piles, “Oh, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if that happened.”

When they got to the elevator Merrill didn’t question why Emmy chose not to use it.  Merrill knew her habits.  Instead of using the elevator, she would push a cart into the elevator, hit the appropriate button, and then take the stairs and meet the items.  It was never an issue.  The elevator was ridiculously slow.  Still, Emmy had braced herself for questions the first few times.  When none had come, she’d started to relax.  The lack of prodding was just another thing to love about her new co-worker.

Just as she was reaching the bottom of the stairs, the elevator dinged and the doors slid open.  Merrill pushed out the cart and looked up, then her eyes went past Emmy’s shoulder, and she beamed.  

“Professor Evans!  It’s been a while.”

Emmy’s stomach dropped as she turned to find the last man she wanted to see.  He stood holding a medium sized tome in his gloved hands.  On his lower half, he wore pants that she refused to acknowledge flattered his thighs and sculpted rear.  On top, he had a neatly tucked white button up under a dark vest; the sleeves had been rolled up revealing the lightly freckled skin of his forearms.

At Merrill’s words, he had turned his head to look at them.  She only caught a flash of his eyes on her before they went to Merrill and he gave the woman an easy smile, “Hello, Merrill.  It has been a busy first week back, so I have been unable to make it here much.”

Emmy’s eyes narrowed, and she frowned, “This isn’t a public part of the archives.  These items are—”

“I have been given permission.  I am well aware of how to handle such things.”

Merrill pushed the cart forward, cheery and completely unaware of the tension that sparked in the air, “Professor Evans has a lot of experience handling old documents.  In fact, he has been able to teach me a few new things.”  She laughed as she pushed the cart to the area where the first pile of papers was to be stored.

“Be that as it may, these are my responsibility now and—”

He spoke over her as his eyes went back to the book, “Why is this filed under the fall of Arlathan?”

She ground her teeth, “Excuse me?”

“It seems to me this would be more suited under something to do with Tevinter history.”  Without looking up, he carefully turned the page and added, “It would perhaps aid you with your answer if you came close enough to see the item in question.  I would not bite you if you did.”

She noted he hadn’t said he didn’t bite.  She couldn’t help but think it was because she knew he did bite, that he wanted her to be reminded of those circumstances when he had bitten her.  How many times had she woken up pleased with the light mark he had left behind on her skin?

“Is there a problem?”

Of course, now his eyes were on her, intent as they took in her face.  The feeling of heat that rose to her cheeks made her blood boil.  

Damn him.

When she spoke she kept her voice cool, “Just a tiny, inconsequential memory, nothing worth note.  Honestly, it’s surprising I even recall it.”

A hint of something flashed in his eyes before they quickly flicked back to the book, “I see.  In that case, are you going to come look or shall I start reading passages out loud.”

With as much dignity as she could manage she stormed over to him.  The way he held the book forced her to move close to see the text, close enough that she could feel the heat of his body against her skin.  It was like sunshine on a warm day and his scent—

Traitorous.  Horrible, stupid body.

She forced her eyes to focus on the text in front of her.  Ancient Tevene still was not her strongest area of expertise, but she was getting better.  As she translated it her mouth moved unconsciously going over each word.

When he spoke, it was hushed so that Merrill couldn’t hear it from her place down the stacks, “You still do that thing with your mouth when you translate.”

At his words, her eyes flicked up to meet his.  He was looking at her with that piercing gaze she knew so intimately.  The one that had always made her feel more bare and exposed than any time she had been nude with him.  

She stood there completely paralyzed by his examination, unmoving even as the voice of reason screamed at her she needed to back away.  Even as it reminded her that, in her study of the book, she had pressed herself against his arm and this was not good.  Tendrils of longing had already started to wind their way through her, thick and overwhelming.

When she managed to push out words, they were much less chastising than she’d intended.  Her body continuing its treachery,  “I fail to see how what my mouth does is any concern of yours.”

His eyes flicked to her lips then back to the book, “It is distracting.”

“Oh forgive me, I thought you were here out of professional interest.  I will strive to spare you from temptation in the future.”

“Spare me?”

“Yes, temptation is the road to all things bad after all or something like that.”

She saw his fingers flex against the cover, “How do you know I wish to be spared?”

Her heart did an uneven thump in her throat, “Excuse me?”

“I believe you heard me, but I will repeat,” his face remained completely neutral, but she greatly doubted she was holding her composure nearly so well, “How–”

Merrill’s voice chirped in from his other side, “All filed.”  Merrill’s eyes went to the book he had been holding, the book that the two of them hadn’t even really addressed, “You two still figuring out the filing for that thing?”

The suddenness of Merrill’s interruption finally got a reaction from Solas.  It came in the form of the slightest jump, but it was enough that his arm temporarily knocked against one of her breasts.  The action sent a jolt of electricity down her spine and had the small hairs on her nape standing on end. 

At least it was enough to finally get her to put space between them.  Her voice was impressively neutral when she spoke, “I recognize the text now.  It is written by a Tevinter, but it is about the fall of Arlathan.  The man was traveling and saw aspects of it, which is the key interest in the diary.  Therefore, it is prudent to file it here instead of amongst things related to ancient Tevinter.  The rest of the diary holds nothing that we didn’t know about Tevinter through other texts.”

She heard him inhale as he shut the book and placed it back in its proper spot.  Then he pulled off his gloves, and she saw the smallest hint of a tremble in his fingers.  It was childish, silly, but it made her smile.

Then he spoke, and her smile left, “I wonder, why you assume that this man’s words are fact.  We know the Tevinters have a habit of taking and twisting history to their ends, especially when it comes to the People.”  As he pulled off the last glove he turned to face her, “I do not mean insult, I am simply curious if you have reasons or are simply taking the words of a dead Tevinter as truth.”

How dare he.  He comes into her archives and questions if she is doing her job properly.  After all, he had done to her.  After everything, he pulls this shit.  Arrogant son of a bitch.

“Are you suggesting that I don’t do my research?”

“Not necessarily.  I simply was wondering at your reasoning behind believing the diary contained truths instead of made up tales based on things Tevinter found and stole as their own.”

She was surprised that fire wasn’t coming out of her ears in some cartoonish mockery, such was the rage that boiled in her blood.  She wanted to wipe that fucking calm look off his face, to push him against the shelves and kick his legs wider.  Then she’d put her knee in the little triangle of his groin and pull herself up him, making him grunt with pain.

She’d rip open the collar of his shirt and put her hands around that long graceful neck of his.  Then she’d squeeze and squeeze as he struggled beneath her.  The scent of his skin, sandalwood, books, and ink, filling her nostrils as she felt the heat of him under her fingertips.

“What are you imagining, Miss Lavellan; your expression is,” He paused a beat, and his tongue darted out to lick his lower lip, “filthy.”

Totally forgetting Merrill was standing right there, she spoke, and her voice came out so husky it would make a phone sex operator sound like a nun, “Bare hands on your neck, strangling you.”

His eyes went dark, “Is that your new kink.”

“It seems to be one you alone bring out in me.”

His pupils got even bigger, eyebrows lifting as he opened his mouth then closed it.  It would appear that she had rendered him speechless.  It was beautiful.

Merrill cleared her throat, eyes wide as she looked between the two of them, “Are you two–”

“No.”  They answered at the same time, in the same tone, as they continued to stare each other down.

“Right.  I’m going to uhm… go take the cart back now.”  Merrill rushed away, and Emmy hardly registered the ding of the elevator as she went.

With one wide stride, Solas moved, so he was so close to her that the tips of his perfectly polished shoes touched her run down brown boots.  She swallowed, her knees feeling like jelly.  She wanted to slap him, to tear his eyes out, to rake her nails along his skin, to have his mouth on hers, to devour him as he devoured her in return.

When he spoke his tone was so cool and collected you would think they were two old friends having a conversation over coffee about the latest book they’d read.  “Why are you here, Em?”

Her heart clenched at the shortened use of her name, “Don’t call me that.”  Then a thought came to her and she glared at him as best she could, given how close he was, “Why?  Do you think I came because you were here?  That I hunted you down or something?”

Finally, an emotion crossed his face, a small hint of surprise chased quickly by the slight tilt of his head, “Did you?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but no, I didn’t.  After it finally sunk in that you’d disappeared, I didn’t look, not even once.”  Then her voice fell to a whisper, “It hurt too much.”

“Em.”

She saw his hand move in the side of her vision and took several large steps back away from him, “Stop calling me that, I hate it.  And I meant it hurt too much then.  When it first happened.  After a few months…” She paused then forced the lie out even as her body seemed to protest it, “I just didn’t care.”

With one last glance in the direction of the nearby stacks she turned from him without allowing her eyes to look at his face, only sweeping over his chest, “You know what happened.  Everyone knows.  After all of that, I just wanted a chance to have a normal life.  Try to have a new start.”  She gave a soft bitter laugh as she started walking away, “Only my luck could have that attempt end up like this.”

Sure she was no longer fighting to “save the world,” but her life had still managed to remain complicated in creative and messed up ways.  Just as she was starting up the stairs, a hand was on her elbow, firm but not enough that she couldn’t yank free if she wanted to.

“I am sorry, Emmy.”

For some reason she didn’t pull away but froze, only moving enough so she could turn her head to look at his chest, the strong line of his jaw, “It was a long time ago.  I got over it a long time ago.  There’s no need to go there; I don’t want anything from you.”  

A lie.  Such a huge lie that it burned like acid on her tongue.

“I know, and it is selfish of me, but I need you to know.  What we—”  She saw his deep breath in the shuddering lift of his chest, “What I felt, it was not a lie.”

His words made her knees go weak once more.  She wanted to sink to the floor with the force of them pressing on her.  Part of her wanted to really talk to him, to ask him all the things she had wanted to ask him since the day he left.  To discuss everything like the two adults they were.  But a bigger part of her couldn’t go there because she was terrified it would break her.  Only recently had she started to truly feel like she was piecing herself back together again after everything, she couldn’t shatter again.

Instead of being an adult and facing her feelings she pried her arm free as she said, “Are you done or was there more you needed to say to try to make yourself feel better?”

He frowned, “That was not my intent.”

“Wasn’t it?  What was your intent then?”  His mouth opened, then shut again, and he shifted.  She turned from him once more, “As I thou—”

“I would like if we could be civil.  I do not expect you to forgive me.  I do not expect your friendship or anything else from you but…”  She had stopped on the steps, and he paused to find the right words, “I would not make your life harder if I could help it.  You must understand that I have my reasons for being unable to leave, if I could, I would.”

Why?  Why did those words sting so terribly?  If he left that would solve her biggest problem, everything would be simple again or as simple as they could be.  She could start trying to build a life for herself.  A life without him in it.

He wanted to run from her.  Again.

She turned to face him; now she stood three steps above him so was able to look down her nose at him, “Tell me, is it habitual for you to run from all your problems or just from me?”

From the look on his face, she was fairly sure she’d landed a solid punch.  He took a deep breath then turned towards the elevator.  She thought for a moment he would simply leave, but he stopped before turning back and crossing over to her in a few quick steps.  He stood on the bottom step so his face was more even with hers and she was within a foot of him.

“You are the only thing that has ever terrified me enough that I felt I had no other choice.  Wrong as I was.”

Despite the fact that his words made a familiar desire pool in her lower belly she managed to keep her tone even, “Oh yes, I’m completely terrifying.  The thing of nightmares and you always had a choice, Solas.  You could have said something, anything.  Broken it off like a normal person.  Just vanishing was–”

Now when his hand came up to brush a knuckle across her cheek, she didn’t jerk from him or slap him away.  She allowed it even as it made her forget how to breathe.  “Cruel.  Inexcusable.  Unforgivable.”  He let his hand fall back to his side with a soft sigh, “All would be appropriate words in this case.”   He started to turn and go but then paused, “Emmy, you are not of nightmares.  You are of the sweetest dreams; the ones that I never even knew I desired, knew I needed, until you.”  He shook his head, “I am sorry.  Good night Emmy.”

With that he turned from her, once more going to the elevator.  She stood in frozen silence as he waited for the doors to open.  It felt like an eternity as she fought for words to say, fought to still the racing of her mind.  She felt her body shaking and hated herself for it.

When he did finally step into the elevator, he looked at her one last time.  His expression visibly pained, tormented, and so lonely it made her ache.  She didn’t move, though something deep in her core was pushing her, telling her to go to him.  She couldn’t.  She couldn’t let herself surrender to him like that again, never again.

