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galadrieljones · 4 months

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Author Interview

Thanks for the tag, @littlelindentree ^_^ Happy New Year!

1. how many works do you have on AO3?

2. what's your total AO3 word count?

981,132

3. what fandoms do you write for?

I have written for Dragon Age: Inquisition, Red Dead Redemption 2, Horizon: Zero Dawn, The Last of Us, and The Walking Dead

4. what are your top five fics by kudos?

The Lily Farm (Arthur Morgan x Mary Beth Gaskill, RDR2)

That he may hold me by the hand (Arthur Morgan x Albert Mason, RDR2)

The Dead Season (Solavellan, DAI)

Magnolia (Bethyl, TWD)

Yours, Sadie Adler. (Sadithur, RDR2)

5. do you respond to comments?

Yes, as often as I can. Sometimes, I forget on older fics. I'm sorry about that. If someone is rude to me in the comments though, I will respond rudely!

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Probably Teen Wolf. It's a story collection so the ending isn't really "true," but it's the end of Solas and Ghilan'nain's love story, in my mind. It's sad and bittersweet, as in the story, they are talking about building a house on the back acreage of Solas's mother's property, but I envision the very next day as being the day that Andruil invades the Weathers, kidnapping both Ghilan'nain and Solas's mother Leanathy, and beginning the Great War. In the ensuing days, Andruil's men leave Solas for dead, and when he wakes up, he goes to Mythal and begs her to free his mother in exchange for his loyalty. She accepts, rescuing and protecting Leanathy in her Blue Palace, and Solas becomes her Bodyguard. Eventually, he is elevated to her General, then he becomes her lover. During the war, after Ghilan'nain's betrayal, the Evanuris murder Mythal, and Solas, out of vengeance and grief, builds the veil and imprisons them all, including Mythal's soul, which would, over time, resurrect into her body, using special magic taught to her by Solas's mother many thousands of years before.

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Well, most of my long fics are unfinished. I'm sorry about that. I think that The Dead Season has a happy ending. So does Yours, Sadie Adler., thought it is bittersweet.

8. do you get hate on fics?

Not tons at all. I have gotten a few rude commenters over the years, mainly people being weirdly critical of my writing style in ways that are, frankly, moronic, and also some people who just want me to write more smut. But I don't write much smut anymore, and I don't think fics need smut to be worthy or interesting. If you only want a smut fic, you probably won't like my writing. Remember that tags exist so that you can see what you're getting into before you crack the first chapter!!!!

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

Lol. Speaking of. I used to write much more. It was never the overly explicit kind and I didn't have any specific kinks I liked to explore, but I wrote a lot of it for DAI and RDR2. I still write sex scenes for sure, it's just that they tend to be character driven.

10. do you write crossovers? what's the craziest one you've written?

I have never written a real crossover; however, I do have some crossover characters in The Lily Farm. In the later chapters, I have two main characters who are taken from other texts: Woodrow Call from Lonesome Dove and LaBoeuf from True Grit. Both are Texas Rangers, and in my fic, they owe Dutch a few rather large favors. They help Arthur and Mary Beth on the river boat job, which goes terribly wrong. They also help break John out of federal prison. They are two of my favorite characters in the fic.

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of. I've had plenty of art stolen over the years and I don't even keep track anymore. Mainly it just gets reposted without credit on like, Pinterest. Oh well!

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I know of! But I am amenable.

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

I don't think so!

14. what's your all-time favourite ship?

I have several though Bethyl and Solavellan are probably tied for first.

15. what's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

The Lily Farm. In truth there's not a ton left to write. But it's been 84 years like I don't even remember the geography of the game. I would have to replay RDR2, at least through chapter 4. I also wish I could finish Zero, my Niloy fic for HZD. I still think about them, and I still occasionally get really really nice comments on that fic. I honestly wish I could finish all my old fics. Like That he may hold, which also has maybe one closing chapter left to write. I wish I could finish As You Were, too, my TLOU fic, just so that I can save Joel's life, and as a big fuck you to Neil Druckmann.

16. what are your writing strengths?

I'm not sure. Pacing has probably always been my greatest strength.

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

Overwriting, getting bored. My issue is often that I start a fic with modest goals but then those goals get bigger and bigger as I go, and I can't help myself. Then, I eventually get bored and I don't finish. I view fanfic as a way for authors to express themselves and their hyperfixations in the moment. I think that the quality of being "unfinished" is, in an of itself, conventional to fanfiction; however, I still view my general lack of focus as a weakness.

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Don't translate it. Just put it there. If your reader cares enough and doesn't know the translation, they'll look it up. If they don't care enough to do this, then they're not your target audience. The internet makes this sort of thing very easy.

19. first fandom you wrote for?

Technically it's the boyband fandom (*NSync and Backstreet Boys, mainly) in like 1998, but in actuality, it's Dragon Age: Inquisition in 2016.

20. favourite fic you've written?

Probably Yours, Sadie Adler. It feels the most complete, and I still don't know how I managed to write that fic so quickly, when I was like three weeks postpartum with my second baby, and with very little revision. It just flowed out of me, like it was already written in my mind, and all I had to do was type it out. I have received some really lovely comments on it over the years. It seems to affect people deeply, which makes me very happy, because it came from a very raw place in my heart.

I will tag @thevikingwoman @bearlytolerant @roguelioness @gneebee @shallow-gravy @a-shakespearean-in-paris @pipergirl17 @sasusc and @im-immortal <3

#about me #writing #rdr2 #dai #tlou #hzd #twd

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llobregat28 · 3 years

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What is that?! Is't twentieh time that I replayed a this video game, and is't first time that I see that...

Fen'harel and Ghilan'nain? Or... Other?

I want to explication, Solas!

#da inquisition #dragon age inquisition #da solas #solas dragon age #solas #solavellan #solas x lavellan #bioware #dragon age elf #dragon age inquistor #elvhen #pantheonelvhen #ghilan'nain #fen'harel

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planesofduality · 4 years

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On Ghilan’nain

There are a few pieces of lore in the Dragon Age universe that link FH and Ghilan’nain in some capacity.

Her sea monsters

There is the tale, found as a codex in the Temple of Mythal in DAI of Ghilan’nain creating terrible creatures that were, presumably, destructive. Andruil tried to kill as many as she could, but in the end, the Evanuris had to appeal to her to kill them. And, in exchange for apotheosis, she did. Except for the creatures of the deep sea "for they were too well-wrought, and Pride stopped her hand.” This is clearly Solas.

