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blarfkey · 4 years

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director’s cut, director’s choice of ⭐️Dear Fen’Harel⭐️? (Though generally speaking, I’m intensely curious as to how you develop characters because everyone you write is so brilliantly layered)

So um, this exploded. And I apologize. I am very much a character-driven writer versus a plot-driver writer. Also, how I develop characters is not a process I think about, it just happens, so this is also me finding out for myself how my own brain works, haha. If you want the full fucking three page essay this turned into, there’s more under the cut.

If not, and I don’t blame you, TLDR: I break a canon character down to their parts based on what I see in-game, I look at how their personal quest affects them, and I try to find a modern day equivalent to that. Each character has an issue they need to get past and I create situations to challenge those issues. And Ellana was created to be a foil for Solas and I dumped all my negative traits into her because neither she nor I can afford therapy so this is our best bet.

First of all, developing characters in fanfic is different than OC characters because I have a pre-set personality to work with rather than making someone from scratch. So for this, Ellana’s development is different from the rest of the cast.

For fanfic characters, obviously I look at the source material and see how they’ve reacted to certain situations and what they have canonically expressed about themselves in both deed and word. Honestly, I pay more attention to what they have DONE versus what they have SAID because a lot of characters tend to fool themselves into thinking they’re one way when they’re not (here’s looking at you, Solas).

Because DF is a modern AU, I take what I have seen in Canon (which is a lot because Bioware is very good at giving so much material to work with having all those different dialogue trees) and I apply it to the Modern Day. Some characters fit very easily – Dorian was made for Academia. Krem seems a more modern character anyway with how he constantly roasts Iron Bull. Josephine’s prowess in DA:I translates very easily to political science. Varric kind of has a modern writer’s career anyway.

Some are not easy – Solas is actually super hard for me to write in DF than he is in Thick as Thieves because so much of his characterization, his world views, his prejudices, are rooted in the fact that he is an ancient being out of time – which is impossible to have in this AU. I have crafted a sort of back story for him that might explain some things later, but it’s flimsy at best, haha.

So I’ve had to really look at what Solas is like in Inquisition when he’s pretending to be a “normal” hedge mage hermit from nowhere and how he behaves in his romance and extract from that. Solas is a nerd, he’s socially awkward from self-imposed isolation, he constantly struggles with what he wants and what is the morally correct thing to do and the temptation to be loved usually wins out over his convictions until the last second when he gets his common sense back and ruins everything.

It helps that in both DA and DF Solas is keeping a massive, massive secret from the Inquisitor about his identity that will shift the power balance between the two, so I’ve used that to guide me when I’m unsure. He still feels off to me, but it’s whatever at this point, lol. I did my best.

Once I’ve boiled a character down to their usual traits, I figure out how I’m going to have them grow throughout the fic and use their growth to help Ellana’s growth. I try to pull from their personal quests as much as I can, when I can get it to fit.

Some people, like Iron Bull, are static because they’ve already gone through their journey and have reached acceptance. I didn’t really know how to work his Leaving the Qun story line in the modern day, since it is tied so closely with war and potentially killing the Chargers, so by the time Ellana meets him, he has already left the Qun and made his peace with it. I use his static nature to help guide Ellana when she’s conflicted about her identity.

Some people, like Josephine, have personal quests that don’t fit with a modern era but I want to show them grow anyway, so I create something else for them. Right now, Josephine is mired in family drama and trying to figure out how to balance shouldering the weight of her responsibilities to her family with being her own person. That I drew from my own personal experience with being the only sane person in my family with their shit together, haha.

Or Cassandra, who is definitely NOT going to be Divine here, lol. So instead she gets to struggle with her art and how she can express herself in a way that leaves her vulnerable to scrutiny and yet can be so freeing.

Some people, like Krem, get a character arc that I think should have been explored but never was. Krem being trans is something that’s mentioned and talked about a little and never explored. I mean, he’s not a main character, so I get it. And I liked that Being Trans wasn’t his entire character. But there was no way to put him in the modern AU without his trans identity impacting some of his story and growth, even if he had already made his peace with it.

Now, I will say this upfront: I am not trans, and I haven’t had the opportunity to be close friends with a trans person, but I have done a lot of research on what trans people have said about their own experiences, and combined this with other research I’ve done over the years with other minorities and tried to put together what could be lingering insecurities for him and how he could overcome them.

I’m definitely not saying that I’ve done this perfectly and I’m always open to any trans reader who would give me correction, but being trans was not an aspect of Krem’s character that I wanted to ignore just because I wasn’t familiar with it.

I will say that his romance with Josephine was Not Planned. It just kinda happened and I happily ran with it, haha.

Varric’s arc with Bianca is just wishful thinking because I hate her so so much and Bioware just dropped that bomb in Varric’s lap and then just lets him keep holding on to it and it’s bullshit.

The other character journeys are just ways to explore vulnerability in them that I didn’t think got enough attention in the game or I think they could realistically have even if it wasn’t in canon. Like Dorian dealing with his father. Now, in the game, Halward doesn’t have a disease and he dies unexpectedly. But I wanted Dorian to have a realistic reason why he would reach other to his estranged father in this AU and a ticking countdown to an inevitable death seemed right.

Now we get to see Dorian really struggle with this new-found connection with his father that he always wanted to have and now it’s temporary and heartbreak is inevitable and is it still worth it to him? I think Dorian has similar feelings in Trespasser when he found out his father was murdered because he still invested himself to rebuild a lost connection, only to lose it so soon after.

Zevran’s past with the Crows is also something that I really wanted to explore because in the game he is sad for a hot second and then moves on with the Warden and his newfound goal of destroying the entire Crow organization. So I wanted to see Zevran struggle with his inner worth, the fact that he can’t hide forever and his past puts his loved ones in danger, the fact that he can even HAVE loved ones and how it scares the shit out of him. I wanted to have a character who puts on such a good front about not giving a shit about anything to hide how very deeply afraid he is. We are going to see more of this also before the story is over, lol.

Now, Ellana. Like all original characters, Ellana has a lot my personal experiences tied in her. But I originally created Ellana to fill a need for a type of character that I wanted to see with Solas and don’t really get to. I mean, I have not scourged the corners of the internet to find it so I’m sure there are other characters like her, but I haven’t found very many.

I see a lot of very beautiful, very delicate and feminine, very kind and gentle Disney Princess kind of Lavellans. I see a LOT of them. And I don’t hate that necessarily. I mean, Josephine is all of those things and more and I adore her and I sort of crack ship her with Solas anyway, in the secret recesses of my heart. And I love seeing a female character who is the epitome of a “weak” female use those “weak” traits to succeed.

But I am also not very beautiful, I am NOT delicate at all, I’m not gentle. I am not anywhere close to a Disney Princess or a Josephine. And it was disheartening to see Solas romance all these Ocs that were nothing like me after a while because it kind of gave me the message that someone like Solas, a character that I admire and def have a fictional crush on, would never want someone who looks like me or acts like me. That even with unlimited freedom in creating a romantic counterpart for him, I saw so much of what society already reinforces as an ideal that I will never match up to. It doesn’t help that Bioware’s body diversity for elves ranges is nonexistent.

