#solrian

Artist: https://vk.com/freak_y

For me, yeah!

Tagged by @mxkelsifer to find the words flame, mischief, sun, and alone.

No pressure tagging @spindleweedss @mullethawke @hawkeharel @breadedsinner and your words are breathe, night, close, and doubt

Flame:

The candle burned low, flickering as if complaining about its lack of wax and grasping for the person sitting at the large wooden desk, using its light, to notice and feed the flame.

Herah, however, was completely oblivious to the plight of the poor candle, focused her gaze on own source of fuel, her shoulders hunched over as she leaned awkwardly on a desk that was not designed for Qunari height. Her eyes were trained on a textbook detailing a theory on the exact manipulation of the Veil behind lightning magic. This particular author did not hold back her criticisms of other existing theories - theories of which Herah's prior reading had consisted - as she pushed mercilessly for her own theory.

There was, however, reason for her confidence, Herah thought, as there seemed to be good evidence in support of her stance, and many of the points she made filled in the gaps left by other scholars. And yet Herah still felt that there was something missing from the explanation.

Something that she couldn't quite place in that moment.

Perhaps it was getting too late, she realised, as she at last noticed the dimming light of the candle, its flame almost nonexistent. Perhaps she would be able to make better sense of the vying theories after some rest and time to consider what she had consumed.

Mischief:

“Amatus! Come quickly!” Dorian called from the en-suite adjourning Solas’ room, his voice insistent.

Solas ran in immediately, scouting the room for danger. “What’s wrong?”

“Why would anything be wrong? I simply found the perfect outfit for you to wear when we announce our relationship to the rest of the Inquisition,” Dorian grinned mischievously.

“Oh, for... Dorian, we’ve spoken about this.”

“Yes, yes, I need to be less captivating and overall more boring. Look at it,” he thrust a t-shirt into his hands.

Solas sighed but unfolded the garment regardless. He was curious to see what had gotten his boyfriend so excited, but when he saw it his face blanched. It was a white top with the words ‘fade nerd in the streets, dread wolf in the sheets’ scrawled across it in a large, bold font.

“No,” he refused.

Sun:

The first thing he noticed when he awoke was the hushed voices of people above him. They sounded worried, he thought distantly, but it felt like the thought was not his own as the lightheaded sensation from earlier returned. His limbs ached as if he had fallen down some stairs. Had he fallen? He couldn’t remember.

Slowly, he opened his eyes. He was glad that they seemed to be out of the sun, but confused about how he’d gotten here. It appeared he was in a tent so he assumed that they’d managed to set up camp. His eyes immediately were confronted with Dorian’s concerned face hovering over his own.

“You’re awake,” he said softly, his usual mask of self-confidence and indifference gone.

“What happened?” Solas asked, his voice raspy from dehydration.

“You fainted.” Dorian paused to pick up a wet cloth and apply it to the elven apostate’s forehead. Solas hummed in appreciation. It was pleasantly cool on his overheated forehead.

Alone:

“You have hopes for reform, correct? To do so would require you to actually go to Tevinter at least for some time. I would go with you, if you allow it,” he replied, sounding very much serious.

“Amatus, it’s hardly the safest place for elves. I cannot encourage you to enter a place where you’re very existence would lead to your persecution,” he sighed.

Thanks for tagging me, @nug-juggler and @cartadwarfwithaheartofgold. 

Tagging @blarfkey, @queenaeducan, @myrddinderwydd, @midnightprelude, and anybody else who wants to participate. 

The only non-revision work I’ve done this week is the still-untitled Solrian fic I’m fiddling with, so here’s more of that.

“Why him?” Solas wanted to know.

“As I recall, the two of you share interests in history, science, and art. Not to mention that your conversations always seem—animated.”

Solas bristled. “Regardless of our animated conversations, Dr. Pavus and I share interests, but not opinions.”

“At least you have something to talk about. And I have proof. The two of you were talking for almost three hours at that party.”

“What you saw there, Varric, was two scholars having a barely-cordial argument. If much more wine had been involved, fists might have flown.”

“That’s not all that might have flown,” Varric said suggestively.

“This isn’t one of your lurid romances,” Solas reminded him.

“Of course not. My characters prefer to let their fists and blades settle their arguments. They don’t stand around talking each other to death. Just curious, what were you two fighting about, anyway?”

“The latest journal article by Pacilius. The author claimed Tevinter had developed an entirely unique method of oneiromancy using the attributes of the Old Gods. I asserted that was a false claim, as Tevinter’s oneiromancy is clearly derived from aspects of the techniques used in Ancient Arlathan.”

Varric shook his head. “Do you hear yourself sometimes? Normal people don’t have conversations like that!”

