#solas x sarya lavellan

[bearlytolerant]

Fandom: Dragon Age

Pairing: Solavellan

Rating: E (nsft)

Word Count: 1306

AO3

Let’s Just Be

She was sunset reflected on the ocean. A million freckles dotting blushed warm skin. Eyes closed in peaceful paradise as her arms draped over the edges of the tub. She exuded serenity and peace.

He hated to disturb her.

Setting his satchel down, he went to her desk where he knew she kept a sketch journal and charcoal. Situating himself on the bed, he started his sketch, replicating this moment on paper. She had to see how he saw her. Within moments her form was outlined and he filled in the details, losing himself in the process of creating.

His eyes drifted to his muse, desperate for a quick but thorough study. She dropped an arm back into the tub but her eyes remained closed—surely she was somewhere far from here—but then he watched as her lips pursed, let out a puff of breath. And a gentle moan. It dawned on him that he was now a spectator of more than a moment of meditation.

Solas dropped the charcoal and it went rolling across the floor, stopping at the edge of the elegant rug recently given as a gift from the Empress.

Her eyes flew open.

“Damn it Solas! Next time you sneak in here, please say something.”

He went chasing after the charcoal on his hands and knees. “My apologies. In my defense, the door was ajar and I was not sneaking.”

“What were you doing?” Sarya asked.

He had the charcoal now and he was up on his feet, walking back to the bed.

“Sketching you. I hope you don’t mind.”

“No. Not at all. I was just startled.” She smirked, her mood shifting, becoming playful. “Should I pose? Did you capture my best side?”

He chuckled. “No posing. The moment is lost now and I always capture your best side in that every side of you, every inch of you, is best.” He abandoned the sketch for a kiss from her lips. “You know I think you are beautiful. But if you don’t mind me being honest, I’m more interested in that moan I heard.”

“Everything has been so stressful. I deserve a little release,” she said.

“I can help with that,” he said, reaching into the steaming water. He skimmed his fingers down her leg and back up her inner thigh. “Would you like to talk about it?” His hand stilled.

“Talk? Maybe later, I’ve had enough talking. There is so much endless talking in that war room. Besides, I am also perfectly capable of helping myself.”

“Is that what you want?”

“From what I heard, it seems to also be what you want.”

“Either or both ideas appeal to me,” Solas said. “But I am not here for me.”

Sarya tilted her head and smirked at him.

“However, perhaps it would be nice for you to be relieved of any sort of duty altogether? Allow me to take care of you.”

“Oh I would hardly call this duty.” She laughed. “You could use a little relaxation though too. Join me?”

He pressed a plush kiss to her neck and she tilted away, exposing more skin and he kissed a path up to her jawline. Found her lips. Melted into her bliss. They made out for a while, even as Solas’ knees began to numb a little, until he needed to shift. He broke away leaving them both breathless. He quickly stripped and joined her, finding space for his legs around her body.

She held back a chuckle as they situated themselves, splashing water over the sides of the tub. “I guess these weren’t made with two people in mind…”

“Perhaps you should request an upgrade?” Solas picked up one of her feet and began massaging.

“Oh sure, I bet that’s easy to get.” Sarya rolled her eyes. But then hummed a pleasurable sigh.

“Maybe Blackwall would be willing to custom build one. Anything for his Herald.”

“Stop.”

He put her foot back in the water.

“No. Not that. Please keep doing that.”

He allowed himself a small laugh as he found her other foot. It was easy to be himself with her.

“I’m surprised you can’t just use some spell to make this tub bigger.”

“That is not how magic works.”

“Isn’t it though? Can’t you do anything your mind thinks of? I’d make a big tub if I had magic. I’d use magic to just make everything big. Giant cupcakes. Giant horses. Giant nugs… but not spiders. I’d use my magic to shrink them all to tiny invisible things.”

“If they were invisible, how would you know if one was on you?”

She shuddered. “Good point. I rescind my statement. I would just use magic to take spiders out of existence.”

“Ah but spiders are good for catching other foul insects. They are helpful creatures and they rarely harm.”

“Fine. I’ll keep them for you. But they’re creepy so I’m still using magic to make them tiny.”

“What else would you use magic for?” he asks as he kisses her ankle.

“I’d use it to do everything for me. No need to get dressed. Just poof and clothes are on. I could make any dress I wanted and any food. I could make myself taller or shorter. I don’t know, anything and everything I could think of. Why don’t you use your magic for everything?”

“Much the same as you do not fight or run or loose arrows all day long for lack of stamina. All that spell casting would drain my mana. If I use magic for everything, how would I protect you when it matters most?”

“I protect myself,” she said.

“Yes but in the rare case, like with that terror demon near Dennett’s farm, I could be useful to you.”

Sarya sighed. “Fine. I concede.”

“Perhaps I should record this day in the books.”

“And why is that?”

“I won an argument.”

“Oh you could hardly call this arguing.” She splashed him with water.

Solas smirked then lit the water up with a rune that created a wave. It rolled up and soaked Sarya’s entire face.

“Oh no–that is it!” She splashed him again and again, water continuously pouring over the edges.

He chuckled and reached forward, stilling her hands and pulling her into himself. He kissed her cheek. She cupped his face, kissing him long and deep and hard as she settled into his lap. Her hands wandered and he choked back a gasp as she rubbed herself on the tip of his cock. He could not withhold the groan though as she sunk on top of him, head rolling back with a sigh as her hand clung to his shoulder.

She was so beautiful like this. Open and pouring herself out. Letting him in. Reveling in the moment without a promise of tomorrow. Or perhaps a promise that tomorrow will be there and they’ll have each other to make it better.

He bent forward to nip at her neck and she laughed then moaned when he squeezed her ass.

“Again,” she demanded.

He obliged, more than happy to. When he did, her palm pressed flat against his chest and she leaned back, lengthening her body and exposing the scars on her chest and stomach. He kissed them. Each and every one while she rode him to her climax. She crumbled into him, chest heaving and heavy.

“Ar lath, ma vhenan,” he whispered as he pressed his lips to her forehead.

“I know,” she breathed. “I love you too.”

Then he held her close to his chest, combing his fingers through her wet hair. Warmed the water and let time slip away with her in his arms. And it was in those pockets of time that he felt peace. That maybe, just maybe, this world he had made was real and it was the better one.

[sarya-lavellan]

Take Me

Fandom: Dragon Age/Modern AU

Pairing: Solavellan

Rating: E

Word Count: 2158

Tags: cunnilingus, some dom/sub play, some body worship, they both have a praise kink

AO3

—

She twists the ring on her finger. The light glints off the large square sapphire lined with tiny diamonds. Glancing around her before she enters the hotel bar, she yanks her ring off and deposits it in the front pocket of her purse. She tosses her flaming curls over her shoulder and smoothes her white blouse, undoing an extra button before throwing open the lounge door. She slips in unnoticed. Wanders over to the soft light of the bar, sticking to the shadowed end farthest from the restroom. As she waits for the bartender to make her way over, she checks her makeup in her compact. She touches up her deep burgundy lipstick, snaps her compact closed, then smiles up at the bartender.

“I’ll have a whiskey, neat.”

The bartender smiles that fake smile of every worker who’s had enough, does. “Coming right up.”

“Thank you,” she says.

Swiveling in her stool, she folds one leg over the other and surveys the room. Her eyes fall on the man playing piano. He’s seemingly lost in the enchanting melody coming off his fingertips. His tall frame sways with the tune and she watches, mesmerized. He finishes the piece and she gives a small clap. Catching her gaze as he stands, he grants her an alluring smile before coming her way.

“That was beautiful,” she tells him.

“Surely not as beautiful as you.”

Her cheeks feel warm. “You flatter me.”

“I am merely stating the truth.”

“Merely?”

“Declaring it then.”

She smirks. Her heart is already thrumming wildly. He’s good. She’ll give him some credit for that. “I’m Sarya,” she offers her hand.

He takes it, suavely planting a kiss on her knuckles.

“Solas.”

