#Adhlea Lavellan

[sagecielle]

we are SO back

[shivunin]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you for the tags @pinayelf @inquisimer and @greypetrel! Most of what I'm working on is secret for the moment, but I have been playing with this little piece c: Tagging back @ndostairlyrium @daggerbean @vakarians-babe @ruthvelyan @dungeons-and-dragon-age @idolsgf @nightwardenminthara @bitchesofostwick @zenstrike @star--nymph and @transprincecaspian, no pressure!

From a piece about Adhlea (Cullen and Emma's daughter) and Leander (Fenris and Maria's eldest):

Adhlea was almost certain she was being punished for something. 

She wasn’t sure what—she’d been very good ever since she’d finally gotten a little sister—but these stiff clothes and pinchy shoes could only mean she was being punished. It really didn’t make any sense at all. She’d told her mamae as much before they’d left the house and her mother had laughed. 

“It is a tradition, ma vherain. This is important to your Papa, so you must do your very best to sit still and pay attention. Here—if you have any questions, you may write them down in this little notebook and save them for later. I think it is rude to talk during services. Ah—here is your papa now. ” 

Well, Adhlea could feel the notebook knock against her leg while she kicked her heels in the foyer of the lady Hawke’s manor now, but she had no interest at all in writing anything down. 

“But why will we have to be sitting for the whole time?” she asked, peering up at her Papa. He tugged at the cuffs of his shirt, eyes tilted up at the corners, and opened his mouth to answer. 

“Because the Mother gets to be taller than everyone else,” a small voice piped from the doorway, and Adhlea grimaced.

“Ta said so,” Leander went on, sauntering into the room with his nose in the air. “He said it’s a sign of respect. And respect means we got to sit down.” 

“Hello, Leander,” Adhlea said begrudgingly, summoning something like a smile. She was trying. Hard. She was.

“Also,” Leander went on grandly, as if she hadn’t spoken at all, “there is going to be smoke. On purpose.”

“I know that,” Adhlea said, the smile crawling away from her face. She couldn’t help it; her mamae and papa wanted the two of them to be friends so badly that they didn’t seem to notice how hard Leander always worked to irritate her. 

“Well then, where does it come from?” he asked, his eyebrows squinching up in that way she hated. Always asking her questions he knew she didn’t have the answers for—always! 

“It is time to go,” the boy’s father said, appearing in the doorway with little warning. Adhlea took a step back, feeling the warmth of her father’s hand at her shoulder. 

“Messere Hawke,” Papa said, squeezing her slightly before bowing. “Where is the Ch–ah—is your wife not planning on joining us?”

“Hawke needs to rest,” the shorter man said gravely.

While his attention was focused on her father, Adhlea took the opportunity to peer up and up at him. Leander’s father was brown like her mamae and marked all over like her mamae, but Adhlea had been expressly forbidden to ask about the blue lines the way she asked about her mamae's vallaslin. It is private, her mamae had said, and Adhlea knew what private meant, she did, only they were very interesting lines and once she swore she had seen them light up and she really did want to know what they were and—

“Young Lavellan,” the man said gravely. Adhlea ducked her head at once, squirming in her shoes. Her papa nudged her gently and she remembered herself. 

Manners, he had told her often, always matter. 

“Good morning, Messere,” she said, executing a neat bow of her own. “Thank you for coming with us to the Chantry.”

Silence. 

Leander scuffed his bare foot on the tile floor and Adhlea grimaced again. It was unfair that he never had to wear shoes and she did—yet another thing Leander could hold over her head. Ugh. And now she would probably have to sit with him for the whole service. Who knew how long that could be? Years, probably, and her stomach was already gurgling. She should have tried to eat more of her breakfast, but it had seemed too hard. 

“Yes,” the man said at last, “of course. Well?” 

“Let’s go!” Leander said, and barreled past her for the door. 

Adhlea realized with no small amount of satisfaction that he had to stand on his toes to reach the handle properly. She was taller than him, at least; she would have to make certain he knew it as soon as possible.

[ashalle-art]

Got super excited about last night's announcement and cleaned up a rough sketch I had started before ♡

[spicywarl0ck]

See you later

Just a small thing I wrote to match @ashalle-art​​ ‘s beautiful sketch, because it inspired me <3 I got the permission to upload the art with the text attached <3

Her skin still glistened with the light film of sweat that built up during their actions. Blonde hair fell messily over her shoulder after she slipped into her tunic again, a lovely hue of red on her cheeks.

