#character: iander lavellan

[queenaeducan-writes]

Because I Asked

Pairing: Solas x Iander Lavellan, Solas x nb!Lavellan Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition Rating: Explicit Important Tags: Modern Thedas, Flowershop AU, P*rn with Feelings

Summary: Ian wakes up with a mission: to be railed by his boyfriend and look cute doing it. Featuring @theshirallen‘s OC.

Morning comes too quickly to their home.

The soft light filtering through the blinds is harsh on his waking eyes, hand lifting to shield them from the breaking day. Ian stirs beside him, quiet groans protesting his sudden awakening. The strings that pull the blinds clatter against the wall, with Solas's eyes adjusting just in time to see a white tail dip out of sight. The urgent tapping of cat’s paws against the wooden floor echo down the hallway outside their room. “It’s not time yet,” Ian insists, his voice still thick with sleep, “Another five minutes, at least.”

“Your friend disagrees,” he says, eyeing the shadow that has returned expectantly to their bedroom door. Though intelligent enough to tell time, Merlin has yet to master the complexities of opening a tin can.

“Mm.” Whether Ian is agreeing or simply straining with the effort of turning over is difficult to say, and it’s left to Solas to get up.

The apartment seems to rise with him; the flowers that grow among the various sized pots that line the shelves and walls of the apartment open as though in greeting. Not as generous a hello as they might give Ian, but he knows he has a place here when even the night-blooming jasmine unfurls its petals as he passes by. Every day another piece of his life moves into Ian’s flat. One day he’ll wake up and find his old home empty, occupied only by the ghosts of his past. The thought draws a smile to his face as he peels back the lid housing Merlin’s breakfast, the satisfying crack of tin summoning her to walk figure eights around his legs.

“There,” he says in a hushed tone as he lays the bowl on her feeding mat, “quiet now.” She complies, though he supposes it is difficult to talk around mouthfuls of breakfast.

The remainder of his morning routine blends together, lost in the liminal space between dreams and the reality that lies beyond their door. He keeps an eye on the time, careful the haze of an early morning does not get away from him as he moves about the apartment. In that time he sees neither hide nor hair of Ian, but the sound of slow, steady breathing from their bedroom indicates where he remains. He avoids returning as long as he’s able, preparing an oft-forgotten lunch and filing his work papers so when the time comes he can be on his way. He even lies his bike helmet across his bag, so he is not forced to double back for it as he so often does, but there comes a point where he cannot avoid it any longer.

He guides the door to their room open slowly, dampening the way it creaks on its hinge when it swings too wide. Ian lies as Solas left him, curled on his side around the space previously occupied by him. Merlin has taken up residency since, napping off her breakfast in a sunbeam. A fond smile tucks the corners of Solas's lips, lingering upon the sight of Ian at rest, with his mouth slightly parted as if a thought hangs upon them.

Skirting the walls, he disturbs as little air as he’s able, collecting his belongings from dresser tops and bedside tables. It is only when he rolls open the door of their closet that Ian stirs. The whole room seems to hold its breath in anticipation, like the world before the crack of dawn. When he opens his eyes all the memories of the long night seem to disappear. “You’re awake?” he murmurs, twisting in a languid stretch beneath their sheets. “I thought my dream felt empty.”

A soft breath of laughter sounds behind Solas’ teeth. “Were you dreaming?” He sits carefully on the edge of the bed, pushing the hair from Ian’s eyes. Curls coil around his face like ribbons around a gift, stubbornly falling back into place no matter how he might style them.

“Maybe I was.” Ian rubs the sand out from the corners of his eyes and blinks up at him, squinting through the morning sun between ginger lashes. “But… I like this one better.”

Read the rest here on AO3!

#solas #solavellan #nb!solavellan #nbsolavellan #bi solas #modern thedas #nsft #pairing: solas x iander #pairing: romantic #rating: e #character: solas #character: iander lavellan #au: modern thedas

[theharellan]

rules & stuff

General

Thank you for coming to my rules page! I'd appreciate it if you could read over these to prevent future misunderstandings.