So I made Ellana for me. Not because I want to hate on other Ocs or prove that mine is superior, but so that I would have something that I connected to. And I wanted to explore a dynamic with Solas that I didn’t get to see very often.

So when I first imagined Ellana, I wanted her to be strong and tall and muscular and powerful in a way that makes a lot of unenlightened men uncomfortable. I wanted somebody used to manual labor and dirt and the outdoors and solving problems with their fists and just totally unrefined because I wanted her to be the complete opposite of Solas. (So like Cassandra but in elf form, haha).

I did not want her to be soft or conventionally attractive at all. Ellana doesn’t shun femininity, because I don’t think femininity is inherently wrong, but she is uncomfortable with it and she doesn’t indulge in it.

(Just FYI I am NOT built like Ellana at all either, haha. This is the wish fulfillment part of the OC. I greatly resemble the dwarves, which is why I love them so much.)

But I also needed her to have a reason to leave home, and to have some points of commonality with Solas, so I made her a nerd. A jocky nerd who is insatiably curious and stubbornly independent. And then because I wanted Ellana to feel like a real person instead just a wish fulfillment fantasy, I needed her to grow. So I gave her all my complicated anger issues, my bluntness, my struggles with homesickness, the way I compartmentalize negative events in my life so I don’t have to deal with them just so they can bite me in the ass later, my experiences of going from a lifestyle where all my needs were met and I was oblivious to how great I had it to living with serious poverty for the first time.

And then I devised situations with her life and the other characters where Ellana has to confront these issues and learn to accept them and either move past them or learn to control them. Sometime she gains wisdom and imparts it to people like Sera or Dorian when their struggles come up. And her biggest challenge has yet to arrive, so she’s still cooking, so to speak. Ellana still has a long way to go before she really reaches maturity.

As far as her relationship with Solas goes, I wanted her to challenge him and give him a total upheaval everything he thought he knew about his own culture and his own self. And I wanted him to do the same for her. And then when all the pieces are done falling, they have grown into two people who can handle being together.

So that’s basically it. If there is any character in particular you want to know more about or why I made certain decisions, always feel free to ask!

#asks #dear fenharel #my fic

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in-arlathan · 4 years

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Elenara Lavellan

Elven rogue and archer, specialized as Artificer

Hunter of Clan Lavellan, Inquisitor and Comtesse of Kirkwall

Finally, I managed to update Elenara’s profile and biography. Yay me! I wanted to do this for the longest time. The first iteration of her biography was rather short and I have developed her character since then a lot more through little posts here on Tumblr and fanfiction. I didn’t even know how many head-canons I had for Elenara until I started writing this. This made it so much more fun (and challenging).

I hope you enjoy reading this, although I know this a big reference post for myself for the most part. If you wanna know more about my Lavvelan, you’ll more posts about her via her tag.

____

PROFILE

Full name: Elenara Lavellan Race: Dalish elf Class: Rogue, archer Specialization: Artificer Nationality: Free Marches Religion: Elven gods

Biometrics

Age: 32 (in 9:41 Dragon) Eye color: Green Hair color: Blonde Height: 1,55 m / 5,1 feet Weight: 43 kg / 86 pounds Vallaslin: Dirthamen Scars: Two facial scars (left eye, left side of her jaw), one on the lower back (from an arrow), two on the abdomen (from stab wounds).

____

CHARACTER TRAITS

Positive: Empathetic, patient, and open-minded. Negative: Too trusting, tends to avoid confrontations, prone to procrastination

Motivation and goals

Elenara is driven by the desire to understand–be it politics, history or people. She always looks for the why and goes out of her way to see the world from other people’s perspective. Her goal is to create a world in which the people of Thedas can learn to co-exist peacefully.

Strengths and weakness

Due to her empathetic traits, she is a good mediator and knows how to broker a deal between different parties. She can make everyone feel valued and appreciated and thus build strong alliances between parties that would otherwise be at odds with each other. This strength is also the source of her greatest weakness. Her trustworthiness and forgiveness can be exploited by different people. Oftentimes, Elenara will not know that she has been betrayed until it’s too late.

Special abilities

She is a hunter first and foremost, skilled with the bow as much as a blade. As a young woman, she would learn how to mend old armor and sow new clothing. Her talent with a needle became useful when patching up injured hunters in the absence of a healer or medical professional. She is used to closing her own wounds, even if they will leave a scar.

Dreams and aspirations

As a young girl, she would dream about going to visit the Grand Tourney. As she became older, she aspired to attending a university to further her studies and be up-to-par with human scholars.

Best friends and confidants

With the Lavellan clan: Deshanna, Erendir and Almaril With the Inquisition: Varric, Dorian and Cassandra

Likes, dislikes and other preferences

Loves roasted chestnuts

Likes to sleep in open fields

Enjoys being alone in the woods,

Can spend hours on end daydreaming

Despises human shoes, but has a nack for make-up. Lipstick, especially.

Red is her favourite color

Nicknames

While the faithful called her “Herald of Andraste”, she never took much liking to the title. She prefered the nicknames given to her by relatives and friends like Nara (used by members of her clan), Aunt Ell (by the children of her friend Erendir), as well as Inky or Boss. After the Exalted Council, Varric would start to call her “Comtesse”⎯an ironic reference to the informal title she owned thanks to him.

→ You’ll find her biography (plus screenshots) behind the cut.

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BIOGRAPHY

Early years

Born in 9:09 Dragon as the daughter of the former First Hunter of the Lavellan clan, Elenara learned how to provide for herself and her kin at a very early age and became a fairly skilled archer. With a gift for crafts and needlework, she would often create new clothing or armor of her fellow hunters and help their healers tend to the wounded.

After the death of her father in 9:22 Dragon, she became fascinated with the lore and history of Thedas. More often than not, she would wander away from the camp to search for old ruins, until the keeper decided to provide Elenara with books to study instead. From then onward, the young hunter would craft new clothing to sell in the various cities in the Free Marches to pay for her education.

When coming of age, she decided to have the vallaslin of Dirthamen, keeper of secrets, tattooed to her face, as she felt drawn to the past of her people and the secrets it might hold. At the age of 31, she was knowledgeable about history, politics and the culture of various nations, which made her the perfect candidate when it was time for the keeper to choose a clan member to witness the conclave at Haven.

Although she deeply cared for her clan, only a few members ever got close to Elenara after her father’s death. Her aunt Irileth, her father’s younger sister, took care of her but became estranged from her niece when Elenara had grown into a woman. From then on, Elenara spent most of her time with Erendir, a young hunter only three years older than her. She admired his kindness and practicality while he was fascinated with her curiosity. For a time, they maintained in intimate relationship, until Erendir asked her to be his wife and have children with him.

Joining the Inquisition

When she was asked to attend the Divine’s conclave in Haven, she was eager to go, but uncertain how she or her clan could benefit from the outcome of the mage-templar war. Using her knowledge of human society, she managed to blend in with the crowd at the Temple of Sacred Ashes.

