#rinnala
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welcome to quinta de talpa, don't mind the ladies of the house.. they're not inhospitable they're just distracted
#rinnyarts#dragon age#rinnala#rinnala arainai#oc: leonor#quinta de talpa#i've been wanting to draw them... the murder wives...
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Happy Friday! For DADWC: “Rest now. I’ll be here when you wake.”
Absolutely! Here's some Surana/Zevran for @dadrunkwriting that… kind of got away from me.
Zevran had not slept in a week.
No, that was an exaggeration. He hadn't slept well, but he dozed off enough that he couldn’t claim to have not fallen asleep. He slept. Ate. Walked outside. Talked to Isabela, the one person who knew who he was behind his carefully constructed mask and what he really did for a living.
Well, she was the one person who knew and still talked to him.
Confessions made the soul feel lighter, right? That’s what the brothers and sisters said whenever he stepped foot in a Chantry. So why did his heart feel like it had been strapped to a car and driven off a bridge into the sea?
“Your fault,” Zevran grumbled at his reflection in the window. It was his fault when it came down to it. It was a job, like the hundreds he did before, and it was an easy one at that. All he had to do was steal research from an alchemist. It was so simple he could have done it in his sleep. Be charming, slip into the target’s life like a dagger between the ribs, and slip back out when the data was stolen and the job complete. It was so simple a child could do it, and he would know. He did harder work before he lost his baby teeth!
But it went wrong from day one, and Zevran wished he could lie to himself and lay the blame at the feet of his target. His target was baffling. Odd, even by Zevran’s standards. He was a conundrum, prickly and stand-offish yet naive and trusting in the same instant. Of course Zevran was intrigued! Of course he had to dive deep and investigate. It was in his nature to dissect people. No matter how he tried, however, Zevran could not maintain the falsehood. Not even to himself.
He hadn’t been the same since the last job. Taliesin knew it, commented on it, covered for him, but Zevran knew that even Taliesin couldn’t protect him from the Crows forever. But that was the result of burning Rinna. Clever, beautiful, snarky Rinnala, who always had a plan, wasn’t surprised by the betrayal. She merely shrugged her shoulders and told them to get on with it- “Bastard scions always have rotten luck,” she said, and Zevran should have known- should have known!- that there was more to this tale than anyone was saying. Rinna was ambitious and daring, it was true, but she was no traitor. And to then be told that she had been telling the truth, that she (that he) was expendable to the Crows, that all it took to knock off one of their best agents was money and a vague promise of future jobs and glory-
Was it any wonder that Zevran wasn’t the same after that?
The Amaranthine job was, on the surface, so simple. It would be an elegant job with little to no bloodshed (one must always account for papercuts). Ground support would be minimal (like Zevran would ask Taliesin to do anything for him after the last job). Zevran could operate however he liked, a chance to “get back in the saddle” after his “ordeal.”
How gracious. Zevran hoped he would fail so badly that the Crows would pull him back. Discipline him. Burn him too. Better than playing puppet- and maybe Rinnala knew that. She knew everything, after all. Zevran groaned, stumbled out of bed to the restroom, and dunked his head under the sink faucet before turning it on. Ice water dumped over the back of his head like a waterfall, and Zevran stared at the wet tendrils of his hair as they clung to the white porcelain surface of the sink bowl like seaweed.
He intended to bungle things from the start. He would be lying to himself if he claimed otherwise. The only reason he lingered, delayed, made pretenses at moving forward on the job was his own damnable curiosity. The only reason he ever made progress and kept the Crows out of Amaranthine was to keep his place at the target’s side, all to satisfy his own insatiable need for knowledge. And the target obliged, letting Zevran into his circle of companions, letting Zevran indulge his whims, inviting Zevran ever closer until Zevran counted their time together as some of the few genuinely pleasurable moments in his life. And the target kept Zevran close as well, as if he didn’t recognize the danger he held close to his chest at night, as if he didn’t realize he invited a weapon into his bed. But how could he have known? Not even the wildest of imaginations could have conceived of this absurdist romantic drama.
How could Bran Surana have possibly known that Zevran Arainai came to Amaranthine to ruin his life?
“Your fault,” Zevran accused his reflection in the mirror. “Your damned fault.”
