Today's fluff is Solavellan flavored, because I will never be free. ^_~
This one takes place in Haven in the early days of the Inquisition, where Nesithra Lavellan finds herself unexpectedly assisted by Solas. >_>
Enjoy!
Nesithra stared at the Chantry woman’s face and did her best to maintain a careful expression of contemplative understanding as condescending words fell endlessly from her lips. Nesithra knew she should have not left her cabin, but she’d been hungry and in desperate need of something other than tea to sustain her. With her guard down as her skull pounded from the fever that had she’d just beaten back, she’d failed to notice the woman who had lain in wait to ambush her as soon as she left the tavern until it was too late. The wind was cold and even though Nesithra had wrapped herself in a cloak, it did little to stop the chill when her body was already tired from the illness that had taken hold of her the evening before.
“Herald? Did you not hear me?” The woman demanded, as she frowned down her stubby nose and looked at Nesithra as if she was some sort of disrespectful child.
Irritation swelled in her chest, as Nesithra wrestled again with her natural instinct to be brutally honest even though she had learned long ago that tact and restraint would be better choices. Normally she’d be fine, but she was exhausted, hungry, and sick, and the damned shem had been lecturing her for long enough her nose felt frozen.
“Of course I heard you, Sister. Who could not? Your voice carries like a dying nug on a clear night, sharp and unsettling.” Nesithra replied bluntly, her patience evaporating before she could think better of it.
The Sister sputtered and her face quickly reddened in a way that made her look even more like a nug, which tickled Nesithra just enough that she struggled to not laugh out loud. The woman was livid, and Nesithra was too sick to care at the moment. She just wanted to go back to her cabin and eat the food she’d ordered once it was delivered so she could go back to sleep.
“Well! I.. You!” The angry woman started to say, her words coming out in choked exclamations of anger.
Nesitha blinked and then braced herself for the consequences of her actions, unrepentant but resigned. Leliana was probably going to be very mad with Nesithra for making more work for her…
“Inquisitor, I need— Oh, excuse me Sister, I did not see you there. Are you quite well? I hope so, as Lady Leliana was looking for you. Something urgent, I believe.” Solas said as he calmly interrupted and then redirected the chantry sister. He kept talking nonsense, never giving her an opening, while passively crowding her just enough that the woman unconsciously found herself retreating. He gave her a perfectly polite farewell, earning a confused look from the woman as she scurried away from him and Nesithra.
Nesithra watched all of this with a sort of bemused detachment, as she felt her fever start to regain its strength. She had not expected Solas to come to her aid, as lately they often ended up arguing or debating more than agreeing on anything. She thought he was pretentious and snobby, and he thought she was naive and lacked understanding… Or at least that’s what had been said the last time they’d fought.
“Herald?” He asked her, something in his tone almost sounding concerned.
Nesithra blinked and then raised her eyes as she realized she’d been staring blankly at a rock as her mind spun.
“What?”
He frowned at her, and that was familiar, as he frowned a lot. Which was a shame, he was quite nice to look at when he smiled. Nesithra hated how miserable everyone always seemed here, but then again it was understandable as—
“Nesithra, are you well?” He asked with concern, jarring her back to the present once again.
Nesitha began to nod, but then hesitated and shook her head, before shrugging. She clutched her cloak around her a little tighter and then stared at Solas as her tired mind tried to decide what she should say.
“I will be. Just need more sleep… Some food too. I— Stop looking at me like that, I’m not dying. Exhaustion and a cold are a bad mix. Getting ambushed before I could return to my room merely wore me out more than I was expecting. Thank you for sending her off. Whatever you needed to ask me about will have to wait, I think…” Nesithra said in a tumble of words, her tone a bit more brusque than she’d intended, but she was at her limit and she knew it, so there was no point in regretting it.
He frowned at her again, and she found herself wondering if his face might get stuck that way, before giving herself a mental shake and urging her feet to start moving. She was starting to feel unsteady, and the whole point of ordering food to be sent to her cabin was so she could go lie down until it arrived. So she shouldn’t keep standing here in the cold.