Being a simple hunter beforehand, she was confused by the explosion at the conclave and its aftermath. When she saw the destruction the Breach caused in Haven, she agreed to help in the efforts to stop this madness. She was reluctant when it came to joining the Inquisition however. Being a firm believer in the elven pantheon, Elenara had no ties with the chantry. Being called “Herald of Andraste” felt like deception to her, and so she never actively claimed that title for herself. She ultimately agreed to help Cassandra, Leliana and Cullen to form the Inquisition to secure her own safety and play her part in closing the Breach.

Her biggest concern in the early days of the Inquisition was to save the refugees in the Hinterlands and other regions of Ferelden and protected them from rebel mages and rogue templars alike. Soon, she became known for her compassion and temperance among the Inquisition forces.

With her choice to side with the rebel mages at Redcliffe, Elenara gained a whole heap of enemies, but also new powerful allies.

Becoming Inquisitor

After the descruction of Haven, Elenara struggled with her new role as Inquisitor. Being a firm believer in the elven Creators, she never quite felt at ease with leading the armies of the faithful, and she kept her thoughts on the matter fairly secret. Although her confidants knew about her doubts, she played along with the diplomatic charade Leliana had set up. She knew all too well that this was the only way to stop Corypheus before he could cloak the world.

In the back of her head, she was trying to find a way to use her new power as leverage to help her people–the elves.

Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts

After ending the conflict in the Dales between the imperial forces and the so-called Freeman, it was time to prevent the assassination attempt on Empress Celene. Leliana, Josphine and Vivienne would teach Elenara in the rules of the Great Game in preparation, as well as dancing and ettiquette.

Upon arriving in Halamshiral, Elenara found herself in a state of true panic for the first time since she joined the Inquisition. Right there, in the heart of the Dales where her people once fought for their freedom, she came to realize that she was no longer studying history, but making it with her own hands. Being looked down upon from the Orlesian nobles didn’t do much to help her ease into the situation. She had no fondness for the great game of deception the Orlesians like to play, although she managed to find her way around the Winter Palace. It was painfully clear that there was more at stake than her own reputation. Not just for the Inquisition, but for the elves in general.

In the end, she managed to confront Florianne de Chalons in front of the imperial court, putting an end to her plan to kill the empress. Elenara also managed the reveal delicate details about Grand-Duke Gaspard’s plans to usurpe the throne, and Celene had her cousin executed in response. Elenara’s goal was to reconcile Celene with her former lover to give the elven rebel an edge in Orlesian politics, but the empress exiled Briala instead. Elenara had Leliana and her spies keep an eye out for Briala’s whereabouts since she, too, was interested in helping the elves of Thedas.

Relationship with Solas

As Inquisitor, Elenera used every chance she got to deepen her knowledge of the world. Naturally, she would gravitate towards Solas, who knew more about the history of the world than anyone else she had ever met. She was fascinated by his abilities as a dreamer and would often listen to the stories he had found during his exploration of the Fade. More than that, she saw in him what the elves might be: proud, confident, and respected. Soon, she found herself infatuated with him though keep this to herself until the Inquisition reached Skyhold.

Even after their first kiss in the Fade, Elenara tried to keep her feelings for him fairly secret, meeting with Solas in private whenever possible. Afraid to admit that she had fallen in love with him, she tried to keep up the illusion of them being close friends in front of her companions. An endeavour that was destined to fail, as Varric and Dorian soon discovered the truth about the couple. And yet, Elenara stalled and put of saying “I love you” as long as possible – until one night by a lake near Crestwood.

More on her relationship with Solas here:

OTP Questions #1

OTP Questions #2

Death of the Lavellan clan

Shortly after the events at the Winter Palace, a messenger arrived with a terrible message. Bandits had attacked and killed the Lavellan clan. Any help from the Inquisition came too late.

After the death of her clan, Elenara was so devastated that she practically avoided any mention of them. She felt miserable and ashamed to have not been there to fight among them, and wouldn’t let Solas or any of her other companions comfort her. That was, until a few survivors arrived in the Frostback mountains. Among them were Erendir and his wife Almaril.

Happy to have them back in her life, Elenara offered them a place at Skyhold, but they refused. Almaril hated Elenara for joining the Inquisition while the clan had needed her, although she knew her friend had good reasons to stay in Haven. The bigger problem was Erendir, however. Although he had ended the relationship with Elenara at his own volition and went on to have children with Almaril, he didn’t fail to notice the attachment his former lover felt for Solas. Erendir had loved Elenara deeply and still regretted ending things between them, because she refused to have children with him. Seeing her with Solas, who was a better match for her than Erendir had ever been, made it even worse.

One night, he confronted Solas to learn more about the apostate‘s feelings for Elenara, eventually bragging about his shared past with her. Despite being tempted to teach the other elf a lesson, Solas left Erendir where he stood, determined to never speak of the matter again. When Elenara got wind of this, she felt betrayed and asked Erendir and Almaril to leave Skyhold. She made sure, however, that the Inquisition provided for them and the other surviving clan members before they parted ways.

Here Lies The Abyss & The Temple of Mythal

After the remaining members of the Lavellan clan left Skyhold, the Inquisition armies marched for Adamant Fortress. Interrupting the ritual with which the Grey Wardens would have summoned a demon army, Elenara and her party were attacked by Corphyeus’s lyrium dragon. Opening a rift, she managed to safe Warden Strout, Hawke and herself, as well as Solas, Cassandra and Dorian who had accompanied her on the mission.

After retrieving her memories and defeating the Nightmare, Elenara pressed on to stop Corypheus as soon as possible. After freeing Emprise the Lion from the red templars, she order a coordinated attack on the enemy troups in the Arbor Wilds.

Once again, she was accompanied by Solas, Cassandra, and Dorian as she entered the Temple of Mythal. Under differenty circumstances, finding the temple would be a life-long wish of hers fulfilled. Tempted to stay and study the ancient relief in the temple to learn as much about the past of her people, only the immediate danger of Corypheus taking the power of the Well of Sorrows let her press on.

Elenara sided with the Sentinels to bring down the red templars that attacked the ancient temple. Afraid of the power of the Well and what might do it with her, Elenara decided to let Morrigan drink from the waters and be bound to Mythal’s will.

When she ventured deeper into the Arbor Wilds to find the altar of the Mythal, Elenara had already begun to suspect that something was wrong. Until then, her belief in the elven gods had been unfaltering, but knowing that the All-Mother still lived and had chosen to ignore the plight of her people made her question their authority. Had she been unsure if she could continue her life as a Dalish elf and came to except that she had to become some else entirely.

The Vallaslin Removal

When Solas told her about the true meaning of the vallaslin, Elenara was deeply hurt. Though she had taken some pride in being Dalish and loved her people for trying to preserve elven history, she was disappointed by the elven Creators by this point that she wanted to leave her past and devotion for them behind. Therefore, she allowed Solas to take the vallaslin from her.

The Battle With Corypheus And After

Rattled by the events at the Temple of Mythal and the break-up with Solas, Elenara dove head first into the final confrontation with Corypheus, not hesitating to face the Tevinter magister in the Valley of Sacred Ashes. Fully prepared to die in battle, she fights her nemesis with brute force. When she finally obtained the orb from Corypheus’s hands, she banished the magister to the Fade without batting an eyelide. It was the first time, she came into contact with her darker side and gave in to her own lust for revenge.

