#shiral levellan

[enasallavellan]

Cast of Characters

Hey guys! So I saw a really cute picrew here, and I wanted to share some of the images of my favorite OCs from my fics. OC from my new fic is below the cut (so this post doesn't stretch on and on for mobile).

Enasal Lavellan:

Inquisitor in my first (still incomplete) longfic. ADHD out the wazoo and has some weird behaviors, but her sincerity and eagerness to do something good wins people over.

Shiral Lavellan:

Enasals older sister. After being forced into a parental role of her sister at age 12, Shiral both deeply loves her sister but also has some resentment toward her. She worries about her and wants to protect her from the world, but unfortunately, the worry comes across as controlling and mean - she tends to infantize Enasal and still thinks of her as a little girl. Can't stand Cullen and accuses him on multiple occasions of taking advantage of her sister. Many of the denizens of Skyhold have some degree of fear of her.

Annason Garette:

Originally hired to make a dress for Enasal for a meeting with nobility. The twittering and overexcited young Orleisan is a borderline worshiper of Enasal, pleading with Josephine to become her attendant after she and Enasal spend some time together. Eventually, the worship turns into a legitimate friendship.

Serafina Tabris:

My Warden for my newer fic. Serafina was born in a crows nest in Antiva, but when templars raided and burnt the building down, she and a few other survivors were sent to her aunt's nest for five years to work in the kitchens. After an order came down for her death, she was smuggled out of Antiva and sent to her maternal uncle in Denerim. Incredibly timid and with exactly zero self confidence.

Warden Robin:

BAMF with a heat of gold, Robin acts as Duncan's second in command during the search for recruits. She quickly takes to Serafina and does everything she can to boost her confidence and help her feel safe in the camp full of men. It quickly becomes evident that this is a pattern for her, as she helps some of the other recruits with the same gentleness and skill as she does with Serafina.

On the other hand, will rip out someone's throat with her teeth if she thinks it's come to it.

Henrietta Brosca:

My usual dwarven commoner when I play DA. This trouble-making do-gooder loves nothing more than to tease and cause a ruckus. Complains about her companions' complaining by muttering, "Bicker, bitch, and bellyache." Very high energy and can be a little much for some people, but is actually incredibly smart and has a talent for lockpick and trap making.

Hanin Mahariel:

Snarky and a little bit of a pot-stirrer, Hanin tends to have problems with knowing when to stop talking and can ask some pretty obnoxious questions without really thinking them through. An expert with a bow, he can almost keep up with Leliana (though he never actually beats her) and absolutely demolishes Zevran when he quips about knowing how to shoot as well.

Cosette Amell:

A soft-hearted mage who holds tight to romantic and divine ideals. She is a skilled fire mage and delights in using her magic to set darkspawn ablaze. She is very sensitive and would be a pescatarian if she could. If catastrophe strikes her first thought tends to be, "But what about the animals?!"

Bonus:

Lorenzo Araiani:

Lorenzo -who probably won't appear in the fic, is Serafina's cousin. He's grumpy, generally dislikes people, and would really be happy if everyone just left him alone. It might have something to do with being a mage with stupidly strong mind-reading abilities - to the point he can hear all the thoughts of all the people around him. Gets migraines a lot. Likes a total of two people (one of which he sometimes wonders why he continues to let them breathe) and occasionally loses his shit when the headaches get bad enough,

Feel free to ask questions about any of these guys - helps me get to know them better, too!

[lavellansthree]

Protect Clan Lavellan

“Inquisitor,” Leliana called to the redheaded elf as he made his way through the main hall of Skyhold. He stopped in his tracks and turned to look at her. He looked worn out and his skin was a red with sunburns. The month he and his party had spent in the Western Approach had clearly taken its toll.

He waited as Leliana made her way to him, a scroll in hand. She only ever hand delivered missives and reports to him when they were in dire need of his attention. The thought almost made his ears droop. He really just wanted to go rest. Even Bull had retired to his room above the Tavern, not having the energy to even drink with his Chargers.

“We received a letter from your clan,” the spymaster said as she handed him the scroll, her voice low so only the elf could hear her. He took the scroll and unrolled it, reading over it in silence.

Da'len,

I would not trouble you normally. You have enough on your shoulders, fighting ancient Tevinter Magisters while representing your people. Unfortunately, the rifts that plague this land have spread chaos and fear along with them, and many seek to take advantage of it.

Bandits are attacking Clan Lavellan. The raiders are well armed and heavily armored, and they come in numbers our hunters cannot match. We had settled in a small unclaimed valley not far from Wycome, a safe place with few rifts—but these bandits may force us to seek a new home. If your Inquisition can help, you might save our clan much hardship.