“I didn’t actually need anything, and you are welcome.” Solas commented, as he moved up to fall into step next to the now moving Nesithra.
Nesithra’s green eyes narrowed for a moment, as her heated mind tried to figure out if she should reply to that, and if so, what should she say? Her usual wit was lacking, as she was using most of her energy to keep walking as a wave of weakness pushed at the last of her stubborn defenses. She’d pushed herself too far on her last mission, and now she was paying the price. She just prayed to her ancestors for strength as she could not afford to faint or fall in front of the man who had only just recently stopped constantly looking at her like she was an idiot youngling.
Nesithra’s foot caught and she stumbled, but strong hands caught her by an arm and steadied her before she could fall. As soon as she had her balance back, Nesithra looked over at Solas, not bothering to hide her surprise or gratitude. He wordlessly acknowledged her unspoken thanks and then released his hold so he could stride ahead and get the door of her cabin for her. Perplexed, she followed him inside, and then immediately threw off her cloak and headed for the steaming kettle that hung above the fire that she’d forgotten she’d put on before she left.
“I can do that for you. You should sit down before you fall down.” He told her, neatly stepping around her and thus putting himself between her and the kettle, and the things she’d left out on the table to make herself tea.
Her scalp prickled with that familiar kind of irritation that only he ever seemed to stir in her. He was using that tone again. The one that wasn’t just pretentious, or patronizing, but something else more annoying and infuriating to her; partially because she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was that bothered her so much about it. It’s not like Nesithra was a stranger to being talked down to, or told she was wrong about something by another elf. Both her Keeper and some of her elders had never hesitated to put the young mage in her place, whether it was deserved or not, and thus she'd grown a thick skin against that kind of thing. The thing was that Nesithra had never been some sort of impulsive or reckless youth like they had treated her. Even when she was older, most of her elders in the clan, despite supporting her appointment to First, still seemed to think she was forever a youngling and not the woman she'd become. The Keeper knew better by then, which is why Nesithra had been made First, but still…
“You need to sit down before you fall down.” Solas ordered, shaking Nesithra out of her thoughts once again.
Annoyed both at him and herself, Nesithra shot him a defiant glare before backing up and carefully lowering herself down to sit on the edge of her bed. Immediately her whole body seemed to sigh with relief, forcing her to admit that she was far more fatigued than she’d realized. Automatically she reached for her hair to braid it, but when her hands had to go higher than expected, she was once again reminded that she’d cut most of it of off— Many months ago… The fact that she’d forgotten alarmed her, and she immediately tried to feel her own forehead to gauge just how bad her fever had gotten. But she couldn’t tell of course, and the fact that she’d thought she could told her more than anything else that she was decidedly unwell. She wanted to collapse and be miserable in peace, but he was still here…
“You don’t have to stay here. In fact you should probably go before you catch whatever it is that I have.” Nesithra blurted out, as Solas busied himself with preparing the pot of tea she’d planned on making herself.
“You are ill, and in need of assistance. Your choices are myself, or one of the Chantry Sisters.” He told her, as he met her gaze.
Nesithra’s jaw clenched as a surge of stubborn pride uncoiled in her chest in response to the way he looked at her. He was always doing that, throwing weight around with his body language and words that implied he knew more than anyone else. She was so tired of his sanctimonious bullshit. Sanctimonious!! That was the word she’d been trying to remember before!
“You’re not my Keeper, or anything else other than a nuisance. So you don’t get to tell me what I need, or what my choices are.” Nesithra informed him, as she sat up straight and squared her shoulders, momentarily energized by recalling the word she'd been trying to remember.
“Perhaps, but the fact remains, I am here, and willing to help. Do you wish for me to add honey into your tea?” He countered, once again neatly dancing away and redirecting the conversation to suit himself. She hated and admired him for how easily he did that… Solas and his way with words was something that she both found fascinating and annoying as nugshit.
“Honey would be good, thank you… Is the real reason you’re on your own because your people got tired of your sanctimonious attitude and banished you until you could behave better in their company?” She replied, too tired to care much about the fact that she’d probably just been too mean.