The doors closed and he was gone.  She stood there for another minute, took a deep breath, and pulled out her phone.  She scrolled through her contacts with shaking fingers till she found the name she wanted.  Then she selected it and started up the stairs, phone ringing in her ear.  

After she was halfway up, a voice sounded in her ear, “Emmy, so you do know that you can use the phone for more than just texting!  It’s a miracle.”

Despite her best efforts, her voice shook as she said, “I would take you up on those drinks now.”

“I’m getting on my coat now.”  There was a beat and some rustling from the other end of the line before a hesitant, “Are you alright?”

“I’ll be fine.  Just meet me at the Singing Maiden, if Bull is with you bring him along too.”

“As if I could stop him.  The man already has his coat on and is half out the door.”

She smiled as she reached the top of the stairs and headed down the hall to her office, “Good.  I’ll text Sera.”  She paused a beat, “And Dorian?”

She heard the slamming of a car door in the background, “Yes?”

“Thank you.  You’re the best.”

“Naturally.”

She gave a small genuine laugh, “See you soon, Dorian.”

With that, she hung up and went to gather her things.

#solavellan #solas #lavellan #solavellan fanfic #solavellan modern au #modern au #professor!solas #dragon age fanfiction #dragon age au #university au #merrill #dorian #my writing #my neighbor fen'harel #why you do feels solas #why #this was supposed to be my light fic #feels #suggestive flirting #flirting #i hate you but i love you #why do you do the thing

[love-in-nature]

My Neighbor, Fen’harel Chapter 8:  Let’s Pretend This Never Happened

All chapters found on my AO3.

They’d been at the bar for who the fuck knows how long.  She lost track somewhere after her second shot of tequila and third beer.  Then totally stopped caring and spilled the entire story about what happened between her and Solas to the group after her.... third.. no fifth... or... well some shot.  She’d lost track of that too.  Didn’t care.

Did not care.  

It was bliss.

Sera was also drunk at that point.  She was running about terrifying random men to arm wrestling competitions.  Something the first few had found hugely amusing until she beat them all.  Now every time she approached someone, or re-approached them as the case may be, they’d blanch and mumble excuses.

Dorian seemed slightly buzzed, and Bull seemed not affected at all.  That should change.

“More fuzzy navel nipple!”  She shouted as she pounded down her last empty shot glass.

Bull shook his head at the barkeep before looking at her, “First off, Boss, that’s not a thing.  Second, I think you’ve had enough.”

“Nooooooo.  You’ve only got four horns still.”

Bull raised an eyebrow and shook his head, “I’m gonna get the tab.”

She attempted to make pbbhhhtt sound with her tongue at him, but her lips felt funny, so she wasn’t sure how successful she was.  Her eyes turned to Dorian only to find him staring at her as though she’d grown another head.

“What your eyes?”

He raised a brow, “I’m going to assume you’re asking why I’m staring.”

“That.”

“You and Solas, that was really a thing?”

She scowled, “Do you need,”  She paused as she hunted for the word.

“Details?”  She nodded, and Dorian gave a slight wrinkle of his nose, “No.  I do know how that works I’m just amazed he had it in him and that you…”  He eyed her then leaned back, “Well, was he always like he is now?”

“Yes.” Amended, “No.”  It was difficult sorting through the sludge that was her brain at the moment.  

“Thank you.  That answered all my questions perfectly.”

Bull walked up with Sera slung over his shoulder cursing about how no one was brave enough to fight her.  His voice carried easily over hers, “Let’s get these two home.”

“I’ll walk.”  

At least that’s what she meant to say.  From the exchanged glance between Dorian and Bull, she’d guess that wasn’t how it came out.

Dorian walked over and wrapped a hand around her waist just as she started to stand up off the stool.  “Not so fast.  I’m not really in the mood to deal with a head injury tonight if you don’t mind.”

“I’m fffiiinnnneee, Dorian.”

He ignored her and kept his hand firmly at her waist.  She would have fought it more if the room wasn’t tilting so much.  To try and keep from losing the contents of her stomach to the whirlwind around her, she kept her eyes on Sera’s flailing upper body as they followed Bull outside.

Then there was blackness, and the next time she realized what was happening there was Bull’s face looking in at her as Sera drooled on her shoulder.

“Final stop, boss.  Let’s get you to bed.”  With one hand Bull reached across from her and tenderly moved Sera from Emmy’s shoulder to leaning back on the seat.  Sera gave a loud snore but didn’t wake.

“I don’t need help with bed.”

“Sure, boss.  I just want to see your new place again.”  He stood back so that she could step out and held his hand to her,  “Come on.”

She pouted and ignored his hand as she scooted her butt towards the open door of the car.  “Not your boss anymore, Bull.  I--”

As she stood and placed a foot down on the ground outside it swayed away from her violently.  In less than a beat, she was falling and then she was flying to land cradled against a warm body.  Her eyes looking up past horns to a twinkling night sky and, after a moment, to the familiar ceiling of her building.

There was the beep of the car being locked then Dorian’s voice behind them, “That’ll let us know if she wakes up while we’re taking care of this one.  Honestly, that I’m the sober one...”

Emmy reached up towards one of the, now many, Bull horns above her until her fingers hit one that was solid.  They traced over the ridges and pulled experimentally as Bull grunted.

“They’re attached to my head still, thanks for checking.”

“Welcome.”

There was another lapse of time in her mind, and suddenly they were in her hallway with Dorian holding her purse as he swung her door open.  They walked in, and she heard her door close again, and a curious meow from Darcy as Bull walked her into her bedroom.  Then he stopped just outside her door.

Chopin could be heard playing on the other side of her bedroom wall, clear as if she had it on in her room.  She let out a long groan at the images it brought and the memories that threatened to poke their way through her drunk haze.

She tried to focus on Bull’s face as he spoke but it was moving too much, “So Boss, this guy really did a number on you huh?”

Her brows furrowed, “No.  I---”  She gulped back air and realized she’d started to cry for some unfathomable reason, “Fine.”

“I have an idea.”

“Yes?”

Whatever was making Bull now grin Dorian had apparently caught on.  He came over as Bull crossed the door into Emmy’s bedroom, “This is a terrible idea.”

Bull let her fall on the bed rather unceremoniously, and she let out a little squeak of surprise.  Then Bull brought a finger in a shushing motion up to Dorian who rolled his eyes but leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed.

Darcy came up to jump onto the bed, rubbing his head against her face before he settled.  Bull gave him a look, paused, but then shrugged as his hands went to the end of the bed.  

“What---”

He pulled and then pushed, so her bed hit with a thud against the wall.  Darcy’s claws came out gripping the covers as he gave Bull a look that screamed, I dare you to try that shit again.  Emmy for her part was too confused to do anything.

Than Bull did do it again.  Darcy hissed and jumped off the bed darting past Dorian into the living room.  Bull repeated but this time gave a satisfied grunt, a very sexual in nature grunt.  Emmy’s eyes went big as saucers, but then he increased the bed movement till he had a steady motion going.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

She gripped the covers as he grinned at her and continued making the occasional lewd noise as a companion to his banging.  Her eyes went from Bull to Dorian who was still standing calmly despite the fact that his face was firehouse red.  That was enough to confirm that what she thought was happening was really happening.

Now she felt herself start to giggle uncontrollably and had to fight hard to hold it back.  Instead, she crawled her way up to the top part of her bed.  Then she started her attempt at little and moaning noises.

“Oh there, yes.”  

Dorian snickered now, and Bull caught her attention with a movement of his hand.  He brought his fingers up to his mouth shook his head slightly.  No talking then.  She went back to just making little fake mewling sounds.  

After another minute or so of that, the music on the other side of the wall abruptly shut off.  She waited with baited breath as Bull continued to bang her bed.  That must have gotten him.  Any minute now he’d be banging on the wall yelling at them to---

There was banging, but it wasn’t coming from her wall.  

Dorian straightened and schooled his features as he went into the living room.  Bull smirked and let her bed drop before he followed.  Her heart was pounding fast and hard in her throat as she quickly pulled her hair down and ruffled it.  

Without thinking, she pulled off her top, so she was only in her bra and pants then scurried off the bed.  She went into the doorframe and leaned against it in, what she thought was, a sexy but uninterested pose.  She forced her eyes to stay away from the door.

When Dorian opened it, she heard Solas speak immediately and he did not sound pleased, “What are--”

At the sudden stop in his words, she couldn’t help but look towards him.  He stood staring at her, his eyes intent and brows furrowed as his chest rose and fell in quick breaths.  A fact that was evident because he wore nothing but a pair of sweatpants, water still making his chest slick from the bath she knew he had been taking.

Dorian swung the door wider for him as he said, “Good you’re finally here, we were---”

“Having sex.”  She shouted across the room in an attempt to help the situation, a satisfied grin on her face.

Dorian looked at her and shook his head just a hint before pushing past Solas, “We have another one in the car.  Take care of her tonight, yes?  You can do that much at least.”

Solas’ mouth fell open before he snapped it shut looking between the three people in front of him.  Dorian pushed out into the hall and Bull followed but not before giving a warning, “I’m going to be calling her in the morning.”

With that, her two friends vanished down the hall leaving her alone with her half naked ex.  She scowled.  Correction, her two soon to be dead friends.  She was going to strangle them both.  As soon as her room stopped tilting.

With the room, her stomach began to heave horribly.  She would deal with the man who she wanted to bang, no not bang kill yes kill that’s it, when she was done with her toilet meeting.  By some miracle of nature, she managed to make it all the way there before she lost the contents of her stomach.

Once she flushed, she took a deep breath and moved to curl up on the tiles.  The coolness feeling absolutely delightful on her pounding temple.  Just a minute, just one more minute and she’d deal with that problem in her living room.  She heard soft footfall, a sigh, and then there was a hand placed on her head before she went into a blissful lack of awareness.

When she woke up again, it was to have her mouth opened as something was slipped in.  Her head pounded and stomach rolled again as she struggled.  

There was a calm, if somewhat annoyed voice, that spoke next to her.  “Stop squirming.  I have no intention of poisoning you, these will help.”  Solas’ hand was cradling her head as he placed a pill on her tongue and then brought a glass of water to her lips.  “Drink.”  When she did he lowered her gingerly down to the bed.

He set the water next to the bed, and his hand was on her forehead again feeling her temperature.  She blinked at him; her eyes managed to lock onto the familiar lines of his face as she said, “I’m not sick you know, just stupid.”  She gave a mournful sigh, “You’ll never let me live this down.”

“Emmy, hush.”  He let his hand brush softly over her forehead to her cheek, sweeping a strand of hair out of her face.  Then he adjusted her pillow a bit as he assessed her one last time.

She swallowed, “Ok.  Will you…” Her fingers picked at the sheets, and she looked away from him as she continued, “Please stay for a minute.  I mean, sorry that’s stupid, you don’t have--”

“I am not going anywhere, Emmy.”  Then so quietly that she thought she might have imagined it, “Never again.”  He bent down, hesitated, and then placed a soft kiss on her forehead before saying, “Now sleep.”

She got up once more at some time in the night.  With one hand he held a wastebasket under her while the other carefully kept her hair out of her face.  When she’d finished, he helped her settle back down before wiping her face with a wet cloth and placing another wet cloth on her head.  

She mumbled something incoherent, her brain still fogged from the pounding headache.  Then she brought a hand up, and her fingers brushed against his jaw.  He stiffened before releasing a lungful of air.  She brushed a line down his jawbone before placing her finger on the small dimple of his chin.  Only then did she pull her hand away and fall back to sleep.

When her eyes opened the next day, her head was clear and her stomach completely settled.  It still took her a while to figure out what the hell was going on.  This was not her room, she did not have soft gray walls, and she certainly did not have beautiful blue sheets that felt like how she’d imagine a cloud would feel.  

Then she sniffed and immediately her nostrils were filled with the delicious smells of sandalwood and books.  Before she realized what she was doing she had nuzzled her face further into the sheets.  When she did finally realize what all this meant she shot up in the bed eyes wide, a cloth falling onto her lap.

Bits and pieces of the night came back to her in a rush, and she groaned her humiliation.  She looked to the nightstand, and there was a half full glass of water.  Her fingers went down to lift the washcloth.  None of it had been a dream then.  He had cared for her all night, she had… gods she’d thrown up in front of him, and that wasn’t even the worst of it.  The whole fake sex thing was so---

Ugh.  Idiot, you’re a total moron Lavellan.

