#dragon age inquisition fanfic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

an-established-butt-dent · 4 months

Text

“Solas?“

“Yes, Vhenan."

“What are you drawing?“

He still has his eyes on the piece of parchment in front of him, but slows down the repetetive movements of his hand tracing the shapes on paper, as if that might offer him more time to find his answer. "Oh, just some practice. It helps me sort my thoughts," he says with the casual air of somebody trying to evade a question.

“Can I see, then?“

He glances up briefly and notices she has stopped reading her book on the early history of Neromanian magic. She has one elbow propped up on the table and rests her chin on her hand. She is looking at him expectantly, her book clearly forgotten.

He pauses the scratchy movements of his pencil and says rather hesitantly.

"It's not finished."

She leans forward a bit more, trying to catch a glimpse at his paper. He subtly angles it away from her. She might have barely noticed, had she not noted his newfound secrecy regarding his recent drawings. She has become increasingly curious over the past few weeks, and his forced casual demeanor after her question only fills her with more anticipation.

It makes her think of the first time he showed her his artwork. …

The first time she had walked into the rotunda in Skyhold and found Solas high up on the scaffolding with a paint brush in his hands and a concentrated look on his face, she was surprised to learn of his motivation.

"History needs to be documented," he had said when she asked him what he was working on.

After climbing down the scaffolding and taking a step back to admire the process of his work, he continued, "Not by the words of diplomats, but through the eyes of those skilled in artistry. Words will be forgotten, but images? Those will hold significance across time."

She had been moved then. By the bold lines in the fresco and the fierce look in his eyes as he regarded her as he spoke. Like she was someone worthy of admiration. Like he truly saw her. It reminded her of his words before their first kiss.

'You change everything.' He had said.

She didn't really believe him then. She didn't want to be put on a pedestal, far removed from the world and the simple and nomadic lifestyle of her clan that she was accustomed to. She missed roaming mountains and hills, not fighting blighted Templars and navigating treacherous games of power with nobles. That life had seemed like such a long time ago, even though it had barely been a year.

But perhaps she didn't need to suffer though all of this alone. She had her friends. Dorian with his jokes. Varric with his stories. Cassandra with her quiet support and camaderie. Iron Bull helping her with her fighting stances and teaching her new drinking games with Cullen. Even Cole, though he was still figuring out what the word friend even meant. She would help him with that, she had decided then. Friends; they made the aching pull of homesickness more bearable.

But Solas.

Who was he to her? She could call him her friend the supposed. She had the feeling they were becoming closer and yet there was an undeniable distance. Always leaving space for interpretation and mystery while never backing away from any of her questions. So much knowledge he shared, and still she had the feeling she barely knew him at all. He had slowly and unknowingly developed a talent for surprising her with new insights and he did so later again that same evening.

The next hour passed quickly while they were still talking about art and the different depictions of elven lore. He had stared at her intently for a moment, considering her.

"I want to show you something." he had said.

She never passed up an opportunity to learn more so she had indulged him, following him to a plain-looking crate to the side of the room. He removed the protective wards with a wave of his hand. He then uncovered some, by the looks of it, handbound books. He observed them one by one carefully, with a nod of acceptance when he seemingly found what he was looking for and handed her one of the books.

As she opened the first few pages she discovered they were sketchbooks filled with rough outlines in preparation for the next installment of the mural.

Excitedly he pointed to notes in the margin and spoke of where he learned the techniques for collecting and grinding his own pigments. There was a red ocre in the Western Approach that he had recently discovered on one of their missions which was apparently incredibly well suited for his purpose. At her encouragement he had shown her more of of his other drawings too. First of symbolism and color studies, but then more personal ones: of the views of the mountains from Skyhold, running Halla, drying herbs and even of some of the members of the inquisition she recognized.

In turn she told him about how she used to carve wood, especially when winters were rough and her clan was stuck in the same place for long waiting out the biting cold and punishing snow. To keep her fingers from freezing and her mind from wandering to dark places, she had started to carve.

"I haven't had the time since, well you know, this whole mess." she waved the fingers of her marked hand which flashed a sliver of green. Solas had looked thoughtful after her comment, almost like there was a tinge of regret behind his eyes.

The conversation steered in a different direction afterwards, like the seriousness of their predicament weighted more heavily on their shoulders than before. The mysterious books disappeared back into the chest and not long after she had excused herself and called it a night. Somehow she couldn't shake the feeling she had overstepped.

A few days later she returned from a short scouting mission. She climbed the steps to her sleeping quarters, exhausted. She hardly noticed there was an odd-shaped package leaning against her bedroom door until she almost stumbled over it. Her tiredness trading itself for curiosity, she moved to pick it up.

There was no note attached but once she unwrapped the bundle she discovered a beautiful and distinctive elven carving knife and a solid piece of oak wood.

She couldn't help the warm feeling that spread though her body, feeling the comforting weight of the wood and the cool metal of the knife in her hands.

….

She shakes her head as she's brought back to the present. That same rotunda they have since spend so much of their time together. Researching, reading and talking. There had been barely an evening where she didn't end up in the rotunda with Solas. At least when she wasn't away from Skyhold, trying to save the world on missions throughout Thedas.

She looks at Solas from her spot at the table with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

It takes a lot of effort to hide her smile.

Whith an amused tilt to the corner of her lips she says, "You know, Dorian told me he found some sketchbooks laying around, depicting a rather familiar elf. Anything you would know about that?"

Is he… Is he blushing?

"Um, Well you see." he cleares his throat trying to school his expression. "Those were private… And hidden for a reason."

She can't contain a smile. Solas flustered, that's a rare sight.

"You've seen them?" he askes quietly. She notices he has started fumbling with the edges of the paper. She didn't believe his ears could turn a brighter shade of pink.

"Maybe," she says while averting her eyes to the ceiling. She glances back to him out of the corner of her eyes.

Solas looks at her like she has grown an extra pair of ears.

She leans back in her chair and stretches out her legs comfortably under the table. Knowing she has him she doesn't want to push more and decides to spare him some of her teasing. She turns to look at him and softens her expression.

"I rather liked them."

Knowing that is probably not enough to explain why she had looked at his private belongings without permission and seeing the dumbfounded expression on his face slowly making space for embarrassment she decides to tell the whole story.

"I know shouldn't have overstepped, but Dorian said he had something urgent to discuss and before I was even halfway up the stairs he assaulted me with flying books, shouting about discovering my secret admirer. Either I would have stumbled to death or caught them. And, well… Once I started looking I couldn't look away… " she trails off with a slight tinge of shame in her voice.

"You liked them?“

She lookes at him, surprised by the hopefulness in his voice.

A wave of understanding washes over her.

He hid the drawings from her, not because he didn't want her to see them but because he was afraid of her rejection. Even though they had spent the last few months becoming more and more tangled up with each other, stealing fleeting glances and sometimes passionate kisses, they still hadn't really taken a moment to talk about what there was between them.

When she saw the drawings he made of her she had finally understood his interest in her was genuine and went beyond anything resembling a casual dalliance - something she can now confess to have been rather afraid of, because she had developed deeper feelings for him from the moment he started sharing detailed stories dreamt in the fade and his perspective on magic intertwined with life. And then there had been that first kiss… Wel let's just say she's in way too deep to turn back now.

And for all the effort he put into keeping emotional distance between them, he had apparently failed from the moment he had started putting her likeless on paper. For she could see the passion and emotion in the lines, soft shadows and hidden meanings. It made them stand out from all the other drawings she had seen by his hand.

