solavellan fanfic

unseeliequeens  asked:

prompt: post trespasser but pre-reunion ellana sends solas a cake saying "don't ignore me i sucked your dick"

….so this got more emotional than I planned? Whoops… Enjoy my silly yet also somewhat bittersweet crackfic AU!

@dadrunkwriting

Pairing: Solavellan, post-Trespasser

Rating: Teen for dirty words

**********

“Ellana, I simply cannot believe you have done this.”

Ellana always knew she was in trouble when Josephine used her first name.

Well, she was either in trouble, or crying.

Or they were drunk and playing Wicked Grace.

Otherwise she was always Inquisitor or your worship.

But most of the time, it was when she was in trouble.

At least she knew exactly what she did this time.

Not that she was going to let Josephine know that.

“Done what, Josie?” she said innocently, staring down at the map spread before her.

“We finally receive reliable intelligence as to Solas’s whereabouts, and you use it to - to - Ellana, look at me.”

Well, now she was really in trouble. Josephine’s hair was askew, and her eyes were flashing with anger.

“You sent Solas a cake. A cake that said - that said -”

Don’t ignore me, I sucked your dick,” she finished with confidence.

Josephine dropped her portable writing desk. It clattered against the stone floor of the war room.

“Ellana! Did you need to repeat it so loudly? And what exactly were you hoping to accomplish with this stunt?”

Ellana dropped her gaze to the map again. To the landscape of the war they’d carved over the last year. To the failed ploys and pitched battles and all the places Solas had broken her heart over and over again.

“I don’t know. We’ve tried everything else. Maybe we can get him to think with his dick, like so many other men seem to.”

Josephine was silent - and then she was laughing, a bright sound and yet a sad one at the same time.

“I am not sure if Leliana will pitch a fit, or congratulate you,” Josephine said when she quieted.

“Both, if I am lucky. I only wish we could have embedded an agent to observe his reaction. Can you imagine?”

Ellana tried imagining it as she said the words - and for the first time in months, she smiled when she pictured his face. She hoped it made him smile, too.

*

Solas knew something was wrong the moment he entered the hideout. His agents were hunched around a small table, speaking in hushed tones, their postures tense. He couldn’t make out the words, but his fear spiked nonetheless. Had a different cell been compromised? Had Tevinter succeeded in cracking down on the slave uprising? Had one of the artifacts they sought been destroyed by Chantry forces?

“It must have been the Inquisitor. It had to be.”

His stomach plummeted. Had something happened to Ellana?

“Report,” he barked, lengthening his stride.

His agents turned to face him - but they kept their ranks closed, as if trying to block something from his view.

“Tar’len - we did not expect you so soon,” the most senior among them said, her voice halting.

“My trip to the Anderfels was not as fruitful as I hoped. What has happened?”

The agents shared a glance, their eyes full of fear. His heart sped. He wanted to shake it out of them. What happened to Ellana?

“We are not sure how, tar’len,” another agent began. “But Inquisition forces found this hideout. They left a message for us - for you. It is - a perplexing message.”

It was a matter of time before they found this hideout - but it was more worrisome that they knew he would be here to receive a message. He would deal with that in a moment.

“Let me see it,” he said.

Another nervous glance, and then they parted ranks.

There was a cake on the table behind them.

Small, round, and covered in thick white frosting. How was that a message?

That was when he stepped close enough to see the red frosting on top.

Don’t ignore me, I sucked your dick

Ellana.

Oh, Ellana.

He was laughing before he knew he was, and there were tears gathering in his throat.

All the resources that went into finding this hideout, to delivering something here - and this was what she sent.

He was dimly aware that his agents were staring, but he didn’t care. He let himself laugh for the first time in months instead.

Sene and Solas: Masterpost

A big, updated post including all my Solavellan fictions, plus post-canon fics that explore Sene’s life after Solas and after the Exalted Council.

The Dead Season

What if Solas had changed his heart? What if he never left? The Dead Season explores a complex universe in which Solas, tortured by his tragic past, finds a way to heal. With Sene as his ultimate guide, he chooses to repair the Veil rather than to tear it down and to embrace love and friendship in the new world. Together they help each other through the difficulties of living and forge a relationship that can weather any storm.

Can be read only at AO3. <3

Domestic Bliss: Stories

These little pieces explore Sene and Solas in their inevitable future domestic bliss. Some are pre-wedding, some are post-wedding. All take place after the events of The Dead Season.

Saying Something - Solas and Sene, rain and wedding jitters (prompt via anon)

Smoke - Solas’s bachelor party, pt. 1 (prompt via @fairymelt)

The Rose Bushes - Sene and Solas, concerned husband (prompt via @5ftgarden)

Kitchen Talk - Sene and Solas, in the kitchen, slightly nsfw (prompt via @fen-an)

The Curtains - Sene and Solas, Iron Bull is passed out, naked, in the kitchen (prompt via @makelovenotbloodmagic)

Wedding Dress - a little tipsy (prompt via @thevikingwoman)

Mouse - an unwelcome visitor (prompt via @spiritofsolace)

Patterns - Sene’s birthday (prompt via @5ftgarden)

Fortress - pillow fort (prompt via @5ftgarden) - NSFW

Watching Sene Plant the Daisies - Solas watches Sene plant the daisies, an interesting wedding gift arrives by messenger (prompt via @thevikingwoman)

Good Men - Solas’s bachelor party, pt. 2 (prompt via @fairymelt)

The Rains of Crestwood - Solas finds a kitten lost in the rain (prompt via @5ftgarden)

Sunburn - Wedding dress shopping in Val Royeaux (prompt via @consumed-by-veilfire)

Lemon Juice - Solas comes in from the garden with an injured hand (prompt via @5ftgarden)

Honeymoon, Pt. 1 - Honeymoon to Antiva, stop at the Lavellan farm (prompt via @5ftgarden)

Honeymoon, Pt. 2 - Honeymoon to Antiva, transport ship (prompt via @thevikingwoman)

Cranberry Bread - Sene is baking cranberry bread in the kitchen (prompt via @ladydracarysao3)

Hope Chest - Sene, newly pregnant, finds a mabari puppy and brings it home to Solas, who is painting the  nursery (prompt via @thewildelf)

Paper Snowflakes - Christmas AU; After getting home from the bar, Solas finds Sene asleep in a pile of paper snowflakes (prompt via @thevikingwoman)

The Christmas Suit - Christmas AU; Solas wears a hilarious suit to Varric’s Christmas party (inspired by a post from @kadustuniverse)

Got You - Snow in Crestwood, Thom and Josie are visiting from Antiva City (prompt via @wrenbee)

Nobody’s a Stranger - The early days of winter, Sene and Solas have just returned from their honeymoon and must acclimate themselves to the world. (prompt via @nilesdaughter)

Country Living - Dinner date in the snow (prompt via @thevikingwoman) - NSFW

Gratitude - Solas is building the fence, and Sene brings him a glass of water (prompt via @5ftgarden) - NSFW

A Valentine for Sene - Solas gives Sene a gift in the Fade

Creatures of Habit - Sex in the moonlight (prompt via @5ftgarden) - NSFW

Rooftops - Wedding night, Sene and Solas hang out on the roof (prompt via @5ftgarden) 

Solas has a Fever. - Title says it all. Sene nurses Solas back to health. (giveaway piece for @wrenbee)

Fever Dreams - A revised expansion of “Solas has a Fever”

Good to Me - Solas always gets a little down on his birthday. Sene knows how to make it right - NSFW

Flashbacks: Stories

These are little pieces that explore their courtship pre-Skyhold, as well as pieces of backstory from the Inquisition era, when their love was in its golden age. All take place before or during the events of The Dead Season.