I think this can tell us a couple of things:

1. Ghilan’nain is exceptionally clever and powerful. She is able to create beings that even the Evanuris have trouble handling. They are not immediately impressed and invite her to join their exclusive club - at first they try to handle it on their own, and when it becomes clear that even their revered hunter, Andruil, cannot stop these monsters, they are essentially forced to offer her ‘godhood’ in exchange.

2. Solas either wanted these creatures for himself, or perhaps it was a word of advice? She is still very much an outsider to these people, (which sounds a bit like Solas as well, to be honest). Regardless of her relationship with Andruil at this point, the rest of the Evanuris are sort of all related to each other. I believe I have read codex entries referring to Ghilan’nain ‘keeping herself apart from the People’ - maybe these creatures were some sort of insurance policy in case the Evanuris betrayed her.

Fen’Harel hunted ‘Halla’

Another piece of lore potentially ties Fen’Harel to Ghilan’nain. It is from The Masked Empire and is a story told to Briala by Felassan: “[Fen’Harel] had angered her by hunting the halla without her blessing, and she tied him to a tree and declared that he would have to serve in her bed for a year and a day to pay her back.“ In the novel, this story is more a lesson about how Fen’Harel outwits his enemies, but I do wonder if perhaps this reference to the halla is actually Ghilan’nain and Andruil was jealous.

Sidenote: What happened with Dirthamen?

This codex has led me to wonder if Ghilan’nain, who joined the Evanuris based on merit alone (assuming the other gods were all related to each other in some way), was heavily involved in the fate of Mythal.

There is another codex in the Temple of Mythal. This one can only be read if you drank from the Well of Sorrows. It’s about a man (one of Dirthamen’s people) who took on a form reserved for the gods (probably a dragon) at Ghilan’nain’s urging, and he’s punished by Mythal and Elgar’nan for it. Why would Ghilan’nain urge someone to do this? Was it urging like ‘go for it, you should try, it’ll be ok :)’ or urging like ‘turn into the dragon -- or else’?

Was this meant to create some sort of friction between Dirthamen and Mythal? (I’m thinking of that statue of Dirthamen in the Fade with a spear in its back, crying tears of blood, and the potential parallels between Mythal/Dirthamen and Flemeth/Osen: “she was betrayed as I was betrayed, as the world was betrayed”) I’ve said it so many times, but Ghilan’nain is a relative outsider by origin (an Evanuris by invitation) and by choice, if anyone would sow seeds of discord between the members of the divine family, I could see how it could be her. Although, I’m sure the Evanuris were the most dysfunctional “family” on the planet even before she joined.

Ghilan’nain and FH - Friends?

Alternatively, I could see Fen’Harel and Ghilan’nain working together. A codex entry on Andruil includes: “ Andruil put on armor made of the Void, and all forgot her true face. She made weapons of darkness, and plague ate her lands. She howled things meant to be forgotten, and the other gods became fearful Andruil would hunt them in turn.”

In Trespasser, there is a puzzle, about something fleeing “the hunter”, and in the puzzle this piece of information corresponds to a halla statue. If this is meant to represent Ghilan’nain, it is possible that their relationship (if it ever existed) was not a happy one, and at some point Ghilan’nain had to flee from Andruil. This in conjunction with the her respecting Pride’s opinion enough to keep her sea monsters + Fen’Harel “hunting” the halla, is enough to think that perhaps they were at least friendly with each other.

#dragon age #lore #dragonage #fenharel #ghilannain #dragon age lore #fen'harel x ghilan'nain #tinfoil hat time #andruil #mythal #everyoneforgetsaboutghilannain #ghilannainkilledmythal #solas #meta

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ohmypawsandwhiskers · 3 years

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Chapter 13 summary: Hareas's fate lies in the balance as Arianaya and Solas continue to tend to his wouds. Nehna requests the day off in exchange for a favor.

Snippet:

Nehna returned to the infirmary with flowers and food in hand where she found Solas and Aria sitting across from one another, conversing over a cup of tea- which Solas had yet to touch. “

How is he?” she asked, setting the food down for them before moving over to Hareas, laying down the flowers she had brought for him on the bedside table.

As she took a seat on the cot, she noticed a small, woven wolf tucked into the crook of his arm. Would it not have disturbed him, she would have picked it up to examine it, so instead, she shot a quizzical look over to the two of them. “Who gave him this? I have never seen it before…”

Arianaya nodded over at Solas, who rose to his feet to join Nehna on the other side of the cot.

“To answer your first question, he is as stable as we could get him. Even the spirits I have been in consultation with are unsure of his prognosis. It is an answer only time can provide.”

He dabbed the boy’s forehead with a cool cloth before moving on to her next question. “As for the second, I thought it might be a comfort to him. Arianaya mentioned he had no other toys, so I sent for one that provided me much comfort as a child.”

A small smile crossed Nehna’s lips. “That was very kind, Solas. I am sure he will appreciate it.”

“It was my pleasure.” He returned the smile with one of his own, before returning to the table where the food was laid out.

“He hasn’t given you any trouble, has he, Aria?” Nehna teased, running her hand through her own hair to shake off the nervousness she felt.

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in-arlathan · 3 years

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The Rebel’s Ascension

[Read on AO3] ∙ [Start on AO3] ∙ [Masterpost]

Pairing: Solas x Female OC | Tags: Angst, Drama, Intrigue, and lots of Elven Lore | Rating: Explicit | Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Implied/Referenced Torture, Explicit Sexual Content

→ Please mind the full list of tags and warnings on AO3

Welcome back, friends. Here goes the longest chapter I’ve ever written. And what a chapter it is! I‘ve been meaning to write this from the very beginning: a chapter about Arlathan in its heyday. I really hope enjoy the ride!

→ This chapter is NSFW. You can find a smut-free version over here.

Word count: ~13,300 (~87,900 total)

____

Chapter 15: Days of Gold

-4,500 Ancient

As the sun rose in the east and bathed the city of Arlathan in its golden light, it heralded more than the beginning of a new day. It marked the end of a century of mourning, and the dawn of a new era for the elvhen empire.

For a hundred years, the Evanuris had done all within their power to not only restore Arlathan to its glory from the time before the war. They had avenged the lives lost in the fight against the Children of the Stone. The sleeping titan that had rested beneath Arlathan had been slain by Mythal’s hand and its minions driven back into the depth of the ground. With the last of his forces, Elgar’nan and his soldiers had captured those elvhen who had failed the People by fleeing from the battlefield while Andruil, together with Falon’Din and Dirthamen, had set out to find and neutralize spirits of ill intent that had formed as a result of the collective suffering. They were aided by Ghilan'nain who had proved herself to be worthy of the title of Evanuris with her creations and helped bring countless demons to justice. All of this happened with Sylaise and June supplying them, and Geldauran, Anaris, and Daern’thal tending to the needs of the People within the confines of the city.