This is a Solas roleplay blog. Solas is a character from the latest Dragon Age game, Dragon Age: Inquisition. He plays a large role in the story, and thus this blog will be spoiler heavy. If you have not finished DA:I (and all its DLC) then please take caution when you follow this blog. I don't tag spoilers for any DA:I content and I would hate to spoil anyone.

Here are some basics!

mostly canon, semi-canon divergent

independent, elective

will roleplay with mutuals only

21+, not open to smut

single ship

tags triggers

Rules last updated April 2021.

Interaction

i am semi-selective & (mostly) not exclusive

I will only be roleplaying with mutuals for the foreseeable future. Starter ask memes may be turned into threads, but please make a separate post!

I will roleplay with multiples and do not practise exclusivity for either Player Characters or Canons. I have mains whose interpretations/universes I default to so that I can write in a semi-consistent universe. All duplicates I roleplay with exist in different universes.

i am singleship

This is the "(mostly)" part of the "not exclusive thing." On this blog I only ship with Iander Lavellan and am closed off for romantic ships. I am, however, incredibly interested in developing non-romantic ships- both positive and negative. As Ian is a companion OC and not Inquisitor, he exists in my Solas's universe regardless.

i reserve the right to follow & unfollow as i choose

This blog is not follow-for-follow. I like to keep my dash relatively slow moving. As mentioned, I do try to keep the opportunity for non-mutuals to roleplay with me or chat.

As for unfollowing (or soft blocking) I won't usually explain why, usually it's one of these couple reasons:

Inactivity (the main one tbh - if I see you're back I'll refollow!)

Offensive material (homophobia, transphobia, racism, sexism, etc)

Untagged Negativity / Vagueblogging (it makes me anxious)

Untagged character hate (especially Solas or Merrill hate)

As one final note on following: I don't send in passwords. I promise I read your rules before initiating interaction.

sending & receiving memes

Don't use me as a meme resource. Not all IC memes will work for two characters, so if it doesn't fit feel free to reblog. But OOC memes, symbols or asks you can send out of character, which require no interaction to send. I don't care if we're not mutuals, and I promise if you send me something I'll check to see if you reblogged it and send you something in return. I'm not a big fan of the "reblog from source" solution for non-mutuals, I just... pls. Send me something.

on messaging

I will not roleplay using Tumblr's IM system and prefer not to roleplay on IM platforms (Discord, etc) period. Feel free to message me OOC, it's open regardless of whether or not I follow you.

My Discord is also available for mutuals. Just shoot me a Tumblr IM or ask and I'd be happy to provide it!

Threads

please be patient

I am currently attending grad school and am a graduate assistant on top of that. Roleplying is a hobby, please respect that.

Before you message me asking about replies please check here for a list of my Solas threads or here for a list of Solas replies I currently owe. If you are on this page, I know I owe you. If you're not, please mesage me and let me know! I'd appreciate it, I like to keep it updated.

i'm open to any format

Banter, para, multi-para, novella are all possible. I prefer to reserve longer threads for plotted or intense interactions, and shorter threads for more casual roleplays b/c otherwise there's way too much navel gazing. Shorter threads are also much more likely to get timely replies.

I don't format beyond small text, and will roleplay with you regardless of whether you do or don't format yourself. I do use 100x100 icons (except in specific AUs where I have no icons to speak of), but am open to iconless roleplay if you don't use them.

Tagging

common triggers on this blog

This blog regularly features themes of slavery, fantasy racism, and mental illness (specifically: depression, depersonalisation/derealisation, ptsd). All themes present in the Dragon Age series will also likely appear here at some point, even if it's OOC discussion. These will be tagged when referenced.

my tagging policies

I track the tag #theharellan

I tag general triggers and will tag others upon request. My format is: #(trigger)+tw. For example a blood trigger warning would be: #blood tw.

I will also tag content warnings for things that include, for example, character death (like so: #character death cw).