Solas added the honey to the pot, stirred it, and then poured her a cup which he handed to her, before he looked down at her and said, “Is the real reason you are here because your own people had enough of your incessant nosiness?”
Nesithra’s thick eyebrows rose as a hint of a smile pulled at one side of her mouth, as she told him, “I’d answer that if I thought you’d actually give a straight answer of your own, but it’s good to know I finally hit you hard enough to make you stumble. Incessant nosiness was really the best you could come up with? I’m disappointed.”
Before Solas could reply, there was a knock at the cabin door. So he shifted his attention to answering it and helping the girl from the tavern inside with her burden. Once the food Nesithra had requested had been unpacked and the girl sent on her way, Solas returned his attention to Nesithra who had been steadily sipping at her tea the whole time.
“Give me your cup to refill, and then you need to eat.” He told her, as he held out a hand to take her cup. His hands were never chafed or chapped, despite the weather, which was another reason to find him annoying in her mind. As what kind of person could be so impervious to the elements while still acting like he was someone of little consequence?
Nesithra furrowed her brow and kept her cup firmly clutched with both hands as she pulled it closer to her chest protectively.
“You’re bothersome and bossy. Go away, I’m fine.” She said defiantly.
“And you’re infuriating and behaving like an infant.” He countered without hesitation, as he moved into her space and gestured for her to hand over her cup. He was scowling now, which was at least an improvement over his frown, as she found it oddly amusing. He looked like an angry egg.
“You’d know all about being infuriating… But I’m hardly an infant! Make up your mind, will you?” She countered.
Solas shot her a questioning glance, still standing far too close, as he waited for her to obey him. Nesithra stared up at him, cheeks bright and eyes brighter, both from fever and her own indomitable spirit that seemed incapable of backing down in a fight. She knew she was being stubborn and probably stupid, but she was too sick to care, and very tired of Solas’ contradictory behavior. If she was going to suffer either way, she might as well stop biting her tongue.
“You poke and you prod, insinuate that I’m young and naive, but then you light up when you get to tell me a story or when we discover something new out in the field and in those brief moments you treat me like an equal. If you hate me just say so already! I know I’m not what people wanted, or expected, as their damned savior from the breach. I know my ears aren’t the right shape. I know I’m too much of an elf for Sera and not enough for others. I know my tendency towards kindness annoys you… You may think you know me, but you don’t. No one here does… You made it clear that we are not friends, so you have no obligation to stay here— Ugh, my head is pounding.”
Nesithra pressed the butt of a hand to her forehead, to try to find some relief from the throbbing pressure. The pain was so distracting that she didn’t bother fighting when he gently pulled the cup from her other hand, as she needed that one to steady herself anyways as she fought a wave of dizziness that threatened to overwhelm her completely. She pressed her lips together as she kept her eyes closed and took deep steadying breaths, while the constant pounding in her head made her ears ring. She was vaguely aware of him moving around her and doing things, but she couldn’t seem to focus on anything but the pain in her body. She automatically resisted when she felt his solid grip as he tried to help her move the rest of the way onto the bed, like a stubborn halla who refused to be herded.
“Nesithra, let me help you, please. Your fever is too high, and I fear your illness is worse than you realize. I have a potion that should help, and then you need to eat to give yourself energy to fight this.” He told her, words firm but gentle. He’d never spoken to her like that before, and she found herself letting him help her before she’d even consciously decided to listen to him. He’d said please, like he meant it…
Solas had piled up soft things for her to lean against, so she could sit mostly upright in the bed. A blanket was placed over her legs, then a potion was pressed into her hands, which she drank without objection. She found herself oddly mesmerized by this softer side of the man who’d been more stand-offish than not towards her for most of the time she’d known him. A bowl was placed on a tray that ended up in her lap, and the scent of garlic and carrots that wafted up from the bowl was strong enough to reawaken her hunger. She ate the bowl with a quiet stubbornness that kept the worst of the dizziness away. Between the food now in her stomach and the potion taking effect, she felt much better by the time she finally swallowed the last spoonful. Solas wordlessly cleared her bowl and then returned her cup to her, which of course he had refilled with more tea. He took a seat in the chair he’d moved closer to the bed, and then watched her with solemn eyes as she brought the cup to her lips.
