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antivano · 4 years ago

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The Ultimate DA: I OC Questionnaire.

Hi DA fandom! I’m seven years late to the party. A few years ago I whipped up this huge DA: I questions template and never released it but I figured why not. It’s got 22 parts and almost 200 questions, free to be modified to your liking for other websites as long as there’s credit. It’s very packed and full, and is all located under the cut. I would strongly recommend copy pasting everything underneath the cut and turning it into your own post (please like/reblog if you do, and tag me in it if you want to!) for your own ease, but you’re welcome to just reblog it and fill it in from there. Without further ado, the ultimate DA: I OC questionnaire. Enjoy!

THE ULTIMATE DA: I INQUISITOR QUESTIONNAIRE by @antivano.

Basics. 1. 1 Introduce the Inquisitor! Name, age, race, gender, sexuality, birthday, class. 1. 2 Any reasons for these choices? Are they named after anyone? 1. 3 Are they happy with who they are? Do they wish they had a different name, another gender or race, wish to be born with/out magic? 1. 4 Does your Inquisitor stick to canon origin stories, or did you change it to fit your story? I.E is your dwarf Inquisitor a mage, is your “rogue archer” Inquisitor secretly a mage, etc. 1. 5 Do they have any artistic, singing, dancing talents? Anything that stands out? Any hobbies?

Appearance. 2. 1 Give a detailed description of what they look like, or add a picture! 2. 2 How do they view themselves physically? Do they believe they’re attractive, or have low self-esteem? Is there any one particular thing about themselves they wish they could change? 2. 3 What about mentally? How do they view who they are as a person? Do they believe they’re a good person? Bad? Do they like or dislike who they are? 2. 4 Do they have any scars, and if so, how and where did they get them? Why were the wounds not healed with magic? Any tattoos or piercings? If they have vallaslin, what colour is the ink? At what age did they get it and what does it represent? Do they regret any of those choices? 2. 5 If they have vallaslin, how did they feel about learning the truth behind it? 2. 6 Which voice out of the four options do they have, or do you have a voiceclaim for them? What about faceclaims?

Personality and views. 3. 1 What kind of person are they? Give a detailed description of their personality. Are they friendly, broody, quick-tempered, impatient, etc? Flaws and strengths? 3. 2 How do they view other species/races? 3. 3 How did they react to suddenly being in charge? Are they a natural born leader, or are they waiting for the first chance to escape? 3. 4 Does their personality change during the events of the game? How so? 3. 5 What is their opinion on magic, templars, seekers, apostates, blood mages/blood magic, the chantry? 3. 6 If a non-mage, do they have any former templar training? How did they get into it? 3. 7 Any political views within Thedas that stand out? 3. 8 How do they view the countries of Thedas? Do any of their views stand out as noteworthy? How do they view Tevinter and the controversy surrounding it? 3. 9 How do they feel about the fall of Arlathan and the Dales? Do they hold all humans accountable? If dalish, does it hurt to think about, or is it so far in the past that they’re detached? Does their opinion on these things change upon learning what truly happened to Arlathan? 3. 10 What are their religious views? If dalish, how do they react upon learning that the Old Gods were just powerful mages? How do they feel about them being locked away? Do they feel abandoned, betrayed, angry? 3. 11 What are some of their favourite things in all of Thedas? The ocean, baby nugs, the colour silver, rainy nights? Any reasons? 3. 12 What is their greatest wish, hope, dream? What is their greatest fear? How do these things affect who they are?

Skills. 4. 1 What was their fighting skill like before they were sent to the conclave? Did they know how to fight, or were they thrown into the fray? 4. 2 How does this improve during their time in the Inquisition? If a mage, do they have any knowledge of how to use swords, daggers, or bows? Were they self-taught? 4. 3 How do they deal with combat? Do they drag it out, hack and slash, or get it over with as fast as possible? How do they feel about death and killing? Was their first kill during the Inquisition, or have they killed before that? How did they cope with it?

Backstory. 5. 1 What’s their backstory? 5. 2 What were they like as a toddler, child, teenager, and now as an adult? 5. 3 Any traumatic or noteworthy incidents that have stayed with them? How did they cope with it? 5. 4 What is the greatest tragedy that has ever happened to them? How did it shape who they are? 5. 5 Do they know the Hero of Ferelden or anyone from Origins? How and when did they meet? Do they still keep in contact? 5. 6 What about Hawke or anyone from DA2? If so, does Varric know that Hawke and the Inquisitor know one another? 5. 7 How did they feel about being sent to the conclave? Did they volunteer or was it forced upon them? 5. 8 Are they happy with where they come from? Do they wish they had a higher or lower standing in society? Have they run away, or wanted to? Family. 6. 1 What are the names of their parents? Are they living or dead? What are or were they like? Does the Inquisitor have a healthy relationship with them? 6. 2 Any siblings, nieces, nephews? Tell us about them. 6. 3 Any children that the Inquisition does or doesn’t know about? Why do they keep their children a secret, if so? Are they mixed race? Where are they now, who do they live with? How do they feel about their parent being named Herald of Andraste? If none, does the Inquisitor want children in the future? Talk about them here. 6. 4 What was their family home like growing up? Did they stay in one place or move around a lot? 6. 5 Who is the Inquisitors closest friend? How did they become friends? Was it always a happy friendship or was it enemies-to-friends? How has it evolved or crumbled during the Inquisition? 6. 6 Is there anyone they aren’t on good terms with? Anyone they can’t stand? Either individual people or organizations (Red Templars, etc). Why so?

Romance. 7. 1 Did the Inquisitor romance anyone from the Inquisition, or were they solo? 7. 2 When did they first begin to have feelings for their love interest? 7. 3 Was there a break up? Was it permanent, or did they rekindle? Are they still friends? 7. 4 How do they feel about their relationship? Is it serious, or fun? 7. 5 Do they fight often? What is it most often about? 7. 6 Are they a flirt? 7. 7 Do they want to marry their love interest, or is it not on their mind right now?

Misc. 8. 1 Do they have a favourite place in all of Thedas? Is there anywhere they’d hate to be? 8. 2 Do you have a playlist for the Inquisitor? A theme song? 8. 3 Do they carry around anything significant to them that has sentimental value? 8. 4 What languages can they speak? Were they self taught? 8. 5 Have they ever been arrested outside of the conclave explosion? If so, what was it for? How long was their sentence? Did they escape or were they let go? 8. 6 Have they ever been drunk? When was their first time being drunk? What are they like being drunk? Do they get any hangovers or do anything they regret? 8. 7 Are they addicted to anything? Have they tried to stop? How does it affect their stay in the Inquisition?

Pick Your Party. 9. 0 Who does the Inquisitor most often bring with them on quests? Do you pick this based on who they’d want with them, or who you as a player needs at the time? 9. 0. 0 Do you make decisions based on your Inquisitor in a roleplay sense, or do you make decisions based on what you as a player wants? 9. 1 What were their first opinions of the companions and advisors? 9. 2 How does their relationship with them change during the game? Have they grown closer or further apart? 9. 3 If allied with the mages, does the Inquisitor and Dorian share a bond from being trapped in a destroyed future together, or were they able to brush it off easily with no impact? 9. 4 Did they help Blackwall find the Grey Warden objects? Did they go out of their way to find them, or was it just right place right time? 9. 5 Did they help Cassandra hunt down the missing Seekers? How did they feel about finding out the truth of the seekers and tranquility? 9. 6 Did Cassandra rebuild the Seekers? 9. 7 How did they react to Cassandra’s love for Varric’s books? Did they help, or tease her? Have they ever read Varric’s books? 9. 8 Did they help Dorian hunt down Venatori agents? How do they feel about the Venatori? 9. 9 What happened during the events of Dorian and his father? Was the Inquisitor supportive? 9. 10 How does the Inquisitor feel about Mother Giselle? 9. 11 Did the Inquisitor become a Red Jenny? 9. 12 What became of Harmons? Did Sera kill him? If so, how did the Inquisitor react? 9. 13 Did they help Solas retrieve the elven artifact? Did they help Mirhis? Was there a fight for the amulet? 9. 14 Did they help Solas and his spirit friend? Was the demon killed by the Inquisitor? 9. 15 Were the Chargers sacrificed? Why or why not? 9. 16 Did they help Varric with the red lyrium, and with Bianca? How did they feel upon learning that lyrium is alive? 9. 17 Did they bring a real Snowy Wyvern heart to Vivienne, or a fake one? How did they react to Vivienne's beloved? 9. 18 How did they react to Cullen’s lyrium addiction? Did they help Cullen become clean? 9. 19 How do they feel about Krem? Have they ever met an Aqun-Athlok before? 9. 20 How do they react to Zevran and the Crows? Do they know anything about them? Do they keep in contact?

Finding a Safe Haven. 10. 1 What was their reaction upon being locked up? Did they immediately resent Cassandra (and/or Leliana) for it? 10. 2 Did they try to escape before reaching the breach? Did they consider killing anyone to escape? 10. 3 What was their reaction upon learning that they could seal rifts? 10. 4 What’s their opinion on Haven? Is it too cold for them, too loud, too quiet? 10. 5 What is their opinion on Roderick? What about other minor characters within Haven? 10. 6 Which path did they take to get to the breach? What was their reason? Do they feel guilty about the casualties of the other path? 10. 7 How do they react to being named the Herald of Andraste? Do they ask people not to call them that, or do they wear the title proudly? How do they feel about Andraste and the Maker in general? Mages, Templars, Seekers, (oh my!) 11. 1 Did they choose to ally with the templars or with the mages? Why? Did they take their companions opinions into consideration or was their mind set? 11. 2 How do they feel about the conflict? Do they think it’s time the mages got their freedom no matter how, or are they staunchly pro-circle? 11. 3 How do they react to the templars and seekers going rogue? Is it a surprise? 11. 4 How does the Inquisitor react to learning of the plot to ally with Tevinter? Do they agree with it, or blame Fiona? 11. 4 How do they feel about Alexius and Felix? What was their reaction to Felix's letter? Did they trust it, or were they suspicious? 11. 5 Did they care about Felix's illness, or was it unimportant to them? Would they have tried to help him, if they could? How did they react to the events of the potential future? 11. 6 How did they react to meeting the King or Queen? What do they think of King Alistair or Queen Anora? 11. 7 How did they react upon gaining the support of the templars/mages? Were they glad to be surrounded by them, or did they wish to be as far away from them as possible? 11. 8 Did they want to relax, after gaining the support of the templars/mages, or did they want to celebrate? 11. 9 How did they react to Corypheus and Samson/Calpernia? 11. 10 Did the Inquisitor try to save as many people as possible? Did they feel guilty about the ones they couldn't save? 11. 11 How does the Inquisitor feel about being a distraction for Corypheus while Haven flees? Did they volunteer? 11. 12 How do they react to being lost? Did they walk until their legs give out, or did they want to curl into a ball of fear? How do they react to being found by Cullen and Cassandra? Did it change their dynamic with either of them? 11. 13 How do they feel about being chosen as leader of the Inquisition? 11. 14 How do they react to Solas telling them the orb is of elven origin?

Skyhold. 12. 1 What are their thoughts on Skyhold as a whole? Do they get lost easily? Any favourite areas or areas that they’ve decorated? 12. 2 Do they change the appearance of Skyhold often with throne replacement or banner decorations? Does the Inquisition object to it? 12. 3 How do they generally judge people in trials? Are they lenient or brutal? Do they enjoy being a judge, or would they rather pass the responsibility to someone else? Do they visit prisoners? 12. 5 Any noteworthy trials? 12. 6 Does your Inquisitor generally use Force, Secrets, or Connections to complete War Table Operations? Why? What does the Inquisitor usually spend Inquisition Perks on? 12. 7 Do they have any pets? What mount do they most often ride?

Phoenix. 13. 1 How does the Inquisitor react to Hawkes presence? Do they get along? Do they agree? Do the tales live up to the reality? 13. 2 Who is Hawke? Mage? Sarcastic? Did they romance anyone? Is their partner with them in Skyhold, or did they stay behind?

Here lies my heart. 14. 1 Who is the Warden contact, and how does the Inquisitor feel about them? Have they met them before? Do they spend time with the contact at all outside of combat and quests? 14. 2 How do they react to the letter the Hero of Ferelden sends? Do they write back? Do the Warden and the Inquisitor then keep in contact? 14. 3 How do they feel about The Calling? 14. 4 What is their opinion on the Wardens? Did they know anything about them beforehand? Have they ever met a Warden before the contact? 14. 5 Would they join the Wardens, if they could? 14. 6 How does the Inquisitor react to Warden-Commander Clarel? 14. 7 Did they bring Blackwall along? If so, are they suspicious that he never heard the Calling? Does it raise red-flags? 14. 8 Did they intend to open a portal to the Fade, or was it accidental? 14. 9 How do they react to being in the Fade again? Do they have nightmares about it afterwards? 14. 10 Do they believe the spirit they encounter is truly Divine Justinia? 14. 11 How do they react to the revelation regarding the Wardens’ involvement in the Conclave attack? Do they exile the Wardens? 14. 12 What would the Nightmare say to the Inquisitor? 14. 13 How do they react to learning it was the Divine behind them in the Fade, not Andraste? Does it break their spirit, or are they relieved? 14. 14 What would be on the Inquisitors tombstone? What about Hawkes? 14. 15 What else do the Fearlings take the shape of, or are they all giant spiders? 14. 16 Who do they leave behind in the Fade? Any guilt or regret? Why do they choose this person? If Alistair or Hawke, how does the Warden or Hawke’s love interest react to their death? 14. 17 How do they respond to Varric if Hawke dies? Do they comfort him? Does it change their dynamic?

No Rest for the Wicked. 15. 1 What is their opinion on returning to Orlais? 15. 2 How do they feel about the ball? Are they excited? How do they feel about the clothes they're wearing? 15. 3 Is the Inquisition confident that the Inquisitor will succeed at the ball, or is there a fear that they'll be kicked out within five minutes? Is the Inquisitor the belle of the ball, or do they barely scrape by? 15. 4 What happened during the ball? Any romance? Did they gather coins, secrets? 15. 5 How does the Inquisitor react to Briala? Celene? Gaspard? Do they agree with Briala? 15. 6 What becomes of Orlais? Who holds the throne? 15. 7 Does the Inquisitor dance with anyone? 15. 8 What is their first impression of Morrigan? Does this change during the events of the game? Do they spend time together? How do they feel about Kieran? Who is Kieran's father? Do they meet? How does the Inquisitor react to Kieran's parentage? 15. 9 How do they feel about the Orlesian Game? 15. 10 Are they a good dancer, or do they have two left feet?

Pride and Prejudice. 16. 1 Does the Inquisitor take the Pilgrim’s Path, or fight their way through? What is their reason for this? 16. 2 Does the Inquisitor ally with Abelas or Morrigan? How do they feel about Abelas? Does it change their view of Elves at all? 16. 3 If Dalish, does Morrigan's attitude annoy them at all? Do they confront her? 16. 4 Do they drink from the Well of Sorrows? Why or why not? If so, does it change them at all?

Run, Kieran, Run! 17. 1 How do they react to the disappearance of Kieran? Are they worried? 17. 2 How do they first react to Flemeth, and then Mythal? 17. 3 If they drank from the Well, how do they react from discovering they are now the servant of Mythal? Are they fearful, determined to find a way out of it, or do they believe she holds no power over them? 17. 4 How do they react to finding out who Kieran really is?

Hope Will Never Die. 18. 1 How does the Inquisitor feel about facing Corypheus for the last time? Do they feel confident? Do they believe they will survive the encounter? How do they cope with the possibility of failure? Are there any tearful farewells? 18. 2 How do they react to the broken orb? 18. 3 How do they react to defeating Corypheus? Are they relieved, unnerved? Are they in disbelief? 18. 4 If they drank from the Well, did the Dragon they mastered survived, or was it killed in the fight with Corypheus's dragon? How do they react to now having a pet Dragon? Does it serve them, or fly away after the battle? 18. 5 How did they feel about Solas's disappearance?