Dareth shiral, Keeper Istimaethoriel Lavellan

A deep frown marred his face once he was finished reading the letter, his brows knitting together. Anger was starting to boil in the pit of his stomach but he would not show it, not here in the middle of the main hall with so many people around. He already made enough trouble for Josephine.

“This seems suspicious,” he muttered, rereading the letter. Leliana nodded her head, having thought the same as she read the letter for the first time that morning.

“These seem too powerful to be mere bandits,” she began, crossing her arm firmly across her chest, “My skirmishers can harass their flanks and give your Clan a chance to retreat safely while I uncover the truth.”

Levallan nodded his head, trying not to crumple the letter. Leliana was right and he couldn’t begin to tell her how much he appreciated her coming directly to him with this instead of turning it into a war table meeting. “Please do that,” he said softly as he handed the letter back to his spymaster, “As quickly as you can.”

Leliana nodded her head slightly, tucking the letter into her pocket. “I will send my agents right away,” she said as she turned away from the elf, “I will also inform Josephine and Cullen afterwards. Josie has contacts in the Free Marches and Cullen has experience and knowledge of that area. It could prove useful.”

Lavellan watched Leliana hurry off to do her work and clenched his jaw. He couldn’t believe anyone would go out of their way to target a Dalish clan simply to rob them. Not without a real motive.

He changed his course and made for the training ring outside the main hall. He wouldn’t be able to rest now, not with his mind racing and worry weighing him down. Maybe sparring with the soldiers and the Chargers would help ease him.

_______________________________________________

When he returned from his second trip to the Western Approach, his advisors were waiting by the main gate. Josephine looked worried while Cullen and Leliana had their expressions schooled. He noticed a scroll held loosely in Leliana’s hand and his blood ran cold. He feared what news he would receive of his clan.

He brought his Hart to a stop and dismounted, handing the reins off to Master Dennet before making a beeline for his advisors. He was aware of Bull’s eye on him, watching his body tense and his jaw clench as Leliana handed him the scroll.

He could feel Bull stand behind him as he quickly read the report, his green eyes growing cold as he took in the information.

Nightingale,

Our operatives harassed the enemy and created enough confusion for the Dalish to withdraw safely to a more defensible area.

After investigation, your suspicions were correct: these are bandits in name only. Though they wear no colors, they are mercenaries bought and paid for by Duke Antoine of Wycome himself. It is unclear what caused Antoine to turn on the Dalish, but he should not be trusted. In public, he fully supports the Inquisition, even pledging gold to our coffers, but he has a private agenda, currently unknown.

I can continue gathering information, but suspicions in Wycome are high after the bandits ran into trouble, and any sabotage inside the city runs a high risk of detection.

Jester

Levellan looked up from the letter, rage and fear mixed in his eyes. Why would the Duke do this? His clan had always had a peaceful relationship with Wycome. They were always welcomed into the city and sell and trade their handmade clothes, weapons and medicines.

“What are our options?” He asked, carefully rolling the scroll back up and handing it back to Leliana.

“Jester will continue his investigation,” Leliana began as she slipped the scroll into her pocket, “And my agents will remain with your clan. I sent only elves so they may pass as city elves simply wishing to return to their roots.” Levellan nodded his head, impressed with Leliana’s foresight.

“I’ll have a squad of soldiers prepare to move out to assist your clan if necessary,” Cullen said, resting a hand on the pommel of his sword, “And a letter sent before hand so your Keeper can inform the hunters to expect them without fear.” The redhead nodded his approval, glad he had such a level headed friend in the ex-Templar.

“I will be reaching out to my contacts in Wycome,” Josephine said, writing down names on her parchment board of people she believed could help, “We will figure out what’s really going on.”

“Thank you, all of you,” Levallan said as Bull lightly touched his back before making his way to the main hall, the Qunari’s way of saying he wanted to talk, “Please let me know when Jester reports in.”

With an affirmative from his advisors, the redhead followed Bull’s path to the main hall and to his quarters. His mind was racing and he felt a little numb, Bull was going to have his work cut out for him.

[enasallavellan]

Gif Convo

Enasal: Goes to her older sister for comfort and support after a difficult and miserable day - probably in tears.

Shiral: (Internally screaming)

[enasallavellan]

Enasal Lavellan Pt: 17

Had a few people who were interested in seeing the quick bit about Enasal’s sister.

Guys.  Prepare for Shiral, because she’s a freakin’ trip.

-

-

-

"By the Dread Wolf - stop following me!"