The reflection agreed. They ought to have failed a lot sooner, if not for their own sakes then at least for Bran, who hadn’t deserved being pulled into this mess. He was rude and blunt and brilliant, and he would be a lot better off if he had never run into Zevran. Not that he could change that now, of course. Time travel was impossible and mind tampering unethical, and Zevran did enough damage already. Best to keep his distance, arrange his affairs, and keep the Crows at bay. Maybe, when he managed to drag himself out of this depression hole, Zevran would ensure Bran’s safety. It was the least he could do.
Water dripped into his eyes, and Zevran buried his face into a towel. His wet hair clung to his bare neck and shoulders as he dried off. He still felt awful. The hangover was the least of his worries. His very soul ached. He was an idiot to get attached to a target, he was an idiot to think he could mix business with pleasure, he was an idiot to think he could keep Bran Surana when Zevran knew who he was.
It was nice when it lasted, though, and his selfish heart couldn’t regret it. Zevran shuffled out of the bathroom, through the bedroom, and into the living room, turning on the light as he entered.
Bran Surana sat at the kitchen counter with a bowl in one hand and a fork in the other, and Zevran nearly reached for the knife hidden behind a bookshelf before his mind caught up with him. Bran was here. In his condo. Wearing mismatched socks and his standard black hooded sweatshirt. He had all of his earrings in his ears, silver and spiked and dangerous looking, and he looked as tired as Zevran felt even as he twisted the fork into the bowl and took a bite of pasta.
“- is good,” he mumbled through a bite. “Didn’t know you cooked.” Bran took another bite. A chunk of his dark hair slipped out from behind one pointed ear to cover part of his face, and Zevran itched to cross the floor and tuck it back into place. He didn’t.
“When I’m stressed, yes,” Zevran croaked. The lack of sleep was getting to him. He was seeing things. Hallucinations were a common side effect of insomnia, right?
“You forgot to lock your door, and the receptionist let me in,” Bran replied, answering questions Zevran hadn’t even thought to ask. “Got hungry. Looted the fridge. You owed me a meal.”
Bran… wasn’t wrong. They had lunch plans before Zevran’s change of heart, before Zevran told him everything. He had thought those plans were permanently cancelled, but here Bran was, sitting on a barstool eating leftovers from Zevran’s fridge. It was too absurd to be real, but it was. The air was heavy with the scent of tomato.
“I suppose I did,” Zevran replied. “Though why you chose to come here is… puzzling.” That was an understatement, of course, and Zevran wasn’t quite certain he wasn’t dreaming. But Bran set the empty bowl down on the counter and slipped off the stool. He approached slowly, as if Zevran was a dangerous creature who must be handled carefully.
“You’re tired,” Bran remarked, his dark eyes trained on Zevran’s face.
“Yes,” Zevran admitted. He was so tired. So very tired. Everything ached, and it would be so easy, so comforting, to lay down and rest.
“So am I,” Bran replied, and now that he was closer Zevran noted the pallor to his skin and the dark circles under his eyes, purple as an eggplant.
“Ah.”
“We need to talk,” Bran declared. “But we’re both too tired for that. So…”
“So?” Zevran felt like his mind had been dropped into a jar of honey. The world moved too slowly, and he couldn’t understand why Bran was here in front of him, his piercings serving as armor and his sweatshirt acting as a safety blanket, and Zevran’s heart swelled with affection. Bran was a braver man than him, to return and demand answers, demand the truth.
“I have a proposal,” Bran said, close enough that if Zevran reached out he could brush his fingers down the curve of Bran’s cheek. He didn’t, but he could have if he was braver.
“Oh?”
“We sleep. Here. Talk when we feel better,” Bran explained, and he took Zevran’s hand in his. “We left a lot unfinished.” He pulled Zevran along without resistance until Bran sat on the couch and dragged Zevran down until he had his head pillowed on Bran’s lap. He was certainly dreaming, Zevran decided when Bran combed his fingers through his wet hair. But was that so bad? At least this was a pleasant diversion from reality. Zevran shut his eyes.
“Mmmm,” Zevran murmured. “This… is a nice dream.”
"Rest now. I'll be here when you wake," Bran mumbled, so soft it could have been a figment of Zevran's imagination and pining heart, but the fingers running through his hair and gently scratching at his scalp felt real enough. Zevran shut his eyes and buried his face into Bran's skinny thigh.