Nesithra took a long sip of tea and then leaned back as she let it slowly slide down her throat, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment as the heat of the tea helped ease the chill that had started to creep up her back.
Solas cleared his throat and then told her quietly, “I don’t hate you. However I do not deny that I have pushed at you, and questioned you, as you are a woman in a place of power and thus I wished to understand you better.”
Nesithra inhaled deeply and then cracked an eye open so she could look at him as she said, “It’s not power I asked for or wanted, but you already knew that. I’ve been honest to anyone who has asked about that. If you wanted to get to know me better you should have just asked to talk over some tea… I’m not hard to talk to, or so I’ve been told.”
“Your points are valid, but still…” He replied, hesitating as his eyes dropped.
Nesithra waited for a moment and then got impatient, “but still, what?”
“I don’t like tea.” He said with a small and sly smile that suited him almost a little too well.
“Well once again I find myself questioning your taste, Solas.” She quipped back, before drinking the last of her tea down to make her point. She wanted to say more but she had begun to feel like she was awash in a sea of heat and fuzzy discomfort, as her whole body screamed for rest.
Those strong but gentle hands were there again, taking her empty cup, and she opened her eyes to find him staring at her with concern and without any of his usual guards up. She openly studied his face, her bright green eyes taking in every detail they could as she found herself saying, “You’ve got freckles. My best friend had— has freckles.”
His brows did that thing again as he asked her, “Did something happen to this friend?”
Nesithra’s heart twinged, and for just a moment she considered not answering him, but that felt wrong, so she was honest as she told him, “I don’t know for sure… Everyone else thinks he died, but I… I feel like I would have felt him die. There would be a hole, I am certain, but there hasn’t been one.”
Solas lowered himself to sit on the edge of the bed, before he asked, “He was someone you were close with then?”
Nesithra nodded carefully, afraid to make her head worse by moving it too quickly.
“He was like the other part of me. Mamae always used to joke that she thought we were supposed to be twins. I miss him more than anything or anyone. He was never just my brother, he was my best friend, my only family left... If Gelen hadn’t gone missing I wouldn’t have ended up at the Conclave. So in a way this is all his fault.” She said, ending with something that was half laugh and half sound of grief.
“If your brother is anything like you, then I do not doubt that he also has a resilient nature and the intelligence to survive against the odds.” Solas said, without glancing away or giving any sign that he didn’t mean what he just said.
Nesithra appreciated that, as almost everyone seemed to think her nothing but foolish when it came to believing her intuition that Gelen was alive even though he was still lost.
“Thank you, Solas.”
“You are welcome, Nesithra. You should rest now.” He replied, as he moved to get up.
“I will… I just…” Nesithra started to say, but found herself at a loss for words, as the ball of conflicting emotions in her chest tangled with her overwhelming exhaustion.
“Save your words. I’ll come back later to check on you, and then perhaps we can talk more…” He told her as he placed her empty mug on the table, before turning back and continuing, “And to be clear, I do not find your kindness annoying, and I would not object to being your friend.”
Nesithra blinked owlishly at him, as if concerned he was some sort of fever dream her own brain might have concocted, but his image didn’t change, and there was something about the way he’d just said that… It had felt honest.
“Oh. Alright then. That’s good…” She told him, immediately hating how lame it sounded, but she was really really tired.
Solas gave her a fleeting smile, and then quietly let himself out. Nesithra stared at the closed door for a minute, and then leaned back into the pillows and finally let her eyes drift shut. She was full of warmth, but not all of it was because of the fever. He’d surprised her, and he’d been kind… Maybe he was more than just a sanctimonious asshole afterall.
