(Please do not take, save, use for AI training or repost- Thank you! Reblogs are fine ♥ )
Joined in on another Sunday draw-along with @thehangedmancreatives and this picture started out very different. Then while I was looking through my screenshots for references I had an epiphany and this was born. Sort of an examination of "what if Solas won-- at what cost?" and "what if he became what he hated/fought against?" (and 'what if bringing down the veil only broke things more')
Stayed up late to finish it and upon waking up realized I forgot to tint the final layers around the throne (meant to have it match the wolves a bit better) but eh, still very happy with how it came out. I hope I never paint another mosaic again though. That throne was miserable to do lol. (also bonus eyebrow waggles to whoever can guess what I referenced from the game for the initial design of the throne arms. Actually I'm quite proud of the design in general.)
i imagine elizabeth pitching the idea of 'ill be a hawk and you pretend to be a falconeer' to fenris and fenris being between this is the worst idea ever, no one's gonna believe it and ok i guess we're doing this
No repeatable kisses in DAI for Lavellan and Solas? Fine, I'll make my own.
I always thought, with viewing Solas as a private man, that a walk through Skyhold gardens late at night, just the two of them holding hands would have been a lovely repeat romance scene for them. So pretend you don't see Crestwood in the background.
This animation was started on April 1, 2024, when we were still waiting for the Dragon Age: Dreadwolf trailer. I finally came around to finishing it. Hooray!
Close-up of Solas's face after the cut.
I only have one slot available and I’m not sure if I’ll open these again in the future!
Offering a tweened animated portrait, it can be for a pfp so no lip syncing and more motion (completely experimental) or to a short audio clip with lip syncing
Plot: Solas asks Ursa how she can stand having a body and a few old wounds begin to heal.
Solas hid in the doorway of Ursa's fortress as the Evanuris came for him, trying his best to keep out of sight but still be able to see what was going on.
Her and the first seven of her children stood between him, Ghillanain, Elgar'nan and Mythal, their wings, horns and tails on full display.
It was the way they always looked when the Evanuris came, or those that represented them arrived on their doorstep.
A not so subtle reminder of who they were dealing with when they stepped into her domain in the southern parts of the world.
"What do you want, Evanuris? Make it quick, we have things to do." Ursa growled in irritation, her true thick muscular form pulled up to it's near 8ft height.
Ghillanain spoke first, feigning diplomacy, "We have come to retrieve what belongs to us. We have it on good authority that you possess them."
Ursa lifted an eyebrow, "I have no magical items of yours, nor do me or my kin have need of them. whomever told you must have been mistaken."
Mythal stepped forward, "Come now, Revasan, you and i both know what you have. If you hand them over we will walk away quietly and peacefully."
Ursa shrugged, "I have no idea what your talking about. As I said, none of your artifacts are here. So you are clearly wasting your time."
That was when Elgar'nan charged forward, "Do not play with us, Mother of Monsters, you and your freaks have in your possession not only Ghilinain's new creations but Mythal's hound. I command you to give them back."
Ursa started to laugh then, an angry and mad thing that ended with smoke pouring out of her mouth.
"Give them back?" She snarled and snapped, "They are people! Living, breathing and thinking souls who sought refuge from Tyrants like you! They are not pieces of meat to be grind-ed or shiny baubles to to be passed around. So long as it is their choice to remain, they will be protected."
Mythal turned to Ghilinain, "Very well. Ghilinain."
Ursa smirked as Ghilinain pulled a magical horn from her robes and blew into it.
The sound echoed through the mountains of their forest home but nothing else happened.
Ghilinain blew through it two more times getting increasingly frustrated as Ursa and her children began to laugh.
"Aw...Confused Mother of Halla?" Ursa snarked.
Mythal hissed at her, "Why isn't it working? They should be coming to the call of the horn."
"I don't know!"
"May I explain?" Then Ursa opened her mouth as a huanting song echoed from her throat like a sirens call. Her children joined in, followed by dozens of voices of dragons and then finally hundreds, no, thousands of voices that belonged to the dragon blooded elven creatures that Ghilihain had created.
All appeared and surrounded the Evanuris, fire, lightning, and ice blazing in their eyes and mouths.
"What? How are you doing this, thief?" Ghilinain accused.
"Did you forget so quickly how you created them in the first place, Mother of Halla? Or shall i remind you?" She growled, smoke flowing out of her mouth.
Ghilinain stepped back as if she had been struck. "How-"
"Did i find out? Do you forget what my true title is? I am the Mother of Dragons. Me and my children rule the skies." She then roared as Zazzikel wrapped their arms around hers, tears flowing down her face. "Do you think for one moment i would not know what happened to my own child?"
Mythal snapped her head around towards Ghilinain, "You used one of The Seven? Are you a fool?"
"They were the only one that could survive the process."