What he couldn't yet put into words, he had found a different way of showing.

"Yes I-" suddenly feeling unsure she pauses for a moment and crosses her arms looking for the right words. "The drawings, they reminded me of who I could be." She takes a deep breath finds her courage and continues. "Someone who people will tell stories about. Not stories about Divine intervention, but of an elven woman's fight for justice. For a kinder world. Somehow I never really managed to see myself that way when I look in the mirror. But those drawings… I guess it's easier to understand who I've become by seeing myself through your eyes. To see the change I'm part of, but most of all to remind myself of where I came from."

She had uncrossed her arms and angled her body towards him over the table. A determined expression rests on her face. He hadn't taken his eyes of her from the moment she started talking.

He looks at her thoughtfully for a moment, considering his reply.

"Very well" he says while some of the tension visibly drains away from his body. She raises her eyebrows in question. "Then it's only time you started showing me your carvings in return. Some good blocks of wood have gone missing. I overheard Blackwall complaining about recently." He shares the accusations with a bemused smile on his lips.

Now it was her turn to blush.

"I was planning on showing you, but first I wanted to practice… " she trailed off her sentence, knowing she doesn't actually have a valid excuse for hiding it from him. And it was not like she hadn't backed him into a corner first.

Feeling relieved he wasn't pulling away at her recent discovery she changes her mind with newfound courage and stands up abruptly while extending her hand in invitation. The purpose of their late night reading session forgotten.

"You're right. And I'm willing to offer you a tour of my recent carving exploits, but only if you can refrain from commenting over the woodchips carpeting the floor." He starts to move as if to get up but she makes him pause as she isn't done yet. "But in turn I will pose for your next drawing." Solas looks at her confused for a moment, as if considering her question.

She pauzes for a moment and adds without hesitation.

"Naked."

"What?"

"That's right."

From a balcony upstairs they could hear some muffled movement followed by a familiar voice echoing down "You know Solas, if you're looking for nude models you only need to ask!"

"Dorian!" they say in unison, horrified.

Solas quickly tucks the sketches under his arm and stands up to grasp her hand, surprising her by pulling her close so fast she has to steady herself with her other hand landing on his chest.

Only a breath away from her ear he says softly so only she can hear.

"It seems like you found yourself a deal, ma Vhenan."

She squeezes his hand in response and when she looks at him there isn't a hint of his previous embarrassment. Instead there is a look of hunger and challenge in his eyes. It's so easy then, to lean over and kiss him, her lips a promise and Dorian's earlier interuption temporarily forgotten. Before she can get lost in the soft press of his lips she pulls back and feels a delighted thrill in the way he slightly chases them as she takes a step back. With a teasing smile on her lips she tugs on his hand bringing him back to reality and encouraging him to follow. As they make their way quietly towards the door she throws a judgemental look over her shoulder towards where she imagines Dorian to be hiding.

She is just able to make out a muffled conversation on the first floor "… These lovesick fools seem to keep forgetting this is a public space, if they don't want an audience they should find a room!"

Not sure if she should be terribly embarrassed or slightly thankful for Dorians intervention she doesn't manage to hide her smile.

"Let's get out of here then." she says as they start to make their way through Skyhold.

He squeezes her hand.

"Gladly."

#solavellan #solavellan hell #solas x female lavellan #solavellen hell #solavellen fanfiction #dragon age inquisition #No one can convince me otherwise that this scene hasnt happened #bioware robbed us from this being a real cutscene in the game #I mean dont you just love the idea of Solas sharing his passion for art and history with lavellan?#and all this time at skyhold #for sure she has run into him a few times covered in paint #and i just love the headcannon that solas ans lavellan forget they have an audiance of Leliana #Dorian and Fiona sharing popcorn and betting on who will make the first move #and you just know the frustration Dorian has felt #seeing the fools in love while they barely make a move at each other aside from fleeting glances #he had to get involved somehow #imagine dorian spending weeks on tearing down the magical wards on that chest #just to findout it filled with portraits of lavellan #LOL #dragon age inquisition fanfic #the dread egg #solas #solasmance #inquisitor lavellan #writing and artwork by me #acrylic ink and finelines on bamboo paper

81 notes · View notes

blarrghe · 3 months

Text

The Hunter, the Snake, and the Fox

M | No Warnings Apply | M/M | Pavellan | Canon-Divergent

Summary:

When Magister Dorian Pavus' expedition meets unexpectedly with a clan of unhappy Dalish elves, First Taren Lavellan may be the unhappiest among them. Unhappier still to be put to the task of helping to see his quest through. This is the tale of how a fortnight in the forests of the Free Marches can change everything.

Ch. 2/28: No Harm Done

Snippet:

Dorian regained his footing, propping himself up with his staff. With a quick push of his will, a barrier of repelling, blue-tinged magic sprang into place around himself and Sylvanna, who braced beside him. He looked up to find a pair of bright eyes looking back at him from the brush beyond the path. Dorian rose and turned slowly, glancing about his periphery. Behind where he had just been standing was a tree with an arrow lodged deep into its bark.

Dorian tensed, his posture rising up straight and his hand tightening to a secure grip around his staff. He hadn’t brought his best, travelling instead with one that was more practical for the venture; a metal cane of a walking stick with a simple core. No flashy enchantments, no exposed lyrium crystals. It wasn’t an expedition looking for a fight with more than a few giant spiders. The other two Magisters had their magic, but not their youth. Crastus was spry enough, Dorian gathered, but a downright waste of a mage. The four bodyguards in their company might have been able to make up the difference, but the remainder of Augustus’ and Prycis’ slaves were utterly defenceless. A fighting force they were not.

He held up a hand in a signal to hold. Who knew how many more archers lay waiting in that thick mess of trees?

DAFF tage list: @warpedlegacy @rakshadow @rosella-writes @effelants @bluewren @breninarthur @ar-lath-ma-cully @dreadfutures @ir0n-angel @inquisimer @crackinglamb @theluckywizard @nirikeehan @oxygenforthewicked @exalted-dawn-drabbles @melisusthewee @agentkatie @delicatefade

#the hunter the snake and the fox #my fic #my writing #dragon age #dragon age fanfic #dragon age inquisition #dragon age inquisition fanfic #lavellan x Dorian #pavellan #enemies to lovers #da:i #canon divergence

23 notes · View notes

marikamalia · 22 days

Text

I am rewriting and translating old fic of mine. The story's structure follows the game's progression quite faithfully, but I change and embellish many things - and add more angst. Lots and lots of angst. xD

#Slow Burn #Angry Cullen #dragon age inquisition #dragon age inquisition fanfic #avvar #cullen rutherford #cullen x inquisitor #Cullen is a dick #and so is the Inquisitor #sorry not sorry #angst #angst angst angst #eventual smut

8 notes · View notes

jennguyen-draws · 6 months

Text

Solas in a Costco. If you’re wondering what’s that about please go read The Corrupt and the Wicked <3 <3 <3

Ao3 Synopsis: Antonia "Tony" Artura Dorotea Gonzalez: teacher by day, bartender by night, Herald of Andraste by unlucky circumstance. After an attempted robbery outside of her apartment ends in a stray bullet hitting her in the chest, she falls unconscious and wakes up in Thedas, the world of Dragon Age. Unfortunately, she has never played the games, and has nothing but her own intuition to guide her. Her intuition says that there are a lot of assholes in Thedas. If you like Modern Day Girl in Thedas trope and FemaleInquisitor/Cullen Rutherford ship 🙈 than you should really check out this gem of a story.