For a hundred years, elvhen and spirits had worked side by side to aid their elected leaders, their kings and queens, in their glorious endeavours. Many had pledged themselves to the Evanuris, offering their loyalty and servitude in exchange for reverence, protection and a cause worth fighting for. They had rebuilt Arlathan, adding to the splendor of its early days a thousandfold. Where once the buildings and streets had been decked with gilded mosaics, they were now accompanied by structures of pure crystal that reflected the sunlight in myriad colors. The crystal grew like a living thing along the largest of buildings, encasing even Mythal’s tower, the Sun Spire, and the dome of the assembly hall that had been built upon ar lath’an, the Ring of Summons.

All this was only the prelude to an age of greatness, albeit born of misery and suffering. The loss of countless lives in the war had led to an onslaught of anger and anguish among the People and their sorrows became intrinsically tied to the marvels they created. It was all an attempt to calm the minds of the People and prevent the creation of undesirable spirits. The Evanuris had guided the hands of their followers to ease their pain and give them guidance until the time of mourning had passed.

And now they were making plans to breathe life into the dream of Elvhenan. Soon, the People would move away from Arlathan to uncover new lands and make them their own. They would tame the beasts of the wilds and build new settlements to further the glory of the People. And all of them would be connected by a network of mirrors, the eluvians, that Daern‘thal had crafted with the titan‘s blood. After millennia of work and dedication and an entire age of restoration, Elvhenan was finally within reach.

» Keep reading on AO3

✨ If you like what I do, please consider supporting me on Ko-Fi ✨

#dragon age fanfiction #solas #fen'harel #elvhenan #arlathan #the rebel's ascension #my work

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dragonage-outoforder · 4 years

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I've read some theories out there and thought I could make my own small contribution with horrible futures in sight.

First and foremost, The Tree:

elven tree, alienages, blablabla... ok, so what to make of the urns surrounding it? I think this is our #1 kill all elves consequence to our fuck up Mr Bullshit Plans. as humans find out about this weird gathering of human hating elves, people all around thedas start killing elves to try and stop this weird cult. this will be an elves against everyone else war and even those who have nothing to do with it will suffer for it.

The Not-Skyhold one:

I'm not even gonna entertain the idea that this is skyhold because it's not and I doubt they'd even do that at all. BUT there are a few details worth pointing out: the greenish x reddish sky. as we know Sir Fuckup Alot didn't quite get to do as he planned and, therefore, couldn't smoothly take dow the veil - killing everyone but like, in a rip your bandaid fast fashion. without the ability to do so, I believe he will be resorting to more ugly, unfinished, messy methods. one might assume he will be using the idol as a powerful tool to try and do just that, getting the veil half torn and blighted lyrium everywhere. - side note: I do believe he will at some point use blood magic as he is not against it as a tool BUT I cannot even begin to imagine how. -

another detail is: fleshsacks looking bullshit on the side. I mean.... you get blighted lyrium everywhere means you get blight everywhere. kinda scared of what that means. I'm not sure I believe in a full blown blight in da4 but.... who knows?? I'm just guessing that regardless, we're gonna be having tainted shit every step of the way. maybe not a darkspawn but tainted shit.

Beating Blighted Bulshit Heart:

gotta admit, I wasnt fully convinced on the titan heart thing but... everybody is in this train and I think that was intentional on the designers. BLIGHTED TITAN IT IS. now this is gonna spill over the Not Skyhold One just a little bit so bear with me: assuming this is a blighted titans heart (yeah, it clearly is) we have to consider it is out in the open, the titan itself is ripped apart with it's heart up and vulnerable. we've all seen the focci/orb ~ titan's heart connection thingies. we also know solas lost his focci - which I will assume can only be properly used by their owners -. now... WHAT IF solas is trying to make a new focci with blighted titan using the idol?? or, alternatively, if he blights a titan as he uses the idol to make a focci?? AND ON THAT NOTE: what if this is the connection between elves and blights?? that to make the orbs they had to use the idol (and/or possibly other similar tools)? or in experimenting with titan's hearts and lyrium mining they corrupted it, made red lyrium and the extremely powerful focci? that would explain the orbs in trespasser as lesser, not as powerful, failed attempts. be it solas' trying to make it without corruption or from the elven gods themselves trying to make something more powerful. and sure, HAVING to corrupt a titan's heart to make it would mean a few setbacks but, in the elven gods mentality, they wouldn't give a shit about a few slaves monstrosities in exchange for power. hell, ghilan'nain was making monstrosities out of slaves just for fun! and that would explain his ass being so sad at his broken toy cuz he's like "babe, it's not like I can just get another one, this shit is fucked up to it's core, literally! but I need it cuz I'm an asshole"

so, yeah, that's it. LET'S TALK prove me wrong and shit, tell me what yall think!

#da4 #dragon age #dragon age theory #dragon age 4 theory #da4 theory #ea play 2020 #solas #blight #red lyrium #dragon age fan #dragon age fan theory #dragon age fade #dragon age fandom #dragon age funny #my playthrough #my theory

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dreadfutures · 3 years

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Five Favorites (Writing Edition)

Got tagged by @crackinglamb to post five favorite pieces of writing. :) Thanks, Lamb! New here so I got no one to tag. Ran into a weird problem where it wouldn't let me copy/paste into this post, so... We're sticking with just commentary about certain chapters of my DA fic. :)

(DAI) Dead Pasts, Dread Futures (Ch 49)

All of this chapter. Up to this point, Ixchel has been fixated on this idea that she can think she knows Solas all she likes, but she will never be sure. This is maybe the first time where she TRULY is given a reason to draw up short and doubt that she understands what he even IS at all.

And yet, he names her the Champion of his People.

I love dangerous Eldritch beings who masquerade as one of us, who deign to love us despite being so unknowably Other. And that's what Solas and the Ancient Elvhen are to me. If the Evanuris and the Old Gods are the same, and Falon'Din is an insane tentacle monster and Ghilan'nain is a tentacly-beetle giant...

(DAI) Dead Pasts, Dread Futures (Ch 57)(NSFW)

AKA Ixchel finally gets laid by an elf. Just, the wrong elf.

One thing that Literature (and fanfics) never prepared me for was just how tender and sweet and fun and humorous casual hook ups can be, especially with the right people. Ixchel desperately needed some of that: to be vulnerable, to be desired, to let loose, to have an outlet where she could finally unleash the admiration and generosity she has in her...

And one of my favorite lines I've ever written:

She lay spread beneath him as he shrugged out of his undone shirt and began unlacing his breeches.