I Know the Mark Like the Back of My Hand. 19. 1 How do they feel about the Anchor? Is it sacred to them? Do they hate it? Have they tried to remove it? 19. 2 Does it hurt? How much? 19. 3 Does it control them, or do they control it? 19. 4 Can they do any fun tricks with it? 19. 5 Has it gotten them into trouble? (ex; glowing in a dungeon and alerting enemies)

Jaws of Hakkon. 20. 1 How do they react upon learning that they will be investigating the fate of the last Inquisitor? 20. 2 Do they gain an alliance with the Avvar? 20. 3 How do they feel about the Avvar? 20. 4 How do they react to Telana? How do they react to her Dreamer abilities? 20. 5 How do they react to discovering the truth of Ameridan? Does this change their opinion of history? If Dalish, how much does it affect them to discover that they were an elven mage? 20. 6 Do they vow to tell the world the truth, or do they continue letting people believe that Ameridan was a human noble? 20. 7 What becomes of Storvacker?

The Descent. 21. 1 How do they feel about the Deep Roads? Did they find the scenery beautiful, unnerving? Are they afraid of heights? 21. 2 How do they feel about Valta and Renn? 21. 3 Did they believe in the Titans? 21. 4 How did they react to Renn's death? 21. 5 How did they react to the truth of Titan's? 21. 6 How did they react to being inside a Titan? 21. 7 How did they react to Valta using magic? 21. 8 ow did they react to Valta staying in the Deep Roads? Were they concerned for her safety? Did they send search parties to later look for her? Any headcanons of what became of her?

Trespasser. 22. 1 How has the Inquisitor changed in two years? What have they been up to? 22. 2 How has the relationships with the Inquisition changed? 22. 3 How has their love life been? 22. 4 Are they happy to get back into the fray, or annoyed? Were they hoping for peace and quiet? 22. 5 How do they feel about Bann Teagan? 22. 6 How do they feel about the people's wish for the Inquisition to be disbanded? Does the Inquisitor agree? 22. 7 How do they feel about the Qunari being involved? 22. 7 Do they suspect Solas of being involved, or does it come as a complete shock? 22. 8 How do they feel about the ancient elven city beyond the Eluvians? 22. 9 How do they react to finding out Solas is Fen'Harel? Did they ever have even a small hint or suspicion that something about Solas wasn't right? 22. 10 How do they feel about Fen'Harel in general? Has it changed their opinion of him? 22. 11 How do they react to their mark flaring up again? Are they angry? Do they become frightened? 22. 12 Do they believe that the fight with the Viddasala will kill them? Do they say goodbye to their companions? What about their love interest? 22. 13 How do they feel about Fen'Harel's plan? Do they agree with him or vow to stop him? 22. 14 How do they react to their arm being ripped off? How do they cope with it? Was it a relief to be rid of the mark? How do they adjust to life without it? Do they use magic to compensate? How does their love interest help them? 22. 15 Do they get married? How is their marriage? What was the celebration like? 22. 16 What becomes of the Inquisition? What was the reason for the Inquisitor’s choice? 22. 17 What happens after Trespasser? How is the Thedas looking? What are your headcanons?

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #the inquisitor #dai #dragon age 3 #oc meme #oc template

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traci0417 · 5 years ago

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So I had an concept that just exploded in my head & I have to post this somewhere. No idea if this has already been done, but please let me know if it has so I can tag stories like it.

V long post- sorry. I’ll add a ‘read more’ if I can.

[spoliers, trauma, angst, alt trespasser ending, abandonment, found family ect - Youll get it in a min]

•Imagine if the inquisitor was a child. A little slip of an elven girl no more than 12. Who was simply at the wrong place at the wrong time. Her mother, a scout for her clan who wanted to bring her too curious daughter to see shems In person.

•Cassandras heart cracks at the sight of the kneeling prisoner in the cell. They didn’t even bother restraining her, the chains slipped off her thin wrists any time she moved. She’s a child! A child! Cassandra looks down, and the girl looks up at her with too big, too green bloodshot eyes. The tear stains on her face finally break Cassandras resolve, in the best way she can, she kneels, & as gently as Cassandra can, she asks “What happened?” The girl hiccups, her face crumples into another sob, and in between gasps she tells her all she knows.

•The trek up the mountain is no easy feat on a good day- So nevermind adding holding the hand of a little elf and fighting demons in the mix. But they do well, the girl doesn’t get in the way or scream every time an attack comes to close- then halfway up, the girl picks up a discarded mages staff, “So you are a mage?” The girl looks up at the seeker, cracking the first smile the woman has seen from her ,”With arms like these, I don’t think I’d do too well with a sword.” Cassandra gives a rare chuckle, ”no, I suppose not- are you proficient enough to defend yourself?” The elf stands straighter, “yes ma’am” “Then you must protect yourself well- we still have much to go.” And they continued.

•When Solas sees her- he feels something shoot him through the heart- grief? Remorse? You are only a child, I am so sorry, I have put you on a path that was not meant for you, you survived only for me to set you on the path of death once again. He is so angry, so enraged, it was not enough for Fen’Harel to damn his world, but in order to set it right he has to put a burden too great on a child? There is no atonement for what he means to do- but every time he sees that green glow on too small hands- he truly feels like the monster that this world thinks he is.

•Back at haven, she is getting more life back, her spirits are high despite the odds, She asks too many questions, but no one can deny her. Every time they see her flit about the encampment, smiling and laughing with the soldiers, the blacksmiths, no one knows how they should treat her, the herald, so they treat her as a child. She sits with Lilianna while she is writing messages, asks if she can help, and lilianna gives a gentle smile, because no way the girl can copy down & understand the codes needed, “I think just you being here helps” and the girls smile is filled with such joy that the spymasters heart aches- after she leaves, and goes to ask Jospehine, Cullen, Varrik, Blackwall, Bull & Solas a million questions- they all th ink the same thing after she turns in for the night. A child must bear this burden- we are so sorry for the pain that you must go though- we are so sorry that we cannot help you more, you were not meant for this path, but we will protect you with our lives.

•Despite the odds, she saves everyone. Haven is destroyed, she faced an arch demon, but she lived. The small settlement blooms with newfound hope because the herald is back. Solas holds her hand while she sleeps on the cot, healing magic Long spent, but he cannot bear to leave her, he underestimated her, she sacrificed herself, this little elf barely even 12, had saved them and faced against the abomination- Solas is in awe- he vows to protect her better. The advisers looked to her cot, seeing her sleeping body, tears running down their faces, although no one says anything about it, they’ve never been so relieved. They all vow to protect her better.

•Although the ceremony is symbolic, and the sword is taller than her, she accepted. Did her best to keep the sword steady.- but, naming her inquisitor was something they never wanted to put on her.

in the war room, hours before the ceremony had taken place, Josephine, with teary eyes and a lump in her throat, looks at red faced Cullen & Cassandra, who have been screaming at her for the better part of an hour. (“How could we even consider this!?” “She is a child, she has already done enough for us!” “We cannot possibly put more responsibility on those shoulders!” “Isn’t this needlessly cruel?”) Josephine stands taller, even though she has never felt so small,”I cannot think of a worse thing to do to her- but to name her inquisitor gives us a political edge, if we do not have a clear appointed leader, we will not be taken seriously- and to not name the only one who can close the rifts, the herald of Andraste, the inquisitor- would be political suicide.” “Damn the game!” Cullen bellows, “no amount of coin or favor can be worth what we are putting her though!” Lelianna has stayed silent, but as Cullen finishes his outburst, she clears her throat, and whispers, “we must.” And with that, the fight leaves the advisors, and despair replaces it.

•She loves freely, as only a child can, despite the sorrow. She triumphs, she charms, she is one of the strongest mages Solas has ever seen. She calls him Hahren & he calls her Da’Len. She never strays far from him, and it is clear to all that she loves the apostate & there is little Solas can do but love her just as much. it could just be homesickness on her part- but the attachment that she has formed with the mage, one cannot help but think it is that of what a daughter forms with a father.

•Solas is weak against her, as is everyone, but Solas in particular. Which is ironic considering he tried everything to put up a boundary between them- he knows how this will turn out- but he is helpless against the too curious, too bright eyes. He has infinite patience for her, her constant questions, her empathy, her aptitude for magic all pull at him. No one teases him for it. Although, one day, as he was walking through the courtyard, Iron Bull ran to him, “Solas! You’re daughter is on the roof- mind getting her down before Josephine bas a heart attack?” Solas’ heart flipped, he was not the childs father- the furthest thing, in fact, but he found he did not have it in him to correct the qunari.

•Despite her gentle nature, they have sharpened her into something to be feared. It haunts them, but they did not have a choice. She always helps, always saves, seems to always make the most righteous judgements- but as Adolescent, 13 now- she is growing before their eyes. Sometimes even going on missions alone(she lets Cole come, of course). No one says anything, but they all see how Solas & her circle leave on horses a few hours after she departed because “they need to check on something.”

•At 13, she charms the courts, Halamshiral was a success and Josephine couldn’t be more proud. Solas could nearly see her in the parties in arlathan, His daughter did so beautifully that he knows she would be the most feared, but he Tamps the thought down, it hurts to think about.

•Dorian and Sera love her more than they thought they could love anybody. She teaches them to look beyond themselves. They are her closets friends, and when it all becomes to much for Da’Len, they do their best to make mischief, so she never forgets to have fun as well.

•ever since she was 12, she has called Solas ‘Father’. It is a sweet pang in his heart every time, but he does not stop her. Just like no one stops her when she calls Iron Bull ‘uncle’ or lilianna, “Aunt”. But Skyhold does notice when the spy master is in a particular good mood for weeks, or how uncharacteristically quite Bull is after that.

•She defeats Corypheous, and Solas tells her how proud he is as he holds the broken orb, that he needs to go to do something important. And that he will be back. She begs to come with him, tells him to wait, that she is his daughter and fathers are never supposed to leave, & it is the first time she sees her father cry, she begs him to wait, but when he turns around. He is already gone,

•2 years have passed and she is 15. She is turning into a great beauty and an even greater mage. Her people worship her like a god, despite her protests. Ever since Solas left, Cullen and varrik have taken up the mantle as best they can, though they know it’s not enough, & Josephine teaches her all she knows, then lelianna teaches her how to hide it. They have done there best despite the worst and she knows that, the seeker is her closet to a mother though, with all of her harshness, she would do anything for the growing elf.

•The exalted council flurries past, she saves everyone yet again, but she is dying, and Da’len knows it. Her anchor is melting down and she tells everyone that she loves them- that she had the greatest family, that she was so grateful to help. She goes through the eluvian alone, leaving her patched up family screaming and crying behind her, to do this one last thing

•Fen’Harel was not prepared. He did not account for how much it would devastate him to see his daughter again. Hunched over in pain, the anchor killing her and oh maker it’s all his fault- but she still looks up at him, her face older, more wise, beautiful, she smiles a bloody smile, “Father, I‘ve missed you so much .”

•Fen’harel swallows down a sob, kneels before her, calms the anchor slightly, “My daughter, I suspect you have questions.”

•she lunges for him, wrapping her arms around his neck in the first hug he’s had since before he left her, “Father, I’ll never ask another question again if it means I can come with you.” He never heard her beg for anything, but she’s begging now. “Let me stay with you, Please never leave, not you, not again.”

•Fen’Harel was always weak when it came to his Da’Len. He carries his daughter through the eluvian, and together they’ll try to build a better future, for everyone.

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dreadfutures · 4 years ago

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It’s probably immensely vain and narcissistic to love one’s own work so much, but honestly? The amount of time I spend rereading and daydreaming and thinking about Ixchel’s story...

And it’s crazy, too--nothing is plotted it out in advance, yet these themes and coincidences just keep cropping up so beautifully...

tw suicide, also spoilers for the Fade arc of Dead Pasts, Dread Futures

Like in the Fade arc, Ixchel doesn’t know which memories were stolen from her. I didn’t know, either. I just knew it was time for everyone to find out her truth--but there were things I had mentioned she remembered very well, and I couldn’t use those. Like the Trespasser ending. The idea of it being this moment where she told Dorian she was going to end it all came to me just as I was writing that chapter.

Here’s the sequence of events that just kind of came pouring out...

Dorian offers to listen to Ixchel’s fears, because he will stand by her no matter what:

He squeezed her tightly. “I’ve seen you kill people, Ixchel,” he reminded her. “I’ve seen you covered in nug shit, arm-deep in Great Bear guts, covered in Blighted dragon bits, all snotty and puffy from being suicidally weepy…how bad could it be?”

Ixchel wished it were so simple.

And she knew that he was right. Maybe it would be easier for her, if she could tell one of them what may or may not lie ahead of them, just to be sure that she had one person with her in the end… Maybe it would take the edge off, maybe it would start the healing process ahead of time—but Dorian could not possibly know that of the three people gathered there…she could never tell him.

Then, what comes next has to involve Dorian, doesn’t it?

Ixchel reclaims her memory of the moment she decided to kill herself, and how she told Dorian, and how he could do nothing to stop her:

So that was what it had taken from her. Not the terrible numbness of the deathroot. It had left that there, to torment her when she sought to evade the Nightmare with bitter herbs. Not the despair itself that had driven to her such means. That had been too entrenched in her heart and soul for it to extract.

No.

It had found this, her biggest regret.

[...]

Perhaps he had deserved this revenge upon her after all.

And then...someone has to stay behind in the Fade. Hawke’s not there. It’s not going to be Solas. I couldn’t do that to Dorian or Cass. And it felt cheap to bring in Calpernia and then leave her there like I’d tossed her aside.

And what distraction could any of them (except maybe Solas) provide against the Nightmare? (Like come on, you’re telling me that STROUD by himself can occupy the Nightmare long enough to let them all escape? Talk about contrived...)

A giant Spirit.

The one Spirit who’s been popping up and randomly saving Ixchel’s ass several times throughout the story...whose role had been promised, but nothing had come of it yet... I hadn’t decided what he was...but...somehow the signs are clear in retrospect?

And then—the rift rippled, and she saw a flash of white beyond the Veil—and through the slowly-opening rift came Amarok.

But the wolf was a wolf no longer. When he flew past Ixchel, it was with an otherworldly grace more akin to a liquid or a gas, and he became something far more massive than he had ever been in the waking world. Here, in the raw Fade, he was as mighty as a High Dragon. The giant white creature streamed pure Fade magic from his snarling maw, and he landed heavily on the Nightmare’s plateau. The Fear demon aspect of it was crushed beneath one of his mighty paws.

[...]

And as the last of Amarok’s six eyes opened, Ixchel recognized in them her Regret.

The mighty Spirit of her Regrets raised its head to the shattered heavens and released a howl that made her soul vibrate along its fault lines. If the Evanuris had not yet awoken in their Black City, surely they had heard this white wolf’s cry:

Suledin!

The whole Adamant/Fade arc in retrospect is more than even Ixchel facing her greatest fears.

Ixchel’s greatest fears are: being seen as a failure of a leader, and being found out as a fraud and left by her dearest friends. The first stems from her regrets about how Adamant went the first time. And you know what? It’s spurred her to be a better leader, and be more involved in her people, and being a better tactician.

But the latter?

It’s literally killing her.

“It’s not about dying, it’s about being dead. About being able to uncurl myself from that tense hunch, huddle, waiting for the punches to land. So I do my best to be objective, hold my fears apart from myself, examine them, assess whether they are rational or distorted by these dark shadows in my mind. If there is nothing to fear, to try to release the fear and just live. But it’s made so many other feelings seem so alien and distant I don’t know what to do with them.”

Her whole body trembled.

“Like I’m already Tranquil, and then the emotions come back and I can’t handle them. And then I’m just waiting for the one that overwhelms me—”

Undoubtedly, Ixchel has something in her mind that’s predisposed to fixation and depression. But she regrets being suicidal, she regrets that she was the kind of person who would be so hopeless and choose that option. And it’s been because of that regret that she’s been so afraid of being found out--so afraid that she will inevitably lose everyone again and find herself back in that dark place. Clinging to that regret has kind of maybe just made it more inevitable, made her more of that person...