Shiral turned to face the man standing below her. "Go home!"

The man ignored her, "I'm coming to help Enasal."

"No, you're not." Shiral shook her head, "You're coming because you're hoping to bond with my little sister." She adjusted her pack, "The last thing Enasal needs - on top of everything else - is to have to tell some little boy to go away."

"Enasal and I are the same age!"

Shiral rolled her eyes, "Go back to your clan. I visited for supplies, and the rest of your people were content to help and let me go. Then there's you." She made a shooing motion with her head, "Go home, da'len."

A hand grabbed her arm. "I'm coming with you. I know Enasal, I want to help."

"You haven't seen her for ten years!" Shiral argued, "You don't know anything about her."  

"If you would just-"

Shiral held her hand up. "Retter. Enasal is being held by shems. A lot of shems. Her letters say they are treating her kindly, they say she is of high esteem - and that might all be true. But she is still being held," She stood at her full height to get face to face with the other elf, "By a literal army of shems!"

When Retter didn't respond, Shiral rolled her neck and continued up the mountain.

"So you're going by yourself?"

Shiral stopped and turned around, "They'll let me in.”

“And if they don’t?”

“I'll turn around, find some high ground, and put arrows through shems repeatedly until Enasal notices and tells them to let me in."

Retter scoffed, "You think that will work?"

Shiral nodded, "I do."  

"You said your clan was in the Free Marches." He pointed in the vague direction, "Why are you out here?"

"I couldn't find a boat!" She snapped, "The only one that was willing gave me a shiver - I think it was a slave ship." She hefted her pack again, "So I'm walking around."

Shiral clutched her pack, "Keeper told Enasal that if she went to spy on the Conclave, that she would unbind her name and let her back into the clan. Stupid liars - the looks on their faces when everyone heard she survived."

"They knew it would happen?"

"What is wrong with you?" Shiral asked, "They just assumed that she would die on the way.  Enasal isn’t exactly known for keeping her head on straight - spends too much time in the clouds.”

"I'm only trying to help!" 

Shiral snapped her head towards Retter, "We don't need you, or any other elves, or any other clans. I tried to get her to run, but she wouldn't listen. I should have just grabbed her and ran!" She paused, "I think she always hoped people would just forget and let her in again."

Retter nodded. "I understand, Shiral."

Despite that, he continued to walk beside her.  

"What are you doing?" Shiral asked.

"I'm going to help Enasal."

"Go home!"

Retter grinned, "You can't make me turn around, and I can just follow you."

Shiral glared at him, "Why are you so interested in her? You. Don't. Know. Her."

"She seemed smart. I had a nice voice." He shrugged, "Just kind of liked her."

"You're stupid." Shiral spat, "You know that? You don't trek across Thedas for someone like that - how stupid are you?" She groaned, "That would have seemed very romantic and smart when I was around fifteen, you know,  the same age you were when you last saw my sister?"

That gave Retter pause.

"I'll make you deal." Shiral said, "When I find Enasal, I'll let her know, I'll say 'Enasal, Retter wanted to say hello, and asks if you would bond with him’."

Retter stopped.  He glared at Shiral as she continued on.  He, in turn, went back in the direction of his clan.

[enasallavellan]

Enasal Lavellan Pt: 62

A little glimpse of Shiral before she arrives at Skyhold.

And for those not in the world of memories, they’re about to finally leave the swamp.

.

.

Shiral caught the apple Enasal had thrown, taking a hearty bite from it as she picked her way across the ruins.

“You need to stop sneaking off, my little heart.”  Shiral said, laying down beside her sister to look at the mural above, “You’re starting to give the keeper hope.”

“Impossible.”  Enasal said, “I can’t die, I’m like a little roach.”

Shiral laughed and lay down beside her sister, nudging her, “This time next year, we’ll be somewhere else entirely.  A new life and new lands,”  She glanced at her little sister, adoring how the blue sky reflected in them.  “My little sister, all pretty in bridal clothes.”

Enasal laughed, “Stop it!”  

“With a blushing boy on her arm, all ready to tote her home to his clan!”

She waved her away, “I wish we’d just go somewhere ourselves.”

Shiral shook her head, “You say that today, but tomorrow you’ll want to stay forever.”

“I just don’t understand why I should even go to the Arlathvhen”  Enasal said. 

Shiral was rummaging in her own pack, “Because I need to know someone can look after you if anything happens to me.  You’re not quite as tough as you think.”  She said, pulling out a cover and tossing it to her sister.  

“I might be.”  Enasal grumbled.