The Singing Maiden - Haven, hanging out in the Singing Maiden (prompt via @fairymelt)

Impatience - Haven, making it snow on the roof (prompt via @5ftgarden)

Red - Redcliffe Castle, Future!Solas and Sene during “In Hushed Whispers” (prompt via @fairymelt)

The Luxury of Falling in Love - Skyhold, in bed, discussing the meaning of their relationship, Solas and his butterflies (prompt via @fairymelt)

Dinner with Friends - Skyhold, Varric plans a dinner, Solas, on his most charming behavior, as a perfect gentleman (prompt via @5ftgarden)

Blank Slate - Skyhold, Sene watching Solas paint for the first time (prompt via @5ftgarden)

Old Habits - Hinterlands, Hurt/Comfort after a bad fight in the Hinterlands (prompt via @thevikingwoman)

Speed - Haven, hanging out on the roof of the apothecary (prompt via @wrenbee)

Camping - Emerald Graves, Solas uses his hands (prompt via @5ftgarden) - NSFW

Nobody - pre-Haven, Sene and Solas meet for the first time (prompt via @fairymelt)

Lucky - Western Approach, nap time in the sun (prompt via @silent-of-spirit) - NSFW

When Life Gives You Lemons… - Sene and Solas find time for a little love in Val Royeaux (prompt via @tel-abelas-mofo) - NSFW

The Party - First kiss in the Fade (prompt via @thevikingwoman)

*Humidity - It’s humid at Skyhold (prompt via @kaoruyogi) - NSFW

*Empty Spaces Between - Two weeks into the Inquisition, Solas’s feelings for Sene begin to take shape (prompt via @providenx)

Post-Trespasser AU

Sene x Abelas. Sene x Ameridan. Exploring Sene Lavellan in a canon scenario: Solas left, Trespasser happened. Sene finds love and healing in unexpected places.

*Inertia - Sene finds comfort in Abelas, an old friend and new lover. (prompt via @bearly-tolerable)

A Paper Flower for Your Love - Searching for Solas in Antiva City (prompt via @cordkitty-ish)

Digging - Sene is having a hard time after the Exalted Council. (prompt via @lavilsa)

*Last Call: Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 | Pt. 3 | Pt. 4 - In pain after the Exalted Council, Sene breaks up with Abelas and runs into Inquisitor Ameridan in the Frostback Basin. The two find comfort in each other in unexpected ways (initial prompt via @thevikingwoman) - NSFW

Romance in a Bookstore [Solavellan Modern Day AU]

[I want to dedicate this Solavellan drabble to everyone who supported and encouraged me to keep writing. Thank you. ❤❤❤ Especially to @dreadhobo, @solverne, and @solemis.]


Solas wasn’t the social type. He preferred being surrounded by books than by people. Unfortunately being owner of a bookstore meant that you would encounter people. He wasn’t that he hated people, but more that he could never find anyone engaging enough to share his interests or even someone just to have debates with. So here he was seated at the counter with his face buried within a book dealing with the history of Arlathan when he heard the bell of the door chime, indicating he had a customer.


His stormy blue eyes glanced up from his book to see who entered his shop. His breath caught in his throat slightly at the sight of the Dalish elf. She was quite captivating. Her dark brown hair cascaded over her slender shoulders, the purple of her Vallaslin brought out the deep blue of her eyes, and the smile that graced her lips when she caught sight of him seemed to make his heart stop. He knew he had to break out of his daze when he realized she was speaking.


She approached the counter. “Andaran Atish'an. I was wondering if you had any books dealing with the rise and fall of Arlathan.” Even her voice was mesmerizing. He cleared his throat lightly before he spoke. “As it so happens I do.” He gestured to the book laying open in front of him. Her smile seemed to widen. “Fascinating isn’t it? The history of Arlathan has always intrigued me so much so that I’m a history major at the University of Orlais.”


He was impressed. Not many elves attended the University of Orlais because of the prejudice against them. Especially Dalish elves. “That is quite impressive. Especially given the prejudice against elves.” Solas closed the book as he turned his full attention on her. Britannia nodded in response. “I’ve worked hard to get where I am. I’m surprised they actually have classes on Elven history. Though the professors get a lot of facts wrong and I spend much the class correcting them.” She laughed softly.


Solas grimaced slightly. For he knew the Dalish had twisted much of the history themselves. He couldn’t help himself. He had to comment. “Well the Dalish themselves have twisted a lot of the facts for they have forgotten much.” Sometimes he really did have a superiority complex for he was a Dreamer. He has seen the truth with his own eyes. He lived it but when he attempted to share his knowledge, he was shunned.


Her eyebrows furrowed with irritation. “Oh! But you know the truth right?” She narrowed her azure eyes at him. Solas stood and clasped his hands behind his back. His name fit his prideful demeanor. “The Dalish are like children fumbling in the dark, mangling details. I have studied Arlathan all my life. For I am a Dreamer, I have seen the truth.”


She paused when she heard he was a Dreamer. Sominari were incredibly rare. They were very gifted individuals that could walk the Fade. She had done much reseach on them for an essay in her Arcane Arts class. “If you’re a Dreamer, why not share your knowledge with the elves? Let them see the truth?” She crossed her arms and looked upon him with a piercing gaze.


A heavy sigh escaped him. “I have approached many Dalish clans when I use to be a traveler. I was shunned and called a madman. They wouldn’t accept the knowledge I had to share.” His eyebrows furrowed. It was clearly a painful memory. Britannia’s expression softened. “Well…I would be willing to learn.” She spoke softly. A small smile crossed Solas’ lips. “Ma nuvenin.” That is how he had met the woman that would soon change everything.



_____________________________________________



Britannia would come back to the bookstore every day. It had been so long since he engaged with someone. She was such a rare and marvelous spirit in such a dull world. Solas looked forward to her company. It was truly the highlight of his mundane day. They would discuss their theories, interests, and even have heated debates that would sometimes lead to her storming out of the shop, but she would always return.


For two months, this was their daily routine. He found himself falling for her. He tried to fight the feelings for she was young and had much of her life ahead of her. She also didn’t know the truth of who he was. He couldn’t initiate something between them based on a lie. She was so unique and beautiful that it was hard for him to resist the hold she seemed to have over him.


Today was just like any other day to him, but when she entered the store…he could tell that she had something on her mind. She approached the counter like she always did, but she seemed nervous. She fiddled with the strap of her messenger bag. She hadn’t uttered a word. As if she was having a silent debate with herself.


“Britannia? Is everything alright?” He asked in concern. She seemed to snap out of her thoughts. She took a deep breath before she finally spoke. “I was wondering if you wanted to go out for coffee sometime?” She asked timidly, a slight blush dusted her cheeks. She had asked him out. Solas felt his heart stop before a smile graced his lips. “I would love that.” He answered softly with such adoration in his voice.


Britannia smiled brightly. She could feel her heart racing. He had said yes. She reached out and took his hand that rested upon the counter, slipping a piece of paper within his hand. “I look forward to it.” She gave him a flirtatious smile and a wink before she left the shop. Solas opened the paper with curiosity to see that it was her phone number.


He could feel the heat rise to his cheeks as he stared down at the digits. Solas glanced up to see that she was standing at the window of the shop. The smile she gave him had to been one of the most beautiful sights he had ever seen. That was the moment when Solas realized that she had changed everything.