After the battle and Solas disappearance, she began to feel exhausted, drained from the struggles. Slowly, she descended into a state of depression. Not only had she lost her clan, but also her home, her faith in the Creators and her identity, as well as the man she had come to love. Knowing all to well that it would be best for her to move on and find new purpose in live, she clung to her former life and couldn’t stop loving Solas. To distract herself, she took on the mission of finding the resting place of Inquistor Ameridan and was eager to help out with the earthquakes in the Deep Roads. Until...

The Exalted Council and the Qunari Invasion

Two years after the destruction of Haven, Cassandra, now known as Divine Victoria, called for an Exalted Council in Halamshiral. Returning to the city in which she had fought so hard to gain the respect of the Orlesian nobles – and humans in general – Elenara final came to the conclusion that in it was time to move on. She had felt lost for too long know and it was taking a toll on her. So, when the time came to meet with the ambassadors of Ferelden and Orlais, she fully expected the negotiations to result the the disbanding of the Inquisition.

And yet, when a qunari corpse was found in the middle of the Winter Palace, she felt that sense of purpse again. Dealing with the threat that the qunari posed gave her something to do, something she was actually good at. Even when the anchor was beginning to effect her health, she kept on going, determined to make herself useful again.

What she didn’t expect was to find out that Fen’Harel, the Dread Wolf, was orchestrating the events from behind the scenes. With what she had learned about Mythal, Elenara was willing to believe that Fen’Harel was a living and breathing entity, too. When she learned that Solas was the trickster god she learned to fear as a child, her world was shattered once again. Not even once did she consider joining him, for she had fought to hard to protect the world as she knew it. Even without a purpose and without a new identity that transcended her role as Inquisitor, she knew she could not let Solas go forth with his plans, no matter how much she still loved him.

After the Exalted Council

Learning that the Inquisition has been compromised by qunari spies and Fen’Harel’s agents, she executed her initial plan of disbanding the entire organization as soon as she and her party returned to the Winter Palace.

With the Inquisition gone, Elenara found herself free to go wherever she wanted. Now holding the title “Countess” in Kirkwall, she returned to the Free Marches and tried to settle in to her new estate in Hightown while corresponding with Cassandra, Dorian, Cullen and Leliana to coordinate the activities to counter Solas’s plan. She felt confident working from underground and plotting to redeem her former lover.

Six months after the painful revelation of Solas being Fen’Harel and Elenera’s fruitless attempts to learn more about her lovers whereabouts, she called in a few favors and went to Val Royeaux to attend the University of Orlais–one of the first elves to ever do so. The university gave her access to ancient documents with which she planned to further her studies on Fen’Harel, while her presence allowed elves to pursue an academic career more openly. Elenara fought for their rights for higher education, using her reputation as Inquisitor and “Herald of Andraste” as well as her acquaintance with Professor Kenric as leverage.

And there she remains, until she finds a way to change the Dread Wolf’s heart or counter his plan to destroy the world.

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #female inquisitor #female lavellan #f!lavellan #elenara lavellan #my ocs

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allisondraste · 6 years

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How close did Niamh get to figuring out what was really going on with Solas during the main game events? Any scenes where he said just a little too much and had to backtrack and "I saw it in the Fade" didn't quite cut it for her?

Well, I started with an idea and the story kind of just… ran away with itself. Thank you for this lovely prompt. I have missed Solavellan a little too much.

The relationship was a selfish endeavor that he should not have encouraged or pursued. At least, that was the comfort Solas offered himself in his decision to distance himself from the inquisitor. He furiously scrawled lines across blank parchment, charcoal dust covering his hands as he worked. Lines became shapes and shapes became a form, her form, with all its beautiful values and intricacies, the detail of the her freckles, the shimmer of light reflecting from her eyes. As he brushed away the excess charcoal, he saw her as she had appeared when he told her she was important to him, eyes intently locked on his own.

He was not yet certain which was worse: the lack of eye contact or the nauseating sensation he experienced when her eyes did happen upon his, still filled with the same anger and hurt they held that night in Crestwood. Try as he may to distract himself, he could not keep his thoughts occupied enough so that they would not wander to her. The image of her tear-stained face contorted by betrayal was emblazoned on his mind like Mythal’s marks that remained upon her forehead.

“She feels her face, marked, marred without malice. She didn’t know. She thinks it’s why you walked away.”

Cole’s words that rang in his ears were like a knife twisting more deeply into his chest. She had every right to be angry with him. She deserved a truth that he could not give her. Perhaps if he had told her that he was Fen’Harel, she would have understood and even welcomed his decision. An entanglement with the villain of tales told to strike fear into the hearts of her people, tales she knew by heart, was likely not what she had imagined when she first kissed him in the Fade.

Yet he could not bring himself to tell her, as part of him desperately did not want her to know. It was the part of him that wanted him to abandon his plan for restoration of his people. It was the part of him that still trembled at the memory of her touch. Telling her meant risking her rejection of him, a reality he was not yet prepared to face. The high level of emotion and tension between them was better than nothing at all.

“Solas,” a familiar and commanding voice jolted him from his rumination. Her voice.

He shuffled his drawing under some other sketches that he would not be as embarrassed for her to see. He stood to face her, his hands clasped tightly behind his back, his jaw clenched in an attempt to appear aloof, a stance at which he had previously been very adept. She would see through it. She always did.

“Inquisitor.” he stated coldly, watching her frown from the formality. The title was as bitter on his tongue as tea and he detested it equally as much. It brought him no joy to deepen her wounds, but it was necessary. Her name was an intimacy he could no longer allow himself. His will was fragile and it would be so easy to falter.

“Don’t do that to me,” she pleaded, her voice cracking, “Don’t you even dare. I came here to have an honest conversation with you, and I do not need this fucking facade, Solas.”

“How can I help,” he asked, his voice still distant. His heart plummeted into his stomach as she looked at him with utter disbelief.

“Help,” she retorted with a bitter laugh, “You think I’m here for advice? Really?”

“If you do not wish for my assistance in preparing for your battle with Corypheus, then I am -”

“No need to finish that sentence,” she interrupted, “If you can’t drop this act - because I know its an act- and talk to me about what happened, and why it happened, then we are done here.”

She turned abruptly to walk away.

“Niamh, wait.”

Panic seized him at the thought of this being their last conversation, and he reflexively grabbed her wrist, pulling her back to him. For a moment, they stood just feet apart, looking at each other. Her gaze softened, the crease between her coppery brows fading, and Solas presumed she had seen it in his eyes, the anguish he felt.

“I promise you, I am not going to question your decision, not this time,” Niamh assured him, “I just need to know… I need to understand.”

“You will,”Solas answered, “In time.” He knew it was a pathetic defense, but he could offer her nothing else.

“No, that’s not good enough,” she snapped, her voice elevating again, “You have some really weird views about the elves, views that match absolutely nothing I have ever been told, nothing I have ever read about anywhere ever.”