And you know what? She takes back this last piece of her regret and makes it a part of herself, but not as a weakness, not as something that whispers and sows doubt in herself again. Does she mourn that that happened? Is she still inherently depressed? Certainly. But this bundle of Regrets is not what will be weighing her down from here on out... It’s Regret no longer.

Because as she leaves the Fade and Adamant behind once again, she leaves Amarok, the Spirit of her Regrets.

#literally garbage self indulgent ramblings #i just have feelings about ixchel #and also dorian #dorian will come later #ixchel lavellan #amarok #dorian

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trvelyans-archive · 5 years ago

Text

remembrance

commission of solas and avira for the wonderful @lavellanlove ! i’ve stanned avira for several years so the fact i got to write for her is RIDICULOUS to me, maia from 2 years ago wouldn’t believe it lol. thank you for commissioning me, lovely ! i hope you enjoy <3

solavellan, 5000 words, fluff/romance/angst

Varric has made a habit of befriending the new recruits.

They always have questions, and he’s always happy to answer.

Tonight, in the mess hall, it’s a short, red-headed elf with big ears and enough freckles to replace all the sand on Antivan beaches and then some. She’s from Orlais, she told him, from the Val Royeaux alienage, and even though he probably has even more questions about her after learning that, he doesn’t get the chance to ask them.

Because, of course, all anyone wants to talk about is the Inquisitor.

Especially nowadays. It’s hard to ignore the tension in the air when it hangs there, so hot and thick like it’s breathing down the back of your neck. Avira and Solas – if Varric can really even call him Solas anymore – are at a stalemate, and everyone’s just waiting for one of them to knock the other off the chessboard. And then, of course, for the entire board to explode into splinters and leave nothing but dust behind.

Tonight, though, everyone’s drunk or tired enough to pretend things are peaceful, and Varric isn’t going to pass up an opportunity to feel the same. Especially when there are plenty of recruits looking for company, and Varric’s looking to give it.

The elf’s chin is practically to the table with how far she’s bending in her chair to avoid Avira’s watchful eye as she strolls through the room. “She’s scary,” the girl comments.

“Is she?” Varric turns around in his chair to look at her. “Didn’t notice.”

“What?” she says. “How can you not notice? She’s… she’s…”

“I don’t know, kid,” he replies, turning back around to smirk at her. “Once you know someone long enough, see them at some low, low points -”

“Like what?” She pushes herself off of her chair, practically throwing herself across the table to get up-close in Varric’s face as she whispers, “Like when the Dread Wolf Fen’Harel abandoned her?”

He chuckles. “Hey, it wasn’t quite like that –“

“Well, what was it like, then?”

Ah. It always comes to this. Normally, Varric’s not one for gossip, but – well, okay, that’s a lie. But normally, he’s not one for gossip that could result in him getting his ass kicked by one of the most powerful women in Thedas, except, this time, it feels like it’d end up being pretty beneficial to the cause. All things considered, these young recruits they’ve wrangled up are probably going to end up doing a lot better for Avira if Varric strikes the fear of the Maker into them first. Even if it’s just a little. Also, it can be pretty entertaining (and sometimes Varric needs desperately to be entertained). When it comes to talking about Avira, people flock to Varric like they’re a bunch of little kids and he’s a grandmother reading them a well-worn copy of The Seer’s Yarn with a plate of elfroot cookies cooling off in an open windowsill.

Varric leans back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his head and kicking his boots up onto the table.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he replies, grinning. “To be honest, kid, they were weren’t always like this…”

Solas didn’t ever really leave his little corner of Haven.

If he wasn’t reading in his cabin (the one he unfortunately shared with several other members of the Inquisition, to his unspoken but very obvious dismay), he was outside, watching. Watching the hustle and bustle of the small town that had been thrown chaotically into the middle of the greatest catastrophe to grace the face of Thedas in recent history (including the Blight); watching the soldiers, young and old, mill about their day, occasionally sporting a new limp or cradling their newly sprained arm against their chests in a sling; watching, more often than not, the new Herald of Andraste – not that she ever liked to be called that - wander around between the buildings, talking to people, talking to herself, too, sometimes.

Maker, did that elf watch her.

Varric couldn’t help but watch him do it, either. No matter how long he did, he couldn’t tell what Solas wanted from her (though that was mainly because he couldn’t tell much of what Solas wanted at all, and that was after he’d spent more than enough sleepless nights with him). Did he want money? Connections? A promise that the Templars wouldn’t go after him if he changed his mind and left?

Something… more?

Not that the elf seemed like he was looking for that kind of thing, especially not right now. Still, Varric couldn’t quite put his finger on what Solas wanted.

And he was dying to know.

But one night, it just so happened that he was hanging out in the grumpy apothecary’s Adan’s cabin when, through the open window, he heard the Herald and Solas talking.

So he waved a hand at Adan to shush him and listened in curiously as he stuffed his salves into his pocket.

“The advisors are pleased with the outcome of our expedition to the Fallow Mire, I take it?”

Avira tugged on her glove, fitting it more smoothly over her hand. “Yes, they are,” she answered.

Solas nodded. “I am glad to hear it.”

“I agree – it was not an easy journey…”

“No, it was not.”

Varric could’ve told them that much. He still had water in his boot.

They were facing away from each other, staring out at the town as the sun set, slanting orange-pink light across the freshly fallen snow. That seemed like it should have been the end of the conversation, but both of them lingered, anyway.

“A crow flew in this morning for Leliana,” Avira continued after a long moment of silence. “Attached to it was a message from a scout. They explored the Fallow Mire further after we departed for Haven, and found an old road that leads to the mountains.”

“Hm. That will prove to be useful, I suspect.”

“It will,” she replied, “though the advisors have left it up to me to decide what the route should be used for.”

“I see.” Solas tilted his head to look at her. “What are your options?”

“Josephine claims that merchants will pay a great deal for the knowledge of the road,” Avira explained, “and, knowing merchants and traders well, I agree. Commander Cullen suggested we use it as an easier travel route for Inquisition soldiers. The Spymaster, however, suggested we hide all records of it away and use it as a route for her agents.”

He nodded thoughtfully and said nothing more, looking back out at the town.

“What do you think?”

Solas turned to her again. “You wish to hear my opinion?” he asked.

She turned to him, too. “Yes,” she replied. “I do. Unless you do not wish to give it –“

“Hm.” Solas clasped his hands behind his back and looked skywards. “I think that the Spymaster’s scouts could make good use of it.”

“Yes, I agree.”

He raised an eyebrow, just slightly enough that Varric almost missed it. “Is that your decision?”

“I was considering it.” She tilted her face towards the town once more. “I have until tomorrow morning to decide.”

“I believe that you will come to a suitable conclusion.”

“I do, too.” Avira nodded in his direction. “Thank you for your input. Have a good night, Solas.”

“You as well.”

Varric heard the next day that they designated the route for Leliana’s scouts.

Everyone in the travelling party had paired up with someone else to wind down for the night. A fire was burning, the ale was about as cold as it could be when it had been carried around in a bottle at the bottom of Varric’s pack for the past week, and the food, while not entirely appetizing, was filling, which meant they would all have enough energy to continue on their journey the next morning.

Varric didn’t have any energy left, so he was kind of glad, for the moment, that everyone had decided to ignore him, and he was left sitting by himself in the middle of one long, cold log beside the campfire, listening. (Maybe taking notes of lines he could us in his next book.)

The Iron Bull’s chair was tipped back against a large tree, and Enchanter Vivienne stood in front of him with her hands on her hips as they exchanged some sort of heated discussion. On the other side of camp, closer to the cluster of tents at the mouth of the shallow cave, were Solas and Avira, plucking handfuls of bread from the same loaf and eating it while the other spoke.

“… And so he gave me half of his stock,” Avira said, smiling at the memory. “Half of all of it. The Clan was fed for weeks… Some of the older members didn’t like it, mind you – they thought that it tasted too differently from the food they were used to – but the children…”

“I am sure they enjoyed it.”

“They did,” she replied. “Absolutely, they did. I had to learn how to make a few of the recipes from scratch just so they’d stop pestering me about it – well, I suppose I didn’t make it for them, but… well… you know what I mean.”

“Your clan,” Solas said after he swallowed a mouthful of bread he had been chewing. “Have you heard from them?”

She nodded. “I’ve received a few letters,” she responded. “Not as much as I’d like.”

He was silent for a moment before clearing his throat. “I’m sorry.”

Taken aback, Avira blinked at him. “What for?” she asked, her voice a murmur.

“It must be difficult,” he replied slowly. “To be so far away.”

“It would only be one ship from Denerim to Wycome,” she tried to say, forcing a smile before letting it falter and flicking her eyes away from him. “Yes, it is difficult. Do you find it difficult to be away from your home?”

Solas was staring at the ground while he plucked absentmindedly at his handful of bread. Neither of them were looking at each other anymore, but Varric could tell they were still tuned into each other’s movements. “I have seen far too many things to miss my past,” he responded.

“Yes, yes, you’ve told me all about your ancient ruins and lost civilizations,” she teased.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I am sorry,” he told her. “Since you seem to think my stories are boring, I will try to act more like Varric in the future if that would please you.”

(Varric resisted saying anything about that, because he was actually slightly flattered.)

“I was joking, Solas,” Avira replied, rolling her eyes when he wasn’t looking and reaching forward to wrangle another handful of bread from the loaf. “In truth, I think you are anything but. You - I mean, er, your stories – are… endlessly fascinating.”

He glanced over at her again. “Is that so?”

“It is.”

Before Avira could pull her hand away, Solas moved forward to grab a handful of bread for himself. Their fingers brushed. They both tensed.

And then Solas smiled, but it didn’t feel very honest. “Perhaps we should turn in for the night,” he said under his breath, grabbing the cloth that the bread had been wrapped in and stowing the rest of the loaf in his bag. “It is getting late, and you will need to be well-rested for our journey tomorrow.”

Avira frowned. “Solas, if I –“

“Please,” he interrupted, holding a hand up and tilting his head towards her. “You did nothing wrong. I have just realized how tired I am after the day’s travels, and would like to get some sleep before morning.”

“Liar,” she teased, standing up and placing her hands on her hips. “You’re just going to take a dance through the Fade and see if you can find anything interesting.”

“Perhaps I am,” he replied. “If I do, I will be sure to tell you about it.”

Now, in the mess hall, the short elf with red hair wrinkles her nose at Varric. “That’s it?”

He laughs and shakes his head. “Oh, no,” he says, “there’s much more to it than that.”

On a similar night a few months later, after Haven had been destroyed and the Inquisition had moved into Skyhold, Varric was on guard duty in their makeshift camp when he heard a rustling behind him.

He spun around in his chair, aiming his crossbow into the shadows between the Inquisition tents. As big of a disaster he was sure Hightown – and all of Kirkwall – would be at that time, he’d take that over sitting in the middle of the woods at night with his thumb up his ass any day. He breathed out slowly, standing up from his seat and looking for the source of his noise.

It came from his left. He spun around and, before his vision adjusted, leveled his crossbow at Solas’s chest, who had been emerging from Avira’s now-dark tent with a book in his hand.

“Oh,” Varric said as he pointed his crossbow to the ground. “Shit, sorry.”

“Did I scare you, Varric?” Solas asked with a coy smile.

“No,” he replied. “What are you doing awake right now? It’s my turn to take watch.”

Unfortunately.

“I was…” Solas let out a short huff. “I was speaking with the Inquisitor.”

“What, did an assassin get into her tent or something?”

“No,” Solas replied. “Nothing of the sort. She had posed a question to me earlier I wished to answer before she fell asleep. Anyway,” he said abruptly, clearing his throat, “good night, Varric.”

He headed off towards his own tent, clearly wanting to get away from the conversation, but Varric was grinning widely. “Not a chance,” he said, hurrying after the elf. “Seriously, what were you doing in there?”

“I told you,” Solas said, “I –“

“Yeah, yeah, she had a question, you answered it.” Varric pushed his crossbow into the ground and leaned against it. “What’s the deal with the two of you?”

“I do not know what you –“

“Oh, come on,” Varric interrupted. “You can cut the bullshit with me, elf, I’ve seen the way you look at her.”

“I do not know what you mean,” Solas said.

“Sure,” Varric said. “You can keep telling yourself that.”

Solas’s eyes narrowed. “I would appreciate it if you refrained from further discussion of my relationship with Avi- the Inquisitor,” he told Varric. “It is none of your concern.”

“Alright,” Varric replied, throwing a hand up in defense. “If you’re going to get your underclothes in a twist about it…”

“And I will take watch for an hour or so,” he continued, pointedly ignoring Varric’s taunt. “I am not tired, and I would like to finish this chapter of the book I am reading by the fire.”

“I can keep you comp-“

“I will take watch,” Solas repeated. “Good night, Varric.”

Varric stared at him coolly for a moment before chuckling, pulling his crossbow from where he had thrust it into the dirt to lean on and slinging it over his shoulder again. “Alright, I get the message,” he replied. “Just… be careful, okay? These woods can be… well, pretty scary.”

Solas nodded and sat down by the fire, opening his book to what seemed to be a random page and looking down at it while Varric, incredibly tempted to continue bothering about it, disappeared into his tent.

Not five minutes later when he poked his head out to make sure the elf was still there did he see him standing in front of Avira’s tent once more, moving his hands in circular motions and muttering something under his breath while wisps of green light floated in front of him.

It took some thinking, but eventually it hit Varric: Solas was casting wards over her tent. To keep her safe, presumably – after all, if she died, everything they’d accomplished so far would have been for nothing. But maybe there was another reason he was doing it. In any case, Varric was certain that the elf wasn’t doing it for anyone else in their party.

He laughed as he closed the flaps of the tent once more, shaking his head as he flopped down onto his bedroll and snuffed the light in his lantern out.

Solas had cut himself on the pages of his book.

To be fair, it was dark out – which is why Varric didn’t even know he was reading in the first place, but that’s besides the point – and he was also sitting relatively far away from the fire compared to the rest of the group. (Well, compared to Varric and Dorian, who had slumped over against the log with his fingers still curled around the handle of a cup.) He was frowning but didn’t protest as Avira smoothed some sort of ointment over the cut with her thumb, holding his wrist in place with her other hand, occasionally stroking the pads of her fingertips over his veins.

He also didn’t protest as she kept on giggling.

“I can’t believe it,” she muttered. “You come out of fights unscathed every day and reading a book is what makes you bleed?”

“Yes, yes,” Solas replied, watching her, “it is very amusing, Inquisitor. Would it not be more efficient to use healing magic, instead?”

“I promise this will work,” Avira answered, looking up at him from underneath her eyelashes. “I made the salve myself, and I used it on a cut of my own last week.”

He didn’t seem to be convinced, watching her work with the slightest wrinkled nose. Avira picked it up on and swatted gently at his forearm, smiling in annoyance. “I do know what I am doing, Solas,” she said somewhat defensively. “My mother taught me how to make the salve back when I was child. I still have the recipe written down somewhere.”

“Did you learn much from her, working alongside her in the clinic?”

“Yes.” She sat back on her heels, reaching into her pack and pulling out a roll of bandages. “She showed me a few little tricks like this.”

Solas was still watching her, fiddling with the fingers of his folded hand which sat impatiently in his lap. “And your father?”

“He kept me sane,” she said with a gentle laugh. “Taught me how to fight, told me stories.” Her eyes flickered to his face. “Not as good as yours, of course,” she added with a hint of cheek.

Solas probably would’ve rolled his eyes if he didn’t seem so transfixed by her working. And if he wasn’t so exhausted. Maker, they were all exhausted. If Varric wasn’t eavesdropping on their conversation, he would have retired to his tent an hour ago. “Did you enjoy living in Amaranthine?” Solas asked.

“Yes,” she answered quickly, then frowned. “There were… parts of it I liked, some I didn’t. I wish my mother let me explore the city more.”

“She wanted to protect you.”

“I felt so… stifled.” Avira unrolled the bandages and tore a short strip off from the rest. “I know she wanted to protect me, but… Perhaps I could have found something to protect her with. Instead the Darkspawn assaulted the city, and I left without them…”

“I’m sure your parents would not regret their decision,” he said in reassurance, pushing his hand a little closer to her so she could wrap the cloth around his finger. “Saving you… That was most important to them.”