She shivers under his silky intonation and his undivided attention. Then he drops her hand and she curls her manicured fingers around her glass. Sarya takes a sip from her drink as the bartender returns. There’s a part of her that wishes she’d asked for something chilled.

“I will have the same as her,” he says.

Sarya adds, “put it on my tab.”

“Sure thing,” the bartender throws her a wink and a dazzling smile.

Sarya runs a finger round the rim of her glass. Leans in towards Solas as he does the same, knees bumping into one another.

“I do not believe I have seen you here before.”

She’s trying not to think about his knee against hers or the way his lips are so close. But he’s gorgeous in that nonchalant way. The more you stare, the more his attractiveness reveals itself. The smallest dimple in his chin. The faint freckles scattered across his face and the mysterious scar above his brow that only appears when the light hits it just so. The angle of his jaw and perfect pillowy lips. Even his baldness suits him, juxtaposed with all his angles.

“What if I told you I was a regular?”

“Then you must not frequent at this hour.”

“Why do you say that?”

His hand comes to rest on her knee as he leans even closer. Whispers in her ear. “I would have noticed long before tonight.”

“Well, I–“ She clears her throat, downs her shot. At least now she can blame the burn on the alcohol and not his touch.

“Are you staying here?” he asks.

The bartender sets his glass down before him. Refills Sarya’s glass. “Thank you.” There’s a nod before the bartender takes off for a man waving her down at the other end.

“I am,” Sarya says. “I’m here on business.” She can’t stop staring into his eyes. The way he listens when she speaks. The way he makes her feel wanted. “Would you like to accompany me to my room?”

“Yes,” he says and she finishes her drink. “Room 501. Meet me in ten.” She slides her extra keycard over to him. Then she leaves more than enough cash for their drinks and a tip and sashays out of the room.

—

There’s a knock and the door opens.

“I see you found the room easy enough.” Sarya doesn’t bother to tie her silken robes, allowing him to drink in the sight of her. She wears a matching set of soft pink lace which reveals more than enough. He wants her naked already anyway.

“I did.” The door closes with a hushed click behind him.

He doesn’t hesitate at the door. He has no shame, no shyness, only cool confidence. She takes one, then two steps forward. Meets him in the middle of the room and hooks her fingers around his tie, thumb skimming along silk as she gives a tug. He doesn’t stumble. He’s all too familiar with following the lead. He’s maybe an inch away from her lips, his breath laced with alcohol.

“Perhaps I should wait until we’re both sober.”

She releases the tie. One step backward.

“No. I know what I’m doing. So long as you consent and still want the same thing?”

“Yes. Yes I want this. Though I should be honest…”

His expression remains unchanged. Patient.

“I’m a married woman.”

“And for me to judge you would make me a hypocrite.”

He closes the distance between them once again.

“I see,” she whispers.

“What do you require of me–Sarya?”

“For you to touch me. To adore me. To–“ She doesn’t get the chance to finish her words. His lips are on hers and his hands are greedy, grasping for every inch of exposed skin.

She shimmies out of her robe then her fingers work at his tie. They’re a mess of frenzied kisses and erratic breaths as she tries to yank off his shirt. But it gets a little stuck and they both chuckle as he has to do it for her.

“It’s always a seamless transition to being naked in the movies. Sadly I’ve never mastered the same flawlessness.”

“It’s movie magic,” he tells her.

Then he pushes the robe off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.

His eyes roam over her body. And she almost covers her stomach where it sags and the stretch marks branch out in white lines. It’s good that she doesn’t or he’d have to yank her hands away. He wants to be gentle. She blushes under his gaze. So pretty and so pink. But Solas doesn’t look at her like those lines are some kind of failing on her part. No, they are a part of her beauty and what defines her as well, her. Instead, he kneels before her and kisses just below her breasts and all across her stomach. His hands slide up her back, fingers feeling for her bra clasp. The pressure of the elastic releases and her breasts spill from the bottom before his fingers rake down her arms and remove the damned thing altogether.

His hand cups one of them and he takes a singular nipple between his teeth. A nibble, a lick and he draws one into his mouth then lets it fall out, admiring the small bounce before stilling against her chest. Both her nipples are hard now, though he’s only tasted the one.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmurs as his gaze flicks back to her face. Then he takes the neglected breast in hand, lavishing it with just as much attention. Making sure to show no favoritism.

“What does that mean?” she asks. “When you say that?”

He stops what he’s doing to take her chin in hand. Searches those ocean blue eyes of her. “It means I am in awe of you. I could get lost in the visual worship of you–that your image is burned into my memory and whenever I am hopeless, I can remember that you exist and I had the privilege of dwelling within your existence.”

“Well–fuck.” Her hands cling to his neck and she tugs him forcefully to her lips.

He pushes away. Licks his lips. “Sarya?”

“Hmm?”

“May I have the pleasure of tasting you?”

“You can have the pleasure of doing whatever the fuck you want to me so long as praise keeps falling from your lips.”

He chuckles. Then removes her lace thong. His hand trails down her stomach, down past her curly thatch of hair and his fingers are spreading her folds and—he hesitates. Glances back up to see her swallow. Relishes in her anticipatory gaze. Her eyes look heavy beneath her lashes. Full of such longing and impatience. Then she groans as he dips his chin between her legs and licks in long languid strokes.

“Do you like this or–“ he switches to a circular motion with his tongue, “this?”

“That–definitely that,” she murmurs.

He buries himself in her. Surrounds himself in her scent. Succumbs to her flavor and loses himself to those delightful sounds she’s making. She’s close, he can tell and it’s his cue to slide one finger inside.

“More,” she demands.

Of course he obliges with a second finger. Curls them together and he gasps when she grasps the tip of his ears.

“Faster,” she says. “Gods I’m almost–“ She cuts her own words off with a whimper as he brings her over the precipice. Then tips her over the edge.

He pulls back, wiping her slick from his mouth with the back of his hand. Then he looks up to her as she releases his ears. Kneels down before him and grabs each side of his face, nearly tackling him to the ground, flooding him with kisses and touches.

With his back against the floor, each of her legs straddles him and she’s got one hand wrapped around his cock while the other digs into his shoulder. He slips inside so easily and she rides him with a pace that he’s not sure he can keep up with.

“Sarya–fuck–I’m–“

“Not yet, Solas. Don’t come for me yet. Hold up just a little longer. Can you do that for me?”

“Mmm, yes,” he groans. And he doesn’t think it’s a lie.

She loses herself and he watches. Those orange curls flopping around just above her breasts. Open and arched and exposed for him. And she is everything–everything like this.

“So beautiful,” he finds himself muttering over and over. If he focuses on the words, he can maintain the control she needs.

But then she cups his balls and– “come for me. Come for me now, Solas.”

He is nothing but at the mercy of her command. He lets out a shattering cry and spends himself inside her. The way she clenches and squeezes, sends him spiraling in an overload of sensation.

“Good boy,” she says to him then kisses him again. Hard and soft at the same time. And he wants more of this–more of her.

Eventually she slides off and helps him to his feet, dragging him to bed for another go. And then another.

It’s hours before the lights are turned off and they are tangled together for sleep.

“That was fun,” she says curled up against his chest.

“Yeah? I thought so too. You played your part well.”

“Thanks. So did you.” She pauses.

“Hmm–I sense some critique is coming.”

“Not about you! Mmm no, you–you were wonderful. Especially all those smooth lines. Reminds me that you’d get me in bed every time.” She glances up at him to see his smug smirk and it makes her smile too. “I just–do you think it was believable?”

“I think we may have fooled the bartender.”

“I don’t think the bartender gave a shit about us,” Sarya says with a laugh and Solas kisses her head.

“I think the most unbelievable aspect was that you trusted me so quickly and left me with your keycard minutes after we had supposedly just met.”

“Damn.” She lets out a disappointed huff of breath. “You’re right. Can’t say my greatest skills are in acting. Was probably weird we didn’t go up together too. Oh and we missed some fun opportunities! Like making out in the hallway a little? Or getting handsy in the elevator?” Her fingers trail down his chest.

“I suppose we will simply have to try that out next time.”

“Guess so.” She kisses his chest then. “Mmm. Can I admit something?”

