#sahlin

@sahlintalas

A raven arrived with Leliana’s response: first, a small report on clan Lavellan’s last known whereabouts, and then the permission Aylen needed to separate from their current group to ‘investigate’ matters. She saved the note regarding clan Lavellan, buried somewhere under the contents of her satchel, and went to discuss things with the scouting group there in Emprise du Lion to let them know she’d be on her way.

They’d need provisions: food for the first part of the trip, and she could hunt for the rest of it. It was just the two of them, and hunting for two was not that hard a task. She’d need sharp arrows, bowstring to spare, a few more things. While off getting everything ready, she left Sahlin a note: 

“Got Leliana’s raven. I’m getting what we might need. We leave in the morning.”

She didn’t think she was ready for this trip: then again, she was pretty sure she’d never be fully ready for it. Going back to her brother’s grave... Which was hardly what one could call a grave. No rituals, no nothing. She’d buried him herself, and then had ran off in a panic caused by her guilt. She’d not been to the place ever since, but she would remember where it was: it was hard to forget such things.

@sahlintalas || the plot goes on 

Kaaras knew Ferelden. Some parts, he knew like the back of his palm. The road from Skyhold to Southron Hills went through easy roads with little trouble. If this had have been ten or so years ago, it would have been flooded with darkspawn and bandits even. There were still bandits, but Inquisition scouts were always moving through the towns, particularly closer to his home--no thanks to his orders. He was a Fereldan man, and he wished for his home country to be safe. As much as any other country, too, but Ferelden was, admittedly, easier. At least with the long roads.

They’d made their turn down the West Road and passed South Reach. It was then flat plains most of the way across farmsteads until they’d reach the small horse trail road that lead to the farm. Now, by law, that land was owned by his mother. After payments and making sure said payment was sorted, it had been signed over under her name as hers. Not even Kaaras’ when he put it all through for her. A real home, a real voice in Ferelden and security that made a difference.

All of this was familiar now. It had been for quite some time. There weren’t a lot of places around here that Kaaras hadn’t travelled as a mercenary and as Inquisitor. The Korcari Wilds and further west were still areas he wasn’t familiar with, considering the lack of work there when it came to making a living as a mercenary. 

There, just down the remainder of the hill, and by the forest line, he saw the farm come into view. From up here, he could see the rams and ewes nibbling at the grass. The farm wouldn’t have been unattended while his mother was out, so he assumed Aith was there. And it was long before he could see anyone that he could hear the deep calls of the mabari hound, Maxwell, echoing across the fields.

“I must admit, it’s good to be home,” he smiled. The look across his face said it all, without any need for words. His eyes were bright, and a little creased by the smile that he wore, wide even if closed. His chest puffed just a little as he was on Atlas, kicking him to go faster. 

Now that it was in view, he couldn’t wait. And he could see his sister step out of the front door and try and wrangle the loud mabari until she looked up to see the mounts and the wagon. Kaaras kicked again, now at a gallop as Aith let Maxwell go and raced forward. It had been months since they’d seen each other, even longer since he’d been home. And it smelled and looked fantastic, a joy settling loud in his heart as the hooves thudded and kicked up dirt road behind.

Pulling on the reins, Kaaras stopped Atlas and jumped off the horse, pulling Aith into the tightest hug he could without breaking her bones.

tell my muse how they make your muse feel.

whether they give them a sense of COMFORT and SAFETY, or send absolute CHILLS down their spine. perhaps they make them feel TRAPPED, or FRIGHTENED. or maybe, they even feel SPECIAL. let my muse know!! anon is optional!!

more sentence starters !!

It was early morning when Kaaras had woken up, the light starting to come through the doors and windows of his chambers. He and Sahlin both woke up rather early, sometimes at the same time, or sometimes one of them was up before the other. On those rare days, the both of them could snuggle together and not wake up too early, just to be lazy and content within each other’s company.

When he rolled over, Kaaras hadn’t expected that to come from the other man’s mouth. His eyes lowered and looked to the arm that was still somewhat caught beneath him, and he instantly lifted himself up, blushing and apologising, as if he may have hurt poor Sahlin.

A surprised little huff left the Inquisitor as he was straddled and sat on. 

Let’s Improvise

She didn’t even know what this was for: some kind of event to welcome certain nobles and thank them for their contribution to the Inquisition, she could guess. She was only truly sure that now the place was plagued with people in fancy clothing, a lot of food and she had Vivienne sneering at her, insisting her attire was not at all appropiate for the occasion. And- Mythal’enaste, now the Orlesian enchanter following her commenting something about her boots. No, by the god’s, I don’t have another pair of boots I’m not changing. Leave it be leave it be leave it be...

Ah, there. She saw her chance to escape from Vivienne’s complaints: she caught sight of a familiar face, and immediately rushed over to take the healer’s hand and stop him in his tracks, dragging him with her to the space that they were using as dancefloor.