“You’re a beautiful woman,” he said earnestly, “with a beautiful name. It’s shaped like something familiar.”

(DAI) Dead Pasts, Dread Futures (Ch 65)

This chapter has three parts that I really, really enjoyed:

Ixchel confronting Celene... Celene tries to give pretty answers rather than admit that she expunged the alienage, and Ixchel holds fast until she gets a stone-cold admission from the Empress. This is why I can't watch the news. That's all I want anchors and interviewers to do: "What did you do? No. Don't tell me about x. Just answer the question."

That exchange with Vivienne...one most surprising things about this fic was how Vivienne and Ixchel have developed.

And then...Ixchel is so tired already, and so nervous about the tight schedule she feels she must keep, and she has no ROOM in her brain to be anxious about Solas and yet she's anxious that he's jealous or upset at her for fucking Fenris and she just comes out and ASKS: Are you mad at me?

And Ixchel is free to give herself over to duty at last.

(DAI) Dead Pasts, Dread Futures (Ch 72)

The truth at last.

I had written "Solas tells Ixchel he's Fen'Harel" and "Solas finds out Ixchel already knows he's Fen'Harel" scenes about four other times, but this one just felt ad still feels so, so much more powerful than anything else I'd come up with yet. And best of all, it still tugs my heart and feels so fulfilling and they're not even lovers yet. That's miles away still. He's just her friend, and she's the Champion he wished he was, the Champion he wishes for his People, and for so long he's thought she's too good to be true and yet...here...he lays down a piece of him for her...and believes.

(DAI) Dead Pasts, Dread Futures (Ch 45/46)

I've said how cathartic writing this fic has been, and that's the truth. But the Emprise arc was a point where something really clicked with me. In my depressive states, I get really down about how I think my life will go in the future. My loved ones will say, "Do you have NO HOPE that you will (for example) have close friends after people start to get married? Not EVERYONE loses touch--" and I say, "Of course, I HOPE that's not the case. Of course I will do my utmost to make sure I stay in touch and cultivate my friendships. I HOPE."

And yet, they all seem hurt and puzzled. "You don't sound like you hope?"

But I hope. I hope so desperately. But Hope is a choice, and belief is a state of being.

When I'm out of those episodes, I look back on those moments and say, "Really?" lol

#long post #dead pasts dread futures #off topic

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melodious-stars · 4 years

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Longing;

(A commission for @dirthara-mama. Thank you so much hun, I hope you like this!!! Ayelet Lavellan x Solas abound everyone. Prompt: Angst. The first time Solas realizes he misses Ayelet, but I kinda messed with it a little bit. Solas just took over!!)

-x-

The first time he leaves her, a part of him splinters and never stops. A spirit of pride he had been, once, but somehow she is the only one who ever gives him pause, makes him doubt. It is... distracting.

And after Wisdom's death, it cannot be allowed.

He leaves her there in the plains - the bodies of the mages still burning - anger hot in his veins, the taste of ash in his mouth.

He leaves and it is fury and death and isolation (it will never be his friend again).

He is alone.

-x-

It is her who leaves him the second time, and it is grief and love and wrath so entwined it is almost unbearable.

You are perfect exactly as you are...

The reminder of Ghilan'nain is stretched across her face, bitter memory in his mouth, but he means it; she is perfection even still. He loves her. He loves her.

He kisses her like he cannot get enough, starving, aching, and in that moment he almost gives up everything... almost.

But in the end he cannot escape who he is, not even for her.

She pushes him, over and over, and he lets her. He deserves her anger.

Tell me you don't care, she intones.

Tell me I was just some casual dalliance...

She leaves, and it is spite and blame, and entirely his fault (he will never have her again).

He is alone.

-x-

The third time he leaves, it is solemn duty, but also relief.

He does not have the orb, and yet... (he is almost glad).

He must regroup.

You were right to be angry... I hope, in time, you will understand...

He leaves her before she can notice, and it is pain (he tells himself it isn't).

He is alone.

-x-

The final time Solas leaves, it is ruin and surrender.

He tells her everything he can allow himself to, tells her who he is and what he has done.

She offers to help him (no, no, no), but his heart clenches with dread even as it soars.

I cannot do that to you vhenan..

He loves her still.

And as she falls to her knees - out of time - he kneels with her, holding the hand with the anchor.

One last kiss, desperate, and he leaves her - slowly and more spent than he thought possible.

Var lath vir suledin..

He wishes it could.

Ayelet Lavellan was never supposed to be such a blow (but she is).

He is alone.

-x-

He misses the small things most of all, he realizes sometime after; the feel of Yel's curls as she lays her head in his lap, the smoothness of her skin as he traces it while he reads to her, the smile she gives him when she teasingly counts his freckles, the warmth of her body as she leans in close. The kisses that they can exchange for hours, worshipping her every surface.

It's maddening; enough so that he starts to slip into her dreams.

He cannot help but watch, enraptured, but every time she spies him he turns away.

He is alone.

...and yet...

she changes everything.

#my fic #solavellan #ayelet lavellan #ayelet lavellan x solas #my writing #commission #ahhh hope you like this #drabblesque #drabble #solas dragon age #solas misses her like crazy #but ya know #the people need him #no solas #ayelet needs you #but first she gonna kick your ass

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broodwolf221 · 4 months

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dadwc prompts and info

general info:

no character death

i prefer romantic or platonic

pls specify prompt list ur using

ot3/poly prompts welcome

general prompts:

rare/unusual words (mine, but feel rb/use it yourself!)

sentences

micro story (please send the word/phrase)

medieval/fantasy sentences

deep conversations

people who aren't used to kindness

quote prompts:

as said by cassandra pentaghast

as said by dorian pavus

as said by solas

as said by merrill

fluff/romance/smut prompts:

fluff

50 types of kisses

sleeping

cuddles and snuggles

smutfic (please send word/phrase)

angst/whump prompts:

what are you hiding from me?

eerie loneliness

heavy content (mine, but feel free to rb/use it yourself!)