"The Seven are her direct descendants! She bore and gave birth to each of them herself! And you thought she would just let that go?"
That was when Elgarnan sighed and stepped past them into Ursa's space, causing her to tilt her head.
"I am tired of this, Mother of Monsters. I command you to return to us what is ours. Now."
She smirked wickedly, "No."
"What?" He snarled.
"Did I stutter, Command?" She purred as she ran a tongue across pointed teeth.
"I am a God of Arlathan! You will obey!" He screamed.
"And before I was the Mother of Dragons I was known simply as Freedom. And I say... Fuck. You."
Elgarnan swung at her then, only for her to dodge with ease and answer with her fist burying itself in his stomach.
Elgarnan dropped to his knees, coughing and retching as dozens of dragons landed on the mountain sides surrounding the valley and hundreds of the dragon blooded elves came out of the woods to surround the three Evanuris.
Ursa looked down her nose at him in disgust as the other two tried to get him to his feet.
"It seems even those you created agree with me."
It was then Solas himself, adorned in her colors, made himself known next to her, his face clear of the facial markings Mythal had bestowed upon him.
"As do I." He spoke coldly as Ursa wrapped an arm around his shoulders and kissed his temple.
"How dare you!" Mythal yelled upon seeing him. "How dare you run to her after everything i have done for you!"
Ursa just turned to him, signaling that it was up to him to respond.
And so he did.
"A wolf is only loyal to those who treat it well." He spoke in an even, almost emotionless tone. "And where you only threw scraps on the floor, she allowed me to sit and eat at the table as if i was one of her own. What else do you expect? I was a spirit of wisdom after all."
When Solas's eyes opened, he found himself tucked into bed, sick and alone.
Or at least, until he saw movement out of the corner of his eye.
When he turned in it's direction he found Ursa, wearing only her breeches and the wrappings she used to bind her chest with, using a wooden practice sword to go through various sword forms as if in meditation.
Her moves were slow, and methodical, making her thick muscles ripple and shine with the sweat beading on her skin. Her hair was pulled up in a short tail, allowing his eyes to follow a bead of moisture, down her neck, over her broad shoulders, down her almost barrel like chest and to the firm and muscular abs with a soft layer of fat and a multitude of stretch marks that came from giving birth to the brood that he now noticed was missing from the room.
Sprits...she was...incredible.
You would think a spirit of freedom would chaff under the weight of a physical form but, no.
She had taken to it like a fish to water.
And to watch her thrive within it was a glorious site to behold.
Unlike him.
Solas moved and held up his hand in front of his face and sighed as he begun to feel the weight of his physical form once again.
He longed to be rid of this body that he didn't want.
It was cumbersome and heavy, isolated from the fade he loved.
He was tired of it.
But there was no escape.
He couldn't go back to the way he was.
No matter how much he wished too.
Ursa and he had tried every possible avenue before the veil but, Mythal's will was permanent.
It was why he had fought so hard for his people in the first place.
Many of them had been just like him, made to have a physical form, then used and tossed aside.
His eyes then drifted to Ursa as she stilled her training and began wiping her body with a cloth hung over a nearby chair.
He wished he had stayed with her.
He wished he had listened to her.
It was a foolish notion, though.
And now he had to live with it.
A hand, about the same size as Iron Bull's but the color of a tanned elf, wrapped round his as the bed dipped to account for a much heavier weight than his.
The hand was followed by a second, resting the back of it against his forehead.
He looked up at her face, seeing scales of lava running up the sides and molten gold cat like eyes where her green had been. On top of her head, grew a set of layered horns that ran from her temples back along her skull like burnt branches sharpened into spears. And as she checked him over and placed a gentle kiss on his knuckles absentmindedly in the way only a mother would, he noticed her long magma colored tail gently swing back and forth.
"You let the glamour down." Solas commented sleepily.
"Hmm?" She responded as she glanced at him. "Oh, yeah, I do that occasionally. Good for the muscles."
"I can see your horns and tail. But...where are your wings?"
"Gone. Or at least for a while."
Solas sat up, "What happened to them? Are you all right?"
She patted his hand, "It's fine. They got blighted when i tried to help my son during the fifth blight. It was either I had to take a good decade or two to regenerate them or become the sixth archdemon. I chose the former."
Her being a blighted archdemon was a terrifying thought.
She was called the Mother of Dragons, not just because they came from her but because she could sing to them and call them to her side.
All dragons saw her, no matter the form, as one of their own.
She was the eight missing Old God, lost to time and memory.
If she had been corrupted, one Archdemon would become an Archdemon and at least a half dozen blighted dragons or more on top of the horde.
"An unfortunate sacrifice but better than the alternative."
"I know right. Thankfully Dumatt figured out a sort of preventative in the same vein as the joining using his blood so I am protected now."
"Really?"