“I know that,” she replied. “I know that, I just… They were my parents.” Her eyebrows gathered together in the middle of her forehead while she concentrated on tying the bandage in a knot. “We were supposed to join the Dalish together… I was not supposed to nearly die on my way to find them and wake up in their camp days later by myself.”

“It was worth it,” he said. “That you lived. Everything…” He cleared his throat. “Everything was worth it because you lived.”

She secured the bandage tightly around his finger, but didn’t move her hands away. “Thank you, Solas.”

“I should be the one thanking you,” he said with a smile, pulling his hand out of her grasp and flexing his fingers. “You have better things to do than tend to my wounds, and yet you do so anyway.”

“Just out of the goodness of my heart,” she replied.

“Yes, I did not expect you to have done it for any other reason.”

He was still smiling at her. She didn’t seem to notice – she was too busy smiling herself.

Then Avira stood up and stretched her arms above her head, bending down to wipe the dirt from her knees afterwards. “Is it a good book you’re reading, at least?” she asked him, sitting down beside him on the bench and gesturing towards it. “Some Orlesian mystery novel, perhaps?”

“No, no, hardly that exciting,” he responded. They shared a laugh.

“Is it one you’d be willing to share with me?”

He glanced over at her out of the corner of his eye. “Perhaps,” he answered. “We have not finished our other one yet.”

“That’s because it isn’t very good, Solas,” she said. “Maybe I should pick the next book for us to read together.”

“Yes,” he replied, “maybe you should.”

“If you’re not reading, then would you like to come on a walk with me?” She stood up again and held out her hand, wiggling her fingers. “I saw a clearing earlier today that probably has a wonderful view of the moon…”

Solas looked at her outstretched hand for a moment before putting his book down on the log and standing up, taking her hand in his. “Let’s hope the bears do not attack our camp while we’re gone,” he murmured.

“Varric can take care of them,” she reassured him, intertwining their fingers together and swinging their hands back and forth in the space between them. “He’s a very good shot.”

“He would be were he not asleep, vhenan.”

“He isn’t.”

“Oh.” Solas chuckled under his breath. “I did not notice,” he said.

“That’s alright,” she replied. “I was trying to distract you, anyway.”

Before they disappeared through the trees, he leaned over and whispered something to her, and she threw her head back and really, really laughed. (It was probably loud enough to actually wake up any bears nearby.)

Varric had never heard her laugh like that before.

He was still sitting around the fire when they came back. They weren’t holding hands anymore, but Solas was looking down at the bandage wrapped around his finger with another smile.

It was their last night in Skyhold before they left for Halamshiral and Adamant, and Varric couldn’t sleep.

He was sitting at a desk in the library, trying to write, but no words came to him – not even bad ones, which he would have preferred over nothing. He had never been so uninspired for so long, and it was about as frustrating as you could imagine for a novelist not be able to work on – or even start – a novel.

He ran a hand through his hair and threw his quill down on the table, watching it skitter across the wood before stopping an inch away from the edge. With a sigh, he leaned against the railing, and was about to close his eyes when he saw movement in the rotunda below him.

Frowning, he pushed himself higher in his chair and looked down.

Solas held Avira in his arms on the loveseat, playing with the ends of her sleeves. The light in the sconces on the walls had been blown out an hour or two before – Avira wasn’t there when it happened – which left the room steeped in heavy shadow, save for the light streaming down from the rooms above them and the lone candle flickering on Solas’s desk. It was enough light to see them. It was enough light that anyone who walked into the room could have recognized who the two of them were and how close they were sitting together. Neither of them seemed to care.

Solas was whispering something in her ear. Varric couldn’t hear what he was saying, but it didn’t seem to be helping much. Avira stayed anyway.

Watching them together reminded him a little too strongly of someone else…

He had known this would happen since those first days in Haven, of course. The two of them had a connection that neither of them had with anyone else. Even though it made things a bit more complicated, and none of the advisors seemed particularly thrilled, Varric was thankful for it, actually. He didn’t feel very at home in the Inquisition – his home was still across the sea in Kirkwall, of course – and Solas had been prickly at first, but Avira… She softened him up. Smoothed down his edges. Made him the type of man who proved to be a cuddler.

Not that he wasn’t prickly anymore, but he’d actually started greeting Varric once in a while when he passed through the rotunda during the day. (Although Avira was around whenever that happened, so maybe that was why…) He smiled more. Laughed every once in a while.

He seemed happy. They both did. And Varric was happy for them, too. Things weren’t always as easy as it seemed between them.

Varric watched them for a few seconds, thinking, before reaching over and grabbing his quill once more, dipping it in his pot of ink and pressing the tip to the page.

All this love and romance left him feeling a bit more inspired than when he had trudged up here a few hours ago looking for something to write about. He made a note to dedicate his next book to Solas and Avira – and what would probably end up being their ten kids.

Unfortunately, it didn’t last much longer than that.

The night they returned from Adamant, Avira ignored Solas, sitting on the opposite side of the main clearing in the Inquisition camp than he did. He tried to reach out to her a few times after the healers had seen to their respective wounds – ones they had received in the Fade and in the fortress - but after the third time she turned him away, he clenched his jaw and gave her a curt nod.

“As you wish, Inquisitor.” That was all he said before backing away and retreating to his tent, and he didn’t come out again until the morning.

Varric wasn’t surprised, though. After the argument they had about the Wardens – after seeing how angry Avira had been at the suggestion to exile them - it didn’t seem like there was any sort of relationship left to be salvaged.

And what was left dwindled in the following months – from a burning fire to cold ashes. They spoke on rare occasions, but neither of them seemed to enjoy it. They shared meals at the same table on opposite ends, neither of them looking in the other’s direction. And they journeyed together – and sometimes they tended to each other’s wounds – but their interactions were not friendly. Their relationship didn’t seem as easy as it used to be. In fact, it seemed harder than anything.

Harder, still, when he left.

Varric never talked to Avira about it. After defeating Corypheus, he never found the chance. She was busy, and seemed, at least to Varric, like she wanted to move on, and who was he to stop her from doing that? She had more things to deal with than she had before they stopped Corypheus – more Orlesian nobles coming to visit, more Chantry scholars, more refugees and pilgrims and people vying for her attention – and dwelling on what could have been, dwelling on what she could have done differently, would do nothing to help her.

Varric knew that much, so he let it drop. She probably wouldn’t talk to him about it, anyway. And he’d thought that was the end of it.

And then they went back to Halamshiral for the Exalted Council, and, well…

“That’s it?” the red-headed elf asks. She’s a couple more drinks into her night than she was before, and she stares at him with bulging eyes. “He just left?”

“Yep,” Varric replies. “He didn’t even say goodbye, didn’t leave her a note. I thought they were going to be together for a long, long time, but it wasn’t even a year before he up and left. He left all of us, too. I was starting to warm up to him, actually, by the end, even after things between them were finished.” He grimaces. “I wish I hadn’t.”

“No wonder she hates him.”

“That’s not why she’s doing this, kid.” Varric takes a swig of his own drink, looking over his shoulder to where Avira exchanges quiet discussion with Cassandra and Leliana. “She’s doing this because Solas – sorry, the “Dread Wolf” or whatever it is that people call him nowadays – has to be stopped.”

The girl bites her lip. “I find her even scarier now,” she whispers. “If she can live through that, she must be unstoppable.”

“I sure hope so,” Varric says. “If not… well, maybe Solas isn’t going to be the only one that doesn’t make it out of this shit alive.”

#my writing #my commissions #solavellan #solas x lavellan #hmm idk what else to tag this as #long post #i hope u enjoy ! this was a fun one #also FT baby riel

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himluv · 5 years ago

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Never Again

Riallan’s POV of Here Lies the Abyss.

Riallan should be dead. She knew this on a deep, inexplicable level. When one plummeted into a literal abyss, surviving wasn’t usually considered a potential outcome. And yet, she wasn’t dead. She was decidedly not dead and dangling mere feet above the ground.

The world shifted, down going sideways and left becoming up so that she landed flat on her back in the dirt.

“This is unexpected,” said Hawke. She stood above Riallan, feet planted on a rock that appeared to be floating in the sky, looking down (or was it up?) at the Inquisitor.

“Oh no,” said Warden Alistair. His voice held a dreadful finality. “This is bad. Very bad.” He stood on another floating rock, this time perpendicular to what Riallan considered the ground.

“Are we…” Dorian spun around, grey eyes flitting from the rocks to the green sky to their companions in their various states of gravity. “Is this the Fade?”

Sera cursed, her voice high and thready with fear.

“If this is the Fade,” said Iron Bull, gripping his war-hammer tight. “That means demons.” He blinked at Riallan. “You know how I feel about demons, Boss.”

She accepted Dorian’s hand and he hauled her upright. She dusted herself off and said, “I’m not very fond of them, either, Bull.”

He snorted. “Don’t let Solas hear you say that.”

She rolled her eyes but decided to ignore the barb.

“How…?” Dorian started, eyes wide as he continued to take it all in.

The mark in Riallan’s hand flashed and crackled, green light snapping into the air. “I opened a rift,” she said.

“Into the Fade?” Dorian gaped at her. “You realize we’re the first to walk here, physically, since before the First Blight?”

“Sod all that!” Sera stormed up to Riallan and grabbed her left hand. “Take us back,” she shouted. “You brought us, that means you can take us back. Now!”

Riallan gently removed her hand from the elf’s frantic grip. “I don’t think it’s that simple, Sera.”

“Nothing about the Fade ever is,” Alistair said. There was a darkness in his voice, history and experience that Riallan desperately wanted to know, but now was not the time for an interview.

“We should move,” said Hawke.

Bull nodded his agreement.

So they moved, though Riallan was never quite certain they were going in the right direction. She could see the Black City always in the distance no matter how far they walked, and the little memories and whispers fascinated her.

“Solas would love this,” she said. She didn’t regret asking him to stay behind. They needed healers and he was among the best. It was the right decision. But she did regret that he couldn’t be with her in the Fade. She didn’t think any descriptions would ever be enough to appease his curiosity on the matter.

Dorian fell into step with her. “Please do endeavor to look a little less pleased, dearest,” he said. “If you haven’t noticed, poor Sera is unraveling at the seams.”

It was true. Sera hadn’t loosened her grip on her bow since they’d arrived, and her wide eyes darted every which way in case of attack.

“The only way to help Sera is to get out of here,” she said. She glanced at him. “How’re you holding up?”

He barked a laugh. “Oh, just peachy! The last time a Tevinter mage was physically in the Fade he damned the whole world to suffer the Blight. I’m sure this will be fine.”

She gave him an apologetic look. “At least we weren’t trying to come here.”

He looked around them, at the sickly green hue that coated every rock and cloud. “I suppose it is a sight better than falling to our deaths.”

“Opening a rift was quick thinking,” Hawke added.

Riallan shrugged. “It was more instinct than thought.”

“Comforting,” Dorian said.

“Good instincts, then,” Alistair said.

She shrugged. She would accept their praise when she’d managed to get them all out of the Fade in one piece.

But that proved more difficult than even she could have expected. The spirit image of Divine Justinia helped, and Riallan was glad to have her memories back, but she would gladly go back to not remembering if it meant Alistair was standing beside her in the courtyard of Adamant Fortress. Instead he’d stayed behind to buy them the precious time they needed to escape the Nightmare.

Riallan was furious as she leapt out of the green rift at the heart of Adamant Fortress. She shook with rage as she stood to stare at the men and women battling demons all around her. That rage coursed through her, tangled with her mana, and activated the Anchor in her palm.

The demons dissolved at her whim and every person who remained turned to stare at her. She couldn’t admit, couldn’t let it show, but she was shaken. To her very bones. Her head hurt, as if the weight of her memories scraped against her skull, and her heart ached. Not just for Alistair, who had proven himself the one good Warden she’d yet to meet, but for her companions. For Solas. She had seen the gravestone in the Fade, the one with his name and his greatest fear etched in the rock.

Dying alone.

His loneliness, his isolation, went deeper than even she understood. He was always separate from the others, never quite joining in, as if he stood apart from the world somehow. He wore that otherness like armor, even though it was really a cage.

The courtyard exploded into sound as soldiers cheered and Wardens called to her, but she barely heard them. Her eyes scanned the crowd, desperate to see — there!

Solas stood at the back of the throng, his face pale and his eyes red-rimmed. He didn’t smile at her, but when their eyes met the relief in his gaze nearly unmade her.

And then Wardens were clamoring for answers and all her fear and grief congealed into something sharp and furious. She had wasted enough time, enough lives on fools.

They would have no more.

She glared at the Wardens gathered around her as an Inquisition soldier brought her up to speed, but she only half-listened. Then a Warden asked after Alistair.

Lightning crackled at her fingertips. “Warden Alistair is dead, thanks to all of you,” she said. “He alone stood against Clarel’s madness.” She glowered at the Wardens. “If not for him, you’d be dead — or slaves to a servant of the Blight.”

She was so tired and angry. Tired of stupid humans making stupid choices that yet again put all of stupid Thedas at risk. She was tired of cleaning up their messes.

She was tired of losing friends.

She shook her head. “And you repaid that by branding him a traitor.”

She made to step down from the platform she stood on, made to leave these pathetic Wardens behind and find the one person she needed to see more than anything, but a Warden stopped her.

“Inquisitor,” he said from behind his gaudy griffon-winged helm. “We have no one left of any significant rank. What do we do now?”

She spun on the man, barely noting the glance from Hawke before she shouted, “you leave! By the authority of the Inquisition, you are banished from Southern Thedas.”

From somewhere in the crowd she heard Blackwall’s gasp. Heard the whispered denial at her words and she knew she had just shattered his heart.

“Hawke will oversee your return to the Warden fortress at Weisshaupt.”

Hawke nodded her agreement to Riallan’s proclamation, but said nothing. The silence hung over the fortress, heavy and cloying like smoke.

“Yes, Your Worship,” the Warden said.

“A bit dramatic, if you ask me,” Dorian said from behind her. He was probably right. She would probably regret this decision in a few days, but right then, standing in the bloody ruins of an ancient fortress, with the decimated remains of the Grey Wardens, all she wanted was to make them pay.

Someone in this Creators-damned world should face consequences.

Blackwall spoke next. “Your Worship, I would stay, if you’ll allow it, to finish our fight.”

Her heart ached at the formality of his words, of the barely restrained anger in his rough voice. “Of course,” she said. All of her fury melted away, replaced with exhaustion and a wicked wave of grief. “I have never doubted your loyalty, Blackwall.” She wondered if he would ever be able to look at her the same way after today.

“Good luck with your Inquisition,” Hawke said. She smirked. “Try not to start an Exalted March on anything.”

Riallan snorted, because at the moment anything seemed possible.

Hawke sobered, a frown replacing her smirk. “Take care of Varric for me.”

She nodded that she would, and Marian Hawke walked away to follow the few Wardens out of the fortress.

Riallan blinked and suddenly Solas was there, kneeling beside her with his hands on either side of her face. When had she sat down? She tried to look around, to see what everyone was murmuring about, but she couldn’t seem to pull her gaze from his.

Solas couldn’t seem to decide where to look. His eyes roved over every inch of her face, his thumbs brushing her cheeks, her nose, her lips.

“Hi,” she said. She was so tired she felt the sting of tears at the corners of her eyes.

“You’re alive,” he said. Then he kissed her.

It wasn’t a chaste peck, or even a romantic, lingering press of his lips on hers. It was a kiss, deep and desperate and delving. His hands shifted so that his fingers supported the back of her head, inviting her to tilt back and grant him further access. She obliged, unthinking, unable to think of anything but his lips, his tongue, the taste of him and how relieved she was that he was there.

That he was real.

He broke the kiss, panting, followed by a string of elvhen so fast she couldn’t make it out. Something about fear and death and love. Her mind felt slow after all she’d been through, and especially after that kiss, but she finally put it together.

He had thought she was dead.

Of course he had. He’d no doubt seen the bridge collapse into the Abyss

“Ir abelas,” she said. She regretted leaving him behind even more now. Not only because he would have loved the chance to walk the Fade physically, but because she would have saved him this pain.

