#Falherna

[iawv]

[iawvreblogs]

Hey! 1,5,8,15,20 for the uncommon OC ask please! 😊

Hey Noire, thank you for asking :)

1. What’s the maximum amount of time your character can sit still with nothing to do?

While meditating Fal can sit still for hours but otherwise, I would say a few minutes :) She needs to keep her hands and mind busy.

5. How easy is it to earn their mistrust?

Considering she doesn't fully trust no one and she is a very private person I would say very easy :) Still, she will give a second chance in some specific situations.

8. What were they told to stop/start doing most often as a child?

To stop wondering around alone and stop asking questions all the time :) Her father often asked her to start thinking before she speaks :)

15. How do they speak? Is what they say usually thought of on the spot, or do they rehearse it in their mind first?

Most of the time she thinks before she speaks. I would not say she rehearse first but she always tries to consider the consequences of her words.

20. If they were asked to explain the difference between romantic and platonic or familial love, how would they do so?

She would say that romantic love is the feelings you have for a partner or spouse. Not only sexual but there is a sexual element to them and a physical intimacy that is not usually present in any other type of love. Platonic love does not have sexual feelings for her although she is aware that in some circles sexuality can be a very open subject and some people are comfortable having "friends with benefits" situations which can blur the line.

Familial love is very strong and protective for her. It is the type of love where the connection is different than people who are simply friends. Familial love allows you to be very relaxed and comfortable; she is more open with someone she feels familial love with because of a deep level of trust.

[dirthenera]

Falherna for @iawv!!!

Thank you for all the gorgeous screenshots! 💜

[plumrabbit]

Falherna Lavellan and baby Fen for @iawv Thank you again for the awesome screenshots!

[zhanna0717]

@iawv‘s Inquisitor Falherna and her wolf Fen. I used this as a reference for the wolf, and referenced a screenshot of Fal’s face.

Hope you like it, @iawv :) Sorry it took forever I kept getting frustrated with pieces and I’ve only drawn animals a couple times and I definitely struggled with Fen.

[iawv]

[iawv]

[iawv]

[iawv]

[iawv]

@aridoesart gifted me the most wonderful piece of art!!

We talked about Fal in Cole's armor and she did it!!! I am amazed by her talent! Thank you @arideya <3 Guys, go and commission her!!

[iawv]

[iawv]

[iawv]

She Called Him Fen'Harel Chapter 13 - "A letter"

Read on AO3

Huge thank you to @shanevre for all the help with editing <3 You've been so kind and patient with me <3

@dinrenan & @arideya - thank you for reading my writing. All of your opinions and suggestions are precious to me <3

@serphena Thank you for the perfect piece of art you gifted me :)

The ice on the frozen lake cracked and melted under her fingers - fire licked across the surface of the water warming it. A bath was her only desire - soothing and cleansing. Fen watched her from the wooden platform where he lay. The light wind ruffled the wolf’s fur and whipped her hair into her face. Her thin linen shirt offered no protection from the cold, but she did not care.

“Herald,” a voice harshly shook her from her work. Slowly, she turned and looked at the scout. Of course they would send someone to see if she was still here.

“Yes?” she asked with an indifferent look and a calm, stern tone.

“Seeker Pentaghast requests your presence in the war room,” the young man looked startled. From his perspective, she must have looked like a wild witch - messy hair, a dirty shirt, the spark of fire between her fingers, and the wolf at her side.

She felt the urge to growl at him, but instead she just nodded. “Yes, of course. Please inform Varric and Solas that their presence is required as well.”

The scout glanced at the spot where she was crouched, but only nodded and left. 

She sighed and lowered herself into a hole in the ice.

The frigid water was good, it was comforting.

She shivered. The water rolled over and through her like a cold, gentle hand. She lifted her head, gasped for air, and smiled.

Falherna and her advisors stood over a map rolled out over the war table. Cassandra had brought them together to plan for their journey to address the Chantry in Val Royeaux. Falherna arrived as quickly as she could, hair still dripping from her bath in the lake.

Cullen’s presence loomed next to her, and a drop of water from her damp hair fell softly on his hand. She watched him out of the corner of her eye and winced slightly. His finger twitched, thumb trembling as if he was trying to imagine what that strand of her hair would feel like.

She took a moment to straighten and then slowly brushed her hair over her shoulder.

She looked down at the map again, letting her eyes slide over the supply lines and outposts circling the war table. It was a simple tactic to distance herself from the Commander. She did not need a map to know the way to Val Royeaux.

“It will take us six days just to make the trip, even on horseback,” she muttered as she reached for a cup of water that was sitting on the tray beside her and took a sip.

“Shit,” Varric cursed from his place on a bench. He polished his crossbow as he watched her. Solas sat beside him, silent but engaged.

“I’ll find you a pony, Tethras,” she smiled, giving Varric a knowing look.

The corners of his mouth twitched in response. He really did not like horses.

“The four of you can leave at daybreak tomorrow. The horses will be ready,” Leliana said slowly.

“Good.” Falherna nodded, glad the meeting was over.

The last hour had drained her.

Still, she was curious about the letter Leliana had mentioned. It was sitting on the war table throughout their meeting. Fal dismissed the idea of grabbing it and running outside to read it.

“Any objections?” Leliana asked, as if she could read Falherna’s train of thought - the desire to rest, to be alone with Fen and read that damned letter.