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This week's prompt was hosted by my beautiful and talented friend @brennacedria 💜
Baby, you're all that I want
When you're lyin' here in my arms
I'm findin' it hard to believe
We're in heaven
–Heaven, Bryan Adams
So I decided to challenge myself and do something completely different this time... So y'all get some post-datv Solavellan 👀
Enjoy!
---
They'd been in the Fade for a day, and he'd barely spoken to her since they'd begun this journey. His hand never strayed far from hers though, and just the feel of his fingers entwined with hers was enough for a while. But now she needed more, and she knew he did too.
“Solas. You need to rest. I need to rest.” She told him, voice firm but gentle.
He paused, his shoulders tight, and she could almost feel his mind whirling as he considered his options in regards to how he should reply. He'd accepted her companionship, but he was still guarded, despite the fact that she'd not once tried to turn back.
“Before joining you, I had been awake for two days straight. I am tired and dirty, and…” Her voice trailed off, as her courage failed her, because she was afraid of voicing what she really wanted.
He turned towards her, concern in his eyes, as he studied her face intently. His wounds were healing, but he too was dirty and had dark circles from exhaustion starting to show. She pulled at his hand that was still clasped in hers, and she couldn't help but thrill slightly when he didn't resist her request for him to move closer. They just stared at each other for a minute, or minutes, it was hard to tell here. She carefully stretched up and placed a small but tender kiss on one of his many healing cuts, before pulling away and looking at him expectantly.
He let out a small sigh and gave her a tiny hint of a smile, before he said, “Come, I know of a place we can rest.”
Nesithra followed him, the paths of the Fade shifting to accommodate his need, as it always seemed to want to do. Before too long they were in a ruin that was full of verdant plant life and the sounds of running water and birdsong. There was a pool for bathing, and he bade her to use it while he secured them some supplies. Normally she would argue, but she was itchy and tired of feeling gross, so she just nodded and got busy stripping her armor off.
A small chest popped into existence as she finished her bath, the lid popping open on its own so a pair of wisps could twitter and fly out in ever widening spirals. She used one of the towels inside it to dry herself off, and then pulled on the clothes that also waited for her inside. They were simple things, but well made, and in colors she liked. Loose fitting pants of deep green, a long sleeved sunset orange linen blouse that had a wrapped closure, and a shawl made from halla fiber that reminded her of the one her mother used to wear in the evenings by the fire…
There was the soft sound of his breath hitching, and her bright green eyes immediately jumped to his face. He was back in the clothes he used to wear during his time with the Inquisition, and he held a heavy basket in his arms, as he stared at her.
“Your hand… It is not what I had expected.”
Nesithra’s gaze dropped to her prosthetic, as she'd forgotten he had never seen it without its armored covering before. It was a work of art, and incredible enchantment, and she had grown so used to it now, that she almost had forgotten it hadn't always been this way. In the waking world it was almost always covered by an armored glove, or some other kind of covering that made it less noticeable. Mariel, Dagna, Vaelyn, and a few other trusted craftspeople had brought the thing into being for her.
“It's one of a kind. It took multiple versions to get it right, before we got it to work the way I needed it to.” She told him, as she held it up in front of her and turned it so it caught the light. It was a perfect replica of the hand and wrist she'd lost to the anchor. The bones made from dragonbone, tendons and ligaments made from an array of enchanted materials that mimicked the appearance of the real thing. The veins were made of lyrium, with wires made from various metals woven in to reinforce it all; and the whole thing was encased by a translucent membrane that shimmered like a dragonfly's wings. Dagna had called it one of the best things she'd ever made, and Mariel had begrudgingly admitted it had turned out better than she'd expected.
Solas put the basket down after walking closer, before asking, “May I?”
Nesithra nodded and held her hand out for him to inspect. He held it with excruciating care, fingers skimming over it with the lightest of touches as he inspected it with a thoughtful frown on his tired face.
“It is an exquisite example of engineering and arcane art.” He commented carefully, before placing a kiss on one of its knuckles and moving away to reclaim his basket.