patching up wounds

other prompts:

oc codex

fantasy setting

characters:

da2 - anders(justice) | fenris | merrill

dao - leliana | morrigan

arlathan - mythal | andruil | ghilan'nain

relationships:

anders x fenris

morrigan x (halcor | leliana)

sera x (delwyn | dagna)

ghilan'nain x andruil*

*messy/complicated ships, might end up in dead dove territory

major ocs:

nessa lavellan (f!rogue, solas)

velari lavellan (f!mage, solas)

atros shiral (m!rogue; city elf!inquisitor, solas)

delwyn lavellan (f!rogue, sera)

valyris lavellan (f!mage, solas)

developing ocs:

feydis lavellan (m!mage, ? maybe dorian)

yene adaar (f!mage, solas)

dimitra (non-inky, f!mage(/templar), cullen)

halcor brosca (m!rogue warden, morrigan then nathaniel)

less developed ocs:

yene adaar (female; mage; solas) yene is a driven vashoth who doesn't want anything to do with any of this, thank you very much. spends the early game looking for a way out but eventually realizes that because of the anchor, she's stuck here, at which point she starts making friends. planned solasmance bc i'm... immensely predictable. also he grows on her. this weird little elf guy who's obsessed with the fade and she's like. hm. i am charmed by the way u wax poetic about ur special interests.

halcor brosca (male; rogue; morrigan, then nathaniel) my canon warden, and someone i haven't written in many years but have been thinking about again recently. very rough around the edges, blunt, practical. has a terrible habit of diving headfirst into danger. he's enamored of magic and trust(ed?) morrigan 100% on everything magical - he also performed the ritual with her, so kieran is his son, although he never met him. afterwards during awakening canon he ended up with nathaniel - a surprise, especially since he didn't even know he was into men as well, but late nights talking around the fire slowly became more.

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galadrieljones · 3 years

Note

Your OTPs vs the unexpected arrival of a gaggle of Canadian geese (known in some corners of the internet as ‘murder chickens’). What are their exit strategies?

Daryl and Beth

Daryl would initiate a bumbling parley with the big time aggressor goose who seems to be in charge. After a couple moments of touch-and-go, he would manage to chill the goose out until everything calmed down, and then he and Beth would back away slowly and leave.

Idk why but I feel like Daryl wouldn't want to mess with a whole gaggle of anything. Probably he and Beth stumbled into their territory by mistake and he's not really in the business of angering geese.

Arthur and Mary Beth

Arthur would want to shoot the things but Mary Beth would insist he refrain. Instead she'd toss the geese some crumbs from a loaf of bread in her bag, like a peace offering, and they'd be on their way.

Arthur and Albert

Albert would get himself attacked by one of the geese whilst getting too close to the thing, trying to take its picture. Arthur would lunge at the goose in such intimidating fashion that all the rest would take off immediately for fear of becoming Christmas dinner.

Solas and Sene

Sene would shoot four geese with her arrows before Solas even had a chance to realize what's going on. By then the geese would be in total chaos, flapping around and flying away and Sene would now have four neatly hunted geese, which she would gleefully bring back to the cooks at Skyhold.

Solas and Ghilan'nain

Solas would watch smugly as Ghil negotiated with the geese in geese language. She can of course talk to animals, and she would convince them that they are in no danger, and the geese would ultimately be aloof and carry on with no trouble at all.

#this was fun lol #bethyl #arthur x mary beth #arthur x albert #solas x sene #solas x ghilan'nain

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allmywardensaresafeandsound · 4 years

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The Elven Worldstate (AU)

Old Blood and Mages Past

Warden : Lindiranae Mahariel (tag)

Class : Mage (Blood Mage)

Pairings : F!Mahariel x Alistair

Faithful to Ghilan'nain, obsessed with the idea of magic as a tool to manipulate life and death.

Keeps Flemeth's grimoire for herself.

Made a deal with the Redcliffe demon.

Kills the werewolves.

Anora is made Queen and Loghain executed.

Gains power of Blood and allows Avernus to keep unethical researches.

She refuses Morrigan's ritual, but secretly attempts a personal version of it with Alistair.

It seems to fail, as she is struck down after killing the Archdemon, but her corpse is never found.

Champion : Rose Hawke (tag)

Class : Mage (Force)

Pairing : F!Hawke x Sebastian

Malcolm Hawke was an elven mage, his firstborn, Rose, was born to a liaison with an elven servant a year before he met Leandra.

As Leandra is pregnant, she chooses to escape with the Mage when he returns from the Vinmark Mountains, and as Malcolm succeeds in taking Rose with them and Leandra accepts her in the family, they travel to Ferelden where the twins are born.

Rose grows to be a kind and timid young girl, gentle and generous.

She knows she is different from her adopted mother and human-presenting half-siblings, and even more so as she is discovered to be a mage.

Even growing up, and especially after Malcolm's death, she often relies on her younger siblings to make choices and take decisions.

Bethany dying in the prologue is a hard hit, and Leandra blaming her for it even more.

Carver is made a Grey Warden, and after that Rose has a hard time handling the responsibilities of the Amell mansion on her own.

She grows very attached to Sebastian and the Chantry life, helping her deal with her grief, guilt and insecurity, and returning to a life where possessions and status no longer weight her down.

In honor of her father and sister she does her best to help the mages in Kirkwall.

She forgives Anders for his choice, despite her sorrow and despair from seeing the Chantry destroyed, but, in the name of all the people he killed and the crime he committed, she does abide to kill him in the name of justice, giving him his wish for martyrdom.

She allies with the Mages and later flees from Kirkwall with Sebastian.

She is left in the Fade.

Orlesian Warden & Inquisitor : Elyon Andras (tag)

Class : Mage (Archmage)

Pairings : M!Andras x Anders, M!Andras x Cole

Trained in the White Spire before being recruited personally by Warden-Commander Clarel.

Despite his youth, he has proven himself on many occasions during his time as a Warden, growing in rank quickly before being sent to rebuild the Ferelden order.

Spares the Architect.

Once the Calling starts he is suspicious, in his search for old magic tomes, he attempts to track old acquaintances from the Spire which leads him to the Conclave and to, later on, become Inquisitor.

Allies with the Mages.

Leaves Hawke in the Fade (also as personal revenge for Anders) and forgives the Wardens.

Makes Cole more human.

Celene, Briala and Gaspard work together.

Drinks from the Well.

Vivienne is Divine, the Inquisition is preserved as a peacekeeping force.

Wants to redeem Solas or actually help him in his plans.

#au : elves #oc : Lindiranae #oc : Elyon #oc : Rose #per ref

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tenderthings-archive · 7 years

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day three: here lies the abyss

prompt: what lies in the Black City + “is there anything worse than death?”

rating: t

warnings: eerie horror

a/n: honestly, when corypheus said that the golden city was already black and empty when he got there....weeelll, it got me thinking. what more fitting prison for a bunch of would-be gods than a city in the fade.

for dragon age halloween week: (x) / @dahalloween

It was once golden, that much is true. Its birth came about during a time of peace, when kings were not yet gods and gods were not yet fools. They were young, and happy, and victorious. The skies still held the softest touch of green.

