theharellan

[theharellan]

I wanted to share a second excerpt from my contribution to the @solamancyzine​in honour of it being Dragon Age Day. The works featured in the zine are phenomenal, and it’s been amazing seeing them all pull together to make something that I think will be so special.

Preorders are available from now until December 20th, and proceeds go to the Indian Residential Schools Survivor Society. There are bonus options and pdf-only options, and pages and pages of content for any Solas lover.

Happy Dragon Age Day! @unofficialdragonageday

#( my writing ) #[ to be tagged ]

[theharellan]

happy dragon age day!

i just wanted to make a little post wishing everyone a safe and pleasant holiday season. chag sameach to those celebrating hanukkah, and an impending merry christmas and happy yule to those who will be celebrating those later in the month.

i’m hoping to be back on my dash in the new year. i’ve finished with the two fan projects i was a part of, and while i think i’m still going to be concentrating more on fic than rp, i do miss the creativity and community that comes with collaboration. <3

hope you all have a relaxing weekend xoxo

#( ooc ) #tbd #[ thinking about how around this time last year greg ellis was rping cullen on youtube to complain about sjws ] #[ oh how time flies ]

[theharellan]

Solamancy Zine Preorders Now Open!

Preorders are available for a limited time until December 20th, 2021! If you’re interested in some of our amazing bonus items and the physical zine, this period is the only time to order to guarantee you receive them! After this, all quantities are limited!

All proceeds go to the Indian Residential School Survivors Society (IRSSS). IRSSS provides essential services to Residential School Survivors, their families, and those dealing with Intergenerational traumas. 

Preorder Here! 

We have several options available: 

Full Package: (shipping not included and is calculated while checking out. International shipping is available.) 

This includes the the physical zine in all its glory, our PDF copy, all 10 bookmarks, 4 gorgeous stickers, 2 charms, and 1 postcard featuring Solas in his apostate outfit.

Zine Only: (shipping not included, shipping calculated while checking out and international shipping is available) 

This is for the physical zine and includes a beautifully printed copy for you to hold and own with all the art and stories at your fingertips! We also throw in the PDF copy as well!  

Digital Zine:

Get the zine delivered immediately upon release as a beautiful PDF. No shipping required! 

After the pre-order period, we will have limited amounts of bonus items and physical copies, so this is your only chance to guarantee you receive the bonus items and physical copy if you’d like them! 

Solamancy Zine is an unofficial fan-made project unaffiliated with BioWare. Please read the package descriptions before purchasing. Thank you for your support!

Preorder Here!

#( signal boost ) #( long post ) #( ooc ) #[ this is what i've been helping work on for the past month or so!! #for my followers who are big solas fans the works featured are amazing and the proceeds go to a good cause ;v; ]

[theharellan]

It is a disquieting revelation, knowing his worth does not lessen the more he is known; all the rage and misery Ian witnessed in him these past few weeks hasn’t lessened the love in his eyes. (x)

I had the pleasure of commissioning @artist-rat (commission info here!) to illustrate a scene from a Solavellan fic I wrote earlier this year. They did such a great job bringing the moment to life and I’m still screaming!! Look at them!!! They’ve in love and the world is a mess!!!!

Ian (he/him) is created and written by @theshirallen. He’s non-binary so please don’t tag this m!solavellan or f!solavellan please and thank you!

#[ yes they consume my thoughts daily why do u ask ] #[ tumblr has forgotten all my tags so i may just redo my solian one when im Back but for now look at them!!! look!! at them!! ] #to love without agenda ( ian )

[theharellan]

Anne Carson, The Beauty of the Husband

#all gods are disposable. you would know ( evanuris ) #in quoting others‚ we cite ourselves ( quotes )

[theharellan]