"Yeah. It's why the Ferelden Wardens aren't hearing The Calling like the others are. Instead they have all retreated to Soldier's Peak and sent out word to other Wardens that if they want the calling to stop to meet the Hero of Ferelden there. It's been helping. And he-" Then her eyes fell to his and the hand against his forehead switched to hold his face. "Hey, you okay Lethalan?"
Solas shook his head knowing lying to her was near impossible.
"What's going on?"
He sighed, "How do you do it?"
"Do what?"
"Stand having a physical form."
An empathetic look crossed her face before she pressed her forehead to his.
"Your physical body is getting to ya again, huh?'
Solas just nodded as he fought back tears.
"Well, to answer your question, the obvious answer is that you wanted to have it in the first place."
A self deprecating chuckle of agreement escaped him.
"But for those that posed the same question that were like you I will give you the same answer i gave them."
"And what is that?"
"Find something small that you can do with your physical form that you couldn't do as a spirit. It can be anything. Laying in the sun and feeling the warmth on your skin. Burying your face into the soft fur of a cat."
"Being sensually devoured by the mother of dragons." Solas accidentally offered.
Ursa's brow immediately rose as that feral and hungry smile of hers crossed her face. "Oh? That helped did it?"
Solas's face and ears turned red as a beet, realizing he had said out loud what he had meant to add mentally.
Ursa, having caught on laughed, "You didn't mean to say that out loud did you?"
Solas shook his head as he tried to hide his face.
She laughed harder, throwing her whole body into it and clapping her hands.
"Titans, I missed you." She giggled as she rubbed the top of his head.
He swatted her hand away as a few giggles escaped him.
"But in all seriousness," She began, "I wasn't kidding about that. If you can, find something that helps. Even if it is small. I remember you used to paint a lot and play music. Pretty hard to do that without hands." She wiggled her fingers for emphasis.
"True."
"For what it is worth," She sighed as she held his hand in both of hers, "I am sorry. I wish me and mine could have found a way to change you back. But, just try and remember that your not alone, all right? If your form gets to heavy, I am more than strong enough to help you carry it. Okay?"
"I will try." He smiled as pieces of his soul he had not realized were broken, began to mend.
"That's all we can do." She then rolled her shoulders as if shaking off the melancholy that had fallen between them. "So, Now that your awake, I have a much more serious question to ask."
"What is that?" He asked as she proceeded to sit cross legged in front of him.
"While you were snoozing away, I got too witness the countless holes people seem to love poking into your creation. So, while you were wandering around, have you gotten a chance to check in on Tweedle dee and Tweedle dumb recently?"
"Who?"
"Elgar'nan and Ghili'nain."
"Ah." Solas couldn't help but chuckle at the nicknames. "Yes, I have."
"What's the status?"
"Not good."
"On a scale of minor inconvenience to we're fucked."
"At present...a lot closer to the latter than the former."
"How close?"
"The prison is deteriorating."
"Fuck. How fast?"
"Fairly quickly."
"In mortal or Arlathan?"
"Arlathan."
"Okay. So we have time to at least get the current situation handled."
"Yes."
"Anything me or mine can do to help?"
"Unless you can find my Lyrium dagger then, no."
A flash of recognition crossed her eyes, "Which one?"
"The one I used to create the Veil."
'The one with the ring at the top that could be hidden as a statue of a woman?"
Solas tipped his head to teh side, "Yes. Do you know of it?"
"Well..."
One story of the Champions of Kirkwall later...
"It is contaminated with red lyrium? Where is it?"
"Last i knew Gabriel had it. He keeps it sealed up in a warded box that he keeps with him. He and Lucasan were trying to find a way to purify it as soon as Lucy recognized what it really was."
"So it is in your family's posession?"
"Yeah. Last i heard they nearly had it figured out they just need some missing ancient artifact they think is in Arlathan forest somewhere."
"Then it is safe." He exhaled in relief. "Can you get a missive out to them?"
"Yeah. Why?"
"I have the artifact they will need. We can have Varric or Razikale set up a drop for them, If that is all right with you?"
"No problem. I will get dressed and get right on it." She then turned to the desk in the corner and handed him some parchment and Ink from it. "You write up your letter and I will get everything arranged."
Solas began writing as she dressed and placed the glamour back over herself, but once she started heading for the door he grabbed her wrist.
"What's up?"
"I just...you and your kin have done so much for me despite..." He sighed as he tried to find the words through the guilt.
"Hey, don't worry about it." She reassured him as she rested her hand over his, "Your family. We don't leave family behind if we can help it."
He nodded, "Just...Thank you."
"For what?"
"For reminding me that...I am not alone in this."
She leaned down and pressed her forehead to his, "Your Welcome Lethalan." She then stood back up and patted his shoulder, "Now, you get that letter written and get some rest. We have a big day tomorrow."
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