“You’re not.”  Shiral laughed, helping Enasal with the new caplet and adjusting it,  “There’s nothing wrong with it, not everyone has to be and I don’t want you to change.”  She adjusted a few of her sister’s curls, “You get to stay just as you are.”

“Or,” Enasal argued, “I might be.”

Shiral shook her head, “Don’t worry so much.”   She hefted her bag up and put a hand out, “Give me yours.”  

Enasal obeyed.

“Good!”  She tossed Enasal the pack she had been carrying, “It’s really starting to get cold, so make sure you stay warm.  That cover is halla wool, don’t lose it - ”

“I won’t-”

“And you’ve got a week’s worth of dried meat in there, you should have no trouble surviving that long.  I’d stay here if I were you, you know how the Bitch-Keeper riles everyone up when I’m gone.”

“I-I know.”  Enasal stumbled over her words, “I mean, I will.  I’ll stay here.”

“Good, don’t go anywhere near the camp until I come back.”  

“I won’t.”

“If the clan moves, just wait for me. Promise.”

“Promise.”

Shiral pulled her sister close, “Stay safe, stay hidden.  Bitch-Keeper has been asking around to see if anyone has seen you, so you know what that means.”

Enasal muttered something.

“Enasal.”

“If I see anyone that isn’t you, run.”  Enasal quoted.

Shiral hugged her, “My love to you, little sister.”

“And my love to you.”

Shiral tapped her sister’s nose, “Don’t pout. The hunt will only last a few days, I’ll be back soon.”

Enasal backed up and waved to Shiral, forcing a smile until she disappeared.  She sighed and sank to the ground, resigning herself to a stretch of loneliness.  She wished she had hugged her sister a bit longer.

.

.

.

Enasal’s dreams were similar at each beacon: always a temple, always searching for someone, always her clan.  Any details were lost to her upon waking, and she only had the vaguest of ideas in what she could remember.

“Interesting, always a temple you say?”  Solas asked her, “Do you recall anything about it?”

She shook her head, “Elven I think, but that’s about it.”  She slowed to a stop and nodded ahead, “Those gates, see anyone Bull?”

Bull had already been scanning the entrance, “Enough to make people think twice about trying to walk though, but not enough to deal with a full invasion.”  He looked down at Enasal, “Probably have orders to not kill you, since their leader wants to fight you.”

“The Avvar sure make them big.”  Enasal said.

Bull tried not to laugh so he could keep his voice low, “I’m sure they have little stringbeans like you, but these guys are to instill some fear.”

Enasal nodded and looked at the group, “Cole, can you give us any insight?”

“They miss their homes.”

She looked back at Bull, “Any chance we could make them run?”

Bull shook his head, “The Avvar are all about honor, running from a battle could mean banishment from Avvar lands.”

Enasal sighed, “Okay, no way around it.”  She leaned forward to look at Solas, “You’re really the only one who really has any range. Find a safe place and lay waste - I want to save those soldiers and -“

Bull grabbed her as fire erupted around them. He shoved her aside,  “Pitch bomb, be careful.  You don’t need a mage to set everything on fire.”  

Enasal nodded and took off towards the keep, dodging this way and that.  A hammer tore the air near her ear and she rolled away, answering with an attempted knife throw that managed to stick on the ground a foot away.

She needed to practice.

Albeit not deadly, the knife caught enough light on its small journey to draw a quick glance from the Avvar, in which Enasal was able to maneuver away and into the castle proper.  

“Herald of Andraste!”  A shout ripped through the air,  “Face me!”

Ahead, stood another hulking man.  Painted with red, black, and white, he was a gruesome sight to behold, all sinew and scars and teeth.

Now was a good time to follow directions.

Enasal spun on her heels and rocketed towards the Avvar, immediately ducking into a roll and slashing at his ankles. One of her cuts made it through the leather, drawing a line of deep red across his armor.  He shouted something and backhanded Enasal with such force that she spun down the stairs.  The man screamed as fire suddenly consumed him, he fell to the ground, writing and shuddering before laying still.

Bull plucked her up while the others caught up.

“You okay?”  

Enasal nodded, “Yeah, thanks.”  She sheathed her blades and looked around, “That Sky Watcher said our soldiers were being held here.”  She took a breath and shouted, “The Avvar are gone!  We’re with the Inquisition, shout so we can find you!”

A clammer issued from a room nearby, and Enasal made quick work of the lock. She imagined she was getting better.

The soldiers seemed safe and overall unharmed.  When Enasal came in, a man with a bandaged leg was the first to put two-and-two together.

“The Herald of Andraste!”

Enasal nodded, “Is everyone alright?”