“This knowledge is something that one can only acquire from journeying deep into the Fade,” he explained, “It is not something that - “

“Yes, yes. I know,” she said sarcastically, gesturing emphatically with her hands, “These wonderful spirits of the Fade just flocked to you to bestow upon you boundless knowledge of a people that you do not consider yourself to have anything in common with. Whether that is a lie, the truth, or some bastardized form of the truth, I was able to accept it. It at least made sense.”

Solas watched intently as Niamh paced about in front of him while she spoke, appearing to become increasingly agitated as the conversation progressed. Holes in his story that had once been small were widening, rapidly. She would figure him out if she had not already. He did not know whether to be relieved or terrified.

“You know what doesn’t make sense,” She asked rhetorically as she stopped pacing and stood directly in front of him, “How you, the man who refuses to associate with elves as a whole, seems to have some unspoken kinship with an ancient sentinel who is quite possibly thousands and thousands of years old. Did the Fade do that to?”

“I empathized with Abelas,” Solas stated. It was the truth, even if it was flimsy.

“Are you sure about that,” Niamh asked irreverently, “Because, I think everything confusing about you would be much better explained if you happened to be some kind of ancient being yourself.”

Her eyes locked directly with his, piercing through him entirely. He blinked a few times and looked away. He wanted to say something, to tell her that she was right and offer her an explanation for why he had been subversive. Yet, he could not find the words.

“You don’t have to say anything. I know that you won’t, anyway,” she said matter-of-factly, “But I sincerely hope that I’m right. Everything is a lot easier to understand and forgive if that’s the case. It’s better to think you’re out of touch than an asshole who thinks he is better than everyone else.”

Again, he did not speak, but he did allow his gaze to meet hers again. She smiled and shook her head.

“If I was wrong, you would be arguing with me,” she said with a laugh, even as a tear rolled down her cheek, “You love telling me when I’m wrong.”

“Vhenan,” he faltered, impressed by her intuition and touched by her emotion. He reached out and wiped the tear away.

“Goodbye, Solas,” she said solemnly. She leaned forward and pressed her lips against his cheek, before turning and slowly leaving the room. She did not glance back at him, not even once.

Tears burned in his own eyes as they started to fall freely. He doubted that he would see her again before the battle with Corypheus, and whether she survived the encounter or not, he would not be present when she returned. Once he regained possession of his foci, his duty would call him elsewhere. Heartache was a complication that he had not anticipated. He had never imagined that he could love someone from this world as he loved Niamh Lavellan. He had misjudged her. Perhaps he had misjudged everyone.

Alas, it was too late to turn back now, with his plan already in motion.

He returned to his desk, sat down at his chair, and pulled out his drawing. He smiled as he traced the lines with his fingertips.. He opened one of the drawers on his desk, removing a decently sized bundle of parchment tied together with twine. Pulling the knot loose revealed several other sketches of his love that he had done in the past year. He placed the newest piece on top, tied the twine as it had been before, and returned the bundle to the drawer.

On a blank piece of parchment, he wrote:

You were right, although I wish that were not so.

You changed everything.

Ir abelas.

He tossed it in the drawer along with his drawings of her. Perhaps she would see them when she returned.

#solavellan #solas #female lavellan #dragon age inquisition #dragon age #da fanfiction #allison answers #celeritassagittae

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shannaraisles · 6 years

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The Rose In The Crown - Chapter 2

Summerday is always a day of joy, a day of marriages made and love affirmed. And for Ferelden, this Summerday is one to be remembered. King Alistair, ten years a king with no heir in sight, will finally marry his chosen bride.

Sequel to A Rose By Any Name.

Featuring the winners of my giveaway! Chapter two features @puddle–wonderful‘s character, Marguerite Dujardin, and @savvylittleminx‘s character, Namari Lavellan!

[Read on AO3]

Chapter 2

"You seem a little agitated, your majesty."

Alistair's head snapped up from his annoyed perusal of the roses beneath the window, a little ashamed that he had been caught fidgeting. He'd been doing so well all day pretending that he was fine. But he really wasn't fine. He was getting married tomorrow, to a beautiful, intelligent, funny princess, and he couldn't get away from the thought that she might possibly come to her senses in the next twenty hours or so and leave him at the altar. He couldn't even seek her out for a little personal reassurance - Fabs was closeted away with her parents today. He wouldn't see her until she entered the great hall on her father's arm tomorrow. Right now, that felt a lifetime away. Anything could happen between now and then.

And now he'd been caught being irritated at his own downcast thoughts by a woman he had never even heard of before yesterday.

Marguerite Dujardin might be Orlesian, which should count against her, but she was also a loved friend of his betrothed, a trusted assistant to the Inquisitor's ambassador, and at last night's meal, had proved to be more than entertaining enough to keep a meal shared by the soon-to-be-weds and the bride's parents from becoming awkward in the first place. She was also, unfortunately for him, at a loose end today in Fabs' absence, and far too observant for his peace of mind.

"I'm told it's perfectly natural to be a little agitated the day before your wedding, Lady Dujardin," he answered, turning to face the dusky-skinned beauty as she joined him by the window. "This time tomorrow, I may be a married man."

"Will be, your majesty," Marguerite corrected him, her smile understanding but amused beneath one raised brow. "Only the sixth Blight could prevent the princess from exchanging her vows for yours tomorrow."

Alistair flushed, aware he was not exactly behaving like a king should. There was an openness to this woman that invited confidences; if she hadn't been Fabs' friend, he was sure he wouldn't have continued as he did.

"I miss her," he blurted out. "Ridiculous, isn't it? It isn't as though we spend every hour of the day together, but half a day without a sight of her, and I'm pining and panicking like a child."

Marguerite's smile gentled in the face of his rather sweet confession. "I am sure she misses you with the same passion, your majesty," she assured him. "But it is an Antivan custom for the bride to seclude herself with her family the day before she leaves them for good."

"I'm hardly going to deny her contact with her parents," he protested, but Marguerite held up a hand to still his protest.

"That is not what I mean," she said quietly. "This is the last day when she will be exclusively their daughter, the last day of wearing her title of Princess of Antiva. In marrying you, she must renounce her allegiance to Antiva. Her home from tomorrow will be Ferelden; her family from tomorrow must be her husband before her parents. A woman sacrifices a great deal to marry, your majesty, and a princess, even more. But that does not mean the sacrifice is not worth making."

His mouth worked silently for a moment or two, shame coloring his expression as he finally managed to say, "I ... hadn't considered that."

And it was shameful, he realized, not to have truly considered how much Fabs' life would change as of tomorrow. She had been in Ferelden for three months - three wonderful months, for two of which he had been privileged to get to know her and her occasionally strange but ultimately entertaining hobbies and preferences - and in that time, he had seen her only as she was here. He had watched her learning to get to grips with Ferelden politics, mingling with the nobles of the court and winning them over with her charm and warmth, reacting to the easy love of his subjects with that same warmth, growing into her role as guardian to Maria. Yet not once had he given thought to the life she had left behind and would never return to, the life she had been born to and raised in. She had told him stories of Antiva, and he had never tied them to the homesickness she must be feeling; so focused on Summerday and finally being able to call her his wife that he had not considered how huge a change all this must be for her. In a matter of hours, she would leave her old life behind and begin something brand new, and he, for all his flaws and mistakes, would be her only true anchor for a long time to come. It was a suddenly very humbling realization that made all his annoyed agitation flee.

