My flower-child, finally complete with her custom flower crown. I am so beyond pleased with this. It took me all day, but so completely worth it. I will probably periodically reblog this because I love her and this turned out exceptionally well.

English Ivy:  A testimony to the long-lasting connections and bonds we form that last over the years. Ivy is incredibly durable and has the ability to bind together those who might otherwise remain apart. Determination, change, and patience.

Blackberry Bramble: Protection against malevolent spirits, food of the faeries, curative properties.
 

Queen Anne’s Lace: Sanctuary, dream catching, and spiritual clarity.

I’m doing that draw your otp meme thing and I love them so much ✨

[ Dorian Pavus and Aurel Lavellan - in formal wear ]

[ You can follow me on instagram if you want! ➡ https://www.instagram.com/aryanel.jpg/ ]

long-liv-prairies  asked:

How about a DalishxSkinner tarot prompt!

@dadrunkwriting

Using the Dreaming Way Tarot deck, I pulled the Four of Swords for this one!

Sweat dripped steadily from Skinner’s brow, and she let it, not bothering to wipe the trails of moisture from her face. The elf laid her head back against the pulpy bark of a tree, letting her daggers dangle from her slack hands. Even when the fighting was done and the rest of the Chargers put down their weapons and cracked open the ale barrels, her knives were never far from her fingers. Rest and relaxation were something entirely foreign to her; tended to make her more anxious than the heat of battle ever could.

Dalish, on the other hand, had no problem tossing her staff–…bow aside and curling up with a mug of ale cradled in her large hands. Skinner sniffed to see the way she stretched out her long legs before the fire and shared easy jokes with Krem and Stitches. The woman was really just entirely too tall, decided the city elf. Like a beanpole, slim and tall and as gangling as a teenage boy without any of the awkwardness that came from growing too fast in too short of a time. She could also sleep anywhere. Sometimes it seemed to Skinner that she hadn’t a single care in the world.

She knew it wasn’t true, but still she envied the ease with which Dalish could forget those cares for even a moment, something Skinner could never manage. There were always the flashbacks, the glimpses behind her eyelids of times long past, things that couldn’t hurt her any longer digging their claws in all over again.

“Yer shoulders are all tensed up again, love,” a deep, familiar voice lilted. 

Skinner scowled up at the tall shadow that fell over her face. “Somethin’ nasty in there,” she replied in a gruff tone, nodding toward the freshly-cleared Redoubt. “We’ll have to fight it.”

Dalish nodded as she folded her long legs beneath her as elegantly as a fawn and pulled the other woman closer, her fingers digging into the hard, knotted up muscle of her shoulders. A pleased growl rumbled in Skinner’s throat, a sound anyone else might mistake as a threat. “Well,” reasoned the blonde elf. “Whatever it is, it’s moved on for now. We’ll face it another day, but for now ye should loosen yerself up a bit.”

A smirk crossed Skinner’s face. “I can think of a few ways to loosen up,” she suggested, with another feral sound and a glint in her eye that had Dalish giggling like a schoolgirl.

A reminder that @lilyvonk is an AMAZING artist and you should totally follow her art blog. This was a commissioned piece she did for me of my Dalish Inquisitor Avrinne together with Iron Bull (my OTP~). She took my crappy little “this is what I kinda want” thumbnail sketch and turned out something I want to hang over my freakin’ fireplace. I wanted symbolism and emotion– and she delivered in SPADES. (Bull’s FACE omg that look SO BEAUTIFUL.) 

Frig, do I ever love Dragon Age. XD

“Mamae, mamae!”

“Careful, Neris! I just finished that one, we don’t want to smudge it right away,” Vallera said, pushing the freshly painted mask to the side as she shifted to accommodate her daughter on her lap.

Mamae, hahren said that I could be at the dance!”

“Did he, now? Then you need a mask, da’len.” She planted a quick kiss on the top of Neris’s head. “Do you remember hahren’s lessons about the gods?”

“Why?” Neris asked tentatively.

“Well, because for the wolf dance in the new year, the children wear masks of vallaslin. Which of the gods do you favor, hmm?” Vallera waited as Neris pouted and looked away from her eyes for a moment. “I’ll give you a hint. Do you favor like me, the flames of S…?”

“Sylaise!”

“Yes! Good girl,” she said with a smile, “Or maybe the wings of D…?”

“Daa…”

“Dirth—”

“—amen!”

“Dirthamen, yes, like your…” Vallera looked over to the edge of the camp, where Neris’s father conversed with one of the lead hunters. “Your papae?”

“No.” Neris shook her head to the sides and Vallera laughed.

“So… what do we do?”

“I want to be a hunter!”

“A hunter?”

“Yes, I want to track down the Dread Wolf and defeat him like Sulanin!”

“Oh, to find Fen’Harel you’ll need the guidance of Ghilan’nain, but to defeat him you’ll need the blessing of Andruil,” Vallera paused, “So whose will it be, da’len?”

“Both.”

“Both?”

“Yes.” Neris smiled.

Vallera laughed at her child. “Alright, my love. Do you want to paint yourself?”

Neris nodded, amber eyes fixed on her own.

“Very well, let’s see what you come up with,” Vallera said, kissing her daughter’s cheek three times in quick succession, and handed Neris her painting brush.

My piece for @thedosianlny, featuring toddler Neris and her mamae, Vallera, Lavellan’s clan artisan, painting masks for the Dance of Fen’Harel, where the children don vallaslin masks and help the dream warrior Sulanin defeat the Dread Wolf.