The man nodded, continuing to stare at her as though looking at an angel.  Another soldier popped him on his head, “Yes, your Worship.  The injured need some rest, but we can make it back on our own.”  He helped the staring soldier up.

“We never expected it to be you, personally.”  Another man said, “We thought we might get help… but never you in person.”

One of the women gave him a friendly slap to his chest.  “I told you it’d be her.”  She lowered her head and saluted.  “Thank you, Inquisitor.”

Enasal returned the salute, “Of course, give your king my regards.” 

The soldiers all came to a stop and a few skittered back when they saw the Sky Watcher waiting at the entrance.  Enasal held up her hand to stop them.

His mouth twitched with the threat of a laugh, “Your god looks after you, Herald.”  He looked into the hold and nodded, “There lies the brat.  His father, chief of our holding, would duel me for the loss, if he cared enough.”

Enasal looked back at Bull, who rolled his eyes and motioned for her to get it over with.  “Ser Sky Watcher,”  She began, “The Inquisition is always ready to welcome a new soldier in our midst.  There’s still a lot to do, even with the Breach sealed.”

The man gave a slow nod, seeming neither surprised or excited.  He looked up to the sky for a moment and whispered to himself, “Is this why you led me here?  To help heal the wounds in your skin?”  He considered before looking back at Enasal, “Aye, I’ll join you.”

“My name is Enasal.”  She said, “As Inquisitor, I officially welcome you to the Inquisition.”

He took her hand and shook it, “Sky Watcher Amund. Let me make peace with my kin, and I’ll find where you set your flag.”

The survey for Winter Palace Clothes

 https://www.opinionstage.com/enasallavellan/what-should-enasal-wear-to-the-winter-palace

@mauvette268

[enasallavellan]

Is Shiral going to kill someone?

If she gets some help and manages her issues, she might get a spot with Leliana's people. If not, I doubt she'll commit murder, despite her distaste and (let's be honest) jealousy over Enasal's friends.

[enasallavellan]

Enasal Lavellan Pt: 63

Shiral is not an easy person to get along with.

She’s actually been a super-difficult character.  When I made the decision to have Shiral in this work, I knew I would make my job very difficult because she can and will throw a monkey wrench in everything she’s involved with.

Trust me, she get’s better.

.

.

Finally home in Skyhold, Enasal nearly fell off her horse in her impatiences to get off.  Cullen caught her and helped her right herself in the saddle, “What are you going to do if I can’t make it down here to help you off?”

“You always make it.”

“And if I don't walk over?”

“Then I’ll get off myself.”

He chuckled, “So, you're admitting you don’t actually need help.”

“I don’t need it, but it’s very appreciated.”

He shook his head and helped her off her horse.

Down on the ground, she squeezed his arms and grinned, “I saw some flowers on the way here.”

“Did you?”

“Don’t look at me like that.  They weren’t just regular flowers, they were the flowers.”  She threw her arms out, “The first flowers of spring!” 

He laughed, “Now that I think of it, I haven’t noticed the cold much these days.”

“Seastorm!”  

Enasal turned and shouted “Varric!”

“There’s my girl!”  He said, lifting her off the ground for a few seconds, “They take good care of you?”

She nodded, “Yes they did - oh I missed you so much!”

“So are you dead?”

“No.”

“Horribly maimed?”

She glowered at him.  

He ruffled her hair, “See, you survived without me!” 

She hugged him again, squeezing him tight, “Barely.  Solas and I got into a fight and a lot of weird stuff happened.”

“Weird stuff happened to you?  Perish the thought.”

“It was so weird!”

Varric laughed, “Seastorm, you’re breaking my ribs!”

Solas hurried towards his own room, “She can summon barriers and light veilfire.”

“...What?”  Varric asked.

Enasal shrugged, “I still don’t think I did the barrier.”

Cullen frowned, “Is that something we should be worried about.”

“Solas is, I think.”  Enasal said, “But I’m not.  Surprised and a little squeamish about it?  Yes.  Worried?  Not really.”  She snapped her fingers, “Oh, Cullen?”

He glanced at Varric before saying, “Yes?”

“One of the Avvar said that our soldiers had been well trained, and that it could have been much worse if not for that.” She smiled, “Thought you’d like to know.”  She clapped her hand, “And - oh!”  She opened her coat and tapped on the charm he had given her, “You won’t believe what this lived though.  I was so sure I had lost it, but there it stayed.”

“Oh… thank you.”  He rested a hand on his sword and drummed his fingers on the handle.  “On both counts.”

He had wanted to say more, but Enasal was swarmed by other friends and wellwishers, and - before he could blink -  the group was making its way to the nearest tavern.