Marguerite was smiling as she watched him come to this conclusion.

"I have no fear for my friend here in Ferelden," she told him in a gentle tone. "Because she is loved. And that, your majesty, is all she needs to bloom."

She curtsied to him, her smile almost unnervingly knowing as she stepped away, returning to her own party. Alistair watched her go, frowning thoughtfully. How did an Orlesian noblewoman become so nice? he wondered to himself, glancing down as a soft harrumph at his side declared that Lady had abandoned her pups for an hour or so to investigate the visitors to the palace. He smiled at his favorite hound, leaning down to pat her flank fondly as she butted at him.

"You'll help me look after Fabs, won't you, love?" he asked the mabari, who looked at him as though just asking that question was the stupidest thing he could possibly have said.

He laughed, bending to let his beloved hound lick his cheek. Footsteps crossing the quiet gallery drew his attention, urging him to straighten as Lady Ciara approached him with a bright grin on her face.

"Your majesty, another guest has arrived," she told him, her voice brimming with delight. "An old friend, in fact. You remember Callista, don't you?"

Alistair bit down on a grin of his own. Who could forget Callista of Nevarra and her distracting bosom?

"She's here?" he asked, his brows raising with actual pleasure. As intimidating as Callista had been for a couple of weeks, he had learned to appreciate her wit and intelligence, and felt deeply grateful that she had not actively attempted to seduce him into marriage.

Ciara's pale eyes danced with laughter as she answered. "She is, and she has brought a guest of her own," she informed him. "Shall I tell the steward to allow them in?"

"Of course! She's very welcome," was Alistair's response, his curiosity piqued by the sheer mischief in Ciara's expression.

The quiet lady from Amaranthine had come into her own since the announcement of the king's engagement, seeming to delight in her new status as first lady of the queen-to-be's household, which protected her from any further marital interference from her family as well as keeping her close to the friend she had made in the princess. It was a pleasure to see her so confident; Alistair had high hopes of the quality of the nobility in Amaranthine raising by several degrees when Ciara finally returned to them after her education at Fabs' hands.

He watched as the girl returned to the far end of the gallery, as she embraced the familiar dark-haired form that could only be Callista, and curtsied to the guest Callista had brought with her, gesturing for them to go and present themselves to the king even as he moved to meet them halfway. Callista's bold smile was surprisingly reassuring to see, to note that she had not changed much at all in the past couple of months. She curtsied to him.

"We meet again, your majesty," she said warmly. "Under far better circumstances, I must say. You look very good for a man forced into marriage."

Alistair snorted with laughter. He should have expected that this particular woman would not stand on ceremony, not after a month spent deftly sabotaging Delphine's matrimonial hopes.

"It's a pleasure to see you again, Lady Callista," he greeted her in turn, taking her hand to kiss it without needing to be prompted. "Fabs will be so pleased you're here."

"I am very much looking forward to seeing her again, though I doubt it shall be before tomorrow," Callista replied, apparently better aware of Antivan customs than he had been before King Fulgeno and Queen Mireia arrived. "I understand Ceri is still here, as well?"

Alistair laughed. "I doubt we could convince her to leave," he admitted. "It hasn't been announced yet, but she and Fergus will be celebrating their own marriage in a little under a month. I'm sure she would be pleased to have you there as well."

"Ah, wonderful!" Callista, to her credit, did appear genuinely delighted with this news. "Then I shall not have to set fire to any beds on this visit to prevent anyone from making a bad decision."

"I'm sorry?"

For a moment, his mind spun. Set fire to any beds? But that was ... His eyes narrowed at her laughing smile.

"That was you?" he demanded, shock swiftly giving way to amusement of his own. "You set fire to my palace?"

"I set fire to the empty bedroom in your palace when I knew Rosamunde was dallying," Callista corrected him. "It was not my intention to have so many of us incapacitated by the smoke, but it all turned out well in the end."

"You ... there was no ... we thought it was an assassin!" he protested, but even he knew protesting so long after the fact was ridiculous. He let out a full laugh, shaking his head. "Remind me never to cross you, Callista. I happen to be rather attached to my own bed, thank you."

"Darling, your bed is now Felicita's bed, and I will never set fire to it unless you do something heinous to her," she assured him, patting his hand with an impish grin. She turned, taking the hand of her companion - a petite woman who shared the same warm coloring as her, all dark hair and bold eyes. "Your majesty, allow me to introduce to you my wife, Phebe Acorta."

"It's a pl-" Alistair abruptly stopped as his mouth caught up with his ears. "Your wife?"

Again, Callista laughed, thoroughly enjoying befuddling the king and keeping his mind off his own wedding on the morrow.

"Indeed, Alistair, my wife," she confirmed, raising Phebe's hand to her lips to kiss the other woman's palm. "A condition of my attending your charming wife contest - I was to comport myself as a true lady of Nevarra, and if I failed to gain your favor, I would be permitted to marry the woman I love."

Again, Alistair felt his mouth working silently as he processed this, but for once, Anora's less-than-patient reminders to think faster paid off. He snapped his mouth shut, and smiled with genuine pleasure.

"I had no idea," he told her, bowing to the married women in delight. "It does explain a fair amount, though."

This drawling comment drew a low laugh from Phebe. "She delights in being mischievous, your majesty," she said, her voice a pleasantly low counterpoint to her wife's more strident tones.

"I think she's rubbed off on a few of the ladies of my court, Lady Phebe," Alistair replied, his smile so true now as to crinkle his eyes as he glanced between them. "May I offer my congratulations on your marriage? And tell you that I am very pleased not to have come between true lovers."

"Thank you, your majesty." Phebe inclined her head to him, both women almost glowing in their own satisfaction at finally being allowed to live their lives with the one they loved.

Lady bumped Alistair's leg, drawing his attention toward the steward, who was standing nearby and looking distinctly awkward. Actually ... Alistair's eyes narrowed in suspicion as he considered the man. Not awkward; the man looked offended and disgusted. And unfortunately that could only mean one thing. This particular member of the staff had somehow managed not to adapt to the inclusive policy. The king sighed, bowing to the ladies once again.

"Do excuse me," he apologized. "I have to educate my steward on his manners once again. You are very welcome, both of you."

Callista smiled and nodded, already pulling Phebe away to locate Ceri and get all the gossip Ciara hadn't managed to impart yet before her wife could make her curtsy to the departing king. Alistair let his gaze linger on them for a moment, pleased with their obvious happiness, and a little envious of the way they were so openly loving to one another. Tomorrow, he promised himself, and every day after, that will be me and Fabs. But for now, he had a slightly less pleasant conversation to have with an unfortunately bigoted human in a position of minor authority.

The steward bowed as he approached, but didn't get the chance to open his mouth.

"Stamford, if you have sent our Dalish guest to the servants' entrance, it will go very hard with you," Alistair told him sternly. Oh, yes, he knew this man's opinions very well.