“Of course.”

“I miss our kids.”

He chuckles. “Me too, vhenan. I think that is a good thing.”

“But I also like this. It was so nice to be loud and not be half worried the whole time.”

“I agree.” Solas gently combs his fingers through the curls splayed out on the pillow.

Sarya snuggles in closer, lifting her head to meet his loving gaze. She kisses him deeply. When they finally part, too tired to keep it going, she happily sighs.

“Ar lath ma, vhenan,” Solas says in a sleepy hush.

She lets out a small yawn. “I love you too. So much.”

[thevikingwoman]

January Reading

So I am super late with this, and I apologize. The start of the year has been strange for me, I still feel like i’m getting my bearings. 

I have no published novels read, I’ve not been into the one I’m halfway through to sit down and finish it. 

as always, check out my reading tag, viking reads.

Long Fanfic (completed)

Reckoning by @buttsonthebeach [Solavellan, OCxOC, explicit and mature themes]

It is no secret how much I love Beach’s writing and how much I love this story. This was an amazing emotional journey. This story takes picks up where Awakened ends (read both fics) and explores a world where Ellana Lavellan and Solas has created a new nation for the elves, where at some point, it goes as well as you would expect in Thedas (spoiler: Orlesians are assholes). The story is a political drama, a family drama, a character development story, an exploration of sadness and relief. It focuses heavily on Solas and Ellana’s daughter Ashara, whose struggles and triumphs I felt keenly. 

The story is a superbly paced, a perfect balance between drama and politics and character development. By the end, I cried with happiness and sadness and relief. I don’t have enough words to describe how good this is. 

One of the best pieces of fanfic I have ever read. 

Short Fanfic Highlights

Wicked Grace by @apostatetabris [Josephine x Solas, teen]

so this ship is a thing, and I am on it. This was a great little piece exploring some flirtation, I loved the crispness of this. 

the naughty list, part 2 by @ellstersmash [Solas x Lavellan, explicit]

Unnghghg a great part 2 of this modern AU, Solas and Athi being naughty at a holiday party. Very sexy. 

Honey by @bearly-tolerable [Solas x Lavellan, gen]

Circus AU! I love this date, very cute and lovely. I love the connection between Solas and Sarya. 

Da’vhenan by @redinkofshame [Solas x Lavellan, teen (?)] 

Modern baby AU. I love how they are dancing around each other here, the dialogue is great. This piece was tender and vulnerable, and gripped my heart. 

[bearlytolerant]

Fandom: Dragon Age

Pairing: Solavellan

Chapter Rating: T

Chapter WC: 1765

AO3

Chapter 3

“Oh. No, no, no, no.” The voice wavers.

“Oh shit. Shit, I’m so sorry,” Mary-Beth says though she’s not sure who she’s apologizing to.

“It’s okay. Just—let me handle the cleanup.”

It’s then that the voice reveals a phantasmagoric shape. A woman. As Mary-Beth looks into the woman’s eyes, colors begin to appear and this woman is a reflection of herself. There’s a few minor differences here and there. She’s an elf. But the features are so similar. Blue eyes reflecting sun on the ocean, fiery red hair, freckles everywhere, curvy shape and broader shoulders. Even the height is the exact same.

“Who—who are you?”

“Ah, yes. I forgot I haven’t properly introduced myself. The name’s Sarya. Sarya of Clan Lavellan.”

“I’m Mary-Beth Trevelyan.” She pauses, eyes roaming over the woman. “Not to be rude but are you a ghost?”

“I find that term offensive though subjective. I’m closer to a spirit.”

“Oh. So a demon?”

Sarya sighs. “Again. Offensive. You’d think after all these years there would be some better education on the subject. Especially all that I—you know what, never mind.” She sweeps the remainder of the shattered crystal into a dustpan and discards it in the waste bin.

“The elven man here, he warned me not to come up to this room. Are you the reason why? You haunt this place?”

“First of all, I’m not haunting anything. And elven man—oh you mean Solas?”

“Solas—is that his name?”

“Was he tall, bald—“

“Yes.”

“Then yeah. That’s Solas. And maybe? I haven’t seen him enter this room in well, a thousand years? Perhaps longer.”

“You’ve been here for a thousand years?”

“Or longer.”

“How? Why?”

“If I’m completely honest, I don’t know. I have my theories. But nothing solid. I was hoping, by revealing myself, that you could help me find out. You did break one of my most treasured possessions after all. Would only be fair for you to help me out.”

Mary-Beth is more focused on the first half of the ghost’s rambling. “You’ve been here for a thousand years and you don’t know why? How is that possible?”

“I haven’t been able to leave this room. Solas knows I’m here, I’m sure of it. He has to know why. But I can’t ask him.”

Mary-Beth pushes some paperwork out of the way and plops down on the edge of the desk. “So why do you think I could help?”

“You’re not bound to this room. You can ask him for me.”

“And why do you think Solas can help?”

Sarya says, “Once upon a time we were the stars of a great love that burned bright. But then burned out.”

Mary-Beth can’t tell if the ghost is being sarcastic or serious but she continues to listen.

“The details are complicated and messy and really not necessary. He’s a mage and one that specializes in all things involving spirits and the fade.”

“Oh, he’s the one in the letter. That means—wait. He’s thousands of years old?”

Sarya sighs. “Yes. He’s very old.”

“And you’re in love with him.”

“Was. Was in love with him.”

“Your letter tells me otherwise.”

“That letter is something I never sent. I married Cullen, had a child, and lived a full and pleasant life. Of course, the magic of the anchor took me sooner than I would’ve liked. But I learned to love life without him.”

“Maybe he never learned to live life without you…”

Sarya gestures to herself. “You think?”

“Okay, say I believe all this ridiculous stuff you’re telling me and I go to Solas, what am I supposed to say? Hey, your girlfriend is trapped in the tower, do you have something to do with that?”

“Leave out the girlfriend bit and I fail to see the problem with that phrasing.”

Mary-Beth chuckles. “Well, something tells me the Solas you know is very different from the one I know. The man hates me.”

“Doubtful.”

Mary-Beth shakes her head then shifts her weight and leans forward. “Okay. So, how do I know you’re not a demon? That I can trust you?”

Sarya shrugs. “You don’t.”

“That’s not very convincing.”

“That should tell you something. I don’t know about you but most demons I meet always have a convincing sales pitch. Perhaps you should try trusting yourself? Go with your gut instinct.”

Mary-Beth twirls a lock of hair around her finger and chews at the inside of her cheek.

How can she trust her instincts when time and again, her instincts have led her from one toxic relationship to another? Self-sabotage at every turn and she’s just supposed to trust her gut? She sighs. She can help the ghost—spirit—whatever woman. She can try anyway. The worst thing that could happen is what? Permanent possession? Death? Though, from the looks of it, death isn’t even a permanent state. Meanwhile, the alternative offers hope and help to a spirit who longs for peace and deserves rest.

Sarya organizes the letters on her desk while humming to herself.

“Alright,” Mary-Beth says. “I'm going to trust you. Probably with more than I should but you want me to leave this room and talk to Solas, correct?”

“Yes,” Sarya says.

“And spirits, similar to demons, can possess a person, correct?”

“Not exactly possession. More like form a symbiotic bond.”

“Yeah that sounds like a fancier version of possession.”

“As much as I enjoy arguing over technicalities, I’d rather not continue to waste time. It’s not possession. I have no desire to use your body to stay in this world. I want to move on.”

“Okay. Okay.” Mary-Beth shrugs, surrendering. “Well, what if we do that? Form a symbiotic bond or whatever. Then you can wander any part of the castle you want and speak with Solas. He’d probably be more receptive to your presence than mine. You’d find your answer of why you're here then he can fix the problem.You finally get peace and I’ll hopefully be able to leave this castle. We’ll part ways and have our happy ending.”

Sarya nods. “Yes. I can see it. Though, you want me to form a bond with you even though, not even a minute ago, you weren’t even sure if you could trust me? Interesting.”

“I know what it sounds like. But if you’re telling the truth—which I’m choosing to believe you are—then your bond will break as soon as you can rest. Seems simple.”