Torn Asunder (Solavellan Fanfic)

[This is for the lovely and amazing @lavilsa! I hope you enjoy it. It’s very feelsy.]


He had won. Fen'Harel finally tore down the Veil and the world was burning in the raw chaos. The final confrontation of Fen'Harel’s army and the Inquisition’s forces was long and bloody. Miera fought side by side with her comrades as they all fell one by one. As each of them fell, it made her fight that much harder.

She screamed and cried as she cut down Fen'Harel’s forces with her spirit blade. Her tears mixed with her blood and that of her comrades. Her friends. With each slash of her blade…she thought of their names: Dorian, Varric, Sera, Blackwall, Cassandra, The Iron Bull, Vivienne, Cole, Cullen, Josephine, and Leliana. Everyone in this world was dying. Burning. All by the hands of the one she loved…Solas.

Miera had failed her friends, her clan, her world, and Solas. She had promised to find a way to save him. To redeem him. She was the Inquisitor, The Herald of Andraste, and the Savior of Thedas…Now here she was limping and wandering aimlessly. She was dying. Slowly.

Her prosthetic arm hung uselessly at her side as she clutched her stomach where one of his Sentinels had impaled her with his sword. She could feel the mana flooding her veins now that the Veil was gone. It was overwhelming. Her blood was burning just like the world around her.

She wandered for what seemed like hours. Time no longer mattered. She stumbled across a Fen'Harel statue and a sad smile spread across her lips. She limped over to the stone wolf and caressed its muzzle. Tears spilled down her dirtied and bloodied cheeks. “I still love you…I could never stop loving you even when you tore the world asunder…” Her voice cracked as she spoke to the stone wolf as if Solas could hear her.

“Ir abelas…I wanted to save you…To keep you from walking this path…From being alone…” She knew she was sobbing now. She truly had nothing left. Miera settled down next to the statue, far too exhausted to even stand any longer. She leaned against the wolf’s stone torso. Her body was numb and heavy. She knew her end was finally drawing near.

“Ar lasa mala revas, Solas. Live freely, knowing I loved you to my death.” She turned her head to place a soft and tender kiss to the cold surface of the statue. “Ar lath ma, vhenan…” She took one last breath before her eyes slipped closed forever.

________________________________

After the fighting and screaming had silenced, Solas and a few of the Sentinels that joined him returned to the battlefield of the last confrontation. His gaze fell upon the deceased members of the Inquisition. He closed his eyes to fight back the tears threatening to fall. He had no right to grieve. This was all his doing. There was no turning back and undoing what he had done.

Once he opened his eyes, he looked at the Sentinels. “Please see to their remains. Lay them all to rest.” His voice was filled with sorrow. They merely nodded and got to work. Solas scanned the bodies once more to see if Miera was among them, but she was not. His breath hitched. Where was she? Had she in some way survived? Even if she did, he was sure she hated him and cursed his name.  

He parted from the Sentinels and walked over to a small grove of trees and there in the middle of the grove stood a Fen'Harel statue. His eyes widened when he spotted the body slumped against it…Miera. He ran to her and fell to his knees beside her. He reached out his hand to place it upon her forehead. Her skin was cold to the touch. She was gone.

“Vhenan….” His voice quivered as tears filled his eyes. He trailed a hand through her silky, blonde hair. Her face looked so serene, almost like she was asleep. “Ir abelas…Ir abelas, vhenan…” He pulled her lifeless body within his arms and stood, cradling her against his chest. When he emerged from the grove, one of the Sentinels sprinted over to him. “My lord…” He spoke but was soon silenced.

“I have her…I shall lay her to rest personally…” he walked away from the Sentinel with the love of his life cradled in his arms. His heart was heavy with sorrow and regret. Even when his new world was finally restored, it would never know the amazing woman who was Miera Lavellan.

____________________________________

After giving Miera the proper burial, Solas couldn’t help but return to where she died. He needed to see her final moments. No matter how painful, he needed to witness it. The wisps around him began to recreate Miera’s final moments alive.

Watching her die was agony, but her words truly shattered him. She still loved him. Even after he destroyed everything she held dear, she still loved him. He fell to his knees before the statue, burying his face within his hands and wept.

Not only was the world torn asunder, but so was his heart.

thevikingwoman  asked:

Solas and Sene, First Kiss. Late afternoon sun, freshly cut flowers or herbs <3

It is very late, but ‘tis complete, @thevikingwoman. Thank you. <3 And thank you, @redinkofshame for motivating me to write tonight. ^^

For @dadrunkwriting.


The Party

It was hard staying awake. The rotunda had a purple light, and it all felt like dreaming. About a week before, Solas had kissed her wrist when they were in the Hinterlands. One of the mages in Witchwood had broken his staff, and Solas got so unhinged by this, he put the man in the dirt with his bare hands. It had been reckless. It had not been pretty.

He didn’t like this sort of thing—finishing men like this. Sene could tell. All the world had become their friendship in those days. Like sinking into the cushions. She would go to his rotunda, and she would watch him paint. They would talk about whatever. He was full of wonder, but he was also stoic. He told stories. Endless stories from the Fade. He would charm her, both of them like animals. He did card tricks, and once, he fashioned a flower from behind her ear. It was purple, a purple daisy. She had never seen one like that before. He smelled very good, and he was very strong. Tall, balanced. He treated her like an equal. She thought about that day when he kissed her on the wrist and how it had made her hungry. She wanted to swallow the whole world, and him in it. She had never felt this way before, ever.

That night, she fell asleep, on their couch in the rotunda. She’d put her head on his shoulder as he was talking. He was holding her hand. The anchor. That had been their excuse for a while. But not really anymore. Now, it was just hands. His hands were rough, like canvas stretched and scraped.

When she opened her eyes, she was somewhere else. She was in Haven. The sky was cold and like a long, gray bar. Everything was quiet, but there was a party somewhere in the distance. Like the tavern was full. She couldn’t tell. She was standing with her boots in the snow, crunching, and she looked around.

“Solas?” she said.

“I’m right here,” he said. There he was, right there. The tallest man she’d ever loved. The only man. She smiled at him, and he took her hand. “Come with me, vhenan.”

They walked for a little while, old familiar snow banks and all the little houses and tents intact. This was Haven, but it was before. Nothing had gone to shit yet. The world wasn’t ending. The Breach was just a sucking pit in the sky, and she wanted to go backward and forward, all at once. She missed the old days, when she did not have to be so in charge. Now, it was like a mean tooth, rotting in the back of her gums. She couldn’t shake it. Always there, aching. But then, she remembered. He was holding her hand. Her right hand. This was not an anchor thing. It was a them thing. He walked with his head high and his chin up, looking straight out ahead like nothing was in their way. They were headed for the apothecary. It started to snow.

He stopped them, beside an old fire pit. It looked like it hadn’t burned in weeks. The whole place felt unsettled, but still—the music. It was somewhere. She looked back, but she couldn’t see a party. By now, she had figured that they were in the Fade, but she didn’t know for sure. She was waiting for him, for his confirmation.

“Sene,” he said.

“Yes,” she said.

“Do you know where we are?”

“Yes.”

“The Fade is a malleable place,” he said, looking around. Like he was home. “It is filled with reflections and memories. You don’t have to be afraid. We can leave at any time.”

“I’m not afraid,” she said.

He smiled. “Good.”

They sat down, leaning with their backs against the apothecary’s old house. It all smelled like thyme for some reason, and roses. From where they were sitting, they could see the Breach and all of its unfucked glory. Hovering up there. A mean entity. Solas was still holding her hand.