She shifted and pulled the covers off letting her legs go over the bed till the toes of her bare feet touched the floor.  Only then did she realize the best part.  She was in one of his shirts and that was it.  Well other than her bra and underwear, small blessings.

There was a vague memory of her tossing off her shirt in an attempt to… well to do something.  Something that had seemed like a great idea at the time.  But what the fuck had happened to her pants?  For that matter how had she gotten from her place to his in the first place?  Even more important, how would she get out of this without making any more of an idiot of herself?

Her eyes wandered the space again.  It was neat, mostly neutral tones, but there were bursts of color here and there.  The robin’s egg blue sheets, a beautiful landscape painting over the bed, curtains designed in a pattern that was somehow both intricate and understated, and a small stack of books on one night stand.  Everything about the space was so Solas it made her heart clench.

There was a soft knock from the direction of the door.  She turned towards the sound to find him standing there completely relaxed.  He was wearing a loose running tee, fitted running leggings that were a stark reminder of how he had the finest thighs she’d ever seen, and bare feet.  Thank the gods that the shirt was long enough to cover his crotch otherwise she might have turned to a complete drooling idiot.  As it was, she was having trouble forming words, but she wasn’t slathering at the mouth, more small blessings.

“I am glad to see you awake.  If you wish, feel free to use the bathroom.  I set out an unopened toothbrush for you and some toothpaste,” he gestured to a closed door opposite the windows she was facing.  “When you are done come out to the living area, and we can talk some.”

She squeaked out what must have been a passable, “ok,” because he gave her one of his soft smiles and turned to go back out.

With one last deep breath, she stood and padded her way into the bathroom.  Once there she took in the damage.  All things considered, it wasn’t awful.  She quickly ran her fingers through her hair to fix some of the flyaways before getting to work with brushing her teeth.  A small little sigh of pleasure escaped her as she brushed off all the yuck that came after a night like she’d had.  

Her eyes took in the space around her as she continued to brush, eyes stopping on the large soaking tub next to his glass shower.  She went over to it trying not to drool any toothpaste out of the corner of her mouth.  There were a few candles set up on one corner and a book on another.  She had been right; he still had that same bath habit.  

Her body started to flush at the thought that she was in a room he was regularly naked in.  That he had been naked in that bath just last night before they’d disturbed him with their childish sex show.  

She felt toothpaste start to try and leak out of the corner of her mouth and hurried to the sink to spit then rinse.  It was a welcome distraction, thinking too much on all that right now was not a good thing.  This whole situation was awkward enough without her being swamped with memories of him in a tub.

Once her mouth was clean, she turned to go to the other door in the bathroom that she assumed led out to his living space.  As her hand touched the handle, she felt her heart speed and stomach start to flutter.  She froze staring at the design of the wood on the door for at least a full minute until she realized she couldn’t stay in the bathroom forever.  Eventually, she’d have to face him.

Shutting her eyes, she inhaled and counted down from ten.  When she got to one, she opened her eyes once more and swung the door open walking out.  Her eyes immediately started to dart everywhere taking in the space around her.  

His apartment was at least twice the size of hers, a corner unit that had the balcony space wrapping around two sides.  She thought she saw a small garden on one of the sides, but it was hard to tell from here.  The living space itself was minimalist but comfortable.  Again it was mostly neutral colors with unexpected bursts of color here and there from things like the pillows on the couch.

The smell of coffee suddenly filled her nostrils, and she turned her head, nose flaring as she scented out the location.  Now her eyes took in the kitchen.  It too was bigger than hers and much neater.  Also probably had seen more actual cooking than hers ever would.  

Bonus, it also contained a strikingly handsome man.  Another thing she doubted her kitchen would ever have.  The man in question turned to her with a coffee mug in his hand.

“Good morning, Emmy.”  Solas held the cup out to her, “You still take your coffee with cream?”

“I--”  She swallowed, started again, “Yeah, does this mean you’ve started drinking coffee also?”

“No.  I have a coffee maker for if I have a guest who wants it.”

She eyed the cup wearily, “You didn’t have to make a whole pot just for me.  I can go a morning without.”

Solas chuckled, and the sounds sent warmth cascading over her, “If my previous knowledge is anything to go by that is a false statement.”  He continued to hold the cup out to her with a half smile, “If I wished to poison you, Emmy, I had plenty of opportunities last night.  I assure you it is safe to drink.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean…”  She shook her head and moved forward to take the mug from him.  When she did her fingers brushed against his sending a familiar jolt of electricity through her.  She cleared her throat, “Thank you.”

“It is nothing.”  He turned to the fridge and pulled out a carton of eggs setting them on the counter.  Then he bent down to get a frying pan out of a lower cabinet, the action giving her a great view of his perfectly sculpted rear.  Gods, she had never seen such a fine ass on anyone male or female.  He’d ruined her for all future butts.

“Do you still take your eggs over medium with two slices of dark toast?”

“Yes, but uhm, I mean you really don’t have to---”

He straightened and put the pan on the stove as he said, “I want to.  Sit.”  He gestured behind him at the bar area.

She hesitated debating how awkward it would be if she put down the mug then made a run for it.  Considering all he had done, and the fact she was wearing his shirt, probably pretty damn awkward. When she weighed her options just sitting was the best one at the moment, so she did as he asked making herself comfortable on one of the bar stools.

Before she took her first sip of coffee, she glanced down.  The ratio of cream to coffee was perfect, just enough to make it a lighter brown, exactly how she liked it.  She took a sip and said, “I’m surprised you remember all this.”

With a swift, graceful movement, he cracked the eggs on the side of the pan then took the shells over to the waste basket before he answered, “I am fortunate to have a very good memory when it comes to things that are of importance to me.”

She had been taking a sip of coffee when he spoke and nearly choked on it at his words.  Her heartbeat fluttered insistent against her skin, and her whole body tingled.  

This man had shattered her world.  Broke her heart into a million pieces and stayed away even when she needed him the most.  Now here she was, after one week of being with him, ready to jump his bones again.

And the award for person with the least amount of resolve and self-respect goes to… Emmy Lavellan.  Come on up Emmy, give a speech.

“I appreciate what you’ve done Solas but one night doesn’t make up for---”

“I am aware.”  He flipped her egg over, “But Emmy, I want to make it right.”

She looked down at the coffee mug she held cradled in her hands, fingers clenching tighter around it as she spoke quietly, “I don’t know if you can.”

There was a deep intake of breath, “I have to try.”

This was not a conversation to have first thing in the morning, she didn’t know when was a good time to have it, but she knew it wasn’t now.  “Let’s not do this right now ok?”

There was silence as he pulled a plate from an upper cabinet and put her eggs on.  Then he grabbed bread, placing two slices in the toaster, only then did he turn and come over to face her.  He leaned over the counter, so he was mere inches from her as his hand came up, his fingertips brushing over her fingers that still held firm to the warmth of the mug.

Her eyes came up to meet his, and her breath caught.  As she became completely trapped by his gaze, she couldn’t help the rush wishes that filled her.  Inarticulate needs rose to perilous levels inside of her, things she had worked so hard to contain now feeling as though they might make her erupt from the intensity of it.  How easy it would be to press her lips to his, just a small movement forward and she’d taste him again.

“For now, I will do as you ask.”  One more brush of his fingers along hers and he straightened, turning to go to the toaster that had finished her bread.  He put the toast on the plate then brought it over to her.  Then he opened a drawer grabbing a fork which he placed next to the plate.  “Eat up.”

Her eyes went from him, now busy cleaning up, back to her plate.  She was completely confused about what the fuck had just happened.  All she knew was that she now was finding it difficult to remember how her lungs worked.

Without looking at her he asked, “Is there something wrong with the eggs?”

“I---”  You what Emmy? “No, they’re good.  Thanks.”

Having trouble processing everything that was happening her body went into auto mode.  She set her coffee down and went to work eating the eggs.  The perfectly cooked and seasoned eggs because, of course, they would be perfect.  The little sigh of contentment that came from her at first bite was completely beyond her control.

As she greedily gobbled up her breakfast, Solas finished cleaning then leaned back against the counter opposite her.  When she finished putting the last bit of egg-soaked bread in her mouth she looked up to find him completely relaxed, hands gripping the counter and a smile on his face as he watched her.  

“How is your head?”

She worked to finish chewing the last bite then swallowed, “It’s perfectly fine.”  

Which, now that she thought of it, was odd.  All things considered, she should have the monster of hangovers now.  She vaguely remembered him waking her at one point to give her some kind of pills, was that what had done it?

“I am glad to hear it, but now I would like to go on my run before it gets too much warmer out.”

Oh, a dismissal then, but she should have known.  It was one of his running days and, even if she hadn’t remembered his habits, the running outfit was enough of an indicator.  So why did she suddenly want to grip the counter and not let go?  Why did she so desperately want to stay in this place surrounded by everything that was him?

She managed to push out words in a surprisingly cheery voice,  “Yeah, of course.  Sorry I kept you.  You could’ve just kicked me out when I woke up you know.  In fact,” she stood and looked at him her head tilted a touch, “Why am I in your apartment?”

“It was more convenient for me to care for you here.”  He went over to take her plate, and she started to say she’d do it but he stopped her, “I’ll clean it when I get home.”  He took it over to the sink and said, “I also fed your cat, Darpy?  Dashy?  You were shouting a name which I presumed was the cats, but you were not exactly clear.”

She felt heat rise to her cheeks and mumbled, “Darcy and thanks for that too.”

He smirked, “Darcy?  As in Pride and Prejudice Darcy?”

She frowned, “Yes, why?”

“I suppose I just did not see you liking that book character, much less liking him enough to name your cat after him.”  

She started toward the door, and he followed behind, “Why?  I clearly have a thing for arrogant, know-it-all, men who have trouble getting close to people.”

She had expected some kind of snappish response, but to her astonishment, he chuckled.  “I will keep that in mind.” They were at the door, and he reached around her, his chest brushing against her shoulder as he went to open it for her.  Which meant when he spoke his mouth was close enough to her ear that the words tickled her skin,  “It means I still have a chance.”  

He took a step back from her and gestured out the door.  Completely unable to form any cohesive thoughts, much less words, she moved out of his apartment.  He walked out behind her shutting the door before starting down the hall towards the elevators.

When he got to the elevator doors, he pressed the button and glanced down the corridor to her as he said, “Have a good day Emmy.  You can bring back my shirt whenever you are done with it.”

The ding of the doors sounded, and he walked into the elevator leaving her frozen in the hallway.

#solavellan #solavellan modern au #solavellan fanfic #solavellan fanfiction #solas #lavellan #emmy lavellan #emmy x solas #drunk shenanigans #drunk #drunk lavellan #dragon age fanfiction #dragon age au #modern au #my writing #my neighbor fen'harel

[love-in-nature]

My Neighbor, Lavellan: Great Temptations

Read full story on my AO3.

This is written to go with chapter 4 and 5 of My Neighbor, Fen’harel.

Warning: This chapter is semi-nsfw.  There is nothing truly explicit in it so I didn’t tag it but there is a small bit that is enough I figured I should give a small warning ;)

Solas leaned forward in the hot bath water to blow out the last of the candles that he had lined along the edge.  The book he had been reading, or rather trying to read, was safely discarded on the side of the tub where it would not risk becoming wet.  Another benefit of this apartment, it had a good sized soaking tub with a ledge all around that allowed him to indulge in this small pleasure.

As he reached over to open the drain, he released a small sigh.  Tonight the indulgence had not kept its usual appeal.  Instead of focusing on the words in front of him, his mind had been securely lodged on memories of her, and on the small bark of laughter that he had heard so clearly on the other side of the wall.

There had been no one in that apartment since he had moved in.  He had no idea that the walls would be that thin.  No.  Not walls, wall, it seemed only to be the bedroom.  An odd room to have that oversight on, one would think it would be a place where thick walls were desired.  Certainly if things were different, if he had her in his bed and another neighbor next door, he would be receiving regular complaints.  Then again she had always been beautifully vocal in her lust and if he had the chance again he would---

Enough.

He scowled at the direction his thoughts had gone and curled his fingers several times as he tried to chase such musings from his mind.  She was not his to think such things about anymore.  If his own reasons for staying away had not been enough, the hate in her eyes when she looked at him surely was.  She would never let him touch her again, even if he should ever be fool enough to try.  

There was an uncomfortable constriction in his chest as he stood.  The water dripped down his skin, the steam doing little to ease the contrast of the cold air on his heated body.  He shivered and reached for his towel to dry himself off as the water drained from around his legs.  As he did so, he scowled once again at the semi-erection that had formed at the thoughts of her in his bed.  