NSFW is a rarity on this blog. When I do write or reblog something even vaguely NSFW it will be tagged #( nsfw )

For a full list of the tags I use often on this blog, please refer to this page here.

my tagging requests

For my comfort, please tag...

#Animal Death TW (especially pet death)

#NSFW

#Gore Images

#Negativity

#Solas Hate

My Solas Interpretation

I've been roleplaying Solas 3+ years at the time of writing, and I've expanded upon his interpretation over this time. Here are probably some of the most important things to know about my interpretation.

some notes for elvhenan-era characters

Please at least skim this post especially if you roleplay a character with knowledge of Fen'Harel.

If you roleplay an evanuris, please do not assume Solas is your friend! This has become less of a problem since Trespasser, but I'm keeping this just in case. He has no love for the evanuris (save Mythal) and will just want to fight you.

I am open to discussion so our interpretations of Elvhenan better match, but there are some things I'm not interested in changing. If you diverge from canon in a way that rewrites the evanuris as wholly benign and erase slavery from the narrative entirely, then we're not compatible.

some notes for everyone else

Do not suspect Solas of being Fen'Harel without my permission! He is canonically very careful with his identity. The exception to this will be Elvhenan-era characters, but even in those cases don't just sweep in and out him.

My Solas was not Solas first. What I mean by this is, he had several names before choosing the name Solas. I headcanon that Elvhenan elves had a pretty fluid view of names, similar to how Abelas likely was not the name that character was born with. That being said Solas is his real name.

My Solas is queer. He is panromantic, asexual, and agender. My reasoning for roleplaying him as such can be read here, but tl;dr there is no such thing as a cishet in Elvhenan.

As stated previously, he is in a canon relationship with the companion OC Iander Lavellan. I don't expect you to know the ins and outs of their relationship by any means, but it is common knowledge within the Inquisiton. You can read a summary of their relationship story here.

I write the events of Inquisition as having played out over the course of about three years rather than the canon one. My default Inquisitor does both Jaws of Hakkon and The Descent prior to the end of the game.

I've tweaked Solas's behaviour during What Pride Had Wrought to flow better. You can find a more detailed description here.

In canon Solas says some very bigoted stuff about dwarves and qunari. This holds true for my Solas, but I tend to write him as developing/learning better throughout the course of DA:I (which is supported in part by canon, but due to banter it comes across inconsistently). This isn't to say he's cured of his racism b/c it is always an ongoing process, but that he's aware enough to try to check himself.

His ultimate goal is to tear down the Veil and use his powers as a Dreamer to reshape the world to create a future for the elves/spirits- and, more specifically, the rebels he fought with before the creation of the Veil.

As one final note please refrain from making egg jokes at him or me. I'm so tired.

OOC Stuff

about me

You can call me Tas! I use she/her pronouns. I’ve been in the Dragon Age fandom for like 8 years now and I’ve been rping for like 18 years total. Probably more. I made this Solas November 22nd, 2014.

I have a personal blog (queenaeducan) and my discord is available to mutuals, just shoot me an ask!

Name: Tas Age: 26 Pronouns: She/Her Interests: Elves & cats

For Non-RP Blogs

Hello! I'm happy you're here! Feel free to send me inbox messages addressed to either myself or Solas. I encourage you to reblog my writing, meta, drabbles, graphics, etc! I only ask that you respect the fact that my Solas has a Lavellan of his own, and I won't respond to asks that imply another love interest. Also if I've reblogged writing from another rp blog, please look at their rules before reblogging it yourself. Not everyone is comfortable with it being shared throughout the fandom.

So in list form the rules are:

Send me asks

Send Solas asks

Like my rp threads / Like p much anything

Reblog my headcanons

Reblog my metas

Reblog my drabbles

Reblog my graphics / promos

DON'T reblog promos of other rp blogs

DON'T reblog text posts from other rp blogs without reading their rules/checking with them first

Remember my Solas has a love interest, and it isn't your Lavellan. Please don't send him asks about him being in a relationship w/ someone who isn't theshirallen(Ian).

If you reblog something I made/wrote pls remember I check the tags in hopes of seeing something nice.