✧ WHOCANRETELL | rivka

@theharellan​

“Miraculous.” It wasn’t so much a statement as it is a huff of breath in the air hanging between them. Rivka, hands folded behind her back, yellow eyes wide, stared at the mages below them from their perch on a nearby cliff side. The procession back to Haven would take days, maybe weeks, but they were safe and complying as full allies of the Inquisition. “I expected I’d be dead by now,” they confessed, giving Solas a wry, sideways look. “There’s only two ways this ends for me and every moment I’m given is a gift from the Creators.” She laughed a brittle laugh. “What kind of gift it is remains to be seen, if I keep swinging for the fences.” Were there even fences for them to swing for anymore? After the visions from Alexius’s amulet and the time travel, the world may as well throw at them whatever it saw fit. Every companion she looked in the face now had the image of their grim, faded future selves superimposed over their features, red lyrium lines radiating ever so faintly in the backdrop of her vision. Unwilling to dwell until the prospect of self-medicating could put some distance between them, Rivka folded their hands behind their back. “Will you help me with them? The more we can teach them before Haven to support the healers and workers, the easier it will be to integrate them into the Inquisition.” And to justify to Cassandra and Cullen, much as Rivka was loathe to admit it. Roderick was a lost cause.

Solas watched in silence as the mages passed below. Some stumbled with an uncertain step, unsure if this is a future they were headed for or more false hope. Others beamed with promise so potent that spirits pressed through the Veil to feel their warmth. A knot tied itself in his stomach to gaze upon it, recognising the familiar in the new and fearful of what it meant.

Echoes, he told himself, like the farthest ring in a ripple of water resembled the hand that moved the waves.

He did not hear the Hearld at first, adrift in a space of his own, before the rounded sound of a question on their lips caught his attention. Their words dawn suddenly upon him as the sun broke through thick Fereldan clouds. “I expect Alexius thought the same,” he said. “Fortunately you have proven more resilient than your enemies’ hopes, and your fears.”

He smiled briefly, distantly, hands folding as he considered their offer. “If they will listen, yes. We may all be apostates in the eyes of the Chantry, but some apostates are made differently than others. Although your good word may make them more amenable.”

#whocanretell #whocanretell:rivka #[ me showing up a month late to continue the trend we're setting in this thread. ]

[theharellan]

With no heart to recall

Pairing: Solas x Lavellan, OC & OC (antagonistic) Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition Rating: Mature Chapters: 11 Status: Complete Warning: Suicide Attempt, Descriptions of Violence

When a simple scouting mission ends in tragedy, Iander Lavellan is left at the mercies of the Templar who has hunted him throughout his life. With no Circles to claim custody, what is Ser Layne’s plan for his old adversary?

Evening settles like a blanket over Skyhold, dense and comfortable and heavy. Most activities have begun to seek conclusion as the mountain’s shadows grow long and thick in the waning daylight. In the rotunda where Solas so often works, the darkness is kept at bay by brightly glowing mage-lights, dancing and hovering where their glow is most needed. Where Ian reclines on the settee, one hovers near ungloved hands, illuminating the quiet beat of his needle as it dives in and out of one of Solas’s more tattered trouser legs. Across the room, another pair of lights hang shoulder level, leading the path of a brush that glides over plaster walls.

“I don’t think–” Ian’s words falter, and he tugs the thread backwards, trying to correct his stitch, teeth driving into his lower lip as he studies his work. “I think this is the last time I can salvage these. They’re–they’re getting worn thin.”

He looks over, watching the way Solas has to retract his tongue from between his teeth before answering.

“I will speak with the Lady Ambassador about it.” The brush slips into a saucer of paint, spins gently, then lifts again against the wall. “She had mentioned wanting to improve my state of dress.”

“I already–I talked with her, already.”

“You did?” The brush lifts, pulling away from the plaster as Solas turns his head, oblivious to the drip that lands against his thigh, adding another blotch of paint to the multicolored trousers.

“I mean–I knew when I looked at these this morning. So I spoke with the requisition officer, first. But he told me Lady Josephine had said–had said she wanted to–so I asked her, and she said to ask you to visit her tomorrow so her, um–-so her tailor can double check your measurements.”

“I see.” He pauses, a fond expression toying at the corner of his mouth, “You have a talent for thinking of me before I think of myself. My current wardrobe is hardly fit to be seen outside of Skyhold…” Ian watches a thought cross his face. It’s a loud one, changing the way his brow furrows and his mouth lifts, though Ian can’t guess at its meaning until Solas speaks again. “I had wondered…”

The sentence trails with a hesitance that Ian doesn’t recognize in Solas, lingering as he dips his brush again, this time in a cup of stained water, stirring until it darkens and the bristles clear. “There is a question I was hoping to ask you.” Knowing, perhaps, the impact those words might have, Solas is quick to offer reassurance before continuing, “A small thing, nothing worthy of your fears.”

