#aina lavellan

Not annoyed at all! I never tire of talking about OCs.

Alyx Trevelyan has a visibly broken nose- she took a Templar’s elbow to the face when the Circle was rebelling. She could have healed it properly, but she thought it looked badass so she left it that way. She doesn’t have too many prominent scars otherwise, because she is able to heal them usually.

♆ : Are they prone to violent outbursts or thoughts?

Alyx: Yes, in the sense of things like punching people she has no patience for. Thus the nickname “Sucker Punch” that Varric kindly bestowed upon her.

I was expecting something much more devious after you started with *rubs hands together and cackles* lol.... This is a good one though!

Aina didn’t properly realize it until she liked him a lot more than was strictly professional. From the get go, she spent time with him more than anyone else in the Inquisition, largely because he was also an elf and she was feeling a bit like a fish out of water around so many humans, especially with all the Chantry nonsense. She also found it fascinating to listen to him talk, so the end result was she spent probably too much time with him.

She didn’t think anything of it, though. She would flirt with him a lot, but she didn’t really notice she was doing it. She didn’t realize that what she was feeling towards him was more than just friendship and curiosity until the first time he really flirted back (the “no, I am declaring it” conversation), and then she had a very literal “OH NO” moment. There was considerable blushing involved.

Aina had thought many times about what she might do if she ever found herself in this situation. She had heard herself screaming her fury, had imagined the words she might use to curse him. She had felt the weight of her dagger in her hand, envisioned herself holding it to his throat. Even if she would never carry through with such a threat, some dark thing inside of her reveled at the look of fear she imagined on his face as he realized that she was not one to be trifled with, not one to toy with and cast aside like some idle fancy.

Or maybe she would simply let her hands do the talking, she had thought. There was something cathartic in the thought of a good shove, a well-thrown punch. He had promised her answers, dammit, and she would have them.

As she looked upon him now though, for the first time in two long years, all that anger washed away within a single moment. All she felt was overwhelming, almost unbearable relief. She let out a breath that she had never realized she was holding.

"I suspect you have questions."

He turned towards her at last, and though she ached to see the guarded look on his face, the mask poorly concealing the unfathomable sadness etched onto his features, she rejoiced to see him whole, unharmed.