#dueteragony

“You greet all your friends like that when they come home? Or just the best one?”

“No, no. Just him.”

What if I just dropped this part of the next chapter with zero context.

What then.

“Call me ‘hart’ again.” A demand, but not one born of anger or fear. No, Mellan was looking to her feet less and less, even as she criticized him, and the creature was treading on becoming just as smitten as she was arduous.

“I thought you liked ‘imp.’” Solas exhaled, the scope of the room narrowing less to a place full of people and more to a concept of a room featuring Mellan. “You have to admit, it suits you.”

“Humor me?”

“I see…” he acquiesced with little turbulence. “Ma heart.”

“Again.” The determination she held within her throat before vanished by a hair, her shoulder blade within his hand wilting just so. Like fragile paint chipping away in the rain, so was her resolve to stay away from waters she should not test. 

She’d read a story once within the library of a maiden laying cursed in dreaming due to touching a forbidden spinning wheel. Mellan felt as if she understood the princess’ plight a bit more now. What would be the harm in just a little prick?

“This is an odd bit of a grounding exercise,” Solas spoke softly, not wanting to arouse suspicion in those around them should his comrade need to make a hasty retreat. “Mellan, are you sure you’re alright?”

“Please, I just,” She shook her head, no real explanation given. “I want to hear you say it.”

Now why did that feel like a declaration? Was it the way she looked up to him whilst she said it? He was meant to be the one grounding her, and he was going to end up doing a poor job of it if he kept staring dumbfoundedly down at her like he felt he was now. Yet, her eyelids looked heavy, resting on her flushed cheeks. Her shoulders were slowly wilting right along with his ability to stand up straight, and he muttered “Focus,” as if it were to her, to keep her mind on the dance, when he was clearly stumbling right along with her at the snap of her pretty little bruised fingers.

“Ma heart,” he vowed to the causation of his ruin, and bent himself to lean closer to her face than he should, should he remain a gentleman.

“Again--” 

“Mellan,” He veered off course to keep her honour intact, and whispered into pointed ear. “The music has stopped playing, ma heart.”

Anyway Happy Solstice goodnight I’m not sorry, muah 💋

Tagging lovelies:

Hey, everyone! :D Its been a minute!

Thank you so much for the tags, @varric-tethras-editor​ & @palepinkycat​, I’ve actually got something a little... possibly juicy to share? A little... spicy, but not in a hot way??

I DUNNO MAN, THERE’S A LITTLE BIT OF UNCOMFY HAPPENING HERE HEEHEEHOOHOO...

Another owner of pointed ears had come shrieking from nearby, and Mellan tucked herself further into the gloom of a particularly shady parapet in order to avoid conversation with their owner. Their owner, who she soon learned, was not alone.

Interesting.

“Is this a trick?” Sera came hollering, the roll of her bright eyes hissing from her tongue as a much smoother voice attempted political civility. Or a compliment.

“Hardly. But, it is an opportunity,”

‘Solas,’ Mellan thought with a canoed brow. He was not one to converse with the infamous Red Jenny. At least, not by choice.

“You have already divided your group's membership. That is wise,” he continued as the pair paused in their walking. It seemed Sera had finally stopped in her carefree gait and was actually giving her elder a listen, maybe even consideration. “No one cell can betray all your secrets…”

Mellan knew full well that Solas knew a great deal about a great many things; now that was not exactly a secret. It was, after all, the original catalyst to their now blossomed friendship. Yet, now she could not help herself, and found her own ears tilted further towards this particular flavor of word that slipped forth off of the man’s honeyed tongue.

“Where d’you get all this, then?”

“Do you wish to be unnerved by another tale of my explorations of the Fade?”

‘Wherever indeed, ma falon,’ Their discussion’s stowaway mulled. If to be unnerved was to learn more than to be tsk’d away by simple explanations of ‘But the Fade!’ then unnerving Mellan would take with utter glee. She had another hand-waving from the advi--Aislin’s advisors, thank you, kindly. She needn’t more from him.