The city was not their first creation, but it was their best. In time, it became the last good thing they did for one another without malice or cruel intent.

Its walls shimmered in the sunlight, its peaks glinted beneath the moons. There was never a sleeping moment, but the streets were serene. There was no need to rush as glory, goods, and people came and went through the seven great gates in droves. Wherever one was, a bounty could be found, a fortune could be made. The only burden the people carried was their love for their lords.

Fresh water flowed through the city as its lifeblood, falling in endless streams from distant and hidden aqueducts as an ocean in captivity. Old and ancient trees went untouched, growing between, around, and amongst the many towers. The lowest branches sprouted the freshest fruit, the highest offered shade from the glittering, crystal spires. All those below did not know the cruelty of the sun, but rather the warmth of their gods.

When they were kind, the people flourished. When they were angry, the city went untarnished. None of them—not even Elgar'nan—would threaten the purity of Arlathan.

It was beautiful. They were beautiful. Now, what glimmered and shone, haunts and hungers, waiting to be felt once more.

This is not their home, this is not their throne. It was never meant to be, but they have no choice but to slumber within black halls, the absence of the sun, the moons, the mother eating away what is left of their bones. It aches, like no wound ever should. She was their heart; why did they cut out their heart?

In this place, of darkest lust and cruelest laughs, god-kings and divine-queens linger on. They claw at the walls. Andruil wails into the night, but there is no night here—only the sleek, seep of dead magic from the ceiling and the sky itself. She is without means to kill and they all must watch her twist, the madness she once forgot returning to her like the cruelest kiss.

Spirits look on. The demons look away. They know them by their true names. The proud and lonely dog never chose his, but they did.

Together, they drank from the fount of knowledge, first as a means to an end, then as a way to understand it. When the end became certain, it was only a matter of time before they’d forget who they really were. Fear is quite the trick.

Now, they see the quick-children beyond the gates. Dirthamen knows what they are and Falon’Din shudders in want; the shemlen have come so far as to know how to walk even in their dreams. Yet, they live and die for another god. It makes the the brothers sick.

Humans, even stupid and blind, breached their walls once and found only black black black and the blood stained satin seat where Mythal fell, two daggers at her back, four in her sides, one in her chest. Ghilan'nain wept, her hands cradling her head. Mythal opened her mouth to plead, or to curse, or to say goodbye, before the youngest of them broke her neck like she would any poor, hurt creature. The crack rang through the halls and she has not stopped crying since.

When the deed was done, none stopped to even close her eyes. She went into the Beyond, eyes and mouth agape, blood gathering in a pool beneath her silken dress.

She gathered them to speak of peace, promising merriment and a feast. She missed her brothers and sisters. She missed Solas. She missed them all, so much, and wanted to begin anew under a new banner, a new name, a new disdain. This time, their rage would be aimed at the coming invaders and their lost brother would return to them at last.

They did not hesitate. She was smiling softly in the way she did, loving and sure, when her once-husband took her in his arms and held her still.

“Elgar'nan,” she said, confused. “What is it?”

June knew no quarter then. Where the rest only struck once, he did again and again and again, shaking as he screamed. He did not want this, to hurt her of all things, but if they were to do this, they had to see it through. His face is streaked with burns, in lieu of the blood that splattered across his face, his clothes, his skin. She must’ve passed a spell of sorts, for his eyes burnt away too.

Blindly, he builds and builds. Ladders and stairs, windows and weapons, but when he turns his head, they all disappear. He is never certain they were there in the first place. He has no hands here.

The Beyond has become its name—impossible and unknown. Water no longer flows. The trees are barren, dead. When June takes from their bark, all that comes out is dust. Soon, he will sweep the city clean, but that day may never come. Arlathan was never meant to know an end to anything.

Only the Daughter sits still. She lays where her mother fell. When the Dread Wolf came for them, she did not resist. She sunk to her knees and prayed at her own altar, wishing she was what she claimed to be.

Her own children are dead, slaughtered in their beds when the slaves rose up. Her children and her children’s children gone, their homes grown cold, abandoned, then wiped away altogether. She felt them go. She knows Solas would never cause such a thing, but she—they, we—had done too much to see it ever undone. They deserved it. They deserved it all.

Arlathan was beautiful. Now, all it is a bed for the dead.

But gods do not know true slumber. Old and older gods still, awaken.

#dahalloween #dragon age fanfiction #dragon age fanfic #all fic #lore #well lore heavy #light horror #eldritch horror #-esque anyway #drabbles

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findsarahh · 7 years

Text

Beyond the Veil

Summary: AU. The Gods are said to exist above, but she has never seen them. Her mother is a high priest of Mythal, her twin brother a loyal hunter of Andruil, but they have never seen them. The Gods don’t come to the beds of the tired, the hungry, and the sick. She does. If Isera were to meet a God that came to the bedside of the sick and dying, then she would bend the knee. Until then, she stands tall and in defiance.

But…who is the man trying to heal the sick? And doing a poor job at it.

F!Lavellan x Fen’harel (Solas)

AKA: An AU fic about Isera and Fen’harel, where the Gods exist, but live on the other side of the Veil and only come to help or to damn the People. And Fen’harel falls in love with Isera, but she rarely prays to the Gods, so he has to disguise himself to interact with her.

Ch1 | Ch9

Isera stares at the glowing blue heart with each beat it pulsates magic. She quietly circles it unsure of how to free the souls encased within. “Is this where lyrium comes from?” She wonders out loud. “The dwarves mine it from…this?” She questions.

Isera has only seen the dwarves from afar. Much of their government and social structure are a mystery to her. The Elven Empire made trade deals with the dwarves, and only a select number of elven representatives and traders ventured underground. And the idea that the dwarves could invent anything

She glances back to Fen’harel who is staring up at the heart in a guarded interest.

“Do you know what this is?” She questions in confusion. While Isera has had extensive studies within the magical area, but nothing regarding the source of lyrium being a gigantic organ. “I thought lyrium was a mineral mined much like gold or onyx?”

Fen’harel seem reluctant to answer.

When he doesn’t answer Isera continues to press. “Do you know what it is?” She asks again. He looks away and begins looking around. “I have only heard rumors of other beings,” He sighs. “It is said Mythal is our first—that she just was, however, it is likely she was formed out of necessity as we once were.”

Isera frowns as she trails after him. “That isn’t answering my question.” She states as she watches him pace ahead of her. He looks disturbed. His face is guarded as he stares up at the heart.

“There are whisperings in the Fade. It is said when Thedas was first forming, Gods wandered the earth. Mythal for the elves and Titans for the dwarves while humanity was still growing,” he explains. “Like all aspects of mortal life, war is common.” His voice is low and unbothered. “Dwarves sought to conquer the elves and the elves sought to conquer the dwarves.”