Ignoring the tightening of his chest is a challenge, though Solas’s efforts ease the trial. Any question, unasked, is a terrifying and weighty concept, but Ian forces himself to swallow as he sets his mending down across his lap, leaning forward a little so that Solas has his full attention.

“I’ve often found myself wishing for more time together, away from our responsibilities. What time I have to spare is yours, but duty is never more than a knock away so long as we are within these walls.” He releases the paintbrush, letting it linger in the water as his hands come together, resting neatly in his lap.

As Ian watches, Solas’s cheeks grow faintly darker. The shade is endearing, and inspires a fluttering in Ian’s chest, separate from any trepidation he might feel. “I thought a trip might grant us a relief from our responsibilities, and provide a chance to explore the corners of the world overlooked in our journeys with the Inquisition— together.”

Read the rest on AO3!

#[ ive arrived... to rb this (and also a reply later) ] #[ and this is a wonderful read and i can't recommend it enough - ian is so good u guys #jolys words are so good let them hurt u. u wont regret ] #[ i should change my quest tag for this ig esp since tumblr prob forgot them all anyway ] #to love without agenda ( ian ) #i have found a home in him ( ian x solas ) #( gifts ) #with no heart to recall ( quests )

[theharellan]

I wanted to share a brief WIP for my entry in the @solamancyzine, hope you enjoy the sneak peek!

Varric moves his hand from his mouth, the corner of his eyes clearer than they’d been moments ago. “Put that way it sounds like it was always as much Pride as it was Wisdom.”

Solas spares the dwarf the grim expression that steals into his face, turning instead to the sky, where tendrils from the Breach snake across the heavens. “It is no coincidence that it was Pride we found waiting for us that day. Wisdom was the captive, and Pride the rebel, willing to tear itself apart fighting for the freedom it was owed.”

#( my writing ) #[ dropping this here real fast! hope ur all doing well!! ]

[theharellan]

tumblr ate the ask but here's a prompt fill for @hannelorre: 🌈character celebrating their identity. felt absolutely possessed by this, thank you

#raincloud eyes in a moonlit face ( solas fanart ) #be their guide ( inquisitor ) #[ looking at this makes me happy u___u the fashion. the kiss. the colours. effervescent. ]

[theharellan]

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?”

Keep reading

#( nsfw text ) #[ me reblogging my own reposted fic? more likely than u think ]

[theharellan]

Edited my pinned post to reflect my new activity status, which is that I’m continuing my low activity / semi-hiatus for the next few months, at least.

I’ve found lately I’ve been more drawn to writing fic than roleplay and that I’ve had a hard time being active on my dash while also being happy. There are a lot of reasons for this, but in short while I’ll be continuing writing threads, sending asks when I check the dash, etc I won’t be on the dash much.

You can find me on Discord (mutuals who want it just shoot me an ask!) or over on my personal / writing blogs — @queenaeducan​​ & @queenaeducan-writes or on my Twitter, which is also queenaeducan.

#( ooc ) #tbd #[ writing can still sometimes be a bit of a struggle bc i dont have a lot of energy after work #so when i do have energy im often spending it elsewhere!! #i'll prob be sticking to shortish threads or plotted threads for the near future for the morning i can write before work ]

[theharellan]

𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬  𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺.

↬   THE  LANGUAGE  OF  THORNS,  midnight  tales  and  dangerous  magic.   (  2017  )  by  leigh  bardugo.

sentences  taken  from  or  inspired  by  the  collection’s  dialogue  &  narration.

+   feel  free  to  change  pronouns  !

i.    AYAMA  AND  THE  THORN  WOOD.