He shook his head, but for once words seemed to fail him. He kissed her again, this time brief and frantic, before pulling her into his arms. They knelt on the stone of the fortress courtyard, Solas rocking her as the gathered Inquisition forces eventually returned to their forward base.

Only Dorian and Varric remained, just in case a stray demon or Venatori appeared. And if either of them noticed Riallan sobbing into Solas’ tunic, neither mentioned it.

#Riallan Lavellan #solavellan #dorian pavus #solas #dragon age inquisition

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buttsonthebeach · 6 years ago

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Miles to Go

@lyrium-lovesong asked me to write about her lovely universe once more, and I jumped at the chance to tackle Cullen’s POV! Thank you for this treat, friend <3

I previously wrote Saltwater, which features Freya.

Pairing: Freya Lavellan x Cullen Rutherford

Rating: General

**********

Cullen Rutherford was, allegedly, a master of self-restraint. A man who had spent his life studying it, in fact. A man who had combed through the Chantry’s litanies searching for more and more and more of it. Seeking out where all the lines were and then judiciously avoiding or guarding those lines.

Some of that had fallen away, after Meredith. Kirkwall. But in large part he still prided himself on it. He did not take unnecessary risks in his chess games with Dorian. He did not lose his temper when Leliana and Josephine argued for courses of action that he disagreed with, or when they teased him. Most importantly, he had not once taken lyrium again.

(He’d opened the pouch yes, yes, looked at it, thought about it, dreamed about it, thrown the whole thing against walls, yes, but all of those were further signs of his self-restraint.)

And he, of course, did not spend time worrying about Freya Lavellan while she was away.

That, besides the lyrium, was his greatest self-restraint. At least in Cullen’s own eyes - he had not told anyone else he felt that way. Most people would laugh at the thought. The great Commander, struggling to restrain himself from giving in to worry. So he wore that secret close to his skin, beneath every layer of armor. Swallowed it down like a sick man’s bile.

He feared for Freya almost as much as he loved her.

She was in the Emerald Graves hunting Red Templars, looking for evidence Samson had left behind, when he articulated those words clearly to himself. It was two weeks after she’d left, and he was lying in his bed, looking up at the blue-black night above him through the hole in his ceiling, at the pinpricks of the stars. After so long inside stone walls and towers it was good to be reminded they were there. This night, the comfort of that thought was interlaced with thoughts of Freya - which stars she looked upon, where she was sleeping, how her day had gone, how many times she had risked herself in battle against Corypheus’s forces, against monstrous creatures.

The thoughts were as entwined as he wished they were at that moment. The stars are beautiful tonight, and I miss Freya. The breeze feels good, and I wish Freya was here. He longed for her so strongly that the longing took physical shape and crawled into bed beside him, half convincing him that she was there, her leg thrown across his, her head pillowed on his chest, the scent of her skin and her red hair tickling his nose. At one point, half-asleep, he reached out to touch her, to stroke her back and kiss her forehead, only to realize with a start she was not there. He knew soldiers who had lost limbs, and said it felt like this - like there were times the limb seemed to come back to them, so real they could feel it once again, only to vanish like smoke.

I fear for Freya almost as much as I love her.

There was a mathematical logic in that thought, he supposed, rolling over, trying to chase the feeling of loss away. Perhaps the Maker had always weighed out fear and love in equal parts, like a merchant weighing gold and goods (you must pay this much fear for this much love) and Cullen had never known it until now. What was not logical was how much he’d been struggling to sleep since Freya left. He’d slept alone most of his life, and there were still many nights when she slept in her own chambers even when she was at Skyhold. He should be more used to this than he was to having her here, her cold feet seeking the warmth of his body, her wriggling and stirring and even occasional snoring startling him awake.

And yet, there he was, unable to sleep. Unable to think of anything but her.

Some self-restraint.

So he sat up, slung himself out of bed, and went to put on his armor. Maybe the ritual of that would be enough to bring him back to himself, his discipline. Instead he found himself thinking of her again, of the time she asked to be taught how to help him with his armor, how he’d told her it wasn’t necessary, he knew how to remove it and don it himself. How she’d rolled her eyes at him.

“I know that,” she’d said. “But I want to learn. Just because you can do something yourself doesn’t mean you should always have to.”

And just like that, there were phantom hands alongside his own - smaller and more gentle, hands used for picking herbs and healing the sick, and Cullen wanted to drop his hands to his sides and let them take over. To surrender to the feeling of being loved and cared for.

But no one was there. Not really.

Maybe she isn’t coming back this time.

He strode out of his chambers, willing the thought to stay behind.

As he made his way down the rampart that connected his chambers to the rotunda, he saw a soldier approaching at a quick step, and instinctively straightened his posture, tensed his jaw. He needed to be Commander Rutherford, now. Not some lovesick fool.

“Commander Rutherford. Did someone already come to wake you?”

“No. I had an idea to improve our defenses here, and I wanted to walk and make notes before the idea left me.”

Lying to people under his command never failed to leave a bad taste in his mouth, but it was still better than the truth. Your Commander misses his lover so much that he can’t sleep.

“Oh. That works out I suppose. I was sent to wake you and tell you that you are wanted at the War Table. The Inquisitor has sent urgent correspondence back from the Emerald Graves. She thinks she may know where Samson and his lot can be found - where we might get to the secret of Samson’s armor.”

Cullen’s heart leapt twice - once at the thought that they might have his former colleague pinned down, and then once, even higher, at the confirmation that this news from Freya was recent. That there would be a letter from her waiting at the War Table, written in her hand, that perhaps other letters had arrived, more personal ones.

You have truly gone soft, Rutherford. Focus.

He followed the soldier through the rotunda, across the cavernous great hall, past its empty throne, and down the long crumbling corridor that led to the War Table. Leliana and Josephine were both already present, Josephine looking particularly tired, while Leliana looked as alert as ever. He wondered what sort of impression he presented.

“Well,” Cullen said. “Let’s see this letter.”

“Letters, actually,” Leliana said, handing him a packet of parchment, and once again, Cullen’s heartbeat picked up its tempo, just a little, just enough for him to notice, at the thought that they all might be from Freya.

Instead they were all in Samson’s hand, dark and angular. He pressed hard on his pencils and quills whenever he wrote, leaving splotches and splatters of ink, or smearing the charcoal. Cullen experienced a moment of childish frustration, wanting to push them aside and ask if there had been any from Freya, or if these had just arrived with no context at all. Then a wave of shame washed over him, settling by his feet, lapping at his ankles, making him feel cold even beneath the layers of armor. He had dedicated himself to the Inquisition and its cause before he ever dedicated himself to Freya. How dare he let his personal feelings interfere with the task at hand for even an instant? Especially when being a good commander was the best thing he could do to ensure Freya’s safety?

“She got these from intercepting caravans of red lyrium in the Graves, yes?” Cullen asked as he skimmed them for more details, a picture already forming in his mind. None of the letters directly stated where the red lyrium came from, but they did talk about how long it was taking to get where it was going, and that gave him an idea of where to start looking on the map.

“That is correct. I am reading her letter now,” Josephine said, and Cullen’s eyes flicked towards her, seeing the parchment in her hand, seeing how the candlelight illuminated it so that he could see Freya’s handwriting clear as day. Cullen would let her finish reading it. It would be his turn soon enough, and then he could trace the letters, and it would be as close as he had come to touching her in weeks.

“Does she say where they were found?”

Cullen continued his questioning and studying, half of his attention on the smugglers’ letters, half on the answers Josephine and Leliana gave. He was forming a picture in his mind, imaging both the paths of the Red Templars and Freya in the Emerald Graves. She’d been there once before already and told him how brilliantly green they were, and how haunted they seemed. Life and death entwined. What stories would she bring back to him this time?

“Emprise du Lion,” he said finally. “I can study the maps and routes more thoroughly tomorrow, but I am fairly certain. They are quarrying the red lyrium in Emprise du Lion and then shipping it throughout Thedas. The Emerald Graves has been a major thoroughfare, but I am more than willing to believe that Freya has made a mess of that plan in the course of acquiring these letters.”

Pride tinged the words - because he feared for her, yes, but he was also fiercely proud of her. This brave and capable woman who chose to come back to him when she was done saving the world.

(Even if it seemed like it would never really be done, like it would only grow more dangerous each day.)

“As am I,” Leliana said. “I would respond telling her to rendezvous with us here in Skyhold before heading out to the Emprise, but she says here that there is a matter Solas wishes to attend to in the Exalted Plains. Depending on how long that takes, she may not be able to return to us in Skyhold before the passage is blocked by snow and ice.”

“That is not the worst turn of events,” Josephine mused. “We might wish to redirect Inquisition forces to aid her before she gets there. Your spies for intelligence, Cullen’s soldiers for support against the Red Templars, my nobles for supplies and shelter.”

“Agreed,” Leliana said. “We will continue to coordinate that with her as she heads to the Plains and back. Cullen?”

It was a good plan.

It was a good plan that would keep Freya away from Skyhold for several more weeks, and send her into the depths of the Red Templars’ organization.

He felt his fingers tightening on the letters, and forced himself to relax.

“Yes. Let us begin drawing up the letters and other orders.”

They worked long enough on the plans that by the time they emerged, the sky was beginning to lighten - deep navy turning to a softer shade of blue, gold and pink tingeing the easternmost mountaintops. Cullen knew that soon Freya would wake and see the same dawn.

I hope you get the chance to enjoy it, love. I can’t wait until the next time we watch one together. I miss you. I love you.

“Cullen,” Josephine called. She held out a small square of parchment as she approached. “This was tucked inside the envelope that everything else came in. I only just noticed it. I believe it is for you.”

Cullen waited until Josephine had walked a distance away, and then he unfolded it, and saw Freya’s messiest handwriting, and six short words.

I miss you. I love you.

An echo of his own unspoken words just moments before - a miracle as real as anything in the Chant of Light. A reminder that his life was not all self-restraint and fear. That love could outweigh all of it, and yet also lighten every burden he carried. It was not a guarantee against all the darkness in the world, against all the things that could go wrong - but it was a miracle nonetheless.

Cullen smiled and walked on, ready to face the dawn.

#beach writes #beach does commissions #cullavellan #freya lavellan #cullen rutherford #lyrium-lovesong

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athena1138 · 6 years ago

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-_- nice to know that the theory about mythal i spent 45 minutes working on never fucking posted

So, in the Fade with Morrigan and Old God Kieran, Flemeth offers Morrigan a choice. She can either leave Kieran and walk away and never be bothered by Flemeth again, or she can take Kieran and never be safe.

And without hesitation, Morrigan says she’ll take the boy. “Do whatever you wish. Take my body now if you must. But Kieran will be free from your clutches. I am many things, but I will not be the mother you were to me.”

And Flemeth is like. Incredulous. And then sad. And then pensive. And she decides to let Morrigan go.

Here’s why.

In the Fade, that’s the first time any of Flemeth’s daughters have sussed out that Flemeth and Mythal are one in the same. Indeed, Morrigan is presumably the first of Flemeth’s daughters to have figured out how she preserves her life, at least before it was their turn to give in, and presumably the first of Flemeth’s daughters to have had a child of her own due in part to Flemeth’s sequestering of them.

So, Flemeth is faced with the reminder of who she is, that she is Mythal. And then right there, she’s shown a mother’s true love, and it like. Brings her back into who she is. She’s been Flemeth, the evil witch of the woods for centuries now, but it’s been eons since she’s been Mythal. Mythal the Protector. Mythal the All-Mother. Mythal the goddess of motherhood. And here Morrigan is willing to face her greatest fear in order to save her child, to be a good mother, and it forces Mythal to realize what she does is shitty. Not even just that, but Morrigan was meant to have the child as part of a task, as a job, to be a tool, as Flemeth produces daughters to prolong her own life as tools. But here Morrigan is, willing to die for the child instead of using it for self-service, something Flemeth hasn’t done for centuries if ever.

Without the Old-God-Kieran, they don’t get that interaction. At the alter or wherever it is, there is no moment of pain that flashes across Flemeth’s face, no moment of heartache. Of course Morrigan is safe both times, but without the risk of losing Kieran, there is nothing to remind Mythal of who she is.

I think I lost my train of thought. It’s hard remembering what I said earlier dammit. But the reason I was looking for it again was because I had mentioned that Mythal is also the goddess of justice and subsequently vengeance and that I thought there might be a tie into Anders with that, and it occurred to me that I surely must be right in some regard. Because Solas means pride and Fen’Harel is legendary for his pride being the downfall of the pantheon, and what is his friend’s demonic appearance? A pride demon. I think this might mean that Anders is susceptible to Mythal, and if he’s alive, I think it would be super cool to see him come back in DA4 as a sort of thrall of Solas who now possesses Mythal’s presence.

#shut up becca #becca's theories #dragon age

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just-dread-wolfing · 7 years ago

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Giving into Fear

This has literally been something I’ve been working on for a few months now and after a kind word, I was finally able to finish it. Thank you for your support @curiosity-loves-the-kitten !

She’s grown tired of fighting the demon and the offer certainly seems tempting.

“Remember: Take deep breaths and stay strong.”

Solas’ voice rang through her mind. While it was sound advice when dealing with demons, it was easier said than done. Nira tried to sever its grasp on her mind but it was all she could do was drown at his voice. Nothing she did seemed to help. Its voice rang loudly in her mind like a mighty bell.

Do you really believe that you have the strength to get rid of me, foolish girl?

Nira closed her eyes tight and covered her ears. She pressed herself up against the closest wall she could find, but in her despair, the Fade had become a lot less stable. The Fear demon had done this to her. It had caused her to lose her grip on her own mind. She had truly tried. With Solas’ help, she had grown stronger and more confident in her abilities. None of it had helped. The demon had grown far stronger than she had ever hoped he would become.

There is not much time left. You are weak.

“Go away...” Nira’sal’s voice was dry and weak from fighting it. Nothing she did seemed to make it leave her.

Your Inquisition shall fall just as your clan did. How could you possibly save them?

The words it repeated scraped along her mind, her mind rattling with the possibilities and what ifs the demon presented her with. Lifting her head, the demon had taken the form of her brother. Its usual tactic, but it seemed effective. Soren meant the world to her and it killed her inside to think that he was now gone. There was no way she could continue to fight this demon, especially not in this form. While she had tried with all her might, it persisted. All she had managed to do, even with Solas’ help, was push it back. After what happened in the Fade, after what she had seen with her own eyes, the demon knew it had her. It was only a matter of time before she would give up.

Corypheus was only getting closer and soon she would face him. It was quite possible that she would have to face him alone, just as she did at Haven. Soren kneeled in front of her, a wicked grin spreading across his face. His face contorted as it got closer to her, but she could still see her big brother. Her greatest failure.

Do you really think that your friends will stand beside you? How could they possibly have faith in you, when you do not even have faith in yourself? Without my help, you will face Corypheus and you will fall.

Nira’sal knew what they really thought. Even after she had been chosen as the Inquisitor, Cassandra continued to search for Hawke. She was no one's first choice. She was just who had fallen into their lap at the right time and place. Even when Hawke was left in the Fade, she had seen the messages that Leliana had sent to the Hero of Ferelden. She had seen the looks that Cullen and Josephine would share. While they would try to play it off, Nira had never led anyone. She had never had to make these kinds of decisions. She had been the First that no one wanted and now she was the Inquisitor that no one wanted. Even to the last moment, they had hoped that she would be replaced. And who could blame them?

While the others put up with her, no one took her seriously. And why would they? She had never given them a reason to do so.

You are useless to them. They no longer want you around. You have nothing to offer them. What could they possibly want from you?

Iron Bull and Blackwall brought their strength in battle. Nira could always count on them to take a hit. While Sera wasn’t always the most loyal of the bunch, she was always able to turn the battle on its head. Cole had found a new purpose now that he had embraced his spirit side. Dorian was smart and quick as a whip when it came to politics and battle. Vivienne was fierce and strong and while Varric wasn’t the strongest rogue she had ever seen, he was able to weave stories and had the ability to make you believe just about anything.

Solas...was kind and inhumanly strong. Nira had grown as a healer, but even Solas was better than her in that department. She was good for nothing and...