Thank you!

#( ooc ) #( mod notes ) #[ for me to add to my sidebar for mobile users ]

[queenaeducan-writes]

14 Days of Dragon Age Lovers

Here’s day one of @14daysdalovers I probably won’t be writing Solian for every day I get to, but possibly for most of the days.

Day One: Flirty Banter

Pairings: Ian x Solas Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition Rating: General

“I don’t think it’s a sorry outfit.”

Unbroken sentences are rare upon Ian’s lips, at least in the short time Solas has known him. It’s as soft-spoken as any other word he speaks, but said with such assuredness that it draws Solas’ attention like a thunderclap, all else is forgotten when it is focused upon Ian.

“Excuse me?” Their eyes meet, and Ian’s gaze drops under the pretense of navigating the slope they’re scaling.

“I mean- I only mean that, I think you suit your clothes,” he says.

“You’re hardly any better than he is,” Dorian calls back from several feet ahead, though Solas can almost hear his eyes roll in their sockets. “Of course you like it.”

“What Dorian fails to understand,” he says, speaking to Ian but addressing the Tevinter mage, “is that attention is not to an apostate’s advantage. Catching eyes is not in our best interest.” It’s not a lesson Ian needs to hear. He’s seen how he ducks his head in Haven when Cullen walks past, Templar heraldry still glinting on his gauntlets.

“No, that’s true.” When Ian speaks, it’s not for Dorian’s benefit. His eyes still skim the grass, but the weight of his words fall squarely upon Solas’ shoulders. “But from the right person it’s most- most welcome.”

The way he lifts his eyes so they meet feels pointed. Solas swallows a heretofore unnamed emotion to coat his suddenly dry throat, lips clicking as they pull apart in a knowing smile.

“I will bear that in mind.”

Read this and future updates here on AO3.

#14dalovers #flirty banter #solas x lavellan #solavellan #character: solas #character: iander lavellan #pairing: solas x iander

[queenaeducan-writes]

Hey welcome and happy Friday! For dadwc, how about "using shoulder as a pillow" from the platonic touch list for Solas x Ian, my beloveds?

tysm for this prompt!! my heart grew three times in size imagining this written for @dadrunkwriting, ian is @theshirallen's oc <3

He had never been very good at sleeping.

As a child there had always seemed one more thing he wanted to do before he could stand to put the day away, his protests overlapping with his mamae’s evermore insistent commands. In the Circle there were noises, always. Templars patrolled their sleeping quarters, their footfalls swinging like a headsman's axe, and around him apprentices gossiped in their beds— or wept. Though most nights it seemed the tears that kept him up were his own.

Even once he was out, the nightmare followed him under the open sky. He’d wake with the impression of a sun-shaped brand floating before his eyes before it faded into the starlight.

Solas slept soundly, his chest rising and falling in even in even strokes that Ian could keep time with. When he breathed in, his ribs swelled, and their sides touched. Just for a moment. Ian felt it might kill him, his heart so full it could burst. He held himself still, muscles rigid, still held in the manner from when Solas first drifted off. The weight of his head was beginning to wear on his shoulder, but he didn’t dare budge.

“Y’know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you sit still so long, Twinkles,” Varric mused from across the campfire. A spark of mirth danced in his eye, it twanged a string of guilt in Ian’s gut. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” he snapped, face warm from more than the fire that lay between them. The biting response caught even him off-guard, and he pulled his face away to focus his attention upon his knees. “We’ve had- it’s been a long day. If a moment’s- a moment’s stillness can- I wasn’t-” The longer he spoke the more his words tangled. He stopped and swallowed, measuring his breath against Solas’s. “I didn’t have any plans for the evening.”

He was lying, but in Varric’s company that wasn’t a sin. He had inventory to take stock of, letters to write, and the Herald had requisitioned more potions for the road ahead, but they all seemed like far-off worries. When Solas woke he would have stories to share, memories he would recount with reverence, the commonplace made holy. Ian told himself that was why he sat here, still as the frost on the winter grass, waiting for Solas to rise.