Nesithra’s cheeks flushed from the kiss, as that little gesture had brought back memories of similar gestures he'd made in the past. But she quickly stuffed those down and instead focused on helping him clear a spot for them to sit and eat together. The food was simple but filling, and the water in the waterskins was clear and cold. With her stomach full, and her body clean, she quickly found herself overcome by the exhaustion she'd been holding at bay for days.
“Vhenan, you should rest.” He told her, as she fought to keep her eyes open.
“So should you, Vhenan.” She countered, before stifling a yawn.
He sighed in response to her stubbornness, that he should have known was coming. She grinned at him and scooted herself closer, so she could look him in the eye, as she said, “I'll only rest if you do too.”
“I see the years have not made you any less demanding, Nesithra.” He said, with an arched eyebrow that made her want to pinch him.
“Shut up and hold me, Solas. We nap together, or not at all.” Nes declared, too tired to banter, or to bother being anything other than direct now.
Solas grew very still for a moment, her bluntness seeming to have caught him by surprise. The Nesithra he'd known a decade ago had been softer around the edges, and more diplomatic in her words. The woman who now sat next to him had spent those years honing herself into the leader and fighter she'd needed to be to survive and protect the people who depended on her. She still had some softness to her, but it was harder to find when she was as worn out as she felt now.
“Nes…” He said her nickname softly, and it made her chest feel warm.
She leaned into him and rested her head on his chest, her eyes fluttering shut as she soaked up the feeling of having him close for the first time in so long. His arm wrapped around her just before he leaned back and carefully let the both of them fall back into the mossy ground they'd been sitting on. She snuggled into him, wrapping an arm around his midsection. He held her tightly, his face buried in her fluffy dark hair, as he inhaled deeply and a soft sound of contentment slipped free from his lips.
They had a lot of talking to do, but that would come later. For now, Nesithra was finally resting in the arms she'd been longing to feel again, and that was more than enough for her. She fought to stay awake as long as she could, to really soak up the simple pleasure of being with him again after everything they'd been through. But then his arm had grown heavy, and his breathing had slowed, and she'd realized he'd fallen asleep. Happiness bloomed in her heart, as her own need for slumber finally won out. She'd dreamed of this, but hadn't dared to hope it might actually come to be… But it had, and that was all that mattered right now.
I want to write something silly and fun. So I think it's time for a ✨❄️Hallmark/Holiday Movie AU❄️✨ one shot.
The question is who do I write it about, and what setting should I choose? I'm torn, so I'm gonna put it up for a vote. Round 1 is the characters, then once that is decided, we'll do some extra polls for the details. ^_^
Round 1:
Which Pairing Should I Use?
Matteo Lucia Alessandro De Riva/Neve Gallus
Nadarevas Thorne/Lucanis Dellamorte
Mary Brithari Surana/Taash
Gelen Lavellan/Dorian Pavus
How dare you leave out (insert pairing here)!?
Voting ended onNov 18, 2025
Gonna put my OC tags in this post so y'all can click on them if you want to know more about them. ^_~
My beloved friend, @sandetigerrr , tagged me. So you all get a snippet of one of the Fluffbruary drabbles I'm currently working on. This one features Nesithra Lavellan and Solas, during the early days of Inquisition. ^_~
It's even still technically Wednesday! Enjoy!
Tagging @feralkwe because I too can be a nuisance like Solas 😘
I got tagged by @avoskorm and as a result I have spent literally hours working on these. Like, I started last night, stopped at 2am, and picked it back up today. (Can you tell my insomnia is back?)
There is not a proper stubbed tail for a mastiff style dog and it frustrated me greatly. I don't love how chunky some stuff is, or how hard it is to use on a mobile device (my chromebook was the only thing I could really use for it). However I was able to custom mix better colors for things like hair and to get a better grey warden blue.
Nadarevas' scars are as close as they're gonna get, but at least they even had scar options.
Overall I had fun playing dress up with my blorbos.
Gonna tag: @feralkwe @sandetigerrr (show me your oc >_>) @brennacedria and YOU (if you want to do it)!
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I was tagged by @brennacedria for this one, and I decided to dive into the depths of my WIPs to find something I wanted to post.