He ignored his arousal as he continued his drying off.  By the time he was dry it had receded.  It was his custom to sleep in the nude, so he hung his towel neatly before picking up his book and going back to his bedroom.  When he entered, he went to set the book carefully on his night stand then reached for the stereo remote to turn off his music.  

Once quiet surrounded him, his ears twitched as he listened for her.  There was nothing but silence that felt thick in the air around him.  She had either gone to sleep or was doing something that made no discernable noise.  Not that it was any of his business.  Not that he now hung on the chance to hear the slightest sound from her, to know that she was so close to him.

With a shake of his head, he went to his bed and pulled back the soft robin’s egg blue sheets.  Then he slid into them, the cotton brushing against his skin as though pointing out that he was still affected by his earlier thoughts, his skin more sensitive than normal.  As he pulled the sheets up, he allowed his hands to rest on them.  The moonlight shone in from the windows reflecting on his arms and bed.  For a moment he debated shutting the curtains.  

She had a deep adoration for the night sky and the soft light of the moon.  

He would let the curtains remain open.

With one last wiggle to make himself comfortable, he shut his eyes and tried to sleep.  The act took him much longer than usual.  When he did, it was also lighter than normal, which was saying a lot because he always slept lightly.

This was why he woke almost instantly when he heard the sounds coming from the other side of the wall.   She was talking.  Not talking.  Moaning.  Little sounds of pleasure that set fire to his senses.  

In less than a beat he was sitting up in his bed.  His heart thudding against his skin and in his ears as all the little hairs rose on his arms and nape.  When she mewled again, his fingers clenched the sheets.  A pained sound escaping from deep in his throat.

He threw off the covers and hurried out of his bed.  This was not his to have anymore.  He would not, could not, stay here and listen to her.  He---

“There.  Solas… I…”

Solas.

His hands clenched and his knees felt weak.  Her words had made him freeze mid-step.  His name.  She had moaned his name.  She was dreaming about him.  

The way the blood pounded in his ears, he was surprised he heard the next part, “Solas.  In me, now.  I need you to--”  

Her words were swallowed by a cry of pleasure and he fled the room.  Desperate to rid himself of the sound, he hurried into his living room and turned on the rarely used tv, pressing down on the volume button until the sound engulfed him.  He did not even register what was on.  Did not care.  

He sunk onto his couch and put his face in his hands, gulping in deep, shaky breaths of air.  His arousal continued to throb through him, her words sticking to his skin, clawing into his mind and refusing to let go.  It was too much.  He had no place, no right to do this, but he needed.  He needed so badly.

With a growl of frustration, he wrapped his fingers around his erection.  Then he leaned back on the couch, shutting his eyes as he let his head fall back.  When he moved along himself, it was rough, merciless, almost violent in his need and irritation at himself for being so weak.  He did not bother with any lubrication, taking the pain of rubbing himself raw with the pleasure.  

It did not take long.  As he spilled his heat along his hand and stomach, he sighed out her name.  The word a caress along his tongue.  It had been so long since he had allowed that name to pass his lips.  Now it came out like a plea for salvation.  One that he feared, that he knew, could never come.

Once his body had stilled, he inhaled once more and stood.  He went into his bathroom to clean himself before going into his bedroom and quickly grabbing his clothing.  Luckily she seemed to have quieted, so he was able to be in and out without any other incidents.  

As soon as he was dressed he shut off the tv, gathered his briefcase, and was out the door.  He would be early to work even for him, but he did not care.  He needed out of that space, needed air, distractions, anything really but her so near him and yet so far.

-----------------------------------------------

The rest of his day went by as usual.  For once he was happy that the student’s expected nothing but an overview of the course syllabus on their first day of classes.  Usually, he would have done more eliciting a chorus of complaints from his students.  Today he was apart from himself and welcomed the easiness of simply stating what was expected for the semester.

When his last class had ended, he headed to his office.  He shut the door behind him and went over to sit in his chair allowing his head to lean back for a moment.  This could not happen again.  Perhaps he should invest in earplugs for when he slept.  

There was a lingering headache from this morning that still pounded incessantly at his temple.  He pinched the bridge of his nose and gave an annoyed huff before he straightened in his chair.  Determined to get something useful done today he turned on his computer and opened his e-mail.

It had been his intent to check on the status of the documents that were being sent to him and to see if Tethras had responded to his previous inquiry on the latest article publication he had sent out.  This was dashed the moment a ding sounded, and a new e-mail showed up in his inbox.  All other plans were forgotten as his attention focused on the message that had just arrived.

His heart beat an unsteady rhythm against his rib cage as he double clicked on her name.

Recipient: Fen’harel

Subject: Thank you

Thank you for your help and for the compliment.  Don’t be too eager to be rid of me, hahren.  I’m sure I still will need your help with things like this on occasion.  As for having something to tell you, I’ve got a new job and have moved to a place called Haven.  But you knew this didn’t you?  Or you wouldn’t have asked.

You continue to know so much about me when I know so little about you.  You could tell me who you are you know.  I’m very good at keeping secrets.

Are you angry with me, hahren?  It is unlike you to so blatantly pry into my personal life.  Usually you make a point of avoiding it.  

But, for your information, I was waiting till I got settled more and I would have told you.  I don’t even have internet at my place yet.  Of course, if you gave me a cell number I could have just texted or called.

Emmy

In an ideal world, he could tell her the whole truth.  In an ideal world, he would never have had to leave her, to begin with.  This was not an ideal world, however, and he would do what he needed to in order to help her and keep her safe.  Even if it meant hiding the fact that Fen’harel and Solas were one in the same from her.  Though it always brought a bitter taste to his mouth when he thought of it.

He clicked on the compose message button, but before he even started typing a response, he paused.  The e-mail had just come in which meant she was likely at a computer still.  He could send her a chat.  It would be impulsive, reckless, and he should not.  Whenever he had in the past it was always too easy, too tempting, to take it places he could not.  He should just e-mail her.  

He opened the chat service and put in her name.

Fen’harel: I am not angry.  Simply curious.  As for how I know, I have my fair share of eyes and ears.  

There were a few moments where nothing happened.  The clock on the wall in front of him ticking the seconds by as his eyes remained glued to the screen.  He fidgeted then sighed.  This was good.  She must have left already.  He should have just e-mailed her in the---

Then it popped up on the bottom, “Emmy is typing…”  He leaned forward as his stomach fluttered.

Emmy: You started a chat with me! :D I should mark the occasion on my calendar.  

Emmy: Also, is that your way of saying you’re having me watched?  Do you have a trail on me or something?  D:  Creepy, wolfie!

A chuckle escaped his lips, and his hand went up to cover his mouth.  He started to type a response but it came out teasing, flirtatious, and he quickly deleted it.  Now was the time to tread carefully.  He started typing a new response that had a more serious tone despite the soft smile he knew resided on his lips.

Fen’harel: Do not make me regret it already, da’len.  And no.  I am not having you followed; it was pure coincidence that I happened to find out about your change of location.  I did not know what it was for, only that you had moved.  What is this new job of yours?

Emmy: Oh it’s amazing.  You’d adore it, but I’m not going to tell you.

He frowned then and quickly typed in his response.

Fen’harel: Why?

Emmy: It isn’t fair that you know so much about me, but I know nothing about you.  Not even your real name or what you look like.  I don’t even know your gender. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

He gave a little grunt of annoyance as his eyebrows rose just a touch.

Fen’harel: I should have thought the last would have been obvious.

Emmy: Why would it be obvious?  It may be common for parents to name their kids after elven gods, but Fen’harel isn’t one you hear often.  Plus, with how secretive you are I highly doubt you’d publish under your real name.  Or perhaps you presumed I’d know based on context of past conversations?  

Emmy: You don’t have to be a male to want to get into bed with me.  

Emmy: Just because you can be flirty sometimes, almost had online sex with me the one time, and you chose a male pen name doesn’t automatically mean you’re male.

His throat felt thick as he read the lines she had sent.  This was going off track.  He needed to redirect and fast.  He started to type a long, impersonal response about how his gender was hardly an important topic.  How he did not want to get into bed with her, a lie.  He desperately wanted in bed with her.  In bed.  Against the wall.  In a bath.  On the floor.  Anywhere.  Everywhere.

He gave a growl of frustration and deleted the whole thing he had typed.  His fingers came up to pinch the bridge of his nose as it wrinkled beneath his fingertips.  Then a ding sounded, and he removed his hand to read what she wrote.

Emmy: I’m sorry, I was just teasing.  I know you’re not actually interested in me at like that.  I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.  

She thought he did not want her.  Good, that was good he should let her think that.  When he typed, it was not what he had planned it to be.  It was the opposite.  Two simple sentences.

I want you.  I want you so badly I burn with it.

Immediately he deleted it with a grimace and slight shake of his head.  Then he started to type once again.  Started to type the lie telling her she was correct in her assumption, but he could not get past the first word of it before he deleted it.  Tried again.  Failed again.

He fidgeted and stood feeling like his skin was too tight on his body.  With almost jerky movement he walked from his computer to look out his window his fingers clenching and unclenching.  He rolled his neck, then with an impatient huff, turned back to sit swiftly at his computer and typed a response, hitting send before he could think better of it.

Fen’harel: You presume much today, lethallan.

He realized what he had typed and winced.  That had been a mistake, but it was too late to take it back.  All he could do was make it clear that, even if he wanted her, they did not have a future.

Fen’harel: Wanting something and being able to act on such desires are two separate things.  You should not care for me.  You do not even know who I truly am, as you stated yourself.

There was a pause and then the typing icon came up at the bottom of his screen.  He waited, time measured by the pulsing of his heart against his throat.

Emmy: I don’t know what you look like.  Looks are not nearly as important as the rest.   All you’ve done for me.  All we’ve shared even though it is just in e-mails.  I feel more myself with you than anyone around me in person.  When I imagine you being with me I can’t picture you but I feel you.

He reread her words over and over.  The last three words making him feel light headed as they repeated in his mind.  Heat flooded his body, and he found it was difficult to take in a full breath.  Then his fingers were typing, though he swore he had no control over them.

Fen’harel: You imagine such things, how I feel?

Just as he hit send, he realized the foolishness of what he had written.  The impossibility of where it would lead, where he could not afford to go.  His breath hitched, and he typed quickly to try to repair his mistake.

Fen’harel: Stop.

Fen’harel: I can not continue this, Emmy.  We should not.  

Emmy: You don’t imagine things like that?  How I’d taste against your lips.  

Emmy: What my skin would feel like against yours.  The sounds I’d make.  How we’d be mad with lust for each other.

Emmy: I’m guessing the first time would be rough and hungry.  Then again a while later, slow and sensual.

Every damn day.  

There had not been a day since he had left her that he had not thought of her.  That he had not thought what it would be like to take her again.  That he had not though how he wanted to devour her whole.  

He felt himself growing hard beneath his desk at her words.  The fact that she thought about this also.  The memory of her voice this morning and---

“Solas.  I just knew I would find you here.”

He jerked hard enough that his hips slammed into his desk along with another now prominent member of his body.  The string of curses that came from his mouth would have made the most experienced prostitute blush.  

Dorian’s eyes were wide from the door, “I had no idea you had such colorful vocabulary.  You are always so…”  He eyed Solas’ outfit, “nondescript.”

Solas quickly clicked to minimize his internet as he scowled at Dorian.  “Did you require something or did you simply wish to hear yourself talk?”

He gave a mock expression of horror, “Solas, have I offended you?”

“If you have, why would it concern you?”

“Because we’re here working together for a common cause, to attempt to lower the amount of idiocy in this world,” Dorian had walked into his office and was now absent-mindedly pulling out books from his shelves before replacing them, “and because I respect your teaching abilities.”

Solas lips thinned and he inhaled audibly through his nose, “What favor do you want of me, Dorian?”

Dorian put the last book back on the shelf with a force that made Solas scowl.  Then he turned to face Solas with his hands up and said, “Can’t a colleague just come to chat with another colleague?”  He lowered his hands and walked to Solas’ side glancing at the computer screen before continuing,  “Bond over the first day and what the mass of students seems to offer so far.”

“No.”

Dorian gave an exaggerated sigh, “We seem to have a mutual friend, so I was offering an olive branch.”  He leaned against the bookshelf closest to Solas and crossed his arms as he asked, “How do you know our lovely Emmy?”