.

.

.

Cullen looked up from paperwork at the sound of screaming and cursing.  He lost count of how many times the discussion of language came up - was it really so hard not to sling curses at every-

As he opened the door a group of soldiers had rushed back and away from the outer side of the battlements.

“What’s going on out here?”

One of the soldiers pointed past Skyhold’s wall, “Commander, there’s someone-”

He peered over in time to see a bow raised and drawn just in time for him to jerk back and avoid the arrow that whistled past.

 “Where’s my sister?”  

“Sister?” He started before turning to one of the soldiers, “Go get Enasal, bring her here now!”  He took a breath and carefully eased himself over the ledge, “Is your name Shiral?  Enasal’s safe, someone is-”

Another arrow, this time he felt the fletching brush his ear.  “I won’t miss next time!”  Another arrow flew past, just to be sure they all got the message, “The next head that pops up it had better be Enasal’s or you’re in trouble!”

One of his soldiers scoffed, “What’s one girl going to do?”  

Cullen jerked his thumb in the direction of the scream, “Do you want to talk to her?”

“No ser.  Sorry, ser.”

Enasal leapt up the last few stairs, hair disheveled in panic as she threw herself against the battlements

“Shiral?”

“Enasal!  Ma da’lath’in, Enasal!”

“Shiral!”  Enasal had started running to the gates.  Enasal shouted down in Dalish, urging her sister on before she jumped off the battlements, aiming for a nearby tree to grab hold of to speed her fall enough for a somewhat safe landing.

Enasal stood in front of the gate, shaking and unsure.  When the gates began to open Enasal burst into tears and held her arms out, running a few steps to meet her sister.  Crying and talking over one-another, they looked at each other briefly before they both let out another set of sobs.

Shiral was still fussing over his sister when Cullen made it down.  She spoke swiftly in Dalish, examining Enasal’s hair and face, before gasping at something and scolding her. Enasal laughed and shook her head, wiping tears with one hand and dismissing her with the other.  

Enasal’s eyes lit up and she grabbed her sister’s hand, “Shiral, this is Cullen, he commands all of the Inquisitions forces, and is a close friend of mine.”

Cullen nodded, “Shiral, good to meet you on equal footing.  I’m glad you're here, Enasal often talks about how much she misses you.”

The woman did not smile. She looked him up and down, and with a single, deliberate blink, said, “Hello.”

She was not impressed.

Shiral perked and snapped her fingers, “Oh, Enasal!  I ran into an old friend of yours on the way here.”

“A friend?”  Enasal asked.

She nodded, “Retter says hello, and that he wishes to bond with you.”

Enasal squinted her eyes, “Wait, who’s Retter?”

“You met him at the last Arlathvhen.”  She said.

Her little sister’s brow knit in confusion.

“The boy from the Sabrae Clan, his father was the bladesmith.”  When Enasal still seemed confused Shiral laughed, “He gave you your first blades.”

Enasal snapped her fingers, “That Retter? That’s - wait.  Oh.”  She covered her face, “Did he really say that?”

“I told him I would tell you.”

Enasal shook his head, “Oh, no, no - why?  This is a disaster, now I have to write him a refusal letter!”

“I honestly thought you might have said yes.”

“Why would I-”  She fussed with her hair, “I barely remember him!”

Shiral nudged her, “He sure remembered you!”

Enasal said something in Dalish before reaching for her sister, “I have to take you around to meet my friends!  I’m sure Varric won’t mind writing the letter for me.”  She looked at Cullen, “I know you’re probably buried under work, but you know I’m still going to ask.  Would you like to come?”

He smiled weakly, “Nail on the head, Enasal.”

“Okay, will I see you later tonight?”

Shiral looked at her sister with wide eyes before they narrowed and cut to Cullen.

He hadn’t noticed, “Of course. I’ll see you after you eat.”

“As long as you promise to eat at some point.”

“I will.”

Enasal waved and pulled her sister towards the tavern, “Varric will probably be with some of his friends, Bull and Krem, too.”  She gasped, “No! We’ll have a little party! Just us and some of my friends in the tavern! You can meet everyone at once!”

“Maybe.”  Shiral said, tilting her head left and right.  

Enasal was already shoving open the tavern door, “Varric!”

He leaned out of his usually spot and waved her over.  He laughed when they came closer, “Let me guess, your sister?  Well, this is a day for celebration, I told you she’d come Seastorm!”

“Seastorm?”  Shiral asked with a frown.

“I give everyone nicknames.”  Varric said, leaning back to grab Enasal’s head and muss her hair.