Stamford's mouth hung open for a moment before he pulled himself together. "Sire, she is not the sort of person who -"

"She was invited to join us for the wedding and the celebrations," his king said with a frown. "Find her, apologize to her, and escort her here, if you please. And after that, remove yourself from these proceedings. I will not have my guests treated so rudely just because you refuse to move with the times."

He held the man's disapproving stare until Stamford remembered his place, offering a fresh bow before stalking away. He had no doubt that the apology would be perfunctory and not at all sincere, but at least he knew the man would give the apology in person. With luck, the First would not be too offended.

"I doubt she will hold it against you, your majesty," a low voice said to his right.

Alistair turned, surprised to find Inquisitor Lavellan standing by his side. Doshiel was a quiet man, but he saw everything and heard more. It should have come as no surprise that he would notice this particular interaction and guess at its purpose.

"I should have had him replaced with someone else when I noticed he was the steward on duty." Alistair sighed, shaking his head. "You truly do not think she will take against all of us for his bigotry?"

Doshiel's rare smile flickered into view for a brief moment. "Ghilan'Elgar has no patience with those who discriminate at a whim, but delights in those who choose to integrate," he assured the king. "She will not hold an entire race responsible for the actions of even the majority. Deshanna is a very good teacher of tolerance."

"Ghilan'Elgar?" Alistair repeated in confusion.

"A title given to her many years ago," Doshiel explained. "She always was a mischievous child."

Alistair felt himself smile. "Oh, of course," he said belatedly. "You are of her Clan."

"I am no longer of Clan Lavellan, but I have been permitted to keep the name," the Inquisitor said quietly. "You need not fear reprisals, your majesty. She came at your invitation, and very well done that was, too."

Despite himself, Alistair responded to the praise from the older man with a warm glow in his heart. He had lived almost all his life with little genuine praise from anyone; to have this stern, quiet elf approve of his actions was an uplifting experience.

"Will you stay and meet her with me?" he asked on a whim, watching as the Inquisitor's eyes brightened with pleasure at the invitation.

"I would very much like that, your majesty." Doshiel glanced back toward his former companions - Josephine, Leliana, Dem - all chatting very earnestly about one thing or another. "I do not think I will be missed."

"I am sure you are missed whenever you are absent," Alistair commented, but said no more on the subject. He could tell that the relationship between the Inquisitor and his ambassador was rife with tension - not between the couple, but all over them in the presence of many others who might not approve of an elf and a human making a life together.

Thankfully, he was saved from making any further comment by the reappearance of Stamford, this time escorting a small elven woman into the king's presence. She was petite in a way Alistair had only really seen in Demelza - small, yes, but not a smallness that declared any kind of weakness; dusk-dark skinned, wide amber eyes, her vallaslin shimmering in pale green at her forehead and chin. Unlike other Dalish elves he had met, she also wore make up - bold teals that painted her eyelids and lips.

"Namari Lavellan, your majesty," Stamford introduced her, and swiftly left before Alistair could humiliate him in front of the Dalish woman.

"First, I am so very sorry for my steward's bigotry," Alistair began. "He should not have been allowed to greet you."

Namari Lavellan offered him a surprisingly whimsical smile. "No harm done, majesty," she told him, her voice light and warm. "Thank you, for remembering the Dalish in your celebrations, though I do not believe Clan Lavellan has ever been to Ferelden."

Alistair's smile was a little awkward. "I could not find Lanaya or her clan," he admitted, "and I did not intend to send men searching for them. But I was directed to your Keeper by the Inquisitor, and I am very glad you have chosen to join us. I appreciate the danger of such a journey."

"Ah, yes, the Inquisitor." Namari tilted her shining eyes toward Doshiel, and something passed between the two elves that the human in their midst could not grasp. Then she laughed, all but bouncing forward to embrace the stern elder of her clan. "Deshanna will be so pleased to know you thrive, hahren."

Chuckling, Doshiel hugged her tight for a moment before releasing her. "I do, da'len, and happily. It is a pleasure to see you so unchanged by the violence you have endured."

"Your assistance saved us at the critical moment," Namari answered him. "Just as well, really, or I would have come to Skyhold and frozen you to a wall."

The Inquisitor laughed. "With Ilvin and Eliana's help, no doubt," he agreed easily enough.

Alistair cleared his throat a little awkwardly, aware that he was just wallpaper to a warm reunion at this point.

"Forgive me, there are others I should speak with," he said, inclining his head to both Lavellans with a smile. "You are very welcome to Denerim, First Lavellan. My councilors will make certain your rooms are comfortable." He was about to turn away when he remembered something else. "Oh, and the Divine would like to speak to you about tomorrow's ceremony."

Namari blinked, seemingly both surprised and impressed. "I will make the Inquisitor introduce me, then, majesty," she assured him with a merry smile. "Thank you."

Stepping away, Alistair glanced down at Lady and came to an abrupt decision. He wasn't exactly needed during this admittedly boring afternoon of just marking time until dinner, and Cormac was under orders not to let him work on anything that wasn't absolutely urgent until after he returned from his brief honeymoon. His guests all knew each other, one way or another. And that sense of agitation was back.

"Come on, Lady," he said to his mabari. "I need to be outside."

The beautiful mabari huffed in agreement, turning to lead him toward the door and away from his mingling guests, only some of whom seemed to notice his departure. But no one stopped him. After all, they could sympathize with a bridegroom at a loose end the day before his own wedding. Those who knew him best also knew that, while he was glad to have so many people he could legitimately consider friends close at hand, Alistair was often easily overwhelmed when he allowed himself to relax into their company. Too many at once, and he lost all ability to hold a conversation with people who had known him for years. So there was no objection to the king slipping out of sight for a short while, finding his balance again in the company of his favorite hound.

There might have been a few objections if they'd known where his feet took him. Certainly there was little in the way of dignity when it came to the King of Ferelden standing in a rose bed outside the window that looked into a private suite, where the King and Queen of Antiva were housed, his eyes fixed with longing adoration on the sweet sight of his betrothed. She was so beautiful, and so good - too good for him, in his opinion. And seeing her there, sat between her parents as they talked together ... Alistair could not help a flare of guilt for the fact that, in asking her to marry him, he had also asked her to give up so much. That she had said yes without a second thought did not enter his mind. Left on his own to anticipate his wedding without the distraction and reassurance of her presence, his mind turned to all the negative ways his love impacted on her life.

"You know, tomorrow night you will have to do much more than just stare at her."

Alistair whirled around, catching his foot on the rose bush and stumbling onto the path as Lady launched herself toward the source of that familiar voice. The mabari barked, her tail wagging happily as a slender figure stepped out from behind one of the trees, dropping to one knee to greet her.

"Zevran, you have to stop sneaking up on me when you come to Denerim!" Alistair protested defensively. "One of these days, I might instinctively yell for the guards, and they're expensive to replace!"

Zevrain Arainai, another legend in his own lifetime who had the good fortune to be friends with the King of Ferelden, let out a familiar chuckle as he rose to his feet. The Antivan elf never seemed to change; perhaps a little more scarred in places, but still as smooth and confident as ever.