Not when he spoke so freely of ‘weakened aristocracy,’ and ‘removing others if necessary.’ Solas was now speaking to Sera of the possible ‘dirty work’ she and her Red Jenny organization may have to do if she truly wished to create lasting change, and he was talking to the woman as if he held experience.

She felt something bubbling from the bowls of her gut like an overflowing cauldron, and the concoction within her chest was not one she had truly felt before.

She looked at them, she looked at Solas fervently asking Sera if her goal was to change the political structure of her land, and Sera’s lackluster response of confusion at his supposed beratement… and Mellan felt ripened jealousy.

This next chapter is gonna be A TRIP... >:3

Tagging absolute A+++ nerds of my heart:

I understand that its technically Six Sentence Sunday... but, consider...

Consider... new full chapter instead? Is that cool with y’all?

Chapter 25: A Fool’s Errand

“‘When the Wolf failed, or won, we lost the People to war.’” Mellan leaned her torso over the great book, reading the text upside down - clearly the best way of going about it - and shaking her head. “Well, which is it? It would be wonderful if they made up their minds…”

Her body seemed alight with nervous magnetism, almost manic in the way she practically twitched with every movement. It settled into Solas’ skin even through the nostalgic ease of their refuge, and he worried that even the usually calming touch of his hand to her shoulder would electrocute them both.

She was… avoiding something, but what, he could not tell. Yet, all other signs pointed towards a person near crawling out of their skin to distract themselves from whatever else it was they were truly thinking of.

“Ma heart? Let the Dread Wolf wallow in failure for a moment longer,” Solas placed careful hands over the book as he, too, tilted himself forward. “He has dealt with it for dozens of years, I think he can handle it for a moment more.”

Though his smile disarmed her long enough to shift her ire to a pout, Mellan still let her hands dig into the fabric of her trousers. They did not hold the same dust as her usuals did; her ability to charm the Fade to her will was improving.

“I-I don’t,” She gnawed away at the insides of her cheeks, toes tangling into the plush ground. Not grass, ferns. She knew now what they stood for: enchantments, fascination. Magic. The secret bonds of love. She tried not to think on the last of that charming list. “I don’t see why we’re stopping. I’m just reading.”

Dark brow raised, Solas could feel his bones creak as he held himself together as to not shake the woman by the shoulders.

“Ma heart, I think we should, perhaps, turn our attention to a different book for the evening.”

“What?” Mellan blinked, face pink in the pale light as Solas began to close the book in front of her. “I was just trying to help,”

“Perhaps I do not need your help in this area,” He shrugged calmly, before any sense of control he held flew out the window as Mellan placed a hand on either side of the book to keep it open.

“I was not helping you, specifically?” The redhead scoffed, taken a bit aback, as she held her weight on those sides of the book, and consequently, Solas’ thighs. Rendered unable to move, unless he intended to shove the woman off with anything but politeness, the apostate was forced to stare back at her as she grilled into him. “I was under the impression that we were working together, ma fen.”

‘Ma fen.’ That weighty term all over again. “We are, ma heart, why wouldn’t we--”

“Then may we go to Skyhold?” Why did her eyes hold both hope and anger, and something else, all in a sickening mix? Why did he have to feel the same, and know by the heat engulfing his face that surely his own eyes reflected it back to her. “I’m ready, Solas, I know it’ll be safe, I want to learn--”

“We cannot, ma--”

“Why not?!”

When had she gotten so close? When had she trapped him this night? When her bitten fingernails clawed at the edges of the book, or from the moment she’d walked into the clearing?

She held a part of his anchor, but he felt the one captured by the creature.

“Mellan, I,” He held a hand to her face, the other desperately bracing the ground for balance, and her eyes shot open to show emotions now much clearer than before. It felt like looking into the finest sieve, its contents bare before him.