Maybe now he could rest. Finally, finally rest. The world could wait for a few hours, just for them.
#my writing#da drunk writing circle#part of me wants to say that the Rinnala of this AU faked her death and is happily living a new life#but I’m not sure if that works or not
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The Dark Urge - Rinnala
#bg3edits#bg3edit#bg3gifs#bg3gif#bg3#baldur's gate#baldur's gate 3#durge#the dark urge#dark urge#larian studios#mygifs#myedits
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@mageunderground
Of course Zevran notices the change in the island's decor -- it is difficult not to, wintery-themed festivities now being paired with pink and red lights, hearts, flowers, chocolates. Heart's Wake, someone tells him, although he has no idea what that means until a giggling young maiden shoves a small box into his hands, gushing about this holiday dedicated to strengthening bonds. A day for lovers. Zevran finds the idea charming. The little bottle of perfume he produces from the girl's giftbox is charming, too, when he is finally satisfied there's nothing wrong with it. It's a floral scent. Sweet, but not overpoweringly so.
He does not feel unusual in the slightest when he smells it. Not at first.
It is only when he is sitting on the couch of Anders' apartment with the ridiculously named Ser Pounce A Lot 2 curled and purring in his lap -- his Satinalia gift to the mage, a sweet orange cat who'd taken a liking to him off the street -- that he begins to feel...different. Not a bad different, necessarily. Just. Different.
In the time since Anders had offered the proverbial olive branch in the form of a home-cooked meal the two had begun working to repair the rift between them. They both seem content to leave their affair in Kirkwall behind them; or rather, Anders seems content. Zevran is not so sure. He has tried, of course. Tried to be willfully ignorant, to ignore the obvious, to make excuses, but he can no longer deny what he knows to be true -- that somewhere along the way he had begun to develop something for the mage. He had felt it with Taliesen and then Rinnala, long ago. Something he cannot put a name to, something that makes his stomach lurch and his heart feel full. He had been in no great rush to share this epiphany. Ever.
Now he feels like he must say something or he might explode.
"There is something I must tell you." Zevran's hand nervously busies itself with scratching behind Ser Pounce's ears. Why does his throat feel dry? "Not something terrible, I promise." Well, it has the potential to be terrible. It has the potential to undo all of their progress.
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Still plotting timelines and I’m kind of impressed that BioWare managed to retcon Dorian’s into making even less sense than it initially did
Because originally...Felix was meant to be infected in 9:38 Dragon, the schism between Dorian and Alexius happened in 9:39, and then he just kinda bummed around til 9:41 when the Conclave blew
But apparently they wrote the second World of Thedas (their super special exclusive sequel Only Sold in Limited Quantities Through Our Site!) without like...actually looking at anything they’d already written (don’t even get me STARTED on “Rinna wasn’t just a random Crow recruit she was actually a royal bastard making a bid for the throne and oh actually just “elf blooded” bc elves can’t rule amiright even though Zev calls her an “elven lass” and also her name wasn’t even Rinna it was Rinnala and it wasn’t a tragic miscommunication it was a deliberate trick to make them kill her to elevate House Arainai OR WHATEVER” thing because jesus flippin’ christ what?)
bc WoT2 pegs Felix’s infection to 9:35 Dragon and Dorian leaving to 9:37...and seem to sandwich Halward’s fuckery between 9:37 and 9:41, which makes absolutely no sense when we could just stick it before he went to study with Alexius
Legitimately whenever I check the wiki and something makes absolutely no sense at all it’s inevitably a footnote to WoT2 and I’m just like Ok so that’s shoddy cash-grab tie in nonsense and I’m ignoring it
The games are badly written enough without halfassed meta thrown in - if I’m going to use halfassed meta it’ll be my own, tyvm
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I'm doing some research and:
Rinna is an illegitimate child of Prince Estefan
Bioware lore states that children born from the union of humans and elves have exclusively human features. They are called half-elves or elf-blooded, but not elves or humans
Rinna is an elf
Therefore, according to Bioware lore, Prince Estefan had to be an elf as well
Prince Estefan couldn't have come out of nowhere, therefore there is a case to be made in favor of tge existence of an uninterrupted elven line of royalty in Antiva (however long is another thing, but elves as royalty!)
Am I onto something, am I missing something, is this widely known?