“I see your point. Though I’m still judging you.”

“That’s nothing new for me,” Mary-Beth says.

“Well, then I agree.”

“Okay, great.” Mary-Beth smiles. “Just one last thing. We need to get this done quickly. I would like to enjoy what remains of my vacation.”

“You’re supposed to be on a vacation?”

“Yeah. In Haven. But I got lost.”

“You sure did. Unfortunate for you but fortunate for me.” Sarya comes around the desk to stand in front of Mary-Beth. “Very well. I’m more than happy to get this over with as you say and I’ll even sweeten the pot, make sure you don’t leave before you have the proper directions to Haven. Deal?”

Mary-Beth grins and holds out a hand. “Deal.”

“Shall we begin?”

Sliding down from the desk, Mary-Beth lays her hands in Sarya’s outstretched palms.“Yeah. What do I need to do?”

“Close your eyes. This might feel a little strange. I don’t know, though, I’ve never done this before so bear with me.”

She closes her eyes and waits but doesn’t feel a single thing. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

“It’s done,” Sarya’s voice is her own.

“That was much quicker and easier than expected. Please no funny business while you’re in there.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Sarya says.

“Okay. We’re off to find Solas then.” Sarya in the body of Mary-Beth, takes off down the stairs, her heart feeling lighter. But there’s another, deeper, sinking feeling that works its way into her stomach. She shrugs it off and she searches the castle for Solas, finding him in the library tucked away in the lower recesses of the castle.

—

“Solas?”

Lying the dusty book down on the table, he turns at his name, not uttered in thousands of years. How Mary-Beth came to know it, he has no idea. But he’s determined to find out.

“How did you–“ But the answer becomes clear as he focuses on her face. He sees it. Feels it. The likenesses therein. It’s the way she runs her finger above her lip, along the invisible scar that isn’t on this body but was on her own. “Sarya?”

Tears are brimming in her eyes as she steps closer, reaching out and placing her hand to his face.

“I have waited so long for you to see me. I’ve never left you,” she tells him.

There’s moisture in his own eyes as he takes her in his arms. Impossible to resist holding her once more. “You should have left me. You should not be here.”

“How can a mortal rest when her heart belongs to a god?”

Solas pulls her into his chest. His heart throbs wildly, whether from joy or pain or the inescapable reality of none of this being real, he doesn’t know. But he holds tight, just long enough to feel the warmth of her body. Enough to feed his starved soul. He pulls away, gripping her by the shoulders to look at her. It isn’t Sarya he sees. Sarya’s spirit, though rare and marvelous, is not the same in the body of another. It does not belong here.

But it has been so long. Though not exactly the same, he can fool himself into believing it’s her. There’s just enough of her. He could have it all.

One touch. One kiss. One last time together.

“This cannot be. It is not right,” he tells her, his sense returned to him.

“But it is. Mary-Beth and I, we made an agreement.”

“No. No.” Solas shakes his head. “You are not Sarya. You cannot be. A demon, I presume.”

“Solas,” she whispers through pained sobs. “I am me. Please, don’t keep doing this. Don’t rationalize me away!”

“Begone from me, demon!” he shouts at her.

Sarya, in Mary-Beth’s body, trembles. “Solas, please,” she begs. “Don’t do this. Don’t do this to me again.”

“Go,” he demands, casting dispel.

There is a gentle gust of wind that sweeps around him before Mary-Beth faints. He crumples to his knees, embracing her in his arms and combing her hair behind her ears. He sobs in quiet agony then gathers the strength to carry her to the rotunda.

[bearlytolerant]

Fandom: Dragon Age

Pairing: Solavellan

Rating: T

Word Count: 7,514

Status: Complete

Summary:

A young woman just wants a vacation from her hectic life but ends up lost. Finding herself amidst a magically preserved fortress, her good intentions turn against her and she signs up for far more than she bargained for.

Read complete story on:

AO3

[bearlytolerant]

Fandom: Dragon Age

Pairing: Solavellan (Modern AU)

Ch Rating: T

Ch WC: 2169

AO3

Chapter 7

Another day at the office. Editing, emails and the ever elusive caller that enables equal opportunities for playing phone tag. A game Solas never enjoys participating in. The morning slides by and Varric is at his desk, twirling his keys around his finger.

“Lunch?”

Solas glances up and sighs. “I’m trying to get a hold of Seeker Pentaghast. Sera said she had more info on an agent that might have a lead on Crystal Red.”

“That sounds like a lot of maybes and probablys and a whole lot of I don’t give a fuck. You’re allowed to take a break and get some lunch.”

“What if they call while I’m away?”

“They can leave a message. Now let’s get out of here before we don’t have any time at all for food.”

Solas shoves back his chair and follows Varric. “I did pack a lunch today,” he mentions.

“Save it for tomorrow then. I’m craving some street tacos and there’s a truck just up the road. I’ll buy so you don’t have to worry about it.”

“I am less concerned about finances and more concerned about getting food from a truck.”

“Ah, live a little Chuckles,” Varric says as he gives Solas a whack on the back.

“If living a little, as you say, means spending two days on the toilet. Perhaps I do not wish to live a little.”

“Well come with me and grab something else. I’m sure there’s something you’d find worthy of your tastes nearby.”

A half hour later and Solas is holding a taco that’s worth the regret he’ll experience from his future self. Some chipotle mayo dribbles down his chin and he swipes it away while pulling out his phone.

He checks his messages. One from Sarya and one from Veda. He taps on the one from Veda first.

Connor went home sick. Pick me up after school today?

He checks the time and swears. How did he not realize he took such a late lunch? She needs to be picked up right now. He dials her number as he stuffs his arms into his coat.

“Veda needs to be picked up,” he tells Varric as he shoves the remainder of his taco in his mouth.

“Got you covered,” Varric replies.

He mumbles a garbled, “thanks” then takes off down the street. Solas is just a block away from his car in the parking garage when she picks up.

“Hey papae!”

“Hello. I apologize. I just now saw your text. I will be late.”

“No worries. I can always watch the band practice until you get here.”

“I will be there soon.”

“Okie doke.”

He says he loves her and hangs up. Sprints the rest of the way down the street, half choking and wishing he’d at least drank some water but makes his way to his little car without incident. He hops inside. Starts it and zooms out of the garage. He’s speeding which has him checking his rear view mirror constantly. But of course, the city has a million stop lights and he hits every red one. He gets to her school later than he ever intended.

He parks, shoving his glasses all the way up his nose, and searches for Veda at the stadium. He spots her in the bleachers, chin resting in her hands and her copper braids coming undone in the breeze. He takes the stairs to meet her two at a time.

“I am so sorry to make you wait,” he says as he wraps her in his arms.

“Seriously, papae. It’s not a problem at all.”

“But what if it had rained? Or stormed like yesterday?”

“I would’ve just stayed inside. Besides, that didn’t happen.”

He sighs, berating himself a little internally. Then he walks with her back to the car. Slides in and clicks his seatbelt in place.

“What’s this?” Veda asks.

Solas glances over at her. She has Sarya’s camera in her hands. He hadn’t even noticed it there. He calmly says, “a camera.”

“Pssh, obviously. But I don’t remember you having a camera.”

“It’s a friend’s,” he says. “We went out for lunch and they must’ve left it.”

“Oh,” she says. “How was work today?” She’s still fiddling with the camera.

“It was work,” he says. Thankfully she easily dropped the subject. “Not much was accomplished.”

She gasps. “Your friend is so pretty. You’ve never mentioned her before. New coworker?”

“No. Just a new friend I met.”

“She looks familiar—and she’s a wonderful photographer. Maybe we should have her take some pictures of us. We haven’t updated our family photos since I was ten.”

“That’s a wonderful idea Veda. However, my friend is only visiting for a short while. I’m not sure there would be enough time to squeeze some family photos in.”

“Bummer. You look so happy around her.”

“I don’t always look happy?”

“You look a different kind of happy with her. It’s nice.”

He takes her words and holds them close to her chest. “Anything interesting happen at school today?”