“The curls!”  Enasal tried sound despairing, but the laughter did little to help.  Shiral’s first instinct was to punch the dwarf, but her little sister was making such a half-hearted attempt to escape that it was obvious she didn’t mind.

She still wanted to punch him, though.

“You happy?”  Varric asked her.

Enasal grinned up at him, “Yes!”

“I told you she’d come.”  He stood, “Varric Tethras, caretaker of tiny elves and storyteller extraordinaire.  Your sister’s been nice enough to let me look after her.”

“He was the first person outside of you and grandmother to be nice to me.”

Shiral made a noncommittal noise.

Enasal had yet to pick up on her sister’s less than enthusiastic reaction.  “So Varric, could you help me write a letter?  It’s a bit of a…”  She snapped her fingers for a few seconds before glancing at her sister and saying something in Dalish.

Varric laughed, “Thank the Maker, someone else who can help her.”  

They went back and forth before Shiral snapped her fingers, “Delicate.”

Enasal mimicked the gesture, “Delicate!  It’s a delicate matter.”  She slipped into the chair beside his, “Can you help?”

“I couldn’t tell you no if I tried.  What do you need?”

Enasal slumped down in her chair, “So… elves take certain matters really seriously.  Like, you would never even joke about it seriously.”

“Okay, but which of those matters are we dealing with?”

Shiral eased herself into a nearby chair and watched the exchange in silence.

“This man… might have asked me to bond with him.”  She worried her hands, “You know, marry him.”

“Ah!”  Varric laughed, “I see the problem. I didn’t think you knew anyone outside your sister and your grandmother.”

“I met him at Arlathvhen.”  Enasal said, “It was ten years ago and I happened to take a class with him.”

Varric chuckled and pulled out some paper, “Tale as old as time.  I meet him for a few hours and now he wants to marry me.”

“It's not funny.”  Enasal said.

His expression softened, “You’re right, I got carried away.  Since you’re frowning pretty hard, I’m guessing it’s a no.”

Enasal nodded.

“Good!”  Varric laughed, “That’ll make Curly happy.”

“Curly?”  Shiral asked.

“Anyway!”  Enasal said, “I really, really need you to help me find the nicest way of saying ‘no’.”

“Let me see what I can think up.”  He said, looking up at Shiral as he wrote, “The infamous Shiral.  Goddess of our Seastorm’s heart.”  He laughed, “I’m sorry, I just can’t get over how much you look alike.”

He was right.  They were different heights and Enasal’s skin was much more sun-kissed and freckled, but overall they were alarmingly identical.

Shiral looked away and shrugged.

“I can’t remember.”  Enasal said, leaned forward to her sister, “Grandmother used to say we looked just like… our father, right?”

“You do.”  Shiral said, “I only got his hair.”  She didn’t look up, “You’re just like him.  What I can remember about him, you’re a perfect copy.”

Enasal’s cheeks turned pink and she laughed.

“Alright, Seastorm, how does this sound?”  He sat straight and cleared his throat dramatically, “Dearest Enasal-Did-Not-Tell-Me-Your-Name.  It is with a heavy heart that I must reject your proposal. This decision bears no ill will towards you, but my heart must stay firmly in my chest as I attend to current matters.”

  He grinned and poked Enasal in the ribs so she squeaked in protest. “Sound good?  Slipped a little lie in there for you.”  

Shiral watch the display without a single blink, “Retter.  The boy’s name is Retter.”

Varric chuckled, “Dearest Retter-”

“Maybe not ‘dearest.’”  Enasal said, “A little more…”  She snapped her fingers.

“Formal?”  Varric asked.

“Yes, that.” 

“‘Dear Retter’ it is.”  He shuffled his papers, “You want to try?  Your handwriting is getting better.”

Enasal considered for a few seconds before taking the pen from him.  She was fully engrossed in seconds, staring at Varric’s draft and carefully copying each pen stroke.

Shiral was looking at her sister with a half-opened mouth, “Enasal… you can write?”

“Kind of?”  Enasal said, eyes trained on her task.

Varric leaned forward, “Slow down and watch what you’re doing.  One letter at a time.”  He looked back at Shiral, “She can read too. Still struggles, but she’s getting there.”

“But she can’t-”  Shiral started, “She’s not…”  She looked at Enasal, “How did you learn to read?”

“Well,”  Enasal began, “Solas tried to teach - oh you have to meet Solas!”

Varric chuckled as he pulled out a new pen and started writing the final copy of Enasal’s letter.  She might as well have already been out of the building with her attention span.

Shiral held her hands up, “Slow down, who is Solas?”