He walks around the room with a sense of grace and austerity. “Prayers were sent and answered.” He explains. “Mythal struck down the Titans burying them deep into the earth as punishment for their deeds.”

Isera shakes her head in disagreement. “I never heard of a war between the elves and dwarves.” She states as she stops walking with him.

He shrugs. “History is forgotten. Oral stories changes, written stories burned or lost, it is unsurprising that elves, despite claiming to be immortal all willing, at one point or another, become tired of living and return to uthenera. With each passing generation, part of history is lost.”

“Yet you remember?”

Fen’harel turns to look at her. “No. Spirits enjoy acting with the mortal world. We, as Gods, rarely are meant to interact with mortals. We learn most of the events of your world from them. But they are fantastical creatures at times. Time does not exist in the Fade. By the time we learn about mortal issues, it could be centuries later.” He stops to stare at her.

“I would argue that your Keepers have found one of the Titans that Mythal banished eons ago.” He ends, extending his staff to tap the heart. The heart beat increases with the stimuli. “I wonder how they discovered this. Was it by accident?” He murmurs in thought.

“Fen’harel.” Isera’s voice is demanding and hard. “History is great and all, but right now my world is dying. Do you know how to destroy this heart and free the souls of the People?” She is impatient and desperate. The longer they stand here, the more people will die.

He cocks his head to the side. “I do not.” He answers. “Mythal did not kill the Titans, only banished them from walking the world.” He continues as he begins walking around the heart once more.

Isera looks at the heart, feeling the magical pulse through her body with every beat. “Fen’harel,” She whispers. “How does one kill a god?” She asks her eyes still staring at the heart. He pauses in thought. “Only God can kill another God.”

---

Banreas and the other hunters and warriors from all Temples were descending upon the Keeper’s tower. He had lost four of his warriors on the way up. Arcane warriors from Mythal, Dirthamen, and Falon’din flanked most of the spirit warriors who were bound by the Keepers to fight.

“Creators! They are never ending!” He hears from behind him. They haven’t breached in the inner sanctum of the keep, yet more and more spiritual guardians kept manifesting.

Banreas released another charged arrow into the chest of a spirit guard watching it evaporate into the air. “Keep pressing!” He shouts as he rushes forward. He begins chanting a prayer to the Gods with each step forward.

---

Isera watches as Fen’harel paces about the room speaking to himself out loud about to kill the being. Isera, on the other hand, finds herself entranced with the quiet hum coming from the lyrium. The souls of the dead flow around the heart slowly as though stuck in a whirlpool.

She can hear them crying out to her if she stands close enough. There is a magical barrier preventing them from flowing into the room, but underneath her feet, she can see a pool of lyrium and the more souls of the dead.

Isera bends down to look at the magical liquid, watching the faces of unnamed elves floating by shimmering magic. The song of the magic grows louder as she reaches down to touch the stream. It is as though the souls sense her nearing, ghostly hands reach out to her, calling out.

The ballad continues to increase in composition enchanting Isera lowers her hand to meet the departed essences. She can see the palms of the hands of the dead pressing against the barrier of the lyrium river, begging for her to come to them—“Vhenan!”

Isera jolts up, pulling away from the water the souls screeching in displeasure.

She looks up at Fen’harel in surprise as the melody dissipates from her mind. “I—“ Words a mumbled on her lips as the fog in her mind clears. Fen’harel has pulled her away from the edge. “I’m sorry,” Isera utters as she holds onto his forearms.

“The call of magic is stronger in this form.” He tells her as he pulls her to her feet, reference to recent ascent to divine power.

Isera looks away in confusion. “The song is wrong, though.” She answers. “The dead aren’t meant to…its tainting the music; can’t you hear it?” She asks as she looks back at him. Isera has always heard the song of magic. The melody exists in all things and gets louder with newer spells.

This lyrium is singing an ancient song that Isera has never heard in a quiet hymn, but the chant is off. Awkward and out of tune, but a song nonetheless. “Listen…” Isera murmurs as she raises her hand to silence him from saying anything.

Fen’harel looks down in concentration as he quietly listens to the song being produced from the magic. His eyes narrow as he realizes that Isera is right—the song is not quite right.

“It’s being corrupted.” He plainly states as he turns to looks at her with a frown on his face.

---

Ghilan'nain is standing next to the man claiming to be Isera’s father. She is masked as the dead man who would have murdered him as they ascend back into the hall. Felivetanis began explaining to her how the elite arose and corrupted the Keepers—it was insidious. It started as small changes at first, the higher leaders expressing a desire to serve the People better.

“The Keepers are isolated from the People,” He explains. “Only those in search of i've'an'amelan left the tower, and only the high elder left to deliver news of the God’s work.”

Ghilan’nain keeps her gazed focus as they continue to ascend the stairs. “Is that not what the Temple High Priest are meant to do?” She questions. She cannot recall having Keepers in her time, but if that was a forgotten memory or reality remains unknown for Ghilan’nain. It has been ages since she has been in the realm from which she was born in.

Felivetanis looks at her in confusion. He doubted that the education system has failed to such a degree. “The High Priest and Priestesses are to guide the People on a religious level, whereas the Keepers are meant for a government structure in addition to recording history by using scrying to communicate with the Gods.” He answers, his voice low as they approach the door.

Ghilan’nain hums with interest at the news as she pushes the door open, the fat fingers of her form pressing against the wood. The room is filled with elves of noble descent, dressed in elegant garbs fitting of a king.

Almost instantly she can feel the anger from the men radiating at her. “What are you doing?” One shouts with fury as he rushes up to her. “Lord Doshiel, you were given an order!”

Ghilan’nain cocks her head to the side. “Clearly, I misunderstood the order.” She answers, watching as men in robes begin surrounding her.

Another robed man rushes up to her. “You have always been an idiot, Lord Doshiel. The orders were clear as day. The prophecies were clear! You were to kill him and complete the ritual!” She snarls and pulling a dagger from her sleeve.

Felivetanis pulls back in defense. “Keeper Eirlana…” He murmurs.

Ghilan’nain hums. “Right, the blood ritual to fulfill the prophecy.” She answers as she stands still, appearing unaffected by the brandishing of the weapon. “What if the prophecy was wrong?” Ghilan’nain challenges eyes narrow as she attempts to learn more about the plot at hand.

The woman snarls. “You would dare question the Gods?”

Ghilan’nain sucks her teeth, withholding her comment, ‘Yes. All things considered.’