The word beautiful was not enough to describe how she looked right now, highlighted by the soft and warm light of the torches lighting up the Rotunda.

He had just dressed back into his tunic, his skin still prickling in remembrance of the intimate moment they’d shared just minutes ago. It had been a shared moment of bliss, her body so warm and soft underneath exploring fingers and lips.

Solas had enjoyed every tremble running through her, every hitch of breath escaping her soft lips as she writhed in his arms. There was nothing he would have wanted more than to just embrace her for a little longer, to feel the hands that caressed over his shaved scalp so carefully.

And yet, he knew that duty called them back and that there could not be more than a few stolen moments.

“I… should go and check in with the advisors….” Adhlea combed through her hair awkwardly after putting on her leg wrappings again, only the skin of her thighs exposed. Skin that was so incredibly soft to the touch.

“They might have received another report from Leliana’s scouts,” she added, brown eyes slowly moving from the ground to look at him. He watched as the flush on her cheeks deepened, causing his lips to twitch into a half-smile.

“Indeed,” Solas answered, hands clasped behind his back. “I shall go back to the translations I was reading through then. There is still much to do,” he added while holding her gaze. There was a flicker in her eyes, lips twitching as if she meant to say something but chose against it.

“Alright.” Adhlea nodded as she turned away, throwing him a last shy glance over her shoulder. “I’ll come by later?” she asked hopefully, only to briefly continue: “That is… if you aren’t too busy with your tasks at hand. I know that you are….”

Her words were cut off when he closed in to claim her lips passionately.

One of his hands touched her neck gently while the other snaked around to hold the back of her head, fingers brushing through blonde locks. Her neck craned up to meet his lips better, a soft breath getting lost between their lips as her slender hand stretched over the fabric of his tunic. 

It felt perfect in every way, heated and soft at the same time as they just took another moment for themselves.

Their breaths were ragged when they broke apart, her cheeks and tip of her ears a lovely pinkish hue as he released her slowly. 

“I’ll come by your quarters later, Vhenan,” he spoke up after a moment, a roguish smile on his lips that made her flush even more.

“A… alright.” she stuttered, the tiniest hint of a smile playing on the corner of her lips. “I’ll see you later then,” Adhlea added with a soft breath before turning around.

And for a moment, he just stood behind his desk, watching her depart like the love-struck fool he was.

[scharoux]

My little sweet pea, Adhlea Lavellan.

[varric-tethras-editor]

MEET ADHLEA LAVELLAN

THE BASICS:

Character’s name:

Adhlea Lavellan

Role in story:

Inquisitor

Physical description:

5'5 and 145lbs

Age:

27

MBTI/Enneagram Personality Type:

Logistician - ISTJ

--

LET'S ALL WELCOME ADHLEA TO MY OFFICIAL OC FAMILY 💖

Tags below the cut for all my fav DA online family. Think of this as your birth announcement email LOL

@kantrips @ellenembee @little-lightning-lavellan @fernaee @dreadfutures @emerald-amidst-gold @oxygenforthewicked @dungeons-and-dragon-age @blueheaded @the-dreadful-canine

@a-shakespearean-in-paris @cciarants @cartadwarfwithaheartofgold AND IF I FORGOT TO TAG YOU I STILL LOVE YOU SO MUCH I PROMISE

[heraldofthenug]

Here Lies The Abyss.

[empresstress13]

Art of my Adhlea Lavellan by the amazing and talented @hansaera !

[cousinslavellan-archive]

Welp people seem to like my newest Salad child so have some shots from running around in The Grove ♥ LOVE the Grove at night, and Addy lights up so beautifully in the dark ♥

[sylveonne]

For DWC, Welcome :). Prompt: “Did you see that? No?”

i had fun with this oneeee (also forgot to post it when i wrote it, woohoo /sarcasm)

it’s in my time travel ‘verse so it probably won’t make a ton of sense out of context BUT. that’s okay.

for @dadrunkwriting!

Dorian froze. There had been a brief flicker in the air— like a rift opening almost, but not quite, something of a warmer tone outlining something clear and light— and his barrier flared to life without any conscious thought. It caught Adhlea and shrouded her in his protection, but she just turned and stared at him, her brows drawing together and her head tilting. He let out the breath he had been inadvertently holding and met her gaze. “Did you see that?” he asked, his voice frayed at the edges like his nerves, but Adhlea shook her head in the negative. “No?” Dorian felt the mild hysteria creeping up his throat and threatening to suffocate him. It kept happening and he was the only one who noticed.