“Do you hear a party somewhere?” said Sene, looking around.

“Sort of,” he said. “I may just be hearing what you’re hearing.”

“So like,” said Sene, studying their hands together, their fingers interlaced, “are our bodies still just asleep on the couch? Are we just asleep?”

“That is the general idea, yes,” said Solas. “This is a dream, for all intents and purposes. A memory.”

“Why Haven?” she said.

“Because it is real,” he said. “It will always be important to you.”

“And you?” she said.

He sighed. Like a great big man of high importance. They were both sitting with their knees up. Two elves, too tall. He let go of her hand then and, instead, held onto her knee. It was fast, casual, right. His hands were big. She tucked her hands into her lap and put her head on his shoulder.

“When I think of Haven,” he said, “I think of rooftops.”

“Me, too,” she said.

“It is sad that we cannot go back,” he said, and he got lost. He was staring at the Breach, like a great eye.

“Solas,” she said.

“Yes, vhenan.”

Vhenan.

“Why did you bring me here?” she said.

“Because you fell asleep,” he said.

“So?”

“I wasn’t ready,” he said. “For the night to be over. Not yet.”

“You missed me?” she said. She set her chin on his shoulder.

He put his head back, against the high wooden wall. He peaked at her out of one eye, and he relented. “Yes.”

“I think of Haven as the beginning,” she said.

“The beginning of what?” he said.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Us? The Inquisition? My entire life?”

He smirked. “You’re funny.”

“I am not,” she said.

“I didn’t mean for this,” he said.

“Mean for what?” she said.

“You,” he said. “Missing you. I’m sorry, Sene.”

“Sorry for what?”

He turned his head then, to look at her, like he couldn’t remember what he was going to say next. The snow, it was just an atmosphere, she noticed. It was neither cold nor wet. All the sounds from before, from the mystery party nearby, they had gone. It was only them now, and the wind.

She shifted toward him, dropped her knees so that she could see him better. His hand remained. Something held it there. “I thought I knew,” he said.

“Solas,” she said.

“What.”

“Can I kiss you?”

He seemed wholly surprised, and yet, relieved. Like the end of something. His eyes searched hers, but there was only earnestness, friendship, love.

“Yes,” he said.

She set her palm on his cheek, touched his ear. His hand still on her knee, she leaned forward, and she closed her eyes, and she touched her lips to his. Cold in the Fade air, then warm. Soft. They kissed. It was everything.

When they parted, they just looked at each other, and they smiled. It was like they knew.

There was a whole lot of shit coming for them. Ten thousand trials and the end of the world. But in that moment, for just a second—they knew. It was snowing in the Fade, and they were already in love. It was just a matter of time now, before one of them said it. Sealing it into existence. And then, one day, after all the running and the stupid and the highs and the lows, they’d be safe again. In the purple light of dusk, only this time wide awake, all of their fucked-up troubles behind them, and there would be friends and everybody that they knew and loved–just another party, but this one special, and he would fashion a flower from behind her ear. I do, they would say. I do.

OMG you guys, I’ve been reading ‘’My Neighbor, Fen’Harel’’ by the amazing and talented @love-in-nature and I’m addicted, this is a fanart dedicated to the latest chapter ‘’Knew Better’’. If you’re a solavellan then definitely go check it out. Isalan hima sa i’na - I lust to be one with you. 

sasshole-for-rent  asked:

For DWC: #4. "OC forced to kill their LI" ~plot twist~mixed in with #12 "OC confessing that LI is going to be a father/mother" for Halesta and Solas 👀 ...I want to suffer...

I love you dearly, but this was just cruel. Alas, I am nothing if not an eager-to-please emotional masochist, so I hope you enjoy the pain. I apologize for being so terrible at writing. ❤❤

For @dadrunkwriting ❤ (forgive me, plz)


Solas knelt, disarmed, at the feet of the Inquisitor’s forces as their formation parted. He took in the unveiled sight of her as she came into view, unaltered by memory or tricks of the Fade. It had been nearly a year since he last saw her, but she appeared fiercer than ever. Her sharp lilac stare bore through him, unblinking, from the harsh angles of a once- soft face, exaggerated by her silvery halo of hair. The long, curling locks that had been her touchstone now ended just above her clavicle; Solas felt a twinge at the loss. He wasn’t sure how she had managed to overpower him– particularly considering her current state: the hand he had taken from her bore no artificial substitute, and her small frame was laden by an unmistakable swell…. Halesta was with child.

The air was forced from his lungs, and his throat was suddenly dry. His head swam as white orbs dotted his vision. He had seen her in the Fade countless times in the last few months. How had she hidden this from him—? Just as the thought emerged, a figure came to Halesta’s side.

“Solas,” the Inquisitor’s melodic voice was cold, but her pain rung in the undertones, “I believe you already know Felassan quite well.”

Stunned, Solas shifted his wide eyes between them. Felassan’s presence explained the masking of Halesta’s pregnancy. But it left the question of how he was even alive….

“How—?”

“You were weaker than you knew, then. Killing me in the Fade only made me Tranquil,” The Somniari smirked bitterly, “Since then, I’ve had a little help getting back to my old self.”
Felassan jerked his chin towards a dusky, Dalish archer standing close and glaring at Solas through her sea glass eyes.

“And…this?” Solas nodded pointedly at the rounded belly before raising his eyes back to the weighty gaze of his Vhenan.

“This child is yours, Solas,” Halesta squinted, hurt by his insinuation, “You know she is; don’t insult us both by denying it.”

She was right, of course. The child’s magic was already palpable, even while still in her mother’s womb. The panic rose in Solas’s chest as Halesta unsheathed the dagger he had given her.

“You would end everyone I love—everyone you love,” He didn’t recall when she began to cry, yet the tears were now thick and infinite, “And you’re too powerful for me to risk attempting to keep you as a prisoner….”

He bowed his head. He had his chance at redemption months ago, and he had squandered it. He had killed countless numbers of her soldiers, and caused too much damage to be allowed to walk free of this. Nothing had changed in his heart until the sight of Halesta with child, and that simply was not enough to acquit him.

She knelt before him, and Solas looked into her eyes for the last time. Her body shook with each sob, and her face conveyed an apology he didn’t deserve.

“Ar lath ma, Vhenan.”

“Ar lath ma, Solas,” Her whispered sob came as she struck her blow, “Ir abelas, ma’ Vhenan—

unseeliequeens  asked:

prompt: ellana realizes solas is touch starved for the first time (and/or solas realizes he craves ellana's touch for the first time)

I wrote a thing! Enjoy the thing, I hope.

Pairing: Solavellan, Inquisition timeframe

Rating: T for Ellana’s swearing. They get real snuggly here but there’s nothing dirty.

**

In retrospect, Ellana should have noticed it more quickly: the way Solas always, subtly, leaned into her touch, lingered, and then pulled away, like he’d caught himself in a bad habit. The signs had all been there in the stop-and-start-and-stop-and-start again that had defined their - relationship so far. But it wasn’t until they’d made their way back from the Western Approach with news of the bullshit that happened at the ritual tower that she truly realized what power her touch had over him.

Something in him was slipping, like sand shifting to reveal a cracked, parched earth. A dry riverbed she could fill up. People needed, needed, needed things from her all day, every day, and that frightened her - but this - the way his eyes fluttered closed when she rubbed a circle on the back of his hand with her thumb - this was a need that made her feel strong. Useful. Whole.