“Yeah,” she says, then she unloads a multitude of stories. How one of her friends got their tooth knocked out by a basketball in gym. How she accidentally used Elvhen in her Tevene class and didn’t notice until the whole class was just staring at her.

“Did you feel embarrassed?” he asks as they pull into the garage.

“A little. But I mostly found it funny. The way the other kids looked so confused.”

“Does anyone treat you differently when you speak Elvhen?”

She shrugs. “There’s a couple of kids who say stupid things but I don’t hang around them.”

“Veda, I’m happy to speak with the administration if your having trouble with other students—“

“While I appreciate that, I can handle a couple of kids who are jerks.”

“Very well but if you ever—“

“I know.” She slings her backpack in her back then kisses his cheek. “Can I go to Varric’s house? I want to see the cats and hang out with Cole for a bit.”

“Yes, so long as you check with—“

“Already did.” She steps out of the car. “Going to drop my stuff off inside then I’ll see you later.”

“Text me when you want to leave. I’ll pick you up.”

“Okay. See you later, papae.”

Solas sighs. He’s glad she still talks to him and he still gets to see her but there’s also this tiny ache in his chest that misses her always being around the house. But he reminds himself that this is a good thing. It’s just new and he pulls out his phone to read his messages from Sarya.

Hey I’m going to try and stop by your work around 3:15 today.

I stopped by your work but you weren’t there. Saw Varric though! He introduced me to everyone and it was fun! I really like Sera. She’s hilarious! And Merrill was so sweet! Anyway, hopefully I’ll see you sometime soon. 😉

—

“I fold,” Sarya says, she takes a drag from her cigarillo. Then throws her cards face up on the table.

“Already?” Han asks. “What a shame.”

“Your mind must be elsewhere, Sarya. I’ve never known you to throw a game,” Vilanti says as she shows her cards.

Han takes the game and lets out a whoop as he gathers them all to shuffle.

“I still can’t believe Dallen just up and left us. Did he say anything to either of you? About his plans.”

Both of them shake their heads.

“It’s really odd.”

“I don’t know why you care. Easier to keep yourself from using him. Easier for him to be happy this way,” Han says.

“Ouch,” Vilanti grimaces, then gestures for all the cards to be handed over. She shuffles.

“I do agree with that actually. It’s just that most who move on from our happy little family tend to give us more of a notice. We didn’t get to give him a proper goodbye.”

“I don’t mean to sound callous here Sarya, but you were the only one who cared about the guy. Makes sense why he moved on.” Vilanti deals.

Sarya picks up her hand and stares straight through the cards. “That’s not true.”

“Basically,” Han argues. He draws a card.

“Sometimes you both are mean.”

“Not mean. Just honest,” Han says.

Vilanti draws. “On another note, I heard Makon made a new friend today.”

“What?” Sarya nearly drops her cards. “Our Makon? Makon—stoic, quiet, unsociable Makon?”

“Yep. Met her at the gas station. She was passing through on her way to Wycome and her motorcycle broke down. He fixed it up for her on the spot and they exchanged numbers I guess.”

“What the fuck?”

“Good for him,” Han says.

Sarya draws a card. “Yeah, seriously. I hope that works out.”

“Our next gig is in Wycome and he plans to see her then.”

“Was it love at first sight or something?” Sarya asks. She folds and picks her cigarillo back up. Her interest in cards declining by the second.

Vilanti shrugs and plays her cards, taking the game. “By the way he keeps talking about her, I’d say yes.”

“What’s her name,” Han asks, gathering all the cards into a pile.

“Athi. Athi Lavellan.”

“Another Lavellan huh?”

“Guess so. Maybe she’s related to you two,” Vilanti says.

“Doubt it. Or if she is, it’s very distant,” Han says.

In the distance they hear yelling and smashing bottles. They all exchange looks.

“Wonder who the hell set Deshanna off—“

“Let’s go see if we can smooth things over,” Han says with a sigh.

“You two can go. I’ll probably make things worse. I don’t think he likes me much.”

“That’s because you push his buttons. Definitely better for you to stay here,” Han tells her.

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Then she waves at them as they slip out the door and finishes off her cigarillo.

—

It’s dark and quiet and Sarya gazes longingly out the window at a small patch of stars. The only patch not hidden by the clouds. She sighs and startles at the sound of knocking. Straightening herself out, she rubs the redness from her elbows and opens the door.

“Solas,” she says it like she’s expecting him but she’s truly surprised. She steps out with him, shutting the door behind her.

“You forgot your camera,” he tells her, holding it out in his hands.

She takes it from him, hanging it around her neck. “Thank you. I should really start keeping better track of my things or you’re going to start thinking I’m trying to bait you or something.”

“I would bite every time,” he says, his hands clasped behind his back. There’s a certain sparkle in his eye and she can’t read him. But she knows she wants to kiss him. So without another thought, she stretches up on her toes and takes him by surprise. He is frigid and she panics, certain she has misstepped. After all, friends don’t kiss like that.

“I’m sorry,” she says, a little out of breath. “I don’t know what…”

Her words are caught on the edge of his lips as he captures her mouth again. His kiss is unreserved but not what she’d call passionate. Like the kiss of a long time lover. A kiss of promise. Of commitment. Her mind screams at her to let go while simultaneously wishing and longing for more. His leg is pressed into her inner thigh and despite the chill of the air, she’s certain she is on fire. Her nails are in his shoulder, the camera even hurts just a little as it presses into her chest, and she doesn’t mean to let out a moan but it’s too late for regrets as he pushes her against the side of her trailer. One hand above her and the other in her hair. With each breath she steals between kisses, she studies his face. Memorizes it and stores it for always. Freckles for days and the tiniest scar above his brow. The only sign of his age lies in the lines of crows feet near the edges of his eyes and she tells herself to ask if he has a skincare routine. He certainly seems the type.

She studies his closed eyelids, there’s two freckles on the right and a singular small one on the left and she notices that there’s even some red in his brows and wonders if they’d have red headed babies.

She gasps then. Pulls away. Why in the hell is she thinking of babies?

“Perhaps I should…”

“Kiss me again,” she says to him. She won’t let one ridiculous thought ruin the moment. She knows that she’s falling for him. Too fast, too soon but she’s holding on for another day.

When they break apart she doesn’t want him to go. But it’s too much to ask him to stay. So she waves goodbye then clicks her camera, saving the image of him walking away.

[bearlytolerant]

Tagged by @thevikingwoman (thank you my friend and tag backs if you have anything else to share). Also tagging @ellstersmash and @kittlesandbugs 💛

I was actually hit with a random urge to write some modern solas and Sarya so I’ll share some of that.

Swiveling in her stool, she folds one leg over the other and surveys the room. Her eyes fall on the man playing piano. He’s seemingly lost in the enchanting melody coming off his fingertips. His tall frame sways with the tune and she watches, mesmerized. He finishes the piece and she gives a small clap. Catching her gaze as he stands, he grants her an alluring smile before coming her way.

“That was beautiful,” she tells him.

“Surely not as beautiful as you.”

Her cheeks feel warm. “You flatter me.”

“I am merely stating the truth.”

“Merely?”

“Declaring it then.”

She smirks. Her heart is already thrumming wildly. This guy is good. “I’m Sarya,” she offers her hand.

He takes it, suavely planting a kiss on her knuckles.

[sarya-lavellan]

Later in a conversation—

Solas: so you let social media decide for you to kiss me?

Sarya: mmhmm yeah. *types away on her magical doodad device* asking them right now if we should fade fuck.

Solas: I think—

Sarya: they say no. I shouldn’t make it that easy for you.

Solas: I—

Sarya: okay come here and kiss me so I can get a pic

Solas: is this how our relationship is going to be?

Sarya: the price you pay for flirting with an influencer. Now you gonna get over here or what?