#rinna#rinnala#dragon age#dragon age origins#rinna arainai#rinnala arainai#dao#antiva#antivan royalty
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My friend keeps teasing me because all I ever talk about is Dragon age and elves, so I took it a step further and drew my fav side character elves across the games.
I put names in captions just in case someone’s hard to recognize.
(Also!! I graduated today!!)
#dragon age#velanna#tamlen#dalish#rinnala#soris#shianni#briala#felassan#orsino#ameridan#mihris#fiona#i just barely managed to finish this before i go on holidays lmao thank dog#my art#2019 art
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i have been having lots of feelings lately
spanish version because.... well. Because Antiva.
#zevran#zevran aranai#dragon age#dragon age comic#or something#my art#paparaxote#rinnala#rinna#he lied#he actually cared#the man holding her back is taliesen#DA#dragon age origins#my stuff#ailisart
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I'm your gold
But when it gets darker
I won't glow no more
I cease to sparkle
So baby, be my jewels
Your iridescent colors ignite the room and I burn
I burn, till you could see my ghost
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WHUBGMBrARI
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New Backstory Edit for Zevran: no reblogging please :D
Before his tryst with Isabella and his relationship with Rinna and Taliesen became intimate, Zevran had a family. He had gotten a prostitute pregnant and once he had found out he had jumped into the role of father with gusto. He had been ecstatic. He was making more than enough to support a family at the time. Naturally the Crows didn't approve, and saw his children and the woman disappear when the twins were a scant nine months old in the hopes of knocking Zevran down a peg or two.
He and Isabella had been friends for a few months at this time and became intimate after the death of his children and previous lover. Zevran even gifted her one of his knives, and taught her the basics of how to use it when he found out about the abuse her husband Luis put her through. They had been a rebound for each other that turned to something more over the next year. When Isabella put the contract out on her husband, Zevran took the Contract and didn't see Isabella again until DA:2 He hadn’t been willing to risk losing her for the sake of love so soon after his last lovers disappearance. Zevran hadn’t known how to put it into words, so he had simply left after the contract was filled.
The one person he genuinely grows kind to is Rinnala because she is the most understanding towards him after the loss of his two children, and how it affected his relationship with Isabella, especially when it came to why he hadn’t been able to tell Isabella what he had felt. He genuinely had fallen for the Rivaini woman, but knew if it was something he pursued seriously, The Crows would have taken her life like they had with his last lover.
What started as a relationship between him and Taliesen and Rinna as friends with benefits slowly became more. At least with Rinnala. While Rinna had shown him compassion and understanding, Taliesen had called him a fool for taking a lover outside of the Crows when he didn't have the influence to protect them.
Despite this, Taliesen fell in love with Zevran as Zev fell in love with Rinalla and it drove the Tevene to jealousy. Hence his involvement with Rinalla’s death, and keeping the truth from Zevran even though he knew Rinnala was innocent.
#headcanon#no reblog!#tw: abuse mention#tw: child death#Zevran Arainai#Isabella#Taliesen#Rinnala#Isabella and Zev get on really well#so i wanted a reason why things didn't work out and this was what i came up with#lowkey#Zev probably knew it was most likely going to be a 'no' after the shit fest with Luis#and wasn't ready to face it#even if he was accepting of it#and on the terrifying chance she said 'sure lets date'#he didn't want to see a fire hearted woman snuffed out for what in his mind#was a selfish want for love
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the prompt that read "never fall in love with a woman who sells herself. it always ends bad" reminded me a little of a situation Zevran might've almost found himself in. do you think you can write it for Zevran and Rinnala?
And when was the last time hewas happy? Hard, to think of it. Perhaps that day, curled up on the couch,leaning against Taliesen. Rinna bringing drinks, laughing as she wedges herselfbetween them. Talking about nothing, everything that isn’t about the Crows.They could almost be mistaken for people. Not tools, not weapons, not threewith scars on their backs. She looks at him, shining like a diamond bright, andsmiles.
Zevran is told she is a traitor.Selling all she is for coin, and them, not even worth part of the take.
Taliesen puts one hand under herchin, tops her face upwards. Turning the blade in his other hand, metalglinting in the flickering candlelight. Edge against skin, against her neck.Rinna does not close her eyes, does not look at Taliesen. The time for pleashave passed. She looks at Zevran, and does not shift her gaze. Not even as theblade moves, draws that bloody line. The curtain falls, and she falls with it.