The room was silent, the breath of all present held as Leliana made pointed eye contact with each of them.

They waited. The Seeker shifted, “None.”

“Thank you, Seeker,” Fal nodded, ending the meeting with a shake of her head.

As her advisors began to leave the room, she drank what was left in her cup. Varric collected Bianca and made his way to the door as well, she was left with just Solas and Leliana. 

“This arrived for you today,” she offered the letter to her.

Fal accepted the letter with a nod of her head and a simple, “Thank you.”

She wanted nothing more than to know the contents of the letter now, but concluded it would be better to read it when she was alone. She didn’t know what sort of news it may contain.

The spymaster smiled at her before slowly making her way to the door, “I will leave you alone.”

Fal nodded and her fingers traced lightly over the writing on the front of the letter, but she was still aware of Solas’ presence in the room with her.

Solas silently watched the Herald as she leaned against the war table, her legs outstretched in front of her. She looked down at the letter in her hands, but he couldn’t tell what she felt about it. She seemed so composed and unmoved, giving no sign of her thoughts.

He shifted slightly on the wooden bench and waited.

“It’s spreading.” She folded the letter and hid it in her pocket. Her voice was clear, her gaze fixed on the moonlight outside the window. “The scar seems bigger. My skin feels thinner, like parchment.”

Solas could not see her face overshadowed by her hair, but he assumed the situation must have been terrifying.

“Examine it,” she asked, holding out her hand to him. “My magic does nothing to it.”

His pulse quickened as he stood. He wasn’t sure which was more exciting; examining the mark, or the possibility of gaining access to the Herald’s thoughts again. He approached her slowly and watched her face for a moment, the play of shadows and moonlight on her features, so young yet so strong that she seemed as stern as steel.

She clenched her marked hand into a fist, and he forced himself to suppress the desire to tell her to hold it open.

His magic tempted him, almost singing in his ear.

If he dared and had the strength, he’d reclaim it now. But he couldn’t.

Bitterness tore at him.

The Herald’s gaze caught him staring at her. Her face shone bright and piercing, and he swallowed a pang of embarrassment.

“Of course,” he said, keeping his expression calm and detached.

He reached for her still outstretched hand, and she slowly placed it in his palm. Her skin was ice cold, and he gave her a quick glance, but her gaze was trained on the mark.

He dared to wonder if it would give him access to the Herald’s feelings once more. He should have told her the truth, but he was curious. The ability intrigued him, but more importantly, it could give him an advantage. He had to get her to trust him.

“It could cause you pain,” he warned her.

“It hurts every time. It will always hurt,” she replied softly, her eyes absently fixed on the moon outside the window.

He frowned but said nothing, running his fingers over the scar on her palm, his gaze fixed on the pulsing green light.

He sent a gentle flow of healing magic into her palm.

The mark stirred, flickering as if drawn by an energy that felt familiar. She hissed softly and forced her tense breath through her teeth.

Her aura sparkled at him, pleasantly sharp and deep.

Solas was about to say something when the air around him shifted.

A feeling of pressure coursed through him. Something was building inside of him, yearning for release. It tasted like metal and rust on his tongue. He swallowed and licked his lips.

The air felt muggy, too hot and too bright to bear. 

Suddenly, relief flooded through him and he released her hand.

Her voice rang softly through the empty room. “Thank you. I tried the same spell but it did nothing. I suppose if I cast it on myself, it may have a different effect.”

He heard her moving and glanced at her. She was standing in front of the window, her back straight, almost relaxed.

“That’s possible,” he murmured as he gathered his staff, not looking at her. He needed to think and do more research.

“I thank you for your help, Solas.”

Good manners demanded that he give her an answer. He paused for a moment to compose himself. He looked up at her with his face contorted into a stern, uncaring mask.

He bowed and said, “It was nothing.”

She turned slowly, her gaze implacable, with her hands clasped behind her back. 

Suddenly, he became aware of her: tall, cold, beautiful, and concealing a power he felt nonetheless. She stood as still as a stone, as if she was waiting for something.

Was she?

Solas bit the inside of his cheek to suppress any unwise words. It would be too easy to say too much.

A knock on the door broke the tension.

“I’ll let you get back to your duties, Solas.”

Light-footedly, the Herald walked past him and opened the door to the war room. She greeted the servant with a tray that had likely been sent by the Ambassador.

She paid no more attention to Solas.

It was as if he’d disappeared.

Later that night, she followed the winding road down to Haven’s gate, exhilarated by the cold air whipping across her face. She grabbed firewood stored outside the Taigen's cabin and stepped inside.

"Dian, Fen" she murmured and patted the animal. He tried to playfully nibble her.

She arranged firewood next to the fireplace and sat on the floor. Fen nuzzled into her side as she returned. Her eager hands pulled out the letter, unfolding it to reveal familiar handwriting:

I am not surprised that you are still alive, boss.

The news is that the Shems have captured you. 

I would like to see that.

I FOUND IT.

I will be in Val Royeaux in seven days.

Meet me there.

- Faron

Falherna read it quickly, then read it again. Her heart pounded as she stared at the rough writing scratched into the damp, thick paper. It couldn’t be…

After a dozen years of searching, there was one precious object that had slipped through her fingers again and again. 

She scanned the letter once more, and her eyes locked onto three words.

I FOUND IT.

*dian - stop

[iawv]

Tenderness

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