These...glimpses of things had started innocuously enough; he originally had thought he was catching glimpses of where the Veil was thinning, pre-rifts or just weak spots. This was mildly alarming, of course, as the thought of demons in Skyhold was something considered impossible, what with Fade experts and a professional rift-closer present, plus the ancient magic sewn between each brick. As they grew in frequency, they began to last longer. Originally, the briefest of lights had begun to flash out of the corner of his eye, but eventually he could actually look at these spots when they sprouted midair. No one else saw them. Perhaps he was the only one who could.

The most recent ones made his skin crawl. There was magic emanating from these spots. It was almost familiar. Almost. It tickled the back of his mind, just out of reach, until suddenly the panic shut everything else out and his focus sharpened.

Time magic.

Of course.

The golden tint, the ethereal appearance, glimpses into another time and place. His magic, but...warped. Tinted. Something else, someone else, clung to what was definitely his spells and incantations. The delicate structure was as familiar as the books he had studied night after night, month after month, hypothesizing and theorizing and eventually beginning cautious experiments. There couldn’t be another Alexius situation. He wouldn’t allow it. No more red lyrium futures where the world had practically ended.

So who was on the other side? Someone must have entered their base. Someone who was both a mage and someone with the ability to comprehend and put into practice the wildly arranged research. They only coded a few things and had used a simple cipher that was mostly used in the Adhlea’s inner circle of teammates and advisors, just in case someone came looking for them. So the options were Vivienne, or…

Dorian coughed a little and glanced around furiously. That bastard was trying to crack through. They had only verbally discussed their plans on what they would be searching for, so there was no way he could truly know what their goals were, but he was watching. If Solas continued at his current rate of growth in aptitude for time magic, he would be able to contact them within a matter of days. Even if he hit a wall, Solas would press harder and use his own magic to manipulate the guidelines Dorian had so courteously left out for him.

“Fasta vass,” he cursed under his breath. He dragged a hand over his face and closed his eyes, the lines of his body tense. The air around him was heating, he could tell, but his anger at Solas for daring to interfere and the helplessness he felt about not being able to stop him was drowning him. Adhlea was watching and hovering, clearly concerned about him and wanting to help, but he couldn’t tell her. She was having enough problems with just this Solas, this underpowered, weakened, cautious version that predated the one who currently was practicing voyeurism. He had to do something, but Maker help him, what could he possibly do in this situation?

The filmy light painted a spot in the air again, just slightly above them, and Dorian glared into it with all the force he could muster. “Leave us,” he growled, tone dark and dripping with malice. Adhlea gazed up at where he was focusing, clearly confused, but Dorian wrapped an arm around her waist, spun her around, and exited Skyhold’s garden where they had been lingering. So long as he lived, he would never allow Solas to hurt her again.

The light blinked out of existence and he felt the magic recede. Good. Solas was new to time magic and the last thing they needed would be him shredding the fabric of space-time in addition to the Veil.

Adhlea threw one last confused glance over her shoulder and allowed herself to be shepherded into the main hall. For a moment, a familiar aura had touched her own. But it couldn’t have been him...could it?

[rpgsandstuff]

Survivor

I wrote another thing, finally! Takes place immediately after the destruction of Haven, while lost in the tunnels/blizzard. Most of it will be under the cut. I'm also having trouble getting it to format the way I wanted it, I blame my tablet.

Adhlea finally regained consciousness and slowly took stock. She must have fallen into an opening leading into tunnels running under Haven. She breathed a word of thanks to the Creators for her luck. She slowly started trying to figure out how injured she was. The elf figured she had bruised or, probably, cracked a rib or two based on how badly it hurt to breathe. Gently probing fingers found a pretty good sized bump on her head as well. The other bumps and bruises seemed unimportant in light of the head and chest injuries. Adhlea slowly got to her feet, one arm held close to her body. There was a brief flash of panic as she reached for her staff, then a soft sigh when she found that, though it had a small crack in the wood, it still responded to her magic. She looked around, then slowly started heading in what appeared to be the only way forward.

It felt like she'd been walking for ages, when she saw that the tunnel seemed to open up. Adhlea walked a bit faster until she heard the telltale sounds of despair demons. The mage tried to control her breathing as she prepared to fight. Then she felt an odd sensation in her left hand, in what Corypheus had called the Anchor. It wasn't unlike the way it felt when she closed rifts. She held out her hand, and reached out with the magic she used on the rifts, and surprisingly in just moments the demons were gone. She stared at her hand, panting shallowly, and decided she would need to consult with Solas, Dorian, and Vivienne about this development. If you survive, she heard in the back of her head. Adhlea shook her head and continued walking. She could hear wind blowing, and figured she was close to an exit from the tunnels.