Keep reading

Perseverance

He leaves Lavellan alone on her knees, her heart a churning mess, such a contrast to the peace of the glen. She weeps, and weeps, and touches her face, mourning the loss of her vallaslin even more now, now that she has connection neither with clan, nor with lover. And somewhere in the midst of her grief, there’s an anger that bubbles up - she knows he loves her, she knows he cares, so why did he leave her, does he have someone she doesn’t know about? How could he do this to her, after all the time they’ve spent together? So she pulls herself together, and walks out of the cave, eschewing the safety of the Inquisition camp for an old, abandoned hut because she doesn’t want anyone to see her red-rimmed eyes.

She doesn’t know he watches over her that night.

She returns to Skyhold, alone, and when she walks past the rotunda she finds the door open; automatically, her eyes are drawn inside, and her gaze meets his. He immediately drops his head, his hands fumbling through the many papers on his desk, and it’s such an obvious dismissal, it is a fresh stab to her heart. And it’s incredibly painful and heart breaking, and she spends nights sobbing into the pillows because damn him, she’s not going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her broken, of knowing how much he has torn her apart. So she walks with her spine straight, her head raised high, and there’s command in her voice and strength in her eyes, and no one - save those who know her intimately - knows that she’s actually numb and cold inside.

Oh, but Solas knows. He knows, and it eats at him, claws at his throat till he wants to eat the words that caused her the pain, and it grieves him further because he knows he can’t do it, he’s sworn to a duty, and he thinks this is the only way to protect her.

And then the final hour comes, and his heart is in his throat each time she attacks the darkspawn magister, and he all but forgets about his companions, focusing on keeping her safe, dropping barrier after barrier; she must not be exposed to the power his orb contains, she must not be hit by Corypheus’ corrupted power. Only when Blackwall yells at him for assistance does he reluctantly leave her side, and even then, it doesn’t stop him from anxiously looking over his shoulder when he can. The orb’s power was not meant for a mortal. He knows this, and he will not let himself think of the fact that she is mortal, and that she bears his mark, or that it would some day consume her, because he will not allow that to happen.

The unthinkable happens.

His orb breaks.

And his plans all scatter, like ashes in the wind.

For all the heartache he’s caused her, Lavellan can see how anguished he is over the loss of the orb, and though she doesn’t understand why, she cannot bear to see him so desolate, and comforts him with her words, distressed that she cannot do so physically.

“What we had was real,” he tells her.

But he leaves her anyway, abandons her mercilessly a second time. Once more she’s thrown into the ocean of misery and heartbreak, and this time the currents are stronger, the waves stronger, and they threaten to overwhelm her, to pull her under until she drowns.

She wakes up one morning, her head pounding, the taste in her mouth sour from the copious amounts of alcohol she’s imbibed; her hair is tangled and knotted, her eyes are red, and she cannot remember the events of the previous night.

When she sees her reflection in the mirror, the remnants of her pride pull her together. She is Lavellan, First of her Clan, Herald to the shems, savior of Thedas, and she has been through too much for her to fall apart for a man, for a man who could abandon her so callously, not once but twice.

So she perseveres, pressing ahead, dealing with life like she always has, ignoring the hole in her heart that cries out for him. She is ruthless in her efforts to get over him; his murals in the rotunda she has covered with curtains; his room is cleaned out and redecorated, the remains of his personal items either donated or thrown away.

She keeps his books, and his notes.

She keeps the amulet that hung around his neck.

She keeps his clothes, pulling them out late at night, long after Skyhold is asleep, clutching the lambswool to her chest and inhaling the scent of him to comfort and ground her.

She is not glass, easily broken; she is diamond, strengthened by pressure, polished by pain.

And when she meets him again, after two long years, she does not run to him. She does not fall to her knees and sob. She stands as she always has, straight and proud, ignoring the pain in her arm and the pain in her heart as he - once again - brings her heartbreak.

But then he kisses her; and damn him, damn him, because that breaks her defenses, lays her bare open before him once more, and when he turns to leave her - her heart and hand wholly in his clutches - yet again, she rises to her feet, stiffens her spine, throws her head back. Her voice is loud, clear and commanding.

Var lath vir suledin, vhenan.

galadrieljones  asked:

Post-Trespasser Reunion Fluff: Iwyn is having trouble deciding on a color for the drapes in their bedroom. She wants to ask Solas his opinion. But Skyhold is a big place, and still sort of empty. Hallways, sunlight coming through the stained glass windows. She goes to find him, and when she does, she is met with a pleasant surprise.

This prompt was so lovely, <3. Thank you!

For @dadrunkwriting

 Iwyn Lavellan and Solas making a home for themselves in Skyhold after they reunite. 

Iwyn Lavellan x Solas | post-Trespasser, post-reunion | romance
fluff, magic


Stars 

The afternoon sun casts its bright light through the windows and the open doors to the balcony. It paints the room in rich orange and greens through the stained-glass windows. Iwyn looks at them and frowns. It looks lovely, but the windows on the other side light up with the dawn. It didn’t use to bother her, she was up with sun so often. But now, now she wants to linger in bed, bury herself in the scent of man besides her.

This is what leads her to her current problem. Drapes will solve the issue, but she cannot decide on a color. She will not break down and message Josephine for advice, she is still the leader of what is left of the Inquisition, and it is her bedroom. Hers and Solas, she thinks with a smile. Green would fit the stained glass. Blue his eyes and the sky above the mountains. Deep red would match the carpet. Maybe midnight blue would be soothing, and surely keep the light out? Too many choices, but she wants it to be perfect. She wants him to feel happy, to feel at peace here. She groans and sits on the bed. Maybe she should just ask him.

Decided, she hurries down the stairs, expecting him to be in rotunda, reading or putting the final touches on the completed murals. He isn’t and there is no half-opened book, and no wet brushes. A raven caws, and she looks up, but there is only a few birds in the tower, and no new messages.

He might be in the garden, reading, but once she gets there it is mostly empty. He is not in the smithy, he is not in the old diplomatic suite where they take their meals. He might be hungry, though, so she heads to the kitchen. He is not there either, but the cook is still there – he refuses to leave Skyhold no matter how few people lives here now – and he pushes a basket of warm cinnamon bread in her hand.

She makes her way down to the wine cellar and the underground library, calling his name. No one answers. Where could he be? She walks from the kitchen to the stables, and up the archway to the inn. Sera is away, a Red Jenny task calling her. The Chargers and Bull is out on a mission, and she just finds Maryden in the inn, composing a song.

“Have you seen Solas?” she asks.

Maryden shakes her head.

Skyhold feels so empty, these days. Her friends have finally decided they can leave her alone with Solas, no more coordination of who is here to keep track of him, no more watching over her like she will shatter and break. She enjoys her time with Solas, and she appreciates their trust, if it wasn’t for the fact that it feels so lonely at times. It is nothing like height of the Inquisition, where the constant buzz of voices reached her everywhere. The War Room is empty too, though she must have lapsed, someone has moved the marker for the Tevinter forces. They are on the move. She frowns, she will worry about that later.

She already checked the garden, but she checks it again. He is not in the room where Morrigan’s eluvian still stands, for safe keeping, of course.

She calls his name yet again, where is he? She can’t find him, and she is gripped with a sudden fear, that he left, that he is gone, that maybe he was never really here. She stops a moment and takes a deep breath. It is nonsense, and she realizes she has not checked the battlements or any of the towers. He would not leave her, not now. She takes another steadying breath, she doesn’t want him to see her upset, to see his eyes filled with guilt and concern.

She climbs the stairs and steps into the now-empty mage tower.

“Solas! Solas!”