He should not have examined it, he should not have done many things with the Dalish woman, and it was all too late now. He saw frustration, and fear, and hope, and worst of all? A captivation which he mirrored, and had almost been wishing was a trick of the light.

A darting flush, a lingering look. A proper kiss goodbye. All tokens that could have been exchanged between nothing more than friends, and they were, and they could remain such, yet?

‘What is happening?’

Read the rest here on AO3!

This chapter took a LOT of work, and is pretty lengthy. There’s a loooot of tension, a lot of mystery, ust, and tension in general. I really hope you all enjoy!

Happy WIP Wednesday, everyone, and thank you for the tag, @noire-pandora​! I’ve shifting between writing Solas and Mellan being incredibly awkward prior to their first kiss--I’ve been publishing this fic for two years now and writing it for longer

And also writing Star Wars smut of an evil side character x an OC. Since I shared some of said smut last week, I’ll share some of the DAI Dumbdumbs:

“Solas!” Mellan’s hands whipped to her sides as if bound by ropes, fists clenched and expression twitching. All manner of accusatory thoughts raced across her tongue in preparation to match her face:

‘We need to talk!’

‘I feel led astray!’

‘I’m confused; you need to explain!’

‘I’m ill, and you’re the cause!’

But, Solas saw how her expression held just about as much strength as a pin balancing a paperweight. When his eyebrows crested up and grew a solicitous smile, her veil shattered. 

Shuffling slightly to the side, Mellan tenuously nodded her head towards the ground beside her, and her friend took his cue with grace.

They sat in silence together for what could have been an age. In reality it was no more than thirty or so seconds before Solas’ concern was the first to break.

“Would you like to speak about what happened, Mellan?” He knew better than to ask if the woman was alright; she was clearly not. Though, he would have to be more specific on just what happenstance in particular they’d be speaking about. 

She sighed. “From a completely academic standpoint?”

I want to put them into a salad shaker, and I love them so much. 💙

Midnight Mass Sentence Prompts!

(NOW I DON'T THINK THIS IS GONNA GO WHERE YOU THINK THIS IS GONNA GO AND I HOPE THAT'S OKAY MY BELOVED--)

"We made our choices, and bring good news. The Heralds--” Leliana paused, something just short of a smile gracing her lips as she shook her head slightly before correcting herself and continuing forth. “Inquisitor--”

Meanwhile, Mellan only murmured beneath her breath. “Almost slipped there, Lady Nightingale…” This little 'pop-in' felt more like a check off a to-do list than anything that truly mattered, and the elf kept her arms crossed and her gaze towards the floorboards. She didn't even bother to notice the secondary pair of eyes that combed over her, as if their own look could comfort her, somehow.

“--Lavellan has finalized the attendance plan for the ball.”

Solas kept his expression as neutral as possible as he turned his full attentions now to the assassin, instead of the anxious archivist. He had been hoping this announcement would be a bit less on the side of grandeur, but now 'a bit' seemed well, a bit of an understatement.

“Now, my lady Mellan, your attendance is required, of course.” Mellan chomped her teeth behind already chewed lips, wishing nothing more than to sink into the wood below her. Joining the rats and mold there would be good, anything was better than where she was now, in her eyes.

“Joining you two will also be the Commander,”

“Of course he is,” she sputtered out with no hesitation, her own eyes bulging at the boldness. Such things were meant to be kept inside, and she knew that, but with all the anger and irritation she'd felt of late, it seemed she'd run out of room for inner thoughts.

Solas knew that Mellan was not as versed in the tells of a trained assassin, but he certainly was, and he could practically taste the vexation that pulsed off of Leliana at Mellan's outburst. He couldn't help but feel biased in his friend's nature, mind you, but he also knew when to bite, when to bark, and most importantly, when to covet one's fangs.