And wishing for another minute of time to measure by his breath.

#da drunk writing circle #character: solas #character: iander lavellan #pairing: romantic #pairing: solas x iander #fandom: dragon age

[queenaeducan-writes]

Apodyopsis

Pairing: Solas x Lavellan Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition Rating: Mature Warnings: Suggestive

Apodyopsis: the act of mentally undressing someone. Solas finds himself hoping something more will come of tonight, but knows his desires are not the only ones which count. 

Canon divergent, featuring a non-Inquisitor Lavellan and a universe where Solas revealed the secret he had meant to that evening in the grove. Originally written for a meme prompt.

Read it on AO3 here!

Minutes pass in the span of a sigh, the passage of time unimpeded by their tryst. This world is apathetic to their affection, the stone floor beneath their feet the same as it was when they awoke that morning. Solas reminds himself of this in the gap between their kisses, centers himself in reality before he loses himself in Ian’s. They stand toe-to-toe in the center of the room– their room. The sun has set, their surroundings lit by candles that had gasped to life when he wasn’t looking. Everything is cast in warm colours, a halo glows around the crown of Ian’s head, through the wispy ends of his hair. When their eyes meet, he smiles, and the laugh lines around his eyes smile with him.

“You’re staring,” Ian says with a breathy giggle, his eyes fluttering toward the corner of the room before they return to him.

“Am I?”

Solas finds himself drifting, head bowing to brush Ian’s. He still smells of Skyhold’s gardens, of elfroot and sweet alyssum, and though the sun had long since dipped below the horizon, Ian’s scent carries its memory. Hands cup the back of his neck and pull him the rest of the way down, parted lips there to greet him. He sinks against him, forcing back the urge to smile at how eager Ian is to slip his tongue between his teeth. It is not always he is so daring, though it has been more often, of late. Perhaps Ian had at last noticed how his blood runs hotter, his whole body flushed pink. He strains against the fingers at the nape of his neck, just to feel them resist, drawing him deeper.

Their kiss breaks with two quiet gasps. The next is placed at the corner of his lip, a taste of where Ian’s affection may wander. Then, his jaw, then Ian sways forward on his toes to reach beneath the lobe of his ear. He giggles and sways forward, laughter tickling his neck, daring him to laugh. His mouth draws a thin line, hands moving to check his sides before Ian falls forward. Undeterred, the gentle lips at his neck turn to teeth, unafraid to pull.

The thumb at Ian’s waist slips beneath his shirt, stroking the outline of his hipbone. He shivers under it, pleasure warm against Solas’ throat. He contents himself a while with teasing forays just over his waistband, blindly exploring while Ian peppers his neck with nips that may bloom into purple flowers the next morning. Fingertips ghost over the fine trail of hair that grows up from below his waist, refamiliarising himself with the way Ian feels to the touch, without his eyes to aid him.

But Ian’s confidence is contagious, and inspires bold action. Fingers curl around the uneven hem of his shirt, the intention clear, but difficult to protest without words to couple with. He tucks his lips beside Ian’s ear, brushing the tip before he poses his question: “May I?”

Ian goes tense beneath his palms, though it isn’t the same as a moment ago. Gone are the short, breathy sighs, the tension that begs to be released, succeeded by a sharp intake of breath that finds no relief. “Solas–” he lets out half of it, speaking his name as if it were an apology. “I, ahn, I…” Solas waits, ears pushed forward to catch even the softest of refusals. “I’m–”

It is as close to ‘no’ as he fears he will get this evening, boldness fleeing from Ian. He drops his hand to his hips, smoothing down the wrinkled ends of his top. Once he may not have recognised it for what it was, now it is stark as night and day. “Say no more,” he says, straining a reassuring smile for Ian’s sake.

What he dreads is not the refusal, but the moment where all the warmth drains from the room, and Ian withdraws from him with an apology on is lips. They always come together later, his arms falling across his chest beneath the covers, folding over Solas’ heart, but he does not relish the uncomfortable in-between. It isn’t his fault, nor is it Ian’s, neither asked for this nor inflicted it upon the other. That knowledge, however, does not assuage the guilt that closes around his throat.