‘  love  speaks  in  flowers.  truth  requires  thorns.  ’

‘  we  all  know  the  story  of  how  the  queen  becomes  a  queen.  ’

‘  we  should  leave  this  place.  ’

‘  no  doubt  it  will  come  and  devour  us  all.  ’

‘  the  beast  will  laugh  you  right  out  of  the  wild  lands.  ’

‘  you  know  how  the  stories  go.  interesting  things  happen  only  to  pretty  girls.  ’

‘  is  the  wood  much  worse  than  a  garden  overgrown  with  pricklers  ?  ’

‘  stupid  girl  !  do  you  wish  to  become  a  monster  ?  ’

‘  strike  me.  cleave  me  in  two.  ’

‘  you’re  as  thorny  as  the  wood.  ’  

‘  there  is  but  one  rule  in  my  wood.  speak  truth.  ’

‘  perhaps  you  might  show  mercy  freely.  ’

‘  just  eat  a  bit  of  the  sun  to  fill  the  sky,  and  you  will  feel  empty  no  longer.  ’

‘  what  nonsense  !  of  course  that’s  not  how  the  story  ends.  ’

‘  some  people  are  born  with  a  piece  of  night  inside,  and  that  hollow  place  can  never  be  filled.  ’

‘  what  do  i  care  for  winter  ?  no  season  touches  this  wood.  ’

‘  you  know  the  only  bargain  i  will  make.  ’

‘  sometimes  the  unseen  is  not  to  be  feared  and  those  that  are  meant  to  love  us  most  are  not  always  the  ones  that  do.  ’

‘  bad  fates  do  not  always  follow  those  that  deserve  them.  ’

‘  no  prince  is  worth  your  life.  ’

‘  are  you  so  eager  to  be  eaten  ?  ’

‘  they  have  told  me  to  return  with  your  heart.  ’

‘  you  think  to  love  a  monster  ?  ’

‘  a  man  like  you  is  owed  no  words.  ’

ii.    THE  TOO  CLEVER  FOX.

‘  you  are  doomed  to  a  miserable  life.  ’

‘  better  to  be  hungry  now  than  to  be  sorry  later.  ’

‘  what  will  everyone  say  when  they  see  such  a  face  ?  ’

‘  we  have  not  gone  so  soft  as  that.  ’

‘  you  think  that  we  will  let  you  live  on  foolish  promises  ?  ’

‘  you  have  bested  me.  that  much  is  clear.  ’

‘  will  you  not  free  me  ?  ’

‘  you  will  have  a  fine  time  of  it,  i  can  tell  you.  ’

‘  i  can  bear  ugliness.  i  find  the  one  thing  i  cannot  live  with  is  death.  ’

‘  if  you  will  only  cease  your  talking,  i  will  gladly  go.  ’

‘  where  he  went,  he  bled  the  woods  dry.  ’

‘  what’s  a  bit  more  blood  ?  ’

‘  you  should  leave  this  place.  you  are  not  safe  here.  ’

‘  with  such  big  eyes,  i  think  you  see  too  much.  ’

‘  will  you  not  tell  me  what  troubles  you  ?  ’

‘  why  do  you  stay  with  him  ?  you’re  pretty  enough  to  catch  a  husband.  ’

‘  just  because  you  escape  one  trap,  doesn’t  mean  you  will  escape  the  next.  ’

‘  first  i  must  find  my  courage.  ’

‘  few  can  resist  the  sight  of  a  pretty  girl  crying.  ’

‘  the  trap  is  loneliness,  and  no  one  escapes  it.  not  even  me.  ’

‘  in  the  wood,  even  songbirds  must  be  survivors.  ’

iii.    THE  WITCH  OF  DUVA.

‘  there  was  a  time  when  the  wood  ate  girls.  ’

‘  be  back  before  dark.  the  trees  are  hungry  tonight.  ’

‘  who  can  say  what  shapes  an  appetite  ?  ’

‘  this  is  my  home,  you  can’t  just  send  me  away.  ’ 

‘  don’t  be  foolish.  there’s  plenty  of  light.  ’

‘  well  then,  come  help  me  stir  the  pot.  ’

‘  i  will  warn  you  just  this  once.  go.  ’ 

‘  you  cannot  come  and  go  from  this  place  like  you’re  fetching  water  from  a  well.  ’  

‘  hope  made  me  stubborn.  ’

‘  stay  there  and  keep  quiet.  i  don’t  need  rumors  that  i’ve  been  taking  girls.  ’

‘  i  will  not  have  you  bring  a  monster  to  my  door.  ’

‘  you  know  that  you  are  welcome  to  remain  here  with  me.  ’

‘  i  will  follow  her.  i  will  peck  out  her  eyes.  ’

‘  believe  me.  say  you  believe  me.  ’

‘  dark  things  have  a  way  of  slipping  through  narrow  spaces.  ’

iv.    LITTLE  KNIFE.