“Lord Doshiel, you helped translate the prophecy. Do you question your ability?” Another member speaks out and another repeats the prophecy:

“The blood of family seen

A rare set indeed

The melody calls

To seek the righteous path

Bring to us sacrifice

And return shall we.”

Ghilan’nain shakes her head at the idea with a short chuckle. “Return of what? The Gods?” She murmurs to herself before placing her hands on her hips. She had watched Andruil answer prays in cryptic messages such as this, but no one, no one, has a sincere desire to return to the mortal realm.

“I am having doubts as of late,” Ghilan’nain mutters. “How can you—we be sure that the prophecy came from the Gods?” She asks.

The group sneers at her and begin discounting her. “Truly,” Ghilan’nain adds. “How sure are you that it is your Gods that answered your call, hm?” She challenges. She knows it will be no use trying to convince them that their prophecy is not from the Gods. But Ghilan’nain is unable to mask her smile when she hears the deafening shriek reverberate the room.

---

Banreas watched in awe as his mother rode into battle on a shimmering golden yellow dragon with five horns jutting from the head of the beast. The dragon’s fire burnt down the door past the inner sanctum, allowing the army to flood further into the tower. The shriek from the beast sent primal fear down his spine.

He hears the calls to press onward, and he moves forward past the burning walls, ignoring the fear nipping at his heels as he enters the Keeper’s domain.

---

“I’m just going to stab it,” Isera argues as she removes her staff from its place on her back. “Only a god and kill a god. Well, you made me a god.” They had been arguing for the last few minutes on how to end the connection the tainted source of lyrium had on the Keepers.

“It could start a war amongst the Gods, Isera.”

“I’m sorry, were you in a different area of Thedas? We are already at war!” She shouts. He throws his arms up in frustration. She was apparently refusing to listen to his logic and train of thought.

“No, we are not!” He retorts with a shout as he turns away from her in anger.

Isera pauses looking away blinking back her tears. She always cries when she is angry, and she hates it. “You are here. And so is Ghilan’nain and Andruil.” Isera breathes out. “You do not have to believe that Gods are already at war. The People are fighting a God who has manipulated our Keepers. I am at war. My people are at war.” She answers through grit teeth.

He refuses to look at her, his back stiff with frustration. He wishes she would have stayed in the Fade with him. He could have forced her to stay. But she would have fought him every step. Isera would not relent until she was able to return to the People or the Beyond.

Before he could say anything else, Isera sent her staff flying into the beating heart watching it lodge in the main artery.

Fen’harel takes a sharp intake of breath as he watches the blue lyrium turning red with each weakening heartbeat.

“Well, that was effective,” the hum of Falon’din comes from behind Isera. She shrieks in surprise as she whips around staring at the god. He is under no guise. “What are you doing here?” She demands her hand over her heart.

He glances at her, tilting his head response. “Them.” He points to the souls who are rising from the river that is slowly being corrupted by Isera’s staff. She can see the pain in fear in the eyes of the dead as they struggle to escape the corrupted magical liquid.

“The lyrium’s corruption has hastened with the breaking of the seal. These souls will be consumed if I do not carry them into the Beyond.” Falon’din only states, unaffected by the recent events. He moves quickly passed them and begins humming a tune as he collects the souls into a white, sparkling gemstone that darkens with each soul consumed.

Isera can feel the charged, angry energy admitting from the red lyrium as she begins backing away from the heart.

“Isera, we need to go.” Fen’harel orders as he starts pulling at her arm to retreating to the higher levels. The energy only keeps building as the corruption keeps spreading. Isera lets herself be dragged up the stairs, watching as Falon’din rush to collect as many souls as possible ignore the swearing by Fen’harel.

---

Ghilan’nain jumps back in shock as the men and women surrounding her collapse screaming in pain. She draws her sword as she watches the bodies of the Keepers and Lords twist and transforms into abominations. A red glow is tearing through their skin, bubbling and distorting body and limbs.

“By the Creators!” Felivetanis shouts in fear and confusion. “Abominations!”

Ghilan’nain sneers as she cuts down a Red Keeper with easy. The swarm shrieks in anger. She shakes her head at the realization she is painfully outnumbered. “Come!” Ghilan’nain demands as she grabs Felivetanis by the arm, dropping her mortal guise. She pulls the man out onto the balcony, the Red Keepers hot on their trace.

“We are trapped!” Felivetanis shouts as he leans over the rail looking down. The drop is well over 300 feet tall.

“You’re a mage, transform into a bird!” Ghilan’nain shouts as she steps onto the banister. Felivetanis shakes his head. “I did not specialize in creature transmutation!” He argues.

Ghilan’nain snarls at the news. The idea that mages no longer learn transmutation is absurd to her. “Come here!” She demands as she helps him onto the banister. She gives him a sinister look. “Try to limit your screaming.” She mutters as she pushes him off the edge of the tower.

Ghilan’nain ignores the screams of the man as she jumps off the railing and plummets down towards the earth. Her magic consumes her as she transforms into a brilliant, silvered dragon with curved horns. She continues to dive after Felivetanis and catches him in her claws before pulling up, feet before the ground ignoring the screams of the People below.

Ghilan’nain lands as the Keeper’s tower explodes sending waves of light and metallic smelling heat. With dragon wings exposed, Ghilan’nain absorbs the heat of the blast as she uses her body to protect Felivetanis and the People from the debris and corrupted magic.

---

Isera feels a slab of rock pressing against her back. She is covered and dust and feels dizzy and disoriented. She tries to sit up but is unable to. Her head is buzzing with the sound from the explosion.

She feels hands pulling at her limbs as the slab of rock is slowly lifted off her body. Isera grunts as she tries to look around. Her head aches with every movement. Once she is free the people, who pulled her out from the rubble move on to save as many people caught in the blast.

Isera rests against the rumble trying to focus on her surroundings. She watches as a six, blue eyed dire wolf slowly approaches her. He bows his head as he presses his top of his muzzle against her face.

She wraps her arms around his neck breathing in the scent of familiar amber and chocolate. He shifts his body for her to climb onto his back. Isera smiles, her face hidden in his fur. Fen’harel walks her away from the debris. “Did we stop them?” Isera murmurs into his fur.

“Yes.” He answers as he keeps walking. “Mythal and your mother will assist with the aftermath of the explosion.” He explains.

“We should stay.” Isera tiredly argues.

“You have done your part, vhenan. It is time for you to rest.” He tells her. Isera feels the warm and familiar sense of magic consume her as a green light surrounds her body.

#solavellan #solas x lavellan #solas x oc #fen'harel #fen'harel x lavellan #dragon age solas #dragon age #vir writes

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