“Ah.”  Solas shook his head and stood from his desk. By now his arousal was no longer an issue so he could stand without worry as he replied, “Not that it is any of your concern, but she was a student of mine in the past.”

“There seemed to be more to it.”  Dorian wiggled his eyebrows, “A torrid love affair perhaps?  Now that would be a true surprise.”

He felt the pulse in his jaw twitch and took another deep breath, “I have work to do.  If you have nothing relevant, then I must ask that you leave.”  He went over to the door and held it open wider, “Was there anything else?”

Dorian gave another exaggerated sigh before he stood, “No but you really should get out more, come join us for drinks sometime, staying holed up in your office all day does no favors for your complexion.”  As he passed Solas to go out the door his eyes took in his outfit again, “I could take you shopping sometime.”

“I will keep the offer in mind, but for now, as thrilling as letting you use me as a dress-up doll sounds, I have matters to attend to.”

The moment Dorian had stepped out of the threshold Solas started to close the door.  As he did Dorian leaned over and said, “Good-bye for now.  Call me for a shopping date.”

He shut the door and clicked the lock on it as his teeth clenched.  Then a ding sounded from his computer, and his attention was immediately redirected.  

It took some willpower to force himself to walk at a normal pace back to his desk.  He set in his chair and brought back up the chat.  His heart fluttering.  When he read her words heat filled his face.

Emmy: Have you fled from me or are your hands too busy doing other things to type ;).  Maybe I should make my hands busy too.  Certainly in the mood for it now.

Though her words started to stir the flames in him again, Dorian had been good for something.  He had brought Solas back to the reality around him.  

Fen’harel: I am at work.  Please desist this.

Emmy: I’m at work too ;)

Emmy: Wait, does that mean if you weren’t at work you’d play along?

Impossible.  She was utterly impossible, and he needed to stop this.

Fen’harel: That is enough of this game of yours.  If you do not wish to tell me of your new situation, then I will not force the matter.  I must go.

Emmy: An archivist

A weight fell in his chest as his thoughts scrambled over her words.  An archivist.  The university had recently hired a new head archivist, but he had not paid it much mind at the time.  He was in the archives enough he knew he would meet them before long and would assess then.  

It could not be; she could not be.  He started a question, deleted, started again, deleted.  His fingers went up to rub his eyelids before he took a small intake of breath and typed simply;

Fen’harel: An archivist, where?

Emmy: I would’ve thought you’d know that, all seeing one.

His head throbbed.

Fen’harel: Amuse me.

Emmy: Why?  You didn’t want to play with me when it was my game.  

Emmy: It’s my first day, stop distracting me.  I’ll send you an e-mail when I get my home internet set-up.  

Emmy: Good-bye wolfie. :*

Even as the truth was facing him squarely, he could not bring himself to accept it.  He pushed back his chair and started to leave.  Then stopped himself.  He started to pace his office with his hands clasped firmly behind his back.

He needed to know for sure.  If it was true, he needed undeniable proof.  He could storm over there now.  There were plenty of reasons for him to be there.  When he got there, he could casually question Merrill about the status of the new head archivist.  

What if she was there?  What if he unintentionally ran into her?  Given all that had happened today he did not think he would be able to handle that well.  He did not think he could keep his composure as well as he must.  Not after everything.  Not after her words.  The sounds she had made this morning and what he had done in response.

No.  He would not risk it.  He would wait till tonight when she would have left the office.  Then he would go and investigate.  He had been given access to the archives and their offices so he would be able to let himself in and out without anyone knowing.  

A plan firmly in place he went to sit at his desk one more and attempted to focus his mind on finishing up the final touches of his lesson plans.

#solavellan #solas pov #solas #modern au #solavellan fiction #solavellan fanfiction #modern solavellan au #lavellan #dorian #professor!solas #semi-nsfw #dragon age inquisition #fanfiction #solas fanfiction #my writing #my neighbor fen'harel #my neighbor lavellan

[love-in-nature]

My Neighbor, Fen’harel Chapter 5: Playing Games

Read on AO3.

It wasn’t until her workday was almost over that Emmy found herself in her new office.  There had been a lot to do this first day to get an idea of the place.  They had to go over current cataloging methods, storage areas, how different things were dealt with here, the university's procedures for receiving donations, the procedure for denying donations, the procedure for acquiring things, and so on.  Some were fun.  Most were pure legalities and paperwork.

She hadn’t even minded the boring stuff.  She would have gladly waded through a pool full of paperwork to spend five minutes with the eluvian.  Even damaged it had been the most stunning thing Emmy had ever laid eyes on.  

It was tarnished, the glass spotted with age, but even so it was incredible.  It was intricately designed and, oddly, had a wolf sculptured at the top as a focal point.  To her knowledge it was uncommon for symbols of Fen’harel to show up on things like this.  Not that anyone knew much about these.

When the eluvian were mentioned in ancient texts, they appeared to be spoke of as some kind of transportation system.  It was not impossible that their translations were wrong; much of the language had been lost after all.   Even if it was correct it could be more symbolizing or myth.  Tales to tell each other over a fire.  The same texts sometimes spoke of gods and magic as though they were facts of everyday life.  So it was sometimes hard to tell what was fact and what was fiction with ancient Elvhen documents.  Though, some did argue it was all historical fact.

As if magic and gods could exist.  A preposterous thought.  She put it right up there with all the talk of there being a maker.  If either of those things were true, then surely they’d be in a much different world than the one they found themselves in.  

Whatever the eluvians were, this one was the first that she knew of being found.  The rest were either hidden away by private collectors, clans, or still lost to the modern world.  It was a true treasure.  A piece of her people, of the history long lost to them.  Her clan’s keeper, Deshanna, would want to know.

She set down at her desk and turned on her work computer.  Once she was logged in she first went to double check her new work e-mail.  Nothing much there.  Just a welcome e-mail from the dean.  Though she imagined it would be filled before too long with various work things.  Her internet would be set up by the end of the week at her home so she’d be able to keep up with it there as well.

That done, she went to her personal e-mail.  When she opened it there was some spam.  An e-mail from Sera.  Probably her usual fair of some kind of lewd joke or disgusting video.  Emmy skipped that for now.  Then there was an e-mail from Fen’harel.

Her stomach fluttered a bit at the name, as it always did.  A ridiculous thing considering she had no idea who this person was calling himself Fen’harel.  They’d been exchanging e-mails for over a year and a half.  She’d still not told a soul about it.  Partly because she knew some, like Cassandra, would worry about her communicating with someone she knew no real facts about.  Partly, because of who he was to her clan.

Fen’harel was a pen name that was used by one of the most outspoken critics of the Dalish and their methods of preserving their history.  If Deshanna, or anyone in her clan, learned that Emmy had been speaking to him on a regular basis she would be in for it.  At the very least she would get a month long lecture.  At the worst she would be kicked out of the clan.

He was that bad.

They’d started talking when he’d written a particularly scathing article on the Dalish corruption of history.  Their close mindedness and inability to see anything beyond what they thought was true.  Being the clan’s First she was, of course, one of the ones to be shown this article.  Her anger had been great.

Immediately, she’d hunted around to try and find out who this man was so she could confront him.  Even after exhausting all her resources all she’d managed to get was an e-mail.  She’d sent a thorough response to the article.  In the end it was several pages long and seething.  

The extent of her rage was huge.  Looking back now she could admit much of it was probably a redirect from the rage and hurt she still felt from Solas’ vanishing act.  After all, it had only been two months since he’d left.

Weeks went by with no reply.  It got to the point where she figured she’d either gotten the wrong e-mail or he was ignoring her.  She’d set her mind on writing him again.  If he didn’t reply she’d hassle him till he did.  Then, out of the blue, she received a curt reply back.  To which she responded with another long e-mail.  This back and forth went on until, somehow, hostility turned to grudging interest.  

Then, the Temple of Sacred Ashes happened.  

She had pulled into herself completely.  There was breath in her lungs, a beat to her heart, but she was not alive.   Not truly.  She had become a puppet.  A figurehead for the group that had been formed to find the truth of what happened at the Temple of Sacred Ashes The sole survivor was a fake.  She had not survived it.  Not mentally.  Not emotionally.  

Fen’harel started e-mailing her more regularly a few weeks after the incident.  Instead of hostile e-mails they contained random articles on historical finds or explanation of a text he had come across.  The first few she skimmed but didn’t truly register.  

He persisted and after a while she started to reply.  If she was honest with herself, much of her reasons for replying probably resided in the fact that he sounded like Solas.  The way he wrote reminded her so much of her ex-lover and, despite her hate for Solas, she still had loved him.  She still found comfort in the familiarity it brought.

Then, as they wrote back and forth with increasing frequency, she no longer only spoke to him because of the reminder.  He was someone she could talk to without fear of judgment.  Someone who saw her as she was not as the Inquisitor.  She came to look forward to his e-mails.  

She remembered the first time he had agreed to chat with her online.  How her heart had pounded with nerves and excitement.  

They’d chatted for several hours.  The chat turning flirtatious, intimate, and almost sexual before he told her he couldn’t and signed out.  Since then he had only gone into chat with her a handful of times.  All of them brief and as professional as he kept his e-mails.  This didn’t keep her from daydreaming of a day she might meet him.  As ridiculous as such a thing was.

The subject of his current e-mail was, “as requested” and she knew it was the corrected translations she had sent him to look at.  She smiled as she clicked on the message.

Recipient: Emmy

Subject: As Requested

Attached are the corrected translations of the document you asked me to look at.  I am impressed.  There were only a few errors.  Your ancient Tevene has improved greatly and rapidly.  There were only a few minor adjustments.  I believe you will no longer need my help on such things.

Dar’eth,

Fen’harel

She felt herself swell with pride at his words.  Though he was always kind to her, he was not one to offer empty compliments.  So, to have him comment on her progress, was a big deal to her.  Then she read the last added line and her pride was replaced with confusion.

P.S. Is there something you need to tell me da’len?

Was he referring to her new job and location?  If so how did he even know about it?  She’d taken cares for it not to be known.  After being in the public eye so long she had been eager to be out of it.  Not that she wasn’t going to tell him but…

She shook her head and swiveled in her chair, thinking for a moment before she moved to reply.

Recipient: Fen’harel

Subject: Thank you

Thank you for your help and for the compliment.  Don’t be too eager to be rid of me, hahren.  I’m sure I still will need your help with things like this on occasion.  As for having something to tell you, I’ve got a new job and have moved to a place called Haven.  But you knew this didn’t you?  Or you wouldn’t have asked.

You continue to know so much about me when I know so little about you.  You could tell me who you are you know.  I’m very good at keeping secrets.

Are you angry with me, hahren?  It is unlike you to so blatantly pry into my personal life.  Usually you make a point of avoiding it.  

But, for your information, I was waiting till I got settled more and I would have told you.  I don’t even have internet at my place yet.  Of course, if you gave me a cell number I could have just texted or called.

Emmy

She hit send before opening up a new e-mail.  She typed in Deshanna’s e-mail and started.  It took her several minutes to go over everything.  Her new apartment and how lovely it was.  The job.  How much Deshanna would love all the history available here and how she definitely needed to come for a visit to see for herself.  Finally, she went in some depth about the eluvian.  Though, she emphasised that it was really something that Deshanna needed to see in person because there were no adequate words.

As soon as she hit send on that e-mail a small beep sounded from the computer.  It indicated a chat message and her brows furrowed.  When she clicked on the e-mail clients chat and saw who it was her eyes widened a bit before she smiled.

Fen’harel: I am not angry.  Simply curious.  As for how I know, I have my fair share of eyes and ears.  

Emmy: You started a chat with me! :D I should mark the occasion on my calendar.  

Emmy: Also, is that your way of saying you’re having me watched?  Do you have a trail on me or something?  D:  Creepy, wolfie!

There was the little, “Fen’harel is typing,” notice on the bottom of the chat.  Then it stopped.  Started again and finally he sent something.

Fen’harel: Do not make me regret it already, da’len.  And no.  I am not having you followed, it was pure coincidence that I happened to find out about your change of location.  I did not know what it was for, only that you had moved.  What is this new job of yours?

As if she would tell him that easily.  He already had the upper hand.  Sure she would have sent it in an e-mail but him asking about it first had brought to the front of her mind the fact that he knew all about her and she nothing about him.  So, she’d play him along a bit first.

Emmy: Oh it’s amazing.  You’d adore it, but I’m not going to tell you.

Fen’harel: Why?