Mellan was in the midst of growing her own set, and lovely though they may be, they would form crookedly should she not train herself on how to properly latch.

“Shocking though this may seem, my lady," Leliana took a step forward towards her fellow redhead, hands tucked neatly behind her back, walking one agile foot in front of the other. "But, myself and the Lady Montilyet will also be at your side that evening.”

Stopping only a few feet away from Mellan, their difference in height showed through, as did the way the two carried themselves. It was not only age that separated the pair, but experience.

'Know when to bark, ma heart.'

“He is one of your advisors, as we all three are.”

“No, you are my sister’s advisors.” Mellan looked up to said advisor from dark-rimmed eyes, unwavering in her gaze, much unlike her voice. “I have no such advisors.” She knew - as did Solas - that her favored council came elsewhere.

“Mellan--”

“Advisors equate to a role that I do not have, nor do I want.” The elf's voice remained near monotone to keep itself from shaking, against Leliana's warning. Raising slightly as her hands balled to fists, and her fingers bit her palms like vipers.

Finally finished Mellan’s tv tropes like I said I would 500 years ago...

Posting this on my lunch break quick because AHHHHH FINALLY AN UPDATE IN THE SAGA OF PINING DUMBASS #1 AND PINING DUMBASS #2!

Thank you so much to freaking angels @fiadhaisteach​ @oxygenforthewicked​ @noire-pandora​ @emerald-amidst-gold​ @drag-on-age​ & @ashalle-art​ for the tags, y’all are the bestest. 💙

Chapter 18: Are You Certain?

“Glad things went well for you,” Varric breathed, a mirthy glint in his eye as he stood to the side of the small semi-circle that had formed. Solas and the Iron Bull finished the shape as they all made their way towards the main courtyard. “I’m not about to lie and say I didn’t enjoy some extra time to write while Sera was away.”

“What, she get you now, too?” Bull snickered, reaching behind Solas’ spot in the center to lightly punch at Varric’s shoulder. As the two men laughed, Solas only groaned, hand going to his temple to massage the aching muscle there while the other adjusted the small pack at his side. “Eh, hopefully she relaxes for a minute or two, right? After all, Solas did take one for the team.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Oh, yeah. Lizards in his bedroll.”

“Charming young woman, really.” the apostate huffed, before he let the hand at his eyes fall to his side as they walked into the sun. Blinking as blue-grey irises adjusted to the glare, what fell into his sight-line soon after had the man ignoring all the rest of what Varric and Bull said.

“If you’ll excuse me,” he spoke lowly, the faintest hint of a growl harbored in the back of his throat as the hand at his side clenched to a fist before it was hidden behind his back. Long legs strode with acute purpose, and Varric barely had time to see what had caught Solas’ attention before the man was halfway to his destination.

“And speaking of charming young women,” he chuckled, opting to lean next to the stone doorway they’d just made their way through. Bull, on the other hand, paused, putting the pieces together of a stranger with his hands on Mel’s face. Shouldn’t they all be concerned? Luckily, the blonde beside him soon clarified: “Looks like Melon’s met Hawke.”

“Oh.” Bull paused, letting a deep breath out of his nose, crossing bulky arms over an even bulkier chest. “The Hawke?”

Varric nodded. “Infamous rogue, Champion of Kirkwall,” he began to list, before the bristling mage had reached the pair. “And possibly the new proud owner of Solas’ foot up his ass.”

—

Mellan hadn’t even the time to respond to Garrett’s final accusation, before a new presence made itself known with, quite possibly, the single most irritated cough she had ever heard in her young life.

“Ahem.”

Mellan’s head turned towards the sound, Garrett’s hands still on her face as she looked up and saw, “Solas!”

“Ah,” Mischievous realization dawned on Garrett whilst his smile grew, extending itself just as his words did. “Solas…!”

Read the rest HERE on Ao3! :D

Local guard dog go bark bark

(please enjoy this meme I worked way too hard on)