A blizzard. Of course she found herself trudging alone though a blizzard, injured. The wind and driving snow in addition to the injuries she'd sustained from her fall and the avalanche meant it was slow going for her. Her head was starting to ache and breathing felt like there was fire in her lungs. Adhlea knew she would need to stop and rest soon, but where? There wasn't any shelter to be had, and out in the open in this storm, she'd quickly freeze to death. As she continued on, she wracked her brain. There had to be something she could do. A few more steps, and she was so exhausted she found herself sitting before she realized it. As the snow fluffed up around her, it was like a door unlocked in her mind. She had read that light, fluffy snow trapped air and could provide insulation. She found a snow drift nearby and carefully dug into the side away from the wind, pulled some of the loose snow near her, then huddled up and gave in to sleep.

The snow and wind had finally let up, but slogging through the deep snow seemed harder in some ways. She wasn't sure how long she'd been looking for the others. Adhlea had stopped two more times to sleep. The last time she was awake, she had found the cold remnants of a fire, so she guessed she was going the right way. The time alone seemed to wake a darkness in her mind. The mage found herself wondering if she would die here, alone in the mountains and the snow. She also wondered what would happen to the Inquisition without her. They don't care if you die. The doubtful voice sounded in her head again.

"That's not true. Varric, Cassandra, Dorian, Sera, even Solas and Vivienne would care if I die." Now she was talking to herself, wonderful.

You closed the Breach, they don't need you now. "But we need to do something about Corypheus and that dragon."

But they can do that without you. Why would they want a knife-ear as the Herald of Andraste? They'll replace you, and soon you'll only be a footnote. Adhlea Lavellan sealed the Breach and died in the avalanche that buried Haven. In time, you'll be forgotten.

She was struggling in the deeper snow, occasionally needing to rock back and forth to get moving again. She paused briefly, considering what her doubts were telling her. She remembered the moment in the Chantry, when she had volunteered to set off the avalanche. Then she remembered the look of grief on Commander Cullen's face. His words. "Perhaps you will surprise it, find a way." The pang in her heart that accompanied the memory spurred her on. "Enough. If they aren't already looking to see if I survived, they will be as soon as they can."

A short time later, she found another fire. This one, however, still contained warm embers. She knelt there for a moment, holding her numb fingers as close to the tiny amount of heat as she could. They must be nearby, this fire couldn't be that old. Adhlea forced herself to stand, wobbling a bit before pressing on. A dozen agonizing steps forward, and she saw a glow below her. A camp. She found them! She dropped to her knees as she heard first Cullen, then Cassandra. "There! It's her!" "Thank the Maker!" Then her world went black again.

[sagecielle]

Like SO BACK

[shivunin]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @greypetrel and @palipunk (on the other blog); thank you both!

*Gonna say in advance that I am still getting straight who all writes fic and/or does art, especially if I follow both of your personal and fan blogs, so if I sometimes tag you and sometimes don't just lmk if you do/don't want to be in on these things and I will do my best to oblige! I know people are busy/life is a pain in the ass lately and I don't want anyone to feel pressured or stressed or left out over it

I've been working on my Morrigan scarf, pictured below (hand for scale) and am getting close to finishing the main body of it. I'm really excited for some of the finishing touches, which will hopefully include fringe-like elements along the bottom edge. If they work out right, they'll look similar to feathers (fingers crossed), but if not they'll be irregularly-sized pieces that more closely resemble her skirt. We'll see c:

And here's a bit of writing from an unfinished chapter of Book of Memories; I've been fiddling with the beginning on and off for months, but I would really like to post it sometime in the next few weeks. (CW for fantasy racism and blood/injury):

He could have sworn he'd only taken his eyes off the children for a moment—hardly any time at all for them to get into any trouble—but just then, Leander ran up, his fine tunic torn at one shoulder, his cheek bloodied, and he was panting. 

“What’s happened?” Fenris asked, his body shifting slightly in a way that Cullen immediately recognized. 

Neither of them were sufficiently armed, but Cullen reached for the support of a sword hilt anyway, his hand falling to his belt knife instead. Fenris crouched, bringing his face level with the boy’s, and Leander pointed toward a crowd forming near the small side garden. 

“Adhlea,” he panted, and that was enough—Cullen was already running. He didn’t bother to make sure the Hawkes were following. His daughter needed him, was in danger perhaps—nothing could slow him now. 