‘  it  is  dangerous  to  travel  the  northern  road  with  a  troubled  heart.  ’

‘  if  you  are  lost  in  your  own  thoughts,  you  may  find  yourself  stepping  off  the  path  and  into  the  dark  woods.  ’

‘  she  was  beautiful  from  the  moment  of  her  birth.  ’

‘  why  must  i  be  the  one  to  hide  ?  ’

‘  do  you  think  i  am  so  foolish  or  so  cruel  ?  ’

‘  water  only  wants  direction.  it  wants  to  be  told  what  to  do.  ’

‘  always  you  have  done  my  bidding,  but  what  good  are  you  to  me  now  ?  ’

‘  soon  i  will  be  very  rich,  but  will  i  have  a  good  man  ?  ’

‘  that  is  a  question  for  the  river.  ’

‘  your  tongue  is  not  fit  for  my  true  name.  ’

‘  will  you  come  with  me,  and  be  bride  to  nothing  but  the  shore  ?  ’

‘  she  was  terrifying  in  her  beauty,  bright  like  a  devouring  star.  ’

‘  remember  that  to  use  a  thing  is  not  to  own  it.  ’

‘  should  you  ever  take  a  bride,  listen  closely  to  her  questions.  ’

v.    THE  SOLDIER  PRINCE.

‘  this  is  the  problem  with  even  lesser  demons.  they  come  to  your  door  in  velvet  coats  and  polished  shoes.  ’

‘  you  will  find  great  love  and  more  gold  than  you  could  wish  for.  ’

‘  he’s  a  charming  fellow,  but  most  unusual,  and  peculiarities  seem  to  follow  him.  ’  

’  it  seemed  harmless  at  the  time.  ’

‘  he  needed  a  girl,  still  malleable,  one  that  he  could  make  admire  him.  ’

‘  this  is  pleasant.  this  is  enough.  ’

‘  are  you  my  soldier  ?  are  you  my  prince  ?  ’

‘  i  have  not  come  to  fight,  only  to  talk.  ’

‘  wanting  is  why  people  get  up  in  the  morning.  it  gives  them  something  to  dream  of  at  night.  ’

‘  i  am  perfectly  real.  ’

‘  she  loves  you,  though,  and  that  will  make  it  harder.  ’

‘  best  not  to  ask.  i  think  the  answer  would  please  no  one.  ’

‘  we  can  stay  forever  in  the  land  of  dreams.  ’

‘  kiss  me.  take  me  from  this  place.  ’

‘  i  sent  you  to  die  a  hundred  times.  ’

‘  i  eat  the  wonder  in  their  eyes.  ’

‘  you  were  an  idea  in  my  head.  you  were  nothing,  and  to  nothing  you  will  return  when  i  think  of  you  no  more.  ’

‘  you  wanted  only  that  i  might  live.  you  would  sacrifice  your  own  life  to  make  it  so.  ’

‘  are  you  my  darling  ?  are  you  mine  ?  ’

vi.    WHEN  WATER  SANG  FIRE.

‘  you  wish  to  strike  a  bargain.  ’

‘  make  me  someone  new.  ’

‘  this  is  the  problem  with  making  a  thing  forbidden.  it  does  nothing  but  build  an  ache  in  the  heart.  ’

‘  easy  magic  is  pretty.  great  magic  requires  that  you  trouble  the  waters.  ’

‘  no  one  expects  me  to  accomplish  anything.  ’

‘  i  can  smell  your  ambition  like  blood  in  the  water.’  