Solas:

[sarya-lavellan]

Fandom: Dragon Age

Pairing: Solavellan

Rating: E

Chapter Word Count: 3807

Status: WIP (Chapter 13)

Read on AO3

It was late when she arrived two days after the memorial back in Wycome. The air had grown chillier though still quite comfortable for the time of year. The leaves had just started taking on the hues of red and orange, unlike in Ferelden where they had all just tumbled to the ground, buried instantly in a foot of snow. She picked her way around the docks, replaying memories of Thom until she reached her brother's house. She paused then rapped lightly, waiting to see her son again. The door flung open and Han greeted her with a welcoming grin.

“Back already?” He waved her inside.

“Yeah. I didn’t want to leave you with Ameridan for too long.”

Han sat down in his rocking chair, using his magic to crochet a baby blanket while he whittled away at a tiny bow. His house was cozy and tastefully messy. Filled with all sorts of plants and handmade items tossed about but clean.

“What is all this? Working on some gifts for El?”

“You really are daft sometimes you know that?” Han smirked. “Ameridan is sleeping soundly by the way. He is quite the eater.”

“You know you don’t need to make anything for me. I could just buy it.”

“Or you can accept fine craftsmanship from family as a gift. I want da’fen to always have a piece of his family with him.”

“Already given him nicknames?” She undid her foot wraps and went to him, resting her elbow on the top of the chair.

“What else would you expect from me? He’s the son of the fiercest wolf I know. And I’m not speaking of The Dread Dog.”

She smirked. “I’m not sure about that. Wolves are clever and marvelous beasts.”

She felt like none of those things.

“Need I remind you of your accomplishments?”

“What? How I stumbled, quite literally, into a leadership role. Then was guided by one amazing Josephine Montilyet who should have really been credited for all the Inquisition's best moves and allies?”

“Well I was going to say how you made The Dread Wolf take his place behind you. You achieved that through words. I’d say that’s pretty clever.”

Clever. She laughed inwardly. It wasn’t clever. It was stupid and desperate and a maybe even a little possessive if she wanted to be honest. She took a deep breath and let the thoughts go, they would lead her somewhere she didn’t want to go.

Her brother was too kind. She would allow his compliments to sit with her without disagreement.

“Thank you,” she said.

She wanted to cry. Whether it was the fact that her family had integrated Ameridan into their fold or the fact that her beloved friend had passed or maybe even because one moment she and Solas were attempting to be friends and the next he had rejected her son and recently said that he missed her. She didn’t know. Probably a combination of all of the above. But she threw her arms around Han’s neck and let herself feel. He set the mini bow down in his lap and hugged her back, real tight.

“You didn’t think you were going to do this alone did you?”

She let out a laugh and wiped her eyes. “I was prepared to.”

Han tisked. “Not on the watch of Clan Lavellan. You should know better by now.”

She hugged him tighter.

“I can’t thank you enough.” She snuggled and pulled away.

“Did you see Solas?” Han asked.

She swallowed. Sat down in the chair across from him. She was hoping nobody would ask. Especially Han. “I did. I feel—I don’t know–“ She thought about lying. Wanted to lock all her truths away and lock them up tight. Instead she said, “I feel ashamed.”

“Ashamed?”

“Yes. Not for reasons you would think. I’m not ashamed of choosing Ameridan. But ashamed I had forced Solas’ hand. I am ashamed for not talking to him sooner. For not asking him what he needed or wanted. Before everything that has happened. I am also ashamed that I miss him dearly.”

It was a great weight off her just to say that. Enough to admit it aloud.

He hummed, nodding. He stroked his chin in thought then said, “Why would you be ashamed to miss someone you love?”

“Because I want him back. I want him here.”

“Is that so bad?”

Sarya rocked back and forth watching the blanket come together and then said, “do you remember when we were little and we spent all evening catching fireflies in a jar?”

Han chuckled. “And we brought them inside so we could see them light up our dark room. But you felt bad for them being in a jar so you set them free. I remember Ellana lecturing you until she was blue in the face.”

“Yeah. I remember being so scared mamae would be mad. Especially when some of them had died. But she wasn’t. She explained why nature, no matter how much we love and admire it, is better left alone and admired from afar. Why we should only take what we need and allow it to flourish without our intervention. Better to let what is already free remain that way.”

“Mamae is wise like that,” Han said.

“For some reason that keeps sticking with me.”

“Because you think wanting Solas means you’re keeping him from being free.”

Sarya crossed her arms over her chest. “That’s not–well–I–how did you…”

He threw her a withering look. “You do love to obsess over everything. I happen to know which subject is your current and most frequent.”

She sighed. “I’m tired of it too.”

“I’m not tired of hearing about it or him for that matter. You love him but you’re not sure how it’s supposed to look. I’m more tired for you. Must be exhausting to live in your head.”

“I just feel like it’s better to set him completely free. There’s just too much of our muddied past that gets in the way.”

“When I carve my weapons, in each of them you could find error. Do you think that they are unusable then?”

“Well yeah if the error is something major.”

“Very well. And if that weapon is needed to help the clan would I give them the faulty weapon or would I start anew?”

“Start over of course. But you can’t do that with people!” Sarya cried. “What you carve from your wood has no memory of your mistake.”

Han continued, “But the people receiving the weapon do. Do you think I have never made a weapon that hasn’t been faulty in the hands of a hunter? Papae’s scar on his left forearm is from his staff blade that wasn’t secured properly and fell off while he was casting. It was my fault. He even has the scar to remember that it was me. He could’ve removed me from studying under Master Tawen and I’d never be where I am today unless I had learned from that heart wrenching mistake.”

“And if you’d kept making the mistake, leaving Papae with multiple scars?”

“I would forge a new path for myself, one in which I’m not hurting him. I wouldn’t remove myself from his life.”

“But what if he asked you to leave?”

Han leaned forward in his chair. “Has Solas asked you to stay away from him?”

“Well, no. But maybe he’s afraid to say that.”

This made Han laugh. Sarya was offended that he found it funny. “Not afraid. Just incapable. That stupid man loves you and probably always will.”

“Incapable,” Sarya said. “That’s it. So maybe I should stay away for his own good.”

“Yes, we all saw how good it was for you to stay away,” he said, rolling his eyes. “How was the rotunda by the way?”

Sarya remembered the empty walls. The empty room. The empty air. The emptiness.

She didn’t answer Han.

The magic surrounding the blanket that he was knitting dispersed as it finished and it fell neatly into the basket below. “Look, Sarya, I won’t tell you that you’re soulmates destined to be. Personally I don’t believe in soulmates and people change and even grow apart. You may be bondmates but you’re not bound for eternity. If your heart is truly telling you to let him go then so be it. Your family will be here to support you either way. You want to pursue him? I’ll be happy to support you. You want to let go and grieve? I’ll be here. I will always be here for you. But I will not tell you how to live your life. You must make that decision for yourself.”

Sarya sucked in a breath between her teeth. She never believed in soulmates before and she wasn’t sure if she believed in the concept now. She wanted to. The idea was romantic and sounded somewhat magical. Two people facing the world together, beating everything that tried to break them. Stronger together and all that. That’s what it was supposed to be when two people didn’t keep misfiring at each other.

She had missed Solas while she was at Skyhold and she missed him even now. Every time she looked at her son, she often thought of Solas and how he would parent. How he would look at her, a smile on his face, happy with the name she chose. How he would soothe her anxious mind and rub her tired feet. She thought of how he would constantly feed and carry Ameridan everywhere with him and at the end of the day she’d rub the tension away from his shoulders. She thought of how happy it would make her to hear him call Ameridan theirs. She thought of all the ways they were better together and yet, she knew that her thoughts often didn’t align with her reality. What they could be and what they were seemed entirely too different.

“Do you think he’ll come back?” she asked.

Han bit his lower lip in thought. “Unfortunately, I can’t even pretend to know the answer to that dear sister.”

Sarya sighed.

“Do you want him back?”

“I always do. But it’s unfair. I don’t know how to be with him. Accept him I mean. At least not who he is now. I’m so caught up in our history that I have a hard time seeing our present, let alone what our future could be.”

“Why?” Han asked.

“Why what?”

“Why do you feel you must protect yourself by holding onto the past. What is your worst fear, Sarya?”