Solas stared at his friend, eyes half-lidded. “It’s a perfectly normal topic for scholars to discuss.”

“And that’s why you and Dorian are perfect for each other. You’re the only two people I know who would even know the word oneir—whatever that was.” He held up a hand, signaling stop. “And no, you don’t need to define it for me.”

Dragon Age Inquisition

Solas x Dorian

Written with @sleepykiks

After the battle against Hakkon, the dragon was dead. The Inquisition has successfully freed another settlement from chaos. The inquisitor was off dealing with the Avvar while Dorian, Solas and Blackwall recovered from the fight. The avvar has opened up their homes and offered their furs to them as the magical frost still lingered in the air. The view over the mountains upon the glacier hunting ground was awesome to behold.

“I can’t believe the world forgot about Inquisitor Ameridan. He was a hero.” Blackwall said as he sipped a large mug of ale.

“Yes, so easy how the sacrifice for good can be twisted into villainy.” Solas said wrapped tight in a wolf pelt. “I can sense the spirits have calmed. Perhaps now the truth can be spread with the inquisition's influence. The people must know what happened to their hero.” Solas spoke admiringly and turned to the inquisitor, who was off staring at the murals on the wall petting Storvacker.

“The Avvar seem keen to make sure the current Inquisitor is remembered.” Dorian said, fussing with his hair. The glow of a bonfire bounced off the rocks as the twilight set in. Sounds of festivities carried on the air and the smell of cooking meat wafted through the hold as the Avvar prepared a celebration for their victory against Hakkon.

“I wouldn’t get too comfy. We will be expected to make an appearance,” Dorian said as his eyes fell on Solas and his snuggly wrapping of fur.

“A celebration of meat and ale with the occasional brawl? I have seen such festivities in my dreams. I look forward to enjoying it for myself.” Solas said brightly. “Though after that battle, I’m afraid I might have to call it quits early.” He added and stretched out his sore shoulder.

“I thought you were on the back lines with me. What happened?” Dorian asked.

“Seems the dragon clipped my shoulder with his claws.” Solas said and yawned. “Besides, I’ve been looking forward to dreaming here. The spirits these Avvar look to as gods are externally calm and old. They must have a vast wisdom to share, and we only have so much time before we leave again.” Dorian stared at Solas.

“Why dream about these things when you can go experience them?” Dorian questioned.

Dragon age!AU, в которой Дориан невольно становится Инквизитором после смерти Лавеллан в Битве за Убежище.

«— Я хочу, чтобы ты остался сегодня здесь. Не ради метки, — Павус сделал акцент на последних словах, так и не убрав руки, и поднялся пальцами по волосам, сплетённым в тугие, немного колкие пряди, перехваченные лентами и нитями с россыпью мелких бусин, — Солас

“Ты нужен мне”, — так и осталось неозвученным. Руки опустились вдоль стройного тела и остановились на талии, притягивая, прижимая спиной к горящему треугольнику груди, виднеющемуся в разрезе халата из тонкого имперского шёлка...»

Artist(cmm for me, eah): https://vk.com/vorobionish

Ooh thanks for the ask!! 💛 This one took me a little while but I think it’s probably this little snippet from a post-DAI fic I wrote back in 2020. Idk I just really like this fic 😅

The waiting was almost excruciating, or at least it was for Dorian. His entire future was up there being decided and there was nothing he could do but stare up the mountain and hope for the best. A silence fell over them, solemn and expecting, like when the dark clouds of a storm appear overhead yet not a single drop of rain has fallen. Dorian had no idea how long this silence went on for, but it felt like it could have been days, or at least hours.

Every passing second saw him more worried about what was to happen. What if Solas left him without saying goodbye? What if he did say goodbye but refused to stay? What if he did stay only to leave later, breaking his heart anyway? Dorian didn’t know which option was worse.

He suddenly felt a wave of nausea pass over him. He rushed quickly to the side of the path, hoping to preserve some of his dignity as he hurled into one of the decaying bushes which had previously lined the way. His breath was ragged and uneven as he shook from the combination of nerves and the aftermath of the battle. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could take this.

As if by some miracle, he suddenly felt a hand on his back, firm yet gentle. He would know that touch anywhere. He twisted around swiftly and was greeted by the face of his husband, his tired, battered down husband, but nonetheless his husband. He hesitantly reached out to touch Solas’ face, almost expecting him to dissolve upon touch. Yet, he remained even in response to touch.

“Solas...?” he spoke, as if it were a question.

“I will not desert you, Dorian,” he reassured him, pulling him closer using the hand planted on his back. “I did not marry you only to abandon you now.”

“But your plans..?”