No one answers, just words echoing off the half-finished walls. The mages have gone with Fiona, or with Vivienne, and they are still in the middle of turning the tower into a suite of guest rooms.

She exits on the other side, and the sun is almost gone now, slowly sinking below the mountains. The sky is orange and crimson, vermillion reflections on the snowy mountainsides.

The door to the corner tower is ajar, and she slips in, then stops in her tracks. The fallen ceiling is repaired, the room cleared, and a ladder leads up above.

“Solas?”

She hears a sound like a bell on a clear winter day, and then a thump. She climbs the ladder, the basket of cinnamon bread balanced in her mouth. She puts it down when she emerges, almost dropping it.

Solas is there, the green glow of magic pulsing in his hands, sweat on his brow.

“Solas?” she repeats.

He turns to her, and the magic scatters, the light in his eyes dissipating, leaving just the man standing there.

Vehnan,” he says with a soft smile. “I am almost done.”

She jumps to the roof platform, which doesn’t look like a roof at all. She just stares, turns her head and takes it all in. It is so lush, so green. Impossibly, she is standing on a carpet of grass. Willow archways rises above, each covered with roses blooming in a myriad of colors. She breathes deeply, and the sweet scent overwhelms her. Behind her, she can hear a fountain trickle, and a large butterfly flutters past her, the yellow wings shining in the evening light.

“You did this?” She doesn’t trust her eyes. It is lavish garden, an oasis, nothing that belongs in a military fortress, or should even exist in the cold winds of the Frostback Mountains.

“I… Yes.” He steps close to her, takes her hand, and looks down at it. A blush creeps into his face. “Do you like it?”

“I love it. It is so beautiful. But how? Why?” She looks up at him, and her heart sings at the way he looks at her. She feels like her emotions are filling her up, spilling out of her, making her whole body sing. She leans into him, coming home. Grounding herself in his touch.

“There used to be …” he stops, and he put his arms around her. “It doesn’t matter. I wanted you, us, to have a quiet place, somewhere beautiful and restful.”

“It is. Thank you.”

They stand there for a moment, suspended in time, in the present, where nothing but their togetherness had ever been, or would ever become.

“Show me all of it,” she then says, and he does.

Then they lie in the grass, and they eat the cinnamon bread, while one star after another emerges on the night sky.

She forgets to ask him about the drapes.

inbetweenshadows  asked:

Not sure if you have done this yet but what if the hand lavellan lost was her dominant hand. And she has to relearn how to write. But keeps feeling like someone is holding and caressing her hand that's gone

This was beautiful, so I wrote it. I hope that’s okay <3 This was a new thing for me. Here is a Lavellan, nameless thus far. Solavellan, Canon, Post-Trespasser. For @dadrunkwriting​ as well.


Valor

She is in a pale blue dress, sitting by a window in her little house, a house she bought in the Hinterlands with a view of the lake. There is a daffodil in water on the table, and a dove lands on the window sill as she sits, and it makes its sad noise, and she is writing a letter to her mother with the wrong hand. The wind comes in, and it smells like water, and she remembers this one time when Solas picked her a flower on the Storm Coast. They went for a walk in the rain, and he held her hand. Such a lovely show of his elegance. She never knew.

He is gone now. She is a tough cookie, and so instead of crying, she just continues to write. Write and write and write. Crying is old news. She has finished with that. Her friends are in town. They will be by soon with the wine and their clothing of such colorful fabrics. Sera and Josie will want to bake a pie. Cullen and his chivalrous hand. Thom Rainier will be there and chop her firewood. For he is a man of his code, and she has never much liked chopping firewood anyway.

In the last letter, her mother asked whether she would like to come home, to visit her clan up there in Wycome. The river is getting big, said her mother. The floods are going to come. Why does spring have to be full of such sad dispensation? Water in the rivers, water in the tents. They would come south if it weren’t for the sea. She sets down the quill and picks up the daffodil from the clear jar of water, and she brings it to her nose. But daffodils don’t really smell like anything. The dove on the window sill is clumsy. It flies away and leaves her alone.

He still holds her hand in dreaming. She doesn’t care if he comes back. She doesn’t write him letters anymore. Or, if she ever does, she folds them up and tosses them into the lake near Redcliffe. The Lady of Valor is a spirit who lives there, and she will come and take the letters away and ask for nothing in return.

You are a fierce child, will say the Lady of Valor. You have brought much peace to my kingdom

But she will just stand there in her dress. She is filled with defiance and hard, hard crystal shells. She will say to the Lady, I am not a child. This is not your kingdom.

The Lady forgives her every time.

For the Lady is alone, too, in this place. Whenever the Dalish Herald comes, it fills her spirit’s heart with joy.

Because it doesn’t matter what kind of stuff you’re made of, or what you think the world owes you in the end. To be alone is an unnecessary sacrifice, and she will try and think this forever as she writes with the wrong hand, in love with the wrong man. Like doves and mourning. It is no good.

Giving (Solavellan Fanfic)

[Merry Christmas Eve everyone! Happy Holidays to all! I hope you enjoy this Solavellan fanfic I have written for it has been quite sometime since I have written anything. <3]


The holidays were finally upon the Inquisition. It was a time of great joy and merriment. All of Skyhold was celebrating the wonderful time of Satinalia. It felt as if the chaos of the world seemed to stand still. Everyone in the fortress was filled with joy. Children were laughing and running through the courtyard without a single care in the world. It was such a beautiful sight.

Britannia stood upon the steps of the castle with a mug of the finest Antivan Hot Cocoa in hand as she watched the children of all races dash through the courtyard. She watched them with a small smile upon her lips. This is how the world should be. Peaceful. She closed her eyes and listened to the laughter of the children, the festive music playing within the Great Hall, and hearing the joy of all her companions.

For a moment, she could forget the horrors of the world and the heavy duty that lied upon her shoulders. At the moment, she was simply Britannia Lavellan. Not the Inquisitor. Her thoughts were interrupted when a strong pair of arms wrapped around her waist. “I have been looking for you, vhenan.” She felt Solas’ breath upon her ear when he spoke.

Her smile simply widened as she turned around in his arms to face him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and placed a soft, chaste kiss upon his lips. His arms only tightened around her as a soft chuckled escaped his lips. “Well it seems you have found me.” She teased softly.

“Indeed I have. I believe it is time that I give you your gift.” Solas gave her a soft smile. Britannia only smiled in return. “And I have one for you as well.” She moved out of the intimate embrace to take ahold of his hand, intertwining their fingers before giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “Follow me, vhenan.” She tugged him towards the doors of the Great Hall.

______________________________________

Britannia lead her lover through the Great Hall in the direction of her quarters. This gained curious glances from the visiting nobles and knowing looks from her companions. She simply smiled. Let them all think what they wish. She lead him up the staircase leading to her bedroom.

When she entered the room, she spotted a neatly wrapped gift sitting upon her bed. She turned to look at Solas with a knowing smile which earned her a soft laugh from him. The carefree laugh that she loved so much but rarely heard from him.

“I wanted to give you the gift in private without the distractions of others in the Great Hall.” He lifted their joined hands to his lips and placed a soft kiss upon her skin. Small affections like this always made her heart flutter. “May I?” She had such excitement in her voice. Her azure eyes seemed to twinkle with joy. “You may.” He answered softly.

She let go of his hand and retrieved the gift from her bed. She unwrapped the gift eagerly. Solas crossed the room to stand next to her, eagerly awaiting her reaction. Britannia gasped softly as she lifted up a beautiful silky green dress from the box. It was simply breathtaking. The swirling branches upon the dress made it look as if the dress was made for Elven royalty.