‘  i  know  that  you  should  keep  it  like  a  secret,  not  shout  it  like  a  curse.  ’

‘  yes.  i  can  imagine  it  all.  ’

‘  you  are  worth  more  than  that.  you  should  not  have  to  earn  him.  ’

‘  hope  rises  like  water  trapped  beneath  a  dam,  higher  and  higher,  in  increments  that  mean  nothing  until  you  face  the  flood.  ’

‘  there  is  no  pain  like  the  pain  of  transformation.  ’

‘  take  your  pleasures  as  you  will.  ’

‘  come,  and  i’ll  tell  you  all  you  wish  to  know.  ’

‘  he  made  me  dream  of  things  i  cannot  have.  ’

‘  i  do  not  care  for  dancing.  ’

‘  look  into  the  mirror,  and  try  to  deny  it.  ’

‘  you  have  never  been  like  the  others,  and  you  never  will  be.  ’

‘  we  were  not  made  to  please  princes.  ’

‘  i  am  not  quite  mortal  either,  and  i  have  many  lives  to  live.  ’

‘  i  wouldn’t  care  if  you  were  part  human  or  part  frog.  ’

‘  my  voice  is  not  enough.  ’

‘  you  know  i  was  never  strong.  ’

#( meme ) #me at 6am: time for meme???

[theharellan]

I think Bioware should give Solas smudged black eyeliner in da4

#raincloud eyes in a moonlit face ( solas fanart )

[theharellan]

obsessed with the opposite of the childhood friends trope. what if we were just some guys meeting for the first time with like. no significance

#i have found a home in him ( ian x solas )

[theharellan]

Expectations

My first play-through of DA:I I was playing a dwarf Inquisitor (who I write on @ourdawncomes​) and as it happened Solas was her first friend, and also happened to be one of her best. However, the way the friendship scene plays out with Solas as a dwarf is never quite what I had in mind for how it would play out with Thora, so this is my rewrite of it.

I am using canon dialogue in places where I feel it fits, especially for Solas. And yes, I’m posting it on this blog because I have more followers, even if it’s from Thora’s POV. Don’t @ me.

Thora squints against the sun as she steps onto a balcony bathed in midday light. The wind from the Frostbacks is cold on her cheeks, but it’s a welcome relief to stand under an open sky after the high, windowless walls surrounding Solas’s study. He paces along the edge, his fingers running along the ridges of the stone balcony, feeling the grooves beneath their tips. The walk up here had been quiet, at least by their standards, with only polite inquiries as to her health. Now, whatever he had brought her here for weighs visibly upon his expression, brow wrinkled with thought.

“You had something on your mind, Solas?”

He sighs, hand lifting to press against his head, ironing out the lines in his forehead. There’s something familiar about the way Solas conducts himself when his emotions finally get the better of him: the pacing, the gesture of his hands, the way his eyes always look away before they find hers. It’s almost amusing to see him that way, considering who she knew him as when they first met. Amusing, until she remembers Wisdom. “What were you like,” Solas asks, hand falling to his side, “before the Anchor?” Thora’s eyes are drawn to her hand, fingers unfurling to stare at the green crack that glows along her lifeline. Whatever answer he seeks, she does not give it quick enough. “Has it affected you? Changed you in any way? Your mind, your morals, your… spirit?”

“What?” she laughs, looking up, expecting to see mirth in his face, but he meets her gaze with stony eyes which kill the sound in her throat. So, he’s not kidding. “I’m not sure how I’m supposed to know that.” She feels the same, mostly. Dreams are new, but Solas knows that already. “I don’t think so. I’ve always been this way, more or less. People are just… more likely to look at me than over me, now.” All the things she says now are what she said before, the only difference being she has a title to make them count, but that answer doesn’t seem to satisfy him. Solas’s ears angle back against his head, lips curving in a reluctant smile that she thinks is meant to assuage her doubts about the direction this conversation is heading.

“I see,” he says, “an excellent point.” It’s not disappointment she sees when she looks at him twice. It is familiar, though. She’s seen it in the eyes of everyone she’s ever told she’s no Herald, like she’s confirming something terrible they already knew was true.

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#fantasy racism cw #tbd

[theharellan]

For the Elves the world moves, and it moves both very swift and very slow. Swift, because they themselves change little, and all else fleets by: it is a grief to them. Slow, because they do not count the running years, not for themselves. The passing seasons are but ripples ever repeated in the long long stream.

Legolas, The Great River (via tolkienillustrations)

#in quoting others‚ we cite ourselves ( quotes ) #this place of love ( elvhenan )

[theharellan]

Patron reward for TasM - a wonderful OC, non-Inquisitor Ian Lavellan at the Crossroads. So happy with how this came out!

#to love without agenda ( ian ) #( gifts ) #[ i love him ur honour ]