Sarya went quiet. “I don’t know,” she finally said. “I’ll think on it. I’m exhausted Han. I’m going to head to bed.” She stopped at the doorway to the room and turned back. “And thank you for this.” She gestured around the room. “For everything.”

He gave her a nod. Picked up the mini bow again. “Goodnight dear sister. Dream well.”

She wandered back to the bedroom where Ameridan’s crib sat in the corner. She peeked over the railing and stroked his little chubby cheek before heading to bed.

Sleep overcame her. And she dreamt of great pain. Multitudes of voices echoing around her. Mouths opened to scream with no words but she felt them–their pain–pooling from a well inside of her and rippling through her. They reached out to her, clawed at her clothes, scratched at her arms. Their faces were melting away and she couldn’t make out who they were. Just knew they were elves by the point of their ears. Desperation was in their eyes.

“What do you need?” she asked. She was turning in circles, searching their faces. But they spoke those ancient words she’d never taken the time to learn. Their hands were on her, pulling her down under water. Plunging her into darkness. Washing her away with sorrows upon sorrows. Solas’ face was there amongst the others and tried to reach out to him. But there was too much chaos.

The scent of death burned in her nostrils and still stung her eyes when she woke in a cold sweat.

“Solas!” she cried. But he wasn’t there and she wrapped her arms around her knees and bowed her head.

Ameridan woke with her, working himself into a great fuss and she threw off the covers and went to him, soothing him with a song as she held him and rocked him.

“It’s okay, sweet one. You’re safe. I’m here. Mamae is here.” As she spoke the words, it brought relief to her own mind too. She stayed up with him for a few hours. Fed him, rocked him, sang to him and eventually fell asleep with him next to her in the bed.

—

Next morning, Sarya was at the beach, toes curled in the cool sand, basking in the rays of sun while enjoying the slight breeze that had come in. Baby Ameridan was fast asleep in her arms and for the first time in such a long while she felt content.

“Too bad you’re sleeping,” she said to Ameridan. “You’re missing out on a beautiful view.” She kissed his forehead.

“I’m not sure he’d even be able to enjoy it if he was awake. He is a baby after all.” Han sat down beside her in the sand. “What are you doing out here?”

“Sometimes you just need to sit in the sun,” she said. “I always remember that the world is bigger than me when I’m here.” She sighed as she stared out across the waves of the sea. A plethora of blues and greens stretched out before and above.

“Hmm yes,” Han said. The waves gurgled against the shore. “I was wondering if you could do me a favor.”

Sarya blinked, coming to from her reveries and admiration. “Whatever you need.”

“I was officially elected for a council seat while you were away.”

Sarya smiled huge. “Really?” If she still had her other arm, she would’ve punched him. “That’s so great! I’m so proud of you! Though slightly pissed I wasn’t there to see it happen.”

He smirked. “Yes well, that just means you should be really proud to help me while I rebuild homes for the elves in the alienage. They deserve to have a community as nice as ours.”

“I agree with you of course. And I’d be happy to help.”

“Good. I’m glad to hear it.” He stood, dusting himself off and smiled down at her. So proud. So loving. And she couldn’t understand it.

Later she was hammering nails into boards with the baby on her back. The consistent whacking soothing her mind in some kind of way. She hummed and the autumn sun warmed the hair on her head. Forgot to eat lunch and didn’t realize time was even passing until Ameridan started fussing on her back.

“Oh.” She set the hammer down and reached for her son, pulling him out to have a look at him. Nearby, her pack sat, a bottle full of halla milk in the side pouch. Another special gift given by her family.

She began to feed Ameridan when Han showed up again, this time with Zevran in tow.

“Zevran! It’s so good to see you! I assumed you’d changed plans and weren’t coming.”

“Yes, well, I was momentarily delayed by some fellow assassins.”

Sarya raised a brow. “I hope you took care of those assassins…”

“It seems one has escaped. But no worries, I will find them soon enough.” Zevran bowed, taking her hand and kissing it in the process. It was as suave and graceful as ever. She never could quite master the finesse and charm that Zev had. “Ah, my dear Inquisitor. I am honored to be in your presence.”

Sarya tucked her hand into her pocket and flushed without meaning to. “Please, just call me Sarya.”

“As you wish. What did I miss?”

“Nothing actually. Just another day of work.”

“Then it seems I lucked out,” said Zevran.

Han laughed. “You really did.”

He and Zevran exchanged smiles and Sarya shook her head. “Han, have you shown him around the market yet?”

Han just smirked. “Nope but I’m planning to now. Care to join us?”

“No, thank you. I need to get Ameridan out of the sun and I promised El I’d help her prep for dinner this evening.”

“I’m a little bummed,” Han said.

“I'm not. I’ve never enjoyed being a third wheel,” Sarya said.

“Your loss.” Han took Zevran’s hand in his own. “See you around.”

“It was a pleasure to see you again.” Zevran threw her a wink.

“Trust me. The pleasure’s all mine,” she replied with a smile then waved them off.

She stayed out for a little while longer, sitting under the shade of the alienage tree, eating some stale sourdough crackers and berries she had packed before self awareness and overthinking kicked into gear. Then she tucked Ameridan back in the carrier, picked up her things and wandered home.

-

In the evening, Sarya helped her sister arrange a tray of fresh bread, cheeses, and fruit while Ellana cooed at Ameridan.

“He’s so precious,” she told her.

Sarya smiled, placing the finishing touches on the tray. “I think so.”

El’s voice lowered. “How are you doing?”

Sarya was surprised. Her sister didn't usually ask those sorts of questions. They’d always been best at bickering.

“Okay, I guess,” Sarya said.

El squeezed her shoulder. “It’s okay even if you aren’t. Becoming a mother is difficult—it can be a heavy transition, especially when you’re grieving a loss. Just–I’m here if you need me, okay?”

Sarya placed a hand over hers. “Thank you, El. That means more to me than you could possibly know.”

Ellana smiled softly.

[continued on ao3]

[bearlytolerant]

Fandom: Dragon Age

Pairing: Solas x Sarya Lavellan

Rating: E (nsft)

Word Count:1005

AO3

A Little Longer

Solas. His name lingers on her mind. On her lips. And she feels like a hypocrite. Starts her day out with guilt over losing one man who she never really cared for and ends it with guilt for the passion she can’t hide for another. But she’s never been a spiritual woman, needing to pay some sort of penance for missteps of morals she placed on herself.

Lying in bed she still remembers his freckles. The feel of his lips. The way her body ached to have his knee pressed into her thigh again. If he can manage so much longing with a well placed knee then what could he do with his fingers? His tongue? With his—

She closes her eyes, relying on memory to conjure Solas’ face and she wonders if he would care if she touched herself with him in mind. She wouldn’t care if he did. In fact, she’d rather enjoy that.

Her eyes fly open and she scrambles for her phone.

Sarya:I can’t stop thinking of our kiss…

Solas: I have not forgotten either.

Sarya: I wish I’d asked you to stay.

Solas: I have some regret in not staying.

She’s surprised by his answer but quite pleased. Her fingers type quickly.

Sarya: what would you have done if you had?

His response is instant and she wonders if he too is lying in his bed.

Solas: A countless number of things that I would also later regret.

Sarya: Like what?

Solas: Perhaps we should speak of this another time?

She chuckles to herself.

Sarya: Okay. Until then, I'm going to use my imagination. I wouldn’t mind if you used yours…😏

Solas: I…look forward to hearing about the ways you used your imagination in the future.

Sarya: Interesting. Well, have a good night Solas.

Solas: You as well.

She flops back on her pillow with a stupid grin on her face and then decides to flop over and take a very flattering picture of her ass. She does some quick edits on her phone and sends it to Solas with a little message about some help with his imagination.

—

His room is dimly lit with only his reading lamp on and when his phone buzzes again, he tells himself not to check. But her name pops up and he can’t resist. He opens her message and he can’t focus on her words. Her back is exposed, even in the shadowed lighting he can see the tenuous strain of her muscles as she stretches out, ass in the light. He is compromised. He should look away. Or close it out. Maybe even delete it altogether. But she’s wearing underwear that highlights the roundness of her ass and just barely covers her entrance. Avoiding his imagination would be the cordial thing to do. The respectful thing. He feels twenty years younger, looking at this photo on his phone and he remembers a time when this sort of game was a fun one.