Tonight, no apology comes. Ian’s arms pull him closer, face pressing against his naked chest as he breathes in through his nose. Outside, Solas hears the sounds of Skyhold in the late evening, the distant prayer of the faithful from the gardens below and the rush of magic through the valley, racing the wind. The room’s warmth is not chased away, but nestled safely between them, nurtured by their heartbeats. Ian pulls his face away, lifting his gaze to meet his, soft resolve behind his eyes. “Can you–” He cuts himself off, teeth press into his bottom lip as he rethinks what he wants to say. “Give me a moment, please?”

A simple enough request. He nods, head bowing an inch to press his lips against Ian’s brow before he pulls away. The cool rushes in where Ian’s arms were wrapped around him, and a quiet longing steals over him as he pads towards the foot of their bed. He settles down, mattress sinking under his weight, naked heels flat against the floor. Ian angles his back away to the far corner of the room, elbows bending at sharp angles while his hands gather the bottom of his shirt together. It would be easy, Solas thinks, to summon the memory of undressing Ian, but even staring feels like an invasion he needs express permission to indulge, and so he averts his gaze, but he cannot mistake the sound. His shirt flutters to the floor, his pants follow shortly thereafter, whispering against his skin as he pulls them down his legs.

Bare feet move across the floor, hesitating for a step before they come to a halt between his legs. “You can look up, now,” Ian murmurs. He leans over, taking one of Solas’ hands and guiding it toward his hips. His eyes follow, skirting up naked skin to meet Ian’s eye.

Apprehension creases his brow, the unshakable feeling that Ian would push himself to stave off his disappointment creeps over him. “Are you certain?” His other hand find uneasy purchase upon his waist, thumb stroking small circles into his skin. He hopes to see not a trace of doubt in Ian’s expression, but then, that would not be who he fell for, would it?

Doubt aside, there is determination in his smile, a hint of confidence that had not left him yet. “Yes,” he says, “you can trust me.”

The response elicits emotion deeper than the pleasure he seeks in Ian’s body. Indeed it almost makes him cry, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. It hearkens back to lonely groves and tearful reunions, trust extended and accepted. Perhaps it was meant to. “Very well.” His head bows, brushing a kiss against the base of Ian’s ribs. “Tell me if I ought to stop.”

“I will.”

That is reassurance enough for him to begin in earnest. His grip tightens, taking Ian between his palms, skin bunching between his fingers. Ian is a different beauty from this angle, longer than his short stature might lead one to believe. Soft in the places he covets most. Solas reminds himself of how his heartbeat feels against his lips, hammering fast behind his ribs as the first quiet sigh slips between his teeth. He marks all the places upon him the sun has not yet kissed, pale skin shining pink where his teeth meet Ian’s flesh, pulling until he hisses with pleasure and pain. Where impossible freckles dust Ian’s sides he plants gentle kisses that ease small, delighted sounds from him.

He pauses, nose dipping against the hollow of his hip, his own breath hot upon his face. Bare hands settle against him, curling loosely across his shoulders. “Solas…” His name, spoken a second time, sounds sweeter upon his lips.

“Hm?”

“I didn’t–” He snorts, bemusement halting him, rather than discomfort. His belly spasms, pushing against Solas’ cheek. Laughter sends thrills through him more dangerous than his touch, a sound he had fallen for long before he knew. Ian breathes in, holding it a moment before he allows himself to speak again. “I didn’t ask you to stop.” There is pride in his voice, satisfied by his own remark, and joy, too, albeit tempered by his attempt to feign disappointment. His voice drops an octave, a low whisper above his ear. “Did I?”

Affection blossoms in the pit of Solas’ chest, rising up his spine, manifesting as a grin upon his face. He cannot help but hide it, face still buried against Ian. There is no hiding how his back flecks with gooseflesh, nor the sudden shiver that moves shoulders, steadied by Ian’s grip. The palms of his hands slide down to Ian’s thighs, fingers spreading to grip as much of them as his hands can hold. “My mistake,” he murmurs, punctuating the apology with a penitent peck to where Ian’s hips meet his legs. “Allow me to make it up to you.”