"I am glad your opinion of my martial skill has improved, my friend," he answered, offering a hand to clasp Alistair's forearm in a friendly greeting. "You did not truly think I would miss seeing you married to the Rose of Antiva, did you?"

"I did wonder if you could take the time out of your hectic schedule to honor us with a visit, yes," Alistair admitted in amusement. "Quite a few of our friends have managed it, after all."

Despite their decidedly awkward relationship during the Blight, he had come to consider Zevran a good and loyal friend over the years, deeply grateful many times over for the spy network the assassin had put in place for him shortly after his coronation, and always glad to see the elf return for however long he chose to stop-over in Ferelden.

"Ah, the delicious Divine and her heroic lady-friend are both here, so I hear," Zevran countered in his cheerful way. "And are they still are fiery as ever?"

"Dem will still kick you down the Chantry steps if you push your luck," Alistair confirmed. "I think Leliana has people to do that for her these days."

"It will be good to see them. But!" Zevran paused, eyeing Alistair with that infuriatingly knowing grin of his. "We are here to witness the marriage of our dear friend to a most worthy lady - that shall be the object of our discussions. Tell me, how much liquor can you handle before your hangover becomes truly terrible?"

"How much ... what are you planning?" Alistair asked, suspicion filling his eyes.

Zevran simply laughed. "You must celebrate your impending husband-hood with friends and wine!" he declared. "I hope you have been paying attention to Sal's lessons at the Pearl, my friend, or you may find yourself outclassed in your marriage bed."

At this, confused already, Alistair felt his mind shudder to a halt even as his ears began to burn. Is he saying what I think he's ...

"I don't care if she's already ... been wooed," he informed the elven assassin, only to be cut off with another warm laugh.

"Oh, no, my friend, I am sure she is as woo-less as you were those long years ago," Zevran assured him. "But Antivan women ... they are a breed apart. Very well-educated. I will not spoil the surprise for you, Alistair. I look forward to hearing the creation of an heir."

"Maker's breath ... no. Absolutely not, there will be no ... hearing of what happens when ... that is ..." Alistair huffed out a swift breath, his face crimson with embarrassment. "Wine, you say? Let's find the wine."

"A wise decision, my friend."

Zevran patted his back in a friendly manner, both of them turning away from the window to return to the palace proper, and the friends still mingling inside. There would be plenty of time to look at Fabs - the rest of his lifetime, in fact. And Zevran, for all his teasing and wickedness, was a good friend to have at hand the night before a wedding.

"Come," the assassin declared as Alistair lead him into the palace, full of friendly mischief for the night ahead. "Let us drink. And I shall tell you all about the wonders of the noble virgins of Antiva."

Maker's breath.

#the rose in the crown #alistair theirin #alistair x oc #princess fabs #ciara of amaranthine #callista of nevarra #doshiel lavellan #marguerite dujardin #namari lavellan #zevran arainai #the day before the wedding #alistair's brain is not a helpful place #minor mention of bigotry #tying up a loose end #friendship and teasing #next stop the wedding!

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jessicadcrazy · 7 years

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Memories lost Part 1 - Solas x Lavellan

People would never have believed how many times the inquisitor had nearly died. Nor would the story of the herald been so popular if those facts were common knowledge. It was always surprising how little people knew outside the inner circle, how they all had become some sort of family. Solas knew that every family had trials and problems they had to get through, but none affected them more then the time Lavellan had amnesia.

He would like to say the story started with a bang, but the truth was it was any other day. His heart had spent the entire day in the war room. She was bound to be prickly after, what he didn’t expect was Josephine barging into the rotunda. Pale, scared and shaking. “Lady Montilyet, are you okay?” he had asked, half expecting her to want someone else. However, the words she said in reply made it so much colder in Skyhold. “Help her.”

Solas did not need anything more, nor did he acknowledge the people gossiping as Josephine led them to the war room. Guards were there, along with a slightly bloody Cullen. Solas overheard the general of her armies explain that assassins had made it into the keep and in retaliation Lavellan had used magic to trap them. It had backfired and sent everyone into varying places in the room. Solas pushed passed and saw the two men in black being forced into ties where as his heart lay on the floor. She would have looked peaceful, calm and serene, if it wasn’t for the scarlet blood that was smeared on her head and the floor. Solas ignored the stinging pain in his chest as he started his healing.

The superficial wounds would be gone in moments, but he had no idea how badly it went. The head was so delicate for what it was and from the looks of it she had hit it pretty hard. Solas whispered elvish words to her, trying to coax her out of the slumber she was in. He ignored the people and the whispers, he even ignored the slight sobs from lady Montilyet. Hope bloomed when she groaned, pale hands moving finally.

“Inquisitor?” Cullen was over his shoulder, Solas knew of the male’s affection and it irked him to no end. Green eyes looked up at them both, she was awake. “You may want to stay down for a few moments, Vhenan.” Solas said softly, calming as she tried to move. Her green eyes met with his and what he saw there made his chest tight.

“Who are you people?” her voice was as strong as it had been when they met, so full of life and strength. “Where am I?” she ignored his advice and forced herself up. Rubbing her head where the cuts had been mere seconds before. Solas felt lost for a moment, she had no memory? Their time together was lost to the fade and it would be his burden to carry that. “You are safe, we are your friends.” Cullen stepped up where Solas had been quiet, she smiled faintly and looked between them and then around the room. Curious and brave, did she trust them?

“Friends.” Lavellan repeated to herself and with the help of Cullen, stood. Solas remained stood in the place he had been where as Cullen was helping her through everything that had happened. He watched her take it in, watched her play with her hair in that way she did when she was thinking. Of course, the human would leave out the details of her being ignorant of Cullen’s feelings and how she loved him. In fact, Solas noted how he left everything to do with him out of the catch up. Leliana seemed to help affirm who she was and who they were. Solas left to himself it seemed.

It was just when he had accepted his new found fate that she looked at him. Green eyes burning with that spirit he had been drawn by, she looked at him in detail and to be under her scrutiny was something new. “And you? Where do you fit in all of this?” her tone was half serious and half amused. “He is one of the many people who help you during the missions.” Cullen answered quickly, hoping if Solas remained silent she would not remember him. Solas bit his tongue, he would not chide the commander. Not right now. “Funny, I thought I asked him.” Her chide was surprising, one that made Solas look back to her. “You called me Vhenan?” she stepped around from the table, looking at him deeply.

“I can explain later, you should rest for now. Your advisers will show you.” Solas replied, his tone colder then he expected, it would be better. If she never recalled their love, if she could forget him completely. Maybe then he would be able to focus on fixing the world. She did not like his reply, he could tell by how her eyes narrowed and her smile faded completely. She did not stop him though, and he was glad, because he couldn’t stand it if she saw him crumble like he did.

Hidden in the shadows of the stairway he breathed out, his throat like broken glass and his heart shattered beyond comprehension. If the damage was not so severe she would recall everything in a few days, if not, then she would have to learn it all again...Maybe it was nicer if she didn’t recall everything. She might actually sleep well that night.

#solas #solas x lavellan #angst #cullen fancies lavellan #feels #part 1 #solas hell

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