Finding a decent spot to take his own selfie, as they call it, he shirks his pants down to expose the lower half of his abs but leaves enough covered to keep her guessing. A tasteful work of art. He will showcase what he has to offer without showing her. He takes a picture of his hand next, two fingers curled in sensual implication and sends them back to her.

Sarya: And here I was expecting a dick pic…

He can’t help but smirk.

Solas: Good night, Sarya.

His phone goes quiet and he makes sure to delete the photo of her ass before crawling back into his bed. He picks up the mystery novel he’d been reading and reads to keep his own imagination from running wild. Reads until he can’t read anymore. Reads until he sleeps.

—

She’s staring at the pictures Solas sent for far too long. He knows what he’s doing and it’s almost cruel. But clever. Revved up and already on a high, she has a need that must be met. She allows her mind and her fingers to wander. She runs her hand down her chest, past her torso and further, through her thatch of thick auburn hair and presses a finger to her clit.

She lets his name slip off her tongue. Testing it out, letting the sound of it carry her through her longing. She will be sure to tell him of this—the way she used his name. And she wonders if he’ll take her when she tells him or if he will make her wait. Reality says he’ll wait but her fantasy says he won’t. He would want to feel how wet she is for him.

She dips her fingers inside and says his name again like a gasp. And she wonders what this night could have been. A night beyond a kiss with bodies against the wall.

Sliding her fingers up, she adds pressure to her clit, already sensitive and swollen. She gives it the attention it needs. Then imagines how the night would’ve gone.

Two fingers and she pictures her legs wrapped around his waist, his pants undone and hanging off his hips. Three fingers and he’s fucking her against the wall. She rides them, clenching and bucking against her hand. Every image of Solas bringing her to the brink of satisfaction until she finally hits her climax. The crash back to reality is a little hazy and his name is still two syllables slipped off her tongue.

Fingers stilled and her breath heavy, she opens her eyes to her empty room. The fan is cold and she smacks it away. Rises from her bed and pads over to the shower. While the water runs down her body, she imagines herself curled up in his arms, covered in his warmth and treasured by his kisses. She sighs, turns off the water and wraps herself in a towel, hoping he’s home imagining a similar scenario.

As she closes her for sleep, she vows to see him again tomorrow.

Kinktober 2021 list

[bearlytolerant]

Tagged by @thevikingwoman @ejunkiet and @roguelioness thank you so much! 1. How many works do you have on AO3?

20

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

114587

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Vhenan’ara - a solavellan fic in which a happy ending for solavellan doesn’t mean perfect

the sun and the moon- Solas x Sarya Lavellan snippets I’ve written over the years

Free Falling- a modern solavellan circus/newspaper au

Soaring - circus au prompts that occur outside the main story

Say Something- a 5+1 Shega fic

4. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Yes! I adore when writers respond to me because it’s my fave feature about fanfic. So I respond to people who do me the honors of commenting. Sometimes I’m slower at responding than I’d like to be though 😩

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I don’t have any full fics.

But that one shot would be Apple Pie (ch 31) 😬

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Bitter on the Tongue - a pentahawke love story

7. Do you write crossovers? If so what’s the craziest one you’ve ever written?

I don’t generally speaking but my mass effect fic, Unhinged, is technically.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Oh gosh, yes. Tbh it’s scared me off a few times but then I always come back with more spite to write. 😝

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes indeed. I don’t know. Porn with plot. Porn with feelings. I really like throwing in conversation. Sometimes I write more lyrical/poetic stuff. Things for twc have gotten a little kinkier these days. So a mixed bag of things. I don’t know. Depends on my mood I guess.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I started to co-write one before and it was a blast! 10/10 would co-write with someone again.

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Oof. I don’t know. Solavellan is up there but so is Bethistair. And current twc ship obsessions are up there.

You know what, I don’t like this question. I can’t pick a favorite okay.

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but you don’t think you ever will?

Honestly, I don’t know. The dream is to finish every wip I’ve started. Maybe come back and ask me this in five years. Lol

15. What are your writing strengths?

I think I’m decent with dialogue these days actually. I’m also concise I think and I’m creative.

Oh I’m good at adding drama and decent at adding layers to my writing.

I once had someone tell me I’m great at writing the metaphysical. But I don’t know if that’s a compliment or not. I’ll just put it here anyway.

I’ll be honest, this feels really weird to write this out.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Brain is much more suited for this purpose. It wants to scream–everything—but too bad. Here’s some things though.

Getting discouraged easily.

Staring at a blank page for too long.

Adding too many subplots—a downside to my drama loving ass 😅

I feel iffy about my pacing.

I could get better at cutting the transitional sentences. Too many of those.

Editing is the bane of my existence and it probably shows–sorry about those grammar mistakes I still missed after 100 read throughs.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I don’t know. I don’t have any. Now I’m wondering if I should be thinking about this 🤔…

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Dragon Age 🥲

19. What’s your favorite fic you’ve ever written?

Again with the singular favorite. Cruel to make me choose.

From Dragon Age: Birthday Boy (ch 4)

From TWC: plant saga

Tagging @ellstersmash @kittlesandbugs and literally anyone else who sees this and hasn’t been tagged (I feel like everyone else I know has already been tagged lol)

[thevikingwoman]

December reading

No novels or completed longer fanfic works read this month, but lots of short fanfic. I had to include a good deal, but as always there is more under my reading tag, viking reads.

Short Fanfic Highlights

Snowfall in the Imperium by @idrelle-miocovani [friendship, rating: gen]

I loved this little post-Trespasser/DA4 glimpse of a mission in progress. I love that we don’t know everything, but it doesn’t matter. All that matters is the friendship and how good it feels to see these characters together again, how much they feel at home with each other. 

Correspondence with Aunt Evelyn, part 1, part 2, part 3 by @contreparry [background Cullen/Trevelyan, rating: gen] 

I love introducing minor characters, and especially family and relations with the inquisitor. Henrietta is such a teenager, and I love the little glimpse of her experience of the politics and war of the Inquisition and Thedas. 

Something New by @bearlytolerablethethird [Solavellan, rating: gen]

Circus AU! This is so intriguing, and I just love Sarya’s demeanor

Cold, part 1 and part 2 by @ladylike-foxes [Solavellan, rating: explicit]

Post breakup Solavellan, and Halesta and Solas are clashing and crashing and the tension is amazing. 

Desperate war-time smut by @buttsonthebeach [Solavellan, rating: explicit] 

This contains so many spoilers for Reckoning (which I highly recommend) and it’s just perfect. Every moment is perfection and adsskkffkk. Wonderful.

the naughty list by @ellstersmash [Solavellan, rating: explicit]

Modern AU holiday smut, Solas in a santa suit. This is funny, and hot and delightful. 

Winter’s Bone and Unlocked Doors by @galadrieljones [Lavellan x Ameridan, rating: teen?]

I love these glimpses of life for post-Trespasser Sene, which are neither sad nor fully happy. I love her relationship with Ameridan, and what Ameridan represents. I love all the little details in narration. 

Perfect Silence by @a-kitten-made-of-corduroy [Solavellan, rating: mature]

Such a heartbreaking, beautiful post Trespasser story. 

The Tree by @bearlytolerablethethird [Solavellan, rating: general]

Ugh, yeah I got something in my eyes. 

Solas loosing his composure by @buttsonthebeach [Solavellan, rating: teen]

Wonderful pre-relationship piece, Solas is so wavering here, really nails his difficulty with just existing. 

Never Too Late by @pikapeppa​ [Solavelan, rating: general]

So a lot of people made me sad in December, and this was another piece of gorgeous post-Trespasser angst. 

Sub!solas smut by @buttsonthebeach [Solavellan, rating: explicit]

A+++ smut, or ‘viking tricks Beach into writing porn for her’ THANK YOU this was so hot and amazing and I love them! (also, my friend, do you realize you not naming things make these summaries so much harder lmao)