Other DAI fanart for this fic: Non-platonic walk around the garden

#Jendraws #Dragon age inquisition #solas dragon age #fanfic rec #dai fanfic rec #dai #dragon age inquisition fanfic #fanart of fanfic #modern girl in thedas

11 notes · View notes

britcision · 10 months

Text

Someone very special to me has not died for another whole entire year so to celebrate… well, I heard this song, and my heart went “DORIAN”

Enjoy?

@ekwolfwood 10/10 great job also do not die next year please

Brian Falduto fucking gets me I’d never have found this song again if not for the album name

———————

Hottest Guy Here

Varric and Dorian exchanged knowing looks. They’d been observing… well, some truly disastrous flirting between Lavellan and their own good commander from across the bar.

It had been great. Varric got them a couple bowls of peanuts, there was a free show, Cullen went at least six shades of red once he’d worked out that Lluciano was in fact flirting.

And then the commander had downed his drink, said something neither of them caught, and left.

Lluciano, poor guy, was still sat at the same table, sipping his own drink and occasionally glancing around.

Finally Dorian sighed.

“He still thinks Cullen is coming back, doesn’t he?” He asked rhetorically, already resigned to the answer.

Varric chuckled into his ale and downed it.

“Look at him. Is that a man who knows he’s been walked out on?” He shot back, then set his mug on the table and stood. “C’mon.”

Dorian hesitated a moment longer, looking from his drink to the still happily waiting elf. Lavellan was kicking his legs under the chair now, not a care in the world.

“Oh Maker I didn’t think you’d want to get involved,” he whined, quickly finishing his drink too. Varric gave him a slap on the shoulder that nearly made him drop it.

“Someone’s gotta, or the kid will wait at that table til the sun comes up and Cadash will have all our asses.”

That was inarguable, and Dorian may have still grumbled, but he didn’t delay further. Although apparently he didn’t quite stand fast enough for Varric.

“Besides, he’ll be sadder if no one tells him. D’you really want to leave him to work it out on his own?” The dwarf asked and Dorian heaved another sigh, shoving away from the table.

“Yes, yes, you’ve made your point. He’s far too pretty to be left moping.” And quite possibly would wait for Cullen well into the next day.

Eagle eyed as he was to identify plants in the wilds or spot an attack, Lluciano Lavellan was completely fucking oblivious to all else.

Especially the discomfort of a certain blond man in armour who couldn’t handle the addition of pretty young men to his preferences.

Frankly Dorian thought that the sooner he made up his mind the happier they’d all be, since Lluciano adored him. And didn’t seem to have noticed that the friendly flirting he’d apparently always engaged in had begun to mean something rather different to the commander.

Dorian blamed Cadash. Not because he thought the dwarf had anything to do with it, he just liked assigning them the fault for any inconvenience.

It wasn’t like they did anything but enthusiastically agree.

Lluciano greeted them warmly as they approached, just a hint of pink tinting his green veined cheeks. He still looked happy as could be, even if he did glance at the door Cullen had left through.

“Hello! Would you like to join us? Cullen should be back soon, we were just talking,” the elf said brightly, nodding to the other two chairs at the table.

Varric slipped deliberately into Cullen’s, a sympathetic smile on his face.

“I don’t think the commander’s coming back, Petals,” he said softly, under the hubbub. Seemed to notice something on the ground, his brow furrowing.

Lluciano just looked adorably confused.

“What? No, we were having such a good time, he’ll…”

Dorian couldn’t bear it. He threw himself into the seat on the other side of Lavellan, tossing an arm around the skinny elf.

“I’m sorry my dear Inquisitor, but I’m afraid it’s true. Very rude of him not to say goodnight and all that, but the man has fled.” He tried to say it as nicely as possible, but the words left a bitter taste in his mouth.

A little too fresh off the talks with his father, perhaps. His patience for this brand of intolerance was at an all time low.

He regretted it as Lluciano’s face crumbled.

“Did I do something wrong?” The elf asked them both, looking from one to the other in desperate entreaty. It drew Varric’s attention back to him and the dwarf reached out to quickly pat his hand.

“Nothing at all, Petals. Not your fault,” he hurried to reassure their herald.

Dorian huffed, his own grip tightening almost defensively around the man, pulling him back against Dorian’s chest. Lluciano let out the most delightful little squeak.

“The good commander has likely only just heard the scandalous rumours about you and I and finally come to the conclusion that perhaps you are actually showing interest when you flirt with him. How it took this long is a miracle to me,” he added darkly.

Cheeks now very flushed, Lluciano did his best to turn and face Dorian without actually pulling away.

“Scandalous rumours? About us?” He asked, voice just a little higher than usual.

Dorian should have stopped. Drawn back, apologised, he was fully aware of it. But he’d downed more than half a pint of ale on top of the three he’d already had with Varric trying to forget his father existed.

He leaned forward, resting his chin on Lavellan’s shoulder.

“Oh, you know. I’m the devious Tevinter magister who wormed my way into the Inquisition by seducing the good, pure Herald of Andraste,” he purred, and there was no way he couldn’t have felt the shiver that ran through Lluciano.

Well shit. Maybe the elf had been flirting with Dorian with purpose too. Dorian had hoped, but Lluciano was just so eager to flirt with anyone and everyone.

Not that he was going to think any better of Cullen for possibly not having noticed the same.

Lluciano was speechless for a long moment, but it most certainly didn’t feel like a rejection. Varric disappeared briefly under the table and for a hazy moment Dorian very seriously considered setting the elf on top of it and showing the whole tavern what Cullen was missing.

Then Varric resurfaced, slapping something down onto the middle of the table and startling Lluciano into jumping right out of the mage’s arms.

“Well look what I found!”

Dorian very seriously considered sending some choice spells his way, but those considerations vanished immediately when he saw what Varric had found. A nasty smile tugged at his lips.

“Well, well. Is that the good commander’s coin purse?” He asked innocently.

Lluciano seemed surprised, like he’d forgotten Cullen had been there at all. Well, good for him.

“Oh no, did he leave it? Maybe he will come back after all…” it wasn’t quite the same hopeful tone as before either. Even better.

Varric shook his head expansively, scooping the purse back towards him.

“No, no, this is clearly an apology. He doesn’t want his issues to ruin your night, so he’s left it so he can buy you some more drinks,” he explained with complete certainty.

Lluciano still looked a little sceptical, but Dorian was definitely picking up what the dwarf was putting down. He nodded vehemently, turning and waving to the bar.

“Shots of your best whiskey for the table, on Commander Cullen. Actually, shots for the whole bar!” He decided, to a round of cheers.

Cabot looked a little sceptical, but Dorian caught his eye and gave him a significant look. After all, it wasn’t him who’d be tipping, it was Cullen.

Teach the man to run away from his problems. And besides, he was Skyhold’s military commander. The only reason he paid for anything in the fort was because he was too polite not to.

There was a run on the bar for the free shots, but Cabot made sure that they got theirs first. Cutting through the crowd and swatting hands, he delivered the three smaller glasses and a bottle.

“Gonna take a while to clear that lot. Seems like you gentlemen may need refills.” His usually gruff tones did absolutely nothing to show if he’d caught on, or what he thought of the ruse.

If it even counted as a ruse, since Cullen had left his coin purse himself. They had just found it, and like good friends they would return it to him.