Emmy:  It isn’t fair that you know so much about me but I know nothing about you.  Not even your real name or what you look like.  I don’t even know your gender. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Fen’harel: I should have thought the last would have been obvious.

She smirked, thinking for a beat before she replied.

Emmy: Why would it be obvious?  It may be common for parents to name their kids after elven gods, but Fen’harel isn’t one you hear often.  Plus, with how secretive you are I highly doubt you’d publish under your real name.  Or perhaps you presumed I’d know based on context of past conversations?  

Emmy: You don’t have to be a male to want to get into bed with me.  

Emmy: Just because you can be flirty sometimes, almost had online sex with me the one time, and you chose a male pen name doesn’t automatically mean you’re male.

Immediately the typing notice came on.  It went for several moments before stopping.  She waited, her eyes glued to the screen as her fingers tapped a nervous rhythm on the desk.  Had she overdone it?  Did he think she was chastising him about the sex and flirting stuff?  Unable to wait anymore she started typing again.

Emmy: I’m sorry, I was just teasing.  I know you’re not actually interested in me at like that.  I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.  

The typing symbol came up and her pulse sped a bit.  Why her stupid heart kept acting up so much today was beyond her.  Must be everything going on, not to mention seeing Solas again.  She frowned at him popping into her head, at the same moment the typing icon stopped again.

“It’s like he fucking knew.”

Then it started again.  Stopped.  Started.  Finally he sent a reply.

Fen’harel: You presume much today, lethallan.

Her eyes widened.  She presumed much what?  There was the spying, and then… was he admitting he felt attracted to her too?  Then why hadn’t he tried to go any further?  Why had he gone out of his way to redirect when she tried to flirt?

Fen’harel: Wanting something and being able to act on such desires are two separate things.  You should not care for me.  You do not even know who I truly am, as you stated yourself.

Emmy: I don’t know what you look like.  Looks are not nearly as important as the rest.   All you’ve done for me.  All we’ve shared even though it is just in e-mails.  I feel more myself with you than anyone around me in person.  When I imagine you being with me I can’t picture you but I feel you.

This had escalated into something entirely different from what she had expected.  Probably something that she should not be partaking in at work but, she couldn’t help it.  They were finally talking about it.  She wasn’t about to stop it now if he allowed the discussion.  

Although, he was taking long enough to respond that she thought maybe he had decided to end it by simply not speaking anymore.  Then the typing started again followed quickly by a ding.

Fen’harel: You imagine such things, how I feel?

Then before she could even start her response.

Fen’harel: Stop.

Fen’harel: I can not continue this, Emmy.  We should not.  

Please, say he was just talking the flirting.  Then again she didn’t want to let it go that easy.  He’d admitted he was attracted, so why?  

Emmy: You don’t imagine things like that?  How I’d taste against your lips.  

Emmy: What my skin would feel like against yours.  The sounds I’d make.  How we’d be mad with lust for each other.

Emmy: I’m guessing the first time would be rough and hungry.  Then again a while later, slow and sensual.

There was nothing for a full minute from him and she frowned.  Still, at this point it was all or nothing.

Emmy: Have you fled from me or are your hands too busy doing other things to type ;).  Maybe I should make my hands busy too.  Certainly in the mood for it now.

The typing started again.

Fen’harel: I am at work.  Please desist this.

Emmy: I’m at work too ;)

Emmy: Wait, does that mean if you weren’t at work you’d play along?

Fen’harel: That is enough of this game of yours.  If you do not wish to tell me of your new situation, then I will not force the matter.  I must go.

Not like that you don’t, woflie.  She quickly typed the one thing she thought would get him to stay.

Emmy: An archivist

There was typing, stopping, typing, and stopping.  Now her brows furrowed.  Honestly, it wasn’t like she had told him she was a spy or gone into the porn industry or something.  He knew her passions.  Surely her pursuing a career as an archivist wasn’t that far fetched.

Fen’harel: An archivist, where?

Emmy: I would’ve thought you’d know that, all seeing one.

Fen’harel: Amuse me.

Emmy: Why?  You didn’t want to play with me when it was my game.  

Emmy: It’s my first day, stop distracting me.  I’ll send you an e-mail when I get my home internet set-up.  

Emmy: Good-bye wolfie. :*

With that she logged out of her chat before she let the conversation drag on any further.  She really did need to go over these final legal documents before she headed home today.  If she stayed on with him any longer she probably wouldn’t get home till after 8.

She looked at the small stack of papers still awaiting her attention and sighed.  Then her eyes shifted to the now empty tea mug Merrill had given her.  She reached for it and stood.  First she’d go make some tea, then she’d focus and get the last of this paperwork finished.

Earl Grey work your magic, buddy.

#solavellan #solavellan modern au #modern au #solas #solavellan fanfiction #my neighbor fen'harel #my writing #dragon age inquisition fanfiction

[love-in-nature]

My Neighbor Fen’harel Chapter 4

*For Better Or Worse, The Past Is Everywhere

Link to full work on AO3.

This is a smut chapter, happy Solas smut Saturday.  Opening with Emmy Lavellan having a wet dream, in more ways than one XD.  

The bath water was hot over Emmy’s skin.  The air full of steam smelling of lavender and vanilla.  She picked up a handful of bubbles bringing them up to her face to form a beard.  The suds tickling her skin.  She quickly covered a sneeze when one tried to go up her nose.

Solas chuckled, “I do not believe they are meant to be inhaled.”

She reached up to wipe the remaining suds off her face, “You don’t say.”  She then swept that same hand over the surface of the water.  The motion sending bubbles towards him.  The water rising and falling in gentle waves over his perfect torso.  Only the area just a little above his nipples could be seen out of the water but it was enough to prove a distraction.  

He was leaning back in the tub across from her.  One leg on each side of her body so she could feel him against her under the water.  The arm that held his novel was now hanging over the edge of the bath, book dangling from his fingers.  

If he was done reading she could suggest other things he could be doing with his hand.

He watched her, his expression soft, “What is going through that mind of yours?”

“Lots of things.  Almost all of them horrifically lewd.”

“Ah,” She felt his leg caress along hers as he leaned forward in the tub.  The book tossed to the side as both hands went into the water.  “Things like this?”

One hand traced a path up her thigh and she felt herself shiver.  He smirked, “Perhaps like this?”

The fingers of his other hand found her.  He barely brushed over the top of her clit.  She must have been strung tight because even that elicited a moan from her.  His hands reached for her, flipping her around and pulling her against him so her back was pressed to his chest.

His lips found the curve of her neck.  He nibbled and sucked kissing a line to her ear.  “Am I assuming correctly?”

She managed a breathy yes before his hands found her once more.  One went between her legs, his fingers teasing her clit.  The other found one of her breasts.  He massaged her only stopping to tease her nipple between two fingers.

The combination of the hot water and her rising body heat made little beads of sweat start to form on her forehead.  Not that she cared at that point.  She rocked her hips for him loving the feel of his hardness against her back and his hands on her skin.

He slipped his fingers inside of her and she moaned his name, “There.  Solas… I…”  Words were lost as he slipped deeper into her playing her easily.  He knew all the places to caress to make her lose herself.

She would come soon.  She could feel the inevitable near but she wanted him in her for it.  The feel of him buried deep inside her, of being one with him, she needed that.  Somehow she managed to get out the words, “Solas.  In me, now.  I need you to–”

His thumb flicked against her clit and the words were lost to a loud cry of pleasure.  Less than a beat later he had her bent over the edge of the tub, remnants of bubbles caressing her as they slid along her skin.  All sensations from the bubbles were forgotten when she felt his tip teasing her entrance.

She tried to push herself back onto him but he held her firm as he spoke, “I will give you what we both desire if you say it.”

She groaned, “What? Anything…”

“Tell me the truth.  Tell me how you feel about me.  Tell me what you always wanted to but never did.”

This was too much, she didn’t want to go there.  Not now.  She started to straighten but he pushed himself just a quarter inch into her.  Just enough to remind her of what she could be having if she just said it.

“I love you.”

He pushed just a hint further.  “Louder.”

She moaned then forced the words out in a shout.  “I love you, Solas.  I’ve always—”

He thrusted into her, pushing his entire length in with one quick movement.  She let out a cry and at the same instance heard an odd high pitched beeping.  It was just enough of a jarring sound to bring her confusion even through her lust.

He pulled out almost all the way before thrusting into her again.  The beeping sound accompanying his entrance into her.  Then another thrust, another beep.  Again and again.  Beeping in time with his movements until he bent forward and whispered in her ear, “I believe it is time for you to wake up.”

The next thing she knew, her eyes were open and looking up at the ceiling of her new bedroom.  She let out a growl of frustration and slammed her hand down on her stupid alarm clock.  She wasn’t sure what pissed her off more.  That it had been a wet dream with Solas, something she hadn’t been tormented by in a long time, or that she had been so close to release.  So close.  She was wet and her lower body still throbbed from desire.

This had to be taken care of.  She was far enough along it should only take a moment.  She moved onto her stomach so she could muffle any sounds with her pillow.  Then one hand found her breast while the other worked her sensitive sex.  Despite herself she thought of Solas.  His fingers.  His voice.  His body.  Him being only a wall away.

It wasn’t long before she hit her climax.  The cry she let out made her glad for the pillow in case Solas was still in his place.  When she was done her whole body felt relaxed.  At least until she turned her head and her eyes finally registered the time.

“Shit!”

She shot up out of bed with such speed she almost tripped herself on her sheets.  Since she had opted to unpack her books, much of her clothing was still not out.  This resulted in her ripping open boxes and throwing clothing about the room till she found something that would work.  With quick fingers she braided her hair and tucked it into a bun at the back of her head.

Then she tossed some food into a bowl for Darcy.  The cat was looking at her from one of the windows.  Judging.  Always with the judging.  

She grabbed her purse and opened the door shouting back at the cat, “Get a damn job, then you can judge.”  

She shut the door and locked it before jogging down the hallway to the stairs.  In her rush she missed a step at the second floor and let out a series of curses as she fell on her ass.  It would leave a mark, but at least she hadn’t sprained an ankle or something.  She stood and hurried on to her car.

In the end, she did manage to make it five minutes early.  Every speed limit was broken to do it, but she did it.  It was lucky the campus library was such a focal point for the campus.  She hadn’t had the foresight to look at a campus map beforehand.  A fact that could have easily bit her in the bum.

The library was truly impressive.  It was modern looking in it’s large windows but still held a timeless feel to it with it’s large steps and massive doors.  The building appeared to back up to a forest.  She imagined, or hoped, there were more windows in back for that view.

As she walked up the steps her stomach did little flips.  She focused on air in the nose and out the mouth.  This was nothing.  She could totally do this.  It was a job made for her.  It would all be good.

The moment she open the large doors there was another Dalish in front of her.  This woman had short dark hair, huge beautiful green eyes, a falon’din vallaslin, and a huge smile.  She seemed to bounce constantly on the balls of her feet.  If this was more from excitement or nerves, Emmy couldn’t tell.

“You must be Emmy.  I mean, of course you are, you’re face was all over.  That was a silly question.”  She gave an awkward laugh which was immediately quieted, “Not that I’ll fangirl you or you know, I mean I’m a huge fan.  Not that it’s—”

Emmy laughed, “I don’t think I got your name.”

“Oh right, my name is Merrill.  I’m the assistant to the head of the apartment, you now, Inquisi— I mean Miss Lavellan.”  

“Pleasure to meet you Merrill and Emmy is fine.”  She gave a genuine smile.  Although she never liked being noticed for her time as the Inquisitor, Merrill’s eager joy was infectious.  She took an instant liking to her.

Merrill proceeded to show her around the library with such enthusiasm you would have thought it was her first time seeing it all.  Not that Emmy could blame her.  The place was magnificent.  It had beautiful interior architecture designed for serious study in some places. Other places were cozy little nooks with chairs that you could completely sink into.  

She had also been right about windows in the back.  There were huge ones that overlooked the expanse of pines behind them.  The area was truly beautiful.  She imagined when it started to get cold and snow they’d be even more so.

Nothing could compare to what Merrill saved for last.  The rare book and manuscript section.  It was the largest one she had ever seen.  The room seemed to be almost five stories high.  There were no windows of course, for preservation purposes, instead there were large marbled tiles with soft light behind them covering every inch of wall.  And the books.  So many books.

“How many?”

Merrill’s smile grew even more, “Last count?  180,000ish in this room.  There are more down in the underground stacks.  Around 600,000 I think.  We get people from all over coming to use it.”

“That’s…”  Words failed her.  This was even better than she could have dreamed.