“My teacher!”  Enasal chirped.

“Your…”  Enasal was shaking her head again, “Teacher?  How did you get a teacher, we’re the only clan that does that!”

Enasal shook her head, “Solas says they did that where he was from.”

Varric caught Enasals eye and pointed to Shiral, “Seastorm, I think your sister’s feeling a little overwhelmed - remember what it was like when you first got here?”

“Shiral, I’m sorry!”  Enasal got up and took her sister’s head, “You can stay in my room until they find one for you.  I think we have a few left near me so we could be close.  You’ll sleep with me ‘till then.”

Shiral was still shaking her head, “You said you didn’t want one, like me.”  

Varric switched topics, “I’ll gather the group, Seastorm, you worry about your sister.  Meet back here at six.” He nodded to Shiral, “And if someone comes to take you to talk with Enasal's advisors, don’t worry.  They do that with everyone she recruits.”

“I’m not a recruit!”  Shiral said, snapping her head around to look at him, “I’m her sister!”

Varric held up his hands in a surrendering motion, “Noted.  They’re still going to call you though, so go ahead and start preparing yourself for that.”

Enasal nodded, “They’re really nice, Shiral! You don’t have anything to worry about, they’ll adore you!”

“I’m sure we all will.” Varric lied.

Vote for Enasal’s Winter Palace getup:  https://www.opinionstage.com/enasallavellan/what-should-enasal-wear-to-the-winter-palace

Read the entire work on a03 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/25803535?view_full_work=true

@mauvette268

[enasallavellan]

Enasal Lavellan Pt: 55

A really short one today featuring Enasal’s sister, Shiral.

I couldn’t really figure out a good way to link it with the chapters between, so I just gave it its own little chapter.

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Shiral let loose another arrow, felling the fox as it attempted to flee. 

She picked it up by its over-sized ear and returned to the small fire she had started.  Enasal would have shouted and jumped and caused so much of a commotion that they would have been done hunting for the day.

Enasal was a terrible hunter.  No stealth, no tact, just pure and overzealous reaction.

How in the world was she faring leading an army?

It made no sense - none.  Enasal had never even been in a real fight.  Granted, when their clan set up in a spot for long enough, her little sister would fashion together some sort of dummy to practice fighting with her blades.  But a real, breathing thing?  Even on her successfull hunts, it had been dumb luck.  

No arrows for her though, because blades are just ‘so neat!’.  

Every time she thought of that, the guilt came creeping back.

Enasal, so bright with hope and excitement, bouncing back towards the edge of their clan after a long day of Arlathvhen activities - of being able to meet and talk with her own people for the first time she could remember.  They gave little trinkets to teenagers Enasal’s age, little things that said “I was good at this!”  

Her baby sister had returned, clinking with trinkets and wielding blades.  She had shown Shiral what she had learned into the circle group.  The teacher had been impressed with her, and his son more so.  

So much, Enasal had told her, that he had given her his own blades as a gift.

A boy had given them to her.

Shiral had screamed at her.  

Why would you take a present from a boy?

Never take a present from a boy!

What is wrong with you?

Are you stupid?

Enasal, no, I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry!  Please stop crying, they’re good blades!  Look how many things you won!  I’m sorry, I was worried, I just love you, I don’t want anything to happen to you!

Their grandmother scolded her for it, said she had been cruel to ruin something so special.  Enasal had been so young during the last Arlathvhen that she had spent most of it clasping their grandmother’s hand, too small and delicate to warrant being let loose with the other children.

The other Keepers laughed and patted Enasal’s head.  At first she cried at the unfamiliar touch, but later seemed so keen on that same approval that she would hop up and down around them, show them little tricks a child could do, just for a kind word.

And they loved her.  She sang rhymes and poetry and they fawned over the child with the pretty voice and sudden wild spirit.  The other Keeper’s approval had made their own clan upset.  

“How could the child bound by Fen’Harel, be any good to the other Keepers, don’t they see it?”

After that, Enasal was deemed old enough to fully serve her sentence.

For a week, nothing but crying came from the back of the clan and if anyone helped, they received a harsh reminder of the new rules.

For nearly all things, the clan went to their Keeper - her grandmother.

But when it came to Enasal, they went to her grandmother's second.

It shouldn’t have happened - an entire clan overriding a keeper over such a horrible matter.  Sentencing an infant to banishment, and ripping a girl barely five years old from her grandmother’s arms.

Someone should have stopped it.

Their Keeper should have stopped it.

Everyone called her sister da’fen’harel, and yet her grandmother let it happen.

Shiral would never forgive her.