A little lighter than they’d found it, perhaps, but that was the finder’s fee. And a little extra for trying to disappear without a word on a sweet man who hadn’t even done anything differently from their past dozen conversations.

Whatever reluctance Lluciano may have had on finding the purse disappeared in the face of the benefits and he took his shot eagerly with Dorian and Varric.

And since they had their own bottle, the next round didn’t even have to wait. Or the one after that.

The singing started in around the fifth round of shots, which Dorian once again decided to share with the rest of the bar. They did a rousing toast to commander Cullen as the bar once again disappeared behind bodies.

The bard hadn’t quite finished her little ditty to their good commander, but the Inquisition was fast developing its own drinking songs, and once they persuaded her to share what she had

(Cullen’s coin purse once again a factor, in the form of an extra strong bottle of Dalish wine)

They all took turns ad-libbing their own verses. Lluciano’s was rather sweet, for all that it ended in an ode to the good commander’s ass.

Dorian’s follow up was a little less touching, but it wasn’t like he’d had much time to get to know the commander. Other than that he was also an excellent cheat at board games.

Both got cheers though, as did every other attempt to sing the praises of their military leader. The tavern was about half full of soldiers and mercenaries, the usual mix, and common folk who’d either sought refuge or made a pilgrimage to Skyhold.

What lucky souls had made it by tonight would certainly have some tales to tell.

The commander’s generosity was only one aspect of the night, though it was a strong unifier.

The Iron Bull’s Chargers arrived en masse not long after the party really got going (which may well be the first time Dorian had seen proof that they existed outside of the bar), and they had some excellent songs of their own.

Dorian found himself rather taken with Bull’s second in command, a handsome fellow named Krem who dropped by to greet their Inquisitor as a personal friend. Lluciano made the introductions eagerly and suddenly Dorian was surrounded by all manner of sweaty mercenaries.

Entertaining people, though. Fond of sharing stories, extravagant drinking games, and encouraging entirely-too-drunk elves to dance on tables.

Dalish led Lluciano in something that looked like river dance, involving a lot of bouncing and kicking in place. Lluciano wasn’t exactly great at it, but given how drunk he was just not kicking all their drinks off the table was a feat.

Dorian firmly refused to join in, but that didn’t stop the Chargers from sweeping people far and wide into their raucous dancing. Varric joined in enthusiastically enough, although as far as Dorian could see he was doing a different dance entirely.

All in all, it was one of the most enjoyable nights Dorian had had in years. Lluciano was happy, his exuberance shining like a star in the festivities.

Not that Dorian would ever admit that something so small would make warmth glow in his chest, but. It did. And took some of the urgency from the part of his mind plotting dire revenge on Cullen.

Maybe just a stern talking to. A reminder that it was no one’s fault but his own if he got up his own arse. And a much lighter coin purse, which should do the trick.

And, well, now that he knew Lluciano was receptive to his own attentions? Dorian took a moment when most of the Chargers had passed out and the party was finally winding down.

Lluciano wobbled his way to the bar and Dorian followed, giving Cabot a broad wink behind the elf as he tried to order another round of ales.

“Actually, Luci, I was thinking it’s time to turn in for the night,” Dorian purred, leaning up against the bar beside the elf.

Who jumped like he hadn’t known Dorian was there, turned, and pouted with the widest puppy eyes Dorian had ever seen.

“Oh, d’you have t’ go?” Lluciano asked, words running together in a combination of drink and pleading.

Dorian would very much have liked to kiss him, the sweet little man, but he was a gentleman. He would ask first.

“Well, I was rather hoping you’d accompany me,” he offered with his most charming smile. Lluciano blushed cherry red again and clearly forgot every language he’d ever known, mouth opening and closing soundlessly.

Finally he gave up on speech and nodded, slipping his hand through Dorian’s offered arm and tucking himself in close.

Fantastic.

Dorian was quite sure he couldn’t perform at his best, he’d had plenty of drinks of his own, but dammit he had a sweet and willing partner, his father could go to hell, and it wasn’t like either of them would remember the night with all that much clarity.

Waking up in the same bed the next morning could hopefully lead to some fresh encounters all their own, which they’d both remember.

Hell, if Dorian did his best, maybe Lluciano would stop mooning after Cullen entirely, and they’d all be happier for it. Except Cullen, once he worked out what he’d missed.

There had been rumours that at least one of the Heralds had been cavorting on the war room table. Dorian could probably take Luci there loudly enough to make Cullen turn all sorts of interesting colours.

Tonight though, Dorian was going to do his level best to finish off an excellent night with at the very least bloody good sex, Lluciano following him eagerly across the courtyard and back into the main keep.

Stumbling a little, clutching each other for support, they made it up the stairs and into the opulent chambers Dorian had fashioned for himself.

Lluciano threw himself enthusiastically onto the sheets and Dorian didn’t bother hiding his laugh, swaying back without the anchor of the other man’s weight.

Paused when Lluciano didn’t move.

Was he alright? Had he somehow injured himself on a bed? The man was trouble prone enough, Dorian wouldn’t have been stunned.

He was even pretty sure he could identify a healing potion if needed.

Stumbling closer, he prodded with the exaggerated care of the very drunk at Lluciano’s shoulder.

The elf let out a loud snore.

Dorian stared down at him for a while, this information sinking slowly through a haze of drunkenness and half-anticipatory excitement.

Of course.

Of course that was how tonight ended.

Sighing to himself and then dissolving into helpless giggles, Dorian kicked off his boots and threw himself into the bed on the other side of Lluciano.

Who dipped and rolled towards him as the bed sank beneath his weight, but the mood was well and truly broken. Dorian let him tuck himself up close, and just about managed to drag one of the blankets over the both of them.

“‘Rian?” A sleepy mumble came from somewhere under the mess of red hair now pressed to his chest. Dorian pressed a chaste kiss to the top of his head.

“Go to sleep,” he told Lluciano, and absolutely did not feel a blossoming fondness in his heart when the elf immediately threw an arm around him, nuzzled closer, and started snoring again.

Dorian’s resulting hangover was light enough that he was almost feeling charitable as he approached their good commander’s office.

He certainly hadn’t been pacing himself, but that Skinner woman from the Chargers had told him to balance his wine with water and it seemed to have helped at least a little.

Poor Lluciano was still in Dorian’s bed, whining whenever the sun shone through the crack in the curtains. Later, Dorian would have to see what he remembered.

And maybe take the chance to actually follow through on what they’d missed the night before. Gods, they might even both remember it if they weren’t uproariously drunk before.

All in all, he was in a rather good mood as he sauntered up the stairs, across the battlements, and pushed Cullen’s door open.

Cullen looked up from his paperwork just in time for his coin purse to land on the desk in front of him.

“You were utterly awful to Lavellan last night,” Dorian told him cheerfully, not beating around the bush, “but don’t worry, you’ve already made it up to him.”

Cullen’s brow furrowed, his face freezing half way through what looked rather a lot like guilt. He looked back down at his now notably much lighter coin purse.

“Dorian, what did you-” he began, suspicion beginning to build to something which Dorian frankly didn’t have the time for.

“Well first Varric and I had to inform him that you wouldn’t be coming back, since he’d have waited for you all night long,” he cut the other man off sharply, raising a brow.

Cullen’s mouth snapped shut. And yes, that was definitely a look of contrition.

“And then we made him feel better,” Dorian continued, satisfied that Cullen seemed capable of shame and decidedly smug about it. “You bought drinks for the tavern last night, Commander. Very charitable of you, and I’m sure our new recruits will be feeling right at home.”