Adhlea was, in fact, in the center of the crowd. He could hear her piping voice even before he managed to shove through the crowd of bodies. 

“You take it back, you—you Blight of a boy!” she was yelling, accompanied by a yelp that was not hers. “Or say that to my face, coward!” 

Cullen went on elbowing his way through the huddle of people, his mind racing: Why hadn’t someone pulled her away from whatever was happening? What could possibly have made her this angry? The undercurrent of this all, the fear that made the rest of it unbearable, was this: 

She is a new mage. If she hurts someone with magic in front of all these people, what can I do to keep her safe?

“Mongrel,” a garbled voice said. “You and that other—oomph!” 

There was a dull sound, flesh striking flesh, and Cullen made his way to the front at last. There was a reason nobody had interrupted her: somehow, Adhlea had called up a barrier, and the bubble of it stood between them and the observers. She seemed well enough—though blood was dripping from her chin—and the boy she was pummeling seemed to be in one piece, for all that she had him pinned. 

Maker preserve him. Maker preserve them all. 

“Adhlea Rose,” Cullen bellowed, and more than one of the surrounding observers took a step back. “You stop that this instant.” 

His daughter didn’t seem to hear him at all; she raised a bloody fist and aimed for the boy’s cheek. Fenris was faster; in a moment, he’d reached through the barrier with one hand, the tattoos that marked the backs of his hands and arms lighting up all at once. He pulled her, squirming, from the barrier by the back of her nice Chantry dress. 

Some other time, Cullen might have found this funny; she looked rather like a kitten picked up by a rather annoyed cat. In the moment, he only felt fear. 

“Adhlea,” he said sharply, and she stopped fighting. The barrier had popped soundlessly as soon as she’d left it. The boy was summarily scooped up by an older woman—presumably a caretaker—and tugged back from their little quartet. 

“What happened?” Cullen demanded, crouching to examine her carefully. 

One of her teeth had been knocked loose, leaving an empty space on the upper row of her mouth. Her hands were both bloody about the knuckles, and her lip was already swelling. The redness around her eye would almost certainly be a black eye soon enough, and if the laundress could get the blood out of the gown it would be a miracle. 

“He said I was trash,” Leander said unexpectedly, though his green eyes were fixed on Adhlea, “I thought it was stupid. I can’t be trash, because trash is a thing and I’m not a thing. But he said he could prove it and—”

“He was going to shove Leander into the trash can!” Adhlea said, shaking with indignation, tears spilling from her injured eye, “I couldn’t let him—it’s not fair! We didn’t do anything to him!”

Tagging: @ndostairlyrium @daggerbean @layalu (unless you prefer the other blog?) @idolsgf @brother-genitivi

[ashalle-art]

"Healing touch"

I once more forgot to post for WIP Wednesday, but have a random work in progress of a Solavellan sketch I did for Solas and Adhlea ♡

Watch a tiny timelapse on Twitter:3

[findsarahh]

For DWC: “Have I entered an alternate universe or did you really just crack a smile for me?” Any characters.

Thank you for the prompt!

@dadrunkwriting

Lavellan x Cullen

Adhlea is glaring up at theceiling when Cullen enters her quarters. They had successfully saved theEmpress, but that still wasn’t enoughfor the Orlesian’s. Even as she left she heard their whispered name-callingabout her because she is an elf.

“How are you, my dear?” Cullenasks as he lays next to her. He leans over and kisses her on the cheek. Adhlealeans into his kiss, but is still frowning at the ceiling.

“I’m fine,” She lies. Adhleadoes not understand why she is letting the slurs hurt her. She doesn’tunderstand why her being an elfmatters.

Cullen heard the whispers aswell. They weren’t exactly delicate in hiding their relationship. TheInquisitor and her Commander…rumors would spread. Cullen does not care thatAdhlea is an elf. The feelings he has for her are beyond her race. He justwishes he could protect her from those who look at her and all they see is thatshe is an elf.

Cullen takes her hand intohis as he begins telling her a story about a certain recruit who attempted tobest the Iron Bull during practice.

Adhlea cracks a small smileat his description of the encounter.

Cullen brings her hand tohis lips, kissing the top of her hand as he whispers, “Have I entered analternate universe or did you really just crack a smile for me?”

Adhlea attempts to frown athis announcement, but it is forced and she snorts in protest. She does not wantto smile right now, but it is hard when Cullen is around.

[scharoux]

Speed paint of my OC, Adhlea 'Adi' Lavellan