#solavellan #bi solas #solas x lavellan #solas #dragon age #fandom: dragon age #pairing: solas x iander #character: iander lavellan #character: solas #rating: mature

[queenaeducan-writes]

14 Days of Dragon Age Lovers

Here’s day four of @14daysdalovers

Day Four: A Favour

Pairings: Solas x Iander Lavellan Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition Rating: G

Note: A quick note: I interpreted "favour" as a "lady's favour," I hc Solas gave Ian his jawbone before departing to defeat Corypheus with the Herald. Favours often are intended to protect the love interest and are a promise of reunion, which is precisely Solas' intention when he gives Ian the pendant.

No one has noticed him missing, yet. It’s unlikely they will, barring accidents that demand a healer’s attention. The party carries on without him, and he is free to escape to the garden. To fill his lungs with the scent of dusk and roses, to sit in the earth and grow like the ivy.

But his lungs fill only by half, no matter how deep his breathes in, and nothing satisfies.

When he swings low, something else swings with him, a new weight at his breast that dangles on brown string. He’d seen it do this a thousand times, whenever Solas stooped to gather herbs or bow to kiss his temple. The low swing of his necklace would sometimes bounce against Ian, wagging almost playfully as he returned to his duties as though nothing was amiss.

With teeth he tears off his gloves, the fingers of his left hand fitting in the grooves between the teeth. Time had dulled them to the point of harmlessness, and they passed under his fingertips with little more edge than a riverstone.

Read this and future updates here on AO3. Ian was created by @theshirallen

#14dalovers #a favour #solavellan #character: iander lavellan #pairing: romantic #pairing: solas x iander

[queenaeducan-writes]

Stories of Thedas vol.5 - The Darkest Path

A series of ficlets featuring Merrill, following prompts from the Stories of Thedas Twitter.

Chapter Two: Ginger

Pairings: Merrill & nb!Lavellan Fandom: Dragon Age II Rating: G

The end of a story leaves a funny taste in her mouth. She always thinks there should be something that comes after, like the missing pieces are crying out to be heard.

It doesn’t matter, really. At least, not to the people she tells her stories for. Ian’s eyes are still fixed upon her, too shy to ask out loud for another tale, but not shy enough to pretend it isn’t what he wants. She wonders to herself if this is how Marethari feels all the time, and something curls behind her ribs, though she isn't sure if it’s envy or pity.

“Come here,” she says to him, “I’ll tell you another if you let me comb your hair.”

He makes a face, the freckles on the bridge of his nose bunching together, but her ploy works. Ian turns on the floor, leaning between her knees to await another story, his shoulders stiff at his side. She isn’t sure what the Circle did to him to make him fear a hairbrush— she isn’t sure it’s a story he wants to tell, or that she wants to hear. Not yet, anyway.

She combed first with her hands, his hair falling like fire in the gaps between her fingers. Stubborn knots catch and she pries them apart as gently as she’s able, humming low under her breath. “They say June was the first redhead,” she begins idly. “Legend tells that it was his love of gentle Sylaise, his heart burned for her like the red coal in her hearths.” Merrill takes the teeth of her comb and threads them through Ian’s curls as gently as she’s able, holding his temple to steady its path.

“My father had hair like mine. He… had June’s vallaslin, too.” Ian says it like it’s something someone told him once. Half memory, half story, wrapped in as much loss as it was love. Like most things are in life.

She’s not sure what to say, something she’s sure Marethari would chastise her for, if she were here. To be a Keeper was to be a guide, to the living’s hopes and the dead’s memory, but she could hardly find her way out her door some days.

“Then he must have had a lot of love he wanted to share with the world.”

#stories of thedas #stories of thedas 5 #character: iander lavellan #character: merrill #pairing: platonic #pairing: merrill & iander