He paused for a moment, considering, and then shrugged. Cullen had bought very generous drinks for the tavern last night.

Some of them might have forgotten they’d joined.

“Well, once they can tear their arses from their mattresses, anyway. And then I took Lluciano to bed, since that’s something those of us who aren’t afraid of the woes of being seen with a man can do,” he added nastily, looking down his nose at the commander.

A sudden hot flush bloomed across Cullen’s face and he stared down at the paperwork again, unable to meet Dorian’s eye.

Dorian almost considered letting him finish collecting his thoughts, just to see what he might manage to say. But then, where was the fun in that?

Dorian quite liked to roll by, drop some pointed commentary, and roll on. And he had a rather lovely young elf to get back to.

It wasn’t like Cullen needed to know what had or hadn’t actually happened in Dorian’s bed the previous night.

“And I’m going back to rejoin him, and don’t worry. I’m quite sure he won’t even remember your name by the time I’m through,” he added cattily, swanning out the door again and leaving it open behind him.

He heard it close again when he’d almost reached the door at the other end of the battlements.

Well, good. Let the asshole chew on that for a while. And the next time he wanted to push a sweet young man aside, maybe he’d at least have the balls to say it to his face.

Dorian, meanwhile, had some hangover cures to procure.

#dragon age inquisition #dragon age inquisition fanfic #dai #dai fanfic: hottest guy here #the four heralds au #four heralds au #dai dorian #dorian pavus #cullen rutherford #dai cullen #dai lavellan #dorian x lavellan #cullen coulda had some lavellan but he still thinks he’s straight #luci’s the biggest obstacle in the way of his own thot dreams tho #most precious boy happy birthday #Spotify

15 notes · View notes

foxymoxyda · 1 month

Text

Paper Shields

I've decided to post maybe a little of my Dragon Age writing because these stories have been haunting my mind more and more lately. I don't know how many I'll post or in what order, especially since I'm not trying to spread my scarce writing time among even more active WIPs. But I'll post a little and we'll see how it goes :)

Summary:

Cullen carries the guilt of his past deeds piled high on his bent head and broad shoulders, working steadfastly for atonement through full devotion to his Inquisition work. There's one death that weighs most heavily on his heart, that of circle mage 'Miss Almithara' --sweet, kind, beautiful, and inexplicably his friend. He's certain he demanded and was granted her death shortly after the Fall of Kinloch Hold. So how did he just run into her at a party in Orlais? Cullen x Female Elf OC Not an Inquisitor romance, though a Dalish mage inquisitor is in the story. Events of Kinloch Hold are a manipulated version of events (not totally canon), events during Inquisition pretty much are.

#cullen rutherford fanfic #cullen x OC #dragon age inquisition fanfic #paper shields #cullen rutherford ff #cullen romance

2 notes · View notes

glwritesff · 11 months

Text

I haven’t shared anything in awhile...

but i went and submitted stuff to DA Annual anyway. lol i doubt i’ll get picked. but i sat down and wrote a dragon age inquisition prose bit for it. i don’t have a title but i’ll share it below. :3

____

The drifting mists of the sea’s waves splash upon my face, the crashing upon the shore drowning out the cacophony of whispers in my mind.

“Inquisitor.” It’s a soft interruption, in that glib tone that can only belong to one Tevinter ambassador. “If you’re going to stare off into space, at least make sure you’re looking at something much more beautiful. Like me for instance!”

“Ah, but Dorian, my friend, if I stare at your face for too long, I will hardly get anything done. And I’d rather not have Josie after me to finish my paperwork. For when Josie gives the friendly warnings, Leliana’s threats of bodily harm are not far behind.” I quip, wiping moisture from my face and hoping my mage friend hasn’t noticed the tear tracks amongst the ocean spray.

He stares at me just a little too long, a sadness taking over his lips and brow, though he smiles anyway. His arms open in a shrug, but they stay wide and I step into them, feeling frail, strong, large, and miniscule all at once. ____

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #da prose #da fanfic #dragon age prose #dragon age fanfiction #dragon age inquisition prose #dragon age inquisition fanfiction #dragon age inquisition fanfic #dorian pavus #da: inquisition #inquisitor #my work #my writing #my fanfic #my prose #my fanfiction

5 notes · View notes

iawv · 2 years

Text

She Called Him Fen'Harel Chapter 13 - "A letter"

Read on AO3

Huge thank you to @shanevre for all the help with editing <3 You've been so kind and patient with me <3

@dinrenan & @arideya - thank you for reading my writing. All of your opinions and suggestions are precious to me <3

@serphena Thank you for the perfect piece of art you gifted me :)

The ice on the frozen lake cracked and melted under her fingers - fire licked across the surface of the water warming it. A bath was her only desire - soothing and cleansing. Fen watched her from the wooden platform where he lay. The light wind ruffled the wolf’s fur and whipped her hair into her face. Her thin linen shirt offered no protection from the cold, but she did not care.

“Herald,” a voice harshly shook her from her work. Slowly, she turned and looked at the scout. Of course they would send someone to see if she was still here.

“Yes?” she asked with an indifferent look and a calm, stern tone.

“Seeker Pentaghast requests your presence in the war room,” the young man looked startled. From his perspective, she must have looked like a wild witch - messy hair, a dirty shirt, the spark of fire between her fingers, and the wolf at her side.

She felt the urge to growl at him, but instead she just nodded. “Yes, of course. Please inform Varric and Solas that their presence is required as well.”

The scout glanced at the spot where she was crouched, but only nodded and left.

She sighed and lowered herself into a hole in the ice.

The frigid water was good, it was comforting.

She shivered. The water rolled over and through her like a cold, gentle hand. She lifted her head, gasped for air, and smiled.

Falherna and her advisors stood over a map rolled out over the war table. Cassandra had brought them together to plan for their journey to address the Chantry in Val Royeaux. Falherna arrived as quickly as she could, hair still dripping from her bath in the lake.

Cullen’s presence loomed next to her, and a drop of water from her damp hair fell softly on his hand. She watched him out of the corner of her eye and winced slightly. His finger twitched, thumb trembling as if he was trying to imagine what that strand of her hair would feel like.

She took a moment to straighten and then slowly brushed her hair over her shoulder.

She looked down at the map again, letting her eyes slide over the supply lines and outposts circling the war table. It was a simple tactic to distance herself from the Commander. She did not need a map to know the way to Val Royeaux.

“It will take us six days just to make the trip, even on horseback,” she muttered as she reached for a cup of water that was sitting on the tray beside her and took a sip.

“Shit,” Varric cursed from his place on a bench. He polished his crossbow as he watched her. Solas sat beside him, silent but engaged.

“I’ll find you a pony, Tethras,” she smiled, giving Varric a knowing look.

The corners of his mouth twitched in response. He really did not like horses.

“The four of you can leave at daybreak tomorrow. The horses will be ready,” Leliana said slowly.

“Good.” Falherna nodded, glad the meeting was over.

The last hour had drained her.

Still, she was curious about the letter Leliana had mentioned. It was sitting on the war table throughout their meeting. Fal dismissed the idea of grabbing it and running outside to read it.

“Any objections?” Leliana asked, as if she could read Falherna’s train of thought - the desire to rest, to be alone with Fen and read that damned letter.

The room was silent, the breath of all present held as Leliana made pointed eye contact with each of them.

They waited. The Seeker shifted, “None.”