“I know!”  She was bouncing again, “We do get the occasional artifact but mostly we work with these old books and documents.  When we do get an artifact it’s usually sent to be housed elsewhere once it’s been cataloged and repaired, if needed.  We got an eluvian!  It’s complicated to fix, but I admit I’ve been trying to linger a bit to keep it longer.”  She blinked, “Oh, probably shouldn’t have told my new boss that…”

“Wait.” Her attention went from the books to Merrill, “You have an eluvian?  A genuine eluvian?”

“Yes!”

“But no one has seen one of those in–”

“I know!”

Emmy was pretty sure she was bouncing too now, “How?  Where?”

“A Dalish clan came across it.”  Merrill’s bouncing stopped and she frowned, “They sold it.  I understand some clans have it bad but…”  She shook her head and smiled, “What matters is that Professor Evans was lucky enough to find out about it and purchased it.”

A slight stab to her joy and she couldn’t help mumbling, “I doubt luck had much to do with it.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”  She tried to smile again, though she couldn’t help the irritation pulsing through her at his name, “I take it when we’re done he’s going to be keeping it?”

“Yes.” She furrowed her brow, “Well, in a way, he hasn’t really been too forthright other than to say it is going somewhere safe where it will be preserved and cared for.”

Being forthright wasn’t exactly Solas’ thing.

Something must have shown on her face because Merrill asked, “Do you know the professor?”

“A bit.”  He’s been inside me a few times.  We’ve had our private bits in each others mouths.  That sort of thing.  “He taught both Mythology and Elvhen history classes to me when I was in college.  I didn’t know him all that well.”  

The last part was not a lie.  In the end she hadn’t known him well at all.  The man she’d thought she knew would have never just up and left like that.  The man she’d thought she knew wouldn’t have disappeared without a trace.  Even if he had, he certainly wouldn’t have stayed away still when she needed him most.  Conclusion, everything he had presented to her had been a rouse.  The man he wanted her to see.  A lie.

“You’ll get to know him better now.”

Emmy blinked, “What?”

Merrill smiled completely unaware of the impact of her statement, “He’s here all the time.  Likes to keep up on new things we get in and research through the materials we have.  Nice man.  Very knowledgeable.  I would have liked to have him as a professor.  When he teaches it isn’t like teaching, it’s like being told a wonderful story.  He also loves when you ask questions, not like some of the other professors that come in here.  Like Professor de Fer hates being disturbed.  Trust me I learned that one the hard way.”

“Oh, wonderful.”  She cleared her throat.  This was not the time for her to contemplate the implications that the big campus and big building were not so big after all.  If she was more paranoid, she’d be convinced he was doing this shit on purpose.

“Are you alright?  You look a little—”

Emmy shook the thoughts from her head, “Fine.  I’m good.  May I see the eluvian?”

She’d never truly been able to describe someone’s eyes as twinkling, but she swore Merrill’s did just then, “Yes!  It’s really incredible.  I mean I knew it would be…” Emmy followed her through the library to the eluvian as Merrill rambled on excitedly.  

Solas would not ruin this.  This was the opportunity of a lifetime.  She was working in the most extensive rare book and manuscript collection in Thedas.  No way she would let some idiotic lingering emotions get in the way of that.  All she had been through, she would certainly not lose to something like that.

#my neighbor fen'harel #solas #fen'harel #solas smut saturday #nwsf #modern solavellan #solavellan au #modern au #dragon age au #professor!solas #archivist!lavellan #emmy #lavellan #merrill #eluvian #history geek #my writing

[love-in-nature]

My Neighbor, Fen’harel Chapter 6: Hate and Love, Both Make You Burn

Full story on my AO3.

Emmy yawned and stretched her arms over her head.  The last of the paperwork was finally done and she’d set it aside with a triumphant cheer.  A little chime came from somewhere in the room.  In her legal document haze it took her a moment to realize it was her cell.

With a sigh, her eyes did a cursory glance over the surface of her desk but didn’t see it.  It chimed again.  She started to lift the various piles of paperwork with little luck.  Then she started opening drawers and shuffling through them.  Finally, she looked through her purse but still nothing.

Another chime, this time she swore it was annoyed with her.  As if an electronic device could be annoyed.  With a frown she started on her desk again.  Then again the chime and her frown deepened but this time she swore it came from behind her.  

“Where are you hiding you stupid thing.”

 It was like she had yelled the words with how quiet the space around her was.  She winced a bit but then realized that no one was still here so she was fine.  The crazy archivist could continue to masquerade as a normal person for now. 

She swiveled her chair so the back was to the desk and stood.  Chime.  This time, she saw the little light of the screen reflecting off the ceiling.  The stupid thing had made it’s way up on top of one of the filing cabinets by the door.  When she went over to grab it, she looked at it accusingly before checking the string of messages on her lock screen.

Dorian

Where in blazes are you?

Dorian

We came by to steal you away.  I can only hope you’re on a date.

Sera

DRINKS! Y R U NOT HERE???

Dorian

We are headed to the Singing Maiden, meet us.  Unless you are on a date in which case I expect a full report.

Emmy checked the time on the top of her phone.  It was just a little after 7.  She had been here way later than she had hoped, but at least she got all the initial paperwork done so she could get to the fun stuff tomorrow.  

She unlocked her phone and typed a response.

Emmy

I had first day paperwork to finish.  Headed home, Darcy and my couch are calling to me.  Seriously I can hear them all the way here.

Dorian

Please come.  I need a designated driver.

Emmy rolled her eyes and typed.

Emmy

First off, it isn’t my fault you’re too fancy to live within walking distance of everything and had to pick a house out in the hills.  Secondly, I’m wounded that you only want me for my car.  

She walked back over to her desk, sitting her phone down as she started to pack up her stuff.  Just as she was pulling on her coat the phone chimed again.

Dorian

I love you for so much more my dearest Emmy.  Like helping me to deal with Sera who has been shouting in my ear that I need to get you here for the past 20 minutes.

Emmy

Sorry, love.  You’re gonna have to deal.  If you need, walk to my place and you can crash on my couch when your done.

Dorian

You’re enjoying this.  Fine.  Tomorrow I’ll come by your shiny new office and see what makes it so much better than us.   But you owe me.  I took Sera’s phone so she can’t text you.  You’re welcome.

Emmy

You sure know how to make my heart soar Dorian, see you tomorrow <3

With a smile she dropped her phone in her purse.  Her eyes went to the, now empty, tea mug sitting on her desk.  There was a moment of debate before she decided it would be better to just take it and wash it out tonight so it was ready in the morning.  She picked it up and headed to her door.  

Just as her hand reached for the doorknob she heard sounds on the other side.  Her brows furrowed and her heart beat an unsteady rhythm in her throat.  Merrill had left a while ago.  She knew this because the woman had come to cheerily ask if Emmy needed any help before she went.  There shouldn’t be anyone else in here.

Her stomach turned to rock and she had to work to fight all the scenarios that were playing through her head.  She took in a deep quiet breath while she worked through her options.  She wasn’t entirely helpless after all.  If she got the element of surprise she knew basic hand to hand fighting.  She also had… well she had a mug.  That could be smashed on the intruder’s head giving her enough time to get away and call security.

Yes, good this is good.  I will vanquish my foe with my cat mug.  Cat… Darcy is going to be mad I’m so late.  Ugh focus you idiot.

At least the door was secured.  No one could get in so she’d be able to—

Click.

The fuck!?

The doorknob turned, and she moved her feet shoulder width apart while she lifted the mug.  The moment she saw the shape of someone start to enter, she swung.  In a flash her wrist was caught, quick breathing gently stirring the hair on the top of her head as her wrist was held firmly in place above her.

Even if she had been unable to see him, even if she had been unable to smell him, she would have known the moment his fingers touched her skin.  The touch was electric.  It was lighting going through her veins and it pissed her the fuck off.

Her pulse sped as she growled out, “Let. Me. Go.”

Then his voice, still like honey to her senses, “Are you going to bash my head in?”

“If I say no will you let me go?”

“Only if you mean it.  I am not particularly fond of dying tonight, much less death by,”  There was a pause as he looked at the object being wielded against him, “cat mug.”

Emmy ground her teeth together before saying in a flat tone, “If I’m going to take you out, it won’t be in my new office.  Maybe in some dark tunnel or under a bridge somewhere.  Someplace where I wouldn’t get blood all over my desk.”

Solas released her wrist.  She moved to quickly put space between them as she glared at him.  

“You sound as though you have thought this through.”

“On occasion.”  As her traitorous body allowed her mind to catch up with the situation, her eyes narrowed, “Why were you coming into my office?”

“I thought I had left a book in here.  I was not aware the new head archivist would be here, I apologize for startling you.”

“You–”  She took a deep breath the hand that didn’t hold the mug clenched and unclenched, “Why would your book be in here in the first place?”

“I was given permission to use this office on occasion until they filled the position.”  He shifted and his hands went behind his back, “It should not surprise you that I spend a great deal of my time utilizing the resources available here.”

Emmy’s hand tightened on the coffee mug as she worked to resist the overwhelming urge to chuck it at his head.  Instead, she took another deep breath, counting down, “Well, the book isn’t here.  So you can go now.  Out.”

He paused, shifting once again, “If you would not mind I–”

“I do mind.”

The first hint of emotion showed on his face as he frowned, “I would—”

“Listen, it isn’t here, but if I am wrong, which I’m not, but if I am, I’ll have it brought to you.”  Then she walked over to the door and held it open with her free hand as she made a sweeping gesture with the arm that held the mug, “Now, out.”

Solas cleared his throat before he moved past her to leave.  Too close again.   He was too close.  His scent was filling her nostrils and it would be so easy to grab his shirt, go on tip-toes, and just—

Stop! What’s wrong with you??

She felt a headache starting to form.  She reached out to shut off the light before leaving the room herself.  With much more force than was strictly necessary, she shut the door behind her listening for the click of the automatic lock.  That was another thing; she’d need to find out what asshole decided giving him an access key to this area was a good idea.

He stood outside the room waiting for her.  His face stoic, shoulders pulled back, he had always looked so regal despite whatever he put on his body.  He chose clothes to conceal him and help him blend into the crowd.  It might have worked for some but it never had for her.  Even less so after she had seen what was under those clothes.  The height and strength they hide.  The lean muscles she had run her fingers along, her mouth, lost herself in until—

Damnit.

She snapped at him, “How’d you get a key anyways?”

One fine brow raised, “I told you, I use the resou—”

“Fine.”  She waved her hand at him, “Just stay out of my office in the future.”

And away from me.  Stay far away with your idiotic mind numbing pheromones or whatever it is that makes me such an idiot.  Ass.

With a huff, that was much more childlike than she intended, she straightened her shoulders and headed towards the small staff room to wash out her mug.  When she got there he had followed her.  She’d heard him behind her but expected him to veer off when they’d gotten to the lounge.  Instead, he had walked right in behind her.

She turned on the water and slammed the mug down into the sink under the flow.  Then she turned to him eyes blazing, “Was there something else?”

Still no emotion on his face as he stood in front of her, hands tucked neatly into his pant pockets, “It is dark.  The area is fairly safe, but since I am here, I would walk you to your car.”

The reaction in her was immediate.  She felt twitchy and blood began to pound in her ears.  When she spoke her voice was a low growl, “No.”

He frowned, “No?”

Her hands were shaking as she turned to shut off the faucet.  Then she gripped the edge of the sink till her knuckles turned white.  “Who do you think you are?”

“Pardon?”

In a flash she turned on him, her nostrils flaring, “You don’t get to fucking do this!  You don’t get to just show up after two years and pretend you give a shit!”

He winced, “Emmy, I–”

“No.  Stop.”  She didn’t care what he had to say and she hoped her words hurt.  She hoped they fucking cut till he felt a fraction of the pain she had.  

She moved closer to him till she was so near she had to tilt her face up to look at him, “Where were you!?  Where were you when I was afraid and hurting, when I felt like was screaming till I was raw but no one could hear me and all I wanted… what I needed more than anything was—”  Anything from you.  A word.  An e-mail.  To know you were alive and that you cared even a little.  To know that I wasn’t just someplace to stick your dick, a passing entertainment.

She felt a familiar stinging in the corner of her eyes.  She fought hard to push it back, he wouldn’t have the satisfaction of seeing her break.  