You are weak, but I can change that.

Tears streamed down her face as she concentrated on the face in front of her. She knew it was just a demon pretending to be her brother, but just having him in front of her, she finally felt herself losing her foothold in this fight.

I can make you strong. All you have to do is accept the gift that I offer and then you will have nothing to fear.

The words it spoke were comforting coming from her brother. He had always been a source of strength for her when she had no one else. She had become so tired of fighting and nothing she did made any sort of difference. She had played some hand in uniting Ferelden and Orlais against Corypheus, but the Inquisition could have done that without her with the help of the Champion. After Redcliffe, Haven had been destroyed. Helping the Grey Wardens, she had left the Champion of Kirkwall in the Fade. Each step forward, she had hurt someone. And now? She knew that Corypheus was going to win. Nothing she could do would change that.

Maybe with this demon’s help. They would have some sort of a chance.

Nira’sal looked up at the demon. She was tired. This demon had been after her since the very start. She had tried to fight it. Solas had tried to keep her strong, but this was who she really was. The elf that gave into her fear.

“Okay.”

The demon held out his hand. She looked at her brother’s hand. She wanted to be strong and brave just like he was. Soren wasn’t afraid of anything and Nira had always been jealous of that. Even he tried to toughen her up, but nothing ever worked. She was weak.

Take my hand and your fears will leave you. Let me help you.

She nodded her head and reached her hand out.

A snarl echoed from behind her that brought her back to her senses.

Suddenly, she felt herself being thrown to the side like a ragdoll. “You will not take her.” The voice spoke, a low growl emitting under his voice. More pain shot through Nira’s body as she regained control over her body and senses. With all the strength she could muster, she pushed herself up onto her hands and opened her eyes taking deep breaths with every small movement. Though the demon only had her for a few moments, it had completely zapped her of almost all of her strength.

You dare take my prey from me, Dread Wolf? She has chosen to accept her fear. Certainly, you would not deny her this.

“Shut up! You will stand down.” A menacing growl rumbled through the Fade, forcing Nira to look up at what was happening in front of her. A large black wolf lunged himself towards the demon and once again she could feel her mind go blank.

May the Dread Wolf never catch your scent da’len. The last thing he keeper ever said to her rang through her mind. Had he found her because she had fallen prey to her fears? Surely, that was it. She would be punished for what she had done. Her keeper had warned her and now...it was over.

Within moments, the demon had fallen. She had watched the Dread Wolf tear this Fear demon to shreds and now, the wolf made its way towards her. With each step, the wolf turned into something different, someone familiar. By the time he reached her, it was Solas that stood before her.

Solas knelt down a sad expression crossing his features as he looked down at her. Nira found herself unable to make eye contact with him. "Are you hurt? Let me look at you.” He grabbed her chin to look her over, but she immediately ripped it out of his hand and dropped it to the ground.

“Who are you?” Her mind was groggy and cloudy, but she knew what she just saw. Solas was...

Nira’sal jolted into an upright position, her face covered in sweat and unable to catch her breath. She closed her eyes for a moment before she was finally able to take in her surroundings. She was still in Skyhold. Everything was fine. It was all just a dream...wasn’t it?

“Are you alright?” Solas sat up from his sleep silently, placing a gentle hand on hers. The voice startled her but calmed her at the same time.

It was a dream. It was a dream. It was a dream. She repeated that in mind over and over again. She was unable to answer him. The vision of that thing slowly changing into her Solas had been engrained in her mind.

“Nira’sal,” Solas spoke calmly, placing a hand on her chin and forcing her to look over. “Are you alright?” His eyes grew more concerned with each silent moment that passed.

She curled her knees into her chest, trying to keep the tears from falling down her cheeks. “I-I’m okay...I think...The demon-”

“I do not think Fear will be haunting your dreams further. As I traveled the Fade, I felt his existence fizzle out completely. You have nothing left to fear.” Solas smiled softly, rubbing his thumb across her hand. She could tell how hard he was trying to comfort her, but his words seemed twisted and not quite right. She knew what she saw, but surely that wasn’t really him. Solas was kind and gentle and nothing like the tales she heard throughout her village. Were she even to suggest it, Solas would probably laugh in her face.

There was no way.

“Solas, I saw...”

“Shhhhh...It was all but a dream.” Solas continued to smile, laying back down in the bed, pulling her with him. “Rest now. I will watch over you as you sleep.” Nira cozied up into the crook of his arm, resting her head on his chest. She closed his eyes, allowing his warmth to soothe her. She took a deep breath. There was nothing to be afraid of. Solas was here. As if on cue, Solas held her tighter, placing a small kiss on the top of her head. “Ar lath ma, vhenan.”

It was a dream. It was a dream.

Solas could feel her drift back off to sleep. He took a deep breath. There was a possibility that he could play off the encounter as a dream, but he had to tread carefully.

Even were she to figure out the truth, it mattered not. Their face of with Corypheus was drawing near and soon they would have to part. His main goal before his departure was to rid her of the Fear demon that plagued her and now she would be free of it. She would live the rest of her life free of the demon and once word got around that the Dread Wolf was protecting this girl, no other demon would dare come close to her. With one more deep breath, he closed his eyes, simply enjoying the short time he had left with Nira’sal.

“Everything will be alright, da’len.”

Translations:

Ar lath ma, vhenan - I love you, my heart

da’len - young one

More of my writing can be found here!

Fen’harel enansal

#dragon age #dragonage #inquisition #dai #solas #lavellan #solavellan #riniwrites #fear demon #dragon age fanfiction #dafanfics #dragon age inquisition fanfiction

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dragonagecompanions · 7 years ago

Note

Hey there! Love the blog, and I admire the effort and love you put into each work and request. So, if it's possible, could you do the DA:I companions and advisers (plus romances) reactions to the Inquisitor revealing themselves to be a vampire?

Cassandra: She is not okay with it.

In truth that is an understatement. The Seeker is incredibly unnerved by this revelation, and in the immediate aftermath avoids the Inquisitor entirely. she won’t travel with them, won’t be alone with them, and it takes hours of talking with the rest of the Inner Circle and Advisors before she is even willing to entertain the thought of their retaining the title. The idea of a creature who lives on the blood of others, whose very existence is fueled by it, seems like the darkest form of magic, and it’s likely that she will never be fully accepting of them.

Romanced: Somehow it’s worse when she loves him. This secret is too much to have been kept from her, and at the very core of her Cassandra is shaken. Fir she does love him, like she thought she would never love again, but this is…it’s untenable. Counter to everything she has ever believed or fought for, and abhorrent to her.

Sometimes love just isn’t enough.

Varric: The first time they explain their condition, stuck in a twilight state between the living and the dead, he can’t help but think of Leandra. It’s a painful memory, littered with the memory of his greatest friend holding the last member of their family and helpless to stop it.

He knows it’s an unfair comparison. Leandra’s life had been brutally cut short, and by the end of the necromancer’s experiments death had been a mercy. The Inquisitor is still has autonomy, is still able to exist and live a mostly normal life. And once the rogue understands exactly what vampirism means, and the measures the herald is taking to keep everyone safe, he is more or less okay with it.

After all, he’s seen some weird shit lately.

Solas: It’s unusual, but his greatest concern lies first in the magic that has woven itself into their flesh. He needs the anchor to fix everything that has gone wrong. And once the safety of the magic is discovered they become little more than an academic interest. After all, soon it won’t matter.

Romanced: It’s a little unnerving, and it adds to the reason that he never pursues intimacy with her. And yet it does nothing to dissuade with attraction for her, body and mind, nor balm the agony that leaving her opens in him.

Blackwall: It gives him a turn when he finds out, and there’s no denying it, but in someways their condition reminds him of the Wardens. Cursed with a slow poison and tied to Darkspawn the Wardens are more dead than alive toward the end. Certainly the Legion in Orzammar take that mentality. And once he sits down and really talks it out with them the would be Warden is perhaps the most relaxed with their leader.

Romanced: He’s spent the last ten years looking at a monster every day in the mirror. She’s not it. That’s enough for him.

Vivienne: It toes the line of blood magic, in her mind, and that is unacceptable. Blood magic is Tevinter’s Bane, a death sentence for every mage found guilty of it, and not a thing she ever intends to sully herself with. That should be the end of it, clear cut and easy to understand.

But…immunity to disease, an extended life, and at such a small price? Every other cure for her love has eluded her, and Bastian fades more each day. Her motivations may not be pure or selfless, but she will be the first person to talk to the Inquisitor about the particular details of their affliction and in doing so sheds her fear of them.

Dorian: It almost screams necromancy to him and right away Skyhold’s resident ‘Vint takes notice. This is his speciality, his stock and trade, and the idea of a whole new world so to speak is a new and exciting appeal. They are less squeamish about blood in the north after all, and while Dorian will never be a Malificar he is neither chained by Southern ignorance an is excited to learn more.

Romanced: Well, this is…different. In truth he had not considered their….particularities inside the bed chamber. But sex is sex, and he has always excelled at compartmentalizing. A few conversations about where mouths are welcome and where they are not, and it’s in for a copper and in for a gold.

Sera: She’s not okay with it. They might be Andraste’s herald and the high and mighty Inquisitor and blah blah blah, but she’s not going near them. Romance is out of the picture.

Iron Bull: It’s too close to demons, and that is not his favorite thing in the world, but the Iron Bull is here for a purpose and he intends to see it out. It takes a long time for him to be comfortable with them, but if the Chargers are saved they still earn a place among the band. A place at the back, maybe but still.

Romance: Nope. Adventures he may be, particularly in between the sheets, but this is well past the lines he has drawn.

Cullen: Like Cassandra he is very uncomfortable with the idea at first. It’s so close to blood magic, and he has had enough of that for a life time. An yet Kirkwall is so fresh to him, the lessons of judgement and the failures that come with it so new, that he finds himself more open minded. Not so much that he is immediately receptive to this new change, but enough that he is willing to listen.

Romance: It’s a long, long road, and it might not succeed. But Cullen has done enough terrible things in his life for less reasons then survival– he has no room to judge.

Josephine: A diplomat to her core, Josephine has the least visible reaction to this news and is so lost in the plans on how to move forward that she quite forgets to be frightened. They are still the Inquisitor, still have the power to close the rifts and still have at least the rumor of Andraste’s Blessing. That is enough for her.

Romance: She loves them. They love her. That is quite enough for the Antivan.

Leliana: Two wardens, a golem, a Witch of the Wilds, an abomination, the most inebriated person alive, the future Arishok, Antivan’s most talkative crow, an a mabari traveled with her and ended a Blight in eleven months. Ten years later a spirit healer with a compassionate heart for cats and the misfortunate murdered hundreds by blowing the chantry at Kirkwall out of existence. Now a creature from Tevinter legend is tearing holes in the Veil to bring back the ancient imperium.

Leliana has long since stopped being phased by things. If the Inquisitor keeps their fangs hidden she will do the same.

– Mod Fereldone

#dragon age inqusition #Cassandra Pentaghast #varric #Solas #vivienne #blackwall #dorian #the iron bull #Leliana #Josephine #cullen

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sky-scribbles · 7 years ago

Text

OC described by companions

@norroendyrd tagged me to do this for ‘Levyn Trevelyan’ - aka, Jowan, who, after running from Redcliffe, changed his name, joined the mage rebellion, and ended up as the Inquisitor.

The rules:

Describe your OC as they are described by your companions.

Show us what they look like!

Tag at least 5 (or more) followers and 5 blogs you follow! :) (Not gonna tag anyone this time, unless they want to do it!)

Enjoy writing! :}

Here’s the disaster child (who I’ve tried my best to recreate in Inquisition graphics):

And here are the companions’ thoughts on him:

Cassandra

We have not spoken since he confessed the truth. At first, he simply frustrated me, with his vocal, if nervous, support for the rebellion, and his constant habit of finding some way to fall down gullies or spring traps. Then, when I had started to respect him for the good he was doing, I learned he was a liar. A maleficar. He led the Inquisition under a false name, made us all into deceivers. I... know he has done good things. I would not want him removed from his position. But though I will fight with him, I can’t forgive him. Not yet.

Blackwall

When I met him, I thought he was out of his depth. A jumpy mage who didn’t know what he was doing and didn’t have the nerve for leadership. But he was so... admiring of the Wardens. He so obviously respected me, and felt safe around me, and it was... I felt unworthy of being admired by him. I told myself all I could do was protect him and try to be worth his admiration. When I was dragged before him in chains, I couldn’t bear to look at him. Couldn’t bear to see him get his pedestal broken. But then he... he confessed who he was. To everyone. Pardoned me, because he wouldn’t punish a man for crimes so similar to his own. That’s dogshit, of course. He acted out of fear, he was trying to help. I acted out of greed. I’ll stand by him now, the way he stood by me, and if anyone has a problem with who he was, they can take it up with my fist.

Iron Bull

Gotta say, I’m surprised I didn’t have him pegged as a blood mage. But you can’t see the scars on someone’s hand when the scars on someone’s hand when they’ve got a glowy Fade mark in the way, can you? Guess I know why he always seemed so edgy around me, he thought I’d catch on to him. Smart guy. (laughs) I know I should be keeping an eye on him, what with all the blood magic and demon crap, but... gah. I look at him, all I see’s a kid who’s been treated like crap trying to find out who he is. Got a lot of those in the Chargers. Life’s too short to keep hating people over what they used to be.

Sera

At first he was just good to laugh at, ‘cause he was always tripping over things and screwing up stuff, like that time when he knocked Bull into the sea. Or when he fell into that quicksand stuff. Or when those druffalo chased him halfway across the Hinterlands. And when he wasn’t getting his butt kicked by something, he was busting it to help the little people. Guess he’s trying to make up for everything, right? Not a fan of the whole blood magic shite, but that’s years done. Like Beardy, he’s trying. Aren’t many who try. Plus, turns out he’s not really a Trevelya-whatever-noble-nob after all. So that’s good.

Varric

Pretty good hero’s journey, start out as the sidekick to one of the world’s greatest heroes, accidentally destroy a town, set out to make amends... Disaster’s a lot less ‘brooding angsty hero’ and more ‘tearful nervous hero’, but I don’t know. Maybe we’ve had enough dark. Maybe it’s good to have a hero who gets upset by mistakes and just wants to help. He’s a good kid who lost his way, so he needs someone to be looking out for him and picking him up when he falls. Might as well be me.

Cole

Memories scattered like blood on the Circle floor. A knife drawn across a shaking hand, arm thrown out to protect her, but she turned away. I don’t know you, blood mage. Dark liquid in the Arl’s drink, corpse feet dragging, the Arlessa’s men with cold eyes. Regret rips, red and rending. Have to make it right. He never wanted to hurt, he wanted to help, and then he changed. He’d never do it again, and he’s scared and good and he cares. That’s enough. Levyn Trevelyan was a shield, because he thought no one would ever want Jowan. But now he tries the name again. Jowan. It sounds strange and it reminds him of the wrong and the red, but a soft voice shapes the name and it sings a little stronger.

Vivienne

I respected him at first - he was a Circle mage, and from a noble family, or so I thought. I wasn’t pleased when he made it clear that he was in support of the dissolution of Circles and the Templars, but all the same, he reminded me of many impressionable, clumsy young apprentices. I was willing to tutor him, help him control his magic... and then this came to light. A maleficar. Never harrowed. Responsible for countless deaths because he, an incompletely-trained apprentice, presumed to think he could train a child who should have been in the Circle. It’s a disgrace to the inquisition, to have such a man at its head. And yet... he brought me the wyvern heart. He came with me to Bastien’s side. He’s been avoiding me since all this happened, but perhaps... perhaps I should offer him another lesson. His barriers really do need work.