“Thank you, Seeker,” Fal nodded, ending the meeting with a shake of her head.

As her advisors began to leave the room, she drank what was left in her cup. Varric collected Bianca and made his way to the door as well, she was left with just Solas and Leliana.

“This arrived for you today,” she offered the letter to her.

Fal accepted the letter with a nod of her head and a simple, “Thank you.”

She wanted nothing more than to know the contents of the letter now, but concluded it would be better to read it when she was alone. She didn’t know what sort of news it may contain.

The spymaster smiled at her before slowly making her way to the door, “I will leave you alone.”

Fal nodded and her fingers traced lightly over the writing on the front of the letter, but she was still aware of Solas’ presence in the room with her.

Solas silently watched the Herald as she leaned against the war table, her legs outstretched in front of her. She looked down at the letter in her hands, but he couldn’t tell what she felt about it. She seemed so composed and unmoved, giving no sign of her thoughts.

He shifted slightly on the wooden bench and waited.

“It’s spreading.” She folded the letter and hid it in her pocket. Her voice was clear, her gaze fixed on the moonlight outside the window. “The scar seems bigger. My skin feels thinner, like parchment.”

Solas could not see her face overshadowed by her hair, but he assumed the situation must have been terrifying.

“Examine it,” she asked, holding out her hand to him. “My magic does nothing to it.”

His pulse quickened as he stood. He wasn’t sure which was more exciting; examining the mark, or the possibility of gaining access to the Herald’s thoughts again. He approached her slowly and watched her face for a moment, the play of shadows and moonlight on her features, so young yet so strong that she seemed as stern as steel.

She clenched her marked hand into a fist, and he forced himself to suppress the desire to tell her to hold it open.

His magic tempted him, almost singing in his ear.

If he dared and had the strength, he’d reclaim it now. But he couldn’t.

Bitterness tore at him.

The Herald’s gaze caught him staring at her. Her face shone bright and piercing, and he swallowed a pang of embarrassment.

“Of course,” he said, keeping his expression calm and detached.

He reached for her still outstretched hand, and she slowly placed it in his palm. Her skin was ice cold, and he gave her a quick glance, but her gaze was trained on the mark.

He dared to wonder if it would give him access to the Herald’s feelings once more. He should have told her the truth, but he was curious. The ability intrigued him, but more importantly, it could give him an advantage. He had to get her to trust him.

“It could cause you pain,” he warned her.

“It hurts every time. It will always hurt,” she replied softly, her eyes absently fixed on the moon outside the window.

He frowned but said nothing, running his fingers over the scar on her palm, his gaze fixed on the pulsing green light.

He sent a gentle flow of healing magic into her palm.

The mark stirred, flickering as if drawn by an energy that felt familiar. She hissed softly and forced her tense breath through her teeth.

Her aura sparkled at him, pleasantly sharp and deep.

Solas was about to say something when the air around him shifted.

A feeling of pressure coursed through him. Something was building inside of him, yearning for release. It tasted like metal and rust on his tongue. He swallowed and licked his lips.

The air felt muggy, too hot and too bright to bear.

Suddenly, relief flooded through him and he released her hand.

Her voice rang softly through the empty room. “Thank you. I tried the same spell but it did nothing. I suppose if I cast it on myself, it may have a different effect.”

He heard her moving and glanced at her. She was standing in front of the window, her back straight, almost relaxed.

“That’s possible,” he murmured as he gathered his staff, not looking at her. He needed to think and do more research.

“I thank you for your help, Solas.”

Good manners demanded that he give her an answer. He paused for a moment to compose himself. He looked up at her with his face contorted into a stern, uncaring mask.

He bowed and said, “It was nothing.”

She turned slowly, her gaze implacable, with her hands clasped behind her back.

Suddenly, he became aware of her: tall, cold, beautiful, and concealing a power he felt nonetheless. She stood as still as a stone, as if she was waiting for something.

Was she?

Solas bit the inside of his cheek to suppress any unwise words. It would be too easy to say too much.

A knock on the door broke the tension.

“I’ll let you get back to your duties, Solas.”

Light-footedly, the Herald walked past him and opened the door to the war room. She greeted the servant with a tray that had likely been sent by the Ambassador.

She paid no more attention to Solas.

It was as if he’d disappeared.

Later that night, she followed the winding road down to Haven’s gate, exhilarated by the cold air whipping across her face. She grabbed firewood stored outside the Taigen's cabin and stepped inside.

"Dian, Fen" she murmured and patted the animal. He tried to playfully nibble her.

She arranged firewood next to the fireplace and sat on the floor. Fen nuzzled into her side as she returned. Her eager hands pulled out the letter, unfolding it to reveal familiar handwriting:

I am not surprised that you are still alive, boss.

The news is that the Shems have captured you.

I would like to see that.

I FOUND IT.

I will be in Val Royeaux in seven days.

Meet me there.

- Faron

Falherna read it quickly, then read it again. Her heart pounded as she stared at the rough writing scratched into the damp, thick paper. It couldn’t be…

After a dozen years of searching, there was one precious object that had slipped through her fingers again and again.

She scanned the letter once more, and her eyes locked onto three words.

I FOUND IT.

*dian - stop

#DAI ff #DAI fanfic #iawv's writes #Dragon Age Inquisition fanfic #ff #fanfic #solavellan fic #solavellan #Solas #dai #She called him fen'harel #my writing #solas #fanfiction

19 notes · View notes

dalishkadan · 2 years

Text

so the last chapter had a chess match (or seven) between the iron bull and mikayla ... this time, they get into the sparring ring ...

#ao3 #ao3fic #fanfiction #fanfic #dragon age #dragon age fanfiction #dragon age fanfic #dragon age fic #dragon age inquisition #dragon age inquisition fanfiction #dragon age inquisition fanfic #dragon age inquisition fic #mcit #mgit #modern character in thedas #modern girl in thedas #mage!cole #leliana x oc

7 notes · View notes

stephlynndrawings · 1 year

Text

Chapter 10 (9) of Heralds of a New Age is up!!

After two arduous weeks, the Inquisition and their scouts make it back to the Hinterlands to begin their search for the Grey Warden Blackwall before going to Redcliffe. The scouts spread rumors of possible love and the Inquisition grows just a bit larger.

0 notes

gaqalesqua · 3 months

Text

Even now, when Solas is threatening everything she loves, Lusia doesn't want to let go.

#solas x female trevelyan #solas #female trevelyan x solas #dragon age inquisition #fanfiction #dragon age inquisition fic #dragon age inquisition fanfic #dragon age inquisition fanfiction #lusianna trevelyan

0 notes

rosieofcorona · 3 months

Text

oh man what if i wrote a solavellan fic post-trespasser in which they remain secretly (and hopelessly) in love despite being on opposite sides of a war, haha

haha and what if i made it sadder somehow

what then

#yes this is probably too self-indulgent to share but #i'm at peace with it #also honestly he would prob not be a great father but that is what makes the idea compelling TO ME #solavellan #my fic #solas #solas dragon age #solas fanfic #fen'harel #dragon age fic #WIP obvi #dragon age trespasser #dragon age inquisition

117 notes · View notes

blarrghe · 4 months

Text

The Hunter, the Snake, and the Fox

M | No Warnings Apply | M/M | Pavellan | Canon-Divergent

Summary:

Notes:

This is a canon-divergent, enemies-to-lovers tragedy. I'm just gonna say that last bit once. Set in a canon-compliant Thedas where the Breach/Inquisition simply never happened. Other game-typical politics and prejudices are intact.