She hated him.   Hated him with a desperate passion that burned her.  The problem was hating him was disturbingly similar to loving him.  Every moment with him spiked her blood with adrenaline, twisted her stomach into knots, and made her feel like her heart was pounding so hard her chest couldn’t contain it.  It consumed her till she felt her own body was barely under control.  It terrified her.  

One of his hands came up towards her face, “Emmy…”

Her hand came up and slapped his away, “Don’t touch me.”  She took a step back, “We work on the same campus and you use my archives.  We are,” She swallowed before spitting out the word, “neighbors.  We will have to see each other but that doesn’t mean that I have to like it.  I’ll be professional and I expect the same.  I don’t need you to do stuff like walking me to my car.  I’ve taken care of myself fine for the past two years.”  Her eyes came up to look into his, “I don’t need or want you.  I will tolerate you.  Do you understand me?”

His face was completely expressionless again as he straightened with his hands clasped behind his back, “Yes.”

“Good.”  She pushed past him.

Before she could turn to go down the hall he spoke from behind her, “Say it.  If it will make you feel better, say it.”

I hate you because I still…

Without turning to look at him she said, “Good night, Dr. Evans.”

#solas #solavellan #professor!solas #modern au #solavellan au #solavellan fanfiction #right in the feels #this legit hurt me to write #dorian #sera #old hurts #dragon age fanfiction #my writing #my neighbor fen'harel #lavellan

[love-in-nature]

My Neighbor, Lavellan: Thrown

Chapter 1 in the Solas POV snippets to accompany my fic; My Neighbor, Fen’Harel.  This is meant to accompany chapters 2 and 3 of the main story. If you'd prefer to read this on AO3 here is the link

These will not be a regular update thing like the main story but if you read the main one and ever have a request for a POV from him don’t be shy about asking :).

It only took Solas a moment to find what he came for.  The little cakes were a treat he indulged in more than he should if he were honest.  Yet, when he had started making his dinner the thought of having them after was too tempting to ignore.  He had placed the salmon in the oven before slipping on his shoes and going to the store.  He was close enough it would still have some cooking time left when he got back, he need not worry it would overcook or burn while he was away.

Just as he was exiting the aisle with his prize, someone collided with him.  In the same instance his nostrils filled with a mix of lavender, vanilla, and a purely unique scent he had not had the pleasure of in a very long time.  The closest thing he had ever been able to equate it to was a mix of newly opened books and pure female.  That combination.  It was not possible to have that here.

His eyes looked down and widened a hint at the site in front of him as the woman bent to collect her things.  It must be his mind playing tricks.  Even after all this time he---

The woman spoke, still not looking at him, “I’m so sorry.  I wasn’t watching where I was going.  I really can be such a clutz sometimes.  Totally my fault. Uhm…”

It was her voice.  Rich and melodic, the slightest accent from her origins still hanging onto certain words.  Solas' heart thundered in his chest, and he found he could not remember how to breathe properly.  It was impossible.  She was in Orlais still.  That she would be here of all places…

Then she was looking up at him frozen.  His box of cakes held part way up to him.  He watched the flitting of emotions play across her face as clear as if she were speaking them.  Recognition, disbelief, shock, pain, and finally rage.  The rage settling there, flaming behind her eyes as she stood.

“What are you doing here?”

It was automatic.  The hard schooling of his expression to show no emotion.  Centuries of this being his way of hiding his intent made the mask slide on with ease.  It had always annoyed her when they had been together; now it fanned the rage already bubbling inside her.

Emmy jabbed his box of cakes at him to emphasise her words, “I asked what you were doing here.”

It was more effort than he would care to admit to keep his tone even, “Shopping.  It is near where I am currently residing.”  As she went to jab the box at him once more, his hand came up to grab the end of it, “May I have my cakes back?”

Surprisingly, she relinquished them to him.  He had half expected them thrown at his face.  Something he was glad to be wrong on, not that he would not deserve such a thing.

Her eyes narrowed at him, “What do you mean ‘currently residing’?”

He had forgotten.  Though not a day had gone by where he had not thought of her, he had forgotten just how stunning she was in person.  Memories, tv, and pictures could do little justice to someone like her.  She was magnificent, and those things only caught a small portion of it.

It was hugely distracting being so near her again.  Solas searched for something to say, to put himself back on track.  “I am unsure how to clarify that statement more.”  

His eyes settled on the cups she was currently keeping a steadily hardening grip on, most likely thinking of doing that to his throat instead.  “You are breaking the cups.”

It clearly took her a good amount of physical effort to release the cups.  As his eyes went back to hers, she glared at him with such hatred it made his breath catch.

She growled out, “Good day.”  Then spun from him going to the register.

With her attention no longer on him, he took a deep shuddering breath.  The fingers of one hand went up to pinch the brow of his nose.  He heard her make a comment about a hitman and he pinched harder.  Then he took one more deep breath before straightening his shoulders and going to stand behind her.

She avoided looking at him as she paid for her stuff and walked out the door.  He could see the rigidness of her body as she forced herself to keep a slow pace.  

As he paid for the cakes, his mind remained on her.  She must be visiting someone.  There was no conceivable way she lived here.  The chances were far too small that she could be living here.  True, the Inquisition had been disbanded for several months, but he would have known if she was no longer with them in Orlais.  She would have told him or rather, the man she did not realize was him.

The cashier handed him the cakes.  When he walked out the door, his confusion increased as he found himself following her.  Then she turned into his apartment building, and his footsteps halted in shock for a moment.  Surely not.

Another deep shuddering breath and he forced his feet forward again.  The moment he walked in the door, she turned to him from the stairs entrance.  He swore he saw a pulse in her forehead twitch before she ground out, “Alright, that’s---”

Jim interrupted her.  Solas and Jim did their usual dance of him asking Jim to call him by his first name instead of Dr. Evans.  Jim refusing, as always.  

Then both men looked to Emmy.  She looked pale, her face drawn and shoulders slumped.  The way she looked made Solas’ heart clench and he had to force a swallow in his tightening throat.

“Are you alright, Miss Lavellan?”

Her voice came out barely a squeak, “Fine.”  Then she straightened her shoulders some and continued in a stronger voice, “He lives here?”

Jim looked from one to the other, brows furrowed with confusion, “Yes…”

Solas was growing tired of this.  To see her, the way her face fell once again at the confirmation, it was killing him a little inside.  He felt himself cracking.  It was important that he get to his own place where he could think.  Be alone.

When he stepped into the elevator, he hesitated.  The desire to be near her just a little while longer warred with the pain of what they had been and what they were now.  He shifted, his politeness and desire winning out as he moved a hand to hold the door, “Are you coming?”

Her pain was still there, but the rage was back now with it, “I’m taking the stairs.”  

He could not help but wince at the force of the door to the stairs slamming behind her.  Jim stood staring at the door, his mouth slightly open, still confused.  Solas could not blame him.  Without context, the whole exchange must be strange.

The moment he removed his hand from the doors they slid shut, and he pressed the button for the fourth floor.  He let his head fall back and shut his eyes.  Something wet streamed down one cheek.  He reached up his fingers brushing along his face.

Then he straightened and looked at the tips of his fingers, a slight frown on his lips.  It had been a long time since he had shed tears.  Not since he had left her.  The sensation was an odd one.  The fact that she still had this strong of an effect on him still was unnerving but not surprising.

The elevator beeped.  The doors slid open with a quiet hiss to reveal the familiar cream walls and dark bamboo flooring.  The building was more modern than he would have usually preferred but he had warmed to the wood flooring, as well as the apartment itself.  

He had one of the largest ones set at the end of the hall.  The living space had large windows on each side with a balcony that wrapped around and gave him enough room for a small garden.  The kitchen had been a good size for an apartment, and it had included an office in addition to the bedroom.  All selling points for him.  No other apartment in this town had suited his needs.

Now as he slipped his key into place he heard her voice down the hall, “Fuck me.”

He almost dropped the keys as he turned his head to look at her.  Those words had been spoken to him before from her mouth, but when they had her eyes had been dark with lust, the full lips swollen and rouged from his attentions to them.  The memories made his hands shake.

It had been many centuries since he had to work this hard to keep his face unreadable.  It grew harder to control as she continued to walk closer to him.  When she stopped at the door directly next to him, he could feel it slip for a beat before he forced it back.

He managed to get out, “You--”

The door she was in front of opened, “Good.”  Professor Pavus’ voice.  He would recognize it anywhere.  The professor stepped out so Solas could see that it was, indeed, him,  “You finally decided to grace us with your presence again.  Turns out Cassandra does not do hungry well.”  

The relief was so immense a gurgle of laughter threatened to bubble from his throat.  He had worried for nothing.  Having her right next to him like that would have been far too cruel of a joke on both of them, even for a world such as this one.

He spoke trying to hide the relief from his voice, “Professor Pavus, I see.  This is your residence.”

Professor Pavus’ eyes went to him; eyebrows raised high, and the relief was chased away just as quickly as it had come.  His body going numb even as Professor Pavus confirmed his fears, “Me? Live here? Are you mad?  No offense meant of course.”

Emmy’s tone was flat as she attempted to shove Professor Pavus into the apartment, “Of course.”

Professor Pavus stood steady, “You two know each other?”

He watched as Emmy’s brows knitted together, even more, a little furrow of irritation making itself known at the bridge of her nose, “Years ago.”  Her hands went up, and she shoved Pavus hard enough to get him inside before saying, “Hardly anything worthy of note.”  Then the door slammed behind her.

Forcing steady breathes he turned to his own door.  He opened it then shut it behind him, letting the pack of cakes drop to the floor.  He pressed his palms flat against the wood, leaning forward with his head hanging down.  Tears were burning the corners of his eyes once more.  Why had those last words stung so severely?

He allowed himself a few moments to let it out before he slipped off his shoes and light coat.  Then he bent over and picked up the cakes before walking to his kitchen.  He placed the sweets in a cabinet then reached over to take a bottle of wine from his hanging wine rack along with an empty glass.  It was a lovely red he had gotten on his last trip to Orlais.  

He did not care much for Orlais, but he had to concede they did some things right.  Wine and frilly cakes.  Otherwise, the whole country was a waste of space.  

He opened the oven to check his salmon.  The timer still had several minutes left, so he closed the door again and took a sip of his wine.  Wine glass in hand he walked through the living space and into his office.  The space was comforting with its shelves of books and papers scattered about.  

To an outsider, his desk would look a cluttered mess.  Random papers laid out around his laptop, an open book to one side, a planner, and various pens.  There was even an inkwell and quill that he used on occasions he was feeling nostalgic for times past.

Tonight, he felt nostalgia but not of that kind.  It was nostalgia that had a very specific focus to it.  The woman who now lived directly next door to him.  

He set his wine down on the desk before opening his laptop and going to his e-mail.

His thoughts wandered to the problem at hand.  There was little regarding solutions.  Moving was not an option.  There was too much here that he needed to stay for.  The eluvian for one.  Then there were the archives and all the material within.  It was by far the most efficient place for him to continue with the work he must do and there was still much to be done.

He would move if he could.  For her sake even more than his.  However, no amount of wishing it could be so would change the fact that it was not possible.  He would just have to continue.  Whatever had brought her here it might take her away from here just as suddenly.

That thought firm in his mind he opened a new e-mail and typed in her name.  She was in his contacts, so he no longer needed to type out the e-mail address.  Just her name.  Something that he recalled had felt violating and intimate somehow when they had first started this.

Recipient: Emmy

Subject: As Requested

Attached are the corrected translations of the document you asked me to look at.  I am impressed.  There were only a few errors.  Your ancient Tevene has improved greatly and rapidly.  There were only a few minor adjustments.  I believe you will no longer need my help on such things.

Dar’eth,

Fen’harel

 He clicked on the small digital paperclip and attached the files to the email.  Then he moved the cursor over the send button and paused.  His hand moved from the mouse to his wine glass.  He swirled the liquid, leaning back in his chair, eyes remaining on the screen as the fingers of his other hand thrummed a steady rhythm on his desk.

There was a risk if he went through with what he was thinking of doing.  Though it was minimal, it was there.  Still, it would allow him to get a better idea of the situation he found himself in.  After a beat more he took a breath of air before he straightened in his chair.  He took a sip of his wine before setting it down.  His fingers went to the keyboard, and he added one last line to the end of the e-mail.

 P.S. Is there something you need to tell me da’len?

Then, before he could think better of it, he hit the send button.  At that very moment, the alarm went off in his kitchen to let him know the salmon was done.  He stood with his wine and went in to have his dinner.  Whatever happened now hopefully he would be able to regain some semblance of control over the situation.

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