Dorian

Jowan? Well, I suppose it’s easiest for me. I never had any shockingly dramatic revelation, I had the privilege of knowing the truth from the start. When he broke down in Redcliffe, during that dark future, when he spilled the whole story of his last disaster in Redcliffe to me... all I saw was the inevitable result of these ridiculous southern Circles. Terrify a mage enough,and of course he’s going to resort to forbidden magic. Most blood mages I’ve seen have just wanted power - and I’ve seen an awful lot of them. Jowan wanted to not be turned into an automaton, thank you very much. I found myself taking him under my wing a little, showing him how to embrace his magic - he’s actually a very powerful entropy mage - and since he could talk to me about who he really is, we ended up as... friends, I suppose. Seems rather infantile to slap a ‘best’ onto that title, but I can’t deny it’s accurate. Don’t tell anyone.

Solas

At first, I pitied him, as I pity all mages who are taught to fear who they are. When I learned the truth, I was angry to begin with, but now I respect how far he has come. He was a child threatened with becoming a shadow of a person. He sowed destruction, but out of good intentions and ignorance, not out of malice. He ran from what he did rather than face it, but he has accepted it now. He has saved the place he once nearly destroyed, and more besides. He is trying to rebuild. (sighs) It is all any of us can do.

Cullen

I did wonder why he always walked large circles around me. I thought it was just because I was an ex-Templar, but since he confessed... I remember him from Kinloch Hold. Always nervous, huddling in Surana’s shadow. I expect he learned the blood magic from Uldred’s lot -

But he wasn’t there when Ulred - well. I’ve tried to despise him for it. For the blood magic, for poisoning a good man, for Redcliffe. And then I think of the things I did, when I was younger, and ignorant. I’ll keep an eye on him, in case he ever turns to blood magic again, and I doubt it’ll ever stop being awkward talking to him. But I suppose he deserves a second chance.

Leliana

He never had me fooled. By the time he closed that rift in the Temple of Sacred Ashes, I’d remembered his face, his voice. At first, it deepened my suspicion of him - the last time I’d come across him following a catastrophe, he had instigated it, albeit accidentally. But I reminded myself that my friend Surana trusted him, and I am glad I gave him the chance. He has thrown himself upon the chance to help and redeem himself - a chance I once needed myself - and he has done well. I... try to look out for him, for Surana’s sake. He would not forgive me if his oldest friend was hurt on my watch. That said, if he had broken Josephine’s heart as he broke his first love’s, no one would ever have found his body.

Josephine

I... found him endearing from our first meeting. He was nervous, and scared, but so kind and eager to help. He never seemed like a distant leader, only a normal person trying to deal with something so much bigger than he was. I promised myself I would do my best to take care of him, and... well, one thing led to another.

When... when he confessed his past to me, I was shaken. But I understood. A single death I caused foolishly has weighed on me all these years. It pains me to think of all the guilt he carries, for deaths that came about because he wanted to help. Perhaps I should have been angry with him, but I was not. He had told me the truth, knowing that I might turn away from him. If anything, I was... touched, that he trusted me with it.

So I kept his secret, and encouraged him to face up to his past when the time was right. And when he did at last... I was so proud of him. He has come so far. He will go further - and I will always be at his side.

#tag #oc described by companions #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #jowan #inquisitor jowan #skyhold gang #inquisitor x josephine #josephine x trevelyan

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sulevinblade · 7 years ago

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OC Interview Meme

Tagged by: @mocha-writes (hopefully it tags you properly this time? But still, THANK YOU!!)

I’ll tag: @gremlinquisitor ofc, and anyone else who wants to do it! I don’t know who all among you may have already done it for your OCs but I love reading these!!

Since I did Ghilanel here, this one will be with Varevas. I’m... sorry, about him.

1. What is your name?

“You’ve lost my confidence with the very first question.”

2. What is your real name?

“Varevas, First of Clan Lavellan and Lord Inquisitor. I should make you use the entire thing for the duration as penance for not doing the least amount of background research.”

3. Do you know why you were called that?

“The end of it is just titles, of course, and I’m called those because I earned them, more or less. My given name is a variation of one given to at least one child in every generation of our clan in order to ensure someone carries our freedom forward. But no pressure.”

4. Are you single or taken?

“I am taken, frequently and to great mutual satisfaction.”

5. Have any abilities or powers?

“I love hearing them called powers because the implication is I went to bed one night unable to conjure a great fist of stone out of the loose Fade energy pouring from the rifts and then woke up able to do so. Maybe that’s how it looks to people who don’t possess magic of their own. I have many abilities, learned and honed through time and training. I have one power and that is closing rifts. I had nothing to do with that.”

6. Stop being a Mary Sue.

“I have no idea who that is.”

7. What’s your eye color?

“Green, light green.”

8. How about your hair color?

“Dark red. I’m thinking of growing it out.”

9. Have you any family members?

“My mother was killed by human bandits but my father is still alive, and I have one younger brother and a cousin with whom I’m quite close.”

10. Oh? What about pets?

“No, but recently we were in the Emerald Graves and I found a handful of caterpillars all climbing on some sort of communal nest or cocoon site. I didn’t really think anything of it and no one there knew what kind they were or if they were dangerous, but they did seem to respond to the sound of our voices. It was as though it startled them, but it looked like they were dancing, so I spent a few minutes teaching them different rhythms. I don’t think they cared for it but I never said I was good with animals. Bull thought it was hilarious.”

11. That’s cool I guess, now tell me about something you don’t like.

“I don’t like having my ancedotes dismissed. If we’re looking on a larger scale, I really don’t like that there’s an ancient magister threatening to destroy the world and start over and some people’s greatest concern is still how the ears of the person leading the fight to stop that are shaped.”

12. Do you have any hobbies/activities you like doing?

“I enjoy reading. My clan didn’t have many books and what we did have were focused on our history and written by other elves, which is very effective if you don’t ever plan on interacting with anyone other than elves ever. I can understand why many in my clan would have preferred that but I’ll take Skyhold’s library any day.”

13. Ever hurt anyone before?

“Oh yes, it’s a running joke. If you asked Dorian what my hobbies are, he’d tell you it’s indiscriminate murder, but I think I’m very discriminating.”

14. Ever… killed anyone before?

“I got ahead of myself with the last one. Well, asked and answered, but again, it’s not indiscriminate.” He looks unusually serious for a moment. “I learned my history and I know what indiscriminate murder looks like. What Corypheus intends is indiscriminate. What I am doing, as a representative of the Inquisition, is as thoughtful as it can afford to be. I don’t expect the families of people on the other side to thank me but I am doing what I feel has to be done.”

15. What kind of animal are you?

“A bear. Please ignore all follow up commentary from Dorian should there be any.”

16. Name your worst habits.

“I enjoy reading but I’m very bad at finishing books. There’s a stack of them beside my bed, all with bookmarks in them just waiting for my attention span to resolve itself. I don’t spend as much time here [in Skyhold] as I probably ought to but I’m not comfortable here. I interrupt Dorian’s research on a daily basis, though I can’t say that’s really all that bad since he still gets an impressive amount done.”

17. Do you look up to anyone at all?

“It’s disappointing to me that our differing opinions on the sovereignty of mages keeps Vivienne from giving me so much as the time of day because she’s achieved a kind of power and status that defies all expectations I have ever held for myself as a mage, and I was going to be Keeper of my clan. She’s competent, powerful, self-possessed, and a dazzling conversationalist. Many of those same things can be said of Solas but he also hasn’t kept himself apart in the same way so what admiration I may have for him is tempered by familiarity. We’re friendly, though I do still look up to him and now that he knows we share an interest in manipulating the energy coming from the rifts I think we’ll become even closer. Vivienne, however, is a class apart.”

18. Gay, straight, or bisexual?

“Gay. What a strange way to follow up your previous question.”

19. Do you go to school?

“And yet another unexpected turn! I began a mentorship under my clan’s Keeper as soon as I came into my magic. She ensured I studied other subjects as well but the main focus was history and lore; that’s a Keeper’s function, after all, it’s... it’s literally the name. Keeper.”

20. Do you ever want to marry and have kids one day?

“I haven’t really thought about it. I want to spend the rest of my life with Dorian but marriage is complicated for a lot of reasons, and frankly I can’t imagine anyone who takes the threat our world faces right now seriously daydreaming about raising a child. I want to make sure we have a world where raising families is still a possibility at the end of this but for myself, I don’t know.”

21. Do you have any fanboys/fangirls?

"I pay for my drinks at the Herald’s Rest just like anyone else. I really don’t care for being recognized even though I realize it’s inevitable. Except with you, though, you didn’t even know my name.”

22. What are you most afraid of?

“Fucking it all up. Absolutely just ruining everything. I like to keep my fears general so I’m always just a little terrified, it’s very motivational.”

23. What do you usually wear?

“I prefer light clothing that allows me to move easily. I need to ground myself in order to cast but I need to have my arms and body free.”

24. Do you love someone?

“I do. I never imagined that being an outcome of all this but I’m also lucky enough that he loves me back.”

25. When was the last time you wet yourself?

“Have you ever been gripped by the wrist and hoisted like a wet rag doll by a twelve-foot-tall creature made of red lyrium and avarice who wanted nothing more than to snap your hand off and kill you, knowing all your back-up had fled because you sent them away and the only outcome of this encounter was your death? You’d pee a little too, trust me.”

26. Well, it’s not over yet!

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he made me piss myself again, but this time I’ll be ready.”

27. What class are you? (High class, middle class, low class)

“Being the First of the clan meant I enjoyed certain privileges but our clan was not a wealthy one. My life here in Skyhold is an improvement in a lot of ways over life with the clan in that regard, and I suppose I am a lord now.”

28. How many friends do you have?

“More than six but less than ten. Draw your own conclusions.”

29. What are your thoughts on pie?

“Surprisingly difficult to make but worth it.”

30. Favourite drink?

“The water in Skyhold is the cleanest, freshest tasting water I’ve ever had, and it’s often bitterly cold too, so cold your teeth ache when you drink it. The castle is too cold to really enjoy that but I do enjoy it. Dorian thinks I’m mad but it’s the only cold thing I like.”

31. What’s your favourite place?

“My quarters, with all the doors closed and curtains hauled over them, a fire on and my lover close at hand. It’s the only way I can thaw out.”

32. Are you interested in someone?

“Keep. Up.”

33. What’s your bra cup size and/or how big is your willy?

“I've received no complaints.”

34. Would you rather swim in the lake or the ocean?

“Dorian tells me in Tevinter they have great indoor baths for swimming in. Given the option, one of those.”

35. What’s your type?

"Fire and Rift.” He pauses and sighs. “I don’t know that I could ever be with someone who wasn’t a mage. It made life in the clan very isolating because even as the First you were still seen mostly as competition for younger mages who wanted to keep their place in the clan. Having a ‘type’ never occurred to me. It still hadn’t when I ended up here. I don’t know that I have one. I love Dorian. I don’t need a type.”

36. Any fetishes?

His eyes flash and narrow and Varevas leans forward in his chair. “Whenever possible, I try to convince Dorian to keep his clothes on when I go down on him. I get off on the smell of the leather and the jingle of all those ridiculous buckles and clasps keeping him bound up while I try to make him explode.” He maintains eye contact the entire time he speaks and there’s not a hint of color on his cheeks. “Dorian is an incredibly private man who would be profoundly hurt if I revealed anything factual in a situation like this, so do with that statement what you will.”

37. Seme or uke? Top or Bottom? Dominant or Submissive?

“We’re done discussing this.”

38. Camping or indoors?

“Indoors. Who doesn’t like being warm and dry?”

39. Are you wanting the interview to end?

“If that’s what it takes to end these questions about my private affairs then yes.”

40. Now it’s over!

“Brilliant. You can show yourself out.”

#varevas lavellan #the dalish disaster himself #the pet question is absolutely a reference to the caterpillar rave vine #i was watching vine compilations the other night #and decided that one is var #also ctrl+f how many times he mentions dorian #the boy's got it bad #this was so much fun #i love him even if he's not my canon inq #thank you again for the tag!!#oc interview meme

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obsidianmichi · 8 years ago

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Eirwen studied him for a moment with her bright blue eyes. “I suppose it might seem strange on the surface and, maybe, a bit hostile.” Pushing her fingers through her hair, brushing back orange bangs. “Still, it... isn’t what you’re thinking.”

He leaned forward, suddenly restless.

“Besides, I can’t say I don’t deserve the way she treats me,” Eirwen added. “Ellana is worried. She wants me to return home. She’s just terrible at showing concern, and it turns to hostility. Badgering or emotional bullying become means of getting what she wants.”

Solas swallowed, he supposed that answered a few questions though it opened up several more. Ellana’s hostility toward another member of her Clan bothered him less. Or, perhaps, more. He’d not wanted to be the cause of their tension. The idea he might seemed silly now too. His mind should not have traveled in that direction. Ellana lashing out at Eirwen for the reasons she stated were far more worrying. “I see, it is only natural she would want her family somewhere safe and away from the fighting.”

“Oh,” Eirwen paused, her lashes fluttered. “No.”

“No?” He hid his confusion.

She took a quick swig of ale, her nose wrinkling at the taste. “Ellana doesn’t want me to leave the Clan.”

Carefully, Solas made a study out of the wood grains on the table. Out of all the answers he expected, the idea Eirwen might be considering leaving the Dalish hadn’t been one of them. Ellana seemed perfectly content, perfectly proud of her people. She did not ask questions. He’d assumed Eirwen to have similar opinions. They were of the same Clan.

“You’ve said before our Keeper was wise to take an interest in the affairs of humans, but you never asked why she sent me.”

“A Dalish First did seem an odd choice,” he agreed. “From what I understand you are the future leader of your Clan, are you not? A risk, certainly, to send you to a Conclave filled with Templars.”

Eirwen bit her lip, her eyes narrowed. Considering, he realized. She sat still and in silence for some time, and he stayed in silence with her. “Deshanna felt it was important I see the world,” she said. “She wanted me to experience how the shemlen lived, so I could make my decision.”

Solas blinked, and found himself leaning ever closer. He’d not expected that attitude either. “I do not suppose you will explain why the opinions of the humans might be under consideration in choosing a future Keeper.”

Eirwen smiled. “I didn’t go to understand them, Solas. This journey is about me, about who I am and what I want.” Her eyes swept over her ale. “Keeper knew I needed to understand my options.”

“There are few in this world for mages and elves, fewer still when both traits are combined,” Solas countered.

Her finger circled the mug’s lip. “Our way, the Dalish way, is only one way of living. There’s more to this world than just us. A Keeper must be able to see what others can’t.”

“I see,” Solas murmured, though in truth he didn’t.

“I planned to go alone, but Ellana overheard,” Eirwen continued. “She insisted she come.” Her lips twitched. “To protect me from my stupid choices, those were her words.” Then, her smile faded. “Poor Ellana, she doesn’t understand.”

“She is frightened then that you will never return,” Solas said. “I confess, I do not see why you would not. It is your duty to carry on the traditions of your people.”

“Among the Dalish, we believe a decision made for the wrong reasons corrupts both the work and its purpose,” Eirwen replied, her voice even. “This choice must be made for the right ones, with a clear heart and mind. I have worked hard to become Keeper, but I…” she trailed off, “I have doubts. I want to know if this path is the right for me.” Her fingers interlocked, both hands clenched together on the table. “I need to see clearly.”

He wondered if she’d planned to say something else.

“A Keeper is more than a leader,” she added softly. “We are our Clan’s spiritual guides, a source of wisdom and ancient knowledge. It is our duty to see the Clan through hardship, and aid them in the discovery of their purpose. I suppose,” she tapped her chin, “I’ve more in common with Chantry sisters than Circle mages, closer to Cassandra and Leliana than Vivienne.”

“I see,” Solas nodded, though he found he did not know what else to say. At least, he did not without additional condescension.

“Ellana doesn’t...” Eirwen sighed. “For her, Clan Lavellan is her home. Among the Dalish, a member of our Clan leaving our forests is the greatest sin. We should not be in the Inquisition at all.” Her fingers twitched. “And I… I am blessed with the gift of magic, the Creator’s magic and the ancient secrets of our Clan.” With a sigh, she stretched her hands and arms above her head. “You see, when I was born a red star glowed in the heavens. Revaslin da’elgara el’somniar thenerdin, freedom’s blood at dawn. The same star our legends say shone on the morning of Shartan’s birth. The others, they see me as marked by the gods for greatness. So, for Ellana, there is no choice to be made. She doesn’t know why I haven’t gone home.”