This is also a first for me in that this fic is already finished, and I will be updating weekly! Consistency! Wow!

Ch. 1/26: Master Pavus

Snippet:

The dawn rose misty. Soft brushes of pale white fog hung low in the air, painting the forest floor in a glittery dew. Rays of watery yellow echoed through the slats between trees in a faded memory of sunlight. It was quiet. The blue-grey soaked cushion of a cluttered forest floor insulated the small clearing where Dorian's company had made their camp. Only a few faint birds chirped, calling out desperate, lost calls in a farewell to summer.

Dorian Pavus woke damp in his tent, cursing the chill.

#I'm finally posting ittttttttt #pavellan #my writing #my fic #dragon age #dragon age fanfic #dragon age inquisition #dragon age inquisition fanfic #da:i #dorian pavus #dorian x lavellan #clan lavellan #enemies to lovers #canon divergent au #but also canon compliant ish? very much in the DA universe for a change #the hunter the snake and the fox #I'm so exciteedddddd

22 notes · View notes

alvivaarts · 6 days

Text

POV you're an Orlesian wandering around Skyhold and you walk into their meeting.

Alternate POV, you're Solas and you definitely weren't invited to the Elf Party

125 notes · View notes

jennguyen-draws · 1 year

Text

I feel like if I keep noodling at this I’ll go mad. Might come back to it later.

Short comic for a scene from chapter 22 of The Corrupt and the Wicked.

Ao3 synopsis: Antonia "Tony" Artura Dorotea Gonzalez: teacher by day, bartender by night, Herald of Andraste by unlucky circumstance. After an attempted robbery outside of her apartment ends in a stray bullet hitting her in the chest, she falls unconscious and wakes up in Thedas, the world of Dragon Age. Unfortunately, she has never played the games, and has nothing but her own intuition to guide her. Her intuition says that there are a lot of assholes in Thedas.

If you like Modern Day Girl in Thedas trope and FemaleInquisitor/Cullen Rutherford ship 🙈 than you should really check out this gem of a story. Hands down my top 5 DA fics of all time.

#jendraws #dai #dragon age inquisition #dragon age inquisition fanfic #fanart of fanfic #dai fanfic rec #dai fanart #cullen rutherford #female inquisitor #modern girl in thedas

18 notes · View notes

britcision · 11 months

Text

Anyway. This is why I finally put up the Heralds masterpost.

Because this whole idea was conceived and written at various 3ams, and it shows

Cole is just a sweet and creepy little man who likes to share his hobbies with his friends. Hobbies like watching you sleep

Sleepers

The first time, Lavellan was already standing over Solas’ sleeping form when Cole wandered into the elf’s bedroom.

Cole wasn’t specifically looking for either elf (although he’d been expecting to find Solas in one form or another), but it didn’t deter him. Not much did, even a direct instruction.

Lluciano glanced over at him for a moment, an acknowledgment that still sat warm and happy in Cole’s chest like sunlight. Then the elf’s bright green eyes returned to Solas’ sleeping form.

Solas liked sleeping. It let him wander into the Fade, travel secret roads and find old mysteries. Cole had always wondered if there was any way to see that in the body left behind.

Moving up beside Lavellan, the two regarded the sleeping elf together.

Maybe that was what Lluciano was doing here too. Lluciano didn’t like Solas as much as Cole did, but for once Cole almost understood that.

Solas didn’t like elves. Didn’t like the Dalish, who clutched at traditions he thought were all wrong, and didn’t like the city elves who’d become too close to human. And he wasn’t shy about showing it.

Solas did like Lluciano though; Luci challenged him, made him think about why he’d given up on all the Dalish. And Lluciano liked the spirits, which was pretty much Solas’ favourite thing about any person.

They’d gotten on much better once Solas stopped trying to speak down to him, but Lluciano hadn’t forgotten. And while he hadn’t been angry, or overly offended, or started a fight over it, there was something in him that was always cold to Solas.

That remembered having to prove against resistance that he was his own person, and should be treated like one.

Cole wondered what that would feel like too. Being so sure in your personhood, being able to put your foot down and demand to be treated in the way you wanted.

Of course, Lluciano wasn’t much good at the latter part yet either, but being around Cadash was a learning experience for both of them. Corin Cadash could put their foot down hard enough to shake Skyhold.

Cole had wandered the bedrooms plenty of times before. He didn’t sleep, and when that was what everyone else was doing, he didn’t have much else to occupy him.

He’d drift around, find the places where people were still up, some of them hot and wanting, others shaking and scared. Some reading, little snatches of stolen time by candle light.

Some just sleeping, lying there completely unaware of anything else in the world. Even less aware of his presence than everyone else, although sometimes they would react to him.

Some peoples’ faces would twitch if he watched them. Some people turned away. Buried themselves in covers, like even if he could hide from their waking selves, he couldn’t sneak past that little sleeping part.

That was interesting too, and Cole very much liked to watch the sleeping part. To see what disturbed them, wonder if it was himself or only their own dreams.

He could hear dreams, sometimes. Mostly the bad ones, the ones that came with shaking, shivering, screaming sounds strangled to silence.

Not Solas’ though. And Cole wasn’t sure if that was because Solas dreamed his way into the Fade, or just the sheer volume of the other hurts Solas always carried inside.

Solas was sleeping deeply tonight. Some nights, his face would twitch too, even in his Fade walking. Some nights he’d almost respond to Cole’s presence.

Cole knew he was much harder to notice than anyone else, than any of the real people who were flesh and not spirits pretending.

Harder than anyone except Lluciano Lavellan. Because the Fade magic in his hand and the sickness in his head had gotten all tangled together, and sometimes even Cole couldn’t see Lluciano.

Sometimes Lluciano didn’t even know he’d disappeared. He would just be invisible, or teleported away by the sudden spasms of a seizure.

So it made sense, really, that Solas hadn’t noticed him. Cole certainly hadn’t, and he didn’t know how long Lavellan had been there before he’d arrived. They could have almost been walking together.

Cole didn’t ask. That wasn’t nice; talking where other people were trying to sleep. He’d been told off for that a lot, now that he was travelling with other people.

He didn’t need to sleep, and could quite happily sit up for most of the night talking to Solas, Lavellan, Cadash, or Varric. Even the Iron Bull talked to him on watches, which was nice even if he was scared.

It made the scared smaller, and Cole was happy with that.

Until someone else would yell at them from the tents and tell them to shut up.

It wasn’t nice to talk when other people were sleeping, or to make noise, so Lavellan and Cole stood in comfortable, companionable silence side by side, both watching Solas sleep.

Neither of them wanted to disturb him. Solas probably needed to sleep more; that seemed inevitable. Most of Skyhold spent a lot of time complaining that they hadn’t slept enough, or longing for their beds.

You might think they would therefore appreciate having Cole’s presence there to watch them sleep, and ward away any loud noises or talking that would disturb them. Most of them didn’t though, so usually Cole made sure they couldn’t notice him.

Tonight, Lavellan was fully visible though, standing at Solas’ bedside as real as could be, so Cole copied him. Lavellan might not have known he was visible, but he usually wanted to be except in battle.

If he’d wanted to be unseen, Cole seeing him would have told him he’d failed. He’d had time to be less seen and hide, and he hadn’t.

So that meant it was probably okay. Solas didn’t like Cole to hide himself anyway; not from him. Solas always said that Cole was a good and gentle spirit, and anything he offered Solas would be grateful for.