Zevran is told she is innocent.Never once did she sell them, betray him.
He sees her every night. Shehaunts him in every corner, watching his dreams. The blood still runs, a riverat her feet. Not once does she speak. She doesn’t have to. She carries hisguilt, his shame, in her arms. She judges him in silence, finds him unworthy.He walks towards her but she is always out of reach, and no apology can findwhere her body lies.
Zevran is told it is a suicidemission. He accepts without hesitation.
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Rinnala knew that history was a tool ruthlessly wielded by those who wrote it, those who carved it in blood, those who trimmed away the unwieldy parts and bent a nation’s narrative to their will: emperors and historians, these were Rinna’s heritage. You couldn’t tell by looking at her (damn her ears) but her hands were meant to write new chapters in history. This she knew for a fact.
Years and years ago a foolish queen consorted in secret with a half-elven quartermaster, and her child was born fully human, with the voracious appetite of his great lineage. As he grew he began to devour all in his path—people, names, hearts, land. This caused a great deal of trouble for a lot of people still dealing with it today.
But of course, that never truly happened.
At present, Rinnala walked in line beside the grandmaster of House Arainai, listening intently to her tour of the headquarters in Antiva City. It was nonsense, half of it ahistorical or misleading, so she was barely listening as she droned on and on. She nodded when it was expected of her. But silence was a tool, too. In fact, she was thinking. She was already devising a way out.
Because Rinnala knew that history was written not just in the past, but in all directions. That the next hundred years could be decided today.
And she at the center of it would craft a history of her own. And in this version of history she would be free.
#rinnywrites#just some freewriting that happened while thinking about qdt#dragon age#rinnala#quinta de talpa
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i’m thinking about what morgiah’s children would look like? or just dunmer/altmer children in general. like they would have grey skin red eyes because of the curse.. but they’d probably be a bit taller than the average dunmer, more “high elven” features like angular faces and larger but less flared ears. maybe they’d even have brighter and less red eyes than other dunmer, like a color closer to pink
#tenisi wasn’t originally morgiah’s daughter so i’ll have to redesign her to reflect this#also should make a design for rinnala and goranthir#morgiah
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hey!! so i've been playing baldur's gate 3 for a couple weeks now but i'm still on act 1 because it's huge and i've had other things i needed to do lol. but i just remembered that a while back, i mentioned to you that i hadn't played the game yet but i really wanted to someday. so i just wanted to tell you now that i am loving what i've played of it so far and that i'd love to hear about your tav, if you have any sort of backstory or anything for them that you'd be interested in sharing!
Wow that's amazing to hear! I'm glad you're enjoying it! There's a lot to explore in Act 1 so don't rush your playthrough! 😁
My Tavs don't have any backstories but I'd like to share to you my playlists for them! These songs reminds me of them ❤
Laraena playlist:
Rinnala playlist:
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Do you have any Crowt3 fic recs?
Sadly there are very few CrowT3 fics around and I was unable to find a good one I remembered. I can recommend Don't People Usually Do This with Ginger? (nsfw), in which they have a great group dynamic and are okay for a bit and try to avoid talking about all the traumas of Crow stuff, and this short good Everything is Okay modern AU in which there are no Crows and they just get to be happy and alive.
I may have to go on a CrowT3 binge read sometime though, it has been too long and I love them, I can try and do more recs after that.
#also i should like write crowT3 myself sometime#anonymous#crowt3#dragon age#asks post#asks about dragon age#zevran arainai#taliesen arainai#rinnala arainai#Anonymous
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I was just thinking, the way Zevran describes people is very telling. The mage he was sent to assassinate? Delightful young woman with long divine legs. The guy who vomited on his leather shoes? Brightest pair of blue eyes. If that same story involves a girl, not a guy? A rather buxom lass with the roundest posterior you've ever seen. It's all physical attributes
Rinna, however?
Tough, smooth, wicked, eyes that gleam like justice
Like damn. Zev might've been playing into the stereotype of being superficial in the other instances and benn honest when talking about Rinna. But it sounds to me like a) Rinna was one hell of a special person to demonstrate such righteousness and sense of justice as Zevran describes while under the thumb of the Crows and b) that boy loved her so much ;_;
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