Solas paused, his hands flat on the table. This had been about him, he realized, though not in the way he imagined. “The Inquisitor believes I will…” he searched for the right word, “tempt you from your purpose.”

Eirwen laughed. “You’re hardly a demon, Solas. I’d say she considers you more a contributing factor. She worries about my work with refugees and soldiers. Each day I stay, I only confirm her fears.”

He looked away, disgruntled. He did not know whether he was bothered by the fact he ranked so low, considering Dalish superstitions or that the Inquisitor clung to these silly superstitions at all. The Anchor had been passed by an act of chance, and she had survived it despite her lack of magical talent. That should be enough. Eirwen, at least, seemed to take it in stride though he supposed she’d come with a far better frame of mind for it. In the end, regardless of whatever trappings worn, the answer was simple. Ellana does not wish for her friend to leave her family. He thought on Ellana’s hostility, which must have begun from the moment Eirwen decided to remain with the Inquisition. A choice made long before their first face to face interaction. Indeed, he could not remember her in Haven. “Yet, you have stayed regardless of the Inquisitor’s wishes.”

“If I allowed Ellana to bully me into returning home then the choice would be made for the wrong reasons,” Eirwen said. “I need to know I’m the right person, in the right place, at the right time. She can’t answer that, only I can.”

“Perhaps,” he began slowly, “there is some merit to Dalish wisdom after all.”

She arched a brow. “I’ll take the compliment as it was meant, rather than how it sounded.”

“I apologize,” Solas said. “You are wiser than most. I consistently find myself surprised by our conversations.”

Eirwen snorted. “Your bar is set incredibly low, Solas. Or, maybe,” her head tilted and she smiled, “you just have a low opinion of me.”

He sighed heavily. There was no way to escape it, he always seemed to offend one way or another. “That was not my intention.”

“Well, I’d say a gentle ribbing is in order,” Eirwen said. “I’m not the Inquisitor, so I don’t need to worry about bringing you down a peg or three.” She giggled. “I suppose I’m just lucky you haven’t gone off on silly Dalish superstitions.”

Solas studied her for a moment, incredulous. The knot in his stomach loosened and he smiled. There it was, he thought, that boundless, centered certainty. He knew he looked into the eyes of a woman who anchored the world. A leader, yes, and a spiritual guide. Yet, the more he looked the more he found he could not imagine her as a Keeper. She was something else. “What… do you think you might do if you were free?” He swallowed. “Should you choose not to return to your Clan.”

“There’s much of the world I haven’t seen,” Eirwen replied. “Perhaps, I’ll wander the wilds and find the secret places, or visit the Alienages to bring the city elves some comfort.” She rested her chin on her hand. “I doubt I’d ever stay in one place long.” Her lips twitched. “I can’t say the idea of being a witch ghosting through the woods doesn’t appeal, bound to nothing and no one.”

“What of relationships?” he asked, surprised by his boldness. “Walking the world by yourself would certainly be a lonely endeavor, though I am certainly not one to chastise such a choice.” His fingers drummed the table. “Have you not considered settling down, building a family?”

“Well, I do have an arranged marriage,” she said. “I suppose I could take it up again, but that would involve returning to the Clan.”

Solas choked.

Dabbing her mouth with a napkin, she smiled. “Honestly, Solas, I haven’t given it much thought.”

This actually answered the question of why Eirwen was at the Conclave, which I’ve actually never had a good answer to. I wasn’t actually trying to redress the whole Bioware concept of “Keeper wanted me to see the world” when a Dalish clan has too many mages and somehow I did. Since Keepers are closer to DnD druids and DnD druids are nature clerics, I’ve always ended up headcanoning that they’re more like shaman or, I guess, medicine men. They’re more than just keepers of knowledge or Clan Chiefs, they’re spiritual guides. I suppose we can call them counselors and therapists, and that spiritual leadership is important. It’s the kind of leadership that’s easily corrupted, and a choice that can be made for the wrong reasons.

We can’t discover if a path is what we want when we’ve never experienced anything else. When the road is hard and difficult, it’s even more important to know we chose to walk it. So, for Dalish mages, it’s less, “we’re kicking you out because we don’t have room for you” and instead, “you chose to leave so you could figure out if this crucial, important path of leadership is right for you and for us.“ A change in intention shifts the whole thing so much. It’s part of the training.

Eirwen takes that very seriously, but she’s always been filled with indecision. For her, traveling to the Conclave was a spiritual journey as much as a physical one. For Eirwen, I think the answer to being Keeper was always no. She doesn’t want that, she wants to find her own will to power and path of leadership.

It’s funny, I’ve been listening to the Lion King Broadway Recording lately and there’s a lot of themes there that connect with Eirwen’s journey. Endless Night is a really good one, Shadowland. (Shadowland works for Ellana too.) Also, He Lives In You.

(Yes, Ellana is the generic Inquisitor name so I went with that. She’s a Dalish hunter/rogue. I am sorry if your Inquisitor is also named Ellana and this one’s not like her at all.)

I find it a little fascinating that Eirwen and Solas have similar conversations when she isn’t Inquisitor. They’re actually less tense because she doesn’t have to play nice with him, there’s less concern over what is and isn’t appropriate. Fewer confusions about boundaries and relationships with subordinates. Solas is also more relaxed, mostly because he doesn’t need her or need her to be successful as a proxy for fixing his Corypheus mistake. He just isn’t sure what to do with her.

#solavellan #eirwen au #eirwen x solas #eirwen lavellan

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carcinoaquarium · 8 years ago

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alright kk, don't say i didn't warn you lmao: Dearest Karkat, I am the anon whom you blessed with that dragon age tangent and i was bettered for it bc that tangent was great. When I played da:i I knew jack-all about the characters and literally only chose to be an elven female bc she had the most romantic options and I was going in thinking 'hell yeah imma romance the first available qunari of the series, you kidding me?' (1/7)

And then i chatted w solas and the literal first 'flirt' option w him is to tell him you aren't going to harass him for being an apostate and that was so /sad/ to think about, like he's so...lonely? Not to mention his greatest fear is dying alone?? Also he was hella intelligent and had interesting conversations and was suave as fuck, and I ended up being like "iron bull who?" and got my hEART RIPPED FROM MY CHEST, OW because solas has gotta be one of my fave villains in media to date. (2/7)

Also loghain, whom I didn't really appreciate until after I'd beheaded him. Whoops. Actually, I'd love to keep talking to you about dragon age?? i haven't been able to chat w a new(ish) fan in ages and these games have such depth. (also, dorian was absolutely my inquisitor's moirail, too, tbh. Although that's technically a romantic relationship, and Dorian is gay...? They're def BFFLs, tho, once Dorian was less racist against elves. Everyone in dai was kinda racist against elves.) (3/7)

Actually, elf Inquisitors kind of got a really fucking short stick in da:i. Not only did all of thedas hate them for being an elf, but there wasn't a single elf in that party that didn't challenge and beat on their religion (which is worse if they weren't already questioning it, as my inquisitor was), and even the people you can date don't seem to comfort you once your entire understanding of the world comes crashing down around your eyes. (4/7) (shit, i might hit the ask limit)

To a lesser extent this happens to the dwarves, too! Like, idk if you played the Descent dlc, but spoiler-free the dwarven religion is kind of picked apart and in the Tresspasser sequel we find out the ancient elves did a lot of shitty subjugating of the dwarven race, and not to mention the qunari are implied to be a race made through scientific genetic SPLICING of human and/or elven genes with fucking /dragons/, and it's like?? Man, give these fantasy races a break. (5/7)

Humans were the only ones who weren't really fucked with, they just kinda showed up from the north and invaded thedas while all that other political stuff was going on. But playing as a human's always seemed so boring to me, lmao. Did you play DA:O and DA2, too? (6/7) I feel like 200% nerd power right now,but the amount of effort and heart bioware put into these games is fascinating and i can't help but love dissecting it. Feel free to respond in private if u don't wanna clog ur blog w DA. (7/7)

YES. LET’S DO THIS. PROBABLY GOING TO BE A LONG REPLY SO I’LL READ MORE THIS SHIT.

ALTHOUGH I ONLY PERSONALLY PLAYED THROUGH ONE ROMANCE I OF COURSE HAD TO WATCH ALL OF THE COMPILATIONS ON YOUTUBE BECAUSE THAT’S JUST THE KIND OF GLUTTON I AM. SO YEAH. I AM FAMILIAR WITH SOLAS’ ROMANCE ARC. AND MAN I HAVE TO SAY YOU HAD TO BE MASOCHISTIC AS HELL TO RIDE THAT ONE OUT AND ENDURE THE MOST HEARTBREAKING OUTCOME OF THEM ALL. BLACKWALL WAS BAD ENOUGH, BUT AT LEAST, YOU KNOW, IT GETS BETTER IF YOU CHOOSE IT TO.

DON’T GET ME WRONG, IT PLAYED OUT BEAUTIFULLY. BUT SADFPSDHFHSDF I WOULDN’T HAVE BEEN ABLE SEE THAT THROUGH.

AND I SERIOUSLY DID NOT SEE SOLAS’ TURN COMING. IT WAS AMAZING. HE WAS SO CONVINCING THE ENTIRE TIME. JUST THE BOOKISH APOSTATE ELF WHO LIKED TO PAINT MURALS AND FANBOY OVER THE FADE IN IAMBIC PENTAMETER. FUCKING. IAMBIC. PENTAMETER. THAT WAS PRETTY AMAZING. ERIDAN APPRECIATED THAT. ALTHOUGH IT WAS HARD NOT TO THINK OF SOLLUX WHEN WE SAID HIS NAME. ESPECIALLY ERIDAN.

fuckin sol

BUT HOLY SHIT. I NEVER SAW IT COMING. AND YET WHEN YOU PLAYTHROUGH A SECOND TIME YOU SEE ALL THE LITTLE HINTS. MY SECOND PLAYTHROUGH WAS FULL OF ME SCREAMING AT THE SCREEN

“OOOOOH, SUUUUUUURE. TELL ME YOUR VAGUE ASS REASON FOR BEING HERE AGAIN, YOU LYING PIECE OF SHIT.”

“I SEE WHAT YOU DID THERE, DREAD WOLF. GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY FACE.”

“YOU KNOW WHAT? THE FADE IS BORING. SPIRITS ARE BORING.”

“MAYBE I SHOULD SKIP THESE ELVEN PUZZLES THIS TIME, EGGSPONGE. OR MAYBE PISS IN THIS WELL. OR FIGHT THE IMMORTAL ELF DUDE. HMMMM??"

“I’M RUBBING MY BULGE AAAAALLL OVER THIS FEN’HAREL STATUE. YEAH. THAT’S RIGHT. WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THAT??”

“WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO GIVE YOU A *HAND* WITH THAT QUEST??? OH I BET YOU WOULD.”

SERIOUSLY THOUGH I THOUGHT THE WAY SOLAS’ CHARACTER ARC UNROLLED WAS MASTERFUL. THE WAY HE PULLS THE INQUISITOR ASIDE NEAR THE END OF THE MAIN GAME TO TELL THEM THAT THEY EXCEEDED HIS EXPECTATIONS AND THAT HE TRULY VALUES THEM AS A FRIEND... I DON’T THINK I’LL EVER REALLY KNOW IF HE MEANT IT BUT I LIKE TO THINK HE DID. AND THAT IT GENUINELY SURPRISED HIM THAT THE PERSON HE WAS OUT TO MANIPULATE NEARLY CHANGED HIS WORLD VIEW IN THE END. THAT’S HOW YOU WRITE A THREE DIMENSIONAL ANTAGONIST.

FFFF. THE RACE SHENANIGANS. DRAGON AGE AND SKYRIM REALLY LIKE TO PLAY UP THE DISCRIMINATION AND OUTRIGHT PERSECUTION OF ELVES, WHICH STANDS IN SHARP CONTRAST TO THE TOLKIENIAN LORE IT ALL STEMS FROM WHERE ELVES ARE (MOSTLY) POWERFUL AND RESPECTED AMONG HUMANS. I LIKE IT THOUGH. IT’S AN INTERESTING SPIN. THE DWARF HATE TOO. I FUCKING LOVED THE WAY THE ORLEASIAN COURT NOT-SO-COVERTLY THREW SHADE AT YOU IN THE WINTER PALACE FOR BEING A DIRTY LOWBLOOD INFERIOR RACE. IT MADE PUTTING THEM ALL IN THEIR PLACE A WHOLE LOT SWEETER. AGAIN. WISH FULFILLMENT.

I HAVE TO AGREE THOUGH THAT THE GAME SOMETIMES KIND OF DID A SHITTY JOB OF ACKNOWLEDGING THE ELF AND DWARF INQUISITORS’ PERSONAL STRUGGLES WITH THEIR RACE, AND I GUESS THAT COMES DOWN TO THE SHIPLOAD OF DIALOGUE CUSTOMIZATION THE DEVS ALREADY HAD ON THEIR PLATE. I REMEMBER BEING ESPECIALLY PISSED OFF TALKING TO DAGNA WHERE SHE FUCKING SEEMED TO FORGET NELLIE WAS *ALSO* A DWARF HALF THE FUCKING TIME.

AND THEN OTHER TIMES THE GAME WAS RANDOMLY REALLY GOOD IN THAT REGARD. IT WAS HIT AND MISS. ERIDAN DID AN ELF PLAYTHROUGH THAT I SAT IN ON AND I REMEMBER HOW COOL IT WAS BEING ABLE TO INTERACT WITH THE DALISH CLAN IN THAT INSIDER KIND OF WAY. BUT IT’S TRUE THAT PRETTY MUCH NONE OF THE ROMANTIC INTERESTS GIVE YOUR RACE MORE THAN *ONE* PASSING MENTION. CULLEN’S ROMANCE WITH A MAGE PLAYS WAY MORE HEAVILY INTO THINGS THAN SAY THE FACT THAT MALE LAVELLAN CAN DATE A GODDAMN *TEVINTER* ALTUS AND THE SLAVE THING IS BROUGHT UP A GRAND TOTAL OF ONCE.

AND AS A SIDENOTE THE FACT THAT IF YOU CHOOSE THE NECROMANCER MAGE SPECIALIZATION, DORIAN-THE-GOD-DAMN-NECROMANCER HAS FUCK ALL TO SAY ABOUT IT. EVEN IF YOU ROMANCE HIM. WHICH AMPORA DID. AND HE WAS PISSED.

SPEAKING OF AMPORA, HE ACTUALLY DID ROLL A HUMAN AT FIRST, BUT FIVE MINUTES IN HE WAS SO BORED WITH HIS CHARACTER HE ALMOST GAVE UP THE GAME FOR GOOD. SO YEAH. I FEEL YOU THERE.

BUT YEAH. THE SUGAR COATING ON THE CONFECTIONERY ITEM IS DEFINITELY THE FACT THAT THE GAME HINGES ON BASICALLY SOLAS DESTROYING DALISH LEGITIMACY. AND AS A DALISH INQUISITOR IT’S LIKE. OH. OK. SURE. MY LIFE WAS A LIE. NO BIG DEAL. NOW WHO’S READY FOR A VACATION IN TEVINTER BECAUSE BOY HOWDY ME AND MY QUNARI FRIEND ARE DOWN FOR SOME FIRST CLASS NORTHERN HOSPITALITY.

AS MUCH AS I CAN COMPLAIN ABOUT A LOT OF IT I LOVE IT SO MUCH. I NEVER PLAYED THE PREVIOUS GAMES BUT I ABSORBED THE DRAGON AGE WIKI AND I THINK I HAVE A PRETTY GOOD UNDERSTANDING OF WHAT WENT DOWN. I HAVE DA:O AND I DO PLAN ON PLAYING IT SOME TIME.

THE SADDEST PART IS THAT IT SEEMS PRETTY CERTAIN THAT THE SERIES IS PERMA-DEAD. AND I ACTUALLY WAS REALLY LOOKING FORWARD TO WHERE THEY SEEMED TO BE TAKING IT. IT’S A FUCKING SHAME.

#DA:I #DRAGON AGE #KARKAT VANTAS #INQUISITION #saccharineomens

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