So here ya'll go, you get a snippet from Halam'Shivanas, which I started writing like a decade ago. I posted some chapters, then the writer's block hit, and I couldn't progress it. So I removed it from AO3, and picked at it off and on for years. I do plan on finishing it at some point, but that won't be for a while.
This snippet is the first time Nesithra met Mary Brithari. ^_^
After a few minutes of walking she pauses at the doorway she’d been directed to, feeling cautious. The stones under her feet chilling her toes, it is hard to feel comfortable in this place after seeing what could happen if she fails. Sometimes visions of that future haunt her dreams, red lyrium tainting everything and the sky torn asunder. On those nights her mark always twinges, every time she dwells on what could be, the damn thing seems to know.
“Mama wanted me to ask if you were coming in?”
Nes jumps, as the little voice cuts through her preoccupation. Staring up at her is a young child, face covered in freckles, with gold-hazel eyes full of curiosity. Just inside the doorway, Vaelyn watches, amusement on her face.
“Sorry, Nes. Mary is rather too good at moving silently. Come on in, please.”
The Inquisitor smiles and finds a spot to sit, choosing an overstuffed chair near the fire, pulling her feet up and sitting on them, in hopes of warming her toes. Vaelyn spends some time introducing her daughter to her cousin. Mary immediately begins questioning the Inquisitor, her queries ranging from what it is like to live in Skyhold, to what kinds of magic she uses, and what her favorite colors are. Lyn lets her daughter satisfy most of her curiosity before sending her off to bed.
With Mary tucked in for the night, Lyn escorts Nesithra into a study down the hall, closing the door behind them and then taking a seat in one of the chairs set next to the fireplace. Vaelyn waits patiently while Nesithra gets herself situated.
“I’m sorry for springing this on you unannounced, but I felt Mary meeting you was important. With the state of the world, and what is going on with the Order, I need to ensure my daughter will be kept safe no matter what happens… The closer I get to the north the worse this false calling tries to get a hold of me. I also can’t ignore that it is affecting so many of the people I hold dear.” Vaelyn says, looking vulnerable for the first time since they’d met.
Nesithra takes a moment to process Lyn’s words, the implications weighing heavily on her. As if sensing Nes’s thoughts, Lyn takes a deep breath as she scrubs her hands across her face and then starts speaking again.
“Not many people know about my daughter, and most of those who do are Grey Wardens. I fear what is happening to the Order may put her in further peril, possibly even from myself if my research proves useless. So I wanted her to meet you, just in case something happens in the fight ahead. I would like to know, if you would consider becoming one of her guardians? I want to make sure she doesn’t lose her relationship with our dalish roots if I should not survive this war.”
Nesithra lets the request sink in, recognizing the weight and responsibility of it, as well as how hard this conversation must be for Vaelyn. Her heart wants to leap and make her agree, but her brain knows that this is something with more potential consequences than she has the energy to fully consider right now.
“Look, I know it’s a lot to consider, so please don’t rush your decision. Mary is safe for now, and before too long will be in the custody of others who will be able to keep her safe far away from the dangers threatening Ferelden and Orlais. You should be downstairs with your friends, I’m sure Persephone will need help getting Dorian to call it a night.”
Vaelyn watches Nesithra leave, and lets her face relax, the smile she’d put on melting away into a vaguely sad but mostly blank expression as she leans back and closes her eyes. Her mind reels as all the things she has going on fight for her mental attention. She desperately wants to contact Vigil’s Keep, to check on her Wardens, but knows that isn’t an option. What she was planning on next would entirely depend on the report Stroud and Hawke sends back from the Western Approach. She sits like that for a good while, eyes closed but mind pinging from one thing to the next, the gentle crackle of the fire a reassuring sound.
I'm gonna selfishly tag @avoskorm and @sandetigerrr
Legit forgot that when I restarted Rev's playthrough this last time that I had to remake Nes, and that I had also spent a ridiculous amount of time trying to get her to look more like herself. So, tonight, when she popped up on the screen I was stunned for a moment.
I love her so much, and this version of Nes in DATV is much more accurate. ^_^