It wasn’t what Cole knew was true about himself, but Solas was very sure, and it was nice to believe. Solas would notice if he were becoming a monster, although a deep down part of Cole knew that Solas would never stop Cole from hurting anyone else.

Solas didn’t think other people were worth as much as spirits. Cole couldn’t argue with him; Solas just wouldn’t listen, so there was no point.

Lavellan would. And if he wouldn’t kill Cole himself, he could get Cadash, and Cadash would kill anyone and anything they needed to. Especially if it would hurt Lavellan.

Cole didn’t know if he would hurt Lluciano, but he wasn’t going to assume he wouldn’t. He didn’t know how he’d think if he became a monster again.

But Cadash would stop him, even if they did call him self destructive and dramatic every time he asked, so it was alright. Nothing in the world could hurt Lluciano if Corin was around.

They had a very big shield with a special spring loaded part to make it even bigger just to be sure.

Lluciano wasn’t hurting tonight either. He did sometimes, when his body woke up without him in it and wandered the keep. Cole tried to follow him when that happened, just like when the seizures left him empty.

Tonight though, he was definitely all inside his body. Cole could feel the gentle hum beside him, knew his thoughts were buzzing around, but none of it was hurting.

Cole being there too was helping, which was nice. Just his presence being able to help without talking, or doing anything, or even touching was still a little new.

People knowing him, knowing he was there, and liking that he was there was warm too, soft and sweet like honey left in the sun. Not just the presence of another, the presence of Cole.

He was valued.

Lluciano wanted to touch Solas’ face.

The thought slipped in so softly, so gently that Cole might almost have mistaken it for one of his own, because… well, he did sometimes.

People didn’t like being touched when they were awake, not most of the time. And Cole always wanted to make people comfortable, so he listened solemnly to Josephine’s lectures and always let people touch him first, or tell him how they liked touching.

They didn’t mind when they were asleep though, and all the little skin hungers could be soothed so long as he was gentle enough not to wake them.

Faces especially fascinated Cole. They held onto expressions they weren’t making anymore, all the different lines and wrinkles from smiles and frowns.

He liked to trace them with his fingers, all the marks of past joys and sorrows. To feel them while they were flat and empty. And sometimes to feel the frowns deepen under his touch, lines becoming ridges.

People didn’t like him touching their faces most of all while they were awake, but most of them also needed the closeness of contact. They didn’t touch each other enough either, so touching them while they were asleep worked out best for everyone.

That way they could have the touch and feel better, and not be upset with him.

It was nice to know Lluciano felt the urge to touch too. He glanced over at Cole from the corner of his eye, and that small happy thing in Cole’s chest grew brighter as he realised.

Lavellan knew that Cole knew what he wanted to do. Talking without words, sharing just the feeling and knowing that Cole understood.

If only Cole could send a feeling back. To let Lavellan feel the way he felt, and know that Cole knew about the touching feeling too.

Solas definitely needed to be touched more.

It wasn’t the biggest ache that lingered, hungered under his skin, but it was worse than almost anyone else Cole had ever met.

He didn’t let himself touch anyone, and didn’t let them touch him either if he could help it. He didn’t want to get attached. Cole could understand that; when you got attached to people and they left, that hurt was the worst of all.

There was nothing that could fix it, or help. Just time to make the ache less.

But bodies had needs whether their owners liked them or not, and skin hungered to be touched no matter how much you wanted it not to.

He usually wound up touching Solas when he watched him sleep. Traced the long points of his ears. The harsh lines of his face.

The smooth, shiny skin on top of his head. Like the shell of a boiled egg, Sera said, but Cole had touched lots of eggs and they weren’t as soft. As smooth and with the same gentle give of flesh.

Solas liked Lavellan. He probably would like for Lluciano to touch his face, while he was asleep. Then he wouldn’t have to ask while he was awake.

He would have liked for Adaar to touch his face a lot more, and with her own face, but she wasn’t here. She couldn’t see well enough to watch people in the dark. Solas would have to ask her.

Lluciano was here now though.

Looking back at Lavellan for a moment, Cole did his best to convey his thoughts in his own face.

It didn’t have a lot of lines yet, because he hadn’t been living in it for very long. Varric told him his face was sad, all on its own, and Cole wasn’t quite sure what to do about it.

Lluciano looked at him, then back down at Solas. Back to Cole.

He really wanted to touch Solas’ face.

Cole tried a nod. Because yes, that was for agreeing. Lluciano should touch Solas’ face.

Lluciano grinned, teeth bright and white in the dark, and Cole felt himself smiling back. That was still strange too, the urge to smile when one of the heralds smiled at him.

When Varric smiled at him. Smiles were what happened when the warmth in his chest came up into his face, when he was happy and people were happy with him.

Lluciano was very happy with him, and with him being here. He nodded back, looked down at Cole’s hands.

Oh.

They could touch Solas’ face together. That would probably be even better than them touching his face separately, although they might get in each others’ way.

But then they could be touching each other too, and Cole could show Lavellan the way he liked to stroke along all the lines and wrinkles, and Lavellan would like it too.

Cole knew he would. Lluciano always liked learning about how people worked. And he liked faces, especially pretty ones like Dorian’s and Cullen’s.

They would have to get closer. Kneel down beside the bed together. Very close, shoulder to shoulder, or chest to chest, air warmed between them and sharing the sleeping time.

It was nice, not being alone.

A sudden, unshakeable feeling of wrongness snapped Solas abruptly from a deep sleep. Eyes jerking open, it took a moment for them to refocus on the real world, instead of the paths he’d been walking.

He was in his room, at the base of tower. Tucked away from his study. Dark, only the light from a brazier in the hall flickering.

He’d closed the door when he came to bed.

Someone had opened it.

Someone was still there.

Eyes darting about the room, Solas was about to sigh in resignation when he realised that there were two shadowy figures standing over his bed, not just the one.

Eyes narrowing, he pushed himself up on one shoulder and frowned up at the pair. Cole’s long, lanky limbs, as expected. And…

Lavellan.

Lluciano Lavellan was standing with Cole, both of them watching him sleep.

Because of course they were. Why wouldn’t that be another thing for the two of them to bond over. They already liked sneaking around.

Letting out the sigh, suddenly with infinitely more weight and feeling infinitely more tired, Solas flopped back onto his bed, eyes resolutely closed.

“This is not going to be my problem,” he declared firmly, and even his senses, strained in the dark and otherwise silent room at the base of the tower, barely picked up the sounds of the two moving away.

He would have asked Josephine about a lock for his door, if he didn’t already know Lavellan enjoyed lock picking.

Maybe a bucket trap instead.

“The bucket will only fall if I want it to. I don’t want it to disturb you.”

Solas’ eyes snapped open again at Cole’s simple, slightly confused sentence, and Lluciano’s cackling laughter.

He lay in the dark for a long time, but he didn’t sleep again that night.

You know it’s a good fic when someone has to keep putting it down because they’re laughing to hard to read it… or maybe that’s the 3am talking, right @ekwolfwood?

I warned you I would be insufferable about Cole

Behold! The master post!

#dragon age inquisition #dai #dai fanfic: sleepers pt 1 #cole dragon age #dragon age cole #he’s like a little raccoon #watching you sleep and touching your face with little criminal fingers #and now he has a friend!#dragon age inquisition fanfic #rip solas #solas dragon age #teach him not to discourage the creepy boys

16 notes · View notes