“It is beautiful, Solas…Ma serannas…” She gave him a smile that could light up a room. Solas chuckled softly. “Dorian and Vivienne helped have it commissioned from one of the finest Seamstresses. I created the design.” He told her proudly before gesturing to the box. “But you aren’t finished with your gift.”

Britannia glanced at the opened box, placing the gown upon the bed with such care. She returned her attention to her gift. She lifted up a pair of tickets. It was to an opera in Val Royeaux with their own private showing. She was stunned. She had always heard of the wonderful shows in Val Royeaux. She had always dreamed of seeing them one day.

“You always find such joy from singing. I thought perhaps you would enjoy seeing one.” He tenderly reached out to caress her cheek with his knuckles. “While wearing the most beautiful dress.” His words brought tears to her eyes. His gift was so thoughtful. She didn’t think she could love him more than she already did, but she was wrong. Her heart swelled from the love she felt for him at that very moment.

“Solas…I don’t know what to say.” Before she could continue, he placed a finger gently upon her lips. “I have but one more gift to give you, vhenan.” He reached up the unclasped something from around his neck and delicately held up a necklace between his slender fingers. Her eyes fell upon the beautiful moon-shaped pendant adorning the chain of silverite.

She felt her breath leave her. It was so beautiful. “Turn around, ma lath.” He spoke softly. Britannia turned her back to him and gathered her hair in her hand, exposing her neck to him. Solas tenderly clasped the necklace around her slender neck before leaning in to place a small kiss on her pale skin.

She turned to face him once more. Her cheeks were flushed softly as she leaned in to place a soft kiss upon his lips. “Now it is my turn to give you your gift.” She crossed the room to her wardrobe. She opened the doors and pulled out a long, slender box. She returned to him with the box in hand. “Happy Satinalia, vhenan.” She whispered softly.

When he opened the box, he gasped softly at the contents within. It was some of the most expensive paint, pigments, and brushes made in Orlais. He had been in need of more art supplies for sometime but he knew they had more pressing matters than indulging in his favorite pastime. Before he could utter a word, she had yet another box in hand.

“This one is special. I had found it when we were exploring one of the Elven ruins in the Emerald Graves. Dagna and I had it restored and enchanted.” She offered the box to him as she continued. “I know how you enjoy artifacts so I hope you like it.” Her smile was radiant. Solas wished he could spend centuries making her smile like she was now.

He wasted no time opening her gift and what was inside made his breath catch within his throat. Inside the box was a small statuette of a wolf. He tenderly removed it from the box and cradled it in his hands. He stared at the statuette in silence. He knew that she didn’t know the truth of his identity so the gift was so tragically beautiful.

Britannia tilted her head curiously when Solas stood there in complete silence. She thought perhaps she had upset him with her gift. “Solas? Are you alright, vhenan? If you don’t like the gift…” Her voice sounded so disappointed but her words were quickly silenced by Solas’ lips against her own. The kiss caught the young elf by surprise. She wrapped her arms around him and returned the kiss passionately.

The pair soon parted from one another. Solas leaned his forehead against her own. “Ma serannas, vhenan. It was such a beautiful gift. More than you can imagine.” He let out a quivering breath, trying to steady his own racing heart. “I’m glad you liked it.” Her voice was a mere whisper.

They stood there in one another’s embrace. The rest of the world seemed to fade away around them. “Happy Satinalia, vhenan. Ar lath ma.” He uttered softly. Britannia tightened her embrace. “Happy Satinalia. Ar lath ma.” She echoed softly before losing herself within his embrace.

Hamin, ma lath (Solavellan Fanfic)

[I’m so sorry for writing this story so late. ;-; But this is for you @mommadreadwolf as a thank you for your friendship and support. Hope you like it. <3]



Solas was always so guarded and mysterious. It was part of the reason Revas was so attracted to him. So it had certainly surprised her when he confessed his love to her on the balcony. It was truly something she wasn’t expecting, but it made her feel so young again. It didn’t take long for them to start sleeping in the same bed together, being wrapped up in each other’s warmth and love after an exhausting day.

On this particular night, Revas rolled over to Solas’ side of the bed, unconsciously seeking out the warmth of his body. When she rolled over and found the spot empty and cold, it immediately roused her from the Fade. She slowly sat up and groggily looked around her quarters for any sign of him.

“Solas?” She called out to him softly, her voice was thick with sleep. She threw aside the blankets and grabbed her silk robe, wrapping it around her body to block out the chill of the room. She could only guess him to be in one place as she made her way down the stairs…The Rotunda.

Most of Skyhold was already asleep. The only sound she could hear were the soft sounds of her feet against the stone. It didn’t take her long to reach the Rotunda. She entered the room quietly and immediately paused when she saw Solas hunched over his desk in his chair, clearly buried in a tome with papers scattered all about the desk’s surface.

She knew this was a terrible habit of his. Solas would bury himself in his work to distract himself from what was plaguing his mind. Revas knew he needed his rest. He was a dreamer after all and whatever was gnawing at him kept him from doing what he loved most…walking the Fade. Revas quietly sauntered over to him.

“Vhenan…?” Her voice echoed slightly through the spacious room. Her voice seemed to catch him off guard. He lifted his head from the tome he was clearly engrossed in to glance at her with tired blue eyes. “Vhenan…Is everything alright? Could you not sleep?” His voice even sounded tired.

She sighed heavily and moved to stand beside his chair. “Solas…Come back to bed. You need your rest.” She chastised him gently. She knew he was running himself ragged and it was clearly affecting him. That made her heart ache. Revas didn’t like seeing him this troubled.

Solas sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before opening them again to look at her. “Vhenan…I’m fine. I just have a lot of things on my mind. I will come to bed shortly. I promise.” He turned his focus back to the tome in front of him.

Revas sighed once again. She knew how stubborn and strong-minded Solas could be. She only wished that sometimes he would listen to reason instead of thinking what he knows is best. She kneeled beside the chair, placing her hand on top of his on the armrest. “Sathan, ma lath. You’re exhausting yourself. Come back to bed. This can wait until the morning.” She pleaded softly.

Solas glanced over at her. Her greyish-blue eyes were filled with concern. They were silently pleading for him to sleep. He sighed in defeat. “Alright, Vhenan. I will come to bed.” He linked their fingers together as he stood, bringing her with him. “Ir abelas for worrying you.” He placed a soft kiss upon her temple.

She squeezed his hand gently. “It’s alright, ma lath.” She leaned forward to capture his lips in a tender and chaste kiss before pulling away. “Let’s head to bed, shall we?” The two shared a smile as she began to lead him back to her quarters.

When the pair returned to her quarters, they both settled in together under the soft blankets. Solas pulled Revas against his chest, wrapping his arms around her. He buried his face in her ivory locks and inhaled deeply. She smiled softly and tucked her face in the crook of his neck, placing a soft kiss upon his skin.

“Ar lath ma, vhenan. Hamin.” Revas mumbled softly against his skin. Her eyes were already becoming heavy. Solas soon began the pull of the Fade. He was clearly more exhausted than he realized. “Ar lath ma.” He replied softly, tightening his arms around her. They soon slipped into the Fade tangled up in each other’s embrace.

vinegartits  asked:

Been seeing these mashups going around and kept meaning to send you some! How about "fake dating" + "time travel"?

Thank you so much, I loved these tropes and I had to write something out. It took on a life on its own, and I’m sorry it took so long. 


A strange object sends Solas and Iwyn Lavellan back in time, right into a situation neither can control. Read on Ao3.

Iwyn Lavellan x Solas | Post-Crestwood | romance
rating: teen, time travel, fake dating, awkwardness, arlathan

Temporal Arrangements

Solas is up front, his back silent and broad. Iwyn halfway regrets her decision to bring him, but the notion is childish. He is the best choice for this mission. They need to investigate an overlooked item in Dirthamen’s temple. A scout had found it, sketched it, and said they didn’t want to touch it because it ‘glowed angrily’. A wise choice, probably.

Now, the scout is leading Solas, Dorian, Cassandra and herself through the labyrinth of rooms to somewhere they had missed on their earlier visits. Cass had sent her sympathetic looks earlier, when they had made camp. Dorian had been talking the whole way, trying to cheer her up. She appreciated it, but she is thankful he is silent now. Him and Solas can look at the item, spend the whole afternoon discussing it, then they can go back. Hopefully it will be worth their time. Hopefully Dorian and Solas will not need longer than an afternoon.

“Here it is,” the scout says a little later. They all crawl through the hidden door, and true enough, inside rests a strange object on a small pedestal. She agrees with the scout, it looks angry, all edges and an unsettling purple glow. She can smell the magic too, bitter like burnt mushrooms.

“Fascinating. I have not seen this kind of magic in a long time…” Solas takes a step forward and reaches for the object. The smell intensifies, and the magic grows. It is fast, or maybe she is slow. Dorian yells. Cassandra draws her sword. The violet tendrils reach for Solas, for his hand, twining up his arm. He flickers. He screams, or maybe she is the one screaming as she grabs him and tries to pull him back. Then the magic hits her, consumes her, but she doesn’t let go.

Keep reading

5ftgarden  asked:

Sene and Solas. Hands. Rooftops. The color blue. Make it hurt ;)

Wedding night, up on the roof. I hope it hurts in a happy way? <3 (for @dadrunkwriting)


Rooftops 

Sometime later, after all the comers had gone and the people had left the party, and all that remained were empty bottles and colorful ribbons and blue lanterns hanging in the garden, Sene and Solas grabbed what was left of the champagne and climbed the trellis up to the roof. This is not something they did very often. But when they were very bored and it was very dark–Crestwood could get very dark, though the moon was bright–they would go to the rooftop with a little booze, and they’d hang. It was their wedding night. For their wedding, the Lavellan clan had bestowed upon Sene and Solas thirteen acres of their very own fertile wine country up in Ansburg. The bottle they drank from that night had been grown from said family soil. It was a gift of welcome as much as anything else, but also a very expensive bargaining chip. 

“They want us to come visit,” said Sene. “All then time. That’s what this means.”

Solas poured them each a glass. “Obviously,” he said. “But who cares? Your farm is a pretty place, and this is a small price to pay.”

“It’s a little manipulative.”

“Maybe a little,” he said. “But there are worse situations, trust me. They just want to see us, Sene. Try to go easy.”

They touched glasses. They drank. Starlight fell down upon them like rain. 

“What were marriage rituals like before?” said Sene. She was still wearing her dress. He’d thrown his jacket over her shoulders sometime after the sun went down. “I can’t believe we never talked about it.”

“Weddings were huge affairs in Arlathan,” said Solas. “Any chance to display one’s wealth. Ghilan’nain’s mother was a wedding planner. When we were teenagers, Ghil used to drag me to her mother’s weddings all the time.”

“Seriously?” She smiled. 

“Once, I lit my own suit jacket on fire.”

“You lit it on fire?”

He nodded. “I was lighting a joint. The wind got in the way. It was my only suit.” He looked down into his glass then, as if it were home to all of his deepest, darkest fears. Then he drained it in a single gulp. “I’m glad we kept things small,” he said. “I liked our Dalish wedding.”

“Me, too.”

“It was a good day.”

He fussed with his cufflinks, removed them and put them in his pocket. They were fancy, a gift from Dorian. Then he rolled up his sleeves and took her hand. She held it open for him, and he drew shapes on her palm. Little frescoes that only he could see. 

“When Bull and Dorian come back in the morning,” said Sene, “we will be married.”

This made Solas laugh. “We will always be married, vhenan.”

“Yes, but there is something so immediate about tomorrow, isn’t there? Like all of a sudden, we’ll be whole new people.”

“I’m not sure,” he said. “I think we’ll be exactly the same.” He closed her hand into a fist. He pressed his lips to her knuckles. 

“Maybe,” said Sene. She smiled and put her face into his neck. “Are you gonna make pancakes?”

He smirked. “Yes, vhenan.”

“Bull likes blueberries.”

“Yes, I know, vhenan.”

“We should go swimming,” she said. “It’s gonna be hot. Who knows when they’ll be back in town?”

“Whatever you say, vhenan.”

Both of them were a cozy drunk and ready for bedsheets. It was a full moon. The bright moons of Crestwood were like nothing you’ve ever seen. Because the cities were so far away, it was like magic out here. Castles in the sky. Sometimes, if Solas looked real fast, it felt a little like the village where he grew up, but then that melted away and there was only Sene. And their weird little life. And after all this time, it still came down to rooftops.   

Inquisition Perks Chapter 4: Friends in High Places

Entire work link: Ao3

Chapter: 4/?

Chapter rating: T

Fic rating: E

Relationship: Solas x Lavellan, Solavellan, Solas x Maeve

Tags: fluff, flirting, pining, Solas being Solas

Chapter Summary: Solas and Maeve Lavellan get to know each other better while he works on the mural in her quarters after their arrival at Skyhold.


Solas had been spending a lot of time in her quarters lately, just not for the reasons she had been hoping to have him alone in her rooms. It was very kind of him to paint the mural. She knew it helped him relax and process everything that happened since Haven, as well as the constant closing of rifts and fighting what could feel like endless battles. Maeve could appreciate that side of things, needing something to escape into. A part of her hoped it was also, at least unconsciously, his desire to be near her as well.

Her favourite thing about it though, wasn’t just seeing it come together from a sketch he had planned out, to actual colour on the wall, but watching him do it. She wondered if he realized that he hummed while he worked, and sometimes when he was really concentrating his tongue would slip out the corner of his mouth and his brows would knit together. Often he was so engrossed in what he was doing he wouldn’t notice her watching him. She felt a sort of excitement in seeing him when he thought he was all alone. Other times she would sit on her sofa, legs curled up under her and a book in her hand while he worked, she would occasionally glance up to take in the view of his backside, which she was conveniently at a perfect angle to inspect thoroughly. He had offered to teach her his methods, but she had her own ways to relax.

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Post-Solavellan Rebound Romance Call-Out (fic)!

This is a Lavellan CallOut fan-ficlet, for those of us who are guilty of using Commander Cullen as a rebound or as a revenge-fling in a Solavellan or Solas x Lavellan x Cullen love triangle.
❤ ❤ ❤ 
This is meant to be a fun, healthy way to give our poor Commander a little dignity back. It’s, admittedly, humiliating for Halie, but also necessary, in my humble opinion, at least on behalf of the fandom and my particular ship.
It’s all in good fun, and I’m not targeting anyone but myself. 
(I, personally, think that Cullen is a good character and a good man, and genuinely comes to care for and respect the Inquisitor, so here’s my coping to Solavellan shippers’ mistreatment of Cullen❤ .)
Anyway, here goes!!


Nothing to Regret

Pairing: Cullen Rutherford & Halesta Lavellan – Building Boundaries

Rating: PG – Strong Language, Confrontation

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