* KEEPER'S / FIRST @emryslavellan - Tumblr Blog

storytellertm‌:

varric arched a brow at that, a smirk of amusement tugging his mouth upward. “well, elves and werewolves, if any of those old folk tales are to be believed. and since i’m clearly not an elf - ” he leaned closer toward the fire, casting a narrow-eyed look at the other through the flames, “ - you might want to be afraid.” he lowered his voice in feigned threat, though the curl of his lips easily indicated at his teasing. within moments, it shifted into a playful wink and he straightened back, idly stretching. at emrys’ mention of the chill, however, he gave pause. varric himself didn’t feel too cold - some of his companions likened him to being a bit of a walking furnace, with the warmth he radiated - but he shifted around nonetheless, looking to see if there was anything that would help. “maybe we should’ve brought extra bedding,” he joked. without any spare material, however, all varric could offer was a distraction. with any luck, it might help the other settle. with a hum, he started, “i ever tell you about this one guy? orlesian. miserable bastard. hated the cold, but lived up in the highlands. so one day, he gets into his head that the best way to keep warm is to build the world’s biggest bonfire…”

the laughter warms the chill of his bones, night air whipping around them, even the fire seeming to dance as the dwarf spins his story. there is something to be said for the joy a simple story can bring, merriment twinkling in the elf’s eyes, the corners crinkled in mirth, shaped like crescent moons. his fingers curling in the desert sands, the still sun-warmed earth a comfort as the fine grains sift and slip through his fingers as he watches the other man, entirely enrapt.

as the tale comes to a close, emrys’ laughter is bubbling, bright as it bursts from the depths of his belly, head thrown back before it flutters and settles. his voice is soft in the moonlight, fingers twitching before he brushes the sand from them off at his knees, drawing them close. his curiosity piqued, ❛ is he––– exemplary of his sort ? orlesians ? ❜

#*:･ﾟ✧ varric.#*:･ﾟ✧ varric | 001.#*:･ﾟ✧ thread.#*:･ﾟ✧ location | western approach.#*:･ﾟ✧ flashback.

fenorsolas‌:

The elf stood just out of the rotunda, watching as the Inquisitor moved around the main hall. He was impressed with how far they were coming along. Of course, he would have preferred an elf, but beggars could not be choosers. And Solas was neither.

He fled to the rotunda, gathering up the papers on his desk and setting them up nicely in the corner. The shard the Inquisitor had found was on the corner of his desk, pulsating and ringing softly.

A footstep disturbed his thoughts, and he turned to meet them.

“Tea time already?”

@emryslavellan

❛ i figured we could both use a drink, all things considered. ❜ all things including, but not limited to, the uneasy silence of the still ruins hanging onto the edges of every moment’s peace ; haunting his sleep every night since their departure from the western approach. the dark glass bottle hanging loosely from his fingers by the neck is of mid-tier ferelden wine ( one day he would trick convince the other mage to try dalish whiskey, one day ), something they’d agreed upon the first time they’d found themselves here ; emrys moving to lean against the desk, fingers smoothing over the grain, violet eyes watching the other man’s subtle movements in the low light of the rotunda, solas’ nose turning up at the prospect of actual tea during what they had dubbed ‘tea time.’

the memory of it tugs at the corner of the elf’s lips. ❛ the sun’s getting low, and the tavern’s fires are lit. surely we couldn’t be blamed. ❜

#*:･ﾟ✧ solas.#*:･ﾟ✧ solas | 001.#*:･ﾟ✧ thread.#{ tea time is 2 pure }

storytellertm‌:

@emryslavellan

the fire crackled and licked at the sky. at night, the western approach grew cold, and varric tossed another handful of kindling into the flames as he sauntered past. first, the campfire; then, the tent. after, only once everything was settled as well as they could be in the ass-end of nowhere, varric settled atop a low rock, stretching out his legs as he looked to his companion. scout the north. the assignment had seemed easy enough, though varric hadn’t expected it to take so long - they’d been away from the main camp for days, by this point. though they were now on their way back, he had let exhaustion settle against his shoulders, and he sighed as he glanced at emrys. “i can take first watch,” he muttered, reaching for the flask of their mostly depleted water. “you should get some rest.”

stretched out on a bedroll, long lines of elegant limbs crossed casually as he stares longingly into the fire, emrys shivers for want of warmth. he had been so certain he’d escape the cold this far to the west ; in a desert, no less. alas, it would seem not, and he’d laid out his bedding as close to the crackle of the fire as common sense would allow, violet eyes watching the flames with a pitiful sort of hunger as he settled.

the sound of shifting sands tickles the tips of his ears, drawing his attention from the burning flame to his dwarven companion. there’s the flash of a smile and the uptick of a dark brow before the low hum of a soft voice, ❛ isn’t it elves that are meant to commune with the moon, varric ? ❜ tone teasing, doe eyes drifting up to tut at the heavens, ❛ besides, i’m not likely to catch a wink with this cold. ❜

#*:･ﾟ✧ thread.#*:･ﾟ✧ event | 001.#*:･ﾟ✧ location | western approach.#*:･ﾟ✧ varric.#*:･ﾟ✧ varric | 001.

blvckwall‌:

@emryslavellan reacted for a starter

The strange mixed population of Skyhold never failed to give Blackwall pause – not that he could judge too harshly, in his old life, this was the last place he would’ve expected himself to end up. But now… well, now, this was the right thing to do. And at the very least, he tried to do that. He supposed that’s what most people were doing here – if not trying to escape for protection, then to be here… doing what must be done. He’d seen the elf around, and, ever curious to hear stories of lives that were unlike his own, he sought him out – unsure of why exactly, other than pure curiosity. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to such a crowd,” he commented. “Life of a Warden isn’t exactly… like this.”

he’d only been crossing the grounds, setting out from the tavern to the tents, having volunteered to help the healers for the day. it was something familiar, helping those in need, and carrying food to dole out to hungry mouths was something he was accustomed to. it brought him peace of mind in otherwise chaotic times where it was all too easy to let his mind slip into needless, useless worry.

the sound of steps falling in with his own surprised him, and he half expected to turn violet eyes onto the broad width of a familiar commander. he was surprised to instead to look upon ser blackwall –– but his expression softened all the same. he hums, ❛ solitary, was it ? have you found skyhold overwhelming ? ❜

#*:･ﾟ✧ thread.#*:･ﾟ✧ blackwall.#*:･ﾟ✧ blackwall | 001.#{ blackwall setting out to learn about other's experiences #and generally being a good man is !!!!#love him bless u }

fereldenliion‌:

The smile eased his nerves. Emrys was…a strange friend. Not that Emrys himself was strange, but the circumstances of their friendship were something to frown about. Emrys had started taking care of him in the more conventional ways. Food. Rest. The occasional cup of tea.

He returned Emrys’ smile, sitting his work down and neatly stacking it next to another haphazard pile of shit work. He stood and grabbed a chair for Emrys before inclining his head. “I know. I know. I’m terrible at eating at appropriate times. In my defense, I don’t feel hungry right now.” Though it was that exact moment that his stomach grumbled loudly.

“It seems my stomach disagrees.”

light, bubbling laughter spills from his lips like sweet champagne, filling the room like tinkling, twinkling bells. ❛ not so hungry, are you ? ❜ emrys teases, voice gentle in its mirth as he crosses the room, setting the plate down on the desk between them, careful to avoid most of the paperwork as he peels back the cloth. there’s a moment’s pause before he simply sits in cullen’s preferred chair, perching on the plush arm of what he’s often referred to as the commander’s ‘throne,’ fingers tapping against the soft velvet in syncopated rhythm, legs swinging ( once, thrice ).

he tuts, knowing the commander’s excuses all too well, ❛ you know, it is alright to take a moment to feed yourself every so often ? ❜

#*:･ﾟ✧ thread.#*:･ﾟ✧ cullen.#*:･ﾟ✧ cullen | 001.#{ sitting in cullen's chair #wow what a power move #djfslg }

fereldenliion‌:

@emryslavellan reacted for a starter

Cullen looked up with a small frown from his paperwork. He hadn’t…exactly slept in a day or so. In his defense, they were preparing for more and more missions. Marching and spreading the Inquisition’s influence. So when Emrys entered his office, he sighed.

“Before you ask, no. I haven’t eaten yet and I do plan on eating… Eventually.”

there’s a soft sigh, checked by the warmth of a tender smile, the heat of a plate still burning through the cloth he’d wrapped it in. it had become a sort of pattern they’d fallen into, ever since they’d come into each other’s company. growing up dalish in the northern most free marches where there wasn’t always enough food to go around, making sure others had their fill had simply become second nature to the young mage. especially as the keeper-in-training, he couldn’t help acting as a caretaker.

so he hums, taking that extra stride inside to embrace the warmth of the hearth of cullen’s office, letting the weight of the door swing shut behind him. ❛ as well as i believe you, commander, past experience dictates i practically have to force feed you myself. ❜

#*:･ﾟ✧ thread.#*:･ﾟ✧ cullen.#*:･ﾟ✧ cullen | 001.#{ methinks i'mma use colin gifs for threads without in game gifs #so here is ya boi #yes yes }

okay so in the same vein as everyone else, here’s a lil intro post for me & my son. so hello all, my name is tommy ! i’m just like a grumpy 60 yo man on the inside and a soft pop punk boy on the outside. but like vintage pop punk bc i’m fckn old like what is this new shit what do you mean it’s not 2009

#skyholdintro #*:･ﾟ✧ ooc.#{ local nerd at ur service }

brigmorewitches-deactivated2019

Those who oppose thee Shall know the wrath of heaven.

#*:･ﾟ✧ location | haven.#*:･ﾟ✧ the breach.#*:･ﾟ✧ aesthetic.

emrys lavellan | *:･ﾟ✧ tag dump.

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