#dread Wolf

[julesarago]

Its finally the day I get to post this!!

I made this illustrated banner for IGN's new piece on lore and choices in Dragon Age and I'm beyond happy with how it turned out. We had a part of a quote from Epler about how Solas was a mirror to Rook and so we took that idea and ran with it for all the illustrations in this article.

Never thought I'd be out here making cunty little Solas art, but I'm once again proven a fool... and it rips too.

[larkoneironaut]

Wake up, it’s their favorite season 🍂

[jadeinretrogrde]

current location be like

[pocket-solas]

Elven god of lies trickery and deceit? More like Elven god of the smolder and plush lips. -Lavellan, probably

[incorrectdaquotes]

Solas: There's an exposed Fade Rift above the bathtub as well. Inquisitor: Oh yeah, Shock Rift! I call it that because if you take a shower, and you touch the Rift, you die! Solas: Yes. That is accurate.

[bloedewir]

apparently I completely forgot I made my dream guardian in bg3 look like "young, hot-blooded and cocky" Dread Wolf so

i was kinda not ready

[lagu-z]

feeding the feed

[plasticfreckles]

🌙 solavellan cohabitation enjoy 🌙

It is a long-known, well-tread path he takes. Rising from his slumber, making his own bath in the chamber (filling the tub with ice, melting it, then heating the water to just below evaporation because that takes less time and effort than getting servants do it for him), getting dressed, meditation and stretches, then walking down to the kitchens for a small breakfast to hurriedly eat in his rotunda before returning to his frescos.

It pains him that the stonemason doesn't know that once, ages before, his art covered every crevice in every wall in this place.

What's new on the path is that now, there is somebody else on this journey, changing it ever so slightly every time he wakes.

That now, the mattress is heavy with the imprint of another body; one who shares in his space willingly, enthusiastically. One that even if they sleep turned away from each other, will still hook a long-toed foot around his shin and pull him ever so slightly closer. One that makes sure the fire is bright and his feet warm before laying down next to him.

One that somehow, miraculously, does not invite Desire to his dreams, no matter what unseemly things he dreams of doing with it.

Lavellan sleeps less than he does; he often wakes to see her in her nightclothes, poking at the fire in the hearth before opening the balcony doors and fetching some water from her carafe to soak the soil of her plants. For someone who so easily complains of feeling cold, she has little problem going out in the winter, barefoot and sleeveless.

She has grown her own little forest in their chambers, since coming here; tangy herbs on the west balcony, bountiful hanging vines and tall ferns to keep away the eyes of the people below where they meditate and stretch away the nights aches (among.. more carnal activities, Solas admits).

The bigger of the two, the north balcony, where they sit to eat and read and talk, she decorated with plants from all over the continent and crystals alike. Sometimes he thinks his old magic is the only thing keeping the ground from failing underneath the weight of it all.

When they sit at their little table there, legs of castiron, top of stained glass, and she frowns at him over the pages in her hands, he's never felt more at home here.

A small, vile part inside of him despises her for it, that this enormous, loreful castle, his castle, needed a marred, unknowing woman for him to feel at home in it.

The bigger, gentler part inside of him, however, chants praises in a tongue long lost to time when she laughs at his comments to what she just read; never in mockery, always in soft, loving tones that end up agreeing with him.

She always apologizes for waking him, vowing to fix the creaking door hinges to their dressing room.

"Don't apologize. Being awake with you beats anything I could ever hope to find in the Fade." It makes her blush so deep it rivals the red of her nightgown, every single time.

Today, though, she has a reply for him, as well.

"Even when I'm so feverish you may as well sit in a pond?" It makes him laugh.

"The mattress was not that damp," he says, as he moves to sit on the edge of their bed and pulls her down into his lap. "But yes, even then."

Whatever her feeling the morning at her hip may have brought them, it is taken from them swiftly with a runner and a stack of parchment. Lavellan sighs and stands, though not before kissing his eartip.

The runner can barely look away from her chest, still in her nightgown.

-

They part sooner than he would like. They always do. They hide in the cellar library for their meal, sitting among veilfire candles and tomes older than even him. Sometimes she barely suppresses a giggle at the people going right past the door, looking for her. The Inquisitor's work is never done. It amuses him to no end that even though they do this every day, everyone else seems to forget that door exists.

They never look for him. An interesting turn of events, to be all but invisible inside of his own home.

He cherishes these little moments, when she pulls him close by his shoulders and kisses him over the tray of their breakfast before opening the door, walking upstairs and finding those who searched her in the cellars by her memory of their voices alone with impressive accuracy.

If he asks her at night what all those people needed of her, she will remember little more than their names and how they made her feel. How some of them thought nothing of tugging her along by her arm, looking at her ears and forgetting who she is. They look at me and see a knife-ear to see their will done. They forget I could open up a rift under their feet and disappear them in the Beyond.

She doesn't reply when he notes they might bank on her being too kind to harm then.

-

When she finds him at late at night, well through his fourth candle, still pondering his sketches and frescos in his rotunda, there's a promise of intimacy in her words, even though she carries the exhaustion under her eyes, in the stray hairs from her braids and the crisp smell of winter on her clothes.

"Night has long come, Solas. You've made enough art to last a lifetime, I think." A tug at his clothes, urging him to put down charcoal and parchment. "Wash off the paint, and I'll rub the tension from your shoulders. I brought some sweets up to our room."

He never realizes what sweets she speaks of until she mounts him under her lifted nightgown and presses his face to her breasts, bare from sliding the straps off her shoulders.

When he wakes the next morning, he decides, he will lure her back into the sheets after she opened the doors.

🌙

you can't tell me these two wouldn't smash all day every day if they could.

the fever saga continues ✨️

[kanis-things]

[fippydarkpaw]

Don't know how this romance will end, but history tells me in tears.

[autsdoodles]

In Another World.

Yeah, I landed in solavellan hell. I even made a playlist.

[rosieofcorona]

a god, once (WIP)

[vaporizedbard]

Soooo like, what if Solas & Varric get flung into the Fade after they interrupt the ritual & Varric tries playing "I Spy" like he did with Cassandra? Yes? No?

[jadeinretrogrde]

"the Inquisitor 'obviously has a very personal relationship with Solas,' one that will need to be reckoned with in The Veilguard."

my lavellan reckoning with him:

[pocket-solas]

I know this has been said before but the fact Solas is clad in wool and is literally a wolf in sheep's clothing makes my head hurt.

[secretmage]

The Din'anshiral | DeviantArt

"I walk the din’anshiral. There is only death on this journey."

Faux stained glass 'triptych' art of Solas' journey, inspired heavily by the frescoes, art, Veilguard gameplay trailer and of course Nick Thornborrow's amazing The Chant stained glass, as a sort of companion piece to my previous stained art Dragon Age: Trespasser a long time ago (WHERE I SAID I WOULDN'T DO A TRIPTYCH BUT LOOK WHERE WE ARE NOW??) this took me more than a week of sleepless nights so imma lie down now bye (Find the WIP Gif